Page 103
Story: Minor Works of Meda
So that was a pleasant hour. And the worst of it, of course, was that I hadn’t learned anything useful.
Perhaps Eudoria had simply been skimming along the Ward, keeping an eye on things, and stopped to see the faeries who’d approached it. They might not be related to Kalcedon at all. It could have been a spat between friends or lovers, for all I knew.
And the Ward had fallen again, though now it was back, a pale flicker of violet iridescence between me and the blue sky above.
I had no way to know for certain, but I felt sure Kalcedon was on the other side now. Why else capture him, unless somebody wanted him? And that meant I was in trouble, because I’d have to bring the Ward down to reach him.
I adjusted the sails to catch the wind, my jaw determined.
Chapter 47
“Temple service begins at sunup,” the veiled guard at the compound gates said. There was only one this time. It was dark, well past sunset, the lanterns along the gate all glowing orange.
“I’m not here for service. I’m here to see someone.”
“I can’t let you in. It’s the rules.”
“I cannot wait for sunup.” I took a step forward, until I was barely inches from his shiny brass breastplate. To his credit, the guard didn’t flinch or even tighten his grip on his spear. He stayed perfectly still, his face covered in the white shroud of the Nameless. “I am a witch, and I was invited to be here, and if you don’t let me through this horned gate, unseen be my witness, I will turn you inside out—”
“Miss, please don’t threaten me,” the guard said. I couldn’t tell if he was calm or just stately and well-trained. His voice didn’t waver, and he still hadn’t moved. “I can’t break the procedures. Temple service begins at sunup. You can enter then.”
I stayed standing just where I was for a moment longer, glaring up at him with my nostrils flaring, but apparently that still didn’t impress him. I was almost tempted to roam through the city, find somebody with unguarded power, and get inside by force. But there wasn’t time for that. And hurting some innocent Nameless wasn’t going to make anything about the situation better.
“Call someone else,” I demanded. “One of the Order. They will let me in. The chancellor asked for me.”
“Have you got a written invitation, or a seal? No?” the guard asked. “If I have to call the night guards, they will arrest you. Please, miss, be on your way.”
“Hello?” I shouted, yelling past him. “It’s Meda, Meda from Nis. I need to come in.”
The Nameless whistled, a splitting sound. To my right I saw two guards round the iron fence at a run.
“Nameless one,” a soft voice said on the other side of the iron gate. “She is known. Let her in.”
The Nameless turned over his shoulder; the witch on the other side nodded. I didn’t say a word as the gate opened and I walked inside.
The witch was small; young and brimming with power, with bright eyes that studied me carefully.
“We saw what happened in Koraica, in the bowl. Did you really write the spell?”
“I need to see Oraik.”
“Master Geov saw you at the gate. I’m to bring you to the great hall.”
“Now,” I clarified. “I need to see him now.” I could not, at that moment, have cared less about the dream I was ignoring. Not with Kalcedon gone, and no certainty how long I had to bring him back. Each second might carry him further from me.
“They won’t be pleased.”
“Do I look like I care?”
Most people would have bristled; she only gave me a small smile and a shrug. Turning, the witch led the way down the compound’s winding street. The burning stink of iron lay heavy in the air, growing as we approached a building with iron lattice across the windows, each glowing gap between the metal shaped like a star.
It was the perfect place to keep someone hunted by fae, but instead of going to the door she led me across the street to another building, stone that did not feel lined with iron.
“Why isn’t Oraik in one of the iron chambers?” I asked as we approached the door, our destination clear.
“He wished to move, once it wasn’t necessary.”
A bad feeling took hold of my stomach. I regarded the back of her head suspiciously.
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