Robert Newcomb - A March into Darkness

Wigg sat back in his chair and looked thoughtfully at Sister Adrian. “It seems your burdens just increased,” he said. “Not only will you continue to teach your selected acolytes to empower the Black Ships, you must also oversee the continued training of both the girls and the boys. You are about to become an even busier woman.”

Pausing for a moment, Wigg rummaged through a pile of parchments lying before him. He found the one he wanted, and skimmed the page.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “Here she is-Mallory of the House of Esterbrook. She is the oldest among them. She also seems to be the group’s leader. I suspect that her training will finish soon. The others’ passages into sisterhood will take longer. In any event, they are your responsibility, Adrian. With all the consuls turned to the Vagaries, these young girls and their male counterparts represent the Vigors’ future. Train them all well.”

Adrian positively beamed. Having these Fledglings safely ensconced in the Redoubt with the boys meant that the acolyte and consular orders would survive long after she and her contemporaries had perished. She considered it a dream come true.

“Thank you, First Wizard,” she said respectfully. “Tell me-do the girls know that they have been positively identified?”

Wigg shook his head. “No,” he said. “I thought we might bring them here to tell them. Besides, it’s time they saw the Redoubt and met the boys. Since you are First Sister, perhaps you would like to break the news yourself. It seems only fitting, don’t you agree?”

Adrian was so pleased that she didn’t know what to say. As usual, Abbey sat beside Wigg. Touching his hand, she placed her lips close to his ear.

“That was wonderful of you,” she whispered. “Sometimes you can be quite a pushover. A veryold pushover, but a pushover, nonetheless.”

Leaning toward her, Wigg smiled. “Don’t tell these women that!” he kidded back. “I have not lived among such powerful females for more than three centuries! I need to keep all the authority I can!”

Wigg, Shailiha, Abbey, Adrian, Jessamay, and Martha sat around a large meeting table. Caprice perched quietly atop Shailiha’s chair back. After confirming the girls’ identities, Wigg had summoned the women to the Hall of Blood Records. It was late afternoon of the day following the disastrous masquerade ball. But in the windowless Redoubt, time seemed meaningless.

Shailiha looked around at the chamber’s grandeur. This room was the Redoubt’s largest. To her mind, it was also the most impressive.

The floor and ceiling were of black marble, especially imported from the province of Ephyra. Encompassing all four walls were row after row of mahogany pull drawers, each with its own solid-gold handle. Each drawer was labeled with a gold plaque. The sliding compartments held copies of endowed persons’ blood signatures, sometimes referred to as blood-birth records, arranged alphabetically. Many of the fragile documents were more than three centuries old.

The table at which the five of them sat was huge, and constructed of highly polished mahogany. It was but one of many such tables here. Soft lighting was supplied by solid-gold oil lamps. As is often the case in places of learning, an indefinable mustiness hung in the air.

During the preceding night, the Minions had managed to clear the rubble and start the necessary rebuilding. After being freed from Faegan’s damaged rooms, Wigg and Jessamay had taken samples of the girls’ blood. They had then come here, to check the girls’ signatures against their blood-birth records. Sure enough, their identities were verified. Wigg and Jessamay had then used a signature scope to ensure that the signatures leaned rightward and held no Forestallments. Each was as it should be.

Wigg looked across the table at Martha. The compassionate matron smiled back joyously. She could hardly wait to be reunited with her girls. Martha’s hair had been gray for more days than she could remember, and her once-girlish figure was long gone. But her pride in her Fledglings remained steadfast.

Wigg knew that of everyone here, Martha would be the happiest to see the girls. She had practically raised Adrian-and all the rest, for that matter. Her husband Duncan had patiently taught the craft’s secrets to every girl crossing Fledgling House’s threshold. But Duncan had been brutally killed by Nicholas’ agents as Tristan’s son tirelessly constructed the Gates of Dawn. On Martha’s return to the palace, Wigg had asked her to tutor Celeste. Celeste’s unexpected death had devastated the kindly matron nearly as much as it had the First Wizard.

“Where is Faegan?” Shailiha asked. “Is he too weak to attend this meeting?”

“Oh, he’s well enough,” Wigg answered. “His burns are healing nicely. I granted him another strong anti-pain enchantment, so that he could go straight to work. At this moment he is ensconced in a Redoubt laboratory, trying to unravel the secrets of his new Forestallment. I promised him that we would join him after this meeting.”

Wigg turned to Adrian. “What are the girls’ conditions?”

Adrian smiled. “Considering all that they have suffered, they seem well,” she answered. “They are terribly thin, but that will change. The gnome wives spent all last night making new uniforms for them. Like the boys being taught here, they have been assigned personal quarters. Shawna has to keep bringing them so much food that she’s exhausted! At the princess’s suggestion, this morning I gave them a palace tour. They’re overwhelmed.”

Then Adrian’s expression darkened. “I have heard their story,” she added sadly. “It seems that there is an evil in Tammerland with which we must deal.”

Her interest piqued, Shailiha leaned forward. She was clearly tired. Sleeplessness and worry had left dark circles below her eyes.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“With all due respect, I must defer to Mallory, Your Highness,” Adrian answered. “After she told me, she asked if she could inform you herself. It seems that you have made quite an impression on her.”

“Then it’s time we summoned them,” Shailiha said. She looked toward the doors. “Guard!” she called out.

At once the twin doors opened. Two sturdy Minion warriors strode briskly into the room, walked to Shailiha’s side, and came to attention.

“Bring the Fledgling House girls,” she ordered. “Tell them they have nothing to fear.”

The guards snapped their boot heels together. Leaving the room, they shut the doors.

Wigg looked concernedly at Shailiha. As acting regent, she would have to make another difficult decision, and quickly.

“Before the girls arrive we must discuss their fathers,” Wigg said gently.

Shailiha nodded. “We will try to break the news in the kindest possible way. Even so, it will be difficult for them to accept. Many of their fathers were killed by people at this very table. Of those remaining alive, we cannot say how many are serving Serena and the Vagaries. Neither explanation will be a welcome one.”

Wigg looked down at the tabletop for several moments, then back into the princess’s eyes.

“There’s more than that,” he said dryly.

“What do you mean?” Abbey asked.

“I’m talking about the consuls imprisoned here in the Redoubt,” Wigg said. “After each one was captured, Faegan and I examined his blood. As expected, because of Nicholas’ influence each of their signatures leans significantly leftward. Jessamay looked into their eyes, further confirming our findings. Luckily, not one holds Forestallments. We also used the craft to enter their minds, but our efforts produced little. With Wulfgar’s death, they appear leaderless. In any event, they know nothing of Serena’s plans, or of Xanthus’ appearance. I wish they could have told us more, but there it is.” Pausing for a moment, Wigg looked around the table.