Chapter Twenty-One

Tantos III, Capital City

Energy bolts impacted the center of the square, throwing up debris and lighting the mists with a lurid red glow. Screams echoed through the air as the crowds scattered, protestors fleeing as an increased barrage poured down from the guild flitters. They didn't seem to be aiming directly to kill, or the carnage would no doubt have been far worse. Instead, the guild pilots were trying to inspire chaos and terror. And it was working.

"We have to go, now," Shiran hissed, turning to run and pulling both sisters with him; Arta tried to break free of his grasp, fear warring with outrage in her heart.

"No," she said. "We have to do something. We have to help these people, I don't know, try to make the guilds stand down!"

"The pilots have no idea who you are," Shiran said, "and even if they did, you have no authority to order them to do anything. All you'd accomplish is getting yourself arrested, or worse. Come on!"

Arta scowled angrily, but before she could retort someone slammed into them, throwing all three to the ground. She rolled to her side and looked up to see the crowd pushing and shoving above her as people tried to get away – one large man was stumbling straight towards her, head down and with no indication he saw there was someone in his path. Arta screamed and threw her hands up to shield herself; there was a sudden flash of blue light and people were shoved to the side, forming an open bubble around her. Thanking the Lord for her abilities under her breath, Arta scrambled to her feet and looked around wildly for some sign of Karani or Shiran, but she couldn't see them.

Instead, all she saw was people now trying to flee in the opposite direction and colliding with those running from the blasts, creating a chaotic mass in which no individuals could be distinguished. What were they… suddenly, Arta realized the truth. At least some people had seen what she'd done, and now were trying to get away from the Adept in their midst as much as from the guild. In the midst of a chaotic, screaming mass of humanity, she suddenly found herself feeling very cold and very alone.

Someone smashed into her side and knocked her hood back from her face; Arta twisted away from their grasp and started to run towards one of the side streets in what she hoped was the way back to the palace, trying to lose herself in the crowd. Taking a deep breath, she focused her will and called energy around her in a faint shimmer, desperately hoping it would be enough to protect her from being accidentally shot or trampled as she looked around again for Shiran or her sister. Wherever they'd been swept off to, Arta couldn't see them – in the distance, she heard a voice that might be Karani's, shouting curses she certainly hadn't learned from their father, but she couldn't tell where it was coming from.

Still, she tried to head towards it, shoving her way through the crowd, but she kept getting buffeted aside and swept off course; her Adept powers might protect her from potential injuries, but they did nothing to lessen the press of countless terrified people. Slowly, though, she managed to weave her way through the mass and stumble out into an empty alleyway. Collapsing to her knees, Arta panted heavily, trying desperately to regain her composure. There was still no sign of Karani or Shiran.

After what felt like several long minutes she stumbled back to her feet and began to make her way slowly down the alley, one hand trailing along the wall. Vague notions of circling back towards the palace and hoping that her companions had made it back safe as well hung around the edges of her mind, but she found herself too exhausted for much conscious thought. She simply stumbled on, alone, but as she did so a feeling that she was heading in the right direction was growing in her thoughts. It was almost as if something was calling her.

Arta shook her head to clear it, but the feeling was still there. Shrugging, she straightened herself up – maybe it was her Adept gifts, leading her in the right direction, or even Shiran trying to call out to her, but either way, following that feeling seemed like the right thing to do, even though she couldn't put her finger on why. After a few more minutes of walking she stumbled out of the alley and found herself on an unfamiliar street still shrouded by all-too-familiar fog; she didn't see any other pedestrians nearby to ask directions from. The street was lined with what looked like shops and restaurants, though most of them were closed; this must be part of the city's commercial district, and was probably quite lively during the day, if not at however-late-this-actually-was.

Turning in the direction where the guiding feeling seemed to be strongest, Arta made her way down the street for several blocks until she at last arrived at one restaurant that still had lights on inside. It looked moderately nice, so far as Arta's limited experience could tell, and though it didn't seem like the sort of place Shiran would go to lay low, something told her that she should go inside. The door slid open as she approached, the filtration systems that kept the fog out of the buildings buzzing as she passed through it, and then she was inside the restaurant's lobby, it's warm golden light comforting after the terror at the square.

Arta sighed and lowered her hood before looking around. The lights were on, but there didn't seem to be anyone here – she didn't see any other patrons, or even any staff. Slowly, her gaze slid past tastefully low-key decorations, tables, and booths – and then stopped at one booth that was located in a corner near the back. She wasn't alone after all.

A woman in black was sitting in the booth, a glass of clear liquid beside her as she perused what looked like a menu. She seemed to sense that she was being watched, because she put the menu down and looked up at Arta with eyes that glittered beneath her hood. Arta's breath caught; she'd seen this woman before, in a dream…

No, not a dream after all. Arta's knees went weak as the realization hit her – that strange meeting, the intruder in her room the night after the assassination attempt… that had been real. The woman had made her forget, somehow.

And that meant she must be an Adept, too, if she could do something like that.

The woman placed her menu carefully on the table and folded her hands atop it. "Gawking is rude, you know," she said casually. "Fortunately for you, I'm not someone terribly concerned with social niceties. Sit with me, Artakane. Have a drink, if you like – I won't tell if you don't. It's time we got to know each other a little better."

"What did you call me?" Arta asked warily; far from her only question, but simply the first it occurred to her to ask.

"I called you Artakane," the woman said, smiling. "That is, after all, your name. A variation on a very old name from a dead language on Lost Terra, I believe; it means something like 'She Who Desires Righteousness.' Dramatic, isn't it?" The woman chuckled. "Come, have a seat. I don't bite – at least, not normally."

Against her better judgment, Arta found herself doing as she was asked; perhaps it was simply her curiosity getting the better of her. She seated herself across from the woman and regarded her intently. "Well," she said, "if you know so much about me, and I don't know anything about you, that doesn't really seem fair. Care to share your name?"

The woman shrugged. "Midaia," she said; suddenly Arta was reminded of the strange message she’d received, the one signed ‘M’, and yet another piece slid into place. She waited for the woman to give a surname, but she never did. Still, she found herself a bit underwhelmed – the name was a common one among women around ten to fifteen years Arta's senior, having apparently been something of a fad for people to name their own daughters after Queen Aestera's. Taking that into account, it was entirely possible that the woman had given a fake name; it seemed, Arta thought, like the kind of thing she might do.

"And how do you so much about me, Midaia?" she finally asked after a long pause.

Midaia laughed softly and pulled her hood back; her stark pallor contrasted sharply with Arta's own skin tone, but otherwise the resemblance she bore to the face Arta saw staring back at her out of the mirror every morning was unmistakable. "Can't you guess?" the older woman asked. "We are blood, after all."

Arta felt her heartbeat quicken and struggled to keep her shock from showing on her face. "Are," she finally managed to say, "are you my mother?"

Midaia made a face. "Ouch," she said. "I don't look that old, do I? I'm your sister, Artakane. Well, half-sister, technically. We had the same mother but different fathers. And I've been watching you for a while now."

"That was you who hired those assassins then, wasn't it?" Arta breathed. "I thought you were a dream…"

Midaia shrugged. "True enough," she said, "but like I told you then, I never had any intention of allowing them to harm you. I just wanted to see what you would do under pressure."

A cold feeling crept up Arta's spine. "And what about tonight?" she asked. "The protests, the guild, the crowds – was that another way of trying to see me under pressure too?"

"Much as I may pretend otherwise, I'm not actually all-powerful or all-knowing," Midaia said, a faintly disgusted look on her face. "I had nothing to do with the farce earlier, nor would I have. Something you must realize is that not everything terrible is about you, and neither does it require a hidden agenda. What happened tonight was a conflux of greed and incompetence; Hiram's power depends on the guilds, so he lets them do what they want to wring a profit from the common people, and when the common people don't like it, the guilds get to crack down as they see fit. Unfortunately for everyone involved, all this will accomplish in the long run is making the people even angrier. Hiram and the guildsmen may be getting what they want for now, but they're sitting on a bomb and it will blow up in their faces sooner or later." She shrugged again. "I've seen it before, all around this kingdom. The dukes do what they want, forget who they depend on, and in the end, it explodes in their faces. It's a petty, shortsighted game, and one I have no interest in playing. 'Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.'"

The last sentence was a quote from some ancient Terran text; Arta had heard it before but couldn't place it. "If that's what you believe," she finally said, "then what do you want? You don't strike me as someone who doesn't care enough anything."

"They say that knowledge is power," Midaia said after a pause. "I agree with that sentiment, though I think I take it farther than most people would be comfortable with. That's the real reason the holy sisters kicked me out of their order – publicly they put out that I'd broken my vow of chastity. Hardly. As if such a mundane temptation had any appeal for me. No, the real reason was that I'd delved too deeply into esoteric things that the sisters didn't want me to learn – there are things that men, and women, aren't meant to know, they said. I don't believe that. I'm an Adept, as you must have realized, just like you. I know you've started to explore your abilities – I've gone farther. Much farther. Being an Adept isn't just about glowing and influencing people's thoughts, Artakane. It's a way of experiencing the universe that few other people can understand or appreciate. I know you don't understand me now. In time, you will. But let's just say that my gift led me down paths that the sisters didn't approve of, and I'm still walking them.

"But I'm also interested in you. I was barely a teenager when we were orphaned, and already living in a convent – sending you to live with me wasn't an option, and what would I have done with an infant, anyway? I don't know how you ended up living with Baron Varas; you'll have to ask somebody else for that part of the story. You do seem to be happy, from what I've seen, so I can't fault the choice of guardians. But whatever else I am or have become, family is important to me. I want to help you, however I can. And that's why I called you here tonight. There are things I have to tell you. Things that are going to be happening in this Kingdom very soon…"

"Are you talking about the tournament?" Arta asked, part of her still trying to process everything she'd just heard. "I already know. Duke Hiram announced it tonight at the party."

"Did he?" Midaia asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well, you know part of it, then. But do you know whose idea this tournament was? How much do you know about Duke Naudar ast Sakran?"

Arta shrugged. "Not a whole lot," she said. "I know he's supposed to be the most powerful duke after the regent, and I could tell you about his duchy, but I've never met him or anything."

"Naudar is powerful," Midaia said. "He's also ambitious, and unlike Hiram or Respen he looks to the future, not just the present. He wants to build a dynasty, and he was the one who pushed the idea for this tournament in the council. That means he intends to win. He would be king."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Arta asked. "Isn't that the point of all this, to pick a new monarch? Shouldn't we all be happy if someone finally gets the throne and can hold things together?"

"Naudar would make a better king than some," Midaia allowed. "But like I said, he's ambitious, and he looks to the future. He won't look kindly on anyone who stands in his way, or who he perceives as a threat." Her eyes bored into Arta's, and her words were heavy with implication.

Arta shook her head. "Me? But I'm not a threat to him. I'm nobody."

"No, you're not," Midaia said. "Do you think your new tutor teaches every noble heir whose father or mother gives him a call? Shiran is old, much older than he pretends, and he has been a counselor to heads of state in his time. He came to you because he thinks you're going to be important. Ask him, if you don't believe me. But you've already been singled out, even if you haven't realized it yet."

Arta opened her mouth to question Midaia further but was interrupted by the sound of something buzzing loudly. Pulling up her sleeve, she saw her wrist-comm was flashing brightly. She glanced at Midaia, who nodded, then held it up and answered it.

"Arta?" the Baron's voice came over it. "Are you all right? Where are you?"

"I'm fine," Arta said. "I'm in a restaurant not far from the palace, where I ended up after the protest fell apart. I'm not hurt. Is Karani all right?"

"She's worried sick about you, but otherwise fine," the Baron said, relief evident in his voice. "I'll follow your signal and come get you. Stay where you are until I get there. I'm so glad you're safe." The comm clicked and went silent.

"Well," Midaia said, "it seems like you're going to be in good hands. I'd rather not answer the Baron's questions, so I'll take my leave. I'll see you again soon… little sister."

When Arta looked over at her place across the booth, she saw that Midaia was gone.

/

When Karani saw that Arta was safe, she rushed over to her and wrapped her in a tight hug. "Lord, I was worried about you!" she said. "Are you all right? After we got separated in the crowd, even Shiran couldn't find you. What happened?"

Arta gave a quick rundown of her escape, leaving out any mention of Midaia and making it seem like she'd just happened to stumble into an open restaurant and laid low there until she had managed to calm down. Karani seemed to buy it, but the Baron looked thoughtful. "You were very fortunate, Arta," he finally said. "All of you were. I shudder to think what might have happened. But I'm so glad you're safe." Karani stepped back and allowed him to wrap Arta in a tight embrace as well.

"There you are, Katanes!" a voice boomed from behind them in the palace's entrance hall; Arta, Karani and the Baron all turned to see Duke Hiram hurrying towards them, his round face flushed with outrage. "I heard what happened! What were your girls thinking, heading out into the city at night? Don't they know it's dangerous? The way I heard it, they almost got trampled by a mob!"

"The way I heard it," the Baron said; his tone was mild, but Arta knew him well enough to hear the barely leashed anger underneath it, "the crowd was peaceful until your friends in guild security thought it was a good idea to make it disperse by firing energy blasts into it."

Hiram waved his hand. "Well, you've got to keep the peace somehow," he said vaguely. "Not how I would have done it, but guild security has authority over keeping the peace on Tantos, and can choose their methods at their own discretion…"

"And when those methods involve shooting at unarmed civilians?" the Baron snapped. "My daughters and their tutor escaped unharmed tonight; not everyone was so lucky. People died tonight, Hiram. Your people. Do you want me to pull up the causality list for you? I can. Have you forgotten that your purpose is to protect the people of this duchy? Or does that only apply to the guilds and not to anyone else?"

Hiram seemed to swell with anger. "How dare you lecture me, Katanes?" he demanded. "You're only a baron – I'm your duke and sworn liege! I can strip you of your title and put someone else in your place if I want, and you will not talk to me in that tone!"

"Threatening me? Very mature of you, Hiram," the Baron said. "Especially since you didn't answer my question. Is it because you know I'm right? Go ahead, strip me of my rank, throw me in prison if you want to. And then everyone will know that the guilds are the real power in Tantos Duchy and that criticizing them is a crime – if they didn't realize already after their little display tonight."

Hiram's mouth worked soundlessly for several moments, and then he threw up his hands in defeat. "Bah," he said. "I suppose that I can make allowances for a father worried about his children. I won't punish you for this – today. But don't you ever take that tone with me again, Katanes. I won't be so understanding next time."

"I'll be returning home in the morning," the Baron said. "Hopefully that will give you some time to calm down and think about what I've said. Good-bye, your grace. I'll see you in three months, for the tournament."

Hiram scowled and shook his head. "Have it your way," he muttered. "See you at the tournament." He turned and stalked off across the entrance hall, muttering angrily to himself.

When he was gone, Arta and Karani both turned to look at their father in awe. "You talked back to a duke," Karani said, disbelieving. "And you got away with it!"

"He knew I was right," the Baron said. "And he may be in deep with the guilds, but he's afraid of looking weak – and he would look weak, if he punished me for no other reason than because he couldn't take criticism." He turned to his daughters then and grabbed both of them into a hug, one under each arm. "And the two of you are worth more to me than my title or all the riches of Tantos III," he whispered. "Talked back to a duke? I'd talk back to the Emperor himself if I thought it would keep you safe."

Karani looked embarrassed, but Arta felt a sudden warmth rise in her heart. It doesn't matter who my birth parents were, or what Midaia is to me, she thought. This is my family. This is where I belong.

The Baron let his daughters go and stepped back. "Now then," he said. "Let's get the both of you back upstairs and back to bed. Try to get some sleep, if you can. We're heading back to Katanes first thing in the morning. I don't know about you, but I for one am going to be glad to be rid of this place."