Seffon raises an eyebrow but does not move other than that. “How was he trying to start the war?”

“He tried to enlist old-Leah into helping him; he wanted to make Jeno a martyr, and frame Valerin as the villain, and he figured her and I being…close, could help. He described the magic he could have used, manipulations and compulsions, pupeteering…” Leah trails off, remembering the escape. “I think that’s what he did to Kain. He was talking to her through a beacon, and she was apparently responding to his orders, and her eyes had a kind of…silvery…”

“I know the signs,” Seffon says. He frowns and rubs the fingers of his hand, the charms at his wrist clicking. “That will be an issue. But you are right; if he was orchestrating this war at someone’s orders – specifically trying to make it look like a legitimate war, not declaring it themselves but egging Volst into declaring it – then yes, there is a case to argue that this is a usurpation.”

Leah nods, a growing discomfort in her stomach as she remembers more from the conversations that followed. “Meredith seemed to think that, if we could make Volst believe it was a usurpation, everything would change? The other nations would force Devad and Cheden back?”

“A usurpation is a heavy accusation,” Seffon says. “Is it not the same in your world?”

Leah reflects a moment. “A nation can stage a coup – a military intervention into another nation’s government – and usually get away with it, even though the public may disapprove, but only if the target of the coup is less powerful, or if they’re attacking their own government. Other than that, we just call them all wars.”

Seffon’s face reflects deep distaste, but he listens. “The nations of the Gulf are not all equally powerful, but even the weakest, Nent, is protected by the unspoken agreement not to usurp. It’s part of what has held Volst back for so long, keeping them from reclaiming the Enterlan – Jun province.”

“But why? What’s the significance?”

“There is a balance of power, for now; each nation is part of a complicated whole, and any dramatic change in one region could topple all the others. If Algi falls into ruin, all production of cloth would cease, no ships would be able to replace their sails, and the Gulf would collapse. If Cheden falls, the gold mines would halt production, all the mints of all the nations would cease to run, and the Gulf would collapse. If Nent falls, their export of quartz and copper would cease, every magic-reliant nation would face shortages of essential magic components, their governments would destabilise, and the Gulf would collapse.” He waves a hand impatiently. “You get the gist. Every nation knows this to be true; any infringement of a nation’s sovereignty is a threat to them all. If one nation ever gets successfully overthrown, all other nations would immediately be facing shortages, and would be at each other’s throats, fighting over land and resources.”

Leah nods, accepting this, but the nagging feeling grows. “Lord Valerid wanted to get the word to Volst as soon as possible, but he didn’t think it would be possible for him to send it without Cheden intercepting it.”

“Quite right too,” Seffon says, standing and brushing his clothes smooth. “I may not be the one Volst wants to hear from, but I will find someone to send the news. Perhaps one of the other Thanes…”

The question burns on Leah’s tongue. “Does this have to do with…”

Seffon turns back to her, drawing his mind back from wherever it was wandering. “With?”

Leah looks at his face; the bags under his eyes have only grown since she first met him, and he looks tired and nervous, occupied with the situation he has thrown his nation into. Her courage fails. “With your having declared yourself for Valerin, going against Devad?”

Seffon’s expression hardens, but only slightly. “I would have phrased the declaration differently, if I’d known they were going to collapse the bridges and hold a grieving mother and noblewoman hostage.”

He leaves, and Sewheil goes back to her book. Leah lies back on the cot, Meredith’s words ringing in her ears.

What exactly was the usurpation of Jun?

*

The red glow persists until the next morning before finally fading, taking with it most of the pain. Seffon comments how in the end it was a lucky accident on Leah’s part, to have taken the sip before ‘her latest fight with the captain,’ as he puts it.

“That kick probably would have cracked your spine, had it not been for the potion repairing you while the damage happened.” He says it so casually, but Leah’s blood runs cold.

“Clearly I have a death-wish,” she says it as a statement, not a joke. “So we need to do one of two things; either train it out of me, or train me to fight well enough that I don’t keep getting nearly killed.”

Seffon leans over and flicks the side of her head. “I think both would be a good idea, how about you?”

Leah snickers and rubs the side of her face. “Fine, that works too.”

“I’m going to have to say goodbye to you eventually when we send you home, but at least I’ll know you’re still alive somewhere. Don’t die on me before then.” He gets up and leaves the hospital before Leah can react to this.

She is discharged just before noon, and she goes down to the mess, grabbing a bowl of stew and flatbread and sitting at a table, eating ravenously, still trying to recover from her accidental fast.

Looking around, she realises Teo is nowhere to be seen. Off on a quest, isn’t that what Seffon said? That she always disappears without telling him where or why? Or is she maybe still recovering from the spell? She said something about “carrying” people…she was pulling five of us along with her; I’m surprised she wasn’t in the hospital too.

One of the other students sits beside her and gives her a small smile; Leah returns it and continues eating. I wonder if the Chedens are supplying food to the keep? They were running so low…and that’s not something we could sneak in with magic, not enough to feed that many people.

The student doesn’t talk, and neither does Leah; without a language in common, it would be pointless.

She looks up and does another search, looking for John, finally seeing him in line for his food. Leah considers flagging him down, then remembers the confusing situation between them. Until I know if he’s got a crush, I really shouldn’t be seeking him out. It feels unfair…should I just tell him? What if he’s just being friendly and he’s uncomfortable that I assumed he must be flirting?

She pushes these issues away and finishes her meal. Carrying her dishes to the cleaning area, she sees many curious faces turned towards her.

I wish I could answer their questions. It’d be nice to have people here I could talk to, just chatting. People who aren’t Lords or doctors, with jobs. I should get a job.

No! She frowns at herself, walking back out to the garden that has the pheasants. I’m not supposed to stay here. I need to get home. If I stay here, I’ll be an idiot and get myself killed. What would I even do here? What valuable skill set do I have? I suppose I could continue learning magic, and figure out ways to use it in cooking. Is being a cook a respected job?

Wait, why do I care whether it’s respected? Am I worried I’ll be embarrassingly common in comparison to my cohorts? Would they care?

Leah buries her face in her hands, sitting on the stone bench, soaking in the warm sunlight. It’s a humid day, and the air smells fresh and green, with flower buds opening all around her. Small bees float around, not quite like honeybees but obviously filling a similar ecological niche.

Could I be a biologist? Make a taxonomy of all the species of this world? I’m sure they’re mostly the same, but I might discover something interesting and new. Well, new to me.

A pair of male pheasants of different breeds start making noise, getting aggressive, making threat displays. A gardener runs over with a rake and forces the smaller one back, lecturing at it in Olues. It ruffles its feathers and flies off. A female pheasant passes by a few feet away, pecking at bugs in the dirt, unbothered.

I haven’t seen a chicken since I got here. The thought arrives suddenly. Pigeon, quail, pheasant, yes. I think someone’s mentioned duck. No chickens, though. Could I go the rest of my life without eating chicken?

She scoffs at herself. First world problems. The food here’s good, and at least they have coffee and chocolate. She remembers the block of chocolate that Teo had given her, stored in her rooms. I should use that. That’d be nice. I won’t think another bad thing about this world until I’ve had a long sit-down and a cup of hot chocolate. How would you pronounce ‘milk?’ Or ‘hot?’

Leah has never gone below-ground in the Hold, but she has seen servants ducking in and out of passages enough to know where the access points are. Following her nose, she finds one that likely leads to the kitchens, and waits to catch the attention of a servant. She stumbles through her pronunciation, but the servants here seem to be accustomed to her attempts to speak Olues by now and listen with patience and amusement. The woman nods and promises to bring her a pitcher to her room – or at least, Leah thinks that’s what is said.

She swings by the library quickly to pick up the language book she and John had been co-creating, then waits in her rooms. A servant brings up a cup and a small pitcher of warm milk, and Leah breaks off a chunk of the chocolate to stir in, watching it melt and dissolve.

In the silence of her room, she flips through the book, looking at pronunciation rules and vowel changes, swirling the cup, waiting for it to cool enough to drink. The smell is familiar and homey, and at the first sip the taste brings back an uninterrupted stream of memories from childhood to adulthood, of winter festivals and new year’s parties and winter birthdays and hockey games and getting snow down the back of your shirt in a snowball fight.

She sets the cup down, staring at the wall. How much of what I’m feeling here is culture shock, and how much is actual shock? Is the quality of life here actually that much lower? There’s slavery here, but there is back home too; it’s just less in-your-face. Is the war that’s going on now so very different from what’s been happening all over in my world for the past few decades? What do I miss the most from home?

Leah pulls out a spare bit of paper and a block of ink, wetting it with the tiny vial of clear alcohol stored with it. She begins writing a list, nursing the hot chocolate as she goes.

Toilet paper

Liquid soap

Wikipedia

My friends & family

Damn, that one really should have been higher on the list. Guilt trip.

Cell phones / instant communication

Motor vehicles

Tylenol

Oranges

Tea

Pasta

Polyester/nylon/etc.

Music

Movies/plays

Dental floss

Tapping the pen a few times, searching for other ideas, she finally draws a line at the bottom of the list. She looks it over a few more times anyway, to be sure she hasn’t forgotten anything obvious. Now, let’s be mature about this. How many of these things can I find, make, or get an alternative for here?

Toilet paper – √

Liquid soap – ?

Wikipedia – X

My friends & family –

Cell phones / instant communication – √

Motor vehicles – X

Tylenol – √

Oranges – ?

Tea – ?

Pasta – √

Polyester/nylon/etc. – X

Music – √

Movies/plays – X/√

Dental floss – ?

She finishes the whole list before coming back to the friends and family entry. It stands out on the list, unfinished, the obvious shoe in the works.

I have to be honest with myself. It won’t work if I’m not honest. I’ve got to be totally honest about this, or I’ll never make my mind up.

Leah stares at the paper for a few more minutes before crumpling it up and throwing it in the corner. It bounces back and ends up in the pile of blankets that Vivitha had used as a bed, the night before they rode out to carry the message to Valerin. The blankets have been laid out flat by the Hold’s servants, ready for Vivitha’s return.

Getting up, Leah picks all the blankets up and folds them, one by one, stacking them on the dresser. She puts the crumpled paper in a drawer, and picks up a clean set of clothing, carrying the bundle over to the wash closet.

The showers here are mundane, compared to the bathing hall of the Valerid estate. Leah assumes that magic does most of the temperature work, rather than natural hot springs, but either way the water comes out warm and steady, from a spout high up in the wall. She washes carefully, being delicate around the new scab on her side, now only a very faint red. The soap is unscented and gentle, and the wash cloths and towels are clean and soft.

Stepping out and drying off, she looks at the scars of her body – the old ones, from other-Leah’s time. The crossbow bolt to the stomach used to be the most impressive scar on her body, or perhaps the one stretching from her neck down across the back of her left shoulder, but the pink oval under her ribs threatens to outdo them both.

She dresses and returns to her room, opens the drawer, un-crumples the paper, rereads it, re-crumples it, and puts it back in the drawer.

Walking with purpose through the halls, she ends up at Seffon’s library, where a single guard stands. The man nods to Leah and lets her pass. She knocks on the door a few times, and waits for the quiet “Entẽ,” before pushing it open and stepping in. Seffon looks up and smiles at her arrival.

“Feeling recovered?” he asks, setting aside the book and gesturing for her to sit in ‘her’ chair.

“So here’s a question for you,” Leah says, sitting down on the edge of the chair and holding her hands together nervously. “And I want you to remember, I’m asking it as someone who knows next to nothing about the culture of this world, or the history, or the politics, or polite manners.”

Seffon raises an eyebrow with a smile. “I’m intrigued; go ahead.”

“What was the usurpation of Jun?”

The smile is gone in an instant. “I beg your pardon?”

“There seems to have been something that people in Volst call ‘the usurpation of Jun.’ Meredith mentioned it. I hadn’t heard of it before, but she seemed to think you would know what it was.”

Seffon sits very stiffly in the chair, his fingers frozen in their tapping. “Did she.”

“She said you’d played a role in it, somehow.”

Seffon stands and paces the room, his back to Leah. “Did she.”

Leah stands and takes a few steps towards him. “Remember what I said? I’m clueless about the politics here, I don’t know what it means, I just wanted to ask in case it was important.”

Seffon’s pacing falters a bit at that last bit, and he half-turns to her with a bitter face. He takes a deep breath, unclasping his hands from behind his back, flexing them at his sides and then letting the breath out. “Yes. You did say that.”

“The past few weeks have been filled with some pretty horrible and confusing things, Seffon; I’m just trying to make sense of them.”

He nods, and slowly walks back to his chair. Leah sits back down and waits.

“My family goes back much longer than three generations,” Seffon begins, hands steepled in front of his mouth, eyes fixed on the carpet. “My ancestors fought in the war over Jun, on the side of Volst. They were petty nobility. Their lands were given over to Devad at the lifting and redrawing of the border, and their titles were stripped and passed to a Devadiss family, newly appointed. Valerin offered my ancestors sanctuary and the right to keep their titles, if they gave up all magic. The family, naturally, refused.

“They maintained some level of authority, just by dint of people being used to answering to them, and the fact that most locals liked Devadiss rule just as little as my family line did. Also, they were magicians; they could bolster their community, and keep it prosperous even as Devadiss control over the territory faltered and grew weak.

“Then, ninety years ago, the Devad-appointed ruler of the area died with no heirs. My great-grandfather decided to reclaim his stolen position; he swore to uphold Devad’s laws, and accepted the Devadiss form of our name, Seff, for all formal purposes. Then, the moment Devad turned their back, he put things back the way they were before. Two hundred years of Devadiss influence erased, in a matter of days – two hundred years of hidden cultural practices rising back to the surface within a year. The school was founded by my grandfather a few decades after that.

“Devad remains largely ignorant about our…particular, ah, legislation. All documents we send in are in line with what they wish, and when they send a tax collector or Jonkheer we are appropriately polite. But it is all lip-service.”

Leah listens patiently, then nods. “How is this an example of usurpation?”

“It’s not,” Seffon says, then takes another deep breath. “But Volst has its own opinions. They consider my family’s actions to be an antagonistic act, firstly because they feel that if anyone was going to change Jun back to Volst law, it should be Volst, after a proper war had been fought; and secondly, they worry that if Devad ever found out about our bending of the rules, they could legitimately accuse Volst of usurping.”

“But Volst didn’t put you back in power; your family did it all on their own, with Devad’s permission.”

“But the laws and traditions we put back in place were Volsti,” Seffon says, shrugging. “With some few exceptions that wouldn’t count for much if they came under scrutiny.”

Leah nods. “So then, your family sort of…did…usurp this piece of land from Devad. Devad just hasn’t realised it yet.”

Seffon’s face is very carefully neutral, but Leah can sense the tension. “Volst’s rule over Jun was always a tenuous thing; such a great distance from the royal capital, and no magic to speed the journey. Devad was hardly any better; they claimed this land as a matter of pride, not because of ideology or culture. My family…” Here he trails off, still staring at the carpet. “We do not recognise that either nation had a legitimate claim to the Enterlan. We acknowledge our blood-ties to Valerin, but Volst shares nothing in common with us.”

“And that’s the distinction? The thing that makes it not a usurpation? You don’t acknowledge that the Enterlan was claimed by someone else first?” Seffon turns a furious gaze on her, but Leah stands firm.

“We did not overthrow any government, because there was no government left to overthrow. We did not invade, we did not conquer; we are no more usurpers than Algi and Bair were when they divided up what was left of Greybryn, after its fall. We were robbed of our heritage, and when the opportunity arose to reclaim it we did – not just for our family, but for everyone here who was tired of Devadiss law. This land had been abandoned by both nations; they only cared about the status of owning it, but they never – ” he cuts himself off, rubbing his hands over his face.

Leah waits, tense, not making a sound.

“So long as Seffonshold remains unimportant on the international scene, Devad will not notice us, and Volst is safe from any accusation. We have been very careful about remaining innocuous; even the magic-users who know of us, and come here to study or teach, assume that we follow Devad’s laws. Only those from the area know the reality.

“Every action Valerin has undertaken against us was first and foremost to punish my family for stepping up, and to make clear that Volst does not support our actions. When I declared Seffonshold for Valerin, I threw us onto the international scene, and now it will inevitably all come to light. I knew that, and I did it anyway.” This seems to be the end of his rant.

Leah reaches out very gingerly and holds his wrist. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this, when I first asked you about the animosity between Seffonshold and Valerin?”

He shakes her hand off with a scoff. “Because it is a horrendous accusation to level against someone, and inaccurate on top of that.”

“I came to you for answers, and you withheld something like this? I needed to know, Seffon, even if it was awkward. I can only make informed decisions about this world if I understand what’s going on!”

“You also came to me as an enemy, and you told me that first night, if you’ll kindly recall, that you would have been capable of tracking me down in this Hold and killing me yourself had you so wanted.”

Leah falls silent. “I didn’t know you were…I was trying to learn about this world. I was lost and very hurt by the people I’d trusted.”

“I know.” Seffon’s tone is much softer now. “I didn’t tell you, because I wanted to make a good impression on you – at first because I wanted to win you to our side, but afterwards because you impressed me as a very personable, considerate individual. I thought if I told you about this you would think less of us, and go back to Valerin with all you had learned. How was I to know you came from a world where usurpation was so common, and went unpunished?”

“Well I mean, if that’s your definition of usurpation, then technically in my country, every election cycle multiple parties compete and try to usurp the other via the popular vote, to win the right to govern for the next five years.”

Seffon laughs, looking both scandalised and intrigued. “How is that a peaceful way of maintaining law and authority?”

“Well, it means that no-one can easily become a dictator, and an unjust leader can be voted out. It has its merits.”

“But it must be such chaos! Why would you ever want to go back to a place like that?”

Leah’s smile falters, and Seffon for once is paying enough attention to notice.

“I didn’t mean – ”

“No I know.”

“We will keep trying – ”

“Yeah. After the war.”

Seffon reaches over a hand, and Leah smirks a bit before taking it and giving it a squeeze.

“Have you contacted the other…Thanes?” Leah struggles to remember the word, waving a hand vaguely.

“I have; the messenger birds have been sent to those without magic, and I’ve sent beacons to those with magic. If I’m trying to ‘lay low’ on an international scene, having someone else send the information to Volst is…”

“Oh of course.” Leah nods. “Will they be willing to go against Devad and deliver the news, though?”

Seffon smirks. “We may be the only thanedom which flagrantly disregards Devadiss rule, but none this far out are overly fond of Devad. There will be no issue.”

“Then what’s the plan for the interim?”

Seffon stands and fetches a slim book from one of the shelves. “Well, Teo has left; apparently the wind-walk taxed her system too heavily, and between that and concern for her family back home she’s taken a respite. Most of the other students I have also sent home, as a precaution, excepting those who are capable of contributing to the Hold’s defence and mature enough to withstand all that that might entail. That means I have time for another student, if you’re still willing?”

Leah beams. “I’d be very happy to pick that up. Where am I up to?”

“‘Up to?’ Pfft, you’re barely a beginner; you still need to learn all the core runes.” He holds out the book, and Leah takes it, flipping through, grinning ruefully.

“Gotta start somewhere.”

“You’ve already shown a proclivity for it; I think you’ll do just fine. Now go! Go study up, I’ve got my own research to do.” Seffon shoos her away, and Leah makes a snarky face before clutching the book close and leaving, returning to her rooms to do – ah, just like the good old days ­– homework.