“Is that Revan?” Saren exclaimed when she saw the carriage approach. “Oh, we were supposed to meet him back where he’d dropped us off, weren’t we? Now he’s had to come all the way here to find us.”

Zara gripped the stem of her wine glass. “Well, with the day we’ve had, who could remember?” she muttered before taking a big gulp. There was now only a quarter left and the taste was so dry it made her gag a bit.

“Um, he doesn’t seem too happy, though I am not sure why that would be,” Saren observed as Revan stepped out of the carriage and began scanning the boisterous crowd. Indeed his brows were so knit together, causing unattractive wrinkles to appear. “I wonder if it has something to do with the fabrics he said he was supposed to get? Were they not to his liking?”

While Saren pondered over useless things, Zara looked for anything else that could ease the restless, nagging emotions wrestling within her. Flashes of the temple, the beach, the sands, the waves, the whale, the stalker, her powers, her blood—it was hammering her head, making her skin hot again, which scared her the most because in her current state, she couldn’t tell whether this was her magic preparing to make another disaster happen, or if she was simply flushed. She wanted to press the cold glass over her face, but that would look odd, so she resorted to drinking more from it instead. It truly was the driest wine ever. She shuddered. Perhaps, she should be looking for some water.

The light breeze blew in the scent of fresh buttery bread being brought out from a tent. Food was her next priority.

Revan still hadn’t spotted them, so Zara pulled Saren into an especially crowded area. “Let’s find an open spot. I’m hungry,” she said. “If we can sit, we can wait to be served.”

Saren frowned. “What about Revan? He’s looking for us. Shouldn’t we wave him over?”

“He’ll find us when he finds us,” Zara replied flatly, yanking Saren down onto the quilt.

The large round floor table situated in front of them was decorated with small flowers and a couple of wax candles in the center. The surface wasn’t entirely clean, but there was not much to do in a place teeming with tipsy people in need of constant serving. Every quilt was considerably sized and shared with multiple members of the party. Zara and Saren were sitting with three very made-up and eccentric-looking friends who gave them a quick glance-over before continuing on with their conversation in an unfamiliar language.

To Zara’s annoyance, Saren snatched her second glass of wine and took a long sip. “I think we are under dressed,” she said plainly.

It was true that everyone here was as well dressed as the locals roaming around the streets, but their style was much more exaggerated. The makeup on the women, and even some of the men, were bolder and artistic. Their clothes were flashy and long, and their headdresses, jewelry, and scarves were huge and very sparkly in the firelight. Some women were wearing heeled shoes that made them tower over even the tallest men.

In this type of crowd, Zara and Saren stood out poorly—in the literal sense. They looked too ordinary, especially Zara, who had been forced to change her soiled dress into what had to be the plainest beige and black combination a city like this had ever seen. The dress she’d had on previously wouldn’t have helped her blend in any more, but at least it had been pretty.

Zara self-consciously rubbed her neck. At least she had a good view of the stage from here. Situated in a small clearing surrounded by bushes, trees, and smaller buildings, this stage was a modest size and gorgeously structured. The exterior arched up to a point, with various designs carved into the tan stone. The interior was lit with two circular chandeliers, revealing more arches, columns, and an embroidered curtain towards the back. Zara wondered about the depth of such a stage, and what more could be beyond the curtain. There were also doorways on each side, which Zara guessed was where the actors would prepare for entrance and exit. The front of the stage was mostly empty save for a few instruments lying about.

Tents supplying food and drinks circled the area. Quilts and floor tables littered the center, surrounded by fiery torches. Right now, everybody was minding their own way mingling with others, but once the show started, the audience would be expected to gather here and sit quietly. Some have even brought their pets with them, as Zara noticed a few people with a bird resting on their shoulder, or panting dog being pulled by its owner.

More people huddled around Zara’s vicinity. The chatter was loud and incessant, so she couldn’t help but overhear the gossip:

“I swore it was going to rain, and I am so happy it didn’t. I don’t understand why it had gotten so cold all of a sudden, but at least my face is saved. The painting took hours at the salon. It would have been all for nothing if silly rain water washed it away!”

“The mist worried was what worried me. It had come from nowhere. We don’t usually get mists around here—”

“You don’t? Well, I’m new to the city so I wouldn’t know—”

“Stranger weather patterns have happened I suppose—”

“Strange indeed! Did you hear about that giant whale that washed up ashore?”

“Washed up ashore? A whale? Really? I think you are joking.”

“No, not at all! The beach was flooded. You should have seen it!”

“I actually saw it myself! It was the Sabre Whale, and a big one at that! I have never in my life seen anything like it. It is unheard of for such a whale to leap out of the sea. I didn’t even think they could get that big either!”

“I saw it as well. It must be an abnormality of some kind—”

“It was amazing. It actually jumped out of the water, but it did not come to the shore. It wouldn’t do that. It did flood the beach a little, but no one minded. There was plenty of catch to go around because of it.”

“Speaking of catch, did you try the fish yet?”

“I need to try it—”

“Tell me more about the whale—”

“It was a miracle. Everyone’s saying it. It’s like a sign of prosperity, a blessing. All that fresh seafood that washed up, it was like an offering! I’m telling you! It’s just a damn shame you missed it, hon.”

Zara’s glass was empty. The talk around her turned into one unanimous buzz. She could feel Saren’s scrutinizing her. They had said they would talk about this later, but she felt that the talk would be coming sooner than planned. Saren was smart, regardless of her mystical abilities. She had no doubt connected the astonishing event at the beach as Zara’s doing.

Saren was also sure to question everything about the dagger, the night she had found it, and how Zara had blatantly lied about it all. She would question just about everything there was to question, especially about the green gem that was supposed to be around her neck.

Saren nudged Zara with her elbow before leaning closer. “So…is Revan the same as you?”

Zara kept her mouth in tight line.

Saren sighed. “I know I said we would discuss it later, but can you blame me for my curiosity? I won’t say anything too revealing right now, but I want to know…what is really your relationship to him?”

Zara sighed. She guessed there was no point in hiding it, but now she wished Revan was here. She was hesitant to reveal that they were not, in fact, related at all. There was a chance that Revan wouldn’t like Zara telling her that. Even if Saren knew of their identities as mages, Revan may prefer that they at least keep up the rest of their act for as long as possible.

But maybe, it was too late for that. Saren would not believe it, as they had already kept enough from her. Damaging a new friendship so soon would not fit in with Revan’s plan, ultimately. Besides, she did not want to damage it. Saren was special. She knew what Zara was, yet did not fear her, judge her, or attempt to turn her in. Instead, this night seemed to solidify their bond even more. That was an even bigger miracle in and of itself.

“We’re friends, are we not?” Saren urged. “You can trust me, Zara.”

Eventually, Zara nodded. She looked Saren in the eye and answered honestly, “Yes. We are the same. He is my instructor. I am his apprentice. Can we leave it at that for now?”

Saren smiled, and it was obvious she was excited. “I’m trying to hide how eager I am to keep asking for more information. I cannot wait until we are all alone. There is so much I want to know! I hope Revan will be okay with—Oh! I almost forgot he’s here, looking for us!” She stood on her knees and surveyed the area. “Where did he go?”

Zara felt a hand suddenly land on her shoulder. Saren flinched when she felt the same.

“I am right here,” Revan said behind them. Calm as he sounded, Zara could hear the displeasure hidden in his tone.

“Oh!” Saren startled, turning around to face him. “What? Huh, that’s strange. I didn’t—I usually know when you’re nearby.”

Revan smiled thinly. “Well. I’m sure you’ve had a busy, busy day. That could tire out even the most cognizant person in the continent. Don’t you agree, Zara?”

His grasp was hard on her shoulder. Zara tilted her head back.

“Can you see if there is any more wine?” she asked nervously. “Maybe the sweeter kind?” Maybe if she pretended nothing was the matter with him, and that there wasn’t a chance of him knowing what they’ve been up to (thanks to the help of his spying mirror), then she could enjoy the rest of the night. After tonight, though, would be a different story.

The man’s brows seemed to fall even lower over his eyes. “See if you can conjure some up yourself.”

Saren knelt back down, looking back and forth between her friends with a wide grin, like this was the show she had been waiting for all along.

“So,” she said, “how was your day?”

“It was fine, thank you for asking,” he answered simply.

“Oh? Everything went well? You received all the fabric you were searching for?”

“Um, yes. I did.”

“Were they of good quality?”

He looked at her quizzically. “They were decent enough.”

She smirked. “I’m sure they were. I would love to see them. If you really have them, that is.”

Revan sighed, addressing Zara once again. “She knows everything, I presume?”

“Not…everything,” Zara responded reluctantly. “Just what we are. But that’s all. We said we would discuss it later.”

“Oh, we will. I’m sure of it,” he muttered.

Zara stole Saren’s half-emptied glass from her side of the table.

“Hey!” Saren protested.

“It was mine first,” Zara argued as she drank from it.

“I’ve noticed you two have switched out your clothes,” Revan said.

Saren nodded, grinning. “Aren’t they divine?”

Zara scowled. Yours is. Mine on the other hand…

Revan took note of the party’s unique fashion sense. “A bit more preparation would have done you two some good.”

“Oh!” Saren groaned in dismay. “How were we supposed to know? Besides, that would have cost us more than everything we have and you know it!”

“But…you look lovely. As always.” He pecked her pink cheek before settling between her and Zara.

Zara frowned. “What about me?”

Revan merely glanced at her. “What about you?”

It was obvious he was not happy. But what exactly was the reason for such displeasure? Was it simply because of her magic? She had done what he had advised and trained her to do so many times and protected herself and Saren from harm’s way. Successfully at that. So what was the problem? Was it because she had revealed her magic in front of Saren? But what could she have done about that? How much had Revan actually seen in his Mirror? Had he seen their full altercation with the brazen man who had wanted to rob them? Because if he was watching, he would know that Zara had been left with no other choice.

Perhaps it was about her lack of control in the situation. This had been the second time today, the first having been at the beach. She had once again let her emotions take over and emitted enough power to cause an abnormal change in the surroundings to the point where others had noticed. She didn’t even know where the man was right now, just that his foot was left behind in the alley, mangled into the ground.

Zara downed the rest of the wine, troubled. Yes, she had finally protected herself. But she had not used her blade as intended. Deep down, Zara had an inkling that these could be some of the reasons for Revan’s attitude towards her. He had always emphasized control, first and foremost. Nobody in their environment should suspect anything too out of the ordinary. But now there was a crowd huddled together at a quilt nearby, still talking about the “miracle Sabre” and its majestic dive.

Revan regarded the new jewelry around Saren’s neck. “Saren, dear, those are some precious stones you have on.”

Saren instinctively touched it. “Thank you. They look real don’t they?”

“They do. But what of the stone I have gifted you?”

“Safely tucked away in my bag. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t match my new dress very well.”

“…I see.”

“Why? Does it upset you that I’m not wearing your gift?” she teased. “How sweet.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh. Yes. You look so much nicer with it on your neck, after all. I hope to see it again there, soon.”

“Is that so?” She put her elbow over the table and rested her chin on her hand, gazing deliberately at him. “That gem must be very special to you then.”

“What makes you say that?”

“We had a man following us today. He wanted to steal it. He mentioned just how special it was before Zara got rid of him.”

Revan kept his expression impassive.

“Please,” Saren said amiably, “you don’t have to say anything right now. I can keep your secrets. I know you have greater knowledge of that green stone than that stupid thief did—”

Revan quickly turned to face Zara. “And just where is this thief now?”

Zara shrugged. A pleasant buzz had settled over her. “I don’t know.”

Revan hissed as Saren forced him to turn back her way. “Revan, Zara, listen to me. That gem…its history—it’s linked to Mogheir, isn’t it? I have a strong feeling about it. I can’t explain but…perhaps it may help me understand my own heritage. Do you know something about that too? You can trust me. I’m…well, I’m not like what you two are. That much is obvious. But I am different. I know it. My family, my village, they knew it too. I don’t know exactly what it is about me that is so different since no one ever told me anything. You two have been amazing befriending me and accepting me so far. So if you know something more, I would appreciate you not keeping me in the dark any longer.”

It was a genuine plea. So much so that Zara felt inclined to just spill everything. But before Revan could formulate a response, a stout and slightly heavy-set older woman had arrived at their table accompanied by a waiter holding a tray of refreshments. It was clear that she had come to see them, as her steely eyes focused only on them. She was impossible to ignore, despite her short height. Dressed in fancy red garb and heavy eye makeup and jewelry, she exuded a commanding presence like no one else around them. Even the crowds had parted significantly for her, and the others at their quilt had ceased their foreign conversation.

The waiter busied himself by setting down the snacks on the table for the foreigners. Unfortunately, he placed nothing in front of Zara and her party of two.

One of the ladies in the group piped up in a thick accent, “Ms. Rubi! I was wondering when I’d see you tonight. The woman of the hour!”

Ms. Rubi held up a palm—heavily designed with henna—in a curt greeting. “Yes. I wasn’t planning on being out just yet, at least not before our show, but something has come to my attention here.”

Despite her dignified look, her accent was subtly informal. Zara had heard it before, and very recently too, she was sure. But she couldn’t register where it had been. Ms. Rubi seemed tense, which was worrying. She was apparently the one in charge of this event, hence everybody’s admiration and respect. Had they done her wrong somehow?

“Can we help you?” Revan asked bluntly.

Zara’s breath hitched in anxious agitation at his tone.

Ms. Rubi gave him an artificial smile, and the outer corner of her black-lined eyes wrinkled. “Perhaps. I was informed there were guests here that passed through the gate without paying for entrance. I am assuming that it is you three.”

“Can you prove that we didn’t pay?”

“Can you show me your tickets?”

Revan bit back his tongue at that.

“I-We apologize!” Saren claimed. “We did not realize there was a fee for entering.”

“It is not a free show, darling,” the older woman said coolly.

Zara was suddenly entranced by the shiny headpiece wrapped around the woman’s jet black hair. The ruby stone was so familiar…but the memory was blurry. Everything was a bit blurry at the moment.

“But we were informed it would be,” Saren said reluctantly.

“By whom?”

“Well—”

“Honey, I don’t know how others choose to run their business when they’ve booked the theater. I know some might not care for such fees. But tonight’s usually my night. And on my nights, you must pay to be here. The entertainment, the drinks, the food—they are not just given to you for free.”

“Oh! Oh okay, then we have misunderstood. We were not informed of the differences in management, much less that it was your night to—”

“And you have severely missed our code of dress. Especially this one.” Ms. Rubi pointed out Zara. “She is the plainest of you three.”

Zara wanted to melt into the quilt. Her body burned as light snickers trickled into her ear. Revan put a cool hand to her shoulder, willing her to stay calm.

He sighed wearily. “Ms. Rubi, we did not mean to disrespect you. I assure you we did not see anyone collecting payment—” It was by luck that Zara and Saren had managed to slip in from a dark corner out of the alley. Revan had no doubt evaded payment at the front purposefully. By his own will, the money collector had likely not even noticed him. “—and we truly apologize. It’s just that the girls here are interested in theater and dance. We are just tourists and it is our first day here. They wanted to learn something of value, to watch the talent and implement their skills in themselves. But if you wish for us to leave, we will.”

Ms. Rubi’s bright eyes danced over Revan mischievously. “Actually, you can stay for as long as you’d like darling. Your face compensates for your lack of style.”

He smiled at her mildly. “I appreciate the compliment, Ms. Rubi.”

“It’s just Rubi to you, my darling.”

By now, the attention around them had dissipated and the party resumed as normal.

Saren was already digging through her bulky bag. “I’m trying to find my coin purse but—”

“Save it,” Rubi demanded promptly. “What is your name, handsome one?”

“Revan. Next to me are Saren and Zara.” He introduced them as he said their names. Zara meekly bowed her head in a lame greeting.

“Revan. Interesting name; interesting voice you have too.”

“I could say the same of you. Where are you from—?”

“Oh, we could save all that talk for later. If there’s time.” She winked, and to Zara, it was more gross than alluring, given this woman’s more advanced age. “I’ll take you as payment for the evening.” She let out a huff, and her expression suddenly contorted to stress. “Mother knows I could use it right now,” she grumbled.

Saren gaped, and unhappily at that. Zara’s fingers itched to hold another drink.

Revan’s brow flew up. “…Oh?”

“It is either this, or I have you and your harem escorted out.”

“Well now that is just—” Saren began to protest, but one warning look from Revan had her simmering down immediately.

He inhaled, resigning himself. When he leaned in, Zara could feel some of his magic at work. “Very well. As long as you can find some way to benefit these girls, I’ll be happy to provide some entertainment of my own. For your eyes only.” He practically forced those words through his lips.

But Rubi didn’t seem to care. “I like the way you speak,” she remarked with a wide grin. “You will be meeting me behind the stage after the show is over. Come now, the three of you. The performers are just about ready, but they still have some time to chat with us. You’ll have much to learn from them.”

At this, Revan plastered what merely looked to be a genuine smile of gratitude. “Thank you. This is a fantastic opportunity, isn’t it girls?”

Rubi laughed. “It better be! I don’t normally do this. No audience member is ever allowed behind the stage, especially so close to show time, but I am willing to make an exception. I’m not as uptight as some would describe me to be.”

His magic always worked so well. Zara nodded amicably, partly excited to be getting a closer look into the stage and mostly relieved that they hadn’t been kicked out. Otherwise, everything would have been for nothing.

Saren smiled stiffly as she stood. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Oh my, a tall one!” Rubi exclaimed, cackling. “Now, where you’ve come from, that I’d like to know!”

Saren did not respond to that quip, but Rubi was leading them off anyway. They passed a servant with a tray of wines, and Zara stealthily grabbed a glass off it. Thankfully, the taste was much to her own liking this time. As she drank, Saren came close to her ear.

“I don’t have a good feeling about her,” she whispered, her eyes trained on Rubi’s smooth brown back—left intentionally exposed by her impressive gown. She clung to Revan’s arm, talking enthusiastically. Next to that tall man, she seemed even shorter somehow.

“Oh? Could it be jealousy?” Zara shot back. “That bat’s reined him in before you’ve even had a taste. I don’t need your silly little ‘instinct’ to see how much you hate it.” She didn’t care how disgusted or upset Saren was with her over this. Because now she knew what it was like being woman left out.

They weaved through the crowd, passing by many who greeted Rubi generously, as though she was going to be the starring actress. Zara wondered what this play was actually about. Would it be good enough to be worth spending so much money and time looking as frivolous as possible?

They crossed to a clear spot on the side of the stage. Stone steps led to a wooden doorway. Zara could hear commotion inside.

Rubi turned to them. The vibrant red jewel on her head glimmered from the torchlight. Like a gorgeous red diamond.

Diamond…

Zara gasped, suddenly recognizing this exact headpiece. She’d admired it a long year ago, on her hasty way toward Pria’s diamond-shaped center. It had been displayed at an accessory shop window, luring her in, altering her path off course…

“Where did you get that?” Zara blurted out.

Rubi scoffed. “Well! The quiet one has finally spoken.”

“Excuse her,” Revan said. “She’s not used to…people.”

He was giving her one of his admonishing glares, but Zara didn’t care.

“Where did you get that?” she asked again.

“Get what?” Rubi said, amused. She noticed Zara’s eyes fixated on her headpiece and chuckled, touching it carefully. “Oh this thing? Gorgeous isn’t it? It makes me feel like royalty. I bet I could sneak my way into the Court and no one would be the wiser.”

“Yess,” Zara slurred. “Where did it come from? It isn’t supposed to be here…is it?”

Revan distastefully snatched Zara’s almost-finished glass out of her hand.

“Thank you darling,” Rubi said. “I was going to say food and drink aren’t allowed through that door. To answer your question honey, I bought this from one of the many caravans passing in from the north.”

Zara’s gut jumped. “The north?”

Rubi nodded, clucking her tongue. “Yes. The poor babes. They were running from all the unrest up there in….Pria was it? Yes, that was it. It’s unheard of, such a place going through this amount of distress. Those people were just a fright to look at.”

She was beginning to understand what Saren had meant by not having a good feeling about this woman. Rubi’s false sympathy was easily replaced with an almost wicked smirk. “I did what I could to help a few willing to be helped. Including buying out some of their belongings, and old inventories and what-not. This marvelous piece was one of them. "

“…Oh,” was all Zara could get out.

“Now, shall we?” Rubi said. “Revan, let’s keep an eye on the quiet one. Make sure she doesn’t fall over herself.” She giggled and led the way up the steps.

Zara followed absently, with Saren supporting her arm and many questions left on her struggling mind. She wanted to ask who, exactly, sold the headpiece. She wanted to know whether this person was a young woman with yellow hair. She wanted to know what became of that caravan, who else had been on it, and where they were heading. She wanted to ask what they’d been through, in the time she had gone and left them. She wanted to know if they—whoever they were—were safe.

But…why? Why do I care? What would be the point in that?

The vast city suddenly seemed as small as Pria. Wherever they were, somehow, Zara felt that they were close.