Keeper (First Ordinance #2)(69)

I do not know about that, and what you say may be true, Daragar replied. Still, one who is wise may convince you, whereas I cannot.

"Queen Lissa may have found a place for Siriaa's refugees," Kaldill's voice broke into our mental conversation. Somehow, he knew we were talking, and likely guessed at the main subject of our debate. "I've already informed Jurris," Kaldill added.

I wanted to ask if Jurris had made a decision so badly the words trembled on my lips. Holding my question back, I asked another, instead. "Where?" It was simple. Direct.

"There is a world called Morningsun," Kaldill replied. "A beautiful world, actually, deserted long ago by a race who could transport themselves from one place to another. So strong was their wanderlust, they never returned. They found it far easier to prey upon the efforts of other worlds, rather than growing, gathering, making or herding."

"They found no joy in such?" Dena asked. "That sounds strange to me."

"They were a strange people and nearly all of them perished, due to their own foolishness. Only a few survive, now, and they live elsewhere while they attempt to rebuild the race."

"Do they still wander from place to place?" I asked.

"The ability was taken away from most of them," Kaldill shrugged. "By Queen Lissa, who has some of that race in her bloodline."

"I see there's a story in that," I said. "Perhaps you'll tell me, someday."

"I'll let Lissa tell it—she knows it firsthand."

"All right." I set my plate aside and hugged myself—I had no stories to tell. No known bloodline, either. I belonged nowhere. It troubled me.

"Ordin says you may come back to your bedroom tomorrow," Justis said. I watched his hands as he ate—they were strong hands with long, well-shaped fingers. He'd gotten those from his father; Jurris' hands were smaller, the fingers shorter. Did I have a parent who gave me my hands? My hair or my skin? Who'd given me wings?

"Quin, perhaps a visit to the Library?" Kaldill suggested. "I think a glass of wine will not cause undue harm."

"Where is the metal box?" I asked. I struggled to keep the quaver from my voice.

"Gurnil has it in his study," Kaldill answered, although I could see he didn't want to do so.

"Perhaps Berel should do the interview," I said. "He has a true connection to this world."

"What?" Dena sounded shocked.

"Surely you know by now that I have no connections to Siriaa. My DNA—that thing that determines kinship—is like nothing anybody on Siriaa has. Not even those from Fyris or the Avii."

"Quin, I see that this troubles you greatly," Kaldill set his plate aside and stood. "Perhaps we should table this discussion for another time, when you feel better. I know this is rather forward, but one of us should hold you now."

"I will take her," Daragar said immediately. His chair disappeared when he rose. He then lifted me easily off the bed and I was transported elsewhere.

*

"Where are we?" I asked. Daragar continued to carry me through an immense, brightly lit room, lined with shelves and displays of objects, both strange and familiar.

"The Larentii Archives," Daragar smiled and bent his head to kiss me. He tasted of sunlight and warm days. I huddled against him as he carried me past the first room and into another—and then another.

"Welcome." Nefrigar greeted us with a smile.

I burst into tears.

*

Avii Castle

"I was forced to place a healing sleep—the distraction failed to work," Daragar settled Quin on her bed in Justis' suite. He felt it would be better for her to wake there than in the healing suite.

"Nefrigar wishes to see the metal box," Daragar continued.

"Will he come here?" Kaldill asked, brushing hair away from Quin's face. She slept peacefully in the healing sleep Daragar had placed, oblivious to the conversation around her.

"He will. Meet us in the Library in a few moments."

"Good. I believe Berel is already there."

*

"This is a stasis box," Nefrigar examined the metal container carefully. "It was designed around Quin's small body at the time—that much is evident."

"Have you seen such before?" Kaldill asked.

"I have one in the Archives, although it is not as sophisticated as this one."

"How long do you suppose she was in that thing?"

"Difficult to say," Nefrigar replied. "There are no markings anywhere." He'd even removed the padding inside to check the bottom of the container. "The metal is standard titanium, but without further study, it would be impossible to say where it was manufactured."

"It's obvious Marid knew nothing about it," Kaldill pointed out. "He wouldn't have been able to produce such a spell anyway. I feel it took more power than he ever possessed to do this."

"Yes—placing living things in stasis requires a great deal of power and a finesse the Belancours do not have—even the best among them," Nefrigar shook his head. "This is a puzzle I would very much like to solve."

"It's destroying Quin," Berel said.

"You see a great deal," Nefrigar agreed. "It troubles her. She has no past. Nothing to grasp as her heritage. It is causing emotional pain."