A flame in silk, with a tempered grace,
She walks as though she own the place~
A spark that bites, a gilded glare,
Yet does that warmth betray a softness there~
Oh, dance the edge of ember’s glow,
Where pride and quiet mercies flow~
A careless smile, a guarded plea—
Don’t burn the world…just burn me~
Glittering motes drifted through the room like wayward stars, lazy and lilac, cradling the space in a haze of dim and drowsy warmth. Shadows swayed across the walls like slow dancers, keeping time with the song as it wound its way through the air and faded into the stone rafters.
“Is that music I hear?” a voice called from the doorway.
Rosa’s fingers paused on the keys of her klert as the last note lingered. She let it hang there a moment, then nudged it along with one last, unhurried chord before letting the song slip away.
The motes went with it.
The light crystals mounted along the walls guttered and dimmed, blinking out one by one like embers losing their nerve, until the room fell into complete darkness.
A breath passed. Then the lights hesitantly rekindled, restoring the room to its proper brightness.
“Music?” Rosa said, glancing towards the doorway and the woman stepping through it. “I didn’t hear anything. Must’ve been the wind.”
Yamina smiled at her. “I’m sure.”
Rosa watched as the wizard crossed the room, pausing to consider the crates Rosa had arranged opposite her. Each held strange, glyph-scored metal frames as long as a forearm and hinged at odd intervals. They were the kind of things that folded in on themselves in ways that made you feel like you’d miscounted an angle or three while looking.
Still, their tangled silhouettes cast pretty interesting shadows.
“Did my alignment cages make for a captive audience?” Yamina asked.
Rosa shrugged lightly, letting her klert rest against the crate under her as she braced her hands on its edge and leaned back. “I’ve had more captivated.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Though I doubt any of your usual venues cost half as much.”
Yamina stepped forward and lifted one of the frames, pressing two fingers to a sigil near its centre joint. The glyph warmed to life, and the thing began to unfold, links swinging out and locking into place, each piece finding the next, until what had been a tangle of randomly hinged metal snapped into something a more well-read person might have called an octahedron, small enough to sit neatly in Yamina’s palm.
Rosa just thought it looked like a hollow, many-angled cage.
“I think you accidentally broke the world,” she said. “That thing just got smaller from growing bigger.”
“It did, didn’t it?” Yamina replied. “Intriguing, don’t you think?”
She reached into her robe and drew out a crystal the colour of old smoke, faintly pulsing like it was mulling over what it was doing here, and brought it towards the cage. The cage opened to receive it, then closed with a soft click.
“It’s a trick of geometric correction.” Yamina set it back among the others. “They’re stabilising housings for arcane materials that have a tendency to be dimensionally unruly. These are of my own design. You’ve no doubt seen several of them around already.”
“Huh.” Rosa drummed her fingers on the crate’s edge. “Neat.”
“Do you think so?”
“Not really. But it doesn’t hurt to be polite.”
A quiet laugh left the wizard. She turned to face Rosa, nudging her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“By the by,” Rosa said, meeting her eyes. “Any updates?”
“Afraid not. Give her time. I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”
“Should you really be the one saying that?”
“I think the Baroness will forgive me.”
“Mm, she can be nice like that.” Rosa nodded slowly. “Terribly soft-hearted, our Baroness. It’s her most defining affliction. That’s why she keeps people like me close. Someone’s got to nurse a grudge on her behalf.” She fixed Yamina with a look of profound professional thuggishness. “Just know I’ll be keeping an eye on you, yeah? Don’t give me a reason to get violent.”
Yamina smiled, pushing a ‘bindcage’ aside as she settled down on a crate. “You don’t have to put on a show of being mad if you want to threaten me. I’m perfectly open to being threatened directly.”
Rosa’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Who said I’m putting on a show?”
Yamina raised a brow. “You aren’t?”
“Nope. Who told you that?”
“Hmm.” Yamina glanced to the side. “Perhaps it was the wind.”
Rosa stared at her. “Oi.”
The wizard chuckled. “Apologies. But I am quite sincere when I say it shouldn’t be too long. The Baroness doesn’t appear to be quite as embroiled in the phenomenon as I feared she might be.”
“Hmph. If you say so.”
Who was Rosa to argue?
Was she worried? Sure. They’d all been there when Scarlett had stopped responding in the middle of Yamina’s fancy ritual. It was hard not to tense when the woman suddenly went still and quiet, like someone had snuffed something out behind her eyes.
But Scarlett had faith in Yamina, so they ought to as well. And according to the wizard, Scarlett was most likely just picking her way through some tangled mire of memories, taking the proverbial scenic route back out. It wasn’t anything she didn’t already have plenty of experience with.
Scarlett was quirky like that.
Quirky enough to leave them all dallying around the Forgotten Tower for a day and a half while they waited.
“So,” Rosa said, studying the woman in front of her as she brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn, “what brings you to my humble domain?”
“Your domain?” Yamina looked around the plain stone chamber, then at the crates beneath her. “Last I checked, I was using this as my storage room.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Sure, but I’d wager your last check was before today. Since then, it’s come under exciting new management.”
“I can tell.”
“So,” Rosa tried again, “what brings you here? I’m assuming my mellifluously sweet, criminally underappreciated, and sweetly dulcet tones weren’t the only thing that had you buzzing your way through these otherwise anfractuous halls in my general direction?”
Yamina regarded her with a hint of amusement. “I always found it rather peculiar how you seem to prefer conveying relatively simple meanings with so many unnecessary words.”
“That’s because I’m just that charitable. Someone appropriately charming and linguistically inclined has to give all these lovely words a chance to see the light of day.” Rosa flashed a quick smile. “I didn’t know much about linguistics, but since I was so charming, the wee lass that I once was thought she’d take it upon herself.”
“Very generous of you.”
“Thank you. Now, would you like me to repeat the same question a third time…? If so, I’ll need half a minute to prepare. Not sure if you noticed, but the phrasing gets longer with each attempt. I believe that’s what you library-bred folk call an exponential relationship.”
“If that is true, I’m almost tempted to let you,” Yamina said, shaking her head lightly. “Perhaps next time. And I didn’t mean to deflect. You are simply an interesting person to speak with, Rosa.”
“If I had a solar for every time someone’s told me that.”
“You would be quite wealthy, I imagine?”
“No, I think I’d have about three solars. Good thing I accepted Scarlett’s gig.”
Yamina considered her for a moment, then let out a quiet breath that might have been a suppressed laugh. “I see. In any case, to return to the matter at hand — I had actually intended to seek you out earlier, but I wanted to finish preparing for the expansion process I promised to help the Baroness with when she returns. It’s hard to resist indulging myself when I have the heart of an ancient dragon in front of me.”
“Oh, you won’t hear me complaining,” Rosa said. “We’ve spent the past week fighting dragons and trudging through mouldy caves. I’ll take anything that involves sitting down and not being at risk of becoming a meal.”
“Then I’m glad that I have provided that. As for why I’m here…” Yamina paused, and a hard-to-read look flickered behind her gold-rimmed glasses as her fingers idly brushed along her sleeve. “To begin with, I would like to thank you.”
“Thank me?” Rosa eyed her. “I can only assume for my little lyrical poem earlier.”
“No. Though what little I heard was pleasant enough,” Yamina said. “I meant how you helped assuage your companions’ concerns yesterday.”
“Ah, that?” Rosa waved a hand lightly. “Don’t mention it.”
“I rather think I should. If you hadn’t stepped in, I might have been placed in an awkward spot with the Baroness once she returned.”
“Huh.” Rosa hummed, tilting her head. “I suppose you would.”
Some of the others hadn’t taken Scarlett going quiet particularly well, Fynn especially. He and Kat had been about a second away from forcing Yamina to finish the ritual then and there, which could have been bad. Rosa had been the one to cool things down.
“Thinking about it,” she mused, “I might actually be softer-hearted than Scarlett? You were just so pitiable.”
“You supported me purely out of pity?” Yamina asked. “And here I thought I had your trust.”
“Hmm? Oh, I guess that played a part as well.”
Yamina smiled, but it was a small thing. To Rosa, it looked a touch too knowing to be entirely sincere.
“I am actually here to ask why, precisely, I had your trust,” the woman said.
Rosa paused, studying that smile for a moment. “Why, you ask?”
“Yes.”
“Why, because Scarlett trusts you. That’s why.”
“And that is the only reason?”
“Well, you’ve helped us and we’ve helped you before. I may have technically been unconscious at the time, but we did work together to unravel the all-encompassing shackles of a primeval deity.” Rosa held up a thumb. “I don’t know about you, but among my lady friends, that’s practically the same as us waking up at the same tavern table after too much cheap wine with our hair all knotted together and the drool still stringing from our chins. I’d go to war and back for you.”
Yamina’s eyes stayed on her. “And if the Baroness were to be hurt because of me?”
“…Are you asking what I’d do?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing. What can dainty little me do?”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.” Rosa smiled brightly. “I’d sic Fynn on you instead.”
That was a lie. She wouldn’t have left it to Fynn.
“I feel like that weakens your earlier expression of trust ever so slightly,” Yamina said, though she didn’t look particularly bothered.
“Just slightly,” Rosa replied.
The woman watched her in silence as a few seconds passed. Then she raised a hand, and a spellbook appeared in it. “Did you know? I actually lied to the Baroness.”
The book flipped open, pages turning on their own.
Rosa’s smile thinned just a touch, but she kept her tone light. “That’s mighty brave of you. I only dare lie to her when she’s in a good mood.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Yamina reached out, stopping the turning pages as she seemed to skim their contents. “In case you were wondering what I lied about, it was not related to yesterday’s ritual. I do know better than to lie in the presence of a Grehaldrael.”
“That’s one better than me. I seem to keep forgetting not to do that.”
“Yes, well, compared to the sort of lies an incarnate must have once told, I imagine mine is fairly innocent.” Yamina traced her finger along the page as she continued. “You see, I once implied to the Baroness that there were two ‘hoops’ that I could handle the preparations for by myself — one of them being the reason for yesterday’s ritual.”
Her finger slowed.
“The truth behind the other hoop, however, is that it’s not something I could fulfil by myself at all, though not for lack of trying. I would explain what it is, but I unfortunately can’t. What I can say is that I never worried it might go unfulfilled, because I assumed it was related to something the Baroness already had in her possession. But yesterday, I began to wonder whether she, in fact, was the one who had it.”
Rosa didn’t let her thoughts show on her face.
Scarlett had told her a great deal about a lot of things. Probably more than she should have, even. It was one of Rosa’s biggest sources of pride—one she suspected wasn’t entirely healthy—that the woman had, at some point, slipped into some ongoing lapse of judgement that had her trusting Rosa and keeping her as close as a confidante.
It was just plain fact that Rosa found Scarlett fascinating. She always had. The same went for Amy. Either or, she loved lounging in the corner of the woman’s office, pestering her with questions about her past, her work, her favourite flavour of ‘ice cream’, or really anything else that came to mind, all the while Scarlett acted as if Rosa were nothing but a nuisance distracting her from far more important matters.
That was all to say that she knew Scarlett. Maybe better than anyone else.
She hoped.
At the very least, she knew Scarlett’s thoughts and reservations regarding Yamina. She knew that, at the moment, Scarlett was trying to define her working relationship with the wizard — to figure out exactly how much she could involve Yamina in the various schemes she always had spinning.
In that sense, it wasn’t Rosa’s place to pitter-patter behind her back and insert herself where she didn’t belong. So it did bother her, just a little, when Yamina looked up and met her eyes like she’d just confirmed something.
Rosa heaved a small sigh.
“Do I quit acting like I don’t know what you’re talking about, then?”
“I would prefer that, if possible,” Yamina said. “You intended for me to seek you out, didn’t you?”
Rosa shrugged, not bothering to confirm that particular point.
She might have acted just a tad too suspicious when she’d ‘covered’ for Yamina yesterday. It had earned her a couple of puzzled questions from Fynn afterward.
Leaning forward, she reached into the folds of Harmony’s Veil—the mantle Scarlett had once given her, pooled on the floor beside her—and pulled out The Kept Hours, the dove-grey, linen-bound book entrusted to her.
Yamina’s eyes went to it immediately, lingering there for a moment before returning to Rosa. “Do you mind if I ask how you came by that? Or are you unable to discuss it?”
“No, unlike you, I don’t have anything in particular breathing down my neck about what I can and can’t say.” Rosa looked down at the book, running her thumb over the silver clasp on its side. “It’s actually Scarlett’s, not mine, so you were right — she’s the one who had your solution. She just handed it off to me since she can’t really read it herself.”
“I see.” A contemplative expression passed over Yamina’s face. “That’s a unique restriction. I assume there is a reason that man placed it on the book.”
The clasp clicked quietly as Rosa opened the book and glanced at the first word on the page.
Sorry.
“The Other wasn’t the one who placed that restriction,” she said.
“He wasn’t? Then who was?”
Rosa looked back up, meeting Yamina’s gaze with a sly smile this time. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I very much would, yes.”
“Good.” Her smile sharpened just a touch. “It’s much more interesting when you’re left hanging in suspense.” She pointed at Yamina’s spellbook. “Anyway, you’re planning to talk about that with Scarlett as soon as she’s back, right?”
The woman dipped her head. “I will.”
“That’s great. As tempting as it might be to sit in on that conversation, though, I don’t intend to play the third wheel this time, so I’ll leave that to you two.” She paused. “I do have a bit of an offer for you before that, though.”
“And what might that be?”
Rosa hummed. “Ever heard about a book club?”
