World of Shandor + Chapter One

Ellea knew more about her father’s odd talents than he guessed. She knew about his wings, of course, and the old sword he had taken with him, and that he had gone looking not for history, but for one artifact that could not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. Ellea was very good at keeping secrets. She locked them away in her mind where they wouldn’t show through even in her feelings. Ellea prided herself on having a tidy mind. It was like her own half of the room she shared with Mother; spotless and well organized, with neat compartments and boxes. Secrets, puzzles, memories, other people’s memories, other people’s secrets. She stood with the Gardner boys in the drawing room, where Mother was carefully unpacking the somewhat squashed cakes onto a silver tray. Tam glanced out the window from between thick curtains. “They’re still there.”

No one asked who.

“Well, one good thing about the very exclusive Archeological Society is that followers of the church of Pumphrey can’t follow us in there,” Mother muttered, taking a few roses from the urns and strewing their petals across the tray to disguise squashiness.

“And there is a huge library,” Ellea put in.

“Library?” Jon sounded suddenly very happy.

“That’s why we needed to get admittance. That, and not all the articles in their journal are rubbish,” Mother said, stepping back and giving the tray a critical eye. “There was a rather insightful one by the younger Chauncellor that quite surprised me.”

“That looks really nice,” Tam told her, beaming at the tray of cakes.

Ellea carefully extended a hand toward one of the corner cakes, but Mother intercepted her by putting the tray up on a table stand.

The suite doors burst open then, admitting Djaren and Anna, a folding easel, a painting satchel, wet canvas, and the thick smell of turpentine.

“The front was absolutely crawling with Pumphrites, so we had to come in the back way,” Djaren announced. “Hello, all.” He would have waved but he was weighted down with the easel, satchel, and canvas.

“I told you I could carry some of that,” Anna told him, sounding a little cross. She looked up at the Gardner boys and smiled. “Hello, Tam. Hello, Jon.” She smiled up at Uncle Eabrey. “Hello, Professor. How was the journey by train?”

Tam grinned, but couldn’t seem to find anything to say.

“We saw Kara,” Jon said.

“Really? She’s here?” Djaren nearly dropped the wet canvas, but Tam caught it, grinning all over again at Anna’s look of gratitude. Ellea sighed. Whoever thought age an indicator of increased intelligence was clearly not examining the evidence sufficiently. Ellea made another try for the cakes. She had to climb up onto a chair to get high enough to reach the tray.

“Lunch should be ready downstairs. If you hurry and get cleaned up we can all go down together,” Mother said, picking Ellea up in both arms, and swinging her gently round. Mother set Ellea down on the floor while Ellea silently cursed her own small stature. “Go change for lunch,” Mother ordered her, not unkindly.

Ellea tried being direct. “I want a cake.”

“And don’t I know it. After lunch and not before.”

“Oh, those are lovely!” Anna said.

“They’re for you. You like cake, right?” Tam said.

Ellea rolled her eyes and stalked off to her room to change.

She emerged ten minutes later, tugging irritably at her hair ribbons, to find Djaren causing trouble. “I’m not going. Why are you going? Why are we going?” He was waving his arms about and looking outraged.

“Because we want to know what Marlton Chauncellor is up to, and what he did in Narmos that’s causing us so much difficulty with our papers,” Mother answered, putting one last amber pin in her high copper colored curls.

“Oh,” Djaren said. “Well, yes, we should do that. But to have to sit through a whole lecture of that obtuse and insult—”

“It might not all be rubbish, dear. Truth hides everywhere, remember? And young Varden may be presenting his new paper on Narmos’ history. You remember his piece in the journal.”

“I didn’t think it that original.” Djaren frowned. “Hepler had nearly the same conclusions.”

“I’ll be attending.” Anna emerged from her room in yet another new frock. Being sick seemed to mean you got everything nice, including your own room. Ellea was a little jealous. She’d never been sick. Neither had Djaren. She remembered how frightening it had been, watching Anna so pale and motionless, and worrying she might never leave that bed again. Ellea was immediately sorry she’d been jealous and ran up to give Anna a hug. Anna hugged her back, and then fixed her hair ribbons. “Sweet Ellea. Tam brought cakes. Would you like some? I know you like lemon, so I’ve set those all aside for you.”

Ellea gave Anna an extra hug and took her hand. “Thank you. After lunch, please, I would like the lemon ones.”

Djaren was still frowning.

“I feel badly for the Chauncellor boys. They’ve been living at schools for most of their lives. Neither of them has had the kind of experience you’ve enjoyed, dear,” Mother told Djaren, straightening his collar. “You learned to walk at dig sites and could read hieroglyphs along with your alphabet. Varden’s only just been published last autumn, and you’ve helped me with your father’s last two books. I do think the scholarly world will prove big enough for the both of you. Divergent viewpoints round out the world and make it spin properly.”

“He says the demon god Kesh was a hoax perpetuated by priests to consolidate and hold political power,” Djaren said. “The god’s possession of wielders of the seal, he claims, was merely something priests pretended at, to make their enemies fear the power of their mythical god.”

“I rather hope he’s right,” Mother said.

“An item that gives its bearer the powers of a demon god wouldn’t be friendly to have about,” Ellea said, mind to mind, so only Mother and Djaren could hear. “Is that what Father is finding?”

“Shh,” Mother said, in the same way. “Here are the boys, and it’s time for luncheon.”