I have no idea how we’re going to rule ourselves, she admitted, turning her thoughts toward the Heavens. Gods and Goddesses . . . and in particular, my Goddess, Guildra . . . I hope You’ll give us good, solid ideas on what to do in the coming weeks and months and years.
Grandmaster Toric rapped his stone-tipped gavel one more time, this time in the pattern that invoked the Consulate meeting, and then there was no more time for idle speculation. Rexei was a Guild Master of a shattered nation that had to vote on whether or not to be a whole nation, or at least whatever parts of said nation cared to rejoin with its brethren. That would require concentration, even if the meeting threatened to run long.
It was only early afternoon, and it looked like the food was being supplied by the Hospitallers Guild this time; if the meeting ran to suppertime, there would undoubtedly be spicy and sweet pocket pies for everyone to eat, shipped in from the nearest taverns and inns. Thank the Gods . . . Guildra, I mean, she corrected herself. Thank You for small, tasty favors.
• • •
Alonnen did not like the way that sap master in the third row kept staring at the new head of the Holy Guild. It had taken him a good hour of covert study to realize the symbol on the other man’s master’s medallion was the branch and sap of the Laticifers Guild. There was no logical connection he could see between the makers of tree-sap rubber and Rexei’s lengthy history . . . unless perhaps the man knew her from her short time in the Lumber Guild. A short time, however, would surely not have generated any of the intense looks aimed her way.
When Grandmaster Toric finally ended the meeting, Alonnen’s mind was not on the laws that had been altered and passed. It wasn’t on the extra budget allocated to his guild for paying for the rehabilitation and reintegration of the mages who had to be passed to the safety of the carefully unmentioned Vortex, because their personal shielding was nearly nonexistent after too many years of being locked in spell-controlled mindlessness. It wasn’t on the fact that the Holy Guild now had a budget; one-third of the funds originally tithed to the Priests Guild were now allocated to her needs and the other two-thirds to a new-kingdom fund, but only those funds from all the cities which had attended and agreed to become a part of Guildra.
He wasn’t even thinking about the fact that they still needed a blessed, sacred bell to formally ring and summon proof that they were their own kingdom, with a Patron and a voice and an identity, though they now had eight cities and villages firmly under the banner of Guildara, and seven more whose representatives needed confirmation from the folks back home that this was the right thing to do.
His thoughts arrowed in on the need to get Rexei away from that older man before . . . well, he didn’t know what might happen. Rising from his seat the moment Toric set the mallet down, Alonnen hurried to the end of the table. Stooping over Rexei’s shoulder, he reached for the papers in front of her. “Right, then. Time to go.”
“I can’t leave just yet,” she murmured back, pressing the papers back down when he tried to lift them. “I have someone to talk to first. Plus my apprentices need a place to stay,” she added. Looking up at Alonnen, she gave him a wry smile. “I’d prefer it if that were somewhere near my current residence, but if you’d rather not, then I can get them somewhere here in town. At least I have the funds to pay them some wages now.”
“I’ll see what rooms can be found for them. But we really have to go now,” he warned her, seeing a certain dark-haired man working his way forward through the tide of bodies headed for the doors out of the meeting hall. Beside Rexei, Guild Master Grenfallow murmured a farewell and rose, her own notes cradled in her arms. Alonnen lifted his chin in reply, but he didn’t look at Saranei. She wasn’t the one who concerned him at this moment.
Rexei caught his stare and followed the line of his gaze. So that’s what this is about. He’s trying to be protective of me. She thought that was very nice, but unneeded at this point in time. Covering the hand still trying to pick up her papers, she smiled up at him. “It’s okay. I asked him to come talk to me.”
Alonnen frowned at that, but it was too late to question her. The dark-haired man made his way around the three Holy Guild apprentices, who were fielding questions from the others. Flicking a wary look at the green-spectacled Guild Master not quite looming over Rexei’s shoulder, he braced his palms on the front of the table, leaned over the corner, and spoke in a low, urgent tone.
“I have several questions for you, lad,” he asserted. A flick of his brown gaze at Alonnen’s face and back, and he added, “So unless you want this aired in public, I suggest you point out some place private where we can talk.”
“You’ll speak with Master Longshanks in full view of everyone else,” Alonnen told him, leaning half over Rexei’s shoulder. “If you want it private, keep your voice down.”
Eyeing the two men, both in their early thirties, both determined to have their way, Rexei sighed heavily. Scooting to her left on the bench into the fading warmth left behind by the head of the Actors Guild, she snapped her fingers under Alonnen’s sharp nose to get his attention, then pointed at the spot she had just vacated.
“You. Sit. Behave,” she added. Hesitating only a moment, Alonnen did as she bid. That freed her to face what she hoped was her half brother. “If your mum’s name was Luwese and your next-mother’s name was Yula . . . then you tell me the family name of Luwese, and I will tell you the family name of Yula.”
“How do you know such things?” Lundrei asked, suspicion clear in the narrowing of his brown eyes and the crease that formed between his brows.
He didn’t recognize her? Rexei had seen his long, hard looks all through the lengthy meeting, and she had hoped he had figured it out. I guess I need to start spending more time trying to look and act like a girl. Wear a dress, grow out my hair . . . well, not a dress all the time. Sighing, she fixed him with an honest, blunt look. “Because I earned a master rank in the Actors Guild?”
His brows lowered farther in confusion. She rolled her eyes. This close, she could feel his aura, though he wasn’t technically a mage. There were hints of home, of baked breads and worn fabric, in its feel, but there was also something else, something like a cheese that had aged and grown more sharp. Rexei wasn’t sure yet if she liked the new flavor of her brother. Or how long it was taking him to get her point.
“As a lad?” she emphasized carefully.
Comprehension dawned. Eyes widening and brows lifting in shock, he gaped at her for one moment, then lunged inward, arms wide—and got stopped by the slapping of Alonnen’s palm on his chest, straight-arming him from behind Rexei’s neck.
“Guild Master Longshanks asked you a question, Master Laticifer,” he growled, using the man’s guild for lack of a family name. “You will answer it to both our satisfaction.”
Lundrei pulled back, visibly affronted and tense with a pent-up retort. Rexei blushed a little, but she didn’t counter or soften Alonnen’s demand. Sharp brown eyes flicked between her face and her companion’s before the man standing to her left did an odd thing.