UNMARKED

8: King's Orders

The following morning, Blayre rolled over to face her chamber door, from which a persistent rap rap rap. Rap rap. Rap rap rap. drifted to her.

    With a muffled groan into her pillow, Blayre sat up and swung her legs off the small bed in her dormitory. Her hands sunk into the softness of her quilt and she dozed where she sat until another series of knocks rapped across the room.

    "I'm coming." She grumbled, her throat scratchy with disuse.

    Not bothering to remove her nightclothes, she peered out the peephole and squinted to see the crown of a head of glossy auburn hair. She was wide awake in an instant, squealing with joy as she threw open the door and Ainslee barreled in, giving Blayre a forceful hug despite her small frame.

    "Sun and Moon, I thought I'd be stuck in those mountains forever." Ainslee said, flopping back-first onto Blayre's bed, her arms spread out wide, short legs dangling over the side.

    "Well make yourself at home, why don't you." Blayre jested, crossing her arms.

    Ainslee's head popped up, "I think I will." And then promptly sunk back down.

    Shaking her head, Blayre moved to her wardrobe. She supposed she should don her dress uniform for meeting the king, but longingly touched a soft chiffon blouse in the royal blue and silver of Blumore. She played with the end of her hair. Either way she needed a bath first - her hair still carried the lingering smell of perfume and incense from the Dragon Room the night before.

    "When did you and Fletcher get back?" She asked her friend, resignedly pulling out the uniform and placing it on a hook on the wall beside her mirror. She glanced at Ainslee in the mirror's reflection while she gathered some things to take down to the baths

    "Late last night." Ainslee sighed, not moving. "We hit a hail storm just outside of Mountainvale that thoroughly slowed us down."

    "And the results of the assignment? Did you turn anything up?"

    Ainslee propped herself onto her elbows, "We barely found anything - nothing that lead us to the culprits anyway. Or culprit - I think it was judging by the size of the abandoned workroom. We did find this . . ." Blayre caught sight of something glittering in her friend's hand in the reflection in the mirror. She turned with a start and strode over to her to get a better look.

    "Twelve hells." She breathed. It was another crystal - much like the one that Rory had been impaled with. This one caught the light from Blayre's bedroom window and shimmered like a brilliant sunset - rust and pink and wine. She reached out tentatively, wanting to see if it contained any power.

    She was disappointed when she felt nothing. Not even a trace as she tossed the crystal from one hand to the other. Either it had all leaked out as it had with Rory's, or it had never contained anything to begin with. Her hand went to her pocket to touch the other crystal.

    "It may not even be related to magic," Ainslee was saying. "It could mean nothing - but we did find a couple of papers wedged into the floorboards in the room." She sat up all the way.

    Blayre raised an eyebrow, holding out the crystal to reluctantly return it to her friend. Holt. "And what of them?"

    "Just sketches," Ainslee shrugged, putting the crystal back. "Crumpled and faded and difficult to decipher. Holt has them."

    "Well I would like to see them later, if I may." Blayre said, putting on her robe to wear to the baths. "Unfortunately I don't have time now, I have an important day ahead."