Through the Seasons: Part One - New Growth

[lar_laughs]

Here's a story of The World. Seeing what there is to see. This complete story is tentatively called Through the Seasons. That's still a working title but I haven't come up with a good one yet. Odd since I normally come up with the titles first.

If you offered up a writing idea in an earlier post, you might recognize some of the prompts littered throughout the story. I gave myself one to work off whenever I got sort of bogged down and they definitely helped!

Title: Through the Seasons: Part One - New Growth
Fandom: Original - The World
Main Characters: Marley, Johnny, Chloe
Word Count: 10948
Things that might be good to know: Ta=Miss; Tar=Mrs.; Ter=Mr.

Part One - New Growth
(Fortieth Year of King Halland the Third’s Reign - Growing Season)
Word Count: 10948


“You look beautiful. Have you looked in a mirror yet? Johnny, come look at Marley. Isn’t she beautiful tonight? Such a change.”

“She’s always beautiful, Mother.” It was said with such easy charm that the spark of pleasure Marley felt at his first glance almost disappeared completely. Leave it to Johnny and his mother to destroy her good mood yet again. It seemed to be what they did best. Elizabeth was so high-strung that it ruffled Marley’s nerves just to be around her. Her son, on the other hand, was exactly the opposite; his quiet glances made her feel entirely too content. If she was a cat, she might be induced to purr and rub herself against his leg in hopes of more attention. That was exactly what unsettled her.

“Thank you, Elizabeth, but it’s just an old dress. I’ve had it in my closet forever. Today is a celebration and I thought I would dress up a bit. Keep with the mood.”

“Yes, yes. A celebration. I must go over the list for Cook once again.” The older woman clapped her hands together and, just like that, Marley was forgotten.

It was disconcerting to be left alone with Johnny. The two of them stared at each other as if they dared not look away. Marley held her breath as he stepped forward but it was just so he could reach the pair of spectacles on the small table she’d been leaning on. As he adjusted them over his warm brown eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to get her heart to stop beating so quickly.

“I should go see if I can make myself useful.”

Johnny nodded, his nose scrunching up as he tried to get used to the eyeglasses again. He only wore them when he was forced into situations where there might be a crowd. Today’s party would most likely be a crush as Elizabeth was prepared to share her good fortune with anyone who cared to show up. Everyone was welcome when it came to one of these types of society parties.

“And I need to get back to my work until I’m needed downstairs.”

Marley shook herself out of the dream of the last several moments. “Of course. And here I’ve kept you talking when you’ve important things to attend to.”

He protested but she refused to turn back to face him. When she was out of sight, she took a moment to sag against the wall. This was growing old, the need she had to belong to this household. She’d originally met Elizabeth at a fundraiser for the Tierra Foundation, a group she routinely worked for, and had offered her services as a trained Yellow Talent. The gardens at Rushton Cottage were in desperate need of cultivation and care, both of which Marley was ready to dole out. She’d been excited about the prospect of a job that might propel her into a part of society that she had only dreamed about intersecting with. These people had money and large estates. Surely that meant they also had lush stretches of grass and vast gardens. She was more than willing to use her gift to help them flourish as she had here.

But Rushton Cottage proved to be the only place she wanted to work. She had been recommended to those other gardens but none of them were anything but a stretch of forced roses that only bloomed in the brightest sun – and even then it was doubtful if they would do it more than once. Marley despaired of this type of vegetation. It was esthetically beautiful in the same way that her outfit tonight was. Lovely for one purpose but quickly faded.

Elizabeth had wanted that sort of garden so she could be properly compared with her friends and acquaintances. Those were the houses that were pictures in all the best publications. Marley had worried that the woman would never listen to reason and let her perform the magic she knew she could work on this place. It was only after Johnny arrived home that first time that the tide changed and she was able to get her way.

For months now she had been laboring away to transform the four acres into something truly astounding. Her time here was coming to an end. While Elizabeth was appreciative of what she had accomplished, it was not enough for her to extend an invitation to keep coming back. She might even have thrown Marley out of her house completely if she even glimpsed Marley’s true feelings for her only son and heir to the Rushton Cottage and subsequent fortune.

Servants were moving rapidly in and out of the main room, setting up a buffet of so many different types of food that Marley was sure there were people going hungry tonight because of a food shortage somewhere else. She had helped the decorator with pots of fresh vines and several vases of fresh flowers. Normally she wouldn’t have killed flowers needlessly by cutting the min their prime but Elizabeth demanded their presence in the Main Room where her guests would spend most of their time. Hoping to keep in her employer’s good graces for a bit longer, Marley had acquiesced. In the end, it was truly a beautiful room.

“Ta?”

Marley moved quickly to get out of the way of a group of maids trying to get through the doorway she was carelessly blocking. “So sorry, Annabelle. Can I help with anything?”

The main floor made, a girl very close to her age, shook her head as she moved out of the line of workers so her pause would not cause them to have to stop. “No thank you, Ta. We’ve got it all under control here. Besides you’ll ruin your pretty dress.”

Marley fingered the thin silk, as close as she could come to the natural fabrics she normally wore and still be presentable at a party like this. “I can’t ruin anything by walking back and forth.”

“Thank you, Ta, for the offer. We’ll be fine. Have fun at the party.”

Seeing as she had suddenly become “Ta,” Marley didn’t press the issue. Until an hour ago, she’d simply been Marley to the staff at Rushton Cottage. She doubted she would be able to fall back so easily into the camaraderie with the people who had become her friends while she had been working on the gardens.

There was not enough time to go back to sulk in her rented rooms in a house down the street and she had no desire to roam about the house, potentially getting in the way of more of the staff. Johnny would be in the suite of rooms he used as an office when he was home, happily going over his papers until he was forced to come downstairs. There were not many common rooms for her to hide in until she was needed. Her first instinct was to flee to the gardens but they had also been made ready for the party, a natural guest of honor that was the focal point of this party.

That left the library.

Most of the time Marley was uncomfortable around books. They reminded her of school and that often led to thoughts of the people she had befriended there and then left behind. Those were memories she didn’t like reminiscing over too often. With some trepidation she entered the large room. It took up nearly half of the second floor of the house, roughly the size of the Main Room down below, and shared the same floor to ceiling windows as that room. It looked out over the gardens, a fact that Marley had never thought about until this moment.

A large fireplace dominated the opposite wall and a fire had already been lit agasint the damp. Marley stood close to its warmth, hoping to ward off the chill of the evening as the first moon was completely set. The words themselves also caused her to feel a deep cold that she never felt when she was outside, even in the deepest winter. There was nothing green here. Nothing that was alive. Johnny had once laughed when she had said that very thing to him when he’d first brought her here to show her a book on plants he’s recently purchased at an estate sale.

“Words, in a sense, are alive. They can never die.”

“That,” she’d retorted acidly, “would make them more like zombies than a truly living creature.”

His chuckle at the comment had grated on her already strained nerves even though it was the first time she’d heard him make that lovely sound or seen his eyes crinkle up in mirth. She wanted him to find her interesting but he only found her amusing, something to be laughed at.

“But I love him no matter that I am nothing to him,” she whispered into the still room as the memories of him flooded over her. “I’ve never loved another as I’ve loved him these past months. It has changed me. I’ll never be the same Marley Wilde again. How sad. This new me has no place to belong.”

(a blue ribbon with a frayed end) The smell of burning fabric brought her out of her reverie quickly. She’d gotten too close to the fire and several of the ribbons that hung down from the tied sash at her waist had begun to singe in the heat. Quickly she dampened down the fabric with her fingers but the damage was done. She pulled the belt off and stared at it sadly. The rich blue had complimented the pale silver of the dress well. If she could find some scissors she might be able to save some of it so that it still might tie. It wouldn’t hang down as nicely as it had before but that might not be so bad considering the crowd she would be in later.

As she looked around, Marley realized there was nothing around she might use to separate the scorched part of the ribbon from the whole section. The books were no help. If she had trusted the fire more, she might have asked it to finish the job. That left her own Talent but there wasn’t much call for Yellows to sever anything like this. She concentrated on the fabric and felt the two parts split apart. It wasn’t pretty or neat but it was done at last and Marley let the scraps of silk fall to the ground as the door opened.

“Is there anyone in here?”

“It’s me, Elizabeth. I came in here to get out of the way.”

“Oh, dear Marley. You’re being silly. You’re never in the way. This party is only possible because of you.”

“Everyone will love your gardens.” Marley smoothed her hands over the material at her hips. The gardens were truly magnificent – thanks to her Talent – but Marley couldn’t help but be jealous. All the flowers were able to stay but she would be leaving. It wasn’t fair.

“And it’s all thanks to you.”

“Will you let me visit them from time to time?” Marley asked innocently, linking her arm with the older woman’s.

Elizabeth’s lips thinned for a second before the bright smile returned to her thin face. “You’ll be so busy with all the new jobs you’re sure to pick up because of your work here. The flowers will have to learn to live without you.”

The flowers? Or Johnny? She began to wonder if the mother sensed her growing infatuation for her son. It had seemed as if she had kept the yearning in check all these months. Most of the time it had been easy for he had been away. She had never known where. Everyone she had asked, even the undermaids who were always so full of gossip, had merely said, “He is away, Ta.” That had always been her cue to step back and fall silent. Oh, how she hated the way they called her “Ta” as if she was acting out of her station and they were reminding her of where she had started from.

“I’ve got time to visit,” Marley answered quickly. “No jobs have come my way just yet.”

“They will, dear. They will.” Elizabeth began patting Marley’s arm but it turned into a more forceful motion as they got closer to the Main Room. “Do be a good girl and smile tonight. That will help. People must think you enjoy your job.”

But I do, Marley thought but she kept the words to herself. No use arguing at this point in the evening. It would just give Elizabeth something to fret about. Better just to blend in and get lost in the crowd.

***

He hadn’t meant to stay silent but her arrival to the library had stunned him. Never before had she ever expressed an interest in the room and he knew she mistrusted the books themselves. Just as he wasn’t altogether comfortable among the plants she miraculously brought out of the soil, so she didn’t seem to appreciate his world. He was only a minor Blue Talent, no one of any great repute, but he still enjoyed spending time with the books that had been such a part of his father’s life. That might explain why Marley seemed to enjoy his company but resented the books. She would not have like his father.

That thought made Johnny smile. He hadn’t like his father much either. The only thing they had shared in their strained relationship was a fondness for words. The elder Ter Rushton had been content to acquire the books, reading through them as quickly as he could get his failing eyes to work. Johnny, on the other hand, yearned to write more books, to add his words to these hallowed shelves. They had laughed at his dreams at school, where he’d been near the bottom of the list. It was a good thing his family had money and connections, he had been told on more than one occasion, because no one would come looking for a talent as weak as his.

He’d come home in disgrace and hidden from the world until they conveniently forgot what he couldn’t do. Now they only remembered what he could do. The ones that mattered, that was. If Marley truly knew what he did, he wondered if she’d be impressed. Not just anyone could do what he did. It embarrassed his mother to now end. Elizabeth begged him on a daily basis to cease his wanderings and settle here at Rushton Cottage with her. They could have a good life together. He wanted more than a good life with his mother. He wanted his dreams realized and nothing less.

As the two women walked out of the room together, Johnny let out the breath he’d been holding. The book in his hand felt as if it had added several thousand pages to its already considerable bulk and he hurriedly sat it back in its place on the shelf. It had occurred to him many times that he could have made his presence known at any point but always there was the reminder that he wasn’t to be paying attention to his mother’s gardner. Elizabeth had never said anything out loud but he had always seen it in her eyes. Leave this Yellow trash alone, my boy. You were made for more.

And then there was the matter of his employers. “If this is to work, John, you must keep yourself separate from everyone. No one must suspect you are anything but a monied hermit.”

He’d had so much practice that he often lost himself in the role. Then Marley had arrived and he had found himself warming to her. Ter Patric had been the first to recognize the change. He had informed Ter Galloway about the development which resulted in hours of meetings. The end result was much the same as what his mother was silently conveying. Stay away from Marley Wilde. Nothing good can come of it.

The ribbons were still where she had dropped them. As he leaned forward to pick them up, he discovered he could still smell her unique scent. If he closed his eyes, it was as if she was still standing there, proclaiming her love in her smallest voice. It hadn’t stung like he had imagined it would, listening to someone declare their love against their better judgement. Maybe because she hadn’t really been saying it to him. as it unto a lover. It had been more of a declaration of intent, as if she needed to say it so that it was said and could not be taken back.

“And I love you.” The stillness ate away his words until they had never been said. This was why he preferred the written word. Those kinds of words were much more real. Of course, he had those in abundance. All the words he wrote were for her; declarations of his admiration and adoration. They were all here whether or not she wanted them.

***

“It is definitely a sight to behold. So many different plants all in one place. It’s like... a jungle.”

Marley winced as the group of women laughed, high and grating sounds that were more about mocking than amusement. She had wandered out to the first section of garden with them, hoping to hear some admiring words for her work. Her real hope was to have one of them say out loud that they wished for the same thing so she could sweep in and proclaim herself the creator of this masterpiece and offer to create one for them as well. No one, it appeared, cared for this particular masterpiece. Neither had they ventured past this first phase to the next two layers. At the heart lay her truest masterpiece but no one had laid eyes on it yet tonight.

Before she could offer to take the women further in, they turned away and began walking up to the house. The flowers were all but forgotten as they discussed the news of Molly Wiggin’s upcoming marriage. One of the ladies had viciously ripped away one of the brightest flower specimen and placed it in her hair. It was already wilting but Marley felt only amusement. While that particular bloom was especially lovely with its bright blue petals and golden pistol, the plant exuded a rather sticky substance when injured to keep away its natural predators. The woman’s hair style would be a mess in less than half an hour. If the group had been halfway pleasant, Marley might have stopped her and taken it out carefully to keep the damage to a minimum.

“This is rather an exuberant display of the new style of gardening, don’t you think?”

As she was the only other person standing near this new arrival, Marley drug her gaze from the retreating society wives and plastered a pleasant smile on her tired face. “It isn’t really new. This type of garden is actually more in tune with how plants grow outside the cities.”

The old man she was now addressing would have narrowed his eyes if they hadn’t already been mere slits between two folds of skin. His whole body looked to be hanging skin as if he’d once been a very fat man who was now pared down to just the most essential components that kept him held together.

“Have you ever been outside the cities? The wilds are not any place I would want to visit and the desert is a barren expanse of nothing.”

“There are many things, actually, that grow in the desert. Many people think it is a beautiful place.”

“Are you a sympathizer?”

“No, just someone who doesn’t believe beauty needs to be safe.”

It was dangerous to get into conversations about the continuing strife with the nomads of the southern desert. While Marley wasn’t one for political talk, she knew that this sort of conversation could have serious consequences if the right people heard and got the wrong idea. While she had only ever seen pictures or a few of the specimens that had survived the trip between the more civilized cities and the barren part of the continent, Marley had found much to appreciate about the desert areas.

“So this isn’t safe?” The man pointed out toward where the glowing path led. She had purposefully chosen rocks to pave it that would glow no matter the conditions. Elizabeth had moaned at the expense and time it took for the specially ordered materials to arrive but it was a perfect path.

“Not entirely. It really depends on what your idea of safety is. For instance, I don’t find everything back there particularly safe.” She pointed back toward the house. Laughter and the gentle swell of the quartet hired for the evening could just barely be heard as if it might be another universe, imagined but not nearly as real as the things nearby that could be seen and touched.

The man looked between the two directions and began to laugh. This was a crystal clear sound that could only mean amusement. “So it is. Wise of you not to trust what are told to trust.”

***

The blue dress hung on a peg in Marley’s room, a limp relic of an evening she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to remember. It was a blur after she took her leave of the man with the skin rolls and nice laugh. She remembered eating and drinking while skirting around the edges of the glittering Main Room but little else. While she might have conversed with other people, she could not remember what she might have said. If anyone had offered her a job she hoped they had the sense to talk to her about it again now that the party was over. The odds, however, were slim of that ever happening.

“Ta Wilde?” The matron of the house was knocking at the door, her tapping hesitant but insistant. “Will you be staying on, Ta Wilde?”

Ah, she was after the rent. Marley had told her that she’d be able to give her a clearer timeline after the grand party at the Rushton Cottage. As she let her landlady in, she could see the greedy light flame up in her eyes. The woman had gone so far as to divide up her large house into a series of small rooms so that she could continue to support herself after loosing her husband and, subsequently, a steady income. Thanks to her calm manner and persuasive tactics, she was surviving quite nicely from the looks of things.

“I shall be out by tomorrow morning. It is just a matter of gathering together my belongings.”

“Such a pretty dress, Ta Wilde. Did you wear that last night to Tar Rushton’s soiree?”

Marley could only nod. Her throat was suddenly clogged from the mirade of emotions teeming through her.

“You must have looked beautiful. Catch a beau, did you?”

The woman had a one-track mind. She’d been happily married for Harrol Dillis long enough to have taken a fancy to the idea of matrimony. While it didn’t look as if she’d be remarrying any time soon, no man having stepped up to apply for the position of second husband, she loved the idea of it happening to others.

“No beau, Tar Dillis. My job is over and I’m moving on. Tis time I started to look elsewhere for a place to make things grow.”

“You’ve no job? Poor dear. Yes, it’s probably better that you begin looking elsewhere.” Away from my perfectly good room that I can rent out to another schmuck willing to pay my exorbitant prices.

“Away is best,” Marley agreed. “I’ll be on my way tomorrow.”

Leaving the next day had just been a phrase she had plucked from the air when pressed but Marley began to see all that she needed to accomplish before she left. Most of it would need to be in the dark. As she waited for the first sun to set, she began to pack her bags and make plans for the future. If nothing came to her before tomorrow, she would go back to San Martins Street. Chloe would be glad to see her, would welcome her back with a warm hug and some of the stew she was always cooking up out of anything that she could scrounge from her gardens or the market. It would be impolite to arrive without a gift and Marley knew exactly what she wanted to bring.

In the third level of the garden there were many exotic and lush plants that most people, even extreme Yellow Talents such as herself, had never laid eyes on. When word had gotten around that she was daring to use such plants, several letters had arrived. One had been from the city council who had been alerted of her audacity. They had wanted to verify that there would be no contamination of other nearby homes and the city gardens. She had sent back a short note assuring them that there was nothing to be afraid of. These were not carnivorous plants and wouldn’t destroy their environment.

The other letters were from colleagues, intrigued by her employer’s purchase. They wanted to know specifically how they were being used and what methods she was putting in place for their care. In essence, they were trying to figure out if they could come by a cutting or two without their presence being known. In those return letters, Marley had been sure to stress the safeguards she had put in place for the plants safety. They were measures that would keep out predators like these other Yellows but that she could lift anytime she wanted.

Using the dimmer light of the second sun to guide her, Marley made her way down little used paths and alleys until she came to the back of the Rushton property. This was the weak spot in the garden’s security. It would be the easiest place for her to infiltrate the sanctuary. Even still, it was dangerous. The asking was simple enough but she was always cautious not to anger the plants. She had seen what a pouting plant could do and she had no wish to end her days ripped to shreds by twisting veins or impaled by thorns and left to bleed to death.

The hedge parted easily enough for her but she took a moment to silently send out her thanks. She opened her eyes and waled through the opening. For a heart rending moment she stood looking at Rushton Cottage for the last time. It was monstrously large and so ugly it made her back teeth hurt but it had been a home of sorts. Of a very little sort but that hardly mattered. She wouldn’t be back. There was no need for her to stay here any longer. Her purpose had come to her in the hours she’d waited for this last deed.

As the final sun’s rays dipped down over the walls of the city, Marley looked for the path that she knew would be there. Sure enough, the stones began to gleam ever brighter as the light dimmed.

At the heart of every garden Marley had ever created lay a mystery. This was no different. The stone had been her main struggle, one that she’d worked on almost as soon as she’d come to the project. It was merely a large piece of the darkest black stone she could come up with but she’d gone round to all the Red Talents she could find to see if one of them could cut it the way she wanted. The final project, as she’d seen it in her head, had been crudely drawn on the back side of a peat moss bag with a bit of charcoal.

To some it might still look like a large rectangular piece of rock. To anyone with a bit of imagination, it was a large book. Inscribed on the top flat surfaces were a group of sigils, warm on one side and cool on the other. Both read: May your heart always be full of the beauty that surrounds you here. Find it and never lose it. Peace be the journey.

Tears fell freely from her eyes as she traced her fingers over the sharp indentions. It had hurt when she’d realized what her unintentional design really was. Without realizing it, she had set up a monument to her love for Johnny Rushton.

***

The dim light of the candles made the shadows of the room dance and weave about, almost a farcical play of what might have been happening in the room. Johnny was sitting completely still in his chair in the corner, watching the gaggle of his mother’s friends as they chirped at each other. Even though they’d seen each other the day before, every single one had come back for tea and cakes and lively dissection of yesterday’s events. It hurt his eyes to watch them in this dull light but Elizabeth liked the drama of the uncertain flame against her aging skin.

Several of the women began to laugh, drawing his attention to their vain gathering once again. “Can you even imagine what it must cost in upkeep?” “You wouldn’t catch me doing that to my lawn.” “Such a waste. They brought in a Yellow Talent with no concept of what is in style right now. It’s like I always say, those Warm ones never understand.”

His hands flexed on the padded arms of the chair at the murmured insults. Granted, it was just the same things he had himself thought at the beginning. That was before her wide eyes and engaging smile had captured his heart. Now he was beginning to see what she saw when she looked at the garden.

“Johnny, would you be able-”

He shook his head, something he had never done to his mother. “There’s something I need to do. I’ll be back.”

Before Elizabeth could protect, he was out of the room and striding down the long hall that would eventually take him out of the house. It felt as if he would never reach the safety of the night air, as if he was actually not moving at all.

When he at last he burst out into the open, it was as if he could breath once again, like his lungs had begun to work properly at last. There was no light to guide him but the twin slits of the moons, one waning while the other waned, and the glow of the garden path. He had only been down the path once when Marley had taken he and Elizabeth for the final walk through. She had pointed out things of interest with such enthusiasm and joy that Johnny had felt as if he was just a visitor to this place, instead of walking through his own land.

He wished he could see it as she did. Parts of it looked wild and unkempt even to him. What must it look like to those women in the house who didn’t care to look as closely as he did? They wouldn’t be able to see how the fall of Echo Vine was artistic in its presentation, how she must have worked long hours to convince it to grow in the waves of green and fuschia so that it felt as if he would drown under waves of the plant. He had been reading about some of the plants just in case there had ever been opportunity for a conversation about any of them. Pity that Marley was going to leave without hearing his own thoughts of how to trim back Adven so that it might bloom at both sunsdown and sunsrise. It was nothing he’d actually tried but the idea seemed to have merit after everything he’d been able to read on the subject.

The walk through the tangles of color and deep green entranced him so that he was surprised to come to the clearing in the very center of the garden. He hadn’t expected it so quickly, remembering, from his last visit, how long the walk had been before.

There was a shadow that should not have been there. He took a defensive position, reaching silently down to pull the sharp knife from the top of his boot. It began to unfold, writhing like a spirit of the place with a profusion of leaves and blooms in one hand.

“What are you doing here?”

He relaxed somewhat when he heard her voice, querulous in the quiet of the place. “I might ask you the same thing seeing as this is my property.”

(silver dagger) Marley held her own silver dagger in one hand, a tangle of vines in the other. Her face was in shadow so he couldn’t see how guilty she might be looking. If, in fact, she felt guilt for being here without an invitation. It was hers after all. Even he thought of it as her sanctuary.

“I came to say goodbyes. I leave in the morning.”

“You came to say goodbye to Elizabeth? Seems an odd place to meet her for a proper farewell. Or were you going to journey up to the cottage?”

“Elizabeth? No, not her. To the plants and flowers. It would be inappropriate to leave without so much as a passing not to let them know I’ll be thinking of them.”

“Will you miss them?” Johnny asked even though he meant Will you miss me? but was too frightened to ask such a question.

“Of course. They have been my life for so long that it feels as if I am leaving behind a bit of my soul.”

“But they’re just plants.”

“Wouldn’t you feel the same if you had to leave behind your books with no one to love them like you would? That is the deepest rub. This will be a jungle in a years time without someone to remind it what it is to be.” She was busy wrapping the strand of leaves and putting them all into a bag hanging from her waist. It was always with her and he had seen her pulling all sorts of needful things from its small depths before tonight.

“You could teach me. I could at least try to carry on your work.”

“That would never work,” she insisted after a short moment of silence as if she had considered his offer seriously. “First, you don’t have any of the right training. It takes years of learning the craft and that is with the proper Talent. Second, you aren’t at home nearly often enough for the plants to learn to trust you.”

Johnny thought about protesting but her second point was valid. He had been at home more often of late only because he’d been refusing assignments to be close to her. Once she left, he would have no reason to turn down work. That would make his employers happy. “What will you do?”

“What I’m meant to do.” She pushed the silver dagger into a holder tied to her upper leg before letting her skirt fall back into place to hide it once again. It was one of her usual work costumes that would have blended into her surroundings in the light of day. Now she glowed in the light of the moons as many of the leaves around her did. He’d always imagined her as a creature of the sunslight but really she thrived just as well in the dark. What mattered, he realized for the first time, was that she be in the open air. The light mattered little to what and who she was.

As she was turning to leave, he took a chance and moved forward. “Will I see you again?”

She let him get close enough so that he could feel her skin’s warmth before she put up a hand to keep him back. “That’s up to you, Ter Rushton. Give me a job and I’m sure we will.”

Her words were icy, stinging him so that he nearly retorted in kind before realizing what she was doing. “That’s not what I meant, Marley. I didn’t mean as employer and employee but as man and woman.”

Marley put her hand down on the smooth surface of the stone monument, caressing the stone’s surface as he wished she would touch him. “You don’t know what you ask. We’re too different, Johnny.”

His name was nearly the caress he wanted. It felt like a kiss on a cheek as her words moved through the air. These were not the kinds of words that he would soon forget or that would disappear into silence.

“Not so different.”

“More different than you will let yourself realize or you would not ask this of me. Surely your mother-”

“My mother be damned! This is between you and I and no other.”

“You would damn your mother? Surely not. She is your world. Your very existence. You may not think so but you come back to this place like you cannot survive long away from her. She is important to you.”

“Not that important.”

“Important enough. And what would we do when we met again as man and woman?” Her hands were tracing the lines of the rock now, smoothing over the roughened edges of the letters as if she wanted to memorize the words by feel alone. How he wanted to be the thing she was caressing so thoroughly but he still needed to prove himself to her before that would happen.

“Talk. Eat. We could go to a cafe and-”

“You would be seen in public with me? Would they even let in one of the Warm Sect into this cafe of yours? Our hands are usually rough for such an establishment. The stains on our clothes alone are enough to get us thrown out of most places.”

“It wouldn’t be like that.”

“What would it be like?” Her words were angry, spitting out of her mouth as if she couldn’t bear to have them inside any longer. “Would we hide in a back corner where we might be overlooked by the other patrons and staff? Or maybe you’re thinking I might take you along to my side of town. Hardly. I have a living to make and there’s still a chance I can find steady work with a merchant that might have use of my Talent. THey’d laugh me out of the shops if I was to be seen cozying up to someone like you. Trying to reach above what I’ve been called to do in life. I am a Yellow Talent. No use thinking I can be anything but.”

(a tarnished silver ring) He was struck dumb. With a few words she had struck down his every idea. As he pushed his hands into his pockets he could feel the bits of ribbon she had hacked off her dress. He had stuck them in there this morning as he might rub his fingers over them through the day and remember her. There was also a tarnished silver ring, a token from his childhood, among the coins that clattered in the very bottom. It was one of his habits to play with the round circle of metal when he was nervous or bored.

Johnny pulled out the ring and presented it to her, embarrassed that it looked frightfully old and tarnished. Not at all the kind of gift he would have given any other lady of his acquaintance. “Then take a token to remember me by. I don’t want you to forget your time here.”

It concerned him that she didn’t seem happy to have such a gift. In fact, she suddenly looked ill. Instead of trying to sooth over whatever he might have said with more words that would likely be taken just as poorly, Johnny stayed silent until her cheeks finally got their color back. Too much color.

“My but that’s selfish of you. What if I need to forget you for my own sanity? What if I’ll be able to sleep better at night because I’m not calling up the memory of your face to disturb my slumber?”

Even though it seemed as if she was going to turn him down, she took the ring from his outstretched palm where he’d kept it through her tirade. With a sigh partially of contentment as well as an equal part despair, he turned and walked away before she could decide to follow her words up with a deed he would not find acceptable. At least now he couldn’t see what she decided to do with his trinket. It dawned on him that he hadn’t asked for anything in return but when he turned back to ask for a token, she was gone. Another sigh ripped through him. A night bird echoed it back to him and then all fell silent.

***

(house plants that are thriving in their new home) “What a gift! Marley, it’s too extravagant.”

“I want you to have them. Give them a good home and that will be enough payment for me.”

“As if I would do anything but,” protested Chloe as she moved easily between the flourishing plants that littered the room. Here and there was a bit of color but the room was overwhelmed with shades of green. “These are exquisite. Dearest, however did you afford them? No one can produce this sort of specimen without having a starter. Mere magic will not do it alone. I should know. I’ve tried.”

Marley was quite comfortable in this room where the air was heavy with moisture and smelled of dirt and growth. She leaned her head back against the cushions of the overstuffed chair and just let herself relax. It had been months since she’d been this free of restraint. Sadly, her mind was still trying to make her sit up properly, urging her to act the part of the lady. Had she become so trained all that time at Rushton Cottage that she could no longer remembered her old life?

“It was no easy task, let me tell you. I had to find a dealer willing to part with snippets of both plants. Even with my connections from the school, it was no easy task. With all of my experience, I am still considered untried in some circles. No matter that I was top of my class, it isn’t enough for people who handle these sorts of plants.

Chloe stroked the tiny greenish-blue leaves of the Mandama Eristas. “Hard to believe that all that work was for nothing. You nearly killed yourself.”

“It wasn’t for nothing. I’m respected most everywhere else. Well, that’s not true. I do believe the society wives of ___(name of the main town)___ believe I’m a kook. The wildness of the garden scares them.”

“Bah. It should. That garden, from what you’ve told me, would require them to look deeply inside themselves to find the beauty in it. If they are as vapid as the other women I’ve met in that circle, they wouldn’t want to for fear of finding a void looking back at them from their soul.”

The sharp accusations and acidic tone made Marley laugh out loud. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, Chloe. I’m sorry I didn’t visit more. I kept telling myself that I would take an entire day off and come back here but there always seemed to be something to do that I couldn’t tear myself away from. Forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Chloe came back over to where Marley was reclining and put her hand on her friend’s lax arm. “I could have come to visit. Friendship runs two ways.”

“Would you? Come to visit?”

Chloe straightened up the wheels of her chair so that she was looking directly into Marley’s face. “I might have. Lately, I’ve been feeling... out of sorts. As if I’ve been shutting myself away from the good as well as the bad. Wondering what I’m missing.”

“There is much I’d like to show you. The city has grown since you were last outside your walls.”

“Yet no safer,” Chloe replied sadly. She still held Marley’s gaze with her great sad eyes, unwavering in her pain. “Those who know how to find me come here. Let the past fade into rumors and speculations. One day I will be able to just be another of the million people who wander down the boulevards and byways. Hopefully the Yellow Mage will become a fragment of memory, a story told around fires in the student garrets.”

“It was a stupid nickname, anyway.” Marley hung her head, unable to atone for her part in the atrocities that had been done to her friend. Never would she walk again. Although the wheeled chair got her where she wanted to go in her spacious home on San Martins Street, she felt it made her too conspicuous to be in public.

“And not entirely true. I was a conduit. Nothing more. I let the power go to my head.”

Moisture trickled down Marley’s cheeks. “We all goaded Masden. You are not to blame.”

“I could have said no at any time. It was simple enough to cut off the pathway he was using. Block his entrance if he tried to form a new connection.” This was the first time the two friends had talked this specifically about that fateful day on the roof of the Yormino Boarding House. Since Chloe seemed willing to talk about it, Marley was not going to ask her to stop even as the remembrance ripped through her. “Yes, you and Brigga were wrong for your part in the process but the blame is ultimately mine and Masden’s. Since he died, I am the sole owner as the dead have no regrets.”

“But you are alive. That’s all that really matters.”

When Chloe didn’t respond to Marley’s bit of __(glass is half full)__, she looked up to see if she had made it worse. It was a nasty habit of hers to always tried to find the good in every situation and that had often led to people misunderstanding and thinking she was making light when she was really trying to come to terms with it all herself.

There were tears in Chloe’s eyes but she was smiling. It was the same small smile that Marley had first seen on her face at Initiation, the one that made her realize that she and Chloe would be good friends. Great friends. The best of friends.

“You have kept me alive all these years, dearest. You and Sanchi. Without your visits, I would have lost all contact with the outside world. But you made sure that didn’t happen.”

Marley was speechless. There was nothing she could say to deny it for she knew it was true. Those early days of Chloe’s convalescence had been difficult but Marley had made herself come to see her friend, working through her own wounds from the blowout of Talent with feigned cheerfulness so that no one would ever know how much she was hurting. The important one was Chloe and she and Sanchi had made a pact to take care of their hurting friend. No matter what. It was that pact that strengthened her friendship with Chloe and tore it apart with Sanchi.

“How is Sanchi? Still working at the castle?”

“Promoted to Lead Gardener.” Chloe swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. A bracelet clattered up and down her thin wrist, the stones set in the silver glittering in the light of the first sun as it made a forceful entrance through the high windows. “She hasn’t been able to come by in person but she tries to send a letter a week. The Jubilee is taking up her time these days. The newspapers are claiming that visitors are expected from nearly every country on the earth. Our King is well-liked most everywhere.”

“Except his own country,” Marley muttered, having listened carefully to the conversations around Rushton Cottage.

“That is treasonous.” But the words were mild. “This dissension will fade soon enough. It’s just the fashion to dislike the King’s potion on the Southern Tribes at the moment. It will pass just as the others have.”

“Without war? Do you think we can actually get by this without any bloodshed?”

“Where is this coming from? You’ve never wanted to discuss politics before. Sanchi was always the one with the penchant for such talk. You always shied from it as if the very mention of the King was sour to you.”

Marley shrugged. “Maybe it was at one time. I was able to see a completely different side while I was working. There are people who have no other use for the King other than to tear him down for fun. Since I was also fodder for their tongues, it interested me to see who else they didn’t like. It ranged, for many of them, from dressmakers to the Silver Mage. Odd, don’t you think, that these people only complain about the people they know they will never interact with. They pay their dressmakers to keep their distance. The King is too far above them to be in their circle of true acquaintances. Most of them distrust the Silver Mage for all that they proclaim to find peace in his speeches of peace and prosperity.”

“Bah. His mumbo-jumbo is all crap. How dare he tell me that my heart should be in line with his teachings. As if he has all the answers. I’m thinking he is only after my hard earned income. I would think your parlor friends would have feigned over him and his talk of world-wide love to all.”

“Oh no. They can’t abide him. For all that he is one of their own, I do believe they feel for him the same way they feel for the garden at Rushton Cottage.” Even now she could feel the distance beginning to heal her. It was no longer “her” garden. What a relief to finally feel some relief from the constant strain of her leaving. “He asks them to look deep inside and find love for their neighbors. And, after all, he tells them to reduce their pocketbooks as a way of eternal relief. No rich man can enter the afterlife he preaches about.”

“And how,” Marley mused, her thoughts turned inward to the few conversations she’d heard about this man who proclaimed himself to be the so well-endowed with Silver Talent that he could touch the face of the heavens when he meditated, “does he expect to gain followers with this sort of talk? I know they flock to him but how many people truly follow his teachings? He claims that all Talents can serve this strange way of his. That it takes all kinds. But how can it ? He excludes so many.”

“How so?”

She began to tick them off by pointing at her fingers. “You cannot be rich. You cannot be too young for he does not let any unschooled child into his gatherings. I can’t say for sure but I wonder if he excludes the older generations. Those whose Talent have begun to wane. If you have shed blood, you are turned away. Perversely, he accepts any that have served in the King’s household without any discrimination.”

“Does he? I hadn’t heard that.”

Marley tried to remember where she had heard that particular piece of evidence but it was buried too deeply among other conversations. Surely something she had at Rushton Cottage. Had Johnny said something about it? He was tenuously connected to the King but she was not sure how.

“Ask Sanchi next time you write to her. See if she knows anything about it. I would think she would be a good source of the reality of the situation. Although I can’t see her being drawn into the man’s claims.”

“In her last letter, she asked what you would be doing after this job. Any ideas?”

“Ah, the crux of the matter. The all-important question that has no answer. No, I have no idea. Not really. Nothing concrete. I knew I needed to come back here. Will you let me stay with you until I find something?”

Chloe wheeled back to the new plants, her back turned at the very time that Marley would have appreciated being able to gaze into her deep eyes for the truth to the question. “But of course. You’re always welcome here.”

But for how long? Marley wondered. When would her presence become a nuisance instead of a yearned for visit?

“I’ve an appointment at the Foundation offices tomorrow. Liam seemed excited about seeing me but I don’t know how helpful I’ll be to Tierra now that let my Talent be sold to the highest bidder.”

“You had to support yourself. They understood that. How long could have you survived on the pittance they were paying you for your work there? Liam knows he’s lucky to have you back.”

“Let’s hope so. I need him to be forgiving. My idea... my idea might be too controversial for him.”

“Why? I thought you always said Liam had the most open mind of any Yellow Talent outside of Ter’a Ingram’s class at school?”

“He does. But his ideas only encompass how Tierra can be helped by the Warm Sect. Maybe we could bring in some of the Cool Sect to-”

“Marley Wilde! What have you been exposed to at that high class house? Surely those society wives haven’t filled your head with this nonsense?”

It would be useless to explain to Chloe what she was thinking in these early stages. The ideas were still fresh and she hadn’t thought completely through them yet to understand all the proper nuances she would have to deal with in bringing this idea forth.

“No, never them. They made me scorn the Cool Sect all the more, if I was honest. But... but there were those who had these ideas about working together. The King, after all, has one of each Talent on his council. If he does it than-”

“But he’s the King. And you don’t seriously think that he actually listens to anything they have to say? It’s a law from the oldest times. Back before the world knew fire.”

Marley let herself laugh even though she was becoming disgruntled. But what if he does believe that old law? she wanted to ask. Instead, she shook her head and stood up. “You’re probably right. I should go get dressed for dinner. Will it be on the back terrace?”

She waited for Chloe to nod and she was away, eager to be alone with her own thoughts for awhile. Too much talking always made her grumpy and she was feeling more out of sorts with all that had happened to her lately. Better she go off and come back only when she was prepared to smile and be a good house guest again.

***

Johnny straightened up and walked into the room with a stiff spine and shuttered expression. His presence was required at the Partnership Meeting, a group of people he’d never been invited to meet with before. This did not sit well with him. Not now when he was just beginning to get back into the swing of things once again. Would they reprimand him for his lack of connection with his job lately? He hoped not. The error of his ways had been shown to him in a mirade of small ways. He didn’t need his employers chastising him as well.

“Ter Gormando?” He addressed the Senior Partner with a small bow.

There was silence. Johnny couldn’t figure out if this was good or bad. He concentrated on standing very still so as not to ruin the moment. Obviously something important was coming. He just hoped he could stand through it. His knees felt watery with anticipation.

“John. Thank you for coming today.”

“As you wish, Ter Gormando.” He nodded to the other partners in turn, acknowledging their silent requests as well.

“Are you aware of the current political strife?” one of the lesser partners asked, a man he had never seen before in person but knew from his lack of hair to be Beldan Andrews. “The people’s lack of respect for the King?”

“Yes. In the time I’ve been asked to watch and listen through connections of my family, I’ve become aware of a certain unwillingness by many to understand or condone the King’s position on many things.”

“And you? How do you feel?” This was from the man seated next to Gormando. Ter Sullivan was a large man with large features, none of which now looked at all inviting of lies. Considering that Sullivan was the leader of the group that Johnny’s direct superiors were a part of, he would have thought that Sullivan understood his position in all of this. Nonetheless, he faced the man head on.

“I stand with the King, Ter Sullivan. After seeing all the evidence for myself-”

“But what of the time before you’d been shown the evidence? How did you feel then?”

“Considering that I was unaware of-”

“How did you feel about it? Don’t give me the verbage you think I want. I want to hear your own words.”

Johnny could tell he was being goaded into messing up here but he couldn’t figure out exactly where the attack was coming from. Did they want to know what he had truly once thought or were they eager to know if he still harbored some of that scepticism now?

“I hardly see how that mat-”

“Answer him, John.” This was from Gormando.

“As you wish, Ter Gormando. I believed what I was told to believe from my father and from my schooling. Both of the beliefs were much the same and I had no reason to disbelieve them.”

“They taught you sedition in school?” The only female partners sounded completely taken aback. Johnny turned to face her and was taken aback by the naked anger in her eyes. Did she think he was lying to her?

“Not sedition so much as a portion of the truth.”

“A portion?” “What portion?” “Is this acceptable?” “Our children! Horrible!”

The questions were coming at him from all sides of the room so that he was unable to answer them as he would have liked, by making eye contact and explaining himself as fully as he was able. In all the confusion, he somehow felt as if he was loosing whatever ground he had gained with his background and past exploits.

Turning back to Gormando, he maintained eye contact with the one man who mattered most. “I have never been part of any sedition,” he answered quietly, letting the hubbub continue around him. If they didn’t care enough to wait for his answers, he wouldn’t give them. “I am loyal to the King. I am loyal to this office. I have done what I could to further the mission of this office when I was able. For the most part, I have been asked to be what I once was. Even through that... I have always been loyal.”

“Silence!” Gormando roared, spittle flying from his mouth as he fought to regain control of the room. “We did not come in here to talk about the teachings in the schools. That is another fight and it isn’t ours. Continue, John. Finish answering the question.”

“Growing up, I was told one side of the situation and I believed it. I didn’t know any better. When that is all you know, it’s impossible to believe otherwise. When I was told an alternative, I contemplated for a long time about how this correlated with the world that I knew and I realized there was something more than I’d been told previously. Does this make everyone that told me this former things wrong? No. It makes them uneducated on the reality.”

“Very good,” Sullivan murmured. “And do you think it’s possible to change the minds of all those people who think as you did once?”

“Certainly. But it can’t be done as a group. If they are to be won over, we must find each person where they are and convince them as their heart would.”

There was another set of outcries as each partner either responded positively or took to calling him names. Johnny didn’t mind either. He knew in his heart he was right. It was up to the hands of time to convince the rest of them.

Sullivan turned to Gormando as if receiving instruction on how to proceed next but neither man said anything. When Sullivan turned back to the group, his face was haggard.

“We don’t have the time to convince them a person at a time. Rushton, sit down. There isn’t time to do this correctly so I’ll ask that you sit quietly until the time comes that I call on you again. Good man. Now,” he stood and addressed the gathering, “we’ve long known that it would happen but news has reached our offices just this morning that fighting has broken out in Ballawah.”

There was no outcry at this. Everyone was still as if his words had turned them all into stone. Johnny felt as if he’d forgotten everything, including how to breath, as he’d heard this information. There was only fear. And anger. Lots of anger.

“This can only mean war. A war within our own borders. The Southern Tribes have been struggling for some time against the what they see as a dictatorial state telling them how to run their lives. Many no longer acknowledge the King.”

But how is that possible? How can they simply decide not to live with his rule? Johnny wondered. He didn’t feel that he was a stupid person but he couldn’t make heads nor tails of such a thing. A war.

The person next to him nudged his arm and he looked up in alarm. Gormando was staring at him as if he’d just asked an important question.

“I’m sorry,” he said truthfully. “I was thinking about what you said. It’s so much to take in all at once.”

“Tell me about it,” someone nearby muttered.

“Will you stand with us, John Rushton? Even against those of you in your acquaintance that might think this folly? Will you follow your King into battle?”

Johnny thought hard on this for a moment but he could think of no reason to turn. “Yes. Of course. I will do as my King bids.”

There was a ripple of approval, which Johnny accepted as his only reward for the decision. What confused him was the discord he still felt in the room. Were there still those here that weren’t as accepting of the call to arms? Even in this room?

“You all know your roles and duties. Go. Bring me back information.” Sullivan dismissed the group but indicated to Johnny that he was to stay in his chair. After everyone was gone but Sullivan and Patric, his direct contact, Johnny got up from his chair at the opposite side of the table and took one nearer to the two men.

“Could you feel it?” Patric asked, his thin face devoid of emotion even though it was more than obvious that he was irritated. “There is still a contention of those that disagree with the decision.”

“And who would fault them. This is a huge step that the man made by himself. Why he doesn’t bother consulting anyone, I will never understand. He has a cabinet to help him but he steadfastly refuses to gather their opinions.”

“What of the Princes? Will they be called into service?”

Sullivan was grave as he ran his hands over his face. “Not unless they want to serve. They’re as prepared as we can make them if they choose that option.”

“But will they? Do we know how they feel about this?”

“As well as we can, Patric. I’m not a mind reader. Unless you feel comfortable walking up to them and asking them point blank how they feel than there is little I can say on the subject.”

Patric’s cheeks went red. “They are my watch. I want to be prepared.”

“And what of my assignment?” Johnny asked tentatively. He wanted to get started with this new commission right away, while the anger and fear still stirred up his blood. It would make it easier to wrap himself in this new world, immersing himself so deep that very little of his old self remained to give him grief.

“You will be joining the 41st. It is an Royal Regiment. Patric will continue to be your contact. As always, no one is to know who you’re working for or why you’re truly there. For now, I want you to get close to the men and see what their true feelings are. If this goes the way I think it will, you’ll figure out the next step on your own.”

Johnny nodded. Funny that he thought he would be reprimanded as he walked into this room. Now he was going to walk out of this room the same person but very different. Very different, indeed.