Jean Johnson - The Flame

"Morganen! Thank goodness you're here!"

Darting forward, the green-clad incipient Queen grabbed Morganen by the hand, dragging him away from his twin. Saber was with her, and as soon as he saw she had hold of his youngest brother, he turned and started forging a path for them. Koranen and Danau hurried to follow them, not wanting to get lost or stuck in the crowd gathered in the foyer. The opulently dressed crowd. Compared to his rumpled velvets and her plain blue leathers, both standing out in the mixture of brightly dyed styles, most had opted to wear finespun linens and cottons, though a few daring souls wore silk, their faces flushed with heat.

It was hot, despite the visible presence of fluted stone arches, the same sort of smooth, seamless arches that both supported and cooled all of the other buildings around the city. Then again, anyone who was important on Nightfall Isleor who wanted to think of themselves as someone importanthad bought tickets to this first performance. The babble of Katani, Natallian, and even a few voices raised in Gucheran made Kor's ears twitch repeatedly, as Ultra Tongue tried to catch up with the constant influx of languages.

It was with a relief visible on all their faces that they managed to make their way up one of the two sets of steps flanking the entrance, across the upper balcony of the foyer, and into a large, private seating area centered on the upper level of the concert hall. Danau recognized Wolfer and Alys, though there was another man present, one with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes, whom she didn't know. Even though the lightglobe sconces spaced around the edges of the balcony cast more light into the center of the room than into the private boxes, she could see how he looked like Wolfer, Saber, and Koranen, so she guessed him to be the missing thirdborn sibling, Dominor.

But there wasn't a chance for introductions. Kelly pulled Morg straight over to one of the other women in the seating booth, barely allowing time for the heavy blue curtain to fall into place behind Danau, affording them an illusion of privacy, though the open air over the balcony and the murmur of hundreds of voices reminded them they were definitely not private at the moment.

The others shifted position, revealing which sister-in-law. Who that was shocked both Kor and Danau. It was Amara, tied by magical bonds to one of the padded, carved chairs arranged across the shallow tiers of the viewing box. It was alarming to see her bound like a criminal, but worse she was smiling. Politely, pleasantly, congenially, and quite friendly looking, despite her incarceration.

She had dressed in a sleeveless, black variation of a Natallian gown in some sort of supple cotton, slit up the sides to mid-thigh to reveal legs encased in pale golden hose, matching the pale golden sash tied around her waist, and the pale golden ribbons threaded through her long black braid. Danau, envious of the woman's immaculate appearance, thought the Mayor looked quite lovely in black and gold.

But it was the glittering, mantle-like mass draped over her shoulders and breasts, hanging almost to her waist, that caught and held the Aquamancer's eye. Row after row after row of thumbnail-sized medallions had been linked together like scale armor, each one cast in gold and many of them set with colorful carved gemstones. Each row depicted a tiny animal shape, each one meant to represent one of the animal forms the shapeshifter could assume. Danau had never seen anything so intricate or expensive before. She'd heard of the pectoral, since it was a part of the salvage reports, and of course had been there when Amara had described it, but this was her first viewing of the piece.

"What's going on, here?" Morg asked, eyeing the bound yet obviously happy Mayor. "Why is Amara tied up?"

"That's what we want to know," Saber told him, gesturing at Amara. "She's not herself."

"Like Teretha was, only not quite like the baroness," Kelly added. "Teretha was manic. Amara is She's being nice."

"What's wrong with being nice?" Amara asked lightly, still smiling. "I like being nice! It feels good. I should do it more often."

Behind her stood her copper-haired husband, who looked like he was struggling with a dilemma. "She's been like this ever since she got dressed for the concert. Completely pleasant and agreeable. Not a single cross word out of her and acting very helpful. It's not a bad thing, and she isn't bad, even normally"

"But it's unnatural for her to be this pleasant for this long," Kelly finished for him. "One of the things I admire about herin a twisted wayis that she isn't afraid to tell me when she thinks I'm being an idiot."

"I'm very glad you admire me, Your Majesty but I apologize most sincerely if I hurt your feelings in the past," Amara added politely. "I shouldn't have done that. And there's nothing wrong with me. I feel perfectly fine!"

Trevan shook his head. "I have to agree. This is wrong. If my wife wants to be pleasant, that's one thingand she has been pleasant in the pastbut a complete personality change? No. There's something wrong with her. Something that happened while I was taking a rain-shower. I checked her over for potions and spells and didn't find anything, but I could have missed something. You're the best mage in the family, Morg. You look at her."

"I can't make any promises that I'll find something amiss, either," Morganen warned his fifthborn brother. "Just because I have a little more in the way of power and training doesn't guarantee anything."

"Just do what you can, Morg," Kelly urged him. "First the baroness goes mad, and now Amara. I don't know if these two things are connected, but they do spend a lot of time togetheris it possible for a mage to contract a spell like they would a common cold? Some sort of hex-virus?" she asked.

"Baroness Teretha didn't go mad. Nor was she magically ill. She was spell-controlled and and killed by her controller," Morg confessed, keeping his voice low in mindfulness of their semi-exposed location. Even the pleasant-looking Amara managed to look concerned by his words, though she didn't look nearly as shocked as the others. "If I hadn't been so busy with Hope's shipment

"I failed her, and I failed you," he added to Kelly, who had covered her mouth, eyes wide. "I'll see what I can do about Amara, but I also have to find Teretha's killer."

"Who killed her? And why?" Saber demanded. The curtain rustled, heralding the arrival of more family members. One of them was Mariel, the other her young son, Mikor. Trevan quickly stepped between the newcomers and his wife, shielding the sight of the glowing spell-shackles holding her wrists to the armrests of her chair.

The adults already in the royal booth fell awkwardly silent, until Alys cleared her throat. "Mikor, I think I saw a shaved-ice merchant down in the foyer, tucked under one of the stairs. But I can't remember which stairs it was. Would you like to come with me, and help me buy and carry some back for all of us to enjoy?"

"Sure! I saw her under the right-hand stairs, near the refreshing room the blue lady used!" the ten-year-old returned enthusiastically.

Checking himself before taking more than a step, Mikor faced his mother. "Mother may I?"

"Yes, you may. And the 'blue lady' is called Ama-ti," Mariel reminded her son. "Actually, I'd like a toska flavored ice, if the vendor has one. If not, then a cherry or a cinnin. Anyone else interested?"

The others quickly placed their orders, and within moments, the curly-haired woman and the curly-haired boy had vanished beyond the curtain. Her husband, the large, broad-shouldered Wolfer, followed the two of them out. As the curtain fell, Danau could see the secondborn brother settling into a patient stance just beyond its folds, suggesting that he intended to play curtain guard to ensure they had some privacy.