Young Writers Society

She was dreaming again.

The six sisters burst out of the ocean and started gliding towards the palace, quick as dolphins, leaping in and out of the water. Silira loved the huge palace and everything about it--bright yellow stone, white marble steps leading down into the water, a gilded cupola at its top on white marble pillars, which were interspersed with white statues of the same stone, high windows into grand rooms hung with silk curtains, blowing in the breeze, and paintings, one of the largest halls with a natural fountain in it spraying up to the cupola and watering the pretty plants that grew around it, big and beautiful and shining in the sunlight. They swam up the canal, also lined with white marble, and she hugged them all and thanked them. "You're so good to me, even when I'm crazy."

"You're not crazy," Nyrie laughed. "You're just madly in love."

Silira opened her eyes and was immediately startled by a loud chorus of gulls outside her window. She sat up in bed, untying the neck of her white nightgown and shoving off the thin summer blankets. She could hear Henry yelling outside, startling up the gulls, shouting, "Freeeeeeeedooooooooooom!" She rolled her eyes and did what was becoming routine.

Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, she braced for impact, and--

PAIN

LARGE PAIN

Ah...she could stand it now. Just enough to concentrate on her surroundings. The effects of the potion, as usual, kept her from crying out or even blinking. She brushed her hair, washed her face, reveled in the water's touch, brushed your teeth, threw the shredded toothbrush off the balcony in disgust, discovered that her balcony and Corwin's were next to each other, went through her sparse but beautiful wardrobe, found the trousers made for her only yesterday for riding, found a white blouse to go with them, soft tights to shield her feet, boots that didn't lessen the pain in your feet, braided her hair into three braids, then braided those together, put on a hat to shield her eyes from the brightness of the sun, and stopped in front of the mirror.

Silira knew she would be staying there forever. If Colin didn't turn out to love her, then the rest of her life (and she didn't know whether she would still live to be three hundred or not) would be very strange indeed. He did like her as a friend. That much was clear. But today, wearing what was known in fashionable circles as male attire though it really wasn't, with her lustrous hair braided back, looking like some bizarre creature that was half mermaid and half human, she doubted he would even notice her.

She turned painfully on her heel and went out. No breakfast in the palace today. They would eat on the road.

It was her first time riding a horse, but she had experience on the large seahorses back home. This was not much different. She forgot her worries about whether Corwin would notice her, looking up at the great mountain above the city. It was rush hour, with carriages, riders, and people on foot swarming around her and Corwin and their retinue of ten armed riders. Corwin turned his grey stallion to the right, tossing a vendor a coin and taking two of his breakfast sandwiches. He rode back to Silira and handed her one. She nodded her thanks and bit into the eggs and cheese and fried bread, looking back up at Mount Triumph.

She wanted to go there, straight to the top. She had no idea how the world might look from a high place. She had looked down at Twilight many times, from just below the surface, coming back from one of her endless forays along the coast, but this would be different. Her eyes got that intense look again, staring at the mountaintop, actually becoming a deeper blue and widening to their full extent, eyebrows lowered. She shouldn't have worried about Corwin not noticing her.

"Hey!"

A man Silira had seen before in the palace rode up, two guards accompanying him. "Milady, and Your Highness--"

"How does she rate?!" Corwin demanded of the nobleman. "What is it, Sir Dermott? A message from the palace?"

"Aye, Prince Corwin." The messenger appeared to pause for breath.

"Spit it out, man!" Corwin waved his right hand impatiently, using the other to hold his sandwich as he took a bite out of it.

"Aye, sir...Well, it seems that news of the boycott has gone to all countries. Our couriers made it all right; however, one was sent by mistake to Astrakhan, even to the very palace of the Kadif..." Silira tuned them out, listening to the gulls and the yelling of the ever-present children. Whatever it was, she would find out about it later. This was not the time for politics.

She, Corwin, and their entourage rode through the city to the beginning of the path, the sounds of a busy seaport fading behind them. The chief guard, one Captain Clay, turned his tall steed to face them. "Milady and Your Highness, you must ascend first. If anyone attacks, it will be from behind."

"In that case," Corwin said, swallowing his last bite of sandwich, "let Silent go first."

Silira smiled and nodded, thanking him again, and thought about her years of training in self-defense back home. She and her sisters could fight, yes, but she had never fought on land. Let the prince be a gentleman.

They made their way up the mountain. Branches covered in leaves and flowering vines brushed their shoulders, and birds sang in the distance. Silira reveled in not having to walk, not being distracted by the stabbing pain. She refused to look through the few gaps between the trees at the landscape below, seeing only brief splashes of bright blue sky and mountainous clouds before she looked away. She wanted to be completely surprised by the view from the top. Corwin, behind her, called, "Lady Silent, why aren't you looking down? If you're afraid of heights--" She shook her head. Even if she had been, this wouldn't be a very good time to admit it. Already they were close to the top. Perhaps another five minutes...

The narrow stone path turned from the forest to a rocky cleft. It was narrow, but wide enough for their convoy. Silira's eyes still had their intense look, and had had it all the way up the mountain. The sky overhead was the brightest blue she had ever seen. A bird swooped overhead, a falcon, screeching with the glory of the day.

Corwin was smiling behind her. "Silent, you may want to look at the ground until we reach the end of the path, which is when you'll get the most awesome view. And when I say awesome, I mean that it fills you with such awe that you can't speak. Or, maybe, in your case, it will be the other way around and you'll be able to speak. It's my favorite place, but I don't get many chances to come up here." And I'll get even less, he nearly added, now that Astrakhan...But he decided to keep quiet and not spoil her afternoon with politics. Her muscles were tense, he could see, and he was surprised by the fact that they were strong and lean, stronger than most. Who was this girl?

This girl, at the moment, was looking down at the path ahead of her with a surprising degree of intensity. As she led them out of the cleft, the path ended, stopped by a large boulder. Her horse stopped, because it wasn't so dumb as to walk over the edge of a cliff, and she took her hat off to widen her perspective and looked up, the wind flying through her hair.

She was actually startled by the view, nearly falling off her horse. Corwin rode up next to her, saying, "I know."

All of Sentrynyl spread out under her, ringed by roads running through a wide plain to the left and through rocky hills to the right, the mountain range stretching out behind her, birds flying below them on the spiraling thermals. Across the rocky hills, between two peaks, she saw a cathedral tower that she recognized instantly. It was the place she had left Corwin, thinking then that she'd left him for good. In it, and in every other church, all across the Continent, bells began to ring. It was noon, though obviously not everywhere.

But, beyond it all, there was the sea, ships riding up and down in the currents, their sails billowing in the strong wind. Silira could see her whole life laid out before her, land and sea, majestic and beautiful. Corwin was right. It was literally stunning.

Corwin tapped her on the shoulder, maybe half an hour later. It really had been that long. Neither they nor the guards had noticed the time passing. The clocks began to strike the half hour. She turned, shaking her head as if waking from a dream, and looked at him.

"You want to have some lunch?" he said, dismounting and spreading his cloak, which he hadn't needed, out on the ground. He projected his voice to the guards as well as Silira. "I think we're all starving."

The guards, leaving two of their number at the end of the path to defend against possible assassins, dismounted. Silira settled down on the blanket, sitting cross-legged next to Corwin and looking at her still-newish feet. There was laughter and joking while Corwin passed out sandwiches and the horses drank from a clear spring. For a fifteen-minute-long moment, it seemed as if they and their guards were of the same rank, all noble, none nobility. The business of empire was forgotten in the bright light and cheerful conversation.

Then Corwin spoiled it all. Don't hold it against him, because he really was sweet and had no idea what that day meant to Silira.

"Silent...may we speak alone?"

"No snogging," Captain Clay mumbled, swigging from a flask of something. "The Queen would not be pleased."

"Meaning you would be? And stop drinking on the job."

"This is very weak mead!" the captain yelled, trying to look scandalized. "I need it for medicinal purposes!"

Corwin ignored him and held out his hand to Silira. She let him help her up, bracing herself for the pain when she took her first ste--

PAIN

LARGE PAIN

She could stand it now, and walked away with him. He seemed resigned, but nervous. "Silent?"

She looked at him, meaning, "What?"

He looked at the ground, and then over the edge of the cliff. "Sir Dermott brought a message from my sister. Apparently, the couriers with news of the boycott reached every country. But that's the thing. Every country, including Astrakhan. The Kadif now knows of the boycott. However, I have to go to Astrakhan and talk to the Kadif. Apparently, that will help somehow and delay the war until I get married to...whoever...a year or three from now."

Silira looked at him incredulously, meaning that the Kadif was obviously bonkers and wouldn't listen.

He sighed. "Yes, I know, and the whole thing is a mess. He wants war now, unless we trade with him and pretend he's not an evil tyrant. We used to be friends, or as close as you get with the Kadif. They think I can talk to him, delay things, maybe make things better without a war. Silent, I don't know how we can pull this off, and I wish I didn't have to tell you this. You've been dragged into our politics--" She shook her head vehemently, meaning, "Of course not, and you've been nice to me in spite of the fact that you have to help your mother lead Eleschi."

Corwin sighed again. "Well, I have to leave. Tomorrow. At noon. And I'm really sorry for throwing our afternoon off a cliff, as it were." He laughed in spite of himself, and she smiled, trying to look reassuring. He looked back up at her. "You're not mad?"

She shook her head, getting that weird look again, half smile, half smirk, half, "Bwahaha, you have no idea who I am." He rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're so delightfully infuriating. Well, we can stay up here as long as we like, except that we have to be back by sunset. Which gives us about until four."

They stayed up there, watching the sky and the birds and the sea, having a conversation even though only one of them could speak. The guards placed bets on whether or not they would kiss (they didn't) and soon the clocks struck four, faintly echoing off the mountain.

Corwin clenched his teeth in anger and accidentally bit his tongue. "Ow! Sorry, Silent. Our time is now over. He stood up, helped her up, and ran his hand through his black hair. "For what it's worth, you've been a good friend. The best. I know it sounds a bit strange because we've only known each other a few weeks, but somehow it feels as if I've known you for years." He turned to the guards. "Captain Clay, lead us home."

The sunset that night was darker than most, gray clouds covering all the sky but a streak of bright gold in the west, the exact color of Silira's hair. Streetlights were being lit all over Sentrynyl, and the beacon in the lighthouse burned bright. Fog stole in from the sea with a chilly wind from the west, over the darkening continent and to the sea on the other side. It was the last cold night of spring. The Golden Palace's windows reflected the gold at the horizon, gradually dimming. Silira's braid swung in the wind with the tavern signs and rigging of the ships in the harbor.

She shivered, looking back down the hill at the city, which they had now left, coming to the palace. You could see so much clearer here, even at night, than in Twilight. Corwin dismounted, would have helped her down except for the fact that she had already jumped down without wincing, and ran up the steps, blowing on his hands. She followed at a slower pace.

He banged on the doors, shouting. "Mary! Maud! Agnes! Marge! Tina!" He rubbed his ears to keep them warm as Silira came up, wishing she had a coat and rejoicing in the fact that she was wearing trousers instead of a skirt, which wouldn't have kept her as warm.

There were faint footsteps through the thick doors, of two people instead of one, and they swung open. Two maids were straining to keep the doors open against the strengthening wind. Corwin raised his right hand in greeting, pointing at them both, first the blond, then the brunette. "Tina! Marge!"

"Marge," the blonde said as Silira came in.

"Tina," the brunette said as Colin came in. The doors slammed shut behind them. Henry ran up, bouncing up and down with excitement. "Silent! Silent! You went up the mountain! Agnes said so! Wasn't it good? I've only been up there twice, but it was so awesome! Just like Corwin says! Didn't you tell her, Corwin?"

Corwin smiled at Henry's exuberance. "Yes. And I also told her about a message that I received from Sir Dermott when she wasn't listening. I have to go to Astrakhan at noon tomorrow to talk to the Kadif about the...general situation."

Henry's face fell. "What?!"

"I'm afraid it's true," Corwin said, taking off his coat and handing it to Marge. "I should be back in about three months. Feed my fish."

Henry looked at Silira to try to see what she thought of it, but she was inscrutable. He rolled his eyes. "Well, that's just wonderful. One heated discussion, and this is what we get."

"And millions of slaves waiting around in Astrakhan." Colin barred the doors. "And that's just in the capital city. Impressive, no? I vote we go eat."

"Seconded." Henry pushed back his dark hair in annoyance. Silira raised her hand, thirding the vote, as they went in to supper. She glanced out a high window, wishing the weather was better so she could check in with her sisters. She kept seeing faint glints of mermaid scales in the sea not far off, and suspected that it wasn't just their Coast Guard, but her sisters, waiting and watching in case she was in trouble. She supposed they would know she couldn't make it out that night, not in this gale. She knew the weather well enough to know it wouldn't storm, at least not like the night she had saved Corwin and like the night she had given up her tongue and tail and ability to move around without pain...She rolled her eyes. She might as well stop griping. She had a life on land, nice clothes, adventures waiting to happen, the chance of a soul, and Corwin. No, wait, she didn't even have him, not for the whole summer.

Vomit.