Arrival by Charlotte McConaghy

brought the laugh to her lips before she could hold it back. Steven looked confused for a moment, and then he sat down heavily. Ria was briefly regretful at having to do this to him—in all fairness he was good, and she hoped she wasn’t going to be ruining his career. She had also liked him when he hadn’t been talking about music. But, after all, fifty silver pieces was a lot of money.
    So Ria—who the Luglians thought to be Ceridwen—pulled out her harp and made her way to the stool. Harps were very rare. They had been used in ancient times, and had long been out of fashion. But Ria loved hers. She was well known for her harp playing, and she knew it might be a give away, but she needed its help tonight. Its name was Collinia, and was treasured above all else, having been a gift from the prince after her first performance at the royal palace.
    She plucked a few strings and listened to the pure notes float up. Then she began. She started with only the harp to lead her in. Then she lifted her voice to sing a lament to the dead. Some might have said that a night like this, cheerful and happy, was not meant for such a deeply sorrowful song. But in the end, not one of the people listening complained for the lost joviality.
    Ria sang from deep in her heart about the plague that had swooped in and killed so many, leaving their loved ones with images of suffering as their last memories of those who were lost. Her voice floated pure with sorrow and beauty, and it seemed, as it always did, that she left her body then. She hadn’t sung this song in public before. It was her first composition and it touched every person there.
    When Ria del Torr finished her song, the tavern was frozen in an unnatural silence.
    They looked at her strangely, and there was awe in their faces as she took Collinia and walked back to her seat.
    Stevan stared at her for a moment, then said quietly, though it carried to everyone, “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Who are you?”
    There was another silence, as she thought about what her answer would be, but it was broken for her.
    “It seems you have been fooled,” a voice came from next to the door. The crowd parted slightly and Fern, Prince of Cynis Witron, walked slowly into the room to stand next to the stool. He was a full head taller than the tallest man there. The silence ended amidst urgent whispers, and everyone sank to the floor in obeisance. He waved them up quickly but continued to look at Ria. People strained to see him, their beloved prince.
    Ria sighed. He was going to ruin her cover.
    “How so, my lord?” asked Stevan hesitantly after a few minutes.
    The prince looked at Ria and grinned. Then, in a voice pitched to carry, he said, “The woman you now know as Ceridwen is actually my good friend Ria del Torr. I’m sure you’ve all heard of her, and if you knew this fact, you would never have made a bet with her.” The room was alive with wonderment—it had all fallen into place. Ria was almost as loved as the prince himself. And they were both here in this tavern in Luglio!
    Ria said tiredly, “I am sorry for the deceit. Keep your money, Stevan.” She stood to leave, but was frozen to the spot as the whole tavern cried out for her to stay. So she did, and the prince too. And Stevan gave her half the money. He apologised profusely, and admitted it was only because he really didn’t have fifty silver pieces.
    “Why did you do that?” she asked the prince irritably. He grinned widely.
    “Because you don’t need that money as much as he does,” Fern replied cheerfully. “And I love to see you fume.”
    She felt like flinging him an insult, but you didn’t do that to a prince, no matter how close you were to him. “What are you doing here?” Ria snapped instead.
    He shrugged and took a gulp of wine. “Enjoying the music, the atmosphere.” She narrowed her eyes and he sighed. “Ria, I think you need to go home. There is something happening. I am on my