Allied Lands and she hadn’t been impressed. One of them had been incredibly soppy, to the point where she’d found herself wondering how anyone could stand the heroine, while the other had been a tale of a strong macho man who beat down a shrewish woman and convinced her to marry him. It hadn’t seemed to occur to the writer that there was something wrong with the hero’s actions...or, for that matter, that the heroine might have good reasons for being something of a bitch. And the less said about the sex scenes, the better. She’d read bad fan fiction that had included more realistic sex scenes.
She placed the papers back in her bag and looked at Lady Barb. “When I went to see the Grandmaster,” she said, “there was someone already there. Who was she?”
“I heard about that,” Lady Barb said. She thinned her lips. “Let us just say that Cabiria did something she shouldn’t have done, something no sensible magician would have done. And I hope you will never be stupid enough to do the same.”
Emily sighed, inwardly. She knew Lady Barb wouldn’t be drawn if she didn’t want to be drawn.
“If she doesn’t know what Cabiria did,” Frieda piped up, “how would she know to avoid it?”
“Common sense,” Lady Barb said, crossly. She looked back at Emily. “And you shouldn’t try to pry, young lady. People will be prying about you.”
“I get that anyway,” Emily said.
“Then don’t do it to someone else, if you don’t like it,” Lady Barb said. “What happened was enough to get Cabiria suspended for a whole year, so I suggest you leave it at that.”
They stopped, briefly, at an inn to find dinner and answer the call of nature, then resumed their journey up towards the mountains. Emily read a book she’d borrowed from Whitehall’s library, while Frieda, tired of her book, closed her eyes and went to sleep. Boredom didn’t sit well with her, Emily knew; she’d always been kept busy at home, then at Mountaintop. It had been all Emily could do to stop Frieda from acting as her servant.
And if we were allowed servants, she thought, Alassa would have had a small army crammed into her room .
She smiled at the thought, and returned to her book. It was complex and engrossing, so enthralling that she barely noticed when the coach came to a halt and Lady Barb peered outside. A moment later, she leaned back and tapped Emily on the knee, making her look up.
“I think you’ll want to see this,” Lady Barb said, as she opened the door. “Come and look.”
Emily put the book to one side — Lady Aliya would do something unspeakable to her if the book got damaged — and clambered out of the coach. The cold air struck her at once, making her hastily cast a warming charm as she peered into the distance. Cockatrice Castle rose in front of her, near Cockatrice City...surrounded by tents. Hundreds of tents. Emily recalled the last Faire, near Lady Barb’s house; surely, she asked herself, it hadn’t been as big as this.
“It’s huge,” she said, in disbelief. “How big is it?”
“At least three times the size of the last one,” Lady Barb said. “I’d say you should be expecting hundreds of thousands of visitors. They’re probably planning to set up a few portals in the city, or perhaps closer to the Faire itself.”
“I didn’t realize it was going to be so large,” Emily stammered. “It...it just grew.”
Lady Barb gave her a reproving look. “That’s what happens when you leave the matter in someone else’s hands,” she said. “I just hope Bryon had the sense to organize a roving patrol of Mediators. Holding the Faire this close to a proper city means there will be no keeping the magicians apart from the mundanes.”
Emily shivered. Lady Barb had told her more than a few horror stories about previous gatherings, back when she’d been a full-time Mediator. They always ended with drunk — and sometimes not so drunk — magicians playing tricks on helpless mundanes. Sorting
She placed the papers back in her bag and looked at Lady Barb. “When I went to see the Grandmaster,” she said, “there was someone already there. Who was she?”
“I heard about that,” Lady Barb said. She thinned her lips. “Let us just say that Cabiria did something she shouldn’t have done, something no sensible magician would have done. And I hope you will never be stupid enough to do the same.”
Emily sighed, inwardly. She knew Lady Barb wouldn’t be drawn if she didn’t want to be drawn.
“If she doesn’t know what Cabiria did,” Frieda piped up, “how would she know to avoid it?”
“Common sense,” Lady Barb said, crossly. She looked back at Emily. “And you shouldn’t try to pry, young lady. People will be prying about you.”
“I get that anyway,” Emily said.
“Then don’t do it to someone else, if you don’t like it,” Lady Barb said. “What happened was enough to get Cabiria suspended for a whole year, so I suggest you leave it at that.”
They stopped, briefly, at an inn to find dinner and answer the call of nature, then resumed their journey up towards the mountains. Emily read a book she’d borrowed from Whitehall’s library, while Frieda, tired of her book, closed her eyes and went to sleep. Boredom didn’t sit well with her, Emily knew; she’d always been kept busy at home, then at Mountaintop. It had been all Emily could do to stop Frieda from acting as her servant.
And if we were allowed servants, she thought, Alassa would have had a small army crammed into her room .
She smiled at the thought, and returned to her book. It was complex and engrossing, so enthralling that she barely noticed when the coach came to a halt and Lady Barb peered outside. A moment later, she leaned back and tapped Emily on the knee, making her look up.
“I think you’ll want to see this,” Lady Barb said, as she opened the door. “Come and look.”
Emily put the book to one side — Lady Aliya would do something unspeakable to her if the book got damaged — and clambered out of the coach. The cold air struck her at once, making her hastily cast a warming charm as she peered into the distance. Cockatrice Castle rose in front of her, near Cockatrice City...surrounded by tents. Hundreds of tents. Emily recalled the last Faire, near Lady Barb’s house; surely, she asked herself, it hadn’t been as big as this.
“It’s huge,” she said, in disbelief. “How big is it?”
“At least three times the size of the last one,” Lady Barb said. “I’d say you should be expecting hundreds of thousands of visitors. They’re probably planning to set up a few portals in the city, or perhaps closer to the Faire itself.”
“I didn’t realize it was going to be so large,” Emily stammered. “It...it just grew.”
Lady Barb gave her a reproving look. “That’s what happens when you leave the matter in someone else’s hands,” she said. “I just hope Bryon had the sense to organize a roving patrol of Mediators. Holding the Faire this close to a proper city means there will be no keeping the magicians apart from the mundanes.”
Emily shivered. Lady Barb had told her more than a few horror stories about previous gatherings, back when she’d been a full-time Mediator. They always ended with drunk — and sometimes not so drunk — magicians playing tricks on helpless mundanes. Sorting
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