could tell by the way he ducked his head without responding that this was an old argument. Esau stared at me in silence, squinting and cocking his head from side to side as if deciding on something. His complexion resembled tea without the milk. Deep lines etched his forehead and fanned out from his eyes. He had a kind face used to laughing and crying.
“Now I want a report on what you’ve been doing all these years,” Esau said.
I suppressed a sigh. No more chances to avoid it. Used to obeying orders in the north, I told them about growing up in General Brazell’s orphanage in Military District 5. I glossed over the unpleasant years when I had reached maturity and become Reyad and Mogkan’s laboratory rat. My parents were distressed enough just hearing about their plans to use their kidnapped victims’ magical power to help Brazell overthrow the Commander; I saw no reason to tell them the brutal details of how they had erased the southern children’s minds.
When I mentioned becoming Commander Ambrose’s food taster, I failed to tell them that I had been in the Commander’s dungeon awaiting execution for killing Reyad. And after I had spent a year there, I had been given the choice of the noose or the poison taster’s position.
“I bet you were their best taster,” my father said.
“What a terrible thing to say,” Perl admonished. “What if she were poisoned?”
“We Lianas have a great sense of smell and taste. The girl’s here and safe, Perl. If she wasn’t good at detecting poisons, I doubt she would have lasted this long.”
“It’s not like someone was trying to poison the Commander all the time,” I said. “Only once, really.”
Perl’s hand flew to her neck. “Oh, my. I bet it was his pet assassin that tried to poison him. That loathsome creature.”
I stared at her uncomprehending.
“You know, his spy, Valek? Every Sitian would love to see that man’s head on a pike. He murdered almost the entire royal family. Only one nephew survived. Without Valek, that usurper would have never gained power and upset Sitia’s good relationship with Ixia. And those poor northern children who are born with magic. Slaughtered by Valek in their cribs!”
While she shuddered with revulsion, I gaped. My fingers sought the chain around my neck, and found the butterfly pendant Valek had carved for me. I squeezed it. Guess I wouldn’t be telling her about my relationship with him. And I decided not to enlighten her about the Commander’s policy on Ixians discovered with magical abilities. Not as gruesome as killing babies, but usually ending in death for the unfortunate man or woman. Valek had not been a fan of that policy, but he wouldn’t disobey an order from the Commander. Perhaps, in time, Valek would help the Commander see the benefits of having magicians on his staff.
“Valek isn’t as horrible as you think,” I said, trying to redeem his reputation. “He was instrumental in uncovering Brazell and Mogkan’s plans. In fact, he helped to stop them.” I wanted to add “he saved my life twice,” but the twin grimaces of loathing on my parents’ faces stopped me.
So much for my effort. He was the villain of Sitia, and it would take more than words to change his status. I couldn’t say I blamed my parents. When I had first met Valek, I feared his reputation, having no clue about the fierce loyalty, sense of fairness and willingness to sacrifice himself for others that lurked beneath his reputation.
I thanked fate when Nutty barged in with my backpack swinging from her hands.
Esau took it from her. “Thanks, Nut,” he said, tugging one of her ponytails.
“Welcome, Saw.” She punched him lightly in the stomach, and then danced out of reach as he swung to grab her. Sticking her tongue out at him, she skipped toward the door.
“Next time, Nut, I’m going to crack you.”
Her laugh echoed. “You can try.” And she was gone.
“Let me show you to your room,” Esau said to me.
As I turned to follow him, Perl said, “Yelena, wait. Tell me what happened to Brazell’s plans?”
“Thwarted. He’s in the Commander’s dungeon.”
“And Reyad and Mogkan?”
I took a breath. “Dead.” I waited for her to ask me who had killed them, and I wondered if I would tell her about my role in both of their deaths.
She nodded with satisfaction. “Good.”
Esau and Perl’s living quarters had two floors, and instead of a ladder or staircase to connect them, Esau used what he called a lift. I had never seen anything like it before. We stood in a closet-size room. Two thick ropes went through holes in the floor and ceiling. Esau pulled on one of the ropes, and the wooden room rose. I put my hand on the wall, but the motion was smooth. Eventually, we ascended to the second floor.
Esau poked his head back into the lift when I failed to follow him out. “Like it?” he asked.
“It’s great.”
“One of my designs. Pulleys are the key,” he explained. “You won’t find many in the Zaltana homestead. The others are slow to change, but I’ve sold a ton at the market.”
“Does Perl sell her perfumes at the market, as well?” I asked as I stepped onto the landing.
“Yep. Most of the Zaltanas either sell or exchange goods at the Illiais Market. It’s open all year. My inventions and Perl’s perfumes have provided us with a plentiful source of income.” Esau talked as we walked down the hallway. “A group of Zaltanas will make a trip to the market when enough items have been made or when a special order’s due. We aren’t the only ones who sell there either, so if we want something, we’ll go and buy. Unfortunately, not everything we need can be found in the jungle. Like your mother’s glass bottles and the hardware for my chairs.”
“You designed the rope furniture, too?”
“Yep. Except they’re not ropes. They’re lianas.” When understanding failed to brighten my face, he explained, “Vines from the jungle.”
“Oh.”
“The lianas are a constant source of trouble. Probably why they’re our family name.” Esau grinned. “They grow everywhere, and they can pull trees over. We have to keep them trimmed or cut them down. One day, instead of burning them, I took a bunch home and tried working with them.” Esau pulled back a cotton curtain that covered an entrance on the right side of the hallway. He gestured for me to precede him into a room.
“The vines become very strong when dried. While they’re pliable, they can be woven into almost anything.”
At first, I thought we had entered a storeroom. The air held a slight musty odor, and rows and rows of shelves holding glass containers of every size obscured the walls. The bottles were filled with various tinted substances. Only when I pulled my gaze away from the colorful collection did I see a small bed made from lianas and a wooden bureau.
Esau ducked his head. He ran a green-stained hand through his hair. “Sorry. I’ve been using this room to store my samples. But I cleaned off the bed and desk this morning.” He pointed to a Blackwood desk tucked into a corner.
“It’s fine,” I said, trying to mask my disappointment. I had been hoping that this room would help me remember something, anything of my life before Brazell’s orphanage.
Laying my backpack on the bed, I asked, “What other rooms are up here?”
“Our bedroom and my workroom. Come on, I’ll show you.”
We continued down the hall. There was another curtained doorway on the left, which led to a big bedroom. This room had a large bed with a purple flowered quilt, two end tables and shelves filled with books instead of containers.
Esau pointed to the ceiling, which was made of leather hides stretched over branches. “I coated it with oil so the