Untalented (7 page)

In the middle of a five-sided plaza, cascading streams of water from a great fountain pearled in the sun’s last rays. Across the canal, long shadows draped themselves over manicured topiaries and marble fountains. The bigger the houses got, the smaller Saroya felt.

The canal poured into a basin at the foot of the castle. Saroya tilted her head and admired the walls glowing in the setting sun. Pennants fluttered in the sea breeze. She straightened in her saddle—wait, were they heading there? They couldn’t be heading there! Nalini stared back at Saroya, eyes as big as ten-weight coins.

“The road has nowhere else to go!” Saroya said.

Nalini agreed. “I expected a comfortable inn, before going to the guild, but U’Veyle Castle?”

Saroya looked down at her filthy travel clothes and shook her head. She looked exactly like someone’s poor country cousin. So much for making a good first impression.

The road arched over the basin and adjoining esplanade, where glossy varnished barques bobbed at moorings. From the esplanade, stairs rose up to the paving stones at the castle gate. Eiden Callor led the students through to the inner courtyard. Pennants bearing the royal crest hung from the walls. Stable boys came tearing out from some hidden nook to grab the horses’ bridles.
So this is what being important feels like
, Saroya thought.
Don’t get used to it.
Callor dismounted as a tall, thin man hurried across the cobbles to greet him. They spoke briefly then Callor turned to the gathered students.

“Master Guffin is the castle steward. He will show you to your quarters. Gather your bags. I leave you in his capable hands.” Callor spun and strode away. Strangely, Saroya felt abandoned.

Master Guffin clapped his hands. “Dismount, please. I’ll show you to your rooms.” Bags slung over their shoulders, the students followed, not without some trepidation, as he led them out of the courtyard and into the castle proper. Saroya let her gaze roam to take in the high-vaulted ceilings, fluted columns, and marble floors as one hallway gave way into a staircase and then another corridor. Each new revealed opulence elicited a new round of oohs and aahs from her compatriots. Overwhelmed, Saroya lost her bearings.

Master Guffin gave Nalini and Saroya a room halfway down a long hall. As the sound of his footsteps receded down the corridor, Saroya and Nalini could do nothing but stare at each other in disbelief at the luxurious surroundings. The chatter of excited voices drifted out to them from the other rooms.

Saroya tossed her saddlebags to the floor and pressed her hand into her bed. Her fingers disappeared as they sank into the down coverlet. She walked to the arched window and opened the shutters. The castle wall plunged straight into a canal. U’Veyle lay spread out before her, lights coming on in windows everywhere as twilight descended upon the city. The warm glow from each lantern or candle hinted at endless possibilities within the city walls. Saroya smiled to herself. She turned to see Nalini lighting their candle.

“Do you think they made a mistake, somehow?” Nalini seemed strained.

“A mistake?”

“Well, I don’t feel like I belong here, do you? I thought they’d take us to our guildhalls.”

Saroya shrugged. “Doyenne Ganarra said the king wanted to honor his wife’s memory. Maybe that means a speech or something. Do you suppose they’ll feed us?” Saroya rummaged in her bag for some hard tack she’d saved.

A maid bustled into the room, carrying an urn filled with almond milk, another with cider, and a tray of steaming food. Saroya wondered if the castle servants were mind readers. Nothing about this place would surprise her.

“You must be tired from your trip,” the maid said. “Master Guffin thought you might all prefer to have your dinners here in your rooms.”

Saroya grinned at her. “You mean he thought we might be a little scruffy for the king’s dining room.”

The maid smiled tightly. “If you wish to wash up, there are bathing rooms at the end of the hall. I can see to your laundry. Just leave it by the door.” She pointed to a reed basket.

Nalini spoke up. “How long will we be staying here?”

“A few days at most, I believe.” The maid dipped a curtsy and exited the room.

Saroya and Nalini ate while the noodles and mussels were still hot then emptied their saddlebags of dirty travel clothes. Afterwards, they wandered off to find a large tub of hot water. Clean, scrubbed skin felt fantastic after living with the grime of their journey.

Once back in their room, they both felt too excited to sleep. In the end, they succumbed in short order to the softness of the pillows.

In the morning, Saroya discovered a small leather folder with a note slid underneath their door. The note instructed them to explore the city during the day; they had free rein to wander in the castle as long as they stayed away from the private wings. They should be dressed and ready for a special dinner at sunset.

Saroya and Nalini pocketed fruit for snacks then hurried down the hallway, wasting no time. “Let’s go visit the market,” Saroya said.

“Isn’t that a little far?”

“Maybe, but the Healer’s Guild’s nearby.” And just like that, Saroya got her way.

They hiked up the main road all the way back to Market Square. At first, Saroya found the press of people claustrophobic, but she soon relaxed. The anonymity came as a welcome relief after all the finger-pointing she’d endured at the Cloister. At least she was tall enough to see over the crowds; Nalini had to crane her neck or jump up on tiptoes to spot sights Saroya pointed out.
 

A canal ringed Market Square. Barges nosed up to quays like piglets to a sow. Dockhands hurried to feed the wares aboard to impatient merchants. The stalls displayed a staggering wealth of goods. Hordes of hawkers peddled shoes, jewelry, and cured beef. Street urchins ran from merchant stall to merchant stall, shooed away by wary stall keepers. Purple silks and scarlet brocades draped here gave way to shiny blown glass over there. One shop devoted itself entirely to spices—what luxury! Since they had little coin to spend, she and Nalini soon took the northeast exit from the square, crossing two canals before they found themselves in a small plaza. The Healer’s Guild stood opposite.

Saroya nudged Nalini, who was taking in the pink stone facade and carved marble sigil with a rapt expression.

“We can go find the Builder’s Guild if you prefer,” Saroya teased, to mask her sudden stab of jealousy.

Nalini glared at her before grinning. “C’mon. Let’s get lost. I’ll be spending enough time here soon.”

They meandered through the maze of streets and canals, choosing directions at random. In one alley, the smell of the tanners made them gag, while around another corner, they discovered a weaver’s atelier with intricate tapestries hanging in the window. Saroya peered into one open door and saw row upon row of shelves stacked with tiles of every color—sky blue, lemon yellow, pink, green and brown. They’d stumbled across the workshop of the famous Eliati, renowned for his fabulous mosaics. An artisan cut each tile into the small pieces of glass known as
tesserati
, which when combined formed the mosaics. They watched one of his apprentices withdraw a new tile from the glowing hot oven.

“I could do that!” Saroya said to Nalini. Maybe there would be opportunities in U’Veyle after all.

One of the apprentices overheard. “Are you an artist?”

“No.”

“Then you can never hope to equal the Master. Off with you!”

It took several hours of wandering before they discerned a pattern to the labyrinth of streets. Two concentric canals ringed Market Square to allow the transport of goods. Most other canals sprang from the river and flowed towards the center of the island. Roads branched out like wheel spokes from the square, leading either off-island or more often to another square or plaza. Towards midafternoon, their feet aching, they rejoined the main road and returned to the castle.

Saroya and Nalini fretted about their lack of presentable clothes. They dug out their best skirts and tunics, but still felt frumpy and ill-prepared for a palace function. Saroya sighed as she stared at herself in the mirror.

“I guess this will have to do.”

Saroya reached out, her fingers melding with her reflection’s. The glass was cold. “I’ve never seen a mirror like this before—it looks like it’s made of glass. Do you think all the rooms have them?”

Nalini shrugged. “It’s certainly easier to braid hair than with my hand mirror.” She held up a polished silver oval, then tossed it on the bed and reached for her hairpins. Saroya helped her work her hair into a presentable coif. She found Nalini’s sleek black locks so much more elegant than her own, which threatened to degenerate into curly tangles if she left them alone too long.

“Nalini, why are you so nice to me still?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“You’re the only person who doesn’t treat me like a pariah. It didn’t make your life any easier on the trip.” Saroya tucked another pin into Nalini’s hair.

“The day you came back from your Testing, you were still the same Saroya.”

“But everybody hates Untalents.”

“Who, Martezha? The only thing she thinks about is the pecking order. The rest of them are just sheep, they’ll like or dislike anything Martezha tells them to.”

“So you don’t hate Untalents.”

“I don’t hate you. All that stuff about Untalents being thieves and liars—my mother says it’s rot. Just people being mean because they know Untalents can’t defend themselves. My parents taught me to respect the servants—it’s not like they can help their lot—and be grateful we had people to do that type of work. Your life is going to be hard enough as it is. You don’t need yet another person lording it over you all the time.”

“So I’m no better than a servant to you.” Saroya couldn’t keep the bitter sharpness from her voice.

“That’s not what I meant. You can’t help what happened at your Testing. That doesn’t mean I can’t still be your friend.”

Saroya still couldn’t shake the feeling that some part of Nalini looked down on her now.

They both turned at a knock at the door. A page entered and said, “Please follow me.” They joined a small stream of their peers from Adram Vale as they headed for the Great Hall. Conversation was muted. Everyone else must feel just as intimidated as Saroya did.

Groups of nobles turned to stare at them as they entered the reception hall. After a cursory examination of the new arrivals, the aristocrats resumed their discussions. Saroya tried not to gawk. The ceiling floated, seemingly unsupported, high above her head, a fresco depicting the defeat of the Ileggi at U’Jiam stretching from one end to another. Tapestries hung from the walls, their bright weaves adding color to the pallor of the stone floor. Gilded cups and intricate silverware adorned the tables.

A servant approached offering cups of wine. Saroya took one and sipped. It tasted less sweet than the fruit wines from Adram Vale. How many new flavors would she taste in the meal itself?

She looked around, unsure what to do with herself. The page left them without introductions to the assembled nobles. Could she feel
more
like an awkward student? Martezha had managed to worm her way into a knot of nobles, laughing at some anecdote about the ancient House of Batarak and a pig. What could Martezha possibly know about House Batarak?

A horn sounded and Master Guffin entered the Hall from a corridor at the far end. In a ringing voice, he announced, “All hail and welcome His Majesty, King Urdig, Protector of the Realm of Veyle and Defender of the Great Circle of Houses.”

Saroya watched and did her best imitation of the bow she observed the nobles performing as King Urdig strode into the hall. A slight lift of his hand released them from their obeisance. She blinked—she stood not twenty paces from the king—the king! For a moment she couldn’t breathe. What if it was all a dream? She expected him to seem different from commoners, but except for the crown encircling his head and the gilded embroidery on his clothes, he might have been a merchant or artisan. Was that a disloyal thought? He looked tired compared to his portraits and engravings. Then again, she would be tired too if she had recently buried a loved one. Urdig climbed onto a low dais and looked out over his assembled guests.