Shadows by E. C. Blake

as a boyfriend. You even got in a fight over me. But did either of you ever think to ask me if I was interested in either one of you?” And with that she jumped up and stomped away through the snow, half-surprised it didn’t sizzle away from the heat of her anger.
    The trouble is
, she thought grumpily a few minutes later as she lifted the branch-covered trapdoor that opened into the corridor leading to her workshop,
that I
don’t
know I can trust Chell. I just
want
to.
    And there it was. It made no sense, none at all. He was just a young man. A very handsome young man, but just a young man.
    Yes, that’s right
, she thought.
A young
man.
Not a
boy
like Hyram or Keltan . . .
    She shook her head sharply.
And there you go again. What’s gotten into you?
    She went into her workshop and closed the door firmly behind her. Her kiln was cold, her tools untouched for days; she saw no point in wasting clay on yet another Mask that would surely fail the same as all the others.
Father can help
, she thought, for the hundredth time.
But will he?
    She had dictated her message to Edrik, sitting at his table in the Grand Chamber the night after her meeting with Catilla, choosing her words carefully in case they went awry. “Father,” it began. “I cannot do what I have been asked to do without your help. May we meet? Send word by this messenger.” Then, on impulse, she had added, “I am well. I love you both.”
    Edrik had written down what she’d said without comment. The message had gone out the next day. How it was being conveyed, and at what risk to the messengers, no one told her. There had not yet been time for a reply; they could not start for the city until there was.
    Mara went to the window slit and looked down into the cove. Chell now stood a few feet away from the boat, talking to Edrik. As she watched, he threw back his head and laughed.
He’s not evil
, she thought.
He can’t be. He must be telling the truth. It all makes sense . . .
    Hyram and Keltan, of course, had only heard his tale as it had been passed on by Edrik.
She
had heard it from Chell himself, on the night after her meeting with Catilla.
    First, though, she had heard from Edrik. Once she had dictated the message, she had stood up, intending to rejoin her friends at their usual table far down the Chamber, but Edrik had indicated she should stay, and she’d sat down again, though not very comfortably, wondering what he had to say to her.
    â€œThe Commander has asked me to explain to you why we are allowing Chell to accompany you to Tamita,” he said, in a tone she thought implied he would much have preferred to keep her in the dark.
    â€œIt surprised me,” she admitted. “I didn’t think you’d trust him.”
Catilla certainly didn’t trust
me
when
I
first arrived
, she thought with more than a trace of bitterness.
    â€œHis story rings true to us.”
    And mine didn’t?
she thought. “
What
story?” she said out loud.
    Edrik flicked his hand as though shooing a fly. “That’s not important. I’ll let him tell it, if he chooses to. All you need to know is that he will be coming with you, but he will
not
be entering Tamita.” He leaned forward. “And you also need to know this. You are
not
to tell him you have the Gift. He knows that magic exists in Aygrima, but he does not know that
we
have anyone with the Gift, about you and Ethelda. He does not know you are attempting to make Masks for us. All he knows is that you must speak to your father in aid of our cause. He does not know who your father is.”
    Why the secrecy?
Mara wondered, but, “All right,” she said out loud. “But you know how hard it is to keep a secret in the Secret City. Are you sure no one else has told him?”
    Edrik flicked his hand a second time. “We are not fools. He is guarded at all times, and no one is permitted to speak to him