“That’s horrid. They’re pacifists.” Becka’s heart ached for the people of House Apple. She’d played down by the river with children from their house when she was young, remembering them as an easygoing and kind house. Angst and rage gripped her ribcage, making drawing her next breath painful. The humans couldn’t have picked a less aggressive house to attack. “Were the humans found and punished?”
Sorrow filled Cedric’s features. “Oh, certainly. They were caught by enforcers soon after the attack and jailed for a year. Some of the stolen artifacts were recovered, but even those were damaged.”
“That’s nowhere near adequate,” Becka replied. “But having lived in the city, I’ve seen how normalized aggression towards the fae is. It’s as if some humans think the Great War never ended.”
As much as she’d liked her freedom in the city, Becka couldn’t deny that most days she’d felt measurably safer here in fae territory. Like she had a chance against the threat of the Shadow-Dwellers. At least, that’s how she’d felt before the poisoning.
“As you say,” Cedric replied. “All houses within the fae territories have taken this as a warning. It’s why we keep such a large contingent of our own trained guards and no longer rely on the enforcers, who are stationed within the cities. We must police our property and protect it from threats rather than waiting for help to arrive from afar. As House Rowan is the largest of the four houses within our territory, we oversee and coordinate activities for the protection of all.”
So it wasn’t just Becka’s imagination. There were indeed more guards than she’d remembered in her youth.
“What do you do with trespassers?” Becka asked.
Cedric shook his head. “We use reasonable force to catch them and then lock them in a holding cell. The enforcers are quick to pick them up, which doesn’t usually take long. But we do not expect the culprits to get punished for their crimes. All we can do is remove them and hope they do not come back.”
“Let’s refocus on the tasks before us today.” Astrid thunked a heavy tome down upon the table and opened it, the spine cracking with age. “We have another youth whose illusionist skills have been unremarkable. Her name is Iona, daughter of Tove.”
“I know the girl,” Maura replied. “Are you certain her gift won’t progress further?”
Hearing Iona referred to so dispassionately hit a little too close to home for Becka. Was it just Maura’s way of managing bad news, or did she not care for the girl if she wasn’t gifted?
“She’s been steady for the past year, and if something changes we can always reassess, but she’s nearing the age of civic duty.”
Everyone nodded, and Becka assumed this was a familiar conversation. She knew gifts came in the full range from none, to not much, to ‘oh my goodness put a lid on it’. Having once been declared ungifted, Becka would have given anything to have had just a whisper of power versus being an outcast. However, she doubted young Iona felt grateful for her diminished gift.
“What civic act can she perform, considering her depth of talent?” asked Elder Eirian.
Once their guild training had completed, all fae were required to perform three years of community service in the cities as an act of subservience and acceptance of human rule. Becka knew some students had passed and become guilded with just barely a passing grade, and yet they were still expected to serve in whatever capacity they were able. What wasn’t discussed was the additional human prejudice they’d be subjected to in the cities for being low performers. Becka had seen for herself how humans considered fae useless if they didn’t have gifts to be used for their greater, or personal, good.
“Well, the arts and beautification district won’t want her. They’ve requested only the most skilled of artisans,” Astrid replied.
“A better question is, what serves House Rowan best?” said Calder.
Becka’s emotional feathers ruffled again, not just at the perfunctory nature of the conversation but at Calder’s profit-focused question. Were they always this callous?
“May I suggest we send Iona to serve with the transport and infrastructure sector?” said Cedric with a sly smile on his face.
“What would that gain us?” asked Becka. “And what would it gain Iona?”
Cedric held up a single finger. “Iona would learn the current patching and repair techniques used on roads, bridges, and other projects. The Civic Board has a call out to House Oak for earth elementalists who can move and repair large objects, but I would guess they need help to visually improve where repairs have occurred. From a distance, slight imperfections within an illusion wouldn’t be as noticeable. Iona is skilled enough to perform that level of illusion, and she’s clever enough to take detailed notes on how they are repairing their infrastructure and what types of weaknesses are surfacing within the city’s systems. What think you, Astrid? Would she be up to it?”
Becka’s internal radar pinged. Lord Cedric was suggesting espionage!
Astrid wobbled her head from side to side. “Iona has sufficient skill to blend colors and hide repairs, which would save the humans time and materials, and the magic will last for the life of the structure. Plus, she has a quick wit to learn more than they might guess. It’s a fair suggestion.”
“I’d like you to discuss this with both Tove and Iona,” said Maura. “I want to make sure they are receptive. You’re right, Eirian, this could be a good opportunity. Even though Iona’s skills aren’t great, this gives her an opportunity to contribute to the house as she is able.” She turned to Becka. “What are your thoughts, daughter?”
Becka tapped a gloved finger against her nose, debating with herself. How direct should she be with her concerns? Maura raised a brow, and Becka pushed forward. Subtlety had never been her strong suit.
“Let me make sure I’m understanding the potential. It makes sense for Iona to serve her allotted time with the Civic
