Sentille placed the young Mistress’s gowns onto the girl’s bed. She admired the lovely shades of A’nden House blue, and the pride in which her little girl would wear them. She had helped the child pick out the gowns herself, the rich, dark blue high-necked bodice embroidered in silver, the long, flowing sleeves, gathered in silver ruffles at the wrists, the beautifully decorated skirts with fans of silver lace scalloped around the hem. She would be the darling of the Emperor’s court.
A single tear escaped as Sentille placed the dainty silver slippers on the floor beneath the folds of fabric. She had enjoyed every year she spent as the girl’s maid. When Mistress Chalatta first arrived, right off the streets, wearing all that atrocious jewelry, boy’s trousers, a flannel shirt and worn boots, she had hidden her gasp of distress just in time. The girl was very perceptive, she realized at once, and would notice such stray thoughts. So she hid them while she ran her bath.
Mistress Chalatta stared at the foaming water in amazement. She had never soaked herself in a bath before! All the bottles of shampoo, conditioner, lotions, powders and oils completely confused her. Trained by her mother to be a lady’s maid, Sentille knew nothing about caring for a young girl who never expected these normal amenities. No more than a girl in her teens herself, she felt suddenly protective of the child under her care. Rather than embarrass the child by reading the purpose of each bottle and jar, she simply told her that the foam had been added to the water, and showed her the bottle that held it. She suggested that, if the girl were curious, she could read the ingredients and instructions for each one’s use herself.
Then she chastised herself, wondering if the Area girl could read that well, until with a flick of attention she found that her new charge read everything quite well.
Sentille was not Talented. Not a whit of energy had ever graced her abilities, save one. She could read even the most hidden thoughts. She kept that ability to herself, not even telling her mother what she possessed. Such a skill had helped her make good grades all through school, and, she realized, would help tremendously in serving such a Talented family.
Sentille was also a Null, another ability that never depended on Talent. She had heard of Nulls able to hide whole communities. Her field of energy hid only herself. During her time off, she often roamed the halls of the huge mansion, picking up thoughts as she explored corners.
When she discovered that Mistress Chalatta was also a Null, she nearly ruined everything by sharing that they held this one thing in common. But how would that serve the girl or her family? No, she needed to keep her two abilities close to her heart, she decided. That way, if something unforeseen happened, she might be able to act outside of expectations. Where, she wondered often, had such a caution originated?
As she thought about the question, she knew the answer. The Krindarwee, always reluctant to share their abilities with outsiders because of the damage invaders had done to their people, nearly screamed discretion. Well, it seemed to Sentille that if they screamed, she may as well listen.
As a result, she heard the old Krindarwee woman everyone called Grandmother speak to her charge, teaching her the ways of a healer. She stood amazed when she realized that the Krindarwee leader used mind speech to train her girl in the most intricate of surgeries, impressing into the child’s mind the feel of a knife as it cut into skin to remove a foreign object or a baby gone breech. To her further amazement, the little girl learned everything Mistress Zilla taught with ease, especially fascinating since Sentille understood so little of it.
This child, who looked to be no older than twelve, knew all about human and Nevian anatomy, human and Nevian diseases. Her young mind possessed a library full of cures and remedies. She should be a doctor. Instead…
Sentille shook the thought away. The young Mistress could also read stray thoughts, and now was not the time to distress the girl.
“You, there!”
The strange, sharp voice startled Sentille out of her reverie.
“What are these rags doing on Mistress Chalatta’s bed?”
The icy rage of the Empress left her speechless. This is what the young Mistress chose for tonight, she wanted to say, but nothing came out. Neither did she bow, so startled was she at the intrusion.
Two women in transparent tunics entered after her.
Transparent! Beautifully formed bodies moved within the cloth, which made it all the more embarrassing for Sentille. She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off the women as they stood just behind their mistress.
Empress Alrenn ba Tir waved one of them to the bed. “You will remove this Nevian over-abundance of fabric from this room and toss it into the nearest incinerator. She will never again be subjected to such nonsense.”
The second woman held a bundle in her arms. As soon as the first woman removed all the lovely clothing from the room, she spread an alternate set of clothing in its place.
“Who are you?” the Empress asked.
Remembering her manners, Sentille bowed low. “Sentille, Majesty.” She was afraid to raise her head and look into the Empress’ eyes, even after she straightened.
“I see you have more decorum than I first thought. You are wise to keep your eyes lowered. You have no place in my presence unless I allow it.”
Terrified, Sentille said nothing.
“And you please me with your silence, as if you already know not to speak until I request it. I believed the A’nden slaves to be the most disrespectful, disgraceful servants I have ever encountered until now. You may leave.”
Sentille bowed again, still keeping her eyes on the floor. I’m not a slave, she thought, knowing the folly in sharing such an opinion aloud. She encountered wave after wave of energy coming from both the slaves as well as the Empress. As she tried to decipher what she read from them, the Empress spoke again.
“But I expect you to return when it’s time for your charge to get ready for tonight’s festivities. You will provide the transition to her new slaves.” She gestured to the two in sheer tunics who remained motionless, their eyes also on the floor.
She bowed again, not knowing what else to do.
“Should she ask, you will explain that you have been assigned to her mother.”
Sentille considered bowing yet again, but with that statement, the Empress swept from the room, her two slaves right behind her.
Trembling, she realized the flood of energy coming from all three of them meant that even the slaves were Talented. What was happening? Tonight was supposed to be special, an honor for Mistress Chalatta, but these people were far from honorable. A dark evil seemed to permeate their use of the energies as well as their thoughts.
Afraid if she stood there much longer, she would collapse, she ran from the suite to her own room in the servants’ quarters, and locked herself in. She sat on the edge of her bed, too traumatized to even cry. What had happened? Why had that encounter upset her so?
She realized she was no longer happy for her charge. The word “transition” kept echoing in her head. It carried far more potency than it should. The Empress put an emphasis on the word that indicated a huge, enveloping transition, as if all of Sector Five were plunged into it.
She realized something else. The real purpose of the royal family’s arrival in this Sector was a lie. Oh, tonight’s events were true enough, but those only scratched the surface. The Emperor had chosen this Sector for a much darker purpose that not even Sentille could discern.
As she recalled the hidden thoughts that the Empress refused to share, Sentille knew that the whole family was in trouble, not just the young Mistress.
13
strange clothing