Master, within you lies a great power. Please, seek your ambition. Do not waste away.

Orenda stood on the platform and paid no mind to the lava that flowed below her. Her entire mind was before her, on the flame that burned on the platform, on the staff within. She would walk through fire for it, because she was a princess, and this was something that she must do to claim her title.

Master, come for me. The world must recognize who you are, what you are.

In a dream, things make sense, even when they do not, and Orenda did not know that she was dreaming, so she knew exactly what the staff was talking about. She reached into the fire, and it did not burn her. It did not seem strange that she had thought it could burn her.

But then she was awake, and she had no idea what the staff had meant, and she knew she could not burn.

She was lying on her bed in the tower, and the sun was out. She had been injured, but she felt no pain. She wondered how such a thing could happen, so rolled down her blankets, then pulled up her nightdress, and looked at the bandages that lined her body. She tried to stand, thinking that perhaps it would be difficult, but it was not.

She walked to the window and stared out at the city stretching below her, thinking of Tolith, of the short life he had lived. She had always known that he didn’t have the constitution to travel, had told him as much, but she knew from his letters that he wanted to get away from his mother, and she knew from his past that he had always wanted to get away from himself.

Orenda thought that she may kill Shelly, if she ever saw her again. She had come close to killing her, and everyone else, when she had dared to attack her. She had nearly set the whole room ablaze. It would have been nothing to do. She could have burned them all alive, watched as they choked on the smoke from the burning plants. She wondered if that would have released the poison.

She was unbearably thirsty and made her way downstairs to find Felaern and force him to get her something to drink. She wasn’t going to ring for a human herself, and she thought that, if she needed to, she could probably make it down to the kitchen. She was amazed by how little pain she was in.

“Felaern!” She called as she exited the stairs and emerged into the dining room, “Are you here?”

“Orenda?” He called back, “I’m in my office!” But he wasn’t, because he was running toward her, and she heard the opening and closing of doors as he made his way into the living room and threw the sliding doors to the dining room apart. “How are you feeling? Are you alright?”

“I’m thirsty,” She said.

“Of course!” he said, and he was gone.

Orenda walked into the living room and sat heavily on a chair there, waiting for his return. When he came back, he was clutching a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“I had meant water,” Orenda said.

“You may have a weak constitution,” Quiroris told her, “The water may not be clean enough. Oh, Orenda, I’m so sorry. I think it may comfort you to know that Shalendra’s family have decided it may do her well to recover at home, from the shock of it all, and the heartbreak.”

“I’m not particularly interested by her recovery,” Orenda said as she took the glass he handed her and sipped. “Did she try to kill me?”

“Perhaps,” Quiroris admitted, “I would never accuse it, but… it could have been fatal. I was… concerned. But Dr Vibila worked tirelessly. She extracted the poison from your blood and got you patched up, then filled with healing potions. I don’t think you’ll scar much, perhaps not at all. It’s… strange. Thesis must have blessed you.”

“Why is that strange?” Orenda asked.

“Because you’re a fire elf. I mean, were you an earth elf you probably could have absorbed some of it, but… she..” his shoulders slumped, “Yes. She meant to kill you, Orenda. That should have been a lethal dose. I must admit that I can’t understand how you aren’t dead. There was so much of it in your blood.” He looked down at his own glass. “It never occured to me that she would lash out like that. I imagine she had forgotten your elemental difference. It wouldn’t have killed an earth elf, you see, so… I believe she was only trying to defend herself.”

“She’s never cared much for me,” Orenda said. “I think that perhaps I should go back to bed. I only awoke because of a terrible thirst.”

“Take the bottle with you,” Quiroris stood, “Do you need help walking up those stairs?”

“No,” Orenda shook her head, “I’m stronger than that, I believe. It takes more than a grieving girl to take me out. You do realize, Felaern, that I was holding back?”

“Yes,” Felaern said, “So was I. I came… very close to making a mistake.”

Orenda did not know what he meant by that, but she nodded and headed back to her room.

“Orenda,” Bubbider said, and Orenda turned to see her standing in the doorway, “I’m here to change the bedding. The headmaster is concerned that you may get an infection.”

“I’m healed,” Orenda said, “It’s strange. Shelly absolutely lost her mind, didn’t she? Why are you the one changing my sheets? What happened to Jen?”

“I’ve taken over her duties. I got it approved by the headmaster. Her child vexes her and we think it may be any day now.” Bubbider explained as Orenda got up to help her strip the bed. After a few seconds she continued, “I spoke to Ali. He says that her son’s death has caused Lady Glenlen as much distress as one would expect. She’s also really losing her mind. She’s lashing out, as well. But, strangely, he says that he finally saw… well, perhaps he should tell you himself. But I think he’s finally confirmed the djinn theory.”

“No, tell me now! I don’t know when I’ll be able to speak to him again,” Orenda demanded.

“Orenda, you’re nearly twenty,” Bubbider chided, “you’re in your last year. Don’t make demands like a petulant child.”

“I’ve been injured,” Orenda reminded her, “I have a right to be a little bitchy.”

“He says that he finally saw her speak to it,” Bubbider explained, “She has them stand or sit sometimes, by walls or whathave you, as decoration, for flavor, and he’s been there long enough that he can blend into the scenery like that when he needs to. He knows where it’s being kept.”

“He’s found the djinn?” Orenda asked.

“It’s under lock and key, and likely magical wards as well, but he knows where it is,” Bubbider explained, “She was berating it. Apparently, it had, at one time, promised her that her son would always be safe. But now he is dead. She was in a rage, as is understandable, but she wasn’t shrieking into the air, it was directed to a bedside cabinet that he is well acquainted with. He doesn’t have a plan to get in there; it’s right by where she sleeps and apparently that’s always heavily guarded.”

“Ali said that the djinn was in love with the white rabbit,” Orenda said, “And Tolith was found decapitated.”

“I thought the same thing,” Bubbider said, “It’s his signature move.”

Orenda nodded and helped her tuck the new sheet onto the bed.

“Where am I to go, Bubbider?” Orenda asked after a few long minutes of silence.

“What do you mean?” Bubbider asked.

“After graduation,” Orenda clarified, “where am I to go? I’ll be a scholar; it’s what you all wanted. I’ve no idea where I’m supposed to go next.”

“I’ve been trying to get leads, Rendy,” Bubbider promised, “I still don’t know anything.”

“We haven’t much time,” Orenda argued, “I need to know where I’m meant to be, before Quiroris sends me off to the wastelands!”

“I’m trying, Rendy. You know I can’t promise anything, in good conscience. I don’t know everything, myself.”

“It may not matter,” Orenda said, “If Ali gets the djinn, that may be the end of it, and we won’t have to hide anymore.”

“It would do no good to pin all our hopes on a foolish man who could not find a cabinet in nearly a decade, and who has not been as trustworthy as he once was,” Bubbider cautioned.

“What do you mean?” Orenda asked.

“We both know he’s been damaged, Rendy,” Bubbider said sadly, “He’s a shadow of the boy he once was. I don’t know how much of what he says anymore is true.”

Orenda had never thought to doubt Ali until Bubbider had planted the seed, but she knew in her heart that she was right. Whatever he had been through, it had driven him to madness, and some days he found it more difficult to hold his sanity than others. There could be no djinn at all. It could all be in his mind. He could very well be hearing voices. She felt foolish for not seeing this fact, which was obvious once it had been pointed out, sooner.

“You’re right,” She said, “please try to find me another position.”

“Of course,” Bubbider promised, “I am trying, Rendy. You’ve done well here. We know who our targets are now.”

Orenda was not going to ask her next question. She had promised herself that she would never ask it outright, that she would rather go to her grave without knowing. But it spilled from her lips before she could stop it.

“Did we kill him?”

Bubbider stopped in the doorway and looked over her shoulder, “I don’t know, Orenda. But he did not follow the path of order.”