As the fanice panic outside, Terra, Eila, and the professor silently sit in their borrowed cottage. The sisters sit on the couch again while the professor sits at the desk, the lit candle from earlier still burning strong. After several minutes, their panicked screaming subsides, and there is true silence in the cabin. Aside from the occasional wing flapping sound outside, they are completely alone.
"Terra, why do you look so nervous?" the professor asks.
"Wh-what?" Is that even a real question? The fanice just lost their ruler, and her family is stuck in the middle.
"Step one of our plan is complete. The king would have been a massive nuisance. He probably would have kicked us out of the village, or worse. So, calm down. We're safe."
"How did you do it?" Eila asks, her eyes wide. "How did you defeat the evil fairy, Miss Faramund?"
The professor smiles and places a finger over her lips. "No good chef reveals her secrets. Just be happy he's out of the way."
Terra clenches her fists. Something about this doesn't feel right, but she can't articulate it. She recalls the fanice earlier today, rejoicing and restoring the land, and Gabriel telling her that story about the royals. Then, that image quickly shifts to him screaming, crying, being dragged away from the only family he had left.
Is she… sympathizing with them?
No, that can't be it. The fanice destroyed the world as they knew it, and innocent people are in danger. The professor has a plan to save them, and following that plan should be their top priority.
The plan, she realizes. She glares at the professor. That's it. She's not angry because the professor killed the king. She's angry that she didn't know about it. "Why can't you tell us?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Why can't you tell us how you did it? Didn't you say you would tell us everything?"
The professor's face falls, and the candlelight flickers. "What is this about? Are you having second thoughts, Terra?"
Eila looks up at her, suspicion in her gaze.
"No!" Terra shouts. "Are you kidding me? Of course not. I just want to know why you didn't mention that you were going to kill the king of the fanice, I don't know, before you sent me off alone to distract the prince. I was in shock when I saw that scene."
Professor Faramund frowns but then sighs. "I understand why you may feel that way. The answer is simple. I couldn't let anything stop him from being assassinated. You've already had trouble keeping it together. I'm sure you would have been much worse under that kind of pressure, increasing our chances of getting caught."
At that, Terra's rage boils over. "Excuse me? You're the one who said I was the best one for the job. Now you're withholding information because I'm not doing well enough? That doesn't make any sense. What else are you keeping from us? I want to know the full plan right now!"
"Stop it, Terra!" Eila shouts. "Don't get mad at Miss Faramund. She's only protecting us. I didn't know either, and I'm not mad at her. Why can't you trust her?"
Terra glares at Eila, and the little girl's eyes fill with fear. Somehow, that reaction calms her down. She doesn't want to scare her sister. Enough must be going through her head already. Besides, some of what the professor said has some truth to it. Terra was almost caught twice today because she can't think straight under pressure. She has trouble meeting the fanices' eyes and is especially bad at maintaining her tone.
Professor Faramund stares at her for a moment, disappointment on her face. Then, after several seconds, she speaks. "Are you calming down?"
She nods softly.
"Good. We don't have much time. Pretty soon, they will be looking for someone to blame, and we've got to get our stories straight. You two have an easy job. Tell them what we did today. Show them you have an alibi."
Terra nods again, looking at the floor. The plan has worked so far, so maybe she should stop questioning it.
"So, we just tell them what happened as we saw it?" Eila asks.
"Yes, that's exactly it."
Her face lights up. "Okay! It's like story time! I'm good at telling stories."
"Sure, if you want to think of it that way," the professor says.
Knock Knock
Someone knocks on the door just as Professor Faramund finishes her sentence. The sudden noise makes Terra jump.
"Faramunds, open up!" It's Michaela, and she sounds furious. Terra sinks into her chair, wishing she could disappear.
"Just a moment," the professor responds. She whispers to the girls. "They're early. Remember, though: tell them what we did today. Be honest, up until the king's death." After that, she heads to the door and gently opens it. "What can we do for you?"
Michaela and two royal guards barge their way in, and they tower over the girls, their faces stone cold. "We're going to need you all to come with us. As you know, King Azrael has been killed."
Terra and Eila remain on the couch, holding hands, unable to hide their fear. Meanwhile, Professor Faramund is as stoic as ever. "And where are we going?"
"Down to the jail cells, where you will be questioned and, most likely, detained." The other guards grab ropes from their pockets, ready to tie them up.
They're going to jail? They haven't even been proven guilty yet. Does fanice law work differently from human? She squeezes Eila's hand.
"We will comply, but unless fanice law has changed since I left, you cannot detain us without just cause. That is, unless a royal approves of it."
Michaela scoffs. "The royals are all indisposed. That means the guard makes the final decisions. If you knew anything about fanice law, halfling, you'd know that too."
"But they are not indisposed. One is in hiding. That's it. We will go with you to questioning because we have nothing to hide, but should you not find anything, I humbly request you let us go or ask for the prince's approval."
"I have heard enough out of you!" Michaela shouts. "Guards, arrest them. You're the only people who could have done this, and I won't let you hurt anyone else."
The fanice guards forcefully pull the sisters off the couch, and Eila whimpers. "Don't hurt her! She's only a little girl." Terra shouts, but they don't listen. They force their arms behind their backs and tie them in place. Michaela does the same to the professor, who doesn't fight back. On the way out of the cottage, Professor Faramund looks back at them. Her expression says: Trust me.
At this rate, they have no choice but to go with the professor's plan.
The women are escorted into a tunnel underneath the village. It's about as narrow and dark as the house tunnel, the one Gabriel took them down mere hours ago. Terra's eyes open and shut as the fanice force them forward. It must be at least 1:00 am on the surface, but there's no way to tell without technology. Will this horrifying day ever end?
Eventually, the tunnel opens, revealing a slightly wider hallway with jail cells lining the walls. They're made of steel, which surprises Terra. She didn't realize the fanice knew how to work with metal.
They keep walking down the hall, and all the cells are empty. It's so quiet they can hear their footsteps. The more Terra learns about fanice society, the more confused she becomes. Do they have no criminals? The only way that could be possible is if they're saints, or they kill anyone who disobeys. Chills erupt down her spine.
Finally, at the end of the hall, they reach a square-shaped room with a table and four chairs: one close to the wall and three facing it, their backs to the entrance. The guards escorting the girls hang two lanterns on either side of the entrance, but it isn't nearly enough to illuminate the dreary space. So, Michaela walks toward the table, sits, and holds her left hand up. Light bursts from it and condenses into a ball. Then, it floats toward the ceiling, lighting the room like any modern fixture. She gestures towards the chairs on the other side of the table, and knowing they don't have another choice, the family sits down. The guards untie their hands.
Michaela leans forward in her chair, studying each of them. Her hands are clasped together, and eyes discerning with a hint of rage. The way she looks at them makes Terra uncomfortable, and she can't help but fidget. She glances around, noting that there aren't any exits except the one they came down, which now has two guards standing by it.
Then, Michaela meets Terra's eyes. "You. Describe what happened earlier today."
"When?" So much has happened; she's going to have to be more specific than that.
"I want you to recall every detail about today, from what you were doing before The Vanishing to when you met Gabriel and helped him with The Restoration. Don't leave anything out."
Terra takes a deep breath. She's being targeted. Michaela sees her as the weak link, and she's hoping she'll slip up. She's going to have to improve her acting fast if she's going to pull this off.
"Yes, of course. It all started when we went shopping."
…
Terra recalls the whole story, from when everyone vanished at the mall to now, in the interrogation room. She frames the incident at the mall as if she knew it was going to happen but adds a splash of ignorance to stay consistent with what she told Gabriel earlier. "Medical school was so hard; I couldn't finish in time. That's on me for bad planning, though." She goes on to describe the incident where they met Gabriel and explains how shocked she was to see him. A lot of that part is the truth, but she frames it as being surprised she was meeting the prince and not some creature she never knew existed. When Michaela asks why she looked so nervous coming into the village, she says, "I mean, come on, wouldn't you be? We've been hiding for so long, and I've never seen a fanice in real life. Also, considering what you've done to my mother…" She looks at Professor Faramund, and there's a hint of a smirk in her expression. She's proud of her performance.
Terra goes on to explain how they felt settling into the cottage and what she did when she joined Gabriel's group. This is the easy part. The prince was stuck to her like glue the whole time, and she didn't have a single moment alone.
Michaela frowns. "So, you did not leave the group? Not for any reason?"
"Well, I was tired when we reached the mountain peak, so I laid against a tree for a little while, but I was always within watching distance. You can ask Gabriel."
She crosses her arms and leans back. "I will be sure to do that."
For a few agonizing moments, the fanice looks each of them up and down again. She's looking for weakness, but the professor's expression is unreadable. Meanwhile, Eila seems to have calmed down considerably. The girl rocks back and forth in her seat as if she doesn't have a care in the world. She seems to have a song stuck in her head. There's a rhythm to her movements.
"Little one," Michaela says, her violet eyes narrowing. "What did you and your mother do today?"
Eila stops rocking and raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean, Miss Michaela? You were with us the whole time. You saw us."
"Can you describe it to me anyway? I have a poor memory, you see."
"Okay! You're lucky. I have a great memory. We left the messed-up house with the tunnel and walked into the city. Lots of things were on fire, so Miss Faramund told me to stay back. Then, your people went flying into the air like whooossshhh, and you put them out. Then, everyone started healing the plants. Miss Faramund did a really good job helping out. Her glowy hands were pretty. I wasn't allowed to do it because my magic is too unstable. I had fun watching, though! But I was sad because none of the kids wanted to play with me. I guess they don't like half fanice like me, huh?"
Michaela stares at her with confusion, as if wondering if she should respond.
Eila starts to pout. "It's really hard being the only kid who's different, you know? I wish I was like you guys. It would be so cool to fly."
The room is silent for a moment. Not even Michaela seems to know what to say. Terra wouldn't either. If she weren't so hyper aware of her movements right now, her jaw would have dropped at that performance. Her sister is an excellent liar.
Seeming unsatisfied with that response, Michaela turns her attention to Professor Faramund, but then, her eyes widen.
Horrifyingly, she turns back to Eila, her face falling. Terra's heart skips a beat. The fanice has clearly found a problem with that story. It's written all over her face.
"Little one, why do you call your own mother 'Miss Faramund'? That's very strange."
"No, it isn't." Eila says, not missing a beat. "You call someone 'Miss' when you respect them. I respect Miss Faramund a lot."
"Really now? Still, I don't recall it being human custom to call one's mother that."
"Well, she's not our real mother." the little girl states.
Oh no.
After she says that, the atmosphere of the room changes. Michaela's eyes widen, and the guards each hold up a hand as if they're going to use magic. Professor Faramund looks at Eila, and Terra grips the bottom of her seat. This isn't good. Her little sister just exposed a blatant lie.
"What do you mean, she's not your real mother?" Michaela asks darkly.
Eila doesn't seem to be fazed at all. "Umm, we're adopted. Duh. Terra and I used to live on the streets. It was hard, and I was always so hungry. Miss Faramund rescued us, though. She's the best."
"Yes," the professor says. "When I found them, I sensed they were just like me: half fanice who had been abandoned by the villages and their parents. I suppose they did not want the burden of raising two children like them in the city. We've been together ever since."
"Really?" the interrogator asks, unconvinced. "Why didn't you tell us that from the beginning?"
"It's none of your beeswax!" Eila shouts. "Why do you want to know everything about our lives? You're so nosy. We need privacy."
"That's the nature of an interrogation, young lady. Be careful with that tone. We can easily leave you all to rot in a jail cell down here."
Finally, the little girl sinks into her seat, fear returning to her gaze.
Luckily, Michaela seems to be done with Eila. She moves on to the professor, asking her questions similar to those of the girls, and of course, Professor Faramund has the best performance. She has an excuse for everything, but the most baffling part is her cover story for the time of King Azrael's death. "You were watching me like a hawk if you can remember. I never left the group once. I couldn't have."
Judging by the look on Michaela's face, this is true, which baffles Terra. Only about an hour ago, Professor Faramund told them she was the one who killed the king. That couldn't have been possible if she wasn't in the village.
Michaela sighs, clearly frustrated. "So, to summarize, at the time of King Azrael's death, Terra was with Gabriel the whole time, and Eila and Damira never left our group. Is that the long and short of it?"
"It is," Professor Faramund says. "Are you done with us now? We were clearly unable to do it. Please escort us back to the village."
Michaela gets up and slams her hands on the table. "Are you kidding me? You mean to tell me the day you arrived at the village, the king died, and you three had nothing to do with it? Do you take us for fools? Guards, lock them up."
The two guards hesitate.
"What are you doing? I'm the captain of this division. You answer to me."
"But sir, we haven't received approval from Prince Gabriel yet."
"The prince is not in the right state of mind to make these decisions. There are no other royals to command, and I'm head of security, so I make the rules."
The professor stands up, mirroring Michaela's enraged stance. "I hate to bring this up, but from what I've heard, King Azrael wasn't admired by all fanice. Some of his policies were quite controversial, even to his own son. Is it at all possible that it was someone else? Instead of immediately blaming the outsiders, maybe you should look at your people more closely."
"How dare you? Don't just stand there. Detain them!"
The guards reach for the bindings, but Professor Faramund isn't done. "Are you sure that's a good idea? If Prince Gabriel finds out what you did, and he disapproves of it, you could lose your status entirely." She glances at the guards threateningly. "You all could."
The two men let go of the ropes and cross their arms. That threat worked. They aren't going to obey.
Realizing she's been defeated, Michaela heads toward the exit. "Don't think this is over. I'm stationing guards to watch the three of you at all times. Camael, Angelo, one of you will stay outside their cottage tonight."
"But--"
"No buts, the prince would at least let me do that."
"Now come on, is that really necess—" the professor starts to say.
"You're lucky I don't throw you behind bars right now! I still think you're hiding something, and it's only a matter of time before I find out what."
Terra bites her lip. The only reason she's not throwing them in jail right now is because of the prince. Professor Faramund was right in calling her out earlier. They strictly respect the wishes of their royalty. That means they should be okay as long as Gabriel remains sympathetic toward them.
"Very well then," the professor responds. "I do not agree, but I understand why you're doing it. We're outsiders. It will take a while for us to earn your trust. Let me know if we can do anything to assist in the investigation. I did not like the king, but he did not deserve to go out like that."
"I certainly won't," Michaela says through gritted teeth. "Guards, escort them back. Station at least one fanice near their cottage to watch their movements 23/7."
Reluctantly, the men guarding the door gesture for them to leave. This time, they don't tie them up. Instead, they walk behind them the whole way up, huffing and puffing in frustration. They wanted them to be the culprits. That much is clear. Terra feels relieved they were able to fool them, but at the same time, an inkling of confusion lingers in her mind.
Michaela was watching Professor Faramund the whole time. She wasn't anywhere near the king. How did she kill him?
Meanwhile, the professor walks so casually, it's aggravating.
Then, they reach the cottage. Michaela flies away with one of the guards, and they're left with one fanice man, leaning on the wall outside their doorway. He grabs a rolled-up plant from his pocket, lights it, and begins to smoke. "What are you looking at? Go to bed, the lot of you."
The family rushes into the house without another word.
…
To ensure they're not heard, the three of them make their way to the back bedroom, where Terra and Eila have been sleeping. The sheets are still an unmade mess, but Professor Faramund doesn't seem to care. She pats the spot next to her, and they join.
"Can they hear us from here?" Terra whispers.
The professor shakes her head. "Not unless we shout."
She breathes in relief. "We've had too many close calls. I don't know if my heart can take many more."
"Well, you certainly have," the professor corrects. "You, and I guess Eila a few minutes ago. You both need to step up your acting game if you want to save everyone."
"Professor, we're doing our best. It's not like you're giving us much to work with."
"What do you mean by that? I told you exactly what to do. I even gave you the gyp to mimic magic."
"That gyp hardly worked," Terra finds herself saying. "It malfunctioned right in front of Gabriel."
The professor's face grows pale. "Wh-What did you say?"
"Don't worry. It eventually did work, but I had to try again. I had to make up an excuse that I was an amateur at magic. They bought it, but it was a close call."
Professor Faramund leans forward, thinking.
"Why didn't it work?" Eila asks. "Did you not use it right?"
"I did use it right," Terra says, running on the edge of her patience.
"Hmm…" the professor responds. "This one might have been my bad. It's been so long since I've learned magic; I must have forgotten. To perform a spell, one must have intent, a direction they want it to go." A flame appears on the end of their fingertip. "This fire, for example, has two instructions: burn small and burn bright. Did you give the plant your intent the first time, Terra?"
She shakes her head. Gabriel had to teach her how to do that.
"I see. Do that from now on, and it should work. I created the gyps using a combination of technology and my own magic. It makes sense that they would work similarly to real spells. I'm sorry about that."
"It's… okay," Terra says, avoiding eye contact.
"Well, if everyone has calmed down, I'm going to get ready for bed," the professor says, standing up. She stares at Terra, waiting for a response. She doesn't say anything. "You have no further questions, correct?"
"Not any more you would answer," she mumbles.
"What was that? Speak up, please."
"I said…" She trails off, not wanting to start another argument. "Nothing. Let's just go to bed."
Eila places a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong, Terra? You look mad."
"I'm not. Just drop it."
The professor leans against the wooden wall, frowning. "You're clearly rattled. Tell us why."
She holds her breath, knowing the can of worms this will open. "Okay, fine. I noticed something… off about your story in there. You told us you assassinated the king, but Michaela saw you with the group the whole time. Please, fill in the details for me. How were you in two places at once?"
Her face falls. "I wasn't. I was outside with everyone else. Rest assured, I have my ways."
"And what are those ways? You claim to trust us. You say that if we don't follow your instructions, the plan isn't going to work, but I still don't understand what this plan is. Every time I ask a question you avoid it, or you use vague language. I'm sick of it. Just tell us the truth already!"
"When have I done that?" the professor asks. "I don't know where you're getting any of this from. Name an example."
"Okay, how about when we asked where the humans were? Or when I asked about the gyp? Or just now, when I wanted to know how you possibly could have killed the king and fooled the guards, who were watching you the whole time?"
"Really? That's all you've got? First of all, I don't know where the people of Nadura City are. I'm still trying to figure that out. Second, I told you about the gyp. I'm sorry for not remembering all the details about magic, but it's been a long time since I've done it regularly. Third, that is not something I can disclose at this time. I want you girls to keep our secret under wraps while I find the captive people. You won't be able to do it if I tell you every single detail."
"Why?!" Terra yells. "Why can't we know? How is not knowing possibly less harmful?"
"Terra, stop!" her sister screams. Both of the women pause. "I can't take this anymore. You're on the same side. Stop fighting!"
"Don't you want to know too, Eila? Wouldn't it be better if the professor told us what she's up to?"
"I don't know, and you don't either! She saved us, and I trust her. So, stop getting mad at her. I don't want to fail at rescuing everyone and be stuck here forever!"
Vrrrrrr
For several seconds, everyone is so quiet they can hear the white noise of the cabin interior. Then, before Terra can say something, another noise echoes down the hall.
Knock knock
The professor goes to answer the door while the girls stay in the room.
"Yes, can I help you?" they hear her answer from down the hall.
"Everything okay in here?" the guard from earlier asks. "I heard yelling."
"It's fine. We were just about to go to bed, actually. The girls were fighting over the toothpaste."
"Good. Please quiet down. It's late."
"I understand. Goodnight."
Close.
The door closes, and the professor returns to the room. She glares at the girls, then places a finger over her lips. "We will talk about this when we have more privacy. Can you deal with that, Terra?"
She crosses her arms. That sounded so condescending. Still, their top priority is not getting caught. "Sure, whatever."
"Go to bed. Both of you." With that, she leaves, her footsteps pounding down the hallway.
Terra collapses onto the bed and places a pillow over her face, wanting to scream. Eila tries to ask her what happened, and she blows her off, telling her she wants to go to bed. Her little sister respects her wishes, and for the rest of the night, they don't talk at all. Instead, they awkwardly lay in the bed with their backs facing each other, and Terra's thoughts race.
She doesn't understand why the professor is being so vague. They're useless in whatever plan she's cooking—nothing more than distractions.
Then again, maybe that's what they're supposed to be.