Flowers in Winter

More than one visitor to Sahalle climbed the steep path up the bluffs to admire the dramatic view of the city. Often there were at least a score of people milling around up there, chattering to companions and strangers about the beautiful lake, about the grand old city dominating the neck of the river delta, about the alien strangers on the skyland that cast its shadow across the city as it crawled northeast along the Carousel. The alien visitors murmured with the rest of them, although they focused their wonder for the humans in the city below. They talked to each other indiscriminately, most of them standing above Sahalle for the first time.

But they did not talk to the pair on the very edge of the cliffs. The tourists didn't even go near them and few of them even noticed their avoidance. A shadow in the mind when they strayed too close, perhaps, a wish for the company of others further down the path. Something sent them away. She didn't want visitors just then.

The woman sat on the edge of the cliff, her feet dangling over the edge. Her companion—the one they could see—was a small girl, perhaps eight years old. The woman had brown hair, long and braided three times, and brown skin, and a wealth of wrinkles around her blue eyes. She wore a grey dress with voluminous pockets and patches, and her boots were laced up to her knees. The little girl had blond hair, loose and free, although it did not wave in the wind. Her dress was white, and spotless, and reminiscent of gauze. Her feet were bare and pink, and as clean as her dress.

The woman stared over the city for a while, until her companion said acidly, "Quite the dramatic figure you're cutting, Sohlu. Are you sure you wouldn't like to stand up and make a more imposing profile as you brood?"

Sohlu lay back on the hard ground, her feet still dangling over the edge, and shielded her eyes against the sun as she gazed up at the skyland passing overhead. One of the Meadowland countries, she thought. They were due around here now, in any case. Jahane continued sniping at her. "You've never gone in for flashy dramatics. Is this more of your 'I'm old' fiction? I hope you aren't considering throwing yourself off."

Sohlu said quietly, still shading her eyes against the sky, "Jahane, you're starting to annoy me."

There was silence, except for the distant sounds of the impressed tourists and the cries of one enterprising businessman selling engravings of the city from a tray around his neck. His brethren, selling drinks and so forth, were a bit farther down the path. The wind rose, carrying the scent of water, the earth below her, the sweat and perfumes of each of the visitors. Flowers, she thought. From the Meadowlands.

Petals drifted down from the sky, a few of them landing on Sohlu's cheeks and chest. Behind her, she could hear cries of delight from the visitors. She narrowed her eyes, focused her attention on the distant edge of the skyland, and her vision telescoped in with a slight pressure against her temples, the warning of a headache if she held the magnification too long.

She could see children standing at the edge of the skyland, tethers around their waists and hovering adult figures behind them, and mounded around them were bushels of flower petals. One child—all of them had identical long blond hair pulled back into ponytails and telling their gender was impossible—laughed and upturned another of the bushels of petals over the city. The pink and purple flowers drifted down, many spun away out over the lake by the wind, but just as many spiraling down to the city.

A white flash obscured Sohlu's vision and she let her eyes relax. Jahane's dress had flapped in the wind and now she was smoothing it primly. Then she upturned her palm and looked at the petal there and said in a subdued voice, "Are we going down to the city or not, that's all I want to know." And then she blew on the petal in her hand. It puffed into a feather and swirled out over the city to mingle with the shower from the Meadowlands country.

"Yes," said Sohlu. "Let's go." And she tried to ignore her own thoughts of what lay in the city. "People are expecting me."

She had exchanged three sets of letters with the University in Sahalle as she meandered her way down the river Doje, through the spring and into the summer. Memory of the long winter before drove her forward, sending letters ahead of her like heralds. Her uncle, a wanderer like herself, was gone, but she had a friend at the University, one of the teachers there who had once, long ago, in a different life, invited her to come and teach the children of Sahalle.

If she'd stayed in her village, in Set Panado, she'd have been a teacher. Village witches in the Valley were responsible for the most basic of lessons as well as the most advanced, and while there was no room for her in Set Panado anymore, she thought the idea of teaching in another town was appealing.

And yet… and yet…

She was getting too old to wander, she told herself. She'd seen enough of the world. Time to settle down and pass her knowledge on to others, before it was too late for that, too. She'd spent the last season looking for 'one final adventure', though, driven forward by the winter but unable to let go of the spring.

She made her way down the bluffs, with Jahane flitting behind her. Jahane was right; it wasn't like her to be so melancholy. It wasn't like her to settle down. It was new; she was changing. She had changed.

She whispered under her breath, "And you, Acala? Do you think this is silly of me?" The dusty wind off the bluffs sighed behind her and an errant purple petal fluttered past. Inside, she heard a velvet voice murmur, All people change.

And that was all Acala seemed to have to offer on the subject. He'd been more helpful in the past. Then again, Jahane had never been quite as bitchy as she was lately.

"What if they don't want you to work for them? What if they don't want a bumpkin Valley witch teaching their precious wizard children?" Jahane could no longer restrain herself, obviously. "They haven't accepted you yet, only invited you to interview."

Sohlu paused, let Jahane catch up to her, and rested her hand on the blonde head. "Are you so frightened of the city, then?"

Jahane looked pained. "Of course not." She stared up at Sohlu, her silver eyes fierce and intent, and offered no more explanation.

The city sprawled on both sides of the river Doje, dotted with fortified manors looming on their stonework hills over the lesser buildings. The shadow of the Meadowlands country was on the east side of the city now and Sohlu passed under one spur of it as she made her way through the outskirts of the city. It had been hard to tell the University, looking down from the bluffs, but she'd picked out the large population of children and young adults wandering between a triangle of three of the fortified manors and thought that must be it.

Jahane grumbled. "They're expecting you today. I'm glad you managed to stop woolgathering on the cliff and get down here. Aren't you supposed to meet them soon?" She glanced up at the Meadowlands country above and stuck her tongue out at it. "Stupid skylands, throwing timekeeping off. I don't know what possessed people to build a city right here. If I were them, I'd want to avoid the route of the Half-Century Empire."

Sohlu listened to her muttering with half an ear as she tried to navigate the increasingly crowded streets of Sahalle. They were so narrow in places, especially close to the manors, and people choked them. More of the merchants selling things from trays hawked their wares on every street corner, and Sohlu thought there was a marketplace off to the west from the sounds that direction. Her nose would have been overwhelmed by all the scents, but it wasn't the first time she'd been in a city and she was wise enough to shut it down. It wasn't just people contributing to the noise and smell, but dogs and ponies. She thought there must be different streets for the nobles and their horses and carriages, though, because she saw no evidence of them and couldn't see how they would fit through the narrow, packed streets.

She kept seeing flashes of color as the wind shuffled flower petals caught in the eaves of buildings into the air again. The cityfolk seemed oblivious, however, busily doing the things cityfolk did.. She paused, and Acala guided the flow of traffic around her as she stirred the air to bring a handful of petals to her. She sniffed at them, inhaling the heady, musky scent and then thoughtfully stuffed them in her pocket, thinking of the children pouring them off their skyland.

"Sohlu," Jahane called. Her white dress was still spotless. "Over here." She was in an alleyway barely wider than the expanse of Sohlu's outstretched arms. When Sohlu joined her, she pointed. "The clean streets are there. We won't get you to the University on the dirty ones."

Sure enough, on the other side of the alleyway was an expanse of wide, pale-cobbled street with far fewer people. Sohlu wondered if there were special ways to enter the city to end up on those streets, but followed Jahane through the alley and onto the pretty boulevard. It ran straight into the heart of the city, and was as wide as three of the dirty streets, with carriages proceeding past now and then at a dignified pace. In the center of the boulevard was a strip of greenery lined with small trees, and in the center of that was a wide graveled pathway. Pedestrians strolled there, dressed well, whether it was as nobles, gentry, or the servants of such. Even as Sohlu stood at the edge of the alley, watching, one of the servants carrying a basket crossed the carriageway and ducked down the alley, giving Sohlu and Jahane a curious look. Jahane stuck her tongue out again, and Sohlu remarked absently, "You know, such behavior isn't really seemly for a child dressed as you are."

Jahane only shrugged and ran across the street; Sohlu followed her more sedately, turning towards the University. She suspected she was too uncouth, in her worn and patched dress, for such lovely boulevards, but she thought the pleasantness of travel rather made up for the inconvenience of having to deal with people who disapproved. Acala shifted around her, and the first two groups of people who looked at her looked incuriously away again.

The third pair, though, looked directly at her. She felt Acala waver, and the man's eyes narrowed. He strode towards her, his lady companion following along in confusion. He wore a pretty, light sword at his hip, and a dagger, and a pin with a centaur on it secured his cloak.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the outer city?"

Sohlu gazed at him mildly and said, "I'm walking to the University. You don't mind." She sent her will out to enforce the words, and felt a mild twist of nervousness in her belly as her touch was rebuffed. He knew what she had tried to do.

The man's mouth tightened. The woman, who wore a gorgeous blue silk dress and a shawl secured with a unicorn pin, tugged on the man's sleeve. "What's wrong, Arett?"

He ignored her, growled at Sohlu, "You're not from here. Are you from Westmarche?" He glanced over her clothes, her features, and she sighed.

"No. I am from Gierra Valley. Past Westmarche? Please, I do have an appointment at the University." She raised her chin; she would not babble explanations at this young man. Soon, she would simply remove him from her path, good manners or not.

"I don't think so," he said. "I think you should come along with me."

His companion's brow furrowed. "Arett, there's no reason why she can't be on these streets. I hardly noticed her before you pointed her out. If she has business at the University—"

He bent his head to whisper something swiftly in her ear and the woman's eyes rounded. Sohlu's spine was stiff, and suddenly she was angry.

"Very well," she said coldly. "If you will give me a moment." She pulled some of the petals from her skirt pocket and whispered a message to them. Then she blew them out of her hand and they puffed into a bird of colored light that went winging down the street. The man's eyes were round now, too, she noticed. "My lord. You are a wizard, I see. Please, take me where you would like to take me. I've sent a message to the University informing them I shall be late."

Acala shifted around her. There is no need, he murmured to her. He is only a child. Easy enough to frighten him away.

Sohlu said to the couple, "My familiar thinks I should force you to leave me alone. But I wouldn't wish you to think I am rude. I have hopes of spending the winter here. So please, let us go." And she glared at them, and regretted mentioning the winter.

The man shook himself. "I will take you to the Council office. They will like to know of foreign witches in the city. We'll see about this winter business." There was more there he wasn't telling her; Sohlu could see it in his companion's eyes.

They walked on either side of her, with Jahane between the woman and Sohlu. After a few moments, the woman timidly began to talk to Jahane, but Jahane was just as furious as Sohlu; she always reflected the strongest of Sohlu's emotions.

Sohlu held onto her anger. It was a shield against the winter, the last winter, against the reason she was here. This was neither exciting, nor relaxing, and the brief rush of pleasure she'd had in surprising the boy with her magic was not something she typically enjoyed. She imagined, a pain in her stomach, the simple, sleepy, sweet pleasures of traveling, of hearing stories, of meeting people happy to see her and the news she carried from far away. But that only led her back to the winter, and the loneliness.

It was not a long walk. The Council building was round, domed, and sparkling white, and the chamber within where she was asked to sit was small, square, and without windows. The chairs were quite comfortable, though. As she settled into one, her spine still stiff, the wizard vanished, leaving the woman to hover anxiously at the door.

"Would you or your daughter like anything to drink?" She'd told Jahane her name was Kandise.

Sohlu hesitated, and then said grudgingly, "Yes please."

Kandise said something to somebody outside the door and then stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Leaning on it, she said breathlessly, "They'll bring something. I'm so sorry for the way Arett is behaving. The warriors are worried about the advent of the Empire, but I thought, nobody would send a woman with her daughter to be a spy, it makes no sense—"

Sohlu interrupted her, moving her hand to lessen the rudeness. "She isn't my daughter. She's my other familiar."

Kandise's eyes widened even more, if that was possible, and she whirled and fled the room, slamming the door behind her.

Jahane slumped into a chair and said, "That could have gone better. She's probably off to tell stories of how Valley witches enslave children for occult purposes."

Sohlu let a touch of irritation enter her voice. "You're the one who finds it cute to look like a little girl. I should make you solve this."

Jahane didn't look up. "You didn't have to correct her assumption."

Sohlu's voice trembled. "I don't have a daughter."

Without saying anything, Jahane stood up and moved to crouch beside Sohlu's chair, holding her hand tightly. Acala shimmered around her, the corners of the room darkening briefly. We should leave this place. It is so bad for you.

"No," she said, and struggled to control the trembling. "No. I have to find a home somewhere. Someplace where I'm not alone."

Jahane muttered, as if she was forcing the words out, "What if they don't want you here?" and raised her head to gaze at Sohlu bitterly. "You're so young, Sohlu. I don't like this anymore than you do. Please get over it soon." Then she ducked her head again, and clung to Sohlu's hand with both of her own, as if one of them where drowning.

So young. "Time has caught me, Jahane," she said helplessly. "It's all behind me. I have to do something." She closed her eyes, and let herself drift in Acala's protective embrace, waiting quietly for what would come.

The door opened, and Tanaere Lokus stood there, her friend from the University. She wore a cloak closed with a silver raven pin and Sohlu remembered then that all the schools in the university had an animal of some sort as their mascot, and wore them proudly. She supposed that meant Kandise had been a wizard as well.

She stood up as Tanaere entered the room, closing the door behind her. The other woman was a handful of years older than her; they hadn't seen each other in decades and Tanaere's blond hair had turned white in the interim. They studied each other for a moment and then Tanaere's eyes eyes flicked to Jahane, still grasping Sohlu's hand.

"An elemental?" Tanaere inquired.

"Yes," said Sohlu, and felt a quiet burst of pride as she said, "Two, actually."

Tanaere narrowed her eyes and then smiled. "Well, well. I'm impressed."

And suddenly Sohlu felt a rush of relief and the tension drained from her shoulders. She stepped forward and then paused awkwardly. Tanaere seemed to see that, as well, and held out her arms, her wrists up. Pleased again, Sohlu released Jahane and stepped forward to take Tanaere's wrists in her hands and grip them firmly; Tanaere returned the familiar greeting and then slid her arm in the crook of Sohlu's and looked down at Jahane.

"Kandise is babbling about spies who drain children for their magical power. Can you tell she didn't graduate from Ekaterina?" Tanaere grinned. Ekaterina was the raven school, for scholars, Sohlu vaguely remembered.

Jahane said brazenly, "She's a silly slip of a girl, with a silly paramour. It's a good thing you showed up, or Acala and I would have had to do something quite unsettling." She made this sound quite ominous and then added, "I'm Jahane. I've heard so much about you."

Tanaere raised an eyebrow at Sohlu even as she opened the door and pulled Sohlu into the corridor. All she said, though, was, "We have an interview to get you to. Luckily, more than one of the people who will be interviewing you have seats on the Council, so they can fulfill their little registration laws there. I'm sorry I didn't warn you; this is new."

Jahane caught her hand again and squeezed it. "They might hate you," she warned, but her eyes were bright with sympathy.

Arett stood in the front room of the Council building glowering as Tanaere propelled them past, saying to Jahane, "They might. But they'll hire her anyhow. There's nobody more qualified to teach the Far Vistas classes. Now you hush."

Sohlu felt reassured by this, and Jahane obediently hushed as they hustled down the street towards the three manors of the University.

It was unlike anything Sohlu had ever experienced before, despite her supposed qualifications for teaching the Far Vistas class. Tanaere, not part of the interview process, left her at the door to a chamber with a large table. She was told to sit in a chair at the end of the table, and sixteen pairs of eyes stared at her as various individuals asked her a dizzying array of questions. The table had seats for twenty-six, but apparently some of the headmasters didn't have much opinion on whether a foreign witch taught their students.

They asked her about her experiences traveling. They asked her about places she'd seen, and more than one of the polished wizards watching her seemed dubious about her descriptions of her experiences, based on their own experiences reading books and ancient scrolls. It was infuriating, and it made her want to laugh. Jahane knelt at her side and muttered under her breath throughout the interview, which didn't help Sohlu's suppressed laughter.

And then they asked her why she wanted to work at the University, why she was interested in settling down in one place after an adult lifetime of traveling. Jahane abruptly stopped her muttered commentary and Acala pulled around her protectively, and the sixteen pairs of eyes that stared at her were oblivious to the tension racing down her spine.

Sohlu swallowed, and said softly, "Time comes to all of us. Sometimes, one comes to wish for a home. Sometimes, one wishes to spend each winter in the place they spent the last, with friends they know they will see tomorrow…?" She ended the sentence on a questioning note and studied the sixteen faces. Acala darkened the corners of the room, prepared to lash out if they reacted poorly. Then the faces began nodding, and she soothed the elemental under her breath and tried to calm the racing of her heart.

Afterwards, they asked her to wait outside, but only for a few moments. Then one of the faces, the Dean of Academics, joined her outside and invited her to work there for a three month trial. If there were no significant complaints after that period, she would be invited to stay permanently. The Dean told her, with a slight smile, that very few student complaints would be counted. It was supposed to be a joke, she thought, but she felt numb inside. Then the Dean left her to go find Tanaere, who would show her to her rooms on campus, and then take care of the foreign magic-user registration. Sohlu sat there, very still, and waited.

Finally, Tanaere showed up. She looked at Sohlu and then sat beside her on the bench. "Congratulations," she said slowly. "But it was rough? You don't look so well."

Sohlu looked at Tanaere for a moment. Manners forgotten, she raised her hand to touch Tanaere's white hair, pulled into a bun, and then her own hair, still rich and brown. "I thought my hair would be white by the time…" She trailed off and then said, "Tanaere, you have never said in your letters, but have you children?"

Tanaere caught her breath and then said thoughtfully, "Two of my own, yes. Both grown now." She paused and then said, "Would you like to meet some of your students?"

Sohlu felt a rush of fear, the first fear she'd admitted all day, and Jahane opened her mouth, and then clapped her hands over it and shook her head firmly. And Sohlu suddenly realized why. "It's me, isn't it?" she said to Jahane, eyeing the familiar intently. "You're reflecting me."

Jahane nodded, hands still clapped over her mouth. She mumbled past her fingers, "It's worse than adolescents. I stay away from adolescents for a reason."

Sohlu felt wretched. "I'm sorry. I'll try to be better. I didn't realize…" The elemental familiar, bound to Sohlu's psyche, was channeling and reflecting her emotions even when she didn't want to, and Sohlu wondered, a pain in her heart, if she'd have made it this far without being able to externalize and ignore her anxiety. Jahane deserved more kindness.

Jahane snapped, "Just get over it, please? Go meet your students," and stalked away from the two human women.

Tanaere watched all this, chewing on her lip, and then said, "Yes, I think you should meet your students. I know some fourth years you'll be teaching when the new term starts. They'll be in the lounge just across the green."

Jahane tagged along some distance behind them as they crossed the green, sulking, and Sohlu could feel Acala thoroughly enjoying the other elemental's bad mood in a trace of their old rivalry before she'd made peace between the two. Tanaere was quiet on the walk, but Sohlu could tell there was something she was trying to frame words around. Sohlu could have encouraged her, would have normally, but didn't. Instead she focused on her fear, tried to keep it to herself, tried not to tremble.

And then she was in a lounge with six children, four girls, two boys, all around fourteen or so.

"What, you're from past Westmarche? Does the Carousel even pass by over that far?" A boy was dubious.

"Only once every fifteen years," she answered. "I'll tell you more about it in class." She noticed the surprise on several faces and added, "There's even some places where they don't know about the Carousel, where the skylands are stationary overhead, for years and years and years and years. Lifetimes."

"No way! You're making it up," said the dubious boy.

She eyed him. He'd be an entertaining student to teach, she could tell.

"Wilam, hush," said a girl. "Please, Master Sohlu, tell us about yourself?" Tanaere was standing near the door, watching. The girl continued, "Do you have any children of your own?"

And from a child, it was not so bad. "No," she said. "No, I don't."

"Why not?" challenged the dubious boy.

She hesitated and then admitted, "I never had time, always put it off, always had some place else to see. The winters kept passing by, each in a new place…" She remembered last winter, remembered the healer telling her she would no longer be able to have children, that it was too late, she was too old. She was old. Her timeless youth was over and her vague expectations of her future had passed her by as one day slid into another. She'd never felt as lonely as she had last winter. Last winter, loneliness had stretched off for an eternity.

But she was here now.

She looked up, met Tanaere's grave gaze, and offered her a faint, sad smile. Then, glancing down at the children clustered around her, she concluded, "I had adventures instead. So, no children for me."

And Jahane, smiling through the veil of her platinum hair, whispered, "Until now."

Sohlu looked around at the six faces, each so young, the dubious boy belligerent, the pretty girl sadly sympathetic. She realized Jahane, as always, was right, and felt her heart take wing once more.