Chapter Twenty-Three: Honestly 

+++++Anise+++++ 

Anise turned the 'blue-pal' banknote over in her hand. This one was for ten stacks, issued by the Imperial Bank of Westval. The Grand Palace of St. Arbalest was on the back, of course, and the front had the bank's seal, the signature of the exchequer, and the portrait of Gustavus III. He was, apparently, a current or former prince of Westval. Anise was ashamed to admit that she knew very little about her homeland, other than that it was very old, heavily forested, and the interior half of the country was dominated by Brunval, who was a 10th elevation Lord Sorcerer with immense power. Part of the reason her ancestors had fled to Yuya-Sasetù was because ancient sorcerers didn't like change and the people under Brunval's lordship were forced to live as people had lived for many hundreds of years. 

Her maternal great-grandparents had escaped Brunval's dominion and taken residence in Westval, one of the more progressive cities of Muyyinde (the Western continent, literally 'motherland' in the Old Borr tongue of the borrenkin). The Derrigins had prospered in Muyyinde, but her parents and grandparents had fled for the shores of Yuya-Sasetù and St. Arbalest when Anise was only four. She could barely remember Westval and had no idea whether Gustavus III was its current prince - she just had images and impressions. 

She remembered being aboard the great steamer that had carried the family to St. Arbalest, could remember their two weeks crossing the great gray sea and how she'd thought that was their new home, that one hundred and fifty meters of transoceanic steamer was to be the whole of her world from then on out. She remembered being awkward with Unilog, of being teased about her accent at the school her parents had sent her to when she was old enough to go away for her schooling. And now she thought in Unilog and had to struggle to tamp down her accent and remember her gendered nouns whenever she switched to Westricht, as sometimes happened in her parents' continental social circles. Sometimes, she'd been made fun of for mixing her vocabulary up, calling a carriage 'ynna voggon' instead of 'innem voggon', because carriages were so clearly masculine rather than feminine. What kind of sense did that make? 

So Annise had a blue-pal note worth as much as the average St. Arbalest citizen made in twenty years… which meant she couldn’t possibly use it to pay for public transit. At least she wasn't penniless anymore. She tracked down Berhu and asked her for money to pay for transport and, perhaps rationalizing that this would get Anise out of her ruff, the infernic had acquiesced and given her four par, which was enough to pay for a community coach and a streetcar out to the etudium. 

"Where're you going then, love?" the kao-etema sitting next to her on the streetcar asked. 

"Me? Oh, St. Quillia's," Anise said. And already her head was swimming with thoughts of beautiful, brilliant Franyi. She missed her so much already, and it had only been two days. 

"Oh? Are you servant to those rich girls that go to school there?" the woman asked. "I reckon I'd be afraid all the time, working for a magistress…" 

Since the outfit she'd worn into Uncle Fenrik's house had been badly burned, Anise was wearing a dress she'd got from one of Berhu's subordinates. It was a drab green number that did not say 'gentry' or 'aspiring magistress' when you regarded it. She picked at the competently-crafted but roughspun fabric. 

"Most of them aren't so bad," Anise said. "I'm visiting my best friend - she's a student there." 

"That's nice," the woman said, though there was a hint of sadness in her voice. Anise suppose she imagined a friendship between two girls of modestly differing social class, where one had entered the skilled servantry and another the magisterial class, and from there their friendship was to drift apart. A magistress's assistant and a housemaid were far enough apart in the city's informal hierarchy that only the most profound friendships could survive. 

Come to think of it, how many friends did Anise have in the servantry? If you didn't count Ezra and Rill, who were infernics and freakish prodigies of one stripe or another, the number was approximately zero. Though Ezra had started out as a thrall, so Anise decided she'd give herself one tally mark in the 'class consciousness' column. 

"Etudium Stop!" the streetcar driver called out. 

Anise turned to the woman. "We're best friends, miss, Franyi and I are." 

"That's nice," the woman said as Anise departed the streetcar. 

It was late autumn and all of the trees were bare. The groundskeepers had dutifully cleared the leaves away and the grass hadn't yet taken on the dingy yellow-green of winter, and so the campus had the odd bare-pillared look of dark tree trunks against healthy green grass with the little pale yellow or red brick campus paths wending between them. Anise spotted girls milling about in the courtyards and along the green, some of them sitting in pools of sunlight with shawls over their shoulders, deep in study or just chatting amongst themselves. Anise felt a pang of jealousy - she was being denied an opportunity. She knew she was more capable than most of these girls, and yet she'd been denied the chance to continue her studies here. She'd been outright expelled! 

Most girls never even got that, she realized. When her parents had come over from Westval, her father had already been a trained physician and her mother was already a 4th elevation mage's assistant. They weren't rich - that wouldn't come for another few years - but they'd been granted all the tools they'd need to make it in society. Among the human, borrenkin, and kao-etema girls at St. Quillia's were one kao-etema, one dorthek, and zero byoun or urmal. Not a one. And even the kao-etema or dorthek, whose names Anise hadn't even bothered to learn, came from families with money - what were the chances? It would be a strange cosmic coincidence if only the girls whose families could afford tuition happened to be talented enough to be magistresses. And yet Anise had always assumed it was her merit, her keen intellect, that had landed her at the school.  

"You'll get in trouble if somebody recognizes you," Virtupi-Grace whispered. She'd snuck right up and Anise nearly tripped when she startled. "Somebody else, I mean…" 

Anise calmed herself and smiled at her friend. "What are they going to do? Expel me again?" 

"Fine you for trespassing, I guess?" 

"If all I get accused of is trespassing, I'll be happy to pay the fine," Anise said. "I was just going to find you guys during the midday hour…" The truth was, she'd only gone there to see Franyi, but it would be nice to catch up with her friends, too… well, maybe. 

"Okay… I can sneak you in the back if you like." 

"I got expelled for lying to Binar. I lied about helping Ezra escape." 

"Did he… trick you?" Virtupi-Grace asked carefully. Her ruff of fur was golden in the pale autumn sunlight, and her eyes were wide behind dark sunglasses. She inched away. 

"He didn't trick me. I wanted to help him escape, and I did. And then I lied to the police and the magistress about it." 

"Wow…" Virtupi-Grace whispered. "Um… no offense, Anise, but you're a lot cooler than I thought. I always thought you were little-miss-perfect… um…" her little, sharp kao-etema canine nibbled at her lower lip. "You probably shouldn't tell Eloise. She's not very pro-inferic." 

Anise shrugged. "If it comes up, I'm not going to lie. I'm done with that." 

Virtupi-Grace nodded. "Thanks for telling me." 

Anise snuck into St. Bastia's Hall through the window - she was 5th elevation now and had enough magical oomph to simply lift herself into the air. It took quite a bit - you had to support exactly twice your own weight (since you were lifting yourself, you had to exert a counter-push against the entire planet instead of simply leveraging the weight with magical energy). But Anise managed it, a bit shakily at first, but when she reminded herself that she could lift all sorts of other things without wobbling them all over the place, her technique calmed and she eased right up to the second-floor window. 

"Sweet lord, I'm jealous!" Virtupi-Grace said. 

"Jealous enough to practice more?" 

"Maybe," she allowed. 

They chatted for maybe ten minutes - mostly, it was Virtupi-Grace asking lots of questions about infernics and about being an edgy criminal - which, Anise had to repeatedly insist, she was not. She was a good person who sometimes did criminal things when that was the right thing to do. Anise had always had the impression that Virtupi-Grace would be anti-infernic and pretty strongly pro-St. Quillia's when it came to Anise's recent actions. Instead, she turned out to mostly be terrified of looking uncool or out-of-place among the humans who made up about a third of St. Arbalest's professional magic-users and over half of its high leadership, on account of their rapid advancement relative to the average kao-alta or borrenkin. Virtupi-Grace was a huge fan of 'human culture' (as if there was just one), but she was also a smart girl and very much aware that she'd probably be working for her human classmates in a decade as their magical advancement outstripped hers. 

"Kao-alta can advance almost as fast," Anise pointed out. 

"Yeah, we can, but I'm not one of those mages. If I was a human, I'd be a human Eloise and not a human Anise… heck, I practice loads more than El, and I'm still exactly where she is, advancement-wise." 

Anise clasped her hand, warm and soft in her friend's.  Virtupi-Grace's claws were trimmed completely down to slightly-calloused fingertips. "Franyi needs a study friend now that I'm away. Without her, I bet I'd still be 3rd elevation, right where you are… let's go talk to her…" 

Virtupi-Grace nodded eagerly. 

Franyi was in her room… her room, and not her and Anise's room… finishing her post-lunch preparations for her afternoon classes. Anise tapped on the door and then opened it because it was unlocked, and then Franyi rushed to her and brought Anise into a smoldering-hot kiss. Anise's heart filled with warmth and bliss, and she kissed back, her fingers trailing along the black coils of Franyi's hair, down her lithe back to the little swell of her slim hips. She hummed happily at the feeling, at Franyi's fingers reaching up to trace along her jawline. Virtupi-Grace cleared her throat. 

"Ah!" Franyi blurted, wiping her lips and backing toward her study desk. "Um… Virtupi-Grace…" 

Their friend was blushing in absolute embarrassment, which was adorable because the blood rushing to her light blue cheeks turned them a beautiful lavender color. She looked like a shy little wallflower, which was so utterly unlike her that it made Anise giggle. 

"Um," Franyi said again. "I… I can explain." 

Anise grabbed her hand, weaving her fingers into Franyi's and refusing to release her grip when her girlfriend tugged in objection. No. Virtupi-Grace had seen what she'd seen and Anise was done hiding, and she wasn't going to let Franyi humiliate herself by acting like there was something wrong with it. It was better to just rip that bandage off… 

"I love Franyi, and I don't care who knows it," she said. 

"And I love Anise, too," Franyi said, though her voice sounded small and scared, worried that the life her parents had encouraged her to salvage might be about to fall apart despite their efforts. 

Virtupi-Grace eventually managed eye contact, her big blue eyes peeking out from behind her tinted glasses. Her blush didn't dissipate one iota, though. When she spoke, her voice was even smaller than Franyi's. "There's… there's a legend about the Lia-Kao, an ancient tribe of kao-alta women who loved one another… love as in sex and what have you. They were the most feared warriors for a hundred years…" 

"Is that another way of saying you're okay with us?" 

She nodded uncertainly. "Yeah, I guess so… and sometimes, I…" she bit her lip. "Sometimes, I think I might be that way, too. Don't tell Eloise!" 

Anise zipped her lips. "You're in the club, Virtupi-Grace. Nothing gets out unless we all say so, okay?" 

"That sounds good." 

+++++Anise+++++ 

Virtupi-Grace left a few minutes later, which gave Anise and Franyi exactly five minutes with one another until Franyi's Advanced Sigilics and Runology class. They kissed, sitting side-by-side on Franyi's bed. Anise's old bed was still there, but there were no sheets, nor anything in her dresser or on her little work desk. Though, Anise noted, Franyi had wasted no time in occupying the entirety of the closet. 

"They probably won't move somebody else in until next term," Franyi said. "With any luck, they'll graduate me this term." 

"And after that?" 

Franyi kissed Anise's forehead. "After that, we'll figure it out. Stick around. I'll be back in two hours, and then we'll have two hours to ourselves until supper." 

Anise wiled the time away reading Franyi's new books, since she'd been promoted into all advanced classes with the girls who were about to graduate. She was the only 5th elevation student at the school, as most devoted mages didn't make their 5th elevation until their early twenties. Roughly half of the advanced students would never advance past the 4th elevation - Anise wasn't sure why it didn't happen for everybody, but everything past 3rd was a roughly fifty-fifty split of people who would eventually pass and those who would eventually plateau at that level. For all Anise knew, she would never become more attuned to magic than she was now… though part of her insisted that this couldn't be true. If she was going to upstage her Uncle Fenrik, she'd have to make 9th elevation, and she'd have to leave no doubt about who got to carry the mantle of the family legacy. 

She looked up Franyi's homework assignment and spent her time mixing and preparing whatever could be done from her girlfriend's work desk. She'd read through a whole chapter and mixed a whole row of decoction packs by the time Franyi returned, drained from a long day of classes and nursing a mild headache from the fumes wafting around the alchemy lab. She lay on her bed and then let Anise read to her from her economics and finance book, which had Anise growing drowsier and drowsier, but which Franyi evidently found interesting. 

Anise curled up next to her and smelled her girlfriend's hair. It smelled of Franyi's bath oils, of her usual scents beneath that, and faintly of the pungent alchemical fumes that had given her the headache. She traced little circles on Franyi's belly - she liked it when her girlfriend did that to her, so maybe she liked it back. Anise wondered whether Franyi felt the same little butterflies in her belly when thinking of Anise that she did when she pined for Franyi. Did her heart feel the same warm glow, the one that insisted that the world was worth living in, was worth loving in, when Anise caressed Franyi's side or rested her leg between her thighs? 

Anise awoke, unaware that she'd even gone to sleep, with Franyi kissing her and stroking a finger along her cheek. "I have to go to supper soon…" 

"Don't go," Anise said. 

"People will notice if I'm gone… I'm on thin ice, Anise." 

"I know," Anise said. "Bring something back for me?" 

Franyi returned scarcely thirty minutes later - apparently, she'd taken the minimum possible time for a polite supper and booked it back to St. Bastia's with a little baggie packed with dinner rolls, sweet-yucca mash wrapped in wax paper, a pat of butter, also in wax paper, and strips of seasoned bison meat. There was enough for both of them, and Franyi had barely eaten anything in the feast hall so they could share dinner together. Anise dimmed the lights to a single reading crystal and showed Franyi the little flickering trick she'd learned to make it look like a flame. 

They ate the dinner rolls first, then the sweet-yucca, and then the bison, using the little chopsticks that Franyi liked for keeping her fingers from getting greasy to feed each other little seasoned strips of meet as they chatted. Mostly, Anise asked Franyi about her classes and Franyi tried to ask Anise about what she'd been doing for the past two days… but Anise didn't want to worry her, and so she was vague. Obviously so. 

"Is it that bad?" 

"I'm not sure if the constabulary is after me or not, but I wouldn't blame them." 

Franyi sighed. "You should talk to your parents about it. Have you spoken with them yet?" 

Anise sighed back. "I'm waiting. I will." 

"Waiting for what? Every day you don't talk to them makes things worse, Ani. Whatever horrible thing you think they're going to do isn't going to be softened by letting your relationship fester into gangrene. Maybe you won't feel it anymore, but the rot will still be there." 

"Lovely metaphor." Anise fed Franyi a strip of bison to get her to stop talking. It didn't last for long. 

"We're going. Tonight." 

"We?" 

Franyi nodded. "I haven't got classes tomorrow, so why not? If you're going to break the news to them, wouldn't you rather I be there?" 

"I'd rather you be everywhere I am," Anise said. "But I'm afraid it would impact your study schedule…" 

Franyi dabbed a spot of sauce away from Anise's lower lip. "It would, but one night won't hurt. We can't have me getting too far ahead of you, can we?" 

"Too far ahead? I bet you don't even know how to crack a sigiled up safe!" Anise stuck out her tongue. 

"A what?" Franyi laughed. "Okay, now you have to tell me about what happened yesterday!" 

+++++Anise+++++ 

It was still evening, the last of the day's light a pink-purple dusting upon the clouds of the horizon, when they left the etudium and crossed the bridge into the West Shore before taking a street car down to Contra-Palais where her parents lived. They used Franyi's money, since Anise's remaining one par was for emergencies only (and not enough, in any case). She consoled herself with having a ten-stack blue-par note folded up in her dress pocket. 

"You don’t think he's canceled the note?" Franyi asked? 

Ansie cocked her head. "Done what?" 

Franyi, apparently, had paid better attention in finance than Anise had (little surprise there). Blue-par notes didn't work quite like regular currency, where you could just slap some bills down and pay for services. The notes were bank-issued, not government-issued. A person would go into a bank and offer collateral… most often, it was just a stack of brownbacks… upon which the bank would issue a blue-par for an agreed-upon amount. You could return the blue-par to any branch of that bank and receive the listed sum in cash (or, occasionally precious metals - the Mage's Bank would give out arcanite on request). The original signatory on a blue-pal note could cancel the note by bringing the seven-digit serial number to the original branch. However, this presented a hazard of blue-par signatories using their notes to pay big bills and then canceling before the recipient cashed out. Therefore, all of the big banks had a forty-eight-hour delay before cancellation, and they published a list of the active notes, along with all of those that had been recently canceled or claimed. You could look up the note you'd just been paid with and be assured that you'd have at least twenty-four hours to claim your cash without getting bilked. 

"So if Uncle Fenrik had a list of the serial numbers and went to the bank right away…" 

"Then the notes won't be any good after close of business tomorrow," Franyi confirmed. "Any idea what bank?" 

"Imperial Bank…" 

"Shoot. That bank only has the one branch, right there in West Shore, across the river from the etudium. Fenrik could just post his bird familiar there and wait for you to show up…" 

"Rill incinerated the magpie," Anise said. "But your point still stands." 

"West Pond and Maplecourt!" the street car driver shouted - that was their stop. 

For the remaining two blocks, they walked through the deepening night, past couples strolling in the cool evening and coaches headed up toward the restaurants and nighttime venues of the West Shore. Dread settled in Anise's chest, a constrictive tightening that contrasted with the thudding of her heart, and Franyi said something that she scarcely heard because the blood was rushing in her ears. Abstractly, she knew that Franyi was right and she would have to speak with her parents sooner or later. Abstractly, she knew that she was less dependent upon their largesse than she'd ever been, that her life hadn't reached a dead end even in the worst-case scenario. All the same, it felt like a two-block march up the gallows. 

She rapped on the door three times and waited. She was about to knock again, this time a bit louder, when their household steward, Aursan-Hero, opened the door. His little kao-etema eyes went wide and he scurried off while calling over his shoulder: "I'm getting your mother, Miss Anise." 

Anise didn't figure she needed to be invited into her house… part of her still thought of it as 'her' house, even though she hadn't lived there for more than a few weeks at a time since starting at St. Quillia's. She stepped into the foyer and motioned Franyi in. 

Her parents had upgraded homes with her father's increasing fortune about seven years ago, two years before Anise's start at St. Quillia's. Before that, they'd lived in a modest city house in Portside, with a part-time housekeeper and governess for Anise and no other servants (Anise's brother was five years older, so he'd gone off to boarding school almost right away). But a physician with a Westvalic education could write his own ticket in St. Arbalest, and her father had become quite prosperous. And, on the heels of that, her mother, Karliz Derrigin, had written several well-received books for women of intermediate means, instructing them on becoming women of respectable means. Presumably, the books did not open with: 'Marry a talented physician with a Westvalic pedigree…' 

Aursan-Hero came shuffling out from the back of the house with Anise's mother close behind, her light-brown, tastefully-graying hair done up in a neat bun, her slim dress dark with white buttons and designed for the sort of elegant swishing that Anise could never quite manage. On account of her elevation as a magistress, Karliz Derrigin did not look her fifty-two years - forty would have been a decent guess - and Anise always wondered in the back of her mind whether that growing discrepancy in ages would eventually make things odd with Anise's father, who was well-preserved but looked close to his fifty-three years. 

"Anise!" She snapped… and then immediately softened and startled upon noticing Franyi. "And… Franyi, wasn't it?" 

"Yes, Mrs. Derrigin." 

Karliz visibly mulled over whether it would be unseemly to snap at Anise in front of respectable company and, apparently, decided the occasion called for it. Or maybe she'd decided that Franyi wasn't so respectable. Whatever her mother's thoughts, Anise figured getting snapped at was better than getting outright ejected from the house. 

"Anise Lyria Derrigin," she said… "Do you have any idea how much worry and trouble you've put me through?" 

"I've got a good idea, yes," Anise said. "And I'm very sorry… and I can explain…" 

"I'd like to hear that… and your father deserves to hear, too." 

They all met in the intimate family room upstairs, far cozier than the parlor, with its velveteen green chairs and the ruddy, barely-smoky glow of its alchemical fireplace. Anise's father was already there in his burgundy smoking jacket, silvery hair combed back and his reading glasses yellowed and silvered in the flickering firelight. His expression was neutral, save for the slightest crease of displeasure in his brow. 

And Anise told them. She'd decided that she was no longer a child and would no longer be lying to her parents - and that any errors of omission that she might make were only to protect Franyi or her friends, who were all wanted for felonies of varying degrees of seriousness. So she told them about the circumstances of her expulsion, including how she'd knowingly helped Ezra (without implicating Franyi), and including how she and Franyi were now an item (which Franyi was more than fine with Anise announcing to the world). The whole time, her father maintained his not-quite-neutral frown, whereas her mother alternated between about five poorly-concealed emotions. 

"It's just a phase," Karliz muttered. "It happens all the time at all-girl's schools… just a little experimentation…" 

"It's not," Anise said. Her palms were damp against Franyi's… it was hard to tell which of them was sweating. "I've always been this way, but I couldn't quite put it into words…" 

Karliz's lower lip wavered. "You… you've ruined your life, Anise. What can we ever do with you? How could you do this to your family?" 

"The only thing that I've done is to stop acting like a scared child and dare to be myself," Anise said… and she worried that she sounded like a petulant child when she said it. This was her mother she was talking to - a 5th elevation Mage. And her father, the head of surgery at the St. Naxi of Mercy Hospital. Who was she to lecture them? 

"It's selfish is what it is," Karliz said. "Have you thought of poor Franyi's parents? What will they say when they learn their daughter is degrading herself in sapphic debauchery?" 

"They know, Mrs. Derrigin," Franyi said. "They're glad Ani and I are happy." 

"How will you ever find a husband?" Anise's father asked. 

"I won't. I don't want a husband. Not ever. I want Ani and she wants me, and we're very happy and it's nobody's business…" 

His glasses came off, and behind them his eyes looked weary. "The family has a right to weigh in on these issues, Franyi. The two of you are being profoundly selfish and profoundly foolish…" 

"This was a mistake," Anise said. "I… we should go. I'm sorry I bothered you." 

Anise stood and tugged Franyi's hand and, with only a bit of resistance, she followed after her, down the hallway, into the great room, and toward the foyer. She promised herself that she wouldn't cry and almost immediately broke her word to herself, tears welling up and trickling down her cheeks. Behind her, Anise heard her mother stumbling down the stairs and calling after her. 

"Anise Lyrica Derrigin! You stop right now!" Karliz snapped, but there was a waver to her voice. "Anise Derrigin! Anise! Please, Anise! Please stop!" 

Anise finally turned to face her mother at the threshold to the foyer and saw she was just as teary-eyed as Anise was. She took the last few steps down and walked carefully, as if she was afraid Anise might spook like a deer and dart off at the slightest perturbation. Her heels clicked on the marble of the floor. 

"Anise… please… what did I do wrong?" 

Anise could think of lots of things, but now wasn't the time to be airing old grievances. "Nothing, mom. I'm not a bad person." 

Her mother took a deep breath and closed the last of the distance between them, standing in front of Anise but not quite ready to engage in anything that might be considered affection. "I know. I know you're not a bad person… maybe confused… maybe…" 

"Mother." 

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Karliz forced a teary smile. "This isn't what I wanted for you. But… I'm your mother. I still love you. And I'm afraid that if I let you go I'll never see my girl again." 

The thought had occurred to Anise, as well. "Then don't let me go." 

Karliz nodded. "Fine… fine, I won't. I'll have Aursan-Hero fetch us a bottle of wine. A good one. And we'll talk, and I'll listen… and you'll listen to me, too…" 

"Mother." 

"Don't 'mother' me. I am still your mother. As long as I'm still alive and you still carry the Derrigin name, you will complete your education. Whatever you've gotten yourself into, whether it's a phase or not…" she glanced to Franyi… "it will not ruin the fam- I won't let it ruin my daughter. If you're really a 5th elevation now, you don't need the St. Quillia's name, and we can enroll you somewhere that your indiscretions here won't be held against you." 

That was true. There were plenty of reputable magic schools for young magistresses, even if none had quite the same pedigree as St. Quillia's. There was even Yuya-Sasetù Kachosu P'ona (the Greater Etudium of Yuya-Sasetù), a well-respected school that had recently started admitting women in addition to its traditionally male student body. And, last Anise checked, it was on the St. Arbalest side of the coastal colonies, so she wouldn't even have to purchase a corporate citizenship. 

Of course, she'd be a two-day trip away from Franyi for however long it took her to graduate, which just didn't seem fair. Two years, maybe? That was practically forever. If only there was a closer school. If only there was some other option… and Anise's intuition came trickling in: but there was, wasn't there? There was a closer school. One she hadn't been kicked out of. She reached out and gripped Franyi's hand, her tears suddenly a distant memory. 

"I'm going to enroll in St. Arbalest's," she said. 

OvidLemma

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