Free Caught in Crystal: A Lyra Novel by Patricia Collins Wrede

wait for it to break after Islorran raises the taxes again.”
    Bryn nodded understanding. She sat down on the floor and began pulling tools from her leather pouch. Corrana raised an eyebrow. “May I assume from that that your Prefect’s man has left, and not altogether happily?”
    “Exactly,” Kayl said. “Though it might have been much worse without Your Virtue’s assistance. I thank you for your timely help.”
    “My presence here gave rise to the incident,” Corrana said. “The least I could do was aid you.”
    “Your Virtue is too kind.”
    “There is no need to use the formal title. I insist on proper address only when it seems… necessary.”
    Kayl thought of Utrilo and smiled in spite of herself. Bryn looked up from her carpentry and said, “If that’s your rule, you’ll have to resign yourself to being ‘Your Virtued’ for as long as you’re in Mindaria.”
    “Perhaps you are right,” Corrana said. “I must admit that I had not expected such a scene as that. Why is this Prefect Islorran so obsessed with Shee?”
    Bryn sniffed. “It’s not the Shee he’s interested in, it’s magic. He’ll do anything to get his hands on a little more of it.”
    “He expects the Shee to give him knowledge for the asking?” Corrana said skeptically. “He could not be such a fool!”
    Kayl and Bryn exchanged glances. “I don’t think you understand,” Kayl said. “Since Mindaria left the Estarren Alliance, the nonhuman races have not been kindly looked on. Islorran doesn’t have to ask politely.”
    Corrana’s lips tightened. “I see. I had not thought the taint would have reached here so soon.”
    “It’s been eight or ten years since Mindaria recalled its representative to the Senate, and things weren’t exactly good then,” Bryn said.
    “And since?”
    “It’s gotten worse.” Bryn shrugged. “Travel restrictions, taxes, all sorts of things. That’s why there are so few of us left in Mindaria.”
    “What?” Corrana looked startled and dismayed.
    “They’ve gone elsewhere,” Kayl said in a matter-of-fact tone. “No Shee has passed through Copeham for at least five years, and this used to be a regular stop for them. It’s not as bad for Wyrds; the King of Mindaria values their woodworking too highly to allow more than minor harassments.”
    “You mean, it wasn’t as bad,” Bryn corrected. “Islorran’s father, the old Prefect, was a decent man, for a human. Islorran’s another matter.”
    “So it has reached even here,” Corrana said softly. She looked at Bryn. “Why do you stay?”
    Bryn gave her a long, unblinking stare. “I don’t plan to,” she said, and turned back to the bench-leg.
    “What do you mean?” Kayl said.
    “I mean that Alden, Xaya, and I will be leaving Copeham within a month,” Bryn said. “For good.”
    “Why now?”
    “Because I can see what’s coming, and so can every other Shee and Wyrd and Neira with eyes. Ever since Darkwater, none of us have had any illusions about what this sort of thing leads to.”
    Kayl shuddered. The memory of the Darkwater Massacre was over forty years old, but its horror still lingered. Nearly a thousand Wyrds, Shee, and Neira had been killed by Prince Fazendin, tortured to death in a desperate attempt to extract magical secrets they did not possess. The Estarren Alliance, led by Kith Alunel, had retaliated, razing Fazendin’s home, sowing his fields with salt, and leaving the Prince himself stretched on his own rack for the crows to feast on. “Even Islorran wouldn’t condone a slaughter!” Kayl objected.
    “He won’t get the chance,” Bryn replied, calmly measuring the disassembled bench-legs and marking the results down on a small wax tablet. “By the time he thinks of it, we’ll all be gone. I’d have left long ago, but Xaya wasn’t old enough to travel.”
    “Where will you go?” Corrana asked. “Bridden?”
    “No, not Bridden, or even Kith Alunel. Not that Kith Alunel isn’t well disposed toward