There have been difficulties.

  "What do you mean?" I demanded. I was not in the mood for difficulties, you see.

  Sisa Wellen, my point of contact within the Harigold House's operations, shifted uncomfortably. "Well, there was only the one letter."

  I could not afford to be furious, I needed to think. This was no time to throw things around the room. "I think we all know why," I snarled. "But what was the pretext they gave?"

  Sisa was an attractive woman at least twice my age. She dressed in functional trousers and jerkin, traveling clothes. She always looked comfortable and self-assured, but today she was uncomfortable and embarrassed. "They state that your admission was offered and rejected."

  "That was ten years ago!" I blurted. "They sent me those letters when I was far too young to move away from my family to the Academy! They can't just rescind that invitation can they?!"

  "They could, but they claim that they didn't even need to rescind it, since their invitation was rejected." Sisa held up a hand to forestall my next objection. "There is still time to get you enrolled before the semester, however. You are not shut out just because they have not sought you out."

  I breathed deeply, shaking my hands out. I tried to force my stress levels down. I channeled water and steel into myself, to muster coolness, adaptability, strength and control. "All right, I'm good now," I said. "Keep the good news coming."

  "Well, you'd need to complete some basic paperwork. I took the liberty," she said, sliding a folder of documents into my cell. "And, a written academic test. There's no more academic scholarships available this year, we're past that part of the schedule, but if you qualify for that scholarship anyway, you get sidestepped around the usual restrictions on class entry cutoffs. It's in the bylaws, and it's been upheld before. After that, you'll need a recommendation from two of the deans. I don't know what I can do to help with that."

  "I've got that part covered," I said. "Tell me about these bylaws?"

  "I will in a moment," Sisa said, giving me a funny look. "How do you 'have that part covered'?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Three of the deans are from House Pailser. I could ask them for a finger each, a recommendation letter is easy. Now, about this sidestep?"

  A month ago I sold House Pailser the patents for all the designs that Quethron stole from me. Since my ownership of those ideas is a matter of indelible court record, it doesn't matter that all the prior art got lost in the fire. So now he's got to start from scratch, and the one Lesser House that has the most influence at the Academy is grateful to me for putting them back on top of the proxy war against Freckentop House.

  "Ahem, yes, the Hearstcliff Academy normally restricts the number of entries each year," Sisa told me, slipping into a lecturer's voice. "There is a certain number that they take from open admissions, a certain number from merit-based promotions- the letters they send out each year- and a certain number that are guaranteed by noble legacy, and finally the group that is admitted by scholarship. Technically you're guaranteed as a legacy, but also technically that only guarantees you a spot in the preparatory program, which is about two years behind you. If you push your technicality, they'll push theirs, and you get enrolled in middle school instead of earning a degree. Also technically, you're supposed to be guaranteed one of those merit entries, but we've already discussed that. Open admission is over and done. But- the school originally took scholarship admissions only. That was the original charter. Afterwards, they started the other three programs, but they were contingent that they not take up slots dedicated to scholarships. A lot of arcane and outdated language in that charter, but the long and short of it is that if you can score out that exam, they either go over their so-called maximum admissions, or they bump someone else to make room for you. There's been several precedents in the past, and they've always just allowed the extra student. There's enough resources to go around, it's an arbitrary limit with some margin of error."

  "Sounds fine," I said. "I presume that the exam is rated for the smartest and most knowledgeable fifteen-year-olds in the kingdom?"

  "Precisely," Sisa said. "And to qualify you would have to rank very, very high on it."

  "As good as done," I said. "I'm so glad you already had solutions by the time you brought me this problem."

  "Well, not so much," she said. "For one thing, I thought the recommendations would be a sticking point, but you're confident on that point so I'll pass it. The other issue is that, um, you would be qualifying for the scholarship but you would not be receiving it. The school would not be defraying your charges as a student." She looked pained, and she put the knife in. "And, neither will the Harigold family."

  I rolled my eyes. This felt petty.

  "Fine. Why won't my father pay for my school?"

  "Well, you're not disowned or anything, but ... ahem. It is the considered advice of His Grace's attorneys and counsel that due to the reduced revenue of the duchy, that only one ducal heir at a time should be drawing from the ducal expenses for secondary education or related expenses. And, further, that there are means by which your presence could aid the family and House by securing resources if you were to return to the duchy."

  I had to laugh. Not a good laugh, but the kind that hurt my throat to release. "What?! He thinks he's going to bring me home and marry me off? He'd be lucky to get a cadet baronet for me, dowry or no! He knows I'm damaged goods! An incarcerated felon, as the bride-price of an alliance? In a year he'd bundle me off to a nunnery, nobody's going to take that offer. Especially since they wouldn't be able to formalize the arrangement for another five years! Twenty is the minimum for ducal heirs!"

  "Er, various advisers have also pointed out that in purely pragmatic methods, your ladyship could be a great asset. Your father may not be of a mind to consider such at this time, but a few individuals with reason to know have pointed out that your prodigious abilities have always been matched by an eagerness to use them for the aid of others- it is a matter of time before you find a way to convince him of your capacity to help. You are not the only member of your father's inner circle who believes that you are far more valuable as a person in your own right, than as a currency to exchange."

  I paced about the cell a little. "That is very kind of you to say, Sisa. But no, it must be the Academy. But that is also all right, I rather expected this as well."

  "My lady?"

  I gestured vaguely. "Some months ago I offered to assist my father with finances using my own earnings and investments. I was politely, but firmly, turned down. The language used at the time led me to believe that my father did not want any money from me, either as a gift or an arrangement. With his stiff-necked principles, there is no way that he would offer money to someone he will not accept money from, and vice verse. If he will not take a gift, he will not offer one either."

  "So what shall you do?"

  "Well, that money that he wouldn't take from me? That should pay for my schooling."

  "My lady! That- that's a hundred crowns per year!"

  "Really? I understood it was at least twice that."

  "Well- but- yes, my lady, the hundred quoted is for tuition, but expenses, housing, materials, fees and other bits and bobs will more-or-less double that."

  I blew out a sigh. "Oh good. I don't like the unexpected."

  "But how do you have that money my lady? That's the cost - that's a lot of money!"

  "Sisa, I have spent three years ghostwriting the nine most prolific and popular composers of our time. And, the sale of those patents was very profitable."

  "But surely not-" She waved a hand, unable to really articulate it.

  "With plenty to spare," I assure her.

  She shook herself. "All right. My own fault for doubting you, I suppose. Very well. You may have money to spare, but not time. It is the first week of Autumnhigh now, and you have until the end of Autumngone to finalize your paperwork. The application needs to be done first. The exam needs to be done in person, and will have to wait until your sentence expires. And the letters of recommendation. You should probably allow time for processing as well.. by the time you leave this place on your birthday, you will have about three weeks to make all arrangements!"

  "I think you'll find that by that date, my willingness to hold still will be quite gone."

  It was not really a ceremony, but it felt rather like a ceremony to me. There was some paperwork to complete, affirming that I was of sound mind and body and did not have cause to press suit or damages against the High Court or its officials. Yes, you have to promise not to sue them before they'll let you out of prison. These guys really suck. There was an array of people involved. The inquisitor that had replaced Pina, and the warden whom I'd never met. Sir Chaun Maspers was there, since he was the one who had remanded me into their custody in the first place, in a very strict interpretation of events. Three full magisters with staffs. The city clerk, the alderman's representative, and a handful of others that I think were actually just bored and curious.

  They slid the pages under the window to me, and I signed my name. I pushed it back, and they would countersign. Then there were stamps and notaries and official witnesses making their own signatures.. Every single thing was twelve different steps. I was returned all of my personal effects from my arrest, which included the copper pennies I earned from the Swooning Spear, delivering the ensorcelled food. And my clothing, which did not fit me at all. I had been a particularly small twelve-year-old, and now I'm almost five-foot-six. I had been hoping that I would inherit my father's height, but alas.

  I was permitted to keep the clothes that I was currently wearing, technically prison-issue but honestly it would be elegant and high-end on most streets of the city.

  Gedes was with me, standing at my side as my witness and advocate. I was not permitted to appoint my own witness-advocate.

  A final page was stamped. I turned to the man, and he smiled at me. "My lady," he said. "I remain employed by the kingdom's courts. But as their authority over you is now officially ended, we are no longer ward and warden."

  "Gedes, you haven't been a prison guard to me even once," I chuckled. "You've been my rock, many times over."

  I was shocked that he stepped forward and hugged me. I hesitated, and hugged him back. It felt good. I felt my face tighten up, tears threatening again. A release from prison should be marked with a hug. And I'm glad he already knew that because I would not have guessed it for myself.

  "And," he said, reaching for his pocket. "Happy birthday, my lady."

  "What." I was stunned. He pulled out a small jewelry box, and pressed it to my hand. "You can't give me a present, Gedes! That's-"

  "Even if your heart is weary, you are a fifteen-year-old girl, starting today," he said firmly. "You can take a birthday present. Open it later."

  Okay, so I had a lot of thoughts about that, and most of them were turning into liquid and filling up my eyes right then, so much that I almost forgot I was in the middle of a very momentous occasion.

  The leader of the magisters harrumphed importantly. "Now, my lady, there are a great number of wards that we will need to dispel before your magical capacities are returned to you, and the sooner we get started the sooner - what?"

  Oh my god, the look on his face. I had reached up while he was talking, and took the golden torc off my neck. I set it down on the counter. To my complete delight, Gedes looked just as shocked as the magister.

  "What?" i said, after freeing myself from the impossible magical restraints. "I told you all on my first day back: I return of my own free will, I serve my sentence according to my honor as a Harigold."

  Sir Chaun stared at the collar, then at me. "Wait," he said, his voice swelling with impish anticipation. He looked so gleeful, like he was seeing the payoff of a three-year long prank. "Tell me that you could have taken that off any time in the past three years!"

  "I frequently did," I told him, stage-whispering for everyone to hear. "I rarely slept with it on, it's not comfortable."

  Everyone stared down at the sigil-scribed collar that had nullified my powers, but only because I chose to keep it on me.

  Gedes cleared his throat. "For my own sake, my lady, please do tell me how."

  "Everyone was being so very careful at the time. Making sure that there was no misunderstandings. Inquisitor Pina was showing me exactly which sigils restrict my powers and which ones controlled its other functions. So, she pointed straight the sigils that keep the necklace from opening. And after that nobody was paying attention. I take it nobody told any of you that one of the essences I hold affinity for is gold, right?"

  "You altered the collar right in front of us before we put it on you?" Sir Chaun said, grinning with a sort of impish pride.

  "I did."

  "And we didn't catch it?" I think he was allowed that pride: he held the title as the only person who's ever held me against my will.

  "People were very distracted at the time," I pointed out. "Everyone was paying more attention to security than to me. One gesture?..." I shrugged, nobody had really paid attention. After all, I was there of my own free will. I'd surrendered myself to their custody. It would be ridiculous to assume I was already planning my next breakout, right?

  The inquisitor looked less amused than Sir Chaun. "I'm deeply relieved that you waited until after you were officially free and released before you showed us that," he said, sounding tired. I have that effect on some people.

  I hugged Gedes again, and he opened the cell door for me for the second time ever, and with a sizable escort and honor guard we marched to the stairs and out of the tower, descending to the courtyard.

  I held my breath as the big doors were pulled open, and Gedes patted me on the shoulder as I walked out into free air, underneath the star-sky of the massive geode cavern. The air overhead was crisscrossed with bridges, arches, pipes, ziplines, gondolas and a few flying mages. I let myself really take it in for the first time. I looked all around, the carven buildings, the perfect domes, the bright colors in this perpetual twilight.

  "Welcome to Hearstcliff," said a familiar voice.

  I whirled, and actually smiled. "Yheta! I thought you wouldn't show!"

  He smiled, and patted the door of the rented carriage. "Visitor passes are no good on release days, I had to sit outside like a plebian. No matter! Let's get you something to eat, check you in at an inn, find you some essentials and show you around! First: to the shopping district!"

  I took two steps. I paused. I looked back. Waved to Gedes one last time, nodded to Sir Chaun, and then climbed into the carriage. I could already tell which of those two men I was not seeing for the last time.