The Will of the Empress - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,17

my face."

As Tris obeyed, Briar looked at Daja and shrugged.

Daja smiled reluctantly. That's right, Daja thought. Tris gets really frightened, and then she bites the heads off of people. I had forgotten.

I wonder what else I've forgotten — about Tris. About Sandry, and Briar.

I hope I remember really, really fast.

*

Sandry was livid. Had she been less aware of what she owed to the people around her, she would have shaken Tris until her teeth rattled. Furious as she was, she still remembered one of her uncle's most often-repeated lessons: "Never express anger with a friend or a subordinate in public," Vedris always said. "They might forgive a private expression of anger or a deserved scolding, but they never forget a public humiliation. It is the surest way to destroy a friendship and to create enemies."

The caravan found a wide cove off the road where they could halt to collect themselves and calm the children and the animals. Sandry then went to give Tris a piece of her mind. The mimander beat her there. He had backed Tris up against a tall stone by the road, his yellow-robed body shielding her from onlookers. Sandry moved to the side of the stone to eavesdrop.

"The world does not appreciate such stunts," the man told Tris softly but fiercely. "Do you know the harm you could do with such dangerous magic? What if a wagon had rolled, or if animals had fallen? When you scry a thing, you announce it immediately — you do not stage a panic in mid-river! I mean to file a complaint with Winding Circle —"

"They will tell you your complaint has no merit." Tris's voice was low and cold. "I did not scry this. As soon as I knew it was coming, I told everyone with the ears to hear. Forgive me if I did not consult you. There was no time.

"What am I supposed to believe, kaq?" demanded the mimander. He'd used the most insulting term for a non-Trader there was. "Did you see it on the wind, like some fabled mage of old? I suppose you — a child! — expect me to believe that!"

"Go away. Tell your bookkeeper goddess you'd rather question the debt you owe me for your life than consider ways to repay me!" snapped Tris. "On second thought, don't bother! There's no coin small enough I'd consider worthwhile exchange for your life!"

Sandry smothered a gasp and pressed herself into a crevice behind the rock that hid her. Is she mad? Sandry wondered, horrified. If she were a Trader he'd have to kill her for so many insults! She said he was questioning his gods for letting him live. Then she told him not to bother repaying her — a Trader, not to repay! — and then she told him his life isn't worth anything!

Finally the mimander replied, his voice shaking. "I expect no better of a kaq."

He walked away.

Sandry's temper blazed again. Tris not only orders us around like the Queen of Everything, but she insults our hosts! I have to remind her she used to have manners!

She yanked herself out of her crevice, shook her riding breeches clean of the leaf-litter that had collected there, look a deep breath, and walked around the rock. Tris had left it, to sit on a fallen tree next to the spring nearby. She patiently held one side of her snood, Chime the other, as her braids twined around each other, forming a snug ball. There was no way to tell now which had carried lightning and which had been lightning. Even the two thin braids that framed her face were neatly done up and tied again.

Sandry halted in front of her. "Never have I given you the right to order me around. Neither have Briar or Daja. And we have certainly not given you the right to throw lightning at us." Despite her resolve to be firm, her voice quivered.

Tris's eyes flicked to Sandry dangerously, though Tris's hold on the snood remained steady as her braids moved and wriggled to fit themselves inside. "Pardon me for not kissing your hand and saying pretty please, since that's what you're used to these days," she replied, acid dripping in her voice. "Had I known I would offend, Clehame" — she turned Sandry's Namornese title into an insult — "I would have let everyone die so I wouldn't inconvenience you."

"I know you are ever so much more clever and educated than the rest of us, but it's not