Lady of Stone, page 14
“Go back in,” Timmony cried as Thana called, “Watch out for—”
Sylph lost the rest of their words as a pyramid took flight. It wasn’t the siren, but she reached for it anyway. In her mind, its invisible presence was as bright as a shooting star.
At a brush of her mind, it detonated, and the sky overhead cracked, the sound washing over Sylph in a rush of air. Countess Carisse cried out, several other voices with her, but hers faded behind the boom of a closing door.
Sylph struggled to rise as the relief from touching the pyramid faded. The siren was still out there, and she had to get away from it before she hurt someone. “Thana?”
“Let me go, curse you, she needs me.”
Sylph nearly wept at the words. Thana was coming. Thana would save her. Again came all those feelings she didn’t have names for. With her mind occupied, her heart ran free, wanting Thana, needing her like a garden needed the sun.
Then she was there, merely a shadow in the night, but Sylph knew her.
“Are you all right?” Thana asked, her touch fluttering around Sylph’s face, her hair. She tried to kiss those quick fingers but couldn’t manage it. “Sylph? Did they hurt you?”
“Pyramids. They…” Thana had some on her, too, but their pull was nothing compared to what was coming closer. Oh spirits, what if she killed them both?
“Easy, Sylph, breathe. Here.”
Smooth pyramid crystal pressed against her palm, but it felt like dead stone as the siren tried to claim her mind.
“It’s light, Sylph. Remember? Light it. Hold on, please.”
“It’s coming,” Sylph whispered, and she felt the destruction at the siren’s core. She wouldn’t be able to retune it. It would swallow her before that, forcing her to ignite its fiery heart and take them both, take them all, the manor and all the world.
Soft lips landed on hers, a fierce pressure, desperate hunger. She could see no more than shadow, but as with the pyramid, she could feel Thana beyond the kiss, feel the heat of her body, of her breath, the way she cradled Sylph’s face with tenderness but also need. A distraction, yes, but also a release. The way Thana’s mouth moved said she’d imagined this kiss many times.
Sylph had imagined something like it, too, ever since she’d known what kissing was, and this was nothing like she’d expected while being so much better.
The siren faded to a pinprick of distant light as the pyramid in her hand blazed. The siren was just a tool, carried by someone who had more tools at their disposal, all of which could be weapons.
But she was not helpless.
She threaded a hand through Thana’s hair as she warped the pyramid in her hand, retuning it as she’d done in the manor and calling through it to the stone. The ground rumbled, and she brought part of the manor wall arching around them, shielding them from all the world.
Chapter Twelve
Thana had been wild with the idea that Sylph needed a distraction, that the light pyramid wasn’t enough, but she’d been drawn to kiss her for more reasons than that.
Sylph seemed to need it.
For comfort, yes, but also to know that someone saw her struggle, cared about her and wanted to help. As much as Thana had been jealous of Sylph’s power, she’d also been sympathetic about the way Sylph felt forced to use it. Thana had been forced into enough situations in her life to resent them on another’s behalf.
And of course, Thana had really, really wanted to kiss her, too.
When Sylph had kissed her back, Thana had melted, forgetting the danger, the questions. The earth seemed to shift around them, and when she finally drew back from Sylph’s soft lips, she was surprised to find it really had moved, creating a little dome over them, with a hint of light coming from one side where the stone sloped downward.
Sylph’s stone power. Of course. Thana’s cheeks heated at the thought that she’d ever assumed differently, even for a moment. Then she also realized the barrier wouldn’t stop an explosive pyramid for long.
She scooted nearer the hole and called, “Come out and give up, or we’ll blow up the rest of your pyramids. You’ve already seen it once.”
A beat of silence passed, then another. Sylph groaned, and Thana knew that no matter how much stone she manipulated or how many kisses she received, she’d eventually be compelled to touch the enemy pyramids again, maybe to vaporize everyone.
“Come out or retreat,” Thana yelled. “I know you’re still out there.” She licked her lips, trying to think of something to make them respond, that would let her know where they were. Even Timmony had gone silent.
“One of you talked about a traitor,” she called. “If you’re talking about me, why didn’t the queen come herself?”
“The queen can’t protect you any longer.”
Thana peered into the darkness of the forest, trying to determine where the voice was coming from, but sound echoed strangely in the dark. She frowned, trying to think of what the words could mean. So it was her they were looking for? But if this pyradisté thought the queen had been protecting her before, whom was she a traitor to exactly?
“Just…get out of here,” she yelled. “Or give up. She’ll blow you to the spirits if you don’t.” Something brushed her leg. Sylph was trying to sit up. Would moving make the desire to reach for the pyramids better or worse? Thana clasped her hand, fear rising but not for herself, for what it would do to Sylph if she had to hurt someone.
A cry came from the forest, then a shout, the words lost in pain or anger.
Sylph’s grip tightened on Thana’s. “It’s coming closer.”
“Fuck,” Thana muttered. Any closer and an explosive pyramid might hurt the people inside the manor, too, but by the way Sylph’s breathing grew sharper, that was inevitable.
Thana bit her lip, torn. Sylph seemed to fear hurting people more than anything, but what choice did they have when it was between the two of them, the innocents in the manor, and some idiot determined to attack? With her heart in her throat, she leaned toward Sylph’s ear. “Do it.”
Sylph sucked in a great breath, then slumped as if all the air had left her.
An explosion rocked the night outside, and light gleamed through the hole in a blinding flash. Thana cried out and curled over Sylph as the ground shook, and tiny flecks of stone trickled from the dome.
But nothing crashed atop them, and Thana opened one eye, blind in the dark. When a soft orange glow came from the opening, she launched herself forward. The forest was alight, the heat from the flames billowing toward the manor and filling the air with smoke and a high-pitched whistle as the fire pulled in the surrounding air.
“Sylph, there’s a fire. Can you use your power to smother it?”
Sylph nodded weakly, and the dome around them fell away, the blocks collapsing outward. The earth of the forest lapped into the trees, smothering the fire and looking for all the world as if the land was eating itself.
Thana shook the thought away, stopped marveling at the sheer power, and rubbed Sylph’s shoulders for a lack of anything else to do. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She rubbed her neck as she sat up, her pyramid clutched in one hand. Light from the fire dappled across her as the flames died. Her face was tight and pained. She cradled her head and winced. Thana helped steady her. “It’s not so bad with that…siren pyramid gone.”
“You just felt one?” Thana frowned, but Sylph didn’t elaborate. This siren she was talking about might have been unique simply because Sylph hadn’t encountered its type before, but after her reaction at the academy, Thana bet it was made with the new crystal.
She looked at the dying fire. Rows of broken trees stabbed the sky like spears. Every pyramid the faceless attacker had been carrying must have gone off when Sylph touched her siren. When the fire dribbled out, darkness returned, though the smoke diffused the moonlight, brightening the yard as it put the forest in a haze.
Thana marveled at the woman in her arms. For her, accomplishing the impossible took far less focus than simply not using her power. “You did wonderfully.”
Sylph moved, her eyes glinting. “I killed someone.”
“You didn’t have a choice.”
Sylph shifted away, and guilt stabbed at Thana’s heart. She hoped that wouldn’t be a scar between them.
Something moved at the forest’s edge. “If you’re finished doing…whatever the hell that was, would you mind helping me?” Timmony called, his voice sharp with fear and anger.
Thana stood and took a few steps toward him, not feeling particularly charitable. After all, he’d tried to prevent her from going to Sylph’s aid. He’d whispered something about keeping under cover to avoid attack, but she hadn’t cared about his reasons.
He and another person dragged someone else into the yard…which was now significantly larger than it had been with the flattened trees. “What in the spirits’ names happened?” He dumped his burden and gestured wildly, as if trying to take flight. “You asked about the queen, and that man said she couldn’t protect you. From what? Who were they? What happened with that fire, the soil? What…are you?”
Thana didn’t know where or how to begin. She nodded at the lump and Timmony’s helper. “Who are they?”
“This is Jamie, one of the grooms,” he said slowly, as if she was an idiot. “You tell me who in the spirits’ names this is?” His finger stabbed toward the lump before he threw his arms in the air. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. This clearly has nothing to do with the manor or Carisse, so you need to leave.”
The way he pointed imperiously toward the forest almost made her laugh, and his use of the countess’s name confirmed that she was more to him than just an employer. “I don’t know who these people are or what they wanted, but they’re clearly…” She pointed at the destruction, at the lump in the grass. “Dealt with. We can’t go anywhere right now. It’s the middle of the night, and we’re both exhausted and…” She’d been about to say hurt, but she made herself stop, not wanting him to know how close Sylph seemed to falling over. “Tired,” she finished lamely. “And I’d like to search your captive and try to find out what happened. Did you find anyone else?”
She bent over the lump, trying to see his features, but she didn’t know if she’d recognize the person she’d hit before. If the others weren’t dead, surely that last fiery explosion had driven them off.
“We found one more, dead,” Jamie said. “And I saw two others blown up. And Owen, the other groom. They only wounded me, but they got him.”
“There, you see?” Timmony asked. “You’ve done enough damage. Go.”
Thana took several deep breaths. “We can’t go in the middle of the night.” She put a hand to her pocket, to the fire pyramid she’d…liberated from an enemy who was probably dead. She didn’t want to use it, not on someone who was simply frightened. And she couldn’t threaten him with Sylph. Thana had wanted to prove that Sylph was more than a living weapon. That was why she’d sneaked her out of the palace in the first place.
And then she’d used her as one.
Thana made a fist and held her temper in check. “Look, I can’t explain right now. I barely understand what’s going on myself, but we’re…no threat to you.” They would probably continue to attract threats, but she made herself keep that thought inside. “Please, have pity. We’ll be gone in the morning.”
She could see his shoulders moving as he breathed, and she prayed to the spirits of wisdom that he would back off. Finally, he shook his head and said, “You can sleep in the stable. Jamie, you come in the house with us.” He pointed at Thana again. “Don’t try to follow us.”
She nodded, though anger burned in her to tell him that she and Sylph could come in any time they wished, right through the wall, but she told herself not to be cocky.
Guilt should keep her from that.
As Timmony hurried past her and knocked on the door, speaking softly to someone on the other side, Thana put her hands on her hips and looked toward the stable. It didn’t seem secure, but if the night had proved anything, it was that they weren’t safe anywhere.
And if the attackers came back, she and Sylph could ride away while the manor was attacked again.
The thought satisfied her and made her guilty at the same time. She wouldn’t run if they needed her help again…though she wouldn’t be happy about it. Maybe a little smug that she and Sylph could do what Timmony couldn’t.
She shook her head. If a jumble of feelings told her anything, it was that she was too tired to think clearly.
After a deep breath to settle herself, she helped Sylph into the stable. They didn’t speak, though Sylph leaned on Thana’s shoulder, so she couldn’t be that upset. In the stable, a lit candle sat on a small box behind a partition, illuminating one of the groom’s beds: a blanket on top of a pallet of clean straw. Thana lowered Sylph onto it and moved a jug of water and a cup closer. Sylph only leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
Thana bit her lip but didn’t speak. She took the candle as she left the room. The horses were whickering and shifting in their stalls, eyes rolling, no doubt scared stiff by the noise and the smell of smoke, but they weren’t kicking the place down, so Thana supposed they were all right.
She headed outside and set the candle near the captive’s head. She didn’t know if this was the one she’d felled, but it didn’t matter. This one was dead, his head caved in. Maybe Timmony had thought he still lived, or maybe he’d dragged him out in order to search for clues. Whichever, Thana went through his pockets, trying not to think of him as a dead body, trying not to dwell on the fact that she’d never killed anyone before that day, and now she had several deaths on her conscience, and staying near Sylph might mean more.
This body had several more pyramids hidden in its clothes, so it wasn’t the person she’d hit. The explosion or smoke had done that one in, or he was still lying unconscious in the forest. She didn’t want to look for him, not really, didn’t want to know, but she took the candle anyway and headed into the smoke. If he was alive, she could help, maybe get some answers, maybe assuage her conscience. If anyone else lingered, she’d make a handy target, but she deserved a little pain for all of this.
But did she deserve to die?
After a sigh, she hurried but stayed low. She didn’t remember where exactly he’d been. How could she possibly find—
Through a gap in the foliage, she saw a foot, the boot still smoking.
“Oh, spirits.” Retching, she turned and voided the countess’s nice dinner into the bushes. As if summoned, the scent of charred meat wafted past her nostrils. She threw up again, gagging. Meat, yes, it was only meat. Nothing else. Not a person, just an accident with a campfire.
She was almost tired enough to believe that.
In the clearing again, she sank to the grass and leaned her head against her knees, breathing, thinking. If she was a traitor, but not to the queen, what was happening? Did other pyradistés consider her a traitor for working with the Umbriels, the people who told the academy what they could and couldn’t do?
She clenched a fist. She’d always considered herself part of the solution. The more people who saw the Umbriels embracing magic, the fewer thought magic was something to be feared or outlawed. Pyradistés couldn’t be the traitorous usurpers of yesteryear if the queen took them to her bosom.
Well…kind of.
After all, Queen Earnhilt had been the one to casually suggest killing Sylph and locking away every other pyradisté “for their own protection.” Thana grimaced. Instead of staying and advocating for them, she’d taken Sylph and ran.
And the other pyradistés didn’t know that Sylph was in danger. If Earnhilt had begun her mass incarceration, the academy might think Thana was either in on the plan or had run to save herself without warning anyone.
After she’d robbed the head of the academy, no less.
She groaned, wondering what other shambles she’d left in her wake.
But, a little voice reminded her, the head of the academy hadn’t told her about this new crystal, so he’d stopped trusting her long before she’d complicated everything. And then when she’d pilfered his pyramids, he’d made up his mind to have her followed, captured, maybe even killed.
He probably thought she was out here recruiting nobles for the queen’s anti-pyradisté cause or was arresting the pyradistés spread throughout the countryside, like Timmony.
Or it was simpler than that. The head had found out she’d heard about the new crystal, feared she would tell the queen, and set these pyradistés on her trail. Maybe he’d told them she was a traitor to get them to go, or they’d come to that conclusion themselves.
Thana sighed and rubbed her temples. What a mess. One she wasn’t going to figure out tonight.
With a tired groan, she stood and went back into the stable. Sylph still sat against the wall, and her eyes opened as Thana entered. In the faint light, her light green eyes seemed almost colorless. A tiny smile seemed to ghost across her lips, but that could have been the way the candlelight flickered across her face. She lay down on the pallet, shifting so there was room for two.
Thana blew out the candle and lay beside her, putting her captured pyramids close to hand. Memories of the kiss danced across her thoughts as they lay shoulder to shoulder. She began to drift, smiling wryly at the idea that they were sharing a bed after all, but it was nothing like she’d imagined.
* * *
Sylph’s eyes drifted open, and confusion reigned.
The ceiling above her was bare wood, and she smelled straw and horses. The air felt heavy, each muted gust carrying the scent of smoke and char.
And someone was lying beside her.
Of all the times she’d slept outdoors with her father’s retinue, no one had ever slept beside her in her enormous tent. But then, she’d never slept on a bed of straw, either.
If one had to sleep on chaff, she supposed it was nice to have company.
