Lady of Stone, page 16
“After all that’s happened,” she said, forcing herself not to yell, “do you really believe you can ignore your gift? There is another fight going on around us, some conflict between pyradistés and the Umbriels, and we can’t avoid it forever.” She lifted her arms, then dropped them and shook her head. “Well, I’m the only one who’s truly caught. If you leave me now, you might be spared until the queen remembers you. Or if Headmaster Cyrus gets hold of you, spirits know what he’ll force you to do.” A wave of sadness washed over her, and she turned away, not willing to show how vulnerable this irritating woman made her. “And since you haven’t left me yet, I thought you’d realized all of that.” Cursed tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked them back. Had she been this soppy before their kissing session?
Sylph didn’t respond, and the seconds drifted by, marked only by the sound of hooves through the foliage. Thana couldn’t look at her, not knowing which expression she might see. She didn’t know what would be worse, that she’d affected Lady Sylph or that she hadn’t.
* * *
As Thana nudged her horse forward, the chance to speak passed along with her. Sylph couldn’t help feeling grateful for that even as she berated herself for not saying what she was feeling.
As if she could. What would Thana say if Sylph admitted that being together filled her insides with embers? That being with Thana was like discovering a new world, one she’d been certain existed only in myth? When Thana had suggested that Sylph leave her, it had felt like a blow. How could she abandon this marvelous new world just as she clapped eyes on it?
And why had she said what she had, why draw a wall around herself again? Deep inside, she knew she could not be rid of her “gift” and return to her old life. But stubbornly, she wanted to find a way to ignore it, and she and Thana could be…
Mistress and servant?
Employer and pyradisté?
Noble and shabby little secret?
Sylph would never let her raven be seen that way.
And she should say so. But she was still her father’s daughter and would always be. When they weren’t writhing on top of each other, there would always be…considerations.
Still, she couldn’t just quit this field without a word. Thana deserved more. She took a breath, paused, then took another as the words deserted her. She would not say, “thank you,” again, curse it.
“Thana…” When she felt the flutter of a pyramid on the edge of her mind, she rejoiced even as she named herself a coward.
Thana turned in her saddle, her hopefulness prompting heartache.
“Someone behind us is carrying a pyramid,” Sylph said. “I just felt it. If you like…I’ll use the detector. I can’t tell which kind it is yet.”
“No need,” Thana said softly, her expression saying she recognized the gesture, at least, but she probably wasn’t ready to forgive. “If it’s not pulling at you, it’s not one of the new ones we’re really worried about.” She gripped her pyramid, and her eyes took on a vacant cast. “There are a few that…ow!” She rocked in her saddle as if struck, and her pyramid went dark.
Sylph reached to take her reins as she put a hand to her head and winced. “What is it?”
“Spirits-cursed bastards canceled my pyramid,” she said with a growl. “Hurts like a dozen wasp stings.” She flinched. “I probably made it easy for them somehow.” She blushed, the pretty effect ruined by the shame in her eyes.
A peculiar feeling raced through Sylph’s veins, similar to what she’d felt for the courtiers who’d sought to snub Thana, but this was so much more. No one made her raven feel less than she was.
She turned her focus behind again, watching that way as if she could see through the trees. Canceled, was it? She pictured a pyramid with a blanket pulled over the top, but that garnered her nothing. “What does it feel like?”
“A cancelation pyramid? I don’t have one. Why?”
“I’ll use theirs against them.”
“From a distance?” She laughed. “You can’t possibly…” After clearing her throat, she spoke again, awe in her voice. “Let’s see if you can. It shows all surrounding pyramids as bright lights, and you have the power to snuff them like candles. It feels…dark, consuming.”
It was enough. Sylph searched through the pyramids with nothing but her mind. Fire, detection, light, all these she ignored until she sensed one that seemed like a blank spot among the others, an absence of pyramids cast in pyramid shape. She sensed it reaching toward her and Thana like the tentacles of some beast, but as she touched them, they crumpled like paper. Following them was as easy as breathing, and there she was, inside the pyramid that cast them.
One by one, she snuffed the surrounding pyramids as easily as if she threw them to the ground. Then she turned this pyramid killer in on itself, shutting it off like a closing door as she withdrew.
Someone howled among the trees, someone closer than expected.
Thana held her darkened pyramid, her eyes wide. “Did you…you did, didn’t you? You’re like…like pyramid magic brought to life.” She leaned forward as if to stress her words. “No matter what happens, Sylph, you can’t repress a gift like yours. It would be like destroying art, silencing music, taking every actor who ever walked a stage and—”
Sylph held up a hand, not knowing whether to be flattered or terrified by such a speech. “We should be going, should we not? They sound close and are no doubt angry.”
Indeed, the pounding of hoofbeats thundered behind them. Thana turned her horse, and Sylph put heels to her mount, and they created their own echoes in the trees.
* * *
Fleeing for their lives had one point in its favor: Thana didn’t have time to think about her spirits-cursed feelings.
She gripped the reins until her hands felt numb. With every shuddering step, she felt as if she might be jolted from the saddle. Sylph pulled up beside her as if having no trouble keeping her seat, but as she’d said, nobles often hunted, so she was probably as accomplished at riding as she was at many things that didn’t matter.
Until someone chased them through the woods.
Sylph glanced back, her hair streaming like a cape. Her eyes went wide, and she looked to Thana as if for help. Thana thought that if she glanced back, she’d lose her grip for sure, or her horse would run into a tree.
As if she was steering now.
She risked a look and spied a halo of golden hair with a tinge of red that framed a strong, handsome face. Only one person looked that good while riding breakneck through a forest.
Gunnar.
Thana slowed her horse before realizing he might not have come as a friend. But even with all that had happened, she had to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Thana?” He pulled up his own steed, and the Order of Vestra followed suit, including a face Thana hadn’t seen before, one that glowered at her. The stranger had a blond ponytail lying over one shoulder, wore a satchel around her skinny frame—a pyradisté, then—and she seemed far from happy.
“What are you doing here?” Gunnar and Thana asked at the same time. Both scowled before saying, “No, what are you doing here?”
On Gunnar’s left, Dina laughed. As muscled as someone from a strength chapterhouse, she wore the white of a love and beauty monk. With a grin on her exquisite face, she said, “Sounds like you two never parted.” When Gunnar glared at her, Thana resisted the urge to do the same, not wanting to invite further comparison.
“Did you come out here after me?” Thana asked. “I won’t help you or your mother lock pyradistés up or kill them.”
“You didn’t give me a chance to convince her to do otherwise.”
“Have you done so now?” He blinked before opening his mouth. She wasn’t interested in hearing excuses. “Why did you cancel my pyramid?” she asked.
“You canceled all of mine,” the pyradisté said with a snarl. “How in the world did you do that?”
Gunnar held up a hand. “It’s gotten worse in Marienne, Than. More accidents and some attacks that don’t seem like accidents at all. We’ve been chasing a pack of rogue pyradistés and thought you might be them.”
“Before we realized it was you,” Dina said. “Because we wouldn’t attack you.” The mercenary twins, Ivar and Illis, nodded with her.
Thana felt tears prick her eyes. She hadn’t let herself think of what the consequences of her actions might be as far as her comrades were concerned. They didn’t want to hurt her, and she almost couldn’t breathe for relief and gratitude.
Gunnar seemed as if he might have more angry words, but after a glance at Sylph, he sighed and dismounted. “Let’s set up camp. Seems we have a lot to talk about.”
Thana looked at Sylph, who had her placid noble mask firmly in place. Thana wondered how much Gunnar would share with her and how Sylph would react. Perhaps knowing her prince consorted with peasants and regularly fought by their side would loosen her up a little.
There was one way to find out. She and Sylph dismounted, but Gunnar nodded toward the trees, then headed that way as the Order began setting camp.
Thana gave Sylph a small signal to stay put before following Gunnar. He stopped near an elm, and she said, “We haven’t seen any pyradistés today, but a group attacked us last night, claiming that the queen couldn’t protect me anymore.”
His mouth closed, and he frowned hard. “I…wasn’t expecting to hear that.”
“I just wanted you to know that whoever is making the purposeful attacks you mentioned seems to be after me, too.” She sighed. “Unless we have two enemies.”
His smile was lopsided. “Ever the optimist. I never thought of you as my enemy, Than. I hope you know that.”
She felt those cursed tears again. “Not even when I abandoned you to help someone I’d just met?”
“Oh, for spirits’ sake.” He pulled her into a rough hug. “Yes, I was angry. I understood, but I was mad, just like you were. But now we’re both here. Let’s work together. And I promise not to kill your lady if you promise not to overthrow my mother.”
She laughed into his shoulder. “Deal.”
“So have you kissed her, yet?”
“Spirits above,” she said as he pulled away. “Is your mind ever truly out of your trousers?”
“We’re talking about your trousers, not mine, and that blush tells me there are stories to be told.”
She rolled her eyes. “Can we talk about the kingdom’s problems first?”
“I can wait,” he said, glancing at where Sylph stood. “Can you?”
She didn’t answer, knowing he could help with her Sylph problems but unwilling to bring them up when the kingdom might be at stake. “Later.”
“I will hold you to that, and I won’t even try to seduce her, on my honor.”
She wanted to laugh in his face and tell him to try his luck, but even the thought was too much, and when he grinned, she knew she was being baited. “Shut up, Gun.”
* * *
Sylph didn’t know where to look, let alone what to do. Prince Gunnar had arrived and didn’t seem to be acting like his normal, carefree self. He hadn’t attempted to flirt with her at all. Instead, he’d taken Thana aside to have a quiet conversation while his servants set up camp.
Except they didn’t act like servants. Retainers, perhaps, or bodyguards. But none bowed to her. They simply gave her curious looks. Perhaps they didn’t recognize her.
Preposterous.
They were all armed, even the beauty monk, and all seemed as disinclined to speak to her as she was to them. At least that was a positive.
But one of the dark-haired men stepped toward her, and she resisted the urge to back away. Like the other man, he wore a leather coat sewn with metal disks and had a general appearance of unkemptness. The two looked nearly identical, clearly brothers, except this one’s cheeks bore pockmarks under his startling green eyes.
“Are you thirsty, Miss…” He raised his eyebrows.
Miss? She nearly sputtered.
His smile turned a little hesitant. “My name is Ivar. That’s my brother Illis.” The other nodded from where he was putting up a tent. “And our compatriot Dina.” The monk gave a little wave. “And our new friend, Calla.” He pointed to the pyradisté, who snorted, still glaring at Thana and Prince Gunnar. No doubt she thought Thana had disabled her pyramids. For once, Sylph had a strong desire to admit that it had been her. It seemed only fair that she finally be the one to instill fear in someone else.
But she didn’t need magic to do that. She’d been born into power. She began to admit her title but hesitated, all at sea when it came to who was allowed to know what amongst the prince’s peasant companions.
“Sylph,” she said. Someone had once mentioned that the name had grown in popularity since her birth. Naming a child after the nobility supposedly brought luck.
Ivar’s smile widened, and he held out a water skin. “Good to meet you, Miss Sylph.”
She took a small sip. “And you, Ivar. Tell me, how do you come to ride with the prince?”
“Companions of old,” he said.
He wasn’t a noble, and she didn’t know any courtiers who wore armor. Some of the queen’s cronies did, those who’d fought beside her during the Troubles, but he seemed too young for that. Perhaps all these people knew the Umbriels through Thana and her position as royal pyradisté. But why would the prince bother with them?
And why hadn’t they asked why she was riding with Thana?
Because they already knew. They were agents of the queen who wished her dead, and she’d been a fool.
Sylph struggled to keep her face neutral as her heart thundered. Ivar hadn’t needed to ask her name, but it had put her off-guard enough to drink the water. She handed the skin back woodenly.
His eyes seemed to glitter as he took it, and a tinny sound filled her ears. Any moment, the forest would spin as darkness descended, and she hadn’t even had a chance to tell Thana that—
Ivar took a long pull from the skin, and sound returned to normal, the only upsetting thing being that he hadn’t wiped the spout first.
“Sylph?” Thana asked as she rejoined them. “Are you all right?”
“Perfectly,” she managed.
“Good. Come on. Let’s all sit down together. We’ve got some information to share.”
Sylph wanted to ask, “With people who want to kill me?” But she wasn’t dead yet. And she wasn’t poisoned. She took a deep breath. There was still time for answers.
What a quandary life had become.
Frightening. Invigorating.
She’d never equated the two before.
Chapter Fourteen
Prince Gunnar stared at Sylph from across the campfire, but he might as well have been someone she’d never met. His face seemed open and yet more closed than she’d ever seen. His real self—if that was indeed what this was—seemed serious and secretive, his eyes probing and unnerving, a quality she’d never associated with the greatest gadabout in the land.
“You may have heard of the Order of Vestra?” he asked.
“It’s a child’s tale,” she said. “The secret protectors of the crown, bogeymen for traitors.” She shrugged. “Or children who won’t eat their greens, though why such creatures are named after an ancient Farradain noble, I’ve never been able to guess.” She thought it might be another way of maintaining noble control, but she wasn’t about to say so in this crowd.
“We’re very real,” he said.
“We?” She looked to his comrades as pieces fell into place. Who would want to push the image of control more than the highest nobles in the land?
“It’s not bandied about,” he said with a trace of his usual drawl. “Secret order and all that. I’m glad it’s been relegated to a threat for misbehaving kiddies. Maybe one day, it will pass out of public remembrance altogether.”
“And you act as agents for the crown? Why not leave that to the royal guards?” Anxiety fluttered in her chest at her own daring. In the past, she would have remained quiet in front of the prince, put on a show of meekness, but the fact that he had a secret identity made her want to throw off her old life, too. She could show that she was clever, that she pondered the world at times.
That she was so much more than what her father had made her.
And if she couldn’t express her feelings to Thana, she could at least impress her. Thana was watching her proudly already. Something in her soared.
“Too conspicuous,” he said. “The people we chase are normally in the shadows, and they rarely expect the prince to be after them.”
She nodded. That explained why he recruited help outside the nobility, like Thana who—as monarch’s pyradisté—was already privy to many royal secrets. None of which Sylph had heard until now. Anxiety gripped her. Steady, she reminded herself. She had to keep her wits. “And you have decided I am trustworthy because Thana has found me worthy of aid?”
“No, my lady. It’s because you are a noble pyradisté and have as much to lose as any of us.”
Her chest froze. So he knew. And yet he sat so casually, as if she wasn’t an abomination. None of his cronies batted an eye. They all knew. The queen must have guessed after she and Thana had fled. How far had the knowledge reached? Her peers? Her father?
“Breathe,” Thana said softly. Her touch on Sylph’s arm was like a cool cloth to a fevered brow. “Watch me, Sylph. One, two, three.”
They breathed together for a few moments, and Sylph forced her facial muscles to relax, relax, relax, and admit nothing.
Prince Gunnar sighed. “It really got you in a tizzy, didn’t it? I almost don’t want to tell you the rest.” After scrubbing one hand through his hair, he said, “You know of the pyradisté rebellion in the past?”
She managed a nod. “Thana told me. The pyradistés tried to take control of the kingdom.”
“Well, what’s not commonly known, not even by Thana, is that those pyradistés were led by the king’s cousin.”
