Lady of Stone, page 17
Everything inside her balked. “There are no noble pyradistés.” She felt a fool the moment she said it, living proof that she was.
“There were many,” he said. “After the uprising, the noble families killed or banished their pyradistés. Even now, in the oldest families, if they discover one in their midst, they quietly get rid of them.”
Thana shot to her feet. “You can’t be serious. Queen Earnhilt allows this?”
He flinched. “Well…she doesn’t exactly investigate when it happens.”
“Spirits above!” Thana paced, hands atop her head, face flushed. “It’s murder.”
“She can’t control the nobles,” Ivar said.
“Most of the stubborn mules wouldn’t listen if she tried,” Illis added.
“Begging your pardon, Lady,” Dina said with a beatific smile.
“Not necessary,” Sylph muttered out of habit. She could barely think through her own elation and fear. She wasn’t alone, wasn’t an abomination?
Except she’d been right to be afraid. If her father knew of such a grisly tradition, would he follow it? But most of her family’s wealth and lands were newer, acquired long after the pyradisté rebellion. Perhaps they’d changed too much to remember such casual murder.
“We don’t do it, Thana,” Prince Gunnar said. “The Umbriels don’t kill their pyradisté relations no matter how close to the throne they are.”
“Where are these relations, then?” she asked with disbelief thick in her voice.
“And why target me if you don’t kill your own?” Sylph asked, anger taking over. “Did the queen seek my death simply because I am not a member of her family?”
“You’ve already met one relation.” Prince Gunnar motioned to Calla, who flipped her straight blond hair over her shoulder.
“Distant cousin,” she said with a smile that was more a baring of teeth. “Trotted out when needed.”
“And,” Prince Gunnar said loudly over Thana’s exclamation of disbelief. “My mother overreacted to you, my lady, because you lit the palace on fire, and she thought you part of the greater pyradisté problem.”
Ah yes. That.
* * *
Thana couldn’t believe her ears. It didn’t matter that the events Gunnar spoke of were over a hundred years in the past. She couldn’t believe no one remembered.
But the victors had written the history, and they didn’t want anyone to remember, and what the nobility did was so far outside of the normal person’s sphere anyway…
“I can’t,” she said. “It’s so hard to think of, let alone believe.” But if he was telling the truth, the proof sat just across the fire. “Why me, Gun? If you already had a pyradisté you trusted, why am I the monarch’s choice?”
He looked pained. “Because I wanted it to be you, Than.”
Calla snorted and rolled her eyes. “They need to keep my lineage secret, remember?” And that clearly didn’t sit well with her, but something in Gunnar’s eyes said he wouldn’t have had her anyway.
Thana’s cheeks grew hot under the weight of his trust, his affection. “Thanks,” she muttered. Before he could smile too widely, she added, “But how could you keep this huge secret from me? All the times I had to listen to garbage from the courtiers and nobles.” She pointed to Sylph. “And all the fear she had to suffer.”
“None of that would have changed if you’d known, except you would have been tempted to mock the courtiers with the information.”
She ground her teeth. That was true. And the fact that she had to keep quiet would have eaten a hole through her stomach. But she couldn’t shed her anger so easily. “Keeping the whole thing secret was a stupid solution.”
“I agree.” He smiled softly. “But the nobles and monarchy thought the lack of a possible noble leader would keep the pyradistés from revolting again.”
“As if we’d need one,” she said with a snort.
He gave her a flat look. “Whether they were right about that or whether it was lack of access to crystal that stopped the rebellion, the situation has changed.”
“Because of the new crystal,” she said, arching an eyebrow.
He sat back, hands pressed together. “And because the pyradistés of Marienne have another noble to guide them.”
Thana’s heart thundered. Sylph had gone white, her eyes huge. They said, “What?” and “Who?” at the same time.
He looked between them. “I’m hoping you can tell me.”
“It isn’t Sylph,” Thana said, her ire rising again at the thought of Sylph being accused.
Gunnar looked at her as if she was an idiot. “I know that.”
And there was that embarrassing flush again. “Sorry.” But Sylph gave her an affectionate look that made the embarrassment worth it. Sylph had to be off-guard indeed for her mask to have slipped that much.
“Tell us about this crystal,” Gunnar said.
Thana told the little she knew, happy to unburden herself. She related what had happened at the academy, that all the pyradistés seemed to know about and be excited by the crystal. She left out Sylph’s desire to bring the building down and spoke about the attack at the manor. She downplayed Sylph’s struggles there, too, and said that the attackers’ pyramids had gone off and that she and Sylph had decided to trace the rumored pyradisté attacks in an effort to find the source of the new crystal.
“We think the early attacks and explosions could have been caused by pyradistés like Sylph, who are more sensitive to the crystal and had accidents when it came near them,” Thana said.
Sylph had been sitting stiffly but quietly, and now she shook her head. “I’m not sensitive, Prince Gunnar,” she said as she stared into flames that made strands of gold dance through her hair. “I’m inexorably pulled to it, captivated, imprisoned. It’s terrifying and yet so beautiful to touch. I could tear the world apart with it, and that would feel…right.” She finally looked up with tears in her eyes and an expression of horror that became a snarl. “The person who attacked us at the manor? I set off his pyramid made from this new crystal, and it blew up the others, and at the moment I did so, I’d never felt so free. No remorse, no thoughts for anyone’s safety, not even my own. I was just so happy to merge with it and so relieved to stop resisting.” Her voice had climbed until she was nearly shouting.
Thana couldn’t move, caught by the raw emotion in Sylph’s voice. Not even when they were kissing had she seemed so open.
“If there are others like me,” she said quietly, “I pity them. And I hate those who would use this crystal after knowing what it does to us.”
Gunnar stared for a few moments. “I am truly sorry, Lady Sylph, for what you’ve endured. Will you help us end this?”
“Yes,” she said, almost hissing. “If the secret of noble pyradistés comes to light.” She stood and marched into the darkness.
Thana held up a finger to Gunnar, indicating that he should give her a moment. She followed Sylph, who stood not far into the trees, her pale hair like a ghost among the black trunks. “Are you all right?” Thana asked. She snorted. “No, of course you’re not.”
“Why of course?” Sylph asked as she turned. “Do outpourings of emotion normally leave a person feeling as if they’ve run for miles? Because I’ve never had one before tonight.”
“An…outpouring?” Thana asked, wondering if she’d heard right.
“Yes. My father would have frowned on it, and there was no one to talk to anyway.” The firelight glinted in her teary eyes, and her tone seemed somewhere between heartbroken and disbelieving. “I feel as if I can barely breathe, Thana. The world is not what I thought it was.”
Thana took her hands. “Isn’t that a good thing? You can have everything you want. You can be a noble and a pyradisté. You can have friends. Love.” Her breath caught. They weren’t in love, but they could certainly fall.
“I wanted to ignore my power, if you’ll recall.”
“And now you don’t have to.”
Sylph made an inelegant snort. “Because the secret will be revealed? You think it that easy?”
Thana let go of her hands but resisted the urge to cross her arms. “Why not?”
“And if I don’t wish to be a pyradisté?” Her voice was cold, pure noble.
Thana’s mind raced even as anger overcame her pity. “Even though you know that nobles can be pyradistés, that it was possible all along, you’d still choose not to embrace it?” Her own spirit seemed to be straining from her chest, begging Sylph to let go just a little, to consider the possibilities now that her world was not what she thought.
“You sat beside me at that fire but didn’t hear a word I said.”
“I…” Thana shook her head. Perhaps they’d only ever misunderstood each other. “After we take care of this new crystal, after we…convince these rogues not to rebel, you want all to come to light, and you can be free.” The convincing part sounded lame, but she would avoid bloodshed if she could.
“Free?” Sylph still sounded colder than a winter’s morn. “And you’ve decided what that means for me?”
“It won’t be easy, I know, but—”
“I will still be under the control of my father, and you would have these pyradistés order me about as well?”
“These pyradistés?” Thana asked, no longer fighting to keep her tone civil. “After the rebels are stopped, who are these pyradistés? Or do you mean me?”
“You’d have me be lost in a world that should not concern me, with continuing terrors that I want no part of.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Thana said through her teeth, but no amount of anger seemed to penetrate the chill.
“We will never understand each other,” Sylph said, and she had the decency to sound a little sad. “Perhaps that is for the best.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t turn all noble on me again.”
Sylph drew herself up, and Thana knew what was coming, but there was no way to avoid it. “I know of no other way to be.”
Thana thought about kissing her again, but she was tired. And at least Sylph hadn’t called her a peasant again. “And you clearly don’t care to learn.” She turned back to the fire, not waiting to see if Sylph followed or stayed in the dark.
* * *
In a way, Thana was right. Sylph could now have everything she wanted. If there were other noble pyradistés, her father couldn’t disown her, and the queen had no reason to execute her.
Apart from the little fire incident.
But when this secret of noble pyradistés came out, she could find another teacher who’d give her what she wanted: a way to suppress her power. Then the queen wouldn’t have to worry about her, and her father could pretend she was normal.
And Thana could go back to her life, too, and…
That thought hurt like angry bees swarming inside her chest. A new future might be possible, but it wasn’t the one she wanted. Better if her power proved she wasn’t a noble after all, just some cuckoo left in a duke’s nest. She could learn how to be a peasant with her raven’s help.
If she hadn’t driven her away for good.
Sylph rubbed her aching shoulders. She still had her power and a queen who feared it, two problems that must be solved no matter what future she wanted. With a whispered curse, she kicked a tree. It remained unimpressed, and now her foot throbbed in time with her heart.
Just perfect.
She told herself to quit acting so childish, to stop thinking herself into corners. Taking her frustration out on Thana solved nothing. It didn’t matter if she barely comprehended Thana’s insane ideas. She should enjoy their time together and throw herself into solving the problems right in front of them. Right now, she had the opportunity to prove herself to the crown. Thana would have to help her suppress her power in front of Prince Gunnar. Then she could cease worrying about one possible future, the one that included her execution.
Sylph sighed. So far, she’d proven herself completely incapable of not worrying about that.
Unless she was in Thana’s arms.
Which wasn’t likely to happen again if the sorrow in Thana’s voice was any indication.
Sylph rubbed her temples. She’d been such a fool, but she couldn’t think of a way to apologize. She wondered if Thana wished for a magical way to simply end Sylph’s nobility. She would never wish for the opposite and become noble herself. She clearly loathed everything about Sylph’s class. When she bothered to care about such things at all.
How in the world had she learned how to do that?
Simply not caring was probably how she’d become friends with a prince. Sylph tried to feel the same, to be disinterested in her station and that of others. She imagined fraternizing with…people, as the prince did. They would call her by name alone. None of them would have titles, and she would learn about their lives, their families. And no one would care about anything except the safety and happiness of the group. It would feel partly like her bond with Thana and be friendship made outside of danger and secrets.
Her father would have no control over it.
The thoughts were pleasing even as they made her queasy. It seemed a step away from anarchy.
But at least it was some kind of step.
She walked stiffly back to the fire, tired of her busy head. The others quieted as she approached. Thana didn’t look at her, and the prince’s gaze held a hint of censure. She balked. He was one of the few above her, people who could name her guilty.
Without title, how would she know who could command her heart like that?
An easy question. Thana could do it just by being Thana. Friendship could do it, and romance had an even greater power.
“Everything all right?” Prince Gunnar asked.
“Yes,” Sylph said, trying to let some emotion into her words, but it was difficult when it wasn’t rage. She wanted to say she was sorry, anything to get Thana to look at her, but there were too many eyes. She had to put her mask back on, or she’d fall to pieces.
And while wearing it, a different solution presented itself, one for the present and the future. As much as it hurt, driving Thana away would solve many problems. After all, Sylph would be a duchess one day, and she wouldn’t be as free to have friends or lovers as a prince was.
Or a peasant.
And if a wound could heal, so could a heart. “Tell me of your suspects for this pyradisté noble.”
His nod was slow, his look still a bit accusatory, but he began.
* * *
Thana barely listened as Sylph and Gunnar discussed Lord Whosits and Countess Whatsits and the Earl of Who-Gives-a-Shit. The very last thing she wanted to talk about was more stuck-up nobles, many of whom had dismissed her as trash twice over, once for her birth and again for her magic. And some of the bastards had known all along that a noble could have magic, too.
She cursed all of them with never-ending boils.
At the moment, she wanted to include Sylph in there, too. Gunnar and Queen Earnhilt barely escaped. All of them were too much trouble, too set in their ways. Too shortsighted and stupid and beautiful with soft lips and great skin.
Spirits above.
Thana’s dumb feelings wouldn’t just die, even after Sylph had made it clear that she would not bend, even a little. In the midst of danger or lovemaking, she could change her tune, but once her head cleared, she sang the same song. She would never truly embrace her so-called peasant magic or the peasant who wielded it.
Clearly, it would take a lot of work before Thana could finally say good riddance. Work she did not need to be focusing on in the moment. “How did this mysterious pyradisté noble keep themselves secret for so long?” she asked, interrupting.
Gunnar blinked before he shrugged. “No idea. We’re operating on intelligence that Calla gathered.”
Calla glared, which seemed the only expression she was capable of. “I heard that Headmaster Cyrus is working with a noble who’s ready to lead a rebellion now that we…they…have access to a new source of crystal.”
Well, that slip of the tongue wasn’t worrying at all. “And you believe this, why?”
Her scowl built until she looked as if she’d eaten an entire lemon. “Because my source had no reason to lie, and he told other pyradistés the same at the time.”
“But it could simply be a rumor?” Sylph said with a hollow quality to her voice. “A story made up to give the rebels someone to believe in?”
Thana snorted. Most of the pyradistés she knew would rather not have a noble in charge. “Gun, a word?” She stepped away from the fire without waiting.
“If everyone gets a private convo in the forest, when’s our turn?” Dina called, and the brothers laughed, though it didn’t seem to have much humor in it.
“Who is this Calla person?” Thana asked when they were out of earshot. “How come I’ve never even heard of her?”
“I told you. She’s a cousin.”
One who had led the Order out here on no one’s word but her own. Thana’s insides went cold as the weight of that came home. She’d been too wrapped up in her conflict with Sylph to keep her guard up.
Which made more sense: that Calla was an Umbriel cousin who was also a pyradisté, and Thana had never met her; or that Calla was a rogue pyradisté who had captured the Order and used a mind pyramid to control them?
And now that same group of pyradistés was attempting to take Thana and Sylph without a fuss because a mind pyramid wouldn’t work on them.
“What are you thinking?” Gunnar asked. “That Calla’s a traitor?” Skepticism dripped from his voice. He wouldn’t know he was being controlled. The trick with mind pyramids was to only change little things, nothing fundamental. The addition of a cousin who could be trusted wouldn’t take much. And he would have been told to defend Calla, too, if Thana knocked her teeth in.
She cursed the fact that she had no mind pyramid to check whether it was true. At least it was a problem she could do something about, even if she didn’t know what. Whatever she did, she couldn’t tell Gunnar and couldn’t let Calla know and give her time to act.
