Lady of Stone, page 20
Even her father wouldn’t turn his nose up at that. He’d probably march on his neighbors and demand they sign over their land, or his daughter would turn it against them. More than that, he’d eye the throne, seeing the value of magic if it could deliver the world.
Literally.
She sighed as she leaned against a tree, watching and ready to act as the Order divested these pyradistés of their meager weaponry and bound them in a line so they could march back to Marienne. She was tempted to go with them. She’d be torn between finally securing her father’s approval and encasing him in stone.
Better to stay put. Neither plan would endear her to the queen.
As for the prince, he kept up a chilly facade. He and Thana traded several barbs and recriminations, but she couldn’t detect any real malice, though her ability to deduce emotions was somewhat stunted. By the way Thana smiled at Prince Gunnar when he wasn’t looking and the similar expressions he made to her back, they remained friends. Sylph wondered how long it would be before they smiled at each other’s faces.
Thana could hurl angry retorts in one moment and dole out kisses in another. Sylph had pushed her often enough to see it, feel it. But Thana never walked away. She cast many a glance Sylph’s way, as good as saying they would continue to walk the same path, wherever that might lead. After all that she had said to Thana, all the nasty little thoughts…
She did not deserve such loyalty.
But she couldn’t flee from it or betray it and not just because it felt as warm as a thick blanket on a cold day. A rejection of that loyalty would break Thana’s heart, and Sylph had to protect her from everyone.
Including Sylph herself.
Calla shuffled up nearby. “What is that?” she asked, resentment roiling off her like heat off molten rock.
Sylph turned, her mask in place. She didn’t know how to treat this woman, a noble with a peasant’s power—like her, she admitted—an Umbriel secret.
“Don’t insult me by saying, ‘It’s a pyramid,’” Calla said, sneering. “I’ve never felt one like it.”
“I don’t know how to explain.” She tried to be patient, but she felt as tired as everyone else and was still unaccustomed to anyone’s anger except her father’s. Well, and Thana’s. Even at the manor house, the countess had the good manners to knock her unconscious before insulting her.
Calla’s nostrils flared. Perhaps she was trying to suppress her acid tongue. “What does it do?”
“Connects me to stone. I can command it.” She wasn’t ready to talk about the extent, frightened to speculate.
“How did you make it?”
“Again, I cannot explain. I haven’t the vocabulary.” Time for another subject. Perhaps the two of them were more alike than she thought. “Have you always known your status?”
Calla blinked, uttering a clipped, “What?”
“As a noble. Were you brought up as one?”
“Of course. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It must have been quite a blow.” She recalled her own panic at facing discovery, but Calla had no doubt faced it immediately if the Umbriels were always looking for magic in their kin. How had she borne such a thing? “Even if you were excited by the power, you were stripped of your old life, your peers. It must have been unsettling.”
Her cheeks went scarlet. “It’s not like they moved me into a cave above the sea.”
“It was still exile.” Sylph tilted her head as Calla seemed perplexed. “I quite understand.”
She sneered again as if to say that no one understood her, and they shouldn’t dare try. “You’ve been going through this for how many days, and you think you know my life story? Oh, please. Even if we did feel the same, my family is letting the secret of noble pyradistés out because you demanded it. You’ll sacrifice nothing.”
Both somewhat true and mostly false. And Sylph had no interest in explaining. A small part of her had thought she and Calla could bond, but she no longer cared to push where she wasn’t wanted, not in this moment, when she was supposed to be completely in the present. “I cannot answer your questions now. Perhaps I will one day, but our time seems at an end.” She nodded at the captives as Calla went from scarlet to indigo. “You will accompany them to Marienne, I take it?”
“Why should I?” she asked between her teeth.
Sylph frowned, genuinely confused. “Because you will have deduced that Thana and I will most likely remain on the hunt, and you loathe us. And the prince, to a point.” She lifted a hand as her father often did at the end of an argument. “And the escorts will have need of a pyradisté, and you have rearmed yourself.”
Calla put her hands on her slender hips. “With a bunch of useless junk, no destructive pyramids left.”
Sylph smiled as brightly as she could. “Even so, the loathing remains.”
“Oh, fine. I guess I’ll do it. At least you’re somewhat intelligent.” From her, it seemed like high praise. She marched away stiffly, as if on parade, and Sylph knew she’d continue all the way to Marienne just as the prince would remain behind.
The brothers joined Calla in escorting the prisoners, leaving Prince Gunnar, Sylph, Thana, and Dina the monk to follow the rogue pyradistés’ trail and find out where they’d come from.
The rogues had made no attempt at disguising it. Sylph couldn’t blame them. The hunting parties she was used to never attempted to cover their tracks, either.
Of course, she’d never hunted people before.
But Prince Gunnar had. He tracked with Sylph in the front, and neither had to dismount to see the path. The pyradistés might as well have hacked their way through the undergrowth.
“They seemed in quite the hurry,” he said. “I wonder if that was the plan of the original five all along, to lead us out where their allies were waiting.”
“But when you spotted and followed Thana and me, you disrupted their plans.” She nodded. It made sense, though it couldn’t be confirmed. The pyradistés hadn’t seemed willing to talk before they’d left—aside from chains of expletives—and since they were pyradistés, their memories couldn’t be read.
He shook his head. “How did it come this far? Were we blind to miss rebellion brewing in our own city?”
Like Thana, he seemed prone to thinking aloud and likely did not require an answer, but as before, she felt she should contribute. “Why should you have noticed, Highness?”
He blinked as if he’d forgotten she was there. Then he frowned, and though he was as handsome as ever, she wondered how many nobles and courtiers would still be smitten if they saw these genuine expressions. She’d heard that his lackadaisical personality was part of his charm, just like his mother’s passion was part of hers.
Though they rarely appealed to the same people.
“You don’t think I should have seen this coming?” he asked.
She shrugged. “The pyradistés did not tell Thana, your link to them, and even though you clearly work with”—she glanced back at Thana and Dina—“those outside your station, you do not seem to socialize there in public.” She tilted her head. “Unless you sometimes mingle with the populace in disguise?”
He seemed intrigued but still shook his head. “I still should have…” He sighed. “I wish someone would have told me.” He chuckled as if realizing how ridiculous that sounded.
But her mind was already working. “Use spies. The pyradistés know of Thana’s connection to you, so someone else must serve as your eyes and ears in their camp. After this current rebellion has been dealt with, of course.”
“A spy in the academy?” he said, frowning.
“And wherever else one might be needed.” She thought of her maids and tutors. Her father would never hire someone who couldn’t be bought, and his pockets were so deep, he never feared being outbid.
The prince’s frown said he found the idea distasteful. She nearly laughed, tickled that his conscience extended so far. She liked him. Her father would have laughed himself sick, but it would have been all disdain.
“Or recruit a spy master,” she said. “Someone whose loyalty you trust but who knows how to buy it in others.”
A step removed from dirtying his hands seemed to please him, and he looked at her as if seeing someone different.
She nearly laughed again, prepared to tell him to look elsewhere for his tender of secrets, but perhaps the lessons her father had inadvertently taught her could be put to good use.
And even he would be impressed that she’d found another way to be useful to the crown.
But that was the future, and she didn’t have to think of that just now.
* * *
“What do you suppose they’re muttering about?” Thana asked as she and Dina followed Sylph and Gunnar through the forest.
“We could ride closer and eavesdrop,” Dina said.
“I think they’d notice.”
“Well, that leads to my next suggestion. We could ask.”
Thana snorted. “For a monk of love and beauty, you’re much too straightforward.”
“Oh?” Her full lips quirked up. “Love problems?”
Thana scoffed, feeling a cursed blush betray her. “No. I…have a…beauty problem that…” She sighed. “Fine, yes. I do.”
“Relax, I already heard what you said to Gunnar when we were locked up.”
Thana had known that was possible, but she still bristled. “I thought the rest of you asleep.”
“You and the lady seem to have reached an accord since then.”
With another sigh that came from her toes, Thana nodded. If Gunnar wasn’t going to help…but she already knew what Dina’s ultimate advice would be.
“You know what you really need to clear the air?” Dina asked.
That hadn’t taken long. “A long romp in a soft bed,” they said together.
When Dina gave her a surprised look, Thana ground her teeth. “That’s what you always say, Di. Those exact words.”
“Doesn’t make them wrong.”
“You suggested it for Gun’s problems with his tailor.”
“Would have worked.”
“And when Illis was fighting with his upstairs neighbor.”
“That would have been a joy to witness.” She chuckled when Thana sighed yet again. “We servants of Elias and Elody seek to understand the universe through love and beauty, and I seek my understanding through the awe-inspiring, gorgeous realm of the physical.”
It made sense. Dina was beautiful enough to be one of Elody’s statues. She probably got offers wherever she went. “But not everyone feels the same way.”
“Everyone should try.”
“I know you think so.” And as frustrating as these conversations were, she’d missed them after being too long apart. If only the brothers had remained to take Thana’s side while Gunnar stood with Dina.
If only…lots of things.
“All right, fine,” Dina said. “You have to have an honest conversation with her.”
“I just had one. That’s why we’re currently at peace. Or at least at a standstill. She’s not good at admitting emotion. Or showing it.” She frowned. “Or feeling it, based on what she’s said.”
“Uptight?”
“More like hidden. I don’t think she’s ever felt free. Or even safe.” The emotion she’d exhibited most often was fear. Of other nobles, the Umbriels, even her own father. It pulled at Thana’s heart.
“She might not know how to be honest, then.”
“She’s trying,” Thana said, overcome with the need to defend her if no one else was going to.
“I believe you, but she still might not be very good at it, even in her own thoughts.”
“She considers herself a realist. Keeps bringing up the differences in our stations and ruining the mood.”
Dina tsked. “Realism with facts doesn’t equal honesty with feeling. And why should such an obvious fact ruin anything for you?”
Thana rolled her eyes. “I know nothing ruins the mood for you.” When Dina didn’t take the bait, Thana watched the trees for a few moments and listened to the birds calling from the branches. “I don’t like having her status thrown in my face.”
“Or your own status repeated.”
“Yes,” she said as a groan.
Dina stretched her arms over her head until her impressive physique clicked all over. Then she met Thana’s eyes. “You’re a snob.”
Thana blinked, certain she hadn’t heard correctly. “Excuse me?”
“You have a negative attitude where nobles are concerned.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” But her cheeks were beginning to burn again.
“You don’t like to be reminded that she’s a noble because you hate most of them and wish she wasn’t one.”
“You don’t know me that well,” Thana said, knowing it was a lie before Dina gave her a flat look, but she still had to protest. “Well, you and I have never had a romp of any kind, so your understanding of me is imperfect.” There, undeniable logic.
The smile Dina gave her said she was welcome anytime, and it forced Thana to look away before her face caught fire. “You like Gunnar, and he’s a noble,” Dina said after a laugh. “And the queen is the ultimate noble.”
And not Thana’s favorite person after recent information, but she stayed quiet.
“Why can’t you like a duke’s child, too?”
“Because.”
Dina waited a heartbeat before she said, “Is that it? Oh well, I can’t argue with that.”
“Because,” Thana said again, lengthening the word to eat up time while she searched for a reason besides the real one. Finally, she had to admit, “If we hadn’t met through extraordinary circumstances, she would have been as mean or dismissive as the rest of them.” It hurt to even think of, let alone imagine, but she couldn’t help picturing Lady Sylph with her cold expression twisting into one of derision.
“You don’t know that for certain,” Dina said softly, sympathy so heavy in her voice that Thana teared up.
She clenched her fists, rejecting the sadness. She would not be so childish. “My experience with court life suggests otherwise.”
“Nobles are mostly asses, so what? You know two very notable exceptions. There is no reason Sylph wouldn’t have been one, too.”
Thana had to admit to the remotest possibility. She nodded. After all, Sylph only brought out the frosty persona when she felt threatened. Since Thana never would have threatened her, either emotionally or physically, if they hadn’t met the way they had, the odds were that Sylph would have simply ignored her.
As she had before they’d ever met. And since Thana couldn’t recall her before that day in the garden, Thana had been ignoring her, too.
And only focusing on the asses.
A thought that made her laugh until Dina insisted she share, and they both chortled like miscreants until Gunnar gave them a warning look, and Sylph smiled over her shoulder, a beautiful look that Thana would have been a fool to ignore. And Sylph only showed it to those who mattered to her, those she liked, perhaps those she could someday love.
If they could see past her title.
“Fine,” Thana said. “I’ll think on that.”
Dina nodded. “And if that doesn’t work?” She grinned.
“Please don’t say it.”
But her mouth was already open. Thana began to repeat the line about romps and beds, but Dina said, “You’ll have to have more honest conversations.” When Thana sputtered in surprise, Dina snorted. “Really, Thana, that’s what you always say.”
Chapter Seventeen
Luckily, the pyradisté camp wasn’t far. A few tents stood in a small clearing, as well as flimsy lean-tos made of logs and blankets. The pyradistés had put their fire out before venturing forth, but everything else spoke of haste: utensils scattered about, clothing left in piles, a picketed horse that still wore a saddle, and a few books still open, waiting for the readers’ return.
Sylph began tending the sad-looking mare while the others searched for clues. The horse shivered and nickered as she brushed it. The pyradistés must have advanced as soon as they’d scouted the prince’s camp and hadn’t wanted to risk riding in the dark. Too bad they hadn’t been as concerned with the mare’s well-being as they had been with their own.
And that also meant someone had spied on the prince’s camp before the attack. And Sylph hadn’t noticed because she hadn’t been looking for pyramids, but maybe she should have been. She tried to shake the guilt from her shoulders. Thana hadn’t noticed either.
But she didn’t have Sylph’s ability, which she was forever pointing out. Sylph couldn’t help thinking that, since she had all this power, she was obliged to use it when needed.
She cast her senses out now, pausing in her brushing, hoping she wasn’t too late to catch an ambush if that was what the future held. She sensed no pyramids lurking in the trees and breathed a sigh of relief.
Until…a spark of something caught her senses.
“Stop,” she cried, whirling around, unsure of what the signal meant or where it came from, but everyone needed to halt until she found out.
Everyone froze, well-acquainted with the suddenness of magic, it seemed. Thana’s eyes were wide as she bent over a blanket near the campfire. Dina paused while halfway inside a tent. Prince Gunnar held one foot aloft, freezing on the way to another tent, this one set apart from the others.
Barely there, the signal slipped around Sylph’s senses, slippery as an eel or an elusive secret. “Thana, use your detector. I can’t quite search it out.” And quickly, as Prince Gunnar seemed a bit wobbly on one leg.
Thana dug in her satchel and brought her pyramid forth. No sooner had her eyes closed, then she pointed at the tent nearest the prince. “Gunnar, back up. They might have left quickly, but they took the time to set a trap.”
He did so, stepping as carefully as if away from a sleeping bear.
“Don’t go poking around it, Sylph,” Thana said. “You might set it off. The rest of the camp is clear.” Dina sighed in relief and joined them. Thana smiled sheepishly. “I should have checked. Sorry.” Her cheeks went red. “Maybe you should have brought Calla.”
