Lady of Stone, page 21
The prince gave her a sympathetic look. “I doubt Calla would be able to figure out how to disarm that trap without a cancelation pyramid.”
Thana had barely said, “There are a few theories,” before Prince Gunnar gave her a gentle push in Sylph’s direction and joined Dina in a different search.
Sylph smiled, hoping to convey complete confidence. “Tell me these theories.”
Thana spoke about the transference of energies and mind locks and all sorts of things Sylph didn’t understand in the least. But she nodded and tried to seem interested. The idea of learning more magic still made her uneasy in her abdominal organs, but she told herself that this was another instance in which she was obliged to use her power, when she could further prove her worthiness, and she could help Thana in the here and now.
It felt nice to accomplish all those things in one go and nice to prove that she was getting better at corralling and categorizing her thoughts. Even if no one appreciated that last one but her.
Thana fell silent and looked at her expectantly.
Oh, bother. “Which would be your recommendation?” Sylph tried.
“The lock, I think. We don’t have the right pyramids for the others, not really. But we should be able to lock the trap and create a circumstance where only we can set it off.”
“How?” And she had to admit to a spot of genuine intrigue.
Thana pulled another pyramid from her satchel. “Trap pyramids are a mix of destruction and mind magic. We need to fall into my detector together, so you can see the trap, then into this mind pyramid so we can configure the lock. You’d normally only do this for a pyramid you didn’t want anyone else to access, using a memory no one else has, but we’re going to make it so the trap only goes off if someone is actively recalling our memories when they get close, and since no one can do that…”
Sylph nodded slowly. “All we have to do is not think of those memories when we remove the trap.”
A smile flashed quickly before Thana shifted and cleared her throat. “Or to be extra safe, we’ll let Dina actually remove it.”
Sylph felt her own flush. “Right. Of course.” She expected Thana to make the entire situation worse by saying that Sylph would get the hang of it or by making reference to further training, but Thana only nodded, quieting some of Sylph’s fears and lessening her desire to rebel against a pyradisté future.
Sylph used the detector, marveling at the way it cast the world in darker tones, all but the pyramids, which shone like gold in a land of shadow. Once she’d felt the trap, she had it pinpointed. When Thana directed her to do so, she fell into the mind pyramid.
Delight infused her at finding Thana there, her mind like a happy beehive buzzing with intelligence. Her light shone as brightly as any pyramid. And though they could not read each other’s minds, Sylph caught a hint of her wonder and excitement.
“I haven’t done this often,” Thana said aloud, her voice carrying through the faceted semi-darkness around them. Sylph let her eyes slip closed. She didn’t need them in this place.
“Carefully,” Thana said. “Focus there.” A gentle nudge guided Sylph’s senses through the detection and mind pyramids and she saw the trap as a spiderweb, a complex puzzle that would have to be disassembled one strand at a time.
“No,” Thana said firmly as Sylph reached to touch it. “Try to disable it like that, and we’ll set it off, no doubt destroying whatever they’re hiding. Fix a memory in your mind.”
What to choose? It seemed so important. What if she picked something common, something Dina might have experienced?
“I can sense your fear,” Thana said. The comfort of her warm hand curled around Sylph’s fingers. “It doesn’t matter what you choose since no one can access your memories, and no one will have experienced any event the same way as you.”
“Will I lose the memory?” It could be something she’d always wanted to do without, like the sounds of her childhood friends being lashed for sneaking onto her land to play.
“No, you don’t need to fear that.”
Pity, though she couldn’t go giving parts of herself away, she supposed. She thought of the first time she’d looked into Thana’s face and had seen how a stranger could worry for her, how someone could extend a hand while wanting nothing in return.
“Got it?”
“Oh yes.” She tightened her grip on Thana.
“Good. Hold on to it and follow me.”
Sylph observed as Thana’s power flowed through the mind pyramid and from there to glide along the web, weaving strands of gold over it, through it. She guided Sylph next, and as Sylph kept the memory at the forefront of her mind, she felt a little pull all over her body, a sensation she fought through like a serpent shedding its skin.
Afterward, the trap seemed more tapestry than web. The magic faded, and she opened her eyes to Thana’s smiling face.
“Now only we can set it off, and only if we’re recalling those memories when we approach.”
Sylph couldn’t resist kissing her. “I thought of you.”
Another blush appeared. “I thought of you, too.” And by her smile, it seemed to be a happy memory. Sylph was tempted to ask, but depending on the answer, she might crave another kiss. Or something more and Thana would either have to deny her or embarrass them both before their prince.
Thana licked her lips as if reading Sylph’s mind or perhaps her expression. Before either of them could begin embarrassing the other, she called, “Dina, you can get the pyramid.”
Prince Gunnar didn’t bother to argue that he could do it. Even in his Order, everyone seemed to recognize that his life was too important to risk when there were others who were willing.
* * *
“Well, this was certainly worth all the trouble,” Dina said as she surveyed the items from the trapped tent. After Thana had implored her to take care with the trap pyramid, she’d chucked it far into the trees where it had shattered unceremoniously. She’d given Thana a look that asked if she was satisfied.
Thana had restrained herself to muttering, “Here’s to being unappreciated in my time.” What she and Sylph had done had been glorious, beyond noteworthy, though she was going to document the whole experience when she got…
Home?
Who knew when that would be, if ever? She tried to push it from her mind. It fell into the category of futures to be on the lookout for rather than futures to be pondered. She would write about it when she could, and that would have to suffice.
She turned her attention to the articles Dina had found in the tent. She’d gone through everything twice, even feeling along the tent’s seams, but it held little more than shovels, picks, and other digging apparatus like lanterns and rope. There was also a map of the surrounding area with a few indiscernible markings. Thana only recognized the wall around the palace and the edge of Marienne.
Gunnar studied it now, biting his thumbnail. “Do you think they were trying to dig under the palace wall?” Dina asked as she looked over his shoulder.
He shook his head. Thana went back to looking at the equipment with Sylph, who seemed more mystified by it than the rest of them.
“This is all for digging, what, a hole?” Sylph asked.
Thana shrugged. “Maybe, though the picks could mean they had more substantial work to do, like mining or making a well or a tunnel.”
Sylph tilted her head. “You could have just said, a very stubborn hole.” She glanced at Thana from the side of her eye, a small smile in place.
“Yes, all right,” Thana said with a grin. “A stubborn hole for a stubborn person.”
“But look.” Sylph kneeled and touched the tip of one shovel. “This dirt seems fresh.” She touched the others. “Compared to what mars the other tools.”
Thana opened her mouth to make a joke about a lady being an expert on different types of earth, but then she remembered Sylph’s power. If anyone was an expert, it was the woman who could commune with the ground.
Sylph slipped a hand into the pocket where she kept her pyramid. “It’s dark like the soil in this forest.” Her eyes took on the unfocused look of someone using a pyramid. “I sense a void.” She held her free hand over the ground where the tent had stood, and a small square of earth parted like water, bringing a piece of leather into the light.
“Spirits above,” Thana said, watching in awe as Sylph took the leather and revealed a slim book wrapped within.
Sylph presented it to Gunnar without ceremony, as if she accomplished amazing feats every day. Which she did, but Gunnar clearly wasn’t used to it if his dropped jaw was any indication. By the spirits, Thana wasn’t used to it, either, and she’d seen that fantastic power again and again. She had to restrain herself from imploring Sylph to embrace this power, to promise she would never forsake it.
Her choice, Thana reminded herself. It was up to Sylph to embrace or ignore it. Even if it made Thana writhe in envy or want to shake Sylph until her teeth rattled.
Her. Choice.
“Nice,” Dina said, nodding.
Thana turned slowly. “Is that all you have to say?”
She blinked. “And impressive?”
“Is that a question?” Her ire rose now that her frustration had a target other than Sylph’s stubborn refusal to accept a gift from the ten spirits.
Sylph put a hand on her arm and smiled. “There’s no need to be angry. I’m not offended. It was a compliment.”
“See?” Dina asked, smiling wryly.
“I just…never mind,” Thana said, beyond belief at the pair of them. “Gun, what’s in the book?”
“I’m not sure.”
She read over his shoulder. It looked like a journal written in a tidy hand, but the words were fragmented, as if the writer noted their thoughts as they’d had them and hadn’t bothered to explain.
“Five spirits, doubled,” one entry read. “The ten spirits? Relatives?” This was accompanied by a crude sketch of a person with something bulky surrounding them, like heaps of clothing, armor, or a blanket. “Check founding of the city,” the notes underneath it said. An asterisk set off the next line. “Bring more lanterns to save pyrs. Knowledge monks?”
Thana pointed at those last lines. “I know it’s obvious, but that probably refers to light pyramids being saved.”
“And lanterns can be left behind for the supposed knowledge monks,” he said. “Or the monks could be a thought the writer is saving for some future date.” He flipped through a few pages. “This is homemade, doesn’t feel old.” He brought it to his face. “The leather cover smells new.”
“Meaning these are likely notes the rogues are making now?”
“Hmm.” He paused on another page and pointed. “Here’s a reference to tunneling.” His tracking finger paused on a symbol that meant nothing to Thana, but he brought out the map again, and she held it while he made comparisons. “There.” He tapped a marking on the map that stood well inside the palace. “The tunnel entrance?”
She frowned. “I doubt it. Wouldn’t someone have noticed a group of pyradistés tunneling through the pantry floor?” She squinted at the map. “It’s too vague to see exactly where in the palace that is. Maybe it’s the goal?” She scanned the map again before thinking of her own attempts to track the movements of the new crystal. Some of the locations on the map seemed the same as those where pyramid accidents had been reported. Then there were others she hadn’t heard anything about.
“These could be the sites of more pyradisté incidents or something completely different,” she said.
Like a tunnel opening.
She grinned at Gunnar to find him smiling at her, too.
“You two are cute when you’re sleuthing,” Dina said with a wink. “Care to elaborate for the rest of us?”
“We have a place to start,” Gunnar said as Thana announced, “We should head here.” But to undermine their portrait of closeness, they pointed to different places on the map.
“Perfect,” Sylph said wryly.
Gunnar closed the book with a snap and gave Thana a lofty look. “I’ll hear the reasons behind your choice.” But he began striding toward the horses.
“When?” she asked as she hurried to catch up, cursing his longer legs.
“On the way to my choice.”
She muttered a few phrases she definitely should not say in front of royalty, glad for once that he outpaced her by too great a distance to hear.
Not far from the pyradisté camp, they set up camp themselves, all of them exhausted from the night before and needing a longer night so some could sleep while others kept watch. Thana didn’t even have time to anticipate another night with Sylph because she fell asleep as soon as she lay down.
* * *
There was nothing left of the farm but a hole in the ground.
Sylph and the others had ridden hard just after dawn, following the enemy map. They only found this place because Sylph had sensed the disturbance in the earth. She’d been connected to her stone pyramid for miles, looking for this tunnel entrance Prince Gunnar hoped to find.
Instead, they’d found torn soil strewn about, along with a scattering of green leaves that might have been vegetables. Clumps of torn thatch spread along the ground. Apart from the dark earth that blighted the lighter soil like some malevolent creature, Sylph might have guessed that a cart had overturned, and here remained the scraps that could not be salvaged.
But with her pyramid, she didn’t have to guess.
If it had been a farm, what of those who’d lived here? Had they been a family? More than one? While the others gathered around the sunken patch of ground, she looked for tracks but saw only their own horses. No one else had come and gone.
Not aboveground, anyway.
“It’s like the earth swallowed everything,” Dina said. “It’s sure not a tunnel entrance unless it was filled in.”
“No one left that I can see,” Sylph said as she wiped the dirt from her hands. She slipped a hand in her pocket, running her thumb along the edges of her pyramid as she fell into it and scanned the area closely. “There is a tunnel down there, but…there was a cave-in,” she said softly. “The tunnel makers dug themselves out, then filled this area behind them as they left.”
“But why bother filling it in?” Thana asked. “And what happened to the farmers?”
Prince Gunnar wiped his forehead. “They couldn’t leave a hole, didn’t want anyone to follow them.”
“And the farmers?”
“Like I said, they didn’t want anyone to know.” He took a deep breath, his face grim. “If we hadn’t found that book or didn’t have Lady Sylph, we might have thought this some sort of sinkhole that had swallowed the farm and farmers, too.” He nudged a bit of thatch with his foot. “The pyradistés probably blew the house apart to support their ruse.”
“No,” Thana said, her tone still striving to be light. “Okay, maybe the pyradistés destroyed the house, but…” She looked at Sylph, her mouth working. “The farmers ran away, right? I mean, who would have believed them if they’d said a group of pyradistés had come up through their house like giant moles? There was no reason to kill them.”
Sylph fell into her pyramid, her senses cast into the earth. She found eight voids in the ground not far away, the right shape and size. Her heart fell for Thana. “I’m sorry. It’s true.”
Thana turned away as if sick, and Sylph heard her sob. The pyradistés might be her people, but the farmers were her people, too, in a way, being peasants. Or perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps Thana would weep if these were nobles or visitors from some distant shore. She’d always wondered if Thana had originally helped her out of a sense of duty, both because of their respective stations and because of Thana’s being an agent of the crown, but now she knew differently. Thana had helped her because she was a person who’d needed helping.
Sylph had suspected it before, but to have it confirmed atop an unmarked grave sat heavily on her chest.
She put her hands on Thana’s shoulders. “What can I do?” she asked softly. She didn’t want to explain her thinking, didn’t want to trot out words like peasant or status, not here where it ceased to matter. For those who’d lived here, with nothing but each other, perhaps it had never mattered. But Sylph still had her life, her many powers. There had to be something she could do.
“Help me catch them?” Thana asked.
Catch, not kill. She was still Thana. “Yes.”
Thana took her hand and kissed it.
“Shall I create a way for us to climb down, or shall we move on?” Sylph asked.
Prince Gunnar stared at nothing for a few moments, but Sylph didn’t know him well enough to guess at his thoughts. She’d never really known him, and she pitied him his mask. At least she didn’t have to pretend to be jolly all the time at home.
“We go down there,” he said. “At least for a little way. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” He nodded at Dina. “Picket the horses. We’ll be back for them.” He glanced at Sylph. “Do what you can to…make the entrance…efficient.”
She nodded, certain he meant that she was not to disturb the nearby bodies. Sometimes, doublespeak came in very handy. Even Thana didn’t implore the prince to say what he meant at the moment.
“Thank you,” Thana said, wiping her tears on her sleeve.
Sylph couldn’t help a cluck of her tongue, but she didn’t have a clean handkerchief to offer.
Thana gave her a crooked smile. “I know what that was for. I’m going to lick my thumb and clean your cheek next.”
Sylph fought the urge to flinch. “Please don’t. And stand back now, away from the hole.”
Thana nodded, but before she got far, Sylph kissed her quickly on her tear-stained cheek.
The ground was easy to part, the earth already disturbed. She sensed the force that had cracked the larger stones, an explosive pyramid that left some edges jagged and raw like open wounds. She went carefully by the sad voids in the sea of earth.
