Lady of Stone, page 24
Perhaps that meant that after their night together, they understood each other more. Dina would be smirking at the thought. She’d already smirked quite a bit that morning, making Thana want to kick her as much as she’d wanted to injure Gunnar yesterday.
But all the smirking in the world was worth it. She had to keep stopping herself from grinning at Sylph like a lovestruck idiot.
She forced herself to think of the task ahead, bringing her back to Sylph’s father. All the times she’d imagined having a family as a child, she’d never conceived of cruel or uncaring parents. The few accounts Thana had gleaned of them were, “Nice enough. Kept to themselves.” It had been better than nothing.
Gunnar’s father had died around the same time as Thana’s parents, victims of the same illness. But records of her low-born parents were scarce, unlike those of the man who’d sired a child with the queen. By all accounts, he’d been a carefree, boisterous man, quite unlike the father of Earnhilt’s first child, and he’d suited her down to the ground as a longtime friend and sometime lover. Thana had often imagined her parents being just as happy.
Now she had to deal with a father of quite a different stripe. A not at all nice fellow in everyone’s business. Unless Sylph’s plan worked, and they could avoid him.
But if she wanted to be part of Sylph’s future, she couldn’t avoid him forever.
“Isn’t your father afraid that by treating you so badly, you’ll undo everything he’s worked for after he dies?” Thana asked as they rode for Marienne.
Sylph tilted her head. “I doubt he thinks of his actions as being bad. He sees them as lessons that I will no doubt come to appreciate. Everything else is inconceivable.”
“What if you threatened him by saying he has to let you do as you please, or upon his death, you’ll donate all your lands and money to charity.”
Her laugh was high and sweet, as if they weren’t speaking of a parent’s lack of love. “I have plenty of cousins who would love the chance to inherit in my place.”
Thana rubbed her roiling stomach. “Ugh. You should all team up and overthrow him. Then you can split the cash.”
“You’re awfully bloody-minded all of a sudden. Is rebellion the future you have planned?”
Thana shrugged, hoping to seem as if she was in on whatever joke had put a twinkle in Sylph’s eye. In truth, she had no more ideas about the future than she’d had when they’d decided she should be the keeper of it.
* * *
Even while riding at a good clip, they didn’t reach Marienne until nightfall. Even with the cover of darkness, Thana fought to control her jangling nerves.
As planned, Gunnar and Dina went ahead. They’d meet up with the rest of the Order and bring them into the secret passages nearest the entrance Sylph and Thana would use. Everyone bid farewell hurriedly, and Gunnar started down the main thoroughfare while Thana led Sylph to the right of the gate, down a few of the darker streets, where they found a hostler and left the horses.
“We’ll be less conspicuous on foot,” Thana said. They’d already raided Sylph’s clothing for darker outfits and had borrowed hooded jackets from Dina and Gunnar. It was a little too warm for them, but they hoped the breeze and the darkness would give them enough reason to avoid suspicion.
Still, Thana steered them around large groups of people and kept to the shadows. Sylph gawked as if it was another world. She craned her neck to peer at people milling around taverns or chapterhouses. She slowed as they passed various tradesmen closing for the night. Thana would have thought the whole of Marienne a fair in her eyes.
“Are you nervous to be back?” Thana asked, trying to puzzle out her behavior.
“Hmm?” Sylph asked, engrossed in watching someone call in their children for the night. “Is it always so…lively?”
“People’s lives? Usually. Apart from the graveyards.”
It was a tasteless joke, regretted instantly, but Sylph only said, “Yes,” in a distracted way.
“It’ll quiet down as it gets later.”
Sylph finally looked her way and smiled sheepishly, like a student caught not paying attention. “Most of my days have been quiet, you see, and anytime we rode out among the peas…people, they were always quiet, too. Was that from fear?”
Thana pulled away from irritation, her first reaction to the cluelessness of a noble, but she remembered what Dina had said about snobbery, and Sylph’s quick change from saying peasantry to people spoke of effort.
Thana took her hand and intertwined their fingers. “Maybe it was fear. Or maybe it was more like what you’re feeling now, curiosity about what’s different, each side treating the other as something glimpsed at the village fair, except the villagers aren’t part of the body that can send you to prison…or the scaffold.”
“Yes,” Sylph said distractedly, but Thana could see by her frown that she was listening. And her grip on Thana’s hand didn’t waver. And though Thana had said the last part a little archly, it was just a fact of life for Sylph.
Thana told herself that it was a fact of life for everyone, that someone had to be in charge, and right now, she was part of a team working to keep the status quo. At least she could comfort herself with the fact that she’d joined that team out of friendship and that the Umbriels were good leaders.
Even if some of their nobles were complete asses.
Not her noble, but still.
“You can always talk to them more after you’re a duchess,” Thana said. “Your father must have people who act as go-betweens for him and farmers or shepherds or whatever.” Most of country life was still a mystery. “You could talk to those same people more often and find out what they have to say.” Though she imagined they’d be astounded into speechlessness.
“I could, couldn’t I? You know, it never really occurred to me to undo my father’s legacy.” She seemed almost delighted by the idea, even though they’d spoken of it before. Thana was just glad it seemed to add spring to her step.
Soon enough, they reached a section of the palace wall that would have to be scaled in order for them to reach the secret entrance. Thana cast about for anyone watching, then said, “Up and over,” and cupped her hands to give Sylph a boost.
“Thana,” Sylph said quietly, her tone affectionate. Darkness concealed her expression.
“What?”
A grinding sound came from the wall, and a darker patch appeared in the center, a door created with Sylph’s power.
Warmth suffused Thana’s cheeks as she hurried through. “Fine. Just don’t be so noisy.” And after what had happened underground, Sylph’s power still unnerved her as much as it awed her.
The sound was slight as the wall closed behind them. At the end of a short passage, Thana pressed her hand to a pyramid inset in the real wall that led into the palace, and the door swung open, admitting them into the secret passages. Safely inside, Thana lit a light pyramid and hoped she remembered the way to the caverns beneath the palace.
* * *
Sylph couldn’t help feeling a sense of privilege as Thana led her through the dark. Here were halls even mightier than the ones she’d grown up in, a sight few outside of the Umbriels had ever seen, that her father would likely never know.
But Thana knew them. And the rest of the Order, strange denizens of somewhere in between noble and peasant. She thought of the areas of town they’d gone through, with as many layers of poverty and privilege as there were strata in the earth.
And Sylph belonged here now, thanks to power she’d been born with rather than her social status, though she hadn’t discovered it until it threatened to strip that status away. But it was also a power that no one could take from her.
She touched her stone pyramid to remind herself of this fact, not immune to the irony of taking comfort where she’d once found only terror. The solidness of the palace embraced her like a friend, and she sensed the other pyramids that were part of it, mostly traps, which fled like ghosts through her senses.
But there was another. Made from crystal that felt closer to the new variety than any sort that came from the Allusian mines. It didn’t flee but sat below the palace, pulsing like a heart, a malevolent energy that drew the mind like a flash of movement drew the eye.
She slowed, sensing another unknown magic. “What is that?” she whispered, unable to keep the awe from her voice. “That pyramid?”
The look on Thana’s face said she knew, but she didn’t want to say or perhaps dreaded admitting. “Uh. I was hoping you wouldn’t feel that, at least not yet.”
Sylph waited for an answer to her question before she asked a hundred others, but Thana seemed reluctant, a suspicious turn in such a normally eager teacher.
Finally, Thana sighed. “Gunnar wanted to be the one to explain.” Her face said volumes Sylph was only beginning to learn how to read.
“He can’t explain it better than a pyradisté,” she said slowly. “So do you mean he wants to hide something, perhaps tell me the official explanation if one is ever required?” And though she was suspicious, and her father’s lessons urged caution, she also couldn’t help being relieved that Thana didn’t want to lie to her. Quick on the heels of that came anger. Weren’t they past the time for secrets? “Haven’t I earned some trust?”
“It’s…not my secret to tell.”
Not good enough. Sylph stopped, a wealth of feelings bubbling away. She wanted to bring up everything they’d meant to each other, the time they’d spent in each other’s arms, but she couldn’t use something as beautiful as that for any reason. She took a deep breath. “If this pyramid affects what we’re doing—”
“It doesn’t. At least, I hope not. If the rogue pyradistés have discovered it, it could be what they’re after in the palace. They’ll be as curious as you are.” She frowned hard. “But it’s nothing they can use, nothing we can use. The less anyone touches that thing, the better.”
Sylph fought her temper, banning her emotions as she’d done so many times. “If you’re saying this, it must be true, with how often you’ve encouraged me toward magic.”
Thana gave her a little smile. “Please tell me that means you’ll forget about this.” She offered her hand.
Sylph took it and squeezed. “Not a chance.” She gestured for Thana to lead the way again.
Thana groaned as she complied. “Tell me I’m not going to be caught between you and Gunnar.” She sighed heavily, and Sylph patted her shoulder.
“If the pyradistés are after that pyramid I feel below, then it is a part of our current predicament, and if they get their hands on it, I should know what it does in order to defend against it. Would the prince not agree?”
“I don’t know. Ask him.”
Sylph chuckled. She would help him either way, but she wasn’t above letting him think she might walk away. If he thought her talent invaluable during their current trouble, she had more power than she’d thought.
And she was tired of being kept in the dark.
However, she wasn’t willing to let Thana be confused for a moment regarding her loyalty. She turned her and kissed her soundly. “No matter what’s said or done, I’m on your side, and I won’t leave you in peril.”
“Likewise,” Thana said, giving her a kiss in return.
Sylph cocked her head. “Even against the prince?”
Thana groaned again, and Sylph had to chuckle. “There’s no reason for you to be on opposite sides. Ever,” Thana said. “He won’t ask you to share all your secrets either.” She hung her head. “And I’m sorry to have to keep this from you, but I can promise I will do as good a job keeping your secrets from him. Or haven’t I proven my loyalty?”
Yes, when she’d first smuggled Sylph out of the palace against the queen’s wishes. And such loyalty deserved future trust. “All right,” Sylph said with a sigh of her own. It wasn’t until Thana began walking again that she muttered, “I’m still going to ask.”
Thana gave her an exasperated look over one shoulder, but she kept going.
They halted in a dark corridor similar to every other dark corridor. Thana frowned and looked in both directions, craning her neck as if she could see around the corner they’d just passed.
“They should be here,” she said. “They came straight here. And this…is probably the right spot.” She glanced around as if the hall had developed clues in the past few seconds.
Sylph rubbed her shoulders, feeling guilty for adding to her anxiety earlier. “There are many reasons for tardiness.”
“I know.” She leaned into Sylph’s touch. “The queen probably wanted to talk. Ivar and Illis might have still been dealing with where to put all the captives. There might have been some court nonsense Gunnar had to take care of.”
“He might have needed to speak with the nobles’ council and calm my father if he isn’t already out stirring up trouble.”
“Won’t he be out looking for you if he’s doing anything?”
Sylph snorted and quoted him. “Never waste time doing anything someone lesser can do in your place. Focus on those tasks which only you can accomplish.”
Thana turned slowly, a look of pity and horror on her face. “Looking for you isn’t wasting time.” She closed her eyes and breathed hard as if calming herself. “If necessary, I will always find you myself.”
With a laugh, Sylph kissed her nose. “I will endeavor not to become lost. And I’ll find you, too. Provided I’m not busy with something else, of course.” She lifted an eyebrow to Thana’s look of affront and then squeaked as Thana tickled her. They laughed for a few moments until Sylph noticed that Thana stood on tiptoe, leaning against her, and the passion of the night before came rushing back.
And there was nothing else to do except try to help Thana relax.
It was medicinal, really.
Sylph kissed her and found eagerness returned. Thana’s hands ran along her body, and thought became lost to sensation. She had a brief moment of wonder that a dark, dusty hallway could be a place of possible ecstasy before Thana took her breath away.
Then, slowly, a siren call wormed into her thoughts, merging briefly with passion before pushing it aside.
New crystal, shaped into a power similar to that of the malevolent pyramid.
Sylph tried to lose herself in Thana while also summoning the words to warn her. But this pyramid promised delights equal to Thana’s. No rage or destruction here, no mere power of cancelation. She could surrender to this without consequences, be carried away with a feeling she was tired of fighting.
“Sylph? What’s wrong?”
Thana’s fiery touches stilled, but sensation still carried through Sylph’s mind, ecstasy from the inside out.
“Sylph? Is it…okay, don’t panic. Here.” Something cold and unbreakable slid into her hand, her pyramid, but how could it match this promise of flesh, a host of possibilities beyond unfeeling stone?
“Don’t you feel it, Thana?”
“No, but I’m trying.”
Sylph grabbed her hands, falling with her through the facets of a detection pyramid. It took them through the earth, past the beating heart she’d felt earlier, itself an echo of this power. There, the siren call, far below but moving closer.
“Fiend magic, spirits above,” Thana said, her voice a harsh whisper in this place of revelation. She yanked the pyramid away, but Sylph barely needed it now. “Sylph, stop. Let it go. Focus on your stone, please. Come on.” Desperation and tears flooded her voice. “Don’t let it carry you away.”
Fiend magic? Evil monsters from children’s stories had their own magic? It was absurd. “Come with me, Thana. Feel this.”
“No, break free from it. Now. It’s evil, Sylph, please. It’s the magic of the pyramid you sensed before, and I should have warned you. Break with it. I have no idea what will happen if you use it, and that should scare you because I know everything, remember?”
Sylph managed to open her eyes, drawn by that distress. She was lying in Thana’s lap, her pale, anxious face hovering above. Tears ran down her cheeks as she pleaded. She wiped them on her sleeve. Sylph tsked.
Thana’s face brightened. “Stay with me. Keep your eyes open.” She brought Sylph’s hand into view with the stone pyramid inside. “Stay here.” She squeezed, and the sharp points dug into Sylph’s palm, making her gasp.
“See?” her pyramid seemed to say. “Flesh is ephemeral. I am eternal.” And through it, so was she. And it wasn’t cold, she saw as she let it capture her senses. The world had been born in fire and carried that flame at its core, a force of such magnitude, it tore itself open on occasion and spread molten rock that birthed new land.
The siren still called, but it only reminded her that flesh had one point in its favor: Thana. And she was in pain.
Sylph struggled to sit up, forcing herself to breathe and letting Thana’s words and touches ground her. “It’s still there,” she managed. “And coming closer.” And the large pyramid, the heart that scared Thana so, was beginning to beat in time with the new pyramid as if coming alive.
A rumble began in the stones around them, and Sylph asked her pyramid for answers.
Far below, something stirred.
Chapter Twenty
“Spirits above,” Thana cried. “What now?” The palace rumbled around them, but at least Sylph seemed to be out of the grip of the new crystal. Thana pulled her upright and kept her close until the rumbling died down. “Did you do that?” she whispered.
“No,” Sylph said, the words mumbled in Thana’s hair. “It’s something under the palace.”
Thana breathed in so sharply, her chest ached. There was only one thing buried under the palace: Yanchasa the Mighty.
“Shit.” Thana’s mind raced. Sylph had sensed a Fiend pyramid made with the new crystal, though the spirits only knew how the rogues had managed that. In their tunneling, they must have detected the capstone, the pyramid that kept Yanchasa prisoner.
But who knew what they planned to do with such a pyramid? She couldn’t let them get to the capstone, and she couldn’t wait for Gunnar. She couldn’t let two Fiend pyramids be brought together, or the rogues could awaken Yanchasa.
