Lady of Stone, page 25
“I have to go into the caverns below the palace,” she said, heart thundering in her ears and her stomach roiling. She leaned Sylph against the wall. “Wait for Gunnar and tell him where I’ve gone.”
Sylph pushed upright, far paler than usual. “I’m coming with you.”
“You can’t. The crystal—”
“I’ll be fine so long as I have this.” She held her stone pyramid aloft. “And you.”
Thana’s heart ached to say yes and for more than loving feelings. She absolutely did not want to go alone, but…“I’m the royal pyradisté. It’s my duty. And the closer we come to that pyramid, the more it will pull at you.” She grabbed Sylph’s hands before she could argue. “And you might use it without meaning to.” She kissed Sylph’s hands and threw caution out the window. Now wasn’t the time for secrets. “The capstone, the pyramid you first detected below, imprisons a Fiend. Of the monstrous variety. You’ve probably heard of them in stories, but they’re real. Or this one is. The capstone is Fiend magic, a discipline known only to royal pyradistés. Or it’s supposed to be. The rogues have made their own Fiend pyramid, and no matter what they think it does, I have to stop them using it near the capstone and waking a monster.”
Sylph frowned hard, her eyes unfocused as if she’d fallen partway into a pyramid or was slightly drunk. It was absolutely the former, but Thana’s mind was reeling, babbling away.
Thana backed up a few steps. “If Gunnar doesn’t come, you have to find him. Please, Sylph. I…” But she couldn’t say that her task might be impossible while alone. It couldn’t be.
Sylph took a few steps after her, but she was slow. Thana lit another light pyramid and commanded it to stay on. She set it on the floor and turned, blocking out the sound of Sylph’s few footsteps. She didn’t know how long Sylph’s control could last—another ticking clock to worry about—but it would weaken the closer Sylph came to the new crystal. Better to be alone in this even if that thought made Thana want to vomit.
And what in the spirits’ names could she do by herself if the rogues had reached the capstone cavern? She wanted to try a lock, though she’d never done that alone. And she didn’t know if she could fight a host of her peers, especially if they started canceling her pyramids.
She clenched a fist. She could yell, plead, warn them to stop. They couldn’t know what they’d be doing by tapping into the capstone. Yanchasa’s awakening would kill them all. It would most likely kill everyone in the palace, then in Marienne, once the great Fiend was loose. She’d tell them that, too. No matter how motivated they were to be autonomous or even in charge, they had to possess some self-preservation. And hopefully, some reason.
She hurried through the secret passageways, going lower until the bricks gave way to natural stone. When she arrived at the stout door to the capstone chamber, she pressed her hand to the lock, and the door opened with a groan of rusty hinges.
The cavern stood empty, the capstone protruding from the floor to at least half her height. It glowed softly, a homey counterpoint to its general malevolence. She stepped inside, searching the shadows and breathing easier when no one peered back at her.
Now for the lock. She didn’t have the pyramid that let her communicate with the capstone. It was in her office. But she didn’t think she’d need it. It was only used in conjunction with the four sets of manacles at the capstone’s base, where the Umbriels stood when they shed their anti-Fiend necklaces that kept their Aspects inside during a ritual known as the Waltz.
And after all this was over, the Waltz might have to happen sooner than anyone thought.
But not right at this moment. She pulled out her mind pyramid and prayed to the spirits of knowledge that she’d be strong enough to lock the capstone alone and keep anyone else from using it.
* * *
Sylph wanted to protest as Thana left her behind, but it took most of her energy just to stand. And part of her knew Thana’s argument made sense. The closer she came to that pyramid, the harder it would be to keep from using it, whatever it did.
Like awaken a great Fiend, some fairytale made life. The new siren-like pyramid she’d sensed hadn’t felt as evil as Thana seemed to think it was, but it had been very seductive, and she sensed its ability to change those around it. Into what, she didn’t know. It might change people into whatever she’d felt underground, a thing that seemed eerily similar to what she’d sensed in the mountains.
Fiends?
Impossible, surely.
But she’d never get any answers by lingering here.
Thana seemed to think she’d need more help than just the two of them, so Sylph would find it for her. She scooped up the light pyramid and looked back down the hall, wondering which way to go, but there was no time to figure it out. She could find her way easier inside the palace proper. Running into her father didn’t seem as great a problem compared to saving Thana’s life.
She fell into her stone pyramid, wrenching her senses away from the siren pull below. She focused on the bastion of stone around her, block upon block, and made herself ignore their history, fighting to feel the present and view the palace like a map until she found a nearby gap that signaled a hallway.
She’d have to work quickly or she might destabilize the floors above. With a groan of sliding rock, the wall opened before her, then reformed as she stepped past, fitting together from memory. She passed through the wall into a light-filled hallway.
A slight shudder rumbled through the building, nearly lost as someone screamed and fled from her. She ignored them and studied the hall, seeing no furnishings on the walls, no rugs to protect the slipper-clad feet of courtiers or nobles. Servants’ halls. She needed to go higher.
She imagined the wall before her as a staircase, and it was so, reforming as she passed, but warning her again that pulling at the stone around her could damage the palace in other areas, and she was forced to keep her senses wide open, trying to move quickly but with care.
Hopefully, anyone who saw her would think her a dream.
She emerged into a large room with the rug bunched into a corner by her power. It was a place where the queen often held court, but it stood empty now. She hurried to the hall outside, got her bearings, and strode as fast as she could toward the stairs that would take her toward the royal quarters.
Courtiers thronged this area of the palace. As she threaded through them, she ignored any comments or questions. Word of her arrival was no doubt already on its way to her father’s ears, another reason to hurry. She kept her focus tight on her pyramid, though the siren call had dimmed. Even so, she nearly sprinted up the next staircase.
And stopped. No guards stood at the entry to the royal quarters.
That wasn’t right. She sent her senses out again and noted the trap pyramids nestled in the walls. They hadn’t been canceled or set off, so the royal apartments might still be safe, but even if the queen and the prince weren’t in their rooms, someone should be on guard.
She turned, frowning, searching, and spotted movement down the hall, turning the corner toward where the council chambers waited. It seemed a likely place to find out what was happening.
Even if her father might be there.
Sylph took a deep breath, spurred into motion when she heard footsteps on the stairs. She couldn’t linger and be questioned by curious courtiers or palace guards, so she rushed for the council chambers. As she turned the corner, she saw guards on the room, but the door stood slightly ajar.
She drew herself up as the guards stepped in front of the doors, barring her way. “Lady Sylph Montague,” she said archly. “Stand aside.”
They didn’t even look at her, didn’t seem to be looking at anything, not even the pyramid in her hand.
They didn’t even blink.
And she didn’t have time to figure out why. She pulled a block of stone from either side of the door—making it sag slightly on its hinges—and used the stone to pin the guards to the walls. They didn’t protest, certainly hypnotized.
She stepped closer and slowly pushed on the door. Her father’s raised voice greeted her, and she paused. He rarely yelled, and she tried not to let it unnerve her as he berated a small group of men and women clustered in one corner.
“You’ve gone too far,” he cried.
Sylph edged closer. Her father stood in front of a group of his peers on the far side of the table. At the head sat the queen and prince, both with vacant expressions similar to that of the guards. Sylph clenched her jaw to steel her nerves and took another step. Her father turned at the movement, gawking. She nearly laughed to see him so discomfited, so human. She recognized all those who stood with him, but the group in the corner were strangers to her.
All but one, she realized as she focused on a lone woman who stood to the side of the queen’s chair. Lady Lucia, the queen’s current lover.
* * *
Thana stepped back from the capstone, not happy with the hasty lock, but it would have to do. At least the rumbling had stopped, so she supposed she’d accomplished something. She didn’t want to detect the rogues’ pyramids again, not wanting them to know they’d been discovered…if they didn’t know already. The last thing she needed was for them to try to cancel her pyramids.
Or, spirits forbid, the capstone.
She needed more pyramids than those she carried. She’d have to raid her office. She could check on Sylph, too, escort her upstairs if she was still waiting on Gunnar or collect him if he’d made it.
She raced out of the cavern and up into the secret passages. When she rounded the corner to find Sylph gone, she wasn’t even that surprised, though she’d been hoping for a better outcome.
“You did tell her to find the Order if they didn’t show,” she mumbled. Maybe she’d get lucky and run into all of them in the royal quarters.
She had to exit the passages and go up the main stairs, hoping again that one day, she could travel the entire palace within the walls. The halls were buzzing with the news that Lady Sylph, dressed all in black like a mummer, had appeared out of nowhere. As Thana wound her way through gossiping courtiers, the story grew from simple gossip about Sylph’s purpose to more bizarre stories, with everything from a murderous gleam in Sylph’s eye to the image of her screaming about wild Fiends.
It seemed no one had seen her pyramid. Or perhaps they hadn’t cared to see a noble with peasant magic. And it wasn’t snobby to think so. She was trying to give more nobles the benefit of the doubt, but these were courtiers, deserving of scorn, especially when the comment she heard most was some variation of, “Did you see her hair?” followed by mocking laughter. Thana was tempted to shout the truth about noble pyradistés and give them something real to talk about, proving that Gunnar had been right not to tell her.
She turned away from the stairs that led to the royal apartments, not wanting to bother with the guards or give any watching courtiers a reason to follow. Instead, she ducked into an empty alcove and slipped behind a painting, entering the secret passage that led to her office. Once there, she took a moment to breathe in the scent of leather and old books, catch her breath, and gather her courage. People needed her, and she wasn’t going to let them down.
After stuffing her satchel with useful pyramids, she hesitated at the Fiend pyramid that linked with the capstone, then packed it, too, keeping it in the box so she didn’t accidentally grab it and help the rogues destroy the city.
Now she’d have to risk the royal halls, but at least she’d be on the other side of the guards and away from prying eyes. She opened her office door and hurried toward the queen’s apartment. Gunnar had to have explained things to her by now. He was probably with her at that—
The door to the queen’s apartment stood open. It was never left that way. Earnhilt valued her privacy too much.
Thana slipped a hand into her satchel and readied a flash bomb. The rogues couldn’t have gotten in here. She glanced at the traps in the walls that she hadn’t disarmed earlier. They were still clear, gleaming with warning for those who approached with murderous intent.
She leaned around the door, surveying the room. Lady Lucia, the queen’s lover, lay on one of the couches, her eyes closed. Thana envied her ability to nap during a crisis. But why leave the door open?
And why was she so still?
Thana took a step inside, pyramid at the ready. When someone grabbed her from the side, yanking her into the room, she managed to toss the pyramid, but someone else dove from behind the couch and caught it before it could shatter.
“Illis?” Thana said. Someone pulled on her shoulder, and she whipped her head around, flinching away from a fist poised to strike, but it paused, revealing Dina behind it.
“Thana,” she said. “Thank the spirits.”
* * *
“Sylph?” her father said, brows drawn in confusion. Then his jaw tightened as if seeing his daughter made him more in control. “Go to our apartment. I’ll be there shortly.”
Her recent practice at maintaining control made it easy to ignore him, even as much as her body wanted to automatically obey.
But she was finished with his tyranny. “No.”
His jaw fell with such alacrity, it was a wonder it didn’t drop from its sockets and fall to the floor.
Lady Lucia laughed. “So she does have a tongue in her head.” Her eyes widened as she glanced at Sylph’s pyramid. “I was hoping I wasn’t the only pyradisté with noble blood. Come to join the cause?” She rested a hand on the queen’s shoulder and lifted her own pyramid.
Sylph kept her face blank. Thana would have shouted defiance, but she had no idea where the battle lines stood, only that she should keep the Umbriels safe for Thana’s sake and all her talk of Fiends.
And Lady Lucia clearly had the upper hand. The queen and prince sat like statues, hypnotized. Could the lady kill them with a thought?
“I’ve come to learn,” Sylph said carefully. “I’ve heard much in the past few days.”
Lady Lucia inclined her head. “Clearly, you’ve discovered that noble pyradistés aren’t as impossible as once claimed. The crown feared us and so attempted to eradicate us, but we have now returned, and with our brethren”—she indicated those who stood with her—“we will create a new ruling class.”
“That is not what we agreed,” Sylph’s father said. He slammed his hand against a chair, but his outrage seemed to stem more from Lady Lucia’s words about the ruling class than from the revelation about noble pyradistés.
He knew, then.
Perhaps had always known.
All her worry, her anguish, and he’d already known about noble pyradistés but had never said a word? She felt a weight in her chest, a simmering pit of anger.
No, not now. She had to pay attention.
The six nobles behind her father were nodding and muttering to themselves about how they’d been duped, and pyradistés would never rule. Sylph wondered where the rest of the nobles were. Assembling another faction, or had they been silenced by this crumbling cabal?
“We were to secure the rule of Farraday in the hands of the council where it belongs.” Her father gestured at the people in the corner, who moved closer to Lady Lucia and the Umbriels. “Not in the hands of the cursed peasantry.”
Several of the “cursed peasantry” had pyramids, which they didn’t hesitate to brandish as they muttered, but none of them attacked. They’d had practice biding their time.
Lady Lucia barked a laugh. “They have more nobility than you ever will, Montague. But don’t worry, they’ll have titles soon enough. All except yours, which will be Lady Sylph’s.” She gave a beatific smile and inclined her head. “Duchess.”
A clever ploy. Would she hypnotize the nobles into signing away their lands before she killed them, or would she even bother? “What of those pyradistés who oppose this scheme?” Sylph asked. “Like the royal pyradisté?”
“Any traitors who choose them over us shall be dealt with,” one of the pyradistés said, the gravel of hatred in his voice. “We’ll soon have enough crystal to deal with all comers.”
Not anymore, but she didn’t mention that she’d buried it.
“Quite right, Headmaster,” Lady Lucia said. “But if you’ve any favorites among them, Lady…I beg your pardon, Duchess Sylph, I’m sure we can leave you to persuade them.”
Sylph’s father turned a chair over like a child throwing a fit. He wasn’t used to being ignored. “Sylph.” He breathed hard, his disbelief so clear, she expected it to take shape. “I…” He glanced at the pyramid in her hand at last, and she expected disgust, even hatred, but Lady Lucia had clearly changed him, at least a little.
“Are you going to ask me to save you?” Sylph could hardly believe he wasn’t commanding her to do so. It was almost enough to make her want to give Lady Lucia’s idea a try.
“Must I ask?” He blinked, and she would have given her eyeteeth to know what he was thinking.
She sneered as she stepped farther into the room. She couldn’t let time get away from her, not while other pyradistés were skulking in tunnels and sniffing around ancient pyramids. Still, she had to ask. “Are you expecting filial affection?”
Her father took a step back as if the idea of affection scared him more than anything. “Family loyalty is—”
She laughed. “The pyradistés I’ve met have been more like family than you ever have.” Well, one had anyway.
Lady Lucia joined in her mirth, eyes sparkling. She wasn’t at all the stupid creature rumor painted her to be. And the differences didn’t stop there. The closer Sylph came, the more she spotted. She’d memorized the looks of every noble, and this one had a slightly different curve to the mouth than Lady Lucia and fewer dimples, and the eyes were a bit closer together than the simpering moron the queen doted on.
This wasn’t Lady Lucia, but they could be sisters. Even twins.
