Lady of Stone, page 29
She held her breath and stood firm. She would keep going. For Sylph.
A whisper in dual voices slid around inside her skull: “She’s dead.”
“No!” She let anger overtake her, adding to it all her worries about her worthiness, the kingdom, her friends, and Sylph. If this monster thought her sorrow would be greater than her desire for vengeance, it could think again.
With a cry of rage, Thana used the Fiendish Aspects like a battering ram, pummeling Yanchasa under their weight. His control faltered, awareness slipping. Thana didn’t let up her assault until she felt him go slack, and even then, she kept blanketing him under the weight of his kindred until they howled.
At last, she dropped her pyramid and ran for the stone stairs.
* * *
Sylph came back to herself slowly. She barely recognized her own body. She still sagged in her own stone prison, not sure where she ended and the rock began. The softness, that was her, and the stone scraped against her. It hurt.
It would be so easy to lose herself in the stone magic, to leave her fragile flesh behind. Why would she want it when she could be hard, immovable, indestructible?
Alone.
That idea could piss off, as Thana would say.
Stone couldn’t have a nice bath, then cuddle with a lover and sleep for two whole weeks. That sounded wonderful. All she had to do was bring herself into the light. She reached for her power.
Nothing happened.
A twinge of worry went through her. The smooth side of her pyramid still rested in her palm. The stone called to her as it had since this adventure began, but it would not obey. Maybe it could grow tired, too?
Impossible, surely.
Still, when she commanded it…nothing.
Worry turned to panic, fluttering in her like a bird against its cage. She tried to cry out, but only a dry wheeze hissed through the darkness. Every breath hurt her throat and chest, sealing her with dust, turning her to stone from the inside out.
No, this couldn’t be how she died. She tried again to call for Thana, to say she was sorry for leaving her like this, to tell her that this feeling had to be love because it filled her and resonated and terrified her more than anything, and her one regret was that she hadn’t felt it for longer. But no one had ever told her about it, and she hadn’t known she could have it, and that was all so unfair, and—
A ringing sound vibrated through the stone, and she heard the rise and fall of some other noise. Water? Was she hallucinating? Perhaps already dead? No, she could not fathom being dead and still so uncomfortable. That would be most unfair.
Wait. It was voices, not water.
Sylph tried to cry out again, and her head buzzed with the sound, but she didn’t know if it reached very far. The voices and the ringing paused before picking up again, louder and faster.
“Sylph?” Thana’s voice, muffled by the rock.
“Here.” Not more than a whisper, but maybe Thana would hear.
Another voice joined Thana’s. They were digging, her pyramid telling her of strikes against the rock. She had to help, desperate to get out now that the normally comforting rock felt more like a trap. She gripped her pyramid. Maybe she could manage something.
Sluggishly, the power flowed from her again, bolstered by her need to see Thana’s face.
Someone cried out above as the stone loosened, becoming gravel. Hands replaced tools as the earth shifted, and fingers flitted along Sylph’s hair, tilting her face toward light and air. She breathed deep, wanting to call Thana’s name, but her voice wouldn’t work.
“I’ve got her head,” Thana said. Sylph tried to open her eyes, but they stung with grit.
“I can see that,” Calla said, sounding as irritated as ever. “Do you mind helping with the rest of her?”
Thana mumbled something, and they pulled on Sylph’s jacket, grunting as they freed her from the ground. She tried to help but could barely move, her muscles quivering and burning at the very thought.
Thana’s lips pressed to her forehead. “Sylph, can you hear me?”
“Less kissing, more pulling,” Calla said.
“Oh, shut up.”
“You shut up.”
Sylph wanted to tell them both to keep talking forever as long as it meant she was alive. She managed to chuckle, and they paused in their bickering a moment before starting again, not stopping until they’d laid her on the ground.
“I’m going to check on the others at the capstone,” Calla said as she breathed hard. “I hope for your sake they’ve regained consciousness because I am not helping you carry her on my own.”
“Piss off, then,” Thana said. There was a smidge of affection in her voice, though Sylph couldn’t detect any in Calla’s as she grumbled and left.
Sylph groaned as Thana lifted her and laid her head on Thana’s lap. With a grateful shudder, she managed to flop her arm up so Thana could hold her hand.
“You’ll be all right,” Thana said with tears in her voice.
Sylph tried to reassure her, but her voice still wouldn’t obey.
“You’ll have to speak up,” Thana said as she lifted Sylph’s hand and kissed it. “My ears are still blown from…well, time enough for stories later. Everyone is alive. That’s the main thing.”
Yes. And all everything else needed was time. “I love you,” she mouthed. Time or not, she’d learned that it couldn’t be said often enough.
“I love you, too,” Thana said. “I may not have worked out all the details, but I promise, our future will be better than this.”
Chapter Twenty-three
It was three weeks before Thana had everything figured out. The knowledge of noble pyradistés had spread quickly, but the details about the failed coup were kept quiet. The lesser players had happily traded information in order to spare their lives.
The ringleaders turned out to be Headmaster Cyrus, who had tired of living under the thumb of those with higher stations; and Lady Lucia’s sister Anastasia, who no longer wished to live in pyradisté purgatory and wanted a taste of her sister’s life at court.
But she couldn’t insert herself into the palace without causing a stir. Her family had been telling everyone she’d died young. And she couldn’t trade places with her sister without the queen noticing, not to mention the nobles who paid attention to their brethren as closely as Sylph.
The two had joined forces, biding their time, not wanting their coup to be put down as quickly as the last one, when the nobles and royals had cut off access to the crystal north of Allusia. When Cyrus’s scouts—who had already been seeking a new source of crystal out of sight of the monarchy—found the remains of a crystal-filled glacier near the northern mountains, Anastasia and Cyrus had decided to put their plans into action and take power.
They’d found willing parties in some of the nobility, those still grumbling that they ought to have won the Troubles. They’d also thought that a noble pyradisté like Anastasia would end up on their side rather than on the side of the pyradistés, who would naturally obey the nobles’ council. But Anastasia had chosen the side of the pyradistés, and whether her sister had helped her willingly or had been hypnotized into doing so was a point of contention.
Anastasia claimed that Lucia had aided the rebels of her own accord, but Earnhilt didn’t want to believe it. She’d stormed around her apartment that night, claiming that Anastasia’s words were simply a desperate woman wanting to avoid yet another charge of hypnotism.
“Why else would they have killed her?” Earnhilt said as she drained an entire cup of wine in two swallows. They’d had Lady Lucia’s funeral that afternoon, and Earnhilt had been drinking ever since. Luckily, she’d kept to her apartment all evening, but Thana had to check on her now and again before returning to her apartment where Sylph was waiting.
Thana swallowed her smile and shrugged to Earnhilt’s question, not wanting to argue with someone not only deep in her cups but grieving. “Anastasia claims to be innocent of that murder. She says it was a noble who did it, but I suspect it was a pyradisté who didn’t want to risk having any non-pyradistés in charge or even in a position to sway Anastasia.”
Earnhilt stared into her glass. “Any idea which one?”
Thana shook her head. “As pyradistés, their minds are unreadable.”
“I know.” She spoke softly, swaying a little.
“Why not go to bed, Majesty?”
“So you can get back to your lady’s loving arms?” Her tone was wistful, her gaze resting on nothing. Thana didn’t want to answer, not when it was true, and Earnhilt’s love was in the ground. How much they’d been in love—if they’d ever been—didn’t seem to matter now. “Go on,” Earnhilt said. “I’m going to brood a while longer, but I’ll be all right.”
Thana gave her a very awkward pat on the arm, but it garnered a smile. As she was leaving, Earnhilt called her name and said, “I’m glad you made it out alive.”
Thana nodded. “You, too, Majesty.” As she walked out the door, she was thankful for that, too. The only injury she carried was deafness in her left ear from a Fiendish scream.
It could have been so much worse.
According to the captives, once the pyradistés had begun to plan, they hadn’t agreed on how to proceed. Some had wanted to eliminate Thana as soon as possible, seeing her as a traitor to their cause for ever working with the Umbriels and knowing she was the best source of knowledge the crown had about what a pyradisté could do.
She didn’t know whether to be upset or grimly gratified by that.
Her visit with Sylph to the academy had been marked, and they’d been followed to the manor house. But the pyradistés who’d escaped hadn’t understood Sylph’s abilities any better than they understood the pyradistés who’d also been unfortunately affected by the new crystal, most of whom had blown themselves to bits.
Thana had spent a great deal of time these past weeks hunting down any bits of new crystal that remained in Marienne and the surrounding countryside. Most of the accidents she’d traced had been because shipments of the crystal had passed under manors or towns where pyradistés had been.
It was a sad business and more charges to be laid at the traitors’ feet.
Thana went through her office without stopping, heading for her bedroom. And Sylph. She opened the door softly. A single candle burned on the vanity table, the flickering light highlighting the gold in Sylph’s hair where it spread across the pillow. Her eyes were shut, and Thana began to undress as quietly as she could, her mind still processing the traitors’ other plans.
Some thought to flood Marienne with new crystal before acting and had focused on tunneling. But they’d gotten distracted by the capstone’s promise of power. Luckily, any who’d gotten close enough to try to touch the capstone were dead, and the secret of the great Fiend remained known only to a few.
To make sure no one attempted to scale the Fiendish prison again, Gunnar had left a message on the walls where the pyradistés had died below the palace: “Do not seek the Fiend, or you shall die as these.” He’d signed it with a stylized O and V, hoping that a message that came from a clandestine—though sometimes storybook—operation would keep people in line.
Thana doubted such a message would be needed, not when Sylph had filled in her stone staircase and a great deal of tunnel out in the countryside, leaving no way for anyone to get under the capstone cavern again.
Still other members of the cabal had wanted to capture the Umbriels before anything else, thinking that holding them prisoner would force any straggling nobles into line. They thought standing the Umbriels up like puppets would convince the populace that everything was all right. And they might have succeeded, but they’d been unprepared for a power like Sylph’s.
So had Thana.
She slipped between the cool sheets, wondering if she could snuggle close without waking Sylph, but Sylph opened her eyes, smiled, and drew her in.
* * *
Thana awoke early the next morning and lay still, listening to Sylph sleep. The night before came back in a rush, and she smiled, happy her fatigue had fled the moment Sylph had kissed her with unrestrained passion.
They’d spent a lot of time in Thana’s bedroom, with Sylph preferring to hide where few could find her. Gunnar had stopped by once to talk about the rumors in court, most of them about why some nobles had vanished, but many were about that newly discovered creature: the noble pyradisté. A popular rumor tied the stories together, saying that a boatload of nobles had recently discovered they were pyradistés and had retired from court in shame.
That story was easier to cope with than the real one: the traitorous nobles had been forced to renounce their titles, which were then handed to their heirs, providing said heirs were not also part of the scheming. Some ex-nobles had been banned from court or exiled from Farraday. And Earnhilt hadn’t pronounced sentence on all of them yet.
Like Sylph’s father, whose assistance saved him from the noose. He’d recovered from the Waltz with only a few dark memories, a Fiendish Aspect repressed by an anti-Fiend necklace, and a scar on his cheek. And the scar wasn’t even from this transformation but from being punched by a guard for resisting arrest before the Waltz. Thana thought it only fitting that he should be marked in some way.
She slipped out of bed, wanting to let Sylph sleep. Since their adventure had ended, she’d been, well, desperate to show her appreciation of Thana’s charms. She’d said she was done with putting off showing how she felt.
Thana wasn’t going to argue, though she was getting tired of how the Order acted whenever she showed her face, like Illis’s chuckles and Ivar’s winks, Gunnar’s leers, and Dina’s proud grins. Even Earnhilt had given her a smirk or two.
Thana donned her robe, lit the candle on the vanity, and sat to comb her hair into a neat ponytail. She grinned at the number of toiletries Sylph had scattered around. Earnhilt had offered them a maidservant, but Sylph had ardently refused, fearing spies. For Sylph’s comfort, Thana had agreed that they could see to their own things, though she’d forgotten just how many things Sylph had.
As Thana checked her reflection in her bronze hand-mirror, Sylph yawned from the bed and said, “Is it morning already?”
“I suppose so. Though we’ve spent so much time in here, I’ve lost track.”
There was a smile in Sylph’s voice as she asked, “Was that a recrimination?”
“Absolutely not.” Thana sat on the edge of her bed, marveling that this perfect woman should be here. Her tanned skin seemed to shine against the dark sheets, and as she sat up, Thana had to remind herself not to stare.
Sylph chuckled, and Thana knew she’d been found out. Sylph didn’t miss much, even if some expressions of emotion were still a mystery to her.
But she was well acquainted with lust by now.
Sylph took her hand and kissed her fingers. “I’m glad to know I can still entice you.”
“It’s only been a few weeks. I won’t go off you for at least a few months.”
“How sweet,” Sylph said wryly.
“It’s not for nothing that I have a reputation as a lothario.” She stroked Sylph’s cheek as they both laughed at the obvious lie. Thana sighed. “You’re the first person to spend the night in here apart from me.”
“I’m honored, and I wouldn’t say I’ve been apart from you very much.”
Thana laughed. “Very nice. Worthy of Dina.”
Mention of someone else made Sylph sigh, and Thana regretted it, though they both had to leave this room soon. “My father’s fate is to be decided today,” Sylph said as if reading Thana’s mind. Or maybe it had just come back to her, too.
“Earnhilt saved him for last so you could think on it and render your opinion.”
“That seems less like a boon and more like a punishment.”
Thana would have argued, but she didn’t. Sylph already knew that she’d like to see Duke Felix rotting in prison. “And have you formed an opinion?”
With a groan, Sylph scooted forward and buried her head in Thana’s shoulder. Thana held her, telling herself not to get lost in the feel of her warm skin but to think only of giving comfort. She couldn’t afford to distract them both, and evidence had shown that Sylph would definitely let herself be distracted given the chance.
“Will you be angry if I say I haven’t decided?” Sylph asked.
“No, you can leave it entirely to the queen.”
“And what is she likely to do?”
Thana sighed, and Sylph pulled back to look her in the eye. At least she wasn’t weeping, but she’d said before that she’d cried out her feelings for her father long ago. Thana fumbled for Sylph’s robe and draped it around her before she stood to pace, thinking better when she was in motion, especially when trying to have a care with what she said.
“The nobles involved in the coup have all been forced to abdicate their positions to their heirs, and many have had to surrender all titles and honors, and a few have been exiled from Farraday. Anastasia and Headmaster Cyrus will hang.”
Sylph remained silent. She knew all this, but she seemed happy to let Thana think aloud, no doubt used to it by now.
“Your father would be joining them or spending his life in prison if he hadn’t helped us with Yanchasa. At the very least, you will be the new duchess, but I doubt your family will lose any land like some did.” She pointed at Sylph. “But that’s because of your help, not his.”
Sylph smiled. “Thank you.”
Thana resumed pacing again now that she’d reminded Sylph that she’d done more for the kingdom than her father had. “So the question is really, do you want your father forbidden to leave court and stuck here with no titles save being Duchess Sylph’s father? Or do you want him banned from court and stuck at your home up north? Earnhilt doesn’t want to exile him, not with a Fiend, but if you ask her, she might.” When Sylph didn’t respond, Thana kept thinking aloud. “If he’s here, the queen could keep an eye on him while you’re not at court, and since he no doubt still wants his family to increase its holdings, he’ll keep his ears open and report to you about other nobles’ schemes.”
