Lady of Stone, page 5
She kept her chin tilted up, her eyes half-lidded as she gave each a brief look. When she glanced down the hall, Thana had stopped, staring. “Pyradisté Thana,” Sylph said politely. She lifted a hand as if signaling that the way was clear. “After you.”
With a squeak, the courtiers hastened to get out of Thana’s way, nearly pressing themselves into the walls.
Thana’s mouth twitched, but she bowed to Sylph, ignoring the courtiers. “Thank you, my lady.” She hurried past.
Sylph resisted the urge to walk with her, but they couldn’t be seen as friends. She gave the courtiers another bland look, but as two opened their mouths, she strode past, hoping her frosty aura kept them from following. They stayed where they were, and as some of them cursed the one who’d nearly censured her, she fought the urge to smile.
No, no. She couldn’t smile. It wasn’t a happy occasion. Quicksand was what it was, as dangerous as any fen that bordered her father’s land. Who knew what gossip would come of that encounter, how much would spread to her father, and then there’d be questions, and…
Sylph clenched a fist behind her back. Her father could do nothing to Thana. Even if Sylph marched into his study and declared them friends or lovers or betrothed, he couldn’t touch Thana because she was the prince’s friend and the queen’s pyradisté, and those were two untouchables, even with his considerable reach.
She glided down another hall, found a vacant spot, and leaned against the wall, forcing herself to breathe. It was too dangerous to be out here at all. Too many eyes, too many secrets, and what would she do if the terrible magic reared in her again? Her father would…he would…
Disown her. Incredible, heartbreaking freedom opened up before her like a pit. A chance to get out from her father’s reins but also the likelihood of starving to death with no money, no friends, and nowhere to go. Maybe Thana the raven would let her sleep on the floor in her apartment.
Sylph snorted. As intriguing as that was, it also wasn’t likely.
No, she would continue her plan: learn to control her power, wait, inherit one day, be free.
She turned toward her apartment, strolling, aloof look in place, but she lingered whenever she heard gossip. Pyradistés had always been sneered at, but there was fear in some voices now. The tale of the murderer had spread, and so had others about rogue pyradistés running amok. Some were worried, but Sylph couldn’t afford that luxury. Whether the rumor was true or not didn’t matter. If the courtiers inside the palace felt secure enough to mock the queen’s pyradisté, what would the pyradistés outside suffer at the hands of their class?
* * *
Thana couldn’t stop censuring herself for mocking Sylph in her head. She’d been a bully, as bad a snob as those who looked down on her. She’d looked down on Sylph for wanting her power gone.
Well, she’d never be far enough above a noble to look down on one. Maybe sideways. Or up and to the side or—
She shook her head. It didn’t matter. What did was that the faces of those courtiers had been as easy to read as a child’s chapter book. They’d wanted trouble, and she’d been going to give it to them, but Sylph had stepped among their ranks like a queen carved from solid ice and made them give way.
And she hadn’t had to bark an order. She’d just given Thana the courtesy she was due as a human being, not to mention someone who lived near the royals and worked with them, too.
As Thana stalked down the hall, she came around from gratitude to recrimination again. She couldn’t fall for one kind gesture. Sylph wouldn’t have done anything if Thana hadn’t saved her earlier. By the spirits, she had to put Sylph and all these tangled emotions from her mind. She had exploding pyramids to deal with.
And she’d guessed why the courtiers felt they could confront her. She’d heard the rumors about pyradistés going mad. She’d paid a visit to the Pyradisté Academy, trying to find out more about the exploding pyramids, and while she’d been there, she’d heard a few stories. Headmaster Cyrus had told her that the man accused of killing his employer—and not the family, as rumor had it—had then been killed by household guards. Another pyradisté was supposedly imprisoned for another crime, but the stories disputed the location. She’d sent some contacts to check, wanting to get hold of the pyradisté as soon as she could and find out what had actually happened before they met the queen’s justice.
In the meantime, she’d added her voice to the headmaster’s and warned students to stay close to the academy and its walls. Pyradistés who’d been terminated from their positions had returned there, too, and they could quickly become overcrowded. A few had loudly declared that the people of Marienne should be taught a lesson in who possessed the power, but Thana had done her best to quell such feelings. The last thing they needed was fighting in the streets or a return to some of the darker days in Farraday’s history when wielding pyramids was punishable by execution.
Thana needed to meet with Gunnar and the rest of the Order of Vestra. Luckily, Gunnar was already thinking ahead. She received a message from him that afternoon, just as she was going to send her own, a summons to meet on a secluded balcony accessible only by a secret set of stairs. Hanna’s Retreat, Gunnar called it, after his grandmother, who’d built it as somewhere to get away from court life now and again.
There were a few more secret passages in the palace walls. Thana hoped they’d crisscross the whole palace someday, maybe when all the new construction was done. Then she wouldn’t have so far to go and wouldn’t have to wander the hallways until the entrance to a secret passage was clear of passersby.
She paused in the alcove where this passage was hidden and studied the tapestry that concealed it. Some old sailing ship or another. She didn’t care and had to repress the desire to tap her foot as a servant wandered past. At least she wasn’t politically active enough for any courtier to try to follow her.
That led her back to thoughts of Sylph and the deft way she’d gotten the courtiers out of the way. Thana smiled again, even in the face of the same dark thoughts that warned her to not get too attached and to mind her heart. Even if her thoughts wandered no further than admiration, Sylph could break her in two. It was just what nobles did, use people until there was nothing left.
Finally, the hall emptied, and Thana lifted the tapestry and stepped behind it. The wall slid soundlessly open, and Thana stepped through, letting the tapestry fall back and leaving her in the dim light filtering from the top of the stairs.
At the top, Gunnar waited on a balcony overlooking the fields surrounding Marienne. A hint of chill remained in the air, but the fields and forest beyond popped with every hue of green. The river sparkled in the distance, curling out of sight as it flowed away from the docks and down to the sea.
Thana leaned on the low wall beside Gunnar. His face was relaxed, with none of the languid airs he usually donned. Thana always saw through those to the coiled anticipation underneath, but here, out of the eye of courtly magpies, he could actually loosen up.
The chill of the bricks bled through Thana’s cassock, numbing her arms, but she stayed still, mimicking Gunnar’s thoughtful pose. “The others coming?” she asked.
He shook his head. “They’re out collecting rumors. Have you heard any?”
“About the pyradistés? Or is there another crisis?”
He snorted. “When has there ever been just one? But yes, the pyradistés.”
“I’ve heard about one in prison and another killed after committing murder. Those are the only confirmations I was able to get from the academy. All else is conjecture.”
He shook his head, and his face tightened. “Not all. There was an explosion at the treasury.”
Thana’s stomach rolled over. “A pyramid?”
“It exploded while a pyradisté was carrying it.”
Thana’s head drooped onto her arms, and she imagined the cold penetrating through to her skull. “Spirits above. Was anyone else hurt?”
“Luckily no. And the treasury kept it quiet, not wanting anyone to think their money was in danger. They sent a note to my mother.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, thank the spirits the money’s all right.”
He glared. “Anything that keeps people from panicking is a good thing.”
She wanted to retort, but arguing didn’t seem important at the moment. “Where did you send the others?”
“Dina is collecting gossip from the chapterhouses.”
Thana nodded. Even though Dina was a monk who worshiped the spirits of love and beauty, she’d be more welcome in the other chapterhouses, too, simply because she was a monk.
“I’ve told Ivar and Illis to go where they deem necessary in order to sort pyramid rumor from fact.”
Another nod. The twin brothers were good at gathering info with one being very personable and talkative, and the other being quiet and contemplative. People warmed to the first and forgot the second was there. “Anything yet?”
“It’s too soon. I wanted to talk to you in person, far away from anyone who might listen in.” He sighed. “And away from any pyramids that might explode.”
“Glad I’m not carrying any,” she said with a smile she didn’t feel. “At least your anti-Fiend necklace shouldn’t go off with a bang.” She put a hand on his shoulder and wanted to tell him it would be all right, but he’d always been the optimist. He usually only needed her to tell him when they were doomed. “My research hasn’t uncovered anything except that what’s happening shouldn’t be happening.” At his smirk, she added, “I know, big help. I’m going to work with the noble who was present at the first explosion tomorrow. With luck, I’ll find a clue about this whole mess.”
“And then you’ll tell me who this mysterious noble is?”
She swallowed, still hesitant to give up that secret. She imagined what might happen if the courtiers and the other nobles discovered a secret pyradisté in their midst right when pyradistés seemed like the enemy. “Soon,” she said, drawing the word out.
His mouth twisted with skepticism. “If she’s a danger…”
“You’ll know it.” She waited a moment, staring at the river. “Because she’ll explode.”
He sputtered a laugh, and it was good to see him relax a little. “Please let me know before that…unless you’ve exploded, too.”
“Deal.” They went back to staring at the vista, and a wandering doubt passed through her head. What if Gunnar sent the Order away for more than just sniffing out rumors? What if he didn’t want them to meet with Thana because she was a pyradisté just like those who’d become murderers or bombs? “You haven’t…” She couldn’t finish.
He turned and waited, never one to let a thought go unfinished. “Haven’t what?” He lifted his eyebrows.
She tried to ask, but she couldn’t accuse him of not trusting her. The very thought was almost too painful. “Never mind.”
Now he laid a comforting hand on hers. “You’ll figure it out. I have complete faith.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled. She prayed to the spirits of knowledge that he was right. “I’m sure the noble will give me a lead, then I can follow it up in my own books or at the academy.” All information he knew or could at least figure out, but she was reluctant to leave him yet. Even if he didn’t doubt her now, he might soon, but she didn’t know how to ask for comfort.
She sighed. When had her thoughts become so jumbled?
“Something you want to ask?” He leaned against the wall, an elbow propped on the ledge and one ankle crossed over the other, the picture of relaxed, the master of putting people at ease. “Something about this mysterious noble, perhaps?”
She blinked, wondering how he could have known, but as his smile grew, she knew her reaction had just told him something. “You’re guessing.”
“And by the look of you, I was right. So tell. Is the noble terrifying, or have they caught your eye?”
Her cheeks burned as she turned away. “I should get back to—”
“Nope. Stay and tell. That’s a royal command.”
She hoped her look conveyed where he could stuff his royalty and his commands.
He barked a laugh. “If this noble is terrifying, I can yank a few of their fearsome teeth. If you find them intriguing, ask the master of romance.” He opened his arms as if welcoming her in.
“Master of the one tumble and then a quick good-bye.”
“Hey! Some were interesting enough for two or three.”
She snorted a laugh. “No thanks.” And there went the spirits-cursed burning in her cheeks again.
His eyes widened. “Are you in love?”
“Shut up,” she mumbled as she tried to turn for the stairs again.
He raced around her and drew himself up to his full height of six feet, blocking her path. “Are you? You have to tell me, Than. I’d tell you.”
“I wouldn’t want to know.” When he dodged to stay in her path, quick and lithe, she sighed. “I don’t know this person well enough to be in love.”
“But you can’t get them out of your mind.”
“The garden explosion was the day before yesterday. Of course, they’ve been on my mind.” Sometimes naked, but she didn’t mention that part. Her cheeks had probably told the secret for her by now.
He leaned back, the wonder on his face softening to consideration, the grin becoming a smirk again. She put her hands on her hips and waited, but he only turned to the side, gesturing that the way to the stairs was clear.
Thana stepped that way, trying not to stomp or sulk or blush any harder.
“When you tell me their name,” he said behind her, “I want the whole story.”
She strode on, glad the darkness hid her face.
Chapter Five
Sylph awoke feeling bold, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She lay in bed and felt unworthy of the feeling even as she reveled in it. She hadn’t done anything the day before except make a bunch of courtiers make way for the queen’s pyradisté. She hadn’t ordered them to go jump in the river or chop their own heads off, nothing that would make them fear her more than any other noble. And Thana had probably forgotten the incident even as it occurred. No doubt she viewed herself as above her station because of the royal company she kept.
That thought wrinkled Sylph’s good feelings, and she sat up, staring at all her clothes and cosmetics and frippery. She took no joy in them today and focused on Thana. She didn’t want Thana to forget her actions with the courtiers—a desire she did her best to squelch—because it had brought them closer…a little. She also frowned a bit at the thought of Thana being of such low station.
But that was truth and required no feelings from her whatsoever.
With a sigh, she nearly threw a pillow across the room. Even her own mind was starting to sound like her father.
She rose and dressed herself, not waiting for her maid. She pulled her hair back in a simple tail and donned one of the ridiculous hats so in fashion. It would cover her lack of artistry nicely. When she emerged into the sitting room, her maid made a little squeal from where she was laying out some breakfast things.
“My lady, I didn’t know you were up!”
“You may go.” Sylph gave her an icy stare until she fled. Her stomach was churning, and the thought of the impending pyramid practice left her thoughts scattered. She did not have the energy to field inquiries or school her face from the maid’s searching glances. She sipped her tea and tried to make herself be calm. She’d endured many lessons in her lifetime. What was one more?
One more that could ruin her if anyone found out?
She set the cup down with a clatter that would have shocked her etiquette tutor and forced herself to breathe. She couldn’t think of the pyramids without being nervous, so she thought of the only other thing this morning included: Thana.
Yes, Thana couldn’t be her friend or anything, but that was only in reality. In her mind, Sylph could have anything, be anyone, befriend whom she liked, and love whomever she wished. She’d had many occasions to be grateful that her father couldn’t read her mind while he lectured her, couldn’t hear the many names she called him when he scorned or belittled.
She imagined that she and Thana were friends. She would be excited they were going to spend the morning together. They could talk about anything, not only the difficulties and triumphs in their lives but what they might do if let out into the world. They could go away together and have adventures. They could laugh. They could kiss. They could—
Sylph gasped as another thought occurred, a buried bit of trivia that fought through her imaginary nonsense. Because they had the power to read minds through pyramids, pyradistés never had to worry about someone reading their thoughts. The power shielded them somehow.
Having her mind read had never been a great worry, even with all her rebellious thoughts. Her father loathed pyradistés, but when she’d found out they had the power to read minds, she’d been fearful. Now, she had a certainty in her favor, an indisputable fact all her own. No one would ever know her thoughts.
The boldness returned.
She ate lightly. She would need sustenance for the tasks ahead, but she didn’t want to be sick if her nerves assailed her again. When she finished, she waited in the hall, not wanting her maid or her father to catch Thana visiting. She would no doubt be coming from the royal quarters, so there was only one hall she could take, and Sylph waited at that junction, her nerves jumping so that she wasn’t able to pretend to be admiring the art. She no doubt appeared to be waiting for someone and kept her death stare at the ready should anyone accost her.
When Thana turned the corner into the hall, Sylph blinked. With her dark hair and clothing, she looked like a shadow come to life, truly a raven who’d fluttered down the hall and become a woman. Such long, forceful strides. The sides of her cassock rustled like wings. Was it even within her power to stroll? Sylph imagined her hustling a lover down the street instead of meandering arm in arm. Maybe she always hastened to be behind closed doors, just like Sylph. Maybe she would be as energetic in lovemaking as she was in walking.
