Lady of Stone, page 6
The thought would give Sylph’s father apoplexy.
But he would never know it.
As Thana came closer, her dark eyes shone like obsidian. Sylph smiled, and Thana’s stride faltered as if someone had pulled her back. She blinked a few times before her stern expression softened, and she returned the smile. It rounded her pale cheeks and gave her a winsome air.
“I…you’re…” Thana cleared her throat, ducked her head, and when she met Sylph’s eyes again, she closed to within a few steps, and the smile dropped. But a sparkle remained. “Thank you for meeting me.”
“Of course. Thank you for taking the time.” When Thana continued to stare, Sylph’s confidence slipped. She searched her memory for any etiquette lessons on pyradistés but found her education lacking. Was there some sort of ceremony or initiation she was supposed to know about? The horror of being unprepared for any gathering rose within her.
Thana blinked again, and her cheeks reddened as she looked away. “Sorry, I was…um, I was thinking about…” She waved vaguely. “I have a place picked out for…what we’re about, but I was just…briefly reconsidering.” She breathed a nervous-sounding laugh and offered a smile of pure mortification. “This way.”
Sylph fell in beside her as Thana started back down the hall. It took everything in Sylph not to laugh at the realization that they were both nervous. Perhaps Thana was also overjoyed that no one could read her mind.
She led the way to a door between the section of the palace where the courtiers were housed and where the servants’ quarters began, a place Sylph had never visited. Inside was a room slightly bigger than her sitting room and bedroom combined. Musical instruments and chairs had been shifted into a corner and partly covered with white sheets. A large window let in plenty of sunlight, though it looked upon an expanse of stone, the part of the palace now under construction.
“A music room?” Sylph asked.
“Yes, soon to be incorporated into a bigger ballroom after the new construction.” She gestured beyond the window. “But for now, it’s got lots of light, and no one comes in here. Unless they knock the wall down while we’re standing here.”
Sylph smiled to show she appreciated the little joke. With Thana’s words, though, she couldn’t help thinking of the moving wall that had almost killed her. She shook the thought off. “How shall we proceed?”
Thana removed a black satchel that had hung crossways around her body and rested against her back. Sylph didn’t even notice it until she took it off. “Well, even though you’re only interested in suppression, you need to know about the various pyramids and how to use them. This will help you control your power.”
When she started removing pyramids and setting them on a cloth-covered table, Sylph’s heart began to pound. She’d pictured meditation or something of that sort, but this almost seemed like…weapon-craft. Still, she didn’t want to argue and had to take it for granted that Thana knew more about being a pyradisté than she did.
Even if she dearly didn’t want to be one.
Even after learning her mind couldn’t be read?
She shook the thought away.
Thana pointed at the table. “Pyramids come in three basic categories: destruction, mind magic, and utility.” She touched one pyramid that had steep angles and a sharp point. “This is a flash bomb. Like most destructive pyramids, these are made by pyradistés but can be used by anyone. They only have to be broken. Flash bombs create a loud bang and a flash bright enough to incapacitate those standing close to it when it breaks. There are other destruction pyramids: fire, disintegration, death, and explosive.”
Sylph fought a grimace. All of them sounded awful.
“I’ve made them all, but I don’t keep them on my person while in the palace. Disintegration is particularly nasty. It completely eradicates everything within its blast radius, taking the form of a black sphere, which, thankfully, is only the size of a single person.” She tilted her head back and forth. “Roughly.” By her lecturing tone, one would have thought she was talking about something as benign as the weather.
She glanced up, and something of Sylph’s distaste must have shown. “They can be helpful,” Thana said with a defensive look.
“Something called a death pyramid can be helpful? Or a sphere that disintegrates everything in a space that is roughly the size of a person?”
“I didn’t invent them or name them.”
Sylph held up a hand. “I don’t mean any offense. Please continue.”
Thana took a deep breath, but her finger seemed to stab toward the pyramids when she pointed again. “Destructive pyramids are hard to make.” She shook her head as if that thought caused her pain. “For many people.” Maybe she wasn’t very good at crafting them.
Sylph gave her an encouraging smile. Not being able to make something with “death” in its name was a point in her favor as far as Sylph was concerned.
Thana returned the look briefly. “Some pyramids are a mix of types. Those that guard the royal quarters and the one you encountered in the garden are trap pyramids, a mix of destruction and mind magic, sensing murderous intent and then exploding.”
Sylph pulled back, her mind reeling. “I never had any murderous intent.”
“No, no,” Thana said, holding up her hands as if pacifying a shying horse. “I didn’t think you did. No, something definitely went wrong there.”
Sylph forced herself to breathe. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” She didn’t know what to say, couldn’t begin to describe her feelings. She also wasn’t used to apologizing to anyone below her station. But Thana had already rescued her, seen her weeping and disheveled. She was owed a few apologies.
“It’s okay.” Thana touched another pyramid, her movements slow. “Um, this is a mind pyramid. It can hypnotize people, letting pyradistés sort through their memories. More complicated mind pyramids can control people.”
“But none can read…us, right?” Sylph asked, gesturing between them. The thought of them being an “us” in any way made the heat rise in her face.
“No, mind magic doesn’t work on pyradistés,” Thana said. “For utility, I’ve brought a light pyramid, which is used, um, in the dark.” She gave another nervous laugh. “If the name didn’t clue you in. There are also utility pyramids that detect other pyramids being used, including trap pyramids, and cancellation pyramids, which render other pyramids inert. All of them can only be used by pyradistés.” She held the light pyramid out. “Let’s start with this one.”
Sylph tried to keep from staring as if the thing was a rat, but Thana’s flat look said she failed. And she couldn’t apologize for that. This was a part of life she should have never had to deal with. That wasn’t her fault.
Thana pressed her lips together and then released them with a little pop. “I know you don’t want to do this, but you have to learn what you’re trying to control in order to master it. And I need to see what you can do with a pyramid, so I can figure out what happened in the garden.”
Sylph had to force her hand not to tremble as she took the pyramid, telling herself the smooth sides were glass, not crystal. It was an ornament. It meant nothing.
“Stare into it, see the way it’s made, the way the five sides connect at the points. Look through it to the other side, at the way the light’s distorted.”
It drew the eye. She gave it that. Looking through it took the light and transformed it into an explosion of color, every hue she’d ever seen, many she hadn’t even known existed. Strange how something half the size of her fist could seem to contain the whole world.
“Call forth the light,” Thana whispered.
Simple enough. She was already inside the pyramid. All she had to do was step out and bring the light with her.
The pyramid blazed, a fountain of colors shining forth. Sylph cried out and tossed it into the air. Thana caught it and fumbled, coming to rest on one knee as she lost her balance and hugged the pyramid to her chest.
“What in the spirits’ names?” Thana said, gasping as if she’d run a mile and staring at Sylph with wide eyes.
“Did I…was that wrong?” Sylph’s heart was trying to beat forth from her chest, mostly from the pyramid but also from the fear in Thana’s eyes.
“How did you do that?” She looked to the pyramid as if it might hold the answers. “So bright, all those different colors.”
“They were all in there.”
Thana didn’t look at her. “All in where?”
Sylph took a deep breath. Nothing had exploded. All was well. “In the pyramid. Every color, every hue. Was that not what I was supposed to see?”
With a long sigh, Thana stood and put the pyramid back on the table. She leaned on it as if she needed it to stay standing. “I’ve read about people like you.”
Fear creeped up Sylph’s throat again. “People like—”
“Those so powerful, they can bring forth every bit of a pyramid’s potential.” She straightened, and the fear on her face morphed into hard lines and simmering anger. “You’re the most powerful pyradisté I’ve ever met, my lady.”
Fear tipped toward terror, clawing at Sylph’s brain. She cast around for a chair but only saw those spirits-cursed sheets. She could sit on the floor—how long had it been since she’d sat on a floor—that was where she’d be when her father discovered this, beneath everyone’s boots. How could she hide something that had built in her like some wasting disease until it came boiling out whenever she was near a pyramid?
“Are you crying?” Thana’s voice sounded strained, as if she barely held in a scream. “You just found out that you’re extremely powerful, and you’re—”
“Ruined,” Sylph managed to say. She would not weep, not when she had a choice. She’d wept in the garden, and that had been enough for the rest of her life.
“I don’t believe this. Don’t believe you.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Oh, of course, I don’t. I had to struggle with my ability, had to prove myself time and again, have to constantly contend with the fact that I might not be capable of doing my job as it needs doing. So, no, I can’t understand unlimited power thrown at my feet along with being rich and titled and beautiful.” She paced as if no longer talking to anyone but herself, waving her arms about and letting all her emotions loose upon her face. “No one should have that much spirits-cursed good luck in their life!”
She didn’t understand, and Sylph didn’t want to make her, not while she railed against her lot in life and bemoaned her fate. Meanwhile, Sylph was a hair’s breadth from losing the title and money and security and being left with a power she didn’t want. She drew on every one of her father’s tactics and drew herself up. “The difference is, you’re a peasant and I’m not, and these are a peasant’s powers.” She shrugged and made herself march to the table. “Perhaps if you spent less time bemoaning your fate and more time practicing, you could make something more of your life.”
She could feel Thana’s stare, could almost sense the anger. But if Sylph wanted to survive, to be a duchess one day, she had to keep moving forward. She had to be brave. She picked up the light pyramid when she wanted nothing more to do with the thing. “Now what?”
Thana’s face nearly glowed red, and her shoulders worked up and down as if barely containing her fury.
Sylph lifted an eyebrow, telling herself it was all right. No one could read her thoughts, could see how badly she wanted to apologize, see how much she wanted to explain and ask for understanding. But that wasn’t the path to a duchy. It led only to ruin. “Teach me how to suppress the power to control this pyramid, and perhaps some of my ability will transfer to you.”
Thana took a few more breaths before slowly moving forward, each strike of her boots a thump against the floor. “It doesn’t work that way, my lady.” Her voice was low and as rough as if she’d been eating gravel. “And your greater powers aren’t a gift of your title or your noble birth.” Her head tilted slowly. “If these are peasant powers, what does that say about your lineage?”
Anger brought Sylph’s teeth together. “Watch your mouth.”
“Or you’ll what? You might be able to flog your own peasants, but I’m a servant of the queen, at her service”—she leaned forward—“and under her protection.” She plucked the pyramid from Sylph’s grasp and stepped around her, placing it back on the table with an audible thump.
Sylph turned slowly. No one had ever just…disobeyed her before. Even her maid’s betrayal didn’t feel like this. There was anger, most definitely, and a vague sense of confusion about what to do next, but she also had a sudden desire to grab Thana’s heaving shoulders and kiss her to see where all these passionate feelings might go.
She was quite certain her father would not regard defiance in the same fashion.
Nor would he be diplomatic, but Sylph had to try that if bullying wouldn’t work. She cleared her throat. “Very well. I need you to teach me.”
Thana barked a laugh.
“And though I may not be able to have you flogged,” Sylph said loudly, “I can make your life in the palace as difficult as I made it easy yesterday.”
With another deep breath, Thana leaned back against the table, her expression going calculating. Sylph had made the courtiers give way, but she could also make them block Thana’s every move, make the nobles go from ignoring her to spurning her. And if that wasn’t enough, if Sylph’s father got involved, the queen might have to replace Thana as her pyradisté.
By the brief look of fear, then resignation, Thana didn’t need to be reminded of all that.
“I will try to be a better student,” Sylph said, hoping that greased the wheels.
Thana licked her lips and looked to her pyramids. “Well, I fear giving you anything stronger to practice with. Why don’t you tell me when you discovered your powers, what you felt with the light pyramid, and what you can remember from the garden, and I’ll think of a way for you to suppress it.”
Sylph nodded. That sounded reasonable, especially since she really didn’t want to touch a pyramid again.
* * *
Thana tried to set aside her irritation and listen as Sylph described a moment three months ago when she’d reached for a stone with her power. It sounded the same as what had happened in the garden, only not as powerful. To Thana’s frustration, Sylph didn’t remember much from the garden, only a feeling of lightheadedness and a desire to pull at something inside her that she didn’t recognize. It sounded like the rush a pyradisté felt when they fell into a pyramid.
Except Thana had never heard of someone being compelled to do so. At least pondering the problem gave her something to think about besides the desire to either punch Sylph or kiss her.
When their disagreement had started, the desire to punch had definitely been stronger. Heat rose in her cheeks again as she thought of all the garbage she’d spouted about her own struggles. Why in all the spirits’ names had she said all that? Not only was it none of Sylph’s business, but it could be construed as petty jealousy, and she was not jealous. Not much. Not to any degree that mattered.
And the last thing she needed was for Sylph to know that.
When they’d faced off at the end, Sylph’s eyes had gone frosty, but her chest had heaved, revealing her emotions as much as her face had hidden them. Her gaze had wandered to Thana’s lips and lingered, her eyes tightening as if she had to restrain herself.
Oh spirits, Thana had wanted her then. Desired her as much as she didn’t want to desire her. And Sylph’s eyes had said she wasn’t alone.
“Do I need to say it again?” Sylph asked, breaking Thana’s reverie and bringing even more heat into her face. She was going to set off the fire pyramid in a moment.
“No, sorry, I was just thinking.” And getting nowhere with either the pyramid thoughts or the lustful ones. She clenched a fist and told herself to focus.
“No need for apology,” Sylph said. “I’ll do whatever I can to avoid having a repeat of the garden incident.”
The garden incident. How could one person be so pretentious? “Thank you,” Thana said, hoping some of her scorn remained hidden.
Sylph brushed a strand of pale hair off her shoulder. “Not at all.”
Thana turned away and rolled her eyes, wishing they could go back to sniping if the alternative was this stilted, careful chatter. She shook her head and regarded her pyramids, feeling completely unqualified for her role once again. “I don’t understand what happened in that garden. To be frank, I don’t know what happened to you three months ago, either.” She turned back around. “If you hadn’t felt compelled to use your power, it would likely have gone undiscovered.”
Sylph drew in a sharp breath. She opened her mouth but seemed to think better about saying something. Thana felt grateful she didn’t have to remind Sylph that, yes, people were either born with pyradisté powers or they weren’t. But peasants were tested.
How many other pyradisté nobles might be out there, undiscovered? Thana had the urge to tear from the palace and start testing all the nobles to see how many had dirty little bloodlines.
“Well,” Sylph said, bringing Thana’s attention back. “So this compulsion is unique?” She clasped her hands behind her back, stretching her lightweight coat tight across her breasts.
Thana forced herself not to stare. “As is your stone power.”
Sylph shrugged. “If it’s unique, then you need not feel badly about not understanding it. No one can understand a thing which is unprecedented.” Before Thana could embarrass herself further by repeating her feelings of inadequacy, Sylph shook her head and took a step closer. “And I’m certain you would never have been named monarch’s pyradisté if your competency was ever in question.” Her eyes seemed kinder if still with a bit of frost.
And she was closer. If Thana took a step, she’d be close enough to kiss.
Enough! “You felt compelled,” Thana said. “The answer must lie there. Do you feel compelled to use any of these pyramids now?”
Sylph looked around Thana and shook her head. “I’d rather not touch them, to be honest.” Her eyes widened slightly, and Thana knew that anger must still be present on her face. “No offense intended, of course.”
