“Because no one ever notices servants.”
“Right. The more I can learn about these fellows’ intentions—what they say to each other, and what they think as individuals—the better chance I’ll have with them one by one.”
He went off to warm his sauce, watched anxiously by Faura.
This first quiet moment gave me a chance to breathe and to think about her and her family. Why hadn’t they run the way Geric and his followers had? Because this was their home. I could hear the answer in Hlanan’s voice.
There was that word home again. Yet another of the many things I did not understand, I thought uncomfortably before Fam pounded back in. “The tarts are all gone!”
A tall equerry appeared right behind him, glops of purple and green mush dripping off his ears, his face, and all down his battle tunic. “I was to tell you they’re still hungry, and not to serve anything that tastes like the scrapings off the bottom of a bait bucket.” He stamped out.
“Take the cakes out and I’ll come round with the sauce,” Hlanan said.
Frandi backed away, his fists under his chin. “No, no, I’m not going back, the way they’re howling.”
Faura pointed at Fam. “We’ll take ’em. They smell good, these nut cakes.”
Hlanan stood at one of the fires, a shallow pan set on a tripod thing over a fire as he stirred constantly, sniffing, tasting, then adding in pinches of cinnamon and other bits of spice. So that was how you did it!
I was going to comment when another of those magical tremors vibrated through me, as though a thousand invisible bees crawled up and down my bones.
I looked Hlanan’s way, but he stirred rapidly, testing his sauce with a tiny spoon. If he felt it, it clearly didn’t matter to him.
Fam and his mother had begun taking the cakes out of the oven. Frandi hopped about, fetching clean dishes to serve them on, and Deni watched Hlanan intently.
Since they were all busy I decided to investigate. Maybe I could learn something and surprise Hlanan!
I waited until Faura and her son rolled the cakes off to the dining hall, Hlanan following them with the sauce. Then I kicked off those horrible shoes and took off my apron and hat, as by then I was overheated enough to boil all on my own.
As soon as I stepped into the hallway, delightful cool air enveloped me. Breathing deeply, I walked aimlessly, unsure where I was going and what I was going to do when I got there. But I wanted to get away from the hot kitchen as much as I wanted to seek the source of that peculiar tickle of magic and then impress Hlanan with my discovery.
The lower hallways had been pretty well mucked up by muddy boots. Here and there furniture had been shoved aside or even overturned. Presently I found a marble stairway and paused, sniffing the air. I sensed magic above, so up I ran, then slowed when I found myself in another corridor. Most of the doors stood open. The sun had not quite set, the shadows revealing the angular shapes of furniture and lamps and cabinets tossed about as if impatient looters had been through, looking for small items to carry off.
I stopped in one room when a bigger-than-life painting caught my eye. I recognized Duchess Morith in that proud figure, probably painted when she was young. She wore a fancy rose and silver brocade gown with an underdress of pale green, and emeralds and diamonds, but it was difficult to make out more details than that as someone had used the painting for target practice. The canvas puckered all over with holes. I counted three right between her eyes.
I passed along.
The subtle buzz of magic drifted and faded, elusive as a scent on a mountain breeze. I wandered another floor into hallways decorated with statuary, the ceilings painted with stylized frames, stars, and birds. Carved doors stood open to rooms far more opulent, and surprisingly untouched, but then fine rugs and furnishings and tapestries were harder for light-fingered looters to bundle off. The heavy, stale air carried a whiff of familiar scent that instantly called Geric to mind. Of course. This had been his home.
I resisted the urge to hunt out his rooms in order to burgle them thoroughly, and pushed on until I reached the end. Here the hall debouched into a round stairwell leading up to the tower.
At the foot of the stairway something glittered. Gems! A jeweled armband, man sized, and on the step above, a couple of rings. I bent to pick them up, then stopped halfway in my stoop, my gaze landing on an exquisite gold necklet that lay on a step farther up. Clearly some thief had dropped some loot on the way out.
I passed by the rings and the armband, drawn to the necklace of beautifully worked gold. It had been delicately etched to resemble the overlapping scales of a lizard or snake, in intricate pattern. Gold could not be sinuous, of course, but the artist managed to convey that effect.
Gold and beauty, beauty and gold.
I’d never been able to pass either.
I took another step. Then stopped.
I’d told Hlanan I’d stop stealing. He had never condemned me—never said anything at all—but I sensed that it bothered him. And I still carried several of Geric’s jewels among my thief tools. Selling those in the right place would keep me comfortable for at least a season, maybe longer if I ended up alone again.
I didn’t want to be alone again. That meant trying to live up to ideals I was not accustomed to, but instinctively knew were right. My fingers stretched out, hovering above the golden necklet, then I sighed. I didn’t really need it, did I? And Hlanan would be so disappointed.
So I straightened up and it was then that I got that neck-hair lifting sense of being watched.
I backed to a wall and looked around. Sniffed. Listened. Until now I’d assumed the silence to be that neutrality peculiar to an empty series of rooms, but the notion that someone might be hiding somewhere filled the shadows with menace, and danger tensed my muscles.
I sidled along the wall to the corner, sniffing, listening, staring into every shadow.
Then a soft rustle, a step, a familiar scent—not the stale scent of empty rooms, but personal. Living.
“Geric.”
I wasn’t aware I’d spoken until he said, “Well met, thief.”
I started, glaring at the top of the stairs. That was Geric, all right, coming down at a leisurely pace. He wore dark clothing, blending into the shadows except for the pale waves of his long hair.
“You said you were going away,” I exclaimed stupidly.
“I lied.” His grin dared me to make anything of that.
“What I cannot determine,” he drawled as he continued down the steps, “is if you are running Hlanan Vosaga or if he is running you. Or you’re both being run by that despicable Ilyan Rajanas. At all events, His Royal Highness of Alezand is not here now.”
“Running?”
“Is that the best you can do, Lhind the Spy? Pretend ignorance? I’m disappointed.”
“Spy!” I exclaimed, and laughed. “Who would I spy for?”
“Whoever pays you most,” he retorted.
This conversation made less sense with every word. I decided to ask my question, for Hlanan’s sake, then I was done. “Was that you doing magic?” I asked, my heartbeat thundering. I poised to run.
“What do your Hrethan powers tell you?” he retorted, taking another step.
I backed away a step, keeping the same distance between us. I wasn’t sure how much threat he was given his recent wounds. At least I didn’t see any throwing knives in his hands.
“Not much,” I said. “That’s what I came to find out.” I eyed him. “Did you do something to Tir?”
“Dropped it with a stone spell. Entirely too interfering.” He laughed, his manner changing. “And here I’ve been, trying to lift wards,” he said. “Do you know anything about that? If you do all these gems are yours.” He flicked his fingers toward the stuff lying on the steps. “Earn your reward for once. See how you like it.” He smiled.
I did not trust that smile. “I don’t know anything about wards.”
“You don’t seem to know much of use at all outside of
your shape change, and that’s useless here, is it not?”
“I know enough to defend myself,” I retorted. “I’ve got voce cast and mind thrust.”
His eyes widened, but then he laughed again. “Your threats are as convincing as your lies. Here, why don’t you make yourself useful. Pick these up for me and you can have half.” He touched his shoulder. “I have trouble bending.”
I could believe he had to be feeling those wounds still, though until now he had never made any reference to them. It felt odd—false, somehow, this strange shift from sarcasm to joviality, insult to affable. Confiding about the wounds. And who would give away precious gems to get them picked up?
“I don’t want any jewels,” I said loftily and backed away. It was time to let Hlanan know that Geric had returned. Maybe he could figure out this odd conversation.
“Come here,” Geric snapped.
“No!” I ran.
Clang-g-g!
The bell at the front gate began to ring wildly, startling us both. Another bell farther away began to echo the tuneless cacophony.
I stumbled a step then caught my balance, my tail wrenching inside those wretched trousers of Nill’s. I didn’t stop until I reached the stairway; Geric might have been able to run me down before he and Rajanas had fought, but he wasn’t fast now. I stopped at the landing, then jumped and kicked my way out of Nill’s clothes, my crushed and wrinkled drape fluttering free.
I hopped onto the bannister and slid down on both feet, leaped to the bottom, and ran. When I looked back again, Geric was gone.
I fled down those long halls, caught a bannister and swung myself around to shoot me down the last, mud-slick hallway, then skidded into the kitchen. The heat was smothering. I threw the folds of my drape back over my shoulders and shoved my sleeves all the way up as Faura took one look at me and the crockery she held dropped with a crash.
Fam’s voice cracked. “The c-c-court is filled with wuh, war-r-r-r, with Ravens!”
At first I thought he meant a swirl of black, cawing birds. Then I remembered the elite force of the empress.
Justeon was here! Only he hadn’t commanded Ravens, had he?
“Where’s Hluh—where’s the cook?” I asked.
“In the dining hall serving out the cakes,” Faura said, hands clasped tightly at her breast. “Ravens!” She uttered the word on a deep, outward breath. Then, “Children, to the cellar. We’d better hide and wait out whatever’s going to happen.”
Fam set aside the broom he’d picked up to sweep together the broken crockery, and walked away wordlessly.
Frandi moaned, “Aw, I want to see the Ravens!” His mother’s answer was to take hold of his shoulder and hustle him away.
With a last worried look at me, Deni followed her mother in one direction while I pounded in the other.
I reached the dining hall and bolted through the open doors. One of the drunks bawled, “That there’s a Hrethan! What’re they doing here?”
“She’s not blue,” another stated in a slurred voice. “I thought they were blue.”
“Grab her!” That was Geric, one hand clutching his shoulder as he stepped through a discreet door that opened directly onto the dais. As all the feasters swiveled to look at me, he shouted, “Take them both.” He pointed at Hlanan.
Two big equerries (one with bits of purple rice still stuck to his outfit) leaped to take Hlanan’s arms. I froze. What should I do? What should I do? My hand plunged under my tunic for my thief tools, but once again none of them were the least use here, even my liref. If I used the entire bag to put them all to sleep I wouldn’t get out before breathing it too.
And that’s when the big doors at the foot of the long table burst open, and the Ravens moved in with smooth efficiency.
I didn’t hesitate. The Ravens were a whole lot safer than Dhes-Andis! I bolted for them and didn’t stop until at least a dozen of them stood between me and the dais.
The Ravens halted, swords out, the back row behind me with arrows knocked. On the dais the commanders, drunk or not, had scrambled for their own weapons.
I glared from Geric to those holding Hlanan. If anyone dared try to hurt him, I’d . . . I’d . . . I quailed at the idea of using mind thrust. Not only was it dangerous to the target, it was also dangerous to me, a power I’d only used once, and it had taken me days to recover.
Voice cast I could use only if I knew someone’s vocal harmonies, what I’d thought of as their range. Those holding Hlanan, no. Geric, yes, but to control someone for a few heartbeats was only useful if I gave a specific command. And it didn’t last past a breath.
Still, I could try! I steadied myself, but lost my focus when Justeon marched in, chainmail jingling. “Lay down your arms,” he ordered. “The castle is surrounded, and your camps are very shortly to be surrounded as well.”
He caught sight of Geric, who said, “I am Geric Lendan, Prince of the Golden Circle, and Duke of Thann. This is my duchy. You have no rights here.”
“Aranu Crown received a petition from the united guilds of Thann,” Justeon said. “Claiming that you had abandoned them, and begging the empire to protect them from invaders.”
“They are here by my leave,” Geric said, his voice tight with anger. He made a visible effort and assumed a more courtly tone. “If you will surrender that Hrethan spy and thief, we will return your empire spy to you, and I will consider us quits. Withdraw peaceably and there will be no further trouble.”
“No,” Hlanan said, wrenching at the hands holding him, but he was no match for two burly fellows. His cook hat fell off.
One of the commanders turned from one to the other and bawled, “The cook?” Another even more affronted back-and-forth stare. “The cook is the one sent a third of our force running for home! He’s the one busy driving a wedge between the rest of our command.”
The drunks glared at Hlanan, a couple fingering their swords. “The cook was the one?”
“I’ll dispatch him myself!”
“He’s a spy for the empire,” Geric said.
“Release him,” Justeon called over their bluster. “Prince Geric, permit me to repeat: this castle is surrounded. Those forces who crossed the river from Keprima are being flanked at this moment. I believe it is the empire that will dictate terms, and those terms are direct orders from Aranu Crown—”
“Perhaps,” Geric cut in, “this is the time to inform you that the forces you are so busily surrounding are only the decoy. There is a much larger force ready to be dispatched.”
Justeon said, “You can be certain that the Empress has issued orders to all secondary garrisons to be prepared for such an eventuality.”
Geric’s forehead gleamed; his head tipped. And though the light was uncertain as no one had lit the chandeliers overhead and the only illumination in the fast-vanishing day were the wildly streaming candles on the high table, I saw him pale.
“Before that,” he said slowly, “but before that, Aranu Crown should know that in its retreat from Idaron Pass south to Keprima and then east, this army has been under orders to lay down certain talismans in every village and town.”
I was about to shout LIAR! but Hlanan said in his reasonable voice, “How could you know that? You were with us until three days ago.”
Geric gave him a distracted glance, and I had it. A horrible sensation shivered through all my nerves as I thought, He’s hearing voices.
No, he’s hearing HIS voice.
And so I said to Geric, “You can run.”
I hated the fellow, and I knew he loathed me at least as much, but the pulse of urgency came out of a far greater fear and hate: the idea of Dhes-Andis in my mind.
Geric’s chin lifted as he gazed across the heads of both sides. “Too late,” he said in a low voice, almost a whisper, but it carried in that stone hall. “Years too late. Once he has you, you will never be free.”
Hlanan’s head snapped around, his lips parting, but Geric addressed Justeon. “If you want a demonstration I am to i
nform you that His Imperial Serenity Emperor Jardis Dhes-Andis would like nothing more than to comply. The talismans are harmless unless the enchantment keyed to them is released. At that time they will spread neverquench flames everywhere they are placed—attics, basements, barns, barracks, dormitories. Mines, lumberyards, crowded streets, palaces. Tell your imperial mistress that I stand ready to release that enchantment, and this: she ought to know by now that when His Imperial Serenity bestirs himself to make a promise he always carries it out. He has never yet made an empty threat.”
Halfway through this speech Justeon took a round hand mirror from his belt pouch. From the faint greenish glow scintillating from it, and the care with which he handled it, I knew the mirror carried magic.
Justeon murmured softly then laid the mirror gently on the floor and stepped back.
A starburst of magic spiraled up into millions of tiny specks of greenish light then coalesced into a luminous image of the Empress, Aranu Crown, dressed in robes of state.
She spoke, her image seeming to gaze straight at Geric. “I have been until this moment conversing with my allies east and north of Sveran Djur. An invasion of this continent shall bring a united action against you, Jardis Dhes-Andis. And you should know that I, too, never make empty threats. Is that what you truly desire?”
Geric’s head bent, then lifted. “His Imperial Serenity desires me to inform you that that game is yet to be played. At the moment, all he wishes is the return of his long-lost niece, the half-Hrethan you call Lhind. Apparently she holds importance to you, too?”
The Empress’s image stilled. Then she crossed her arms, and uttered a bark of a laugh. “Hah! That urchin is nothing but trouble,” the empress stated. “Even my fool of a scribe there, who demonstrates a lamentable tendency to adopt ill-conditioned pets, admits that she is a liar and a thief with no morals or manners. He is already in trouble for exceeding his orders. Keep him if you like.”