Category: watercolors

There was nowhere in the room to easily stash a man—perhaps by design—but we were professionals. Quill managed to shimmy under the bed and I rumpled the bedclothes so they spilled over the side and hid him. Karolya gave the rumpled bed only a glance before going to the wardrobe and pulling out the gown that was dark and luminous as a good red wine.

“Just one more night after this and then she’ll be married,” said Karolya with a sigh. “Of course, then we’ll have another week of celebrations, but the deed will be done and it will just be parties. No point in killing anyone anymore. Everyone will be more relaxed.”

I looked at Karolya sideways. Another week of this after the wedding? I wasn’t sure I could take that. I shot a glare at the bed.

Karolya spread the dress on the bed, then turned to face me. “Let’s get you dressed first, then I’ll deal with your hair.”

Ignoring the man under the bed, I stripped off the plain clothes down to my second skin and pulled the under gown over my damp head. Karolya helped me slip into the red over gown and laced up the back. It was light and exquisitely tailored. Embroidery swept down the bodice into the deceptively slim skirts that swirled like the froth of waves when I moved. Long silk sleeves and a neckline that swept straight from one shoulder to the other…it was a delicious dress. I wrinkled my nose. “This one isn’t worn with a jacket, is it?”

Karolya shook her head. “No, it’s just like this.”

“That makes hiding knives harder,” I sighed. “But not impossible.”

Karolya made an effort not to gape at me. “Yes…I…Imagine it would.” She gestured to the desk. “Sit, I’ll fix your hair.”

*

When Karolya left, my face was painted white as egg shells, my eyes bright with kohl, and lips the color of blood. The headdress that completely covered my hair—pinned into tight submission—was beaded and had little dangling glass baubles that clacked in an extremely annoying way. I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror.

I hiked up the frothy skirts and buckled the thinnest knife belt I owned around my waist and then secured the thigh sheaths from it. The line of the belt was barely obscured under the texture of the dress and my knives wouldn’t be easily accessible. Shiharr and Azzad would have to sit the night out, entirely. This didn’t please me, but was why I owned lots of knives.

I was putting on silk slippers that matched the gown when I remembered that Quill was still under the bed. “Quill?” I turned to the shambled bedding. “Karolya is gone, you can come out.”

There was no answer.

Bending down, I pushed aside the blankets and peered into the darkness under the bed. The glass beads slid in a waterfall of sound and Quill jerked, banging his head against the slats of the bed.

“Were you asleep?” I asked, amused. I could just make out the glittering narrow look he shot me, one hand caressing his head.

“I haven’t had much chance lately,” he rasped, scooting toward me.

I moved back, allowing him the space to escape the confines of his hiding spot. He stood slowly, stiff from the floor. I evaluated him as he dusted himself off and shook out his coat which he’d been using as a pillow. The shadows were deeper under his eyes, now that I looked. “Are you spending all night combing the underworld with Ayglos after spending all day in court?”

He gave me an odd look, “Ayglos doesn’t need my help working the underworld. Especially not with Jemin there to help him. That man is a changeling.”

I nodded agreement, beads rattling. “True enough. So, what’s your excuse then? You’re not sleeping in a marked person’s bed, too?”

His expression grew stranger and I realized belatedly all the possible meanings of my phrasing. I blushed.

“Too?” he asked, his voice hard.

I didn’t answer. I guess I hadn’t told him I was taking the Countess’s place on her pillow.

Quill cursed under his breath. “Eloi, Zare, I will definitely not sleep now.”

“Were you sleeping before?” I asked, something like foreboding stirring inside.

“I…” he turned away from me, rubbing his hand over his face.

I straightened the blankets on the bed just to have something to do.

“When I realized how helpful it would be to have you among the leanyodi I did not think through what it might mean having you among the leanyodi.”

“What do you mean? That I’m the only one of your associates committed enough to trade places with a woman entirely unequipped to deal with someone trying to kill her? I hardly think that’s true. Both Eliah and Athrynel would, and I’m sure you’ve met other female mercenaries who’d help a woman who needed it.”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Since we left Wuhnravinwel I’ve been having dreams. Nightmares. They are different each night, sometimes the knife comes from behind, sometimes above. Sometimes from the side. Always a knife. Always…at someone who turns out to be you.”

I felt a little ill. “Is that why you almost killed me when I woke you the night the Countess was kidnapped?”

“I almost caught the attacker,” he said.

Dreams. “In my dreams I can’t reach my knife,” I forced the words out, even though I had a weird desire to hide them from Quill. He didn’t need to be haunted by my possibly completely nymphish nightmares. “And…I feel betrayed…but it’s always by a gigantic Narya Magnifique,” I added, shrugging as if he could see me, “I sleep lightly.”

He turned back to me, looking troubled. “I don’t dream often. Not like this.”

“My dreams could mean anything or nothing.” I shrugged again. “I’m armed, I’m already paranoid, and Fornern knows I’m also reasonably good with my bare hands. You know that, too, Quill.”

His lips twitched. I scowled at him.

“Well,” he flipped his coat over his shoulder, “I probably won’t sleep again till this is over. But I also need to get ready for tonight’s festivities.”

“And I told Karolya I would be right behind her.”

Quill nodded and moved toward the door, he stopped before opening it, lifting his hand to brush his fingers against the spot where my face had been bruised. He stopped short of his mark and withdrew his hand regretfully. I remembered that my face was entirely painted white. I wanted to tell him to be careful, and to not worry about me. And, I needed to talk to him about—”Quill.”

He paused, hand on the door, looking back.

“Hadella is the Countess’s sister.”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“The leanyodi I told you about—who hates the treaty and is very involved in the wedding—Hadella. She’s the Countess’s sister.”

He stared at me, “No one told me there were two Wuhn.”

“I know.”

“Are there more?”

“I don’t know.”

His chin dipped, brows furrowed, “And who inherits?”

“Exactly.”

*

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I was halfway to the palace library with its genealogies when Karolya found me. “There you are, Zephra!” she exclaimed, “I’m to take you to the Countess, she’s been asking for you”

Swallowing my chagrin, I said, “Lead on,” and followed her down the hallway at pace brisk enough to make our long coats billow.

When we arrived at the Countess’s chambers the Countess was in the sitting room. A handful of leanyodi were bustling around the chambers carefully not looking at or speaking to the Countess who sat like a statue in the center of the room. She looked like an entirely different person than the woman I’d held hours ago. Her make up had been redone in its formal, stark, glory, and she was arrayed in a blue so dark it was nearly black. The diamond brooch caught the light and shot it out again every bit as piercing as an arrow. I knew armor when I saw it.

Karolya announced, “I found her, Grofnu.”

“Good,” replied the Countess. I felt like a lost hound finally returned to the huntsman. She cast a critical eye over my plain clothes, “That will have to do, I suppose.” A muddy lost hound. “Come with me,” she stood. “The King wants to see us.”

*

King Keleman of Angareth joined us in a small audience chamber half a palace away. There were no windows, just tapestries and two chairs, one of which received King Keleman and the other remained empty as his retinue arranged themselves behind him. There weren’t as many people in it as I’d expected, two advisors and two bodyguards, but that was all. The Countess had entered the room with only me and Brell, leaving the other three leanyodi who’d come standing outside the chamber with the guards. The King’s face was painted gold again, probably in preparation for dinner. He looked like a statue. I thought it was unsettling.

After bows were made, the King and the Countess regarded each other for a moment, then the King gestured, “Bring her a chair.”

One of his advisors scurried off and returned with an ornate wooden chair, which he placed adjacent to the king, then stood back when the Countess stepped forward to sit in it. “Thank you, my uncle.”

“Adelheid,” said the King, startling me with her given name, “Are you all right?”

“I’m well,” replied the Countess.

The King looked skeptical.

I had already been inclined toward the Angari king, and now I liked him in earnest.

“I’m well enough,” revised the Countess. “I worry for Galo.”

“But not yourself?” asked the King, “I have asked much of you. More than I realized–”

The Countess cut him off, “It is my honor, Kiraly, I am not afraid.”

King Keleman hesitated a moment, then reached forward and took the Countess’s hand, “Adelheid, I love you like my own daughter.” He stopped, his eyes on their hands. I could see in his face that he had been frightened today, too. As much a devoted uncle as a king. “We could find a different way.”

“Uncle,” the Countess’s voice was soft, but steady, “Nothing will end a blood feud but a mingling of blood. It is my honor. I am not afraid. And I will not make Galo’s blood worthless by turning back now.”

The King nodded. He’d expected her answer as much as he’d needed to hear it. “I have spoken to Quilleran and High Lord Istvan’s men about the events on the river. It seems you were not entirely honest with me when you arrived.”

“Kiraly?”

“You did not mention the rebellion of the Wuhn on your journey here. Nor the actions of young Lord Adorjan Bulgar.”

“I handled the insurrection and Lord Bulgar,” replied the Countess.

“Your own people,” he waved a hand, his voice growing hard, “Fine. But Lord Bulgar is my subject, Adelheid, and he interfered with my treaty and my family and the future of my country.”

They starred at one another. An entire conversation in silence. Finally, the Countess tipped her chin, eyes flicking down, “My apologies, Kiraly, I should have told you. Adorjan Bulgar is a bastard and an idiot, but he had nothing to do with the events today.”

“I’m well aware of the nature of Adorjan Bulgar,” replied the King. “I wanted to talk your leanyod,” his eyes slid over to me, “to get her part of today.”

The Countess looked at me, “Of course. Zephra.”

With both of them staring, I wasn’t sure which face to wear. But the mercenary, the professional, won. I summarized the attack the same way I had for Druskin and the Countess.

The King nodded gravely when I finished. “How did the elves seem when they interacted with Ilya Terr’s captain?”

“They appeared to hate him, Kiraly, they spat in his face.” Ah, he was checking for himself if these were rogue elves.

The King nodded again. “Thank you, Zephra. You may go.”

I glanced at the Countess as I bowed and left the room. She didn’t give me any indication what she wanted, so I stepped into the hallway and joined the three other leanyodi sitting on a bench a short distance away. They looked at me inquiringly but continued their conversation about the expected performers tonight. I didn’t have anything to offer to the conversation, just a raw edge of weariness and the burning desire to go do research. Eventually, the Countess and Brell stepped out of the audience room. We all rose and fell into formation behind the Countess as she led the way back to her rooms. At the doors, the Countess stopped and addressed the guards, “Have you seen Druskin?”

“No, Grofnu.”

She turned to Brell, “Please find Druskin.”

The leanyodi bowed and hurried off. I hoped she knew to check the infirmary.

“Zephra,” the Countess turned to me, “We are wearing wine red tonight. I had Karolya put a gown in your room.” Her eyes flitted over me, and one corner of her mouth kicked up a little bit, “I’ll send her to help with your hair. Hurry.”

“Grofnu,” I resisted the urge touch my hair, bowing before heading to my room. I nearly walked past to go back to the library but caught myself at the last moment. It would have to wait. I was wearing brown, my makeup hadn’t survived the river, and my hair was in a simple braid after its dunking. I closed the door behind me and nearly knifed Quill where he stood behind the door. He stepped back, hands poised to block, eyes bright.

I slipped the knife back into its sheath, willing the lightning out of my veins. I felt like the lightning shifted form rather than going away. “I was looking for you earlier,” my tone came out dry, “How’d you get in here without the guards seeing?” I shucked the light coat and tossed it at him harder than necessary as I walked deeper into the room.

He caught the coat. “Who says the guards didn’t see?”

“And they just let you?”

“Royal guards let people do a lot of things and don’t say a word.” He followed me a couple steps. “There are few secrets unknown to them, I think. Besides. A couple of them were on the road with us.”

Ah yes. With all the talk. I snorted and shrugged out of my harness of knives, leaving it on the desk. I needed to talk to Quill. I needed to get ready. I looked at him appraisingly, wondering what message letting him stay would send. “I have to wash my hair. The Juni is apparently not an acceptable dinner scent.”

His lips quirked. “Unimaginable.”

“I know.” I spread my hands, moving toward the washroom and hoping I looked casual. “But stay. Since you’ve gone through the trouble of alerting the guards to our secrets. I need to talk to you.”

He smiled in earnest, coming to lean on the doorframe of the washroom while I turned on the water and piled towels on the floor by the tub. “I heard you were looking for me earlier?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you.” I knelt on the padding, looping another towel around my neck to keep it dry and unstriped. Nonchalant. “Do you know who inherits the Countess’s title and lands if she died.”

Quill’s brows furrowed. “Is it the prince? Her cousin?”

“Doubtful.” I tested the water, unbraiding my hair and bending awkwardly to run the water over my scalp.

“Why not ask one of the leanyodi you’re around all day?” Quill raised his voice to be heard over the water.

“No good,” I grunted as the towel slipped and I grabbed it before it could fall in the tub.

“Here,” Quill knelt next to me, the heat from his body roaring into me. “Hold the towel, I’ll deal with the water and keep you dry.”

I stilled, bent awkwardly and completely unable to move as Quill’s hands stroked over my hair, working the water in. No one had washed my hair since Galhara. He lathered the little bar of soap and began to work the suds through my hair. Eloi. Quill’s hands were in my hair. They felt large, and warm, and luxurious. He was so gentle I didn’t have the heart to tell him that wasn’t the right soap. I caught glimpses of his arms, sleeves rolled up and showing his yellowing bruises and the bandage from his knife wound. The bandage was splashed wet. Water, right. I covered my face with one end of the towel to keep my skin as dry as possible. He guided my head under the water again and rinsed the lather out. Before he could move away, I pointed at the bottle of proper hair tonic, and he willingly took it and began to work it into my hair. Quill began to rinse my hair again and I closed my eyes, reveling in the feel of his fingers on my scalp and running through my hair. It was intoxicating. The more so because it didn’t take that long to rinse hair. He lingered, combing his hand through the curls and letting the water sluice through his fingers. Each touch ached. When he reached across me to turn off the water, I realized that I wasn’t breathing, probably hadn’t been since his hands had touched my hair. I made myself take a breath, not looking at him as I shifted the towel from my neck to my hair. “Thank you,” I sounded breathless, nymph blood notwithstanding.

“You’re welcome.”

I looked at him from under my arm, drawn by the thickness of his voice.

He leaned his arms on the sides of the tub, letting water drip off his fingertips, and looked over his shoulder at me. His eyes were burning and unguarded. “Your hair is exquisite.”

“Your hands are exquisite.” The words came out before I could gauge their wisdom.

A surprised grin licked up his face and he stood, offering me his hand. “Next time you can wash my hair.”

I took the help up, my other hand propping the towel. Next time. I looked at him, trying to come up with something to say, having a hard time caring about wisdom and wondering why in Serrifis he didn’t seem to care about wisdom either. The knock at the chamber door made us both jump. My eyes went wide. Karolya was here to help me get ready.

*

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I left the Countess asleep in her bed and two armed female guards from the Queen’s retinue camped on the floor. King Keleman had sent them, and I wondered that he hadn’t thought of that before. The air of shock that lingered in the chambers made me uncomfortably aware that my own acceptance of dangerous reality was, perhaps, abnormal. I hadn’t seen Druskin since we’d gotten back from the luncheon, but I didn’t see any reason to wait for him. Especially since he probably wouldn’t want me to leave. Hopefully he was at Galo’s side. I wanted to think and I needed to get away from this clamor of souls to do so. With my nearly cleaned harness hidden under a long brown linen coat I set out to find where Quill and Eliah were housed. I scandalized two servants, but eventually found my way to a narrow but ornate hallway and knocked on the fourth door, as I’d been told. There was no answer, so I tried the handle. It was unlocked, so I stepped inside. The room was beautifully appointed, larger and finer than mine. Quill wasn’t important enough to have a large suite with separate sitting and gaming rooms, but there was a door to one side open to a tiled washroom. Quietly, I checked the corners, the washroom, and the little wardrobe. Several fine shirts and coats hung inside, but I didn’t see his leathers or road clothes, or the armor I was certain he carried with him.

I left the room and tried the door across the hall. No answer there either, and Eliah kept her door locked. They were probably dealing with the elven prisoners and the kings. I hesitated, eyeing the gold cast to the afternoon sunlight, then made my decision.

It didn’t take me too long to find my way out of the Palace of Domes, and I made sure to speak with the guard captain on duty so I could get back in later. The streets of Gar Morwen were crowded and had a nearly carnival air. This wedding was full of drama and portent, I was certain Angari had converged on their capital from all over the country to be a part. There were street venders selling food, flowers, and little pottery plates carved with a falcon roosting in a tree—a clever combination of the Angari and Terrim symbols.

I eventually approached a vender and asked where I could find the Lute and Bowl, and ten minutes later I found the tavern. It was nicer on the outside than I expected, stone with a painted sign showing a lute and a bowl crossed over a shield like the innkeeper’s choice of weapons. Inside it was dim, smelled of beer and smoke and something roasting, and it was already bustling with people.

There was a chance Ayglos was busy still, and that he wasn’t back in the tavern yet, but I slipped through the crowd around the edges of the main room and searched the alcoves for him. Snatches of conversation told me that basically everyone was speculating about what happened on the royal barge today and telling stories about the happenings at the palace the rest of the week. I found Ayglos at the very back corner, his back to the wall. He had a pipe in his hand and was watching me with a twinkle in his eye. I was surprised all over again that his hair was dark, even though he’d darkened it on the way to Angareth and we’d spent weeks together after.

I slid onto the bench hugging the opposite wall. “How long did you watch me search for you?” I asked, hiding how glad I was to see him—and see him with the capacity to twinkle.

“Since you walked in,” he answered.

I sighed. “You could’ve come to me.”

“Have you seen how busy it is in here? I might’ve lost my table.”

“It is a good table,” I conceded. I let myself lean back against the wall and close my eyes. I was so tired.

“Are you alright?” Ayglos asked, his voice quiet. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I haven’t,” I confessed. “My dreams chase me awake.”

I felt Ayglos’s eyes on me, though I kept mine closed. “What kind of dreams?”

“Unpleasant.” I knew that wasn’t what he was asking, but I didn’t know the answer. Ayglos, too, carried some form of the human gift of sight. His sight was less in dreams and more in the present, which I always thought accounted for how confidently he moved through the world and never, ever, got caught. Being able to see the intent of souls and being able to use that knowledge, were, I knew, quite different skills. He had them both and had worked harder and longer to hone them than I had. After a moment’s silence, I said, “I dream of knives striking for my heart, and of Galhara falling into the sea.”

“Hm.” His grunt was displeased. As if I’d suggested something hideous for dinner.

I considered telling him that I was also taking the Countess’s place on her pillow, but instead said, “I don’t suppose you’ve had any premonitions?”

“Not like that. But I have a bad feeling about one of the local gangs, I steer clear of their parts of town.”

I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the fact that I was with my brother, and I could relax a little. “Thanks for spotting those elves.”

He grunted.

“Did you see where the arrow came from?” I asked.

I heard a long exhale, as if Ayglos was blowing smoke with the intent to fill the room, then he answered, “There are plenty of buildings along the shore he could’ve used—none so good as Tirien’s Bell Tower—but the assassin only needed a few moments sight of the barge. He had no reason to watch it as long as I did. I looked for someone running away after I saw the commotion on the barge but whoever it was knew better than to run. Once the barge docked I went to search the waterfront, but short of breaking into every building along that stretch…” he let his voice trail off.

Opening my eyes, I watched the crowd. “Have you heard from Quill yet?”

“Not since the excitement today, I expect he’ll be along soon. Jemin went with the elves and the soldiers and I haven’t seen him either.”

“I expect both kings will keep them for a while—did you see the elf who jumped in after Quill?”

Ayglos shook his head.

“Ilya’s second, Mihalek. He thought a Terrim rescuing an Angari would be a good thing.”

“Astute.”

“I thought so.”

After a pause Ayglos said, “I asked Jemin about Rakov and Rae’d being with the elves.”

I had almost forgotten about that, in the midst of everything else. “What did he say?”

“You know Jemin, he said it wasn’t his place to talk about them, but they were working toward the same goal. When I think of us as the agents of king’s, the secrecy makes sense. But as criminals—”

“Mercenaries,” I corrected.

Ayglos ignored my interjection, “—it makes me suspicious.”

I needed something to do with my hands, so I pulled out my gold pendant and ran my thumb over the ships sailing in an infinite circle. “Quill said that Trinh sent them specifically to make sure this treaty happens. That he heard about it because someone tried to hire him to kill the Countess.”

Ayglos looked at me sharply, then turned back to the room, “Well, that explains how quickly we found out about the Scythe. Jemin would have had a head start on finding the right broker if he knew it was one who worked with the Breaker.”

“He spoke to the broker but still couldn’t learn who was hiring?” I asked.

“Brokers usually try not to share that information,” replied Ayglos, dryly, “But when pressed he said that he’d been working with an intermediary.”

“Of course, that would be too easy.” I waved a hand, “What do you think about…” Trinh Kegan. This potentially pivotal treaty. Signs of life in the Golden Prince.

Ayglos knew what I meant, he pulled on the pipe again, breathing out a slow column of smoke like a dragon. “What’s there to think? This brief flash of interest doesn’t mean he’s suddenly decided to topple the Empire.”

“No. But maybe he’d help.”

“If our brother will take him back, you mean.” Our brother. The Exiled King of Galhara. Who had nearly punched Trinh the last time he’d seen him. Admittedly years ago, now.

“He would if he brought a nice enough gift.”

“If you think this alliance is the gift then involving you and I was stupid, not only would we know about it but we’re partially responsible.”

Now I smiled. “Well, that was Quill’s call…and he didn’t exactly ask permission.”

“Unsurprising.” Ayglos laughed a little, then he studied me. “Zare, don’t get your hopes up. Even if he does decide to start being helpful, that doesn’t mean he’ll tip the scale.”

“Every stone tips the scale.”

With a rueful incline of his head, my brother turned and slipped off the bench. “Want anything to eat?”

“Please.” I was hungry now that I thought about it. I hadn’t eaten much at the luncheon, and that had been hours ago. Ayglos returned moments later with two mugs and a basket of steaming rolls balanced on his forearm.

“Roast is coming,” he said, sliding back onto the bend and depositing the mugs and basket.

I grabbed a roll and started tearing it up to eat in smaller bites. We watched the crowd, mostly in silence, but occasionally sharing bits about the week since we’d parted. Ayglos was keeping both our horses in work, haunting this tavern and a few other less reputable spots after dark for news. He’d gambled away and won back an alarming amount of money in his quest for the latest gossip. I told him about the leanyodi and their quirks, and about bumping into Valredes—which earned me a scrutinizing look—and about Druskin and Galo. I finished with the realization that Hadella was the Countess’s sister.

“Which one is Hadella?”

“She’s functionally the steward of Wuhnravinwel, runs a lot of the day to day.”

“One of the leanyodi?”

I nodded, taking another bite of bread. “I knew the leanyodi were honored, but I never thought to find a sibling among them. Hadella calls the treaty an insult to the ancestors. More than that…when I saw her today…she was enraged.” I tore the roll again, turning the piece in my fingers. “She apparently yelled at the Countess in front of everyone when we got back to the palace, told her that Galo’s injury was her fault and it should have been the Countess.”

Ayglos and I looked at each other for a long moment. Then Ayglos asked, “Who inherits if the Countess dies?”

I needed to find out. “I need to head back to the palace,” I said with a sigh.

*

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“You don’t think they’re upset about me going overboard?” I whispered.

Quill’s expression was grim, “As upsetting as that was, I think this is something else.”

The sailors leapt to the docks the instant the barge was in range, pulling it in far too quickly. Everyone on board stumbled as the barge bumped the docks, but their gasps were muted. As if a shroud rested over the entire vessel swallowing all sound. My skin prickled as I felt again the sensation from my nightmare when my city appeared on the cliff, only to face destruction a second time. Something thick and horrible coiled inside me, bringing terror of what awaited on the boat.Quill’s hand settled into the small of my back. I leaned into it, still clutching his coat over my knives.

The instant the barge was secure, two of the king’s guards jumped off and began shouting for a carriage. There were more guards clustered on the barge, and I thought they were arranged a bit like pall bearers. Eloi, God Overall. They moved carefully, but urgently, as they disembarked. A large blue cloth between that was clearly carrying a body.

I ran to catch up to the guards—they didn’t stop for me, but I got a good look in the makeshift stretcher. Blood bloomed across a pale bodice. Her elegant dark hair was mussed, her skin pale. I fell back to stand beside Quill as they loaded her into a waiting carriage. “It’s Galo,” I said. My stomach was churning with relief and horror. Not the Countess. Not the Queen.

“Is she alive?” asked Quill.

Before I could answer one of the guards shouted, “The infirmary, quickly!”

Alive, then. However direly hurt.

The carriage leapt away with a clatter of hooves and roar of wheels on cobbles. More people were bustling off the barge. We moved to the side as the kings and queens of both countries were rushed into carriages. I noticed a couple soldiers mount horses and ride off at speed.

“There’s Druskin,” said Quill.

A knot of leanyodi and guards were coming toward us, and we moved quickly to join them. The Countess Adelheid Wuhn was in the center, grim faced. But alive and apparently unhurt.

“Zephra, Quilleran, I’m glad you’re alright.” Druskin was tight lipped, his face pale. “We have to get back to the Palace immediately.”

“Of course,” I squeezed Quill’s hand and stepped into the leanyodi. Our eyes met for a moment before the Countess’s retinue hurried away. The retinue bundled into two carriages, with myself, Hadella, and Brell in the carriage with the Countess. The carriage lurched into motion as soon as we were seated. I looked around. Everyone was pale, Hadella looked sick.

The Countess looked at me, “What happened?” her voice was measured, as if it took great effort to keep her tone even.

“There was a small craft of armed elves approaching the royal barge. I pretended to faint so I could prevent them from reaching the barge without alarming the nobles.” I smoothed my still-drying trousers. “The King’s guard should have them now. What happened after I left?”

“Quilleran went in after you, as did one of the elves, and the rest took comfort that the nymphs would find you—as the River Folk do,” said Brell. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“I’m fine—but what happened on the barge?”

“Just a short while ago I asked Galo to get me some fruit,” said the Countess, “When she reached to place the bowl in front of me—” her voice hitched, she cleared her throat and went on, “She collapsed with an arrow in her.”

“She’s still alive,” said Brell, reaching for the Countess’s hands, “They are rushing her to the palace physicians. They will save her. She’ll be alright.”

My eyes locked with the Countess’s. The arrow had been meant for her. It was dumb luck—or divine intervention—that she wasn’t the one on that cloth.

“What did the arrow look like? Does anyone still have it?” I asked.

“Druskin,” said the Countess. “It was in her back…he had to take it out so they could move her.”

I glanced at the covered carriage window, as if I could see Druskin riding outside. My heart panged for him. I was pretty sure he loved Galo. Hadella made a choking noise and I recoiled as she vomited on the carriage floor between us. I cursed inwardly and fought down my own bile. All the blood in the world was easier to cope with than this.

The Countess reached for Hadella, “It’s alright, it’ll be alright.”

Pressing myself against the far side of the carriage, I barely saw Hadella flinch violently at the Countess’s comforting touch.

*

When we finally arrived at the Palace of Domes, Druskin rushed us up to the Countess’s chambers. There were already guards there, and they looked as if they’d just finished going through the chambers searching for intruders. Druskin made us wait in the hall while he went through and checked the chambers himself. He came back out a moment later and nodded for everyone to enter. I hung back and, once the others had disappeared into the dressing chambers, we faced one another.

Druskin’s eyes swept over me, taking in the horribly rumpled clothes, the borrowed coat and missing shoes. “What happened?” asked Druskin, his voice quiet.

“Kimro Ruddybrook spotted armed elves, zealots by the look, approaching the royal barge looking like they were going to kidnap or kill, I was the closest, so I handled it.”

He sighed heavily, “They said you fainted. I wasn’t worried about you in the water.” He gave me a significant look, “But when Galo…I was afraid you’d been shot, too.”

I shook my head. “No. But it appears there were two attacks today.”

“Do you think them separate?”

“They were uncoordinated if they were connected.” I paused, then asked gently, “Do you have the arrow?”

“I sent it with Galo—in case the physicians needed it. In case of poison. Or…anything else…” a bit of emotion slipped into his voice.

“Can you go to her?” I asked.

“No, it wouldn’t be proper.”

I restrained the urge to say, “Damn propriety” and instead nodded sympathetically. Who was I to judge him for keeping his love a secret? “Quilleran should see the arrow as soon as possible. So, you should go get it to him or I will after I’ve changed.”

For a moment, Druskin hesitated. His eyes went to the ornate door behind which his Countess was being fussed over by her leanyodi. Except, his leanyod was not among them. He looked, for a moment, like a very young man who was very frightened. Then he collected himself and turned back to me, “Please, stay close to the Countess.”

“Of course. Though, you will have to either admit Quilleran to her chambers or cope with me leaving for a few hours later,” I said.

“I’ll let you know what I decide,” replied Druskin, turning to leave.

I stared after him. I hadn’t really thought he’d consider allowing Quill into the Countess’s chambers. Apparently, the afternoon’s events had changed things. I waited only a moment before heading to clean up in my own rooms. I hadn’t been dismissed, but I was the only one whose outfit was thoroughly ruined, and I wanted out of the damp clothes. I cleaned up with a wet towel—dried off thoroughly—and changed into fresh, plain, clothes. I collected my knives and harness and my small cleaning kit and rolled them in a cloak, along with a long tined comb for my hair, and returned to the Countess’s chambers. The guards moved aside to let me in, but before I could enter the door opened and Hadella blew out like a storm on the Great Sea. I sidestepped in time to only get clipped in the shoulder. Her expression was rigid and when her eyes met mine, they were burning with unrestrained rage. She continued down the hallway without saying a word. I looked at the guards, but their faces were very, very carefully blank. Well, then.

Once inside, the sitting room was packed with leanyodi. It looked like most of them, actually. Even the ones who had been off duty. A couple were pacing, and the ones who sat nearly vibrated with pent up feeling—even the air felt fretful. I turned for the Countess’s bedchamber. Karolya called after me, “We’re not to disturb her!” Ignoring her, I opened the door as softly as I could and slipped inside.

*

The Countess was sitting in the window, alone. She wasn’t in her lavender dress any longer, just a deep red dressing gown, but her hair was still piled on her head and jeweled pins still winked in the sunlight. She’d thrown everyone out before they finished undressing her.

I closed the door behind me, letting it make a soft thump.

The Countess turned her head slightly, then turned back to the window. “Zephra.”

I walked to the bench at the end of the bed, unrolled the cloak and began arranging my knives and cleaning supplies. “Hadella left in a rush,” I said.

“Did you not hear her yelling at me?”

I paused. “I did not. I was changing out of my soaked clothes.” Picking up the comb, I walked over and settled at the Countess’s feet in the window. She turned her face away. I started working my hair free from its intricacies. “Why was she yelling?”

“She blames me for Galo getting hurt,” said the Countess, “She said that if Galo dies, her blood is on my hands. She said it should have been me.”

I stopped, a braided loop half-undone and hanging loose. “Thank Eloi and all the gods it wasn’t you.”

The Countess let out a wet sniffle.

Reaching out, I touched her hands. She pulled away and wiped her face. “I’m alright.”

“My Lady, you don’t have to be brave to me,” I began working on my braids again. “You were nearly shot, you saw your leanyod shot, you’ve had a bit of a harrowing week that included kidnapping and more attempted murder. You’re getting married in a couple days—to someone you were probably raised to consider an enemy. And let’s not forget sleeping with your head at the wrong end of the bed.”

That earned a pained laugh. She turned to look at me finally, her cheeks were wet with tears and her eyes were already swollen from crying. “She’s right, Galo is dying because of me.”

“No, Galo is dying because someone doesn’t want this treaty to succeed. This isn’t on you.” One braid finished, I started picking at the other side of my head.

“She was mine to protect,” managed the Countess, tears still freely flowing down her face.

“And you were hers. Don’t think for a moment Galo wouldn’t have thrown herself in front of that arrow on purpose given the chance.”

A sob escaped the Countess, and I stopped with my hair. Standing, I moved so I could edge my hip onto the ledge beside her and pull her into my arms. She shuddered, but then clung to me and began to sob into my shoulder. They were violent, wracking, sobs. I held her and stroked her back until eventually the tears stopped and she stopped shaking. She sat up and wiped her face and nose with the silk sleeves of her dressing gown. I didn’t know where to find her handkerchiefs, so I just moved to the other side of the sill and sat down across from her again.

She drew a shaky breath, “I am doing this for my country and my people. I know this is the right thing to do—ending the bloodshed, turning and enemy into an ally. Yet I feel like I’m betraying them because I like my betrothed. And now, Galo…” she choked off, and a few more tears escaped. “My sister never yells. I had no idea how strongly she felt.”

I blinked. “Your…sister?”

“Hadella.”

“Hadella’s your sister?”

The Countess nodded, dabbing her cheeks with a different section of her sleeves. “Yes, she’s always been my right hand. She argued against the treaty when it was first discussed, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised she’s angry that Galo got hurt.”

“She’s a leanyod?” I asked.

“Would you expect a lesser position for my sister?” replied the Countess, looking amused.

There was a tentative knock at the bedroom door. The Countess stilled, then lifted her head and said, “Come.”

The door opened and Brell stepped in cautiously. “Grofnu, I’m sorry, but this was delivered for you.” She lifted a little wooden box in one hand. “By one of the elves.”

“Thank you, Brell,” The Countess extended her hand and Brell came forward to place the box in her grip.

Brell looked at the Countess, then looked at me, and then backed several steps away. The Countess didn’t dismiss her, and there was no way she was volunteering to leave without seeing what was in the box.

The Countess ran her fingers over the smoothed wood, then opened the lid. There was a note inside, which she read, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. Beneath the note was an enormous brooch of silver metal shaped like a tree whose leaves were diamonds. The Countess held it up, laughing ruefully as it caught the afternoon sun and sparkled blindingly. “It’s from Ilya. He says his sister told him armor at a ball was unfashionable, so he founded the largest, hardest stones he could on short notice.” Her voice lowered, “He suggests wearing it over my heart, if possible.”

I smiled, wondering if he’d had other things to say about her heart in that note, “I’ve heard worse ideas. I wouldn’t want to rely on it, but it certainly won’t hurt.”

*

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Five nymphs surfaced, swimming for the boat and elves, and another surfaced alongside me. A female with blue-green swirls gracing her face, her hair dark and short, slicked back by water. “Alright now, friend,” she said, cheerfully, reaching out to grab the elf’s other arm. “We’ve got you.”

Eloi, I was not used to this much company in the water. Had they seen me drag all those elves into the river? Had everyone on the royal barge seen? I hadn’t bothered about any audience once I was overboard. “That pier,” I said, trying to match her bright tone and jerking my head toward the one where Rabanki and Jemin waited.

The pier loomed up quickly, two nymphs and a helpful river were more than a match for an elf who—if he could swim—wasn’t swimming. The others weren’t far behind. Jemin was crouched on the edge, and as soon as we were in reach, he caught the elf’s cuirass and hauled him up.

“Keep hold of him,” I said, pulling myself onto the boards. “So we’ll have at least one.”

Jemin grunted, already looping rope around the elf’s wrists. “You’ve got Quill in the water. And another”

I swiveled back to the river.

The nymph pulled herself up next to me, “Why are you binding him?”

I glanced at her. “The King wants them for questioning.”

“What happened?” she asked, “We saw the boat in trouble, somehow, on our placid Juni.”

“Yes, thanks for the help, I was a little short-handed.” I removed the elf’s sword belt and did a quick search which revealed three more knives.

She gave me a sideways look, then turned to include Jemin, “You’re not in the King’s livery.”

“I’m Zephra Ruddybrook, leanyodi of Countess Adelheid Wuhn,” I said, “We are about business for the crown.”

She looked me over, taking in the embroidery that emanated from every hem of my very fine—if soaking wet—clothes, the complex hairstyle, and…my bare feet. My slippers had not survived my plunge into the water. “I’ve never seen a leanyodi wet before. I suppose it’s possible you are who you say.”

My lips twisted into a smirk, and I turned to help haul the other elves out of the water. The elves started to struggle and heap curses on us when they noticed what was waiting for them, but with the help of the nymphs and the river we kept them contained until Jemin could bind and disarm them. The elf on the boat was the most difficult to subdue, as he leapt off and ran down the pier as soon as the boat arrived. I gained a few scratches in the scuffle after I tackled him to the boards, but that was all. The nymphs said little after hearing our explanation, but they stayed close and watched us. Three males and two females dressed in the close fitting and minimal clothes of nymphs working on water. Their skin was a touch darker than mine, and their stripes greener.

I was standing over my captives when Quill pulled himself onto the dock and to his feet, his chest heaving from the swim. Behind him, a dark-skinned, broad shouldered, elf pulled himself up and I recognized Mihalak, Ilya Terr’s second. They were barefoot, and quickly stripped their soaked and clinging coats, flinging them to the boards with prejudice. They both surveyed the scene on the pier, and Mihalak’s eyes flickered with surprise. At the elves. At me.

“What do we have?” Quill asked.

I stepped close to them, lowering my voice, “Rabanki revealed them getting into position to assault the barge. I handled it.”

Mihalak cursed under his breath.

I glanced at the four bound elves; they were glaring at Mihalak. “What did the barge see?” I asked.

Quill looked me over, then finding no wounds, relaxed a touch. “I’m not sure. I heard shouting about someone overboard, then Rabanki found me. No one was talking about a boat when I jumped overboard. They were all looking at the water.”

“I followed him,” Mihalak managed a strained smile, “It seemed important for a Terrim elf to help rescue an Angari maiden. Though it appears I misread the situation.” He gestured at me—striped blue, wearing knives.

I inclined my head. “As I hoped. I pretended to faint. I think we should keep this quiet if we can. We can meet the royal barge at the docks downriver—dry and bedraggled—and let them think you rescued me.”

Quill nodded. “We can certainly try and see what the reaction is.”

“I’m more concerned about the attack than folk learning my real purpose,” I said. “Though one secret certainly unravels the other.”

“My ideal is preserving both secrets,” replied Quill. “You should have every advantage as long as possible.”

Mihalak gave us an odd look. Then, turning, he walked to the elves and crouched in front of one of them. For a long moment they stared at each other. Mihalak was chillingingly impassive as he asked “Who do you serve?” in Terrim. He was met with thin lipped silence. He tipped his head, “You look like one of Oak’s. What were you here to do?”

The elf met his gaze, eyes blazing, “To do what our High Lord would not—protect the Springs of Tirien.”

“Who sent you?” prodded Mihalak.

The elf spat, “That doesn’t matter, heathen-loving scum. You will burn in hell for what you’ve done.”

“Eloi will be the judge of that.” Coldly, Mihalak wiped the spittle from his face and stood, returning to Quill and me. “My High Lord and my Lord have a right to these prisoners.”

“Then tell them. I have no wish to hide them from your Lord, only the crowd,” I said. “The last thing we need is for the nobles to get up in arms.”

Mihalek nodded.

Quill raised his voice. “Jemin, where is Kimro?”

“Aloft still,” replied Jemin. “Keeping eyes on the river.”

“Good. We need to find some of the King’s guard to collect these, and quietly.”

“You need someone to run to the guard?” asked one of the nymph males, stepping forward. “I can go.”

“Please do,” said Quill, “Tell them Quilleran has four prisoners he has detained as part of his investigation for the King.”

The nymph nodded and trotted up the pier toward the city. Mihalak eyed Quill shrewdly. “Do you think that this is tied to the threat on the Countess’s life?”

Of course, basically everyone know why Quill was here.

“It certainly appears to have been an attempt on her life, whether it’s connected to the threat inside her own court, I do not yet know.” Quill turned back to study the elves. “There is certainly enough hate here that it need not be.” I thought of Adorjan, and the scarecrow, and the men who’d attacked us on the road. This treaty was only the beginning of the fight for peace.

*

We left our captives with Jemin and the nymphs, and took the elves’ boat further downriver, keeping as far from the royal barge as we could when we passed it. I asked the Juni to speed us along, and Quill and Mihalak used poles to help. We spread their coats out to dry, and I stripped down another layer and tried to sun both myself and my clothes to dry out. Mihalak watched with keen-eyed interest. “They don’t know you’re a nymph?” he asked at last.

“They do not,” I said, “And your rescue will look more gallant if that remains the case.”

Mihalak was quiet for a moment, then said, “That’s very unusual. Keeping your race a secret. Or,” he gestured to his pointed ears, “So thinks one who cannot hide so easily.”

“I’m sure we could find you a headdress that hid your ears,” I replied with a smile.

He had more questions. I could feel it. But most of them were sort of personal to ask someone you didn’t know well, and Mihalak apparently wasn’t the type to pry. I spread my harness of knives out on the floor of the boat and made a note I’d need to clean and oil it, and all the knives, tonight.

As we drew close to the dock where the royal barge would end its journey, I dressed again in uncomfortably damp clothing, and Quill wrapped his damp coat around my shoulders. I clasped it closed around me, as a modest Angari would after a thorough dunking in pale clothes. Handily, it covered my knives.

The servants waiting at the docks gasped and fussed over us when we docked and disembarked. I told them I’d fainted and fallen overboard, and they accepted the explanation.

They fetched us water and juice to drink, and chairs to sit on, and we settled in to wait for the royal barge.

Sitting between Quill and Mihalak, I found myself leaning into Quill and was sorely tempted to rest my head on his shoulder. I doubted, however, even a nearly drowned leanyodi would make such a display. Instead, I asked Mihalak, “Does Terrimbir have much contact with the Empire? I noticed the Empire’s delegation seemed friendly with Ambassador Balint.”

Mihalak shrugged. “Balint was in the Empire for a time. Last year the High Lord recalled him and sent him to Angareth as part of the delegation who negotiated the marriage treaty.”

“Do you know Balint well?”

The elf shrugged again. “I know of him, and have met him from time to time.” He narrowed his eyes, “Why? Do you think he has something to do with those traitors?”

“I don’t know,” I looked at Quill, who was watching us, “I know he doesn’t approve of the treaty.”

Mihalak snorted, “Almost no one approves of the treaty. At least not in public.”

“Fair,” I conceded.

“Balint has served the High Lord well for decades. He would not do anything to harm Terrimbir.”

“But,” I said carefully, “would he take matters into his own hands if he believed the High Lord was harming Terrimbir?”

Mihalak frowned.

“Or, could he be persuaded? By those who might want Angareth and Terrimbir to shred each other?”

He gave me a sharp look. “Like who?” His eyes fell on Quill, silent beside me. “Why are you really here? You are not Angari, either of you.”

Quill met his gaze, “We’re here to preserve the treaty, Mihalak. We work for King Keleman, even if our blood isn’t Angari.”

“And you think Balint is trying to undermine it?” demanded Mihalak, anger seeping into his voice.

I lifted a placating hand, “I’m only asking, Mihalak. We have to ask questions in order to get answers.”

Mihalak opened his mouth to say more, then stopped and stood. “The barge is here. And something is wrong.”

Quill and I also got to our feet. The barge was approaching slowly, with the sailors waiting with the mooring ropes. There was a crowd of people waiting to disembark already…and there was no music.

*

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Tirien’s bell tower loomed closer on the western banks of Juni and I found my gaze straying to it often. The Countess had noted my presence, and when she expressed thirst it was Galo who left to make sure a pitcher was brought. Disabusing them of the assumption that I’d sensed something wasn’t worth the effort. General danger was real enough, even if this danger was more immediately to me. I tried to keep an eye on Valredes. For a while he was talking to the dark-haired man I assumed was Lord Menrellos. Probably a son or cousin to the Menrellos who had been the Regent of Dalyn when it was first conquered. But then Valredes moved, and I couldn’t look for him without twisting around noticeably.

I was wondering melodramatically if I would ever sleep again when a large black bird swooped down and perched on the deck rail just a few feet away. The women made little gasps of surprise at the raven’s unceremonious appearance. “Rabanki,” I breathed.

The raven cawed, flew to my shoulder and plucked one of the white feathers from my crown before I could decide if I should swat at him or not. Rabanki took off back toward the western bank. I narrowly kept the snarl off my face but turned instinctively to follow the bird’s flight. He swooped over the water—a flagrant victory swoop, I thought—then passed over a couple boats, losing hold of the feather as he did. I did snarl, then, watching the impossible creature disappear in a loop around the royal barge. Rabanki…by Fornern.

I scanned the boats on the river, looking for my stolen feather, not that I could get it back. It had fallen on the canopy of a flat little pleasure boat not far from the royal barge. I sighed, resolving to watch the feather until we passed it. After a moment I realized that this barge, like many others, was keeping pace. Unlike the others, it was drifting closer. I leaned forward, there were men in the boat, and they were not dressed for a party. No, not human males. Fornern’s fists. Those were pointed ears. Elves. With grappling hooks and weapons and grim looks.

An attempt on the Countess—or the Queen—here, now, by elves, would be almost as disastrous as success. Ayglos must’ve seen them and sent Rabanki to warn me. Rohhel bless her damn bird. I had only a heartbeat to decide. With a gasp, I swooned and toppled over the rail into the river.

*

The water closed over my head, neatly plucking the feather crown off and leaving it bobbing on the surface. I dove immediately, fumbling at the buttons on my light coat even as I reached a hasty greeting to the Juni. Lady of Moors and Mountains.

The Juni’s voice was strong and clear; Daiesenda of Many Waters.

Will you help me defend Angareth? I shucked the coat, the linen drifting away in the current like a jelly fish, and made for the underside of the little boat.

I felt assurance shudder through the river. Laying my hand on the flat belly of the boat I asked the Juni to keep this little boat and its occupants away from the big one. Part of me wanted to sink it, but that would draw too much attention—if the Juni would do that. I felt the subtle shift in the upper current and grinned. A moment later I located the pole they were using to steer and wrenched it away. Swimming to the side furthest from the royal barge I surfaced and hoisted myself aboard.

Three elves on the port side spun at the rocking of the boat and the sound of water, the navigator at the stern was still gazing after his pole.

I grinned at them and they gaped. I was shocking; laced blue, the pale clothes clinging, my harness of knives exposed, arisen from no where. “The River says to leave that barge alone,” I said in Angari. “You can come with me peaceably to explain yourselves, or I will make you come.”

One sneered. Two charged.

I hurled myself away from them and at the navigator, hitting him at the hips and flinging us both off the stern. The elf clawed for the surface, and I let him, committing him to the river’s care and diving back for the others. The two were at the stern, one with a sword ready, the other looked like he was futilely reaching for the navigator. I went for the third elf who was at the prow, playing counterbalance. I leapt for his neck, a shark after a seal. He splashed into the river with a cry and his companions yelped as the boat bucked.

Darting under the boat, I popped up at the stern and heaved my weight up, tipping the boat further as the elves scrabbled back from the edge. The Juni faltered, uncertain about capsizing the boat. Fair enough. I vaulted on board instead and threw myself at the prow, righting the vessel. The elves were disorganized now, staggering to their feet. Drawing Shiharr I pounced on the nearest, heaving him around and laying the blade against his throat. “Stop!” I snarled at his companion.

The elf hesitated, hand hovering just above the sword that had fallen in the confusion. He looked from his companion to me, and said in heavily accented Angari, “Others return, let him go.”

“You think so?” I answered in Angari. Content they not know I understood Terrim. “The River has them, and the River is with me.”

The elf straightened a little, leaving the sword where it was, and dared a glance over the side. I didn’t turn away from him. I didn’t want to know how many bystanders we had, and I trusted the river to keep the others out of reach. Bring me to the shore, I willed the river. I needed support to take them all alive, I had to hope Ayglos or Jemin would be making for the riverbank.

“Meddler,” snarled the elf, turning back to me. “The blood of land and forest does not concern you.”

“Hot springs are water,” I snapped, “And you pollute them with blood.”

“The Angari pollute them, we would have them pure.” The elf looked at his companion then grabbed for his sword. A price worth paying, apparently.

As the elf came at me, I plunged overboard with my prisoner. The elf in my arms flailed in panic. I released him enough for me to sheath Shiharr, then caught hold of him again before he could get far. I earned a solid blow in the shoulder from his thrashing, and narrowly avoided a blow to the head. I glimpsed other nymphs in the water just before we broke the surface again. The elf gasped for air. We weren’t terribly far from the elf in the barge, and he was trying to use the sword to paddle the boat. I didn’t know where he was trying to go, but even without the Juni’s intervention he wouldn’t get far. I could see the other two elves trying to swim but not making any headway.

Rabanki swooped into view and then flew a wide circle around me. I squinted up at him and watched as he made for one of the longer piers. There was a burly figure there, I thought. I started for it, asking the Juni to bring the boat and the other elves. The river seemed relieved to bring them toward shore, and it occurred to me that her folk were likely asking her to help the boat and its occupants—seeing only a boat in distress. I was glad Ayglos had spent time befriending the river, I was doubtless treading on his favor. What I didn’t know was if he’d made friends with the River Folk who were now drawing close.

*

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I was growing bored, and over-warm in the sun, when my eyes snagged on none other than Adorjan Bulgar moving through the crowd below. He’d made it at last. He saw the Countess in the prow of the ship, sitting with the Queen and Aurel Terr, and changed his course to avoid her. Apparently, he wasn’t ready for that confrontation. Galo was with the Countess, and Druskin nearby, and I could see them staring daggers at him.

I smirked and left the railing to find a shady spot where I could watch the proceedings. Brell had left me a bit ago in favor of talking to some of the Princess’s leanyodi. I strolled toward the middle of the barge where there was a pavilion set up. I walked most of the way around the barge only to discover that all the seats in the pavilion were taken, so I took the stairs down and started my circuit on the lower level. From down here, I could clearly see nymphs and men working the boats on the shore and I stopped to lean on the railing and watch them. I turned away when my eyes started to prick.

Rounding one of the giant vases of heather, I nearly walked into a man. When I looked up, I choked. Cleanshaven, high cheek bones, brown eyes. Bel Valredes hadn’t changed that much in the past few years.

*

Zephra. I’m Zephra, I reminded myself, fluttering my hand to my chest as I stepped back. I sputtered in Angari, “My apologies, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Our make-up was lighter today, in anticipation of the warm sun, but my kohl was still thick, I was six years older, and tremendously out of context. He might not recognize me.

Bel smiled. By Fornern, I’d forgotten how handsome he was. “The fault is mine, hian,” his reply was in equally fluent Angari. “Are you alright?”

It wasn’t as though he’d knocked me over, but it was courtly to ask, I supposed. “I’m alright, thank you.” I smiled at him—which was easier than it should have been.

“I’m Lord Belledi Valredes of the Empire of Daiesen.” He bowed.

“Hian Zephra Ruddybrook, I am one of the Countess Adelheid Wuhn’s leanyodi.” I gave a little bow in return.

His eyes sharpened then, and a panic darted through me wondering if that was recognition. But he said, “You must be incredibly busy with the wedding.”

“Indeed,” I replied. I almost excused myself, but Bel was accustomed to being charming, brushing him off too quickly might excite his interest. “You speak Angari very well.”

“Thank you, Hian.” He hesitated as if he would say something, then instead he turned slightly and gestured behind him to the cluster of people from Daiesen. It was smaller now, I noted, some had apparently broken off to mingle, “I’m here with Lord Menrellos, the Ambassador from the Empire and his family. We came to wish the Countess and Lord well on their wedding.”

For all the titles in my past, the many roles I’d played, I was better with knives than situations like this. “We are honored by your presence.” That sounded about right. “Do you often travel with the good Ambassador?”

“Sometimes,” he replied, “When I am not needed at home, and when he is dispatched to a land such as this, which has incomparable horses.”

“You will not find another as nimble or hearty,” I agreed. This man, I thought, would probably know exactly from whence our horses hailed if he got a look at them. He was also the sort to go strolling through any stable he saw just to see if there was anything he wanted to buy.

“Do you ride, hian?” he asked.

“All Angari ride,” I laughed.

Something flickered in his face—confusion?—and panic shot through me again. Fornern’s fists. I needed to get away from this conversation. Bel had known me not as me but as a simplistic merchant girl besotted with an ill-fated king. What mannerisms or tones had I assumed when I played a sweet girl? Were they the same every time?

“Point,” agreed Bel, after just a heartbeat longer than was natural, “But some ride more than others.”

“I do not ride as much as I did before coming to the Countess’s service,” I replied, letting wistfulness into my tone. “But I dearly love riding.”

He smiled. “Should you have any spare moments while we’re here, I’ve contracted for two mares and a stallion from Yagyar’s bloodlines. They are in the palace stables if you want to see them.”

“You must have a silver tongue, indeed, if you persuaded Yagyar to part with two mares,” I didn’t have to fake being impressed, “But I’m afraid my duties won’t leave me time for such visiting. Indeed,” I seized the chance, “I need to go to my lady now.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Hian Ruddybrook,” Bel bowed.

I dipped in a quick bow in return and headed toward the prow. My heart was pounding. I had no idea if Bel had recognized me. I found the Countess still sitting with the Queen and Aurel Terr. I slipped up to stand beside Galo. Galo gave me a sideways look, questioning. I shook my head slightly. Nothing was wrong. Yet.

*

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In my dream, my knife was just out of reach. She was standing in front of me, black robes and hair, her red lips smiling as she lifted a single finger and with it pushed my entire city off my beautiful white cliffs into the surging water below. I could do nothing to stop her. I could only watch the stones fall and feel the deaths of my people. I strained for my knife, panting. If not salvation, revenge. But every time my finger brushed the hilt, the knife turned to smoke. The city materialized on the cliff top again, and she looked at me, taunting. She was going to do it again. She was going to destroy my home again. I felt betrayed. As if she had violated some pact between us with her actions. I gasped, in an effort I willed my knife into my hand and lunged.

*

My heart hammered as I stared into the darkness of the Countess’s chamber. Azzad glinted in the moonlight, the tip trembling. I was trembling. I lowered Azzad to the coverlet, sucking in deep breaths and letting them out again deliberately as I tried to regain control. I’d dreamed of Narya Magnifique, Empress of Daiesen, the Nether Queen, many, many times. But I had never awoken with a deep sense of betrayal. My skin crawled. I scanned the room. It was empty. My heartrate slowed finally, but I didn’t put away my knife. Pushing up on my knees I moved to the foot of the bed to check on the Countess. She was breathing evenly; in the dim light I couldn’t see any wounds. Gingerly I felt around the covers for any sign of blood. I found none, and startled back when she shifted and sighed. I waited, heart racing again, but she didn’t wake. I crawled back to the head of the bed and slipped under the covers, returning Azzad to her resting place under the pillow. I didn’t sleep.

*

Lunch the following day was a party on the royal barge in the river. It was a fine day of unabashed sunshine and big soft clouds rolling through a blue sky. The barge was enormous, garlanded with heather and flowers, bursting with people wearing vibrant colors and ornate headdresses, both men and women. I guessed it was all the same people as that first banquet, including the foreign guests. The Countess and her retinue were in light purple, our collars were made of white feathers and the Countess was wearing an enormous beaded headdress that flashed and glittered in the warm sun. We each had feather crowns and I’d had to work hard not to laugh at them. There were more bare shoulders than I’d yet seen in Angareth, spring in the valley much further along than spring on the moors. On the banks of the river, the people of Gar Morwen had gathered in a street festival of sorts. There were venders and flower garlands and people picnicking where they could see the barge drift past and catch the music of the royal musicians. Other folk were out on the water, some working, some clearly out to gawk. I noticed people in the water, too, and thought there was a blue cast to their skin. Nymphs.

I was on the upper level of the barge, my hands resting lightly on the railing as I watched people milling about below. Rabanki had been in my rooms when I’d returned to them this morning. The bird was trying to get into the wardrobe, I had thrown a shoe at him. I’d missed—on purpose—but Rabanki was so indignant that he almost didn’t give me Ayglos’s note. I didn’t feel bad, though. There was evidence he’d rifled through the vials of tonic and soap in the bathing room before I’d arrived, and who knows what he would’ve taken from the wardrobe if he’d gotten it open. Fingering my gold pendant, I turned my eyes to the buildings on the western bank. I could see the bell tower of a church dedicated to Tirien slowly edging toward us. Ayglos’s note, short and sardonic, had indicated that’s where he’d be. The tower commanded a sweeping view of the curve of the river, and an archer like Eliah would be tremendously dangerous in a perch like that. So, Ayglos would guard it. Just because the Scythe preferred knives didn’t mean he’d use them. If it was the Scythe we were dealing with.

Brell appeared at my elbow. “Zephra, look down and to the left, you can see the entire delegation from here.”

I didn’t need to ask which delegation. Brell was far to canny to point, but I followed her gaze to the group standing on the starboard side of the barge. Now that I knew he was here; I didn’t have any difficulty picking Bel Valredes out from the group. There were five others, two women and four men.

“Which one knew you?” asked Brell.

“The one closest to the vase—brown hair, brown eyes—Lord Belledi Valredes, if you got his name.”

“I did,” Brell made an appreciative noise. “I will happily keep him distracted from you if he wanders too close,” she smiled at me.

I restrained the urge to tell her to be careful. She didn’t strike me as stupid, and it was very likely Bel posed no danger to her.

“How’s the investigation?” she asked.

“Well, we haven’t caught anyone yet.” I wasn’t getting nearly enough sleep, my dreams were getting worse, and I was mostly relying on the other members of our team to track down money trails and rumors in the city.  

Brell gave my hand a reassuring pat. “You will. You have to.”

*

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I slept lightly, my dreams troubled by the flash of a falling knife blow, and woke when the first rays of sun snuck in between the drapes. I had two kinds of dreams: the ones driven by my own fears and memories, and the ones driven by the gifting in the human half of my bloodline. Sometimes I couldn’t tell the difference.

The Countess was sound asleep, despite having her head at the wrong end of the bed. I had time to slip out of bed and take myself and my knives to the couch where the morning leanyodi would expect to find me. They bustled in a short time later, and I removed to my own room to get dressed. I found that I was grateful for the extravagant makeup of the Angari. That, and the scores of other leanyodi for the various important ladies who also wandered the palace, gave me a measure of confidence that I could walk the halls without being recognized. No matter who was in the delegation from the Empire.

*

The library at the Palace of Domes was lovely. Tall dark wood shelves stuffed with gilded volumes spread from a field of long tables like the petals on a flower. There were stained glass windows along one wall, set high, but the sun was long gone, leaving the glass drained of color. Glass lamps were mounted throughout at intervals, giving the room a soft orange glow. There were only a few people around, most of them dressed in the robes of the librarians. I found a secluded set of tables deeper in and found the genealogies I was supposed to be showing Quill all along a back wall. It felt like ages since we’d set up this little ruse. Back when I’d meant it whenever I told Druskin I wasn’t a bodyguard. Now I felt anxious leaving the Countess out of reach, even if I had left her at a private dinner with the Queen.

I grabbed a few genealogies, red leather volumes, and spread them on a table, and then sat down to wait. I closed my eyes and listened to the library. The flickering of the lamps. The deep silence of the books. The occasional shuffle or sniff of the others elsewhere in the room. I neglected my human gifts; hadn’t known I’d possessed any for a long time. It’d taken two separate incidents for me to really believe I’d inherited some of my father’s gifts. First, a voice had roused me from a drugged sleep so I could escape. I’d never heard a voice since, but years later I’d dreamed so clearly the Hunter sneaking into my room at the inn that I’d awoken and thrown a knife. The Hunter died before even making my bedside.

Sometimes…if I were very quiet…I thought I could feel the souls around me. Though here, with the Juni River just a few walls away, it was difficult to feel anything but her. I sighed though my nose and closed her out, focusing on the breathing of the others in the library. They were quiet, focused on their studies. There were no swirling storms of emotion, though I could feel some gentling churning—like a spoon in a thick stew.

Hearing the faint click of the library door, I slipped my hand into my sleeve and loosened a knife. But I recognized the soul that walked in.

It didn’t take Quill long to find me. He slid into the seat across from me and gave me a small smile. “Leanyod Ruddybrook.”

“Quilleran.”

“When the Countess suggested understanding genealogies might be key to this case, I didn’t expect her to choose so pleasant a tutor.”

I choked back a snort, and pushed one of the books toward him. “I’ve barely slept and spent the better part of the day listening to wedding plans and court gossip. Right now, I wish the Countess had decided knife fighting was essential to solving the mystery.”

The smile shifted into a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind a fight myself. I spent half the day in meetings, and half sneaking—but was able to get away to meet with the others for a few hours.”

“Did you learn anything?”

“Balint was the Ambassador here when the treaty was negotiated, but the shadows haven’t turned up anything incriminating yet on him. Though, rumor has it the assassin we’ll be dealing with is the Scythe.”

Damn. I leaned back. “I’ve heard of him.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve met him or know what he looks like?”

“Please. If they get that close to me, they don’t survive.”

A wry smile tipped his lips, “I thought perhaps, socially.”

“We may be outlaws, but I don’t usually make friends with assassins.” Not after Tadrow Grea kicked off my career as a mercenary. Ayglos was the face of our little operation except when we deliberately wanted to flash my name.

“Do you know anything about his style?” Quill opened the book in front of him and pretended to read.

I followed suit. “He’s not a poisoner, at least. More of a knife in the dark type.”

Quill nodded. “I suppose that’s good news. I don’t know that the Countess would submit to someone tasting all her food before she eats.”

“Some poisons kill slowly, so that’s not necessarily enough anyway,” I replied.

“Did you stumble on anything interesting amongst wedding things?” he turned a page.

“Nothing of consequence, many of the internal feuds we knew of already or are too far from the Countess to be relevant. You’ll be glad to know that we’ve resolved the issue of the Yagyar and the Mansi both wanting to occupy the fourth row during the ceremony.” I saw amusement flicker across Quill’s face. “Hadella—she’s the leanyodi who is essentially the steward of Wuhnravinwel—is far more involved in the wedding planning than I expected. I knew she ran things at Wuhnravinwel, but apparently, she’s been the Countess’s right hand for most things relating to the wedding. Which, must make her very grumpy because the girls tell me Hadella hates that the Countess is marrying Ilya Terr.” I sighed. “You know, Quill, bodyguarding isn’t really my line of work.”

Quill looked at me sharply. “I never asked you to bodyguard.”

“Druskin has all but begged.”

Quill’s expression said he didn’t care if Druskin begged on his knees.

I arched a brow. “If she dies, it doesn’t matter if we find out who hired the assassin.”

“That’s not true,” he replied, “Though it would make things significantly harder.”

“She and Ilya have a real chance,” I said, “They have a real chance of changing the relationship between Angareth and Terrimbir. Building a strong alliance.” Against the Empire, I didn’t need to add. “A real chance at love, even.”

I didn’t know how to read the look Quill gave me. After a moment he said, “Can you fit armor under those clothes?”

“Are you that worried?”

“If you’re throwing your body over hers, I’d prefer armor on your body.”

I tipped my head. I don’t know what came over me, but I said, “That’s what you’d prefer on my body?”

A spark entered his eyes. “I prefer stripes.”

“If the Scythe is Angari that might distract him enough to miss,” I quipped, ignoring the way my heart started racing.

He let his gaze sweep over me, as if the table wasn’t between us to block his view, “He wouldn’t have to be Angari.”

My skin was hot, but I gave him a slow half smile. “I’m sure the Countess won’t mind if I change my uniform.”

“Good,” said Quill, returning to the genealogy in front of him. “That’s settled, then.”

I turned the page in the book in front of me, not really seeing any of the names. The flirtation was definitely different on this job. And I was having such a hard time remembering why it was a bad idea.

*

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The Countess retired from the pageantry around midnight, and I was very glad to escape the glittering halls in favor of her quiet chambers. She’d danced the whole night with Ilya Terr, and talked with him when they weren’t dancing. The court could barely function for staring. Brell, Karolya and I handed the Countess off to other leanyodi and headed down the hallway to our own rooms. When I stopped at my door, Brell stopped, too.

She tossed me a conspiratorial look, “I met the entire delegation.”

“Did you?”

“Some handsome men in that group,” she said, arching a brow, “I’m dying to know which one you know and why. But they were invited. Which, is hardly a surprise since our King invited everyone within two month’s journey. The Ambassador’s companions claim they volunteered to come because of the horses.”

I looked at her skeptically, my hand on the doorknob. “Here for the horses?”

“Some of the families will sell or give horses to those who ask,” explained Brell. I knew that already. I also already knew that Valredes was a connoisseur of horseflesh.

“Is that all?”

She shrugged. “That’s what they said. Do you think they’re lying?”

I met her eyes, “I don’t know.”

Brell gave me a nod, coquettishness fading. “I’ll keep an eye on them,” she said, seriously, before turning and continuing down the hallway.

I changed into the loose-fitting trousers and tunic and washed the silver and kohl of my face. I slipped Shiharr and Azzad over my shoulders, and a dressing gown over that. Then I padded barefoot down the hall and back to the Countess’s chambers. The guards nodded to me and let me pass. They would have orders from Druskin about me.

One of the leanyodi had just finished spreading blankets on the couch in the sitting room. She nodded at me and headed out the door. I waited a few moments, absorbing the silence of the room until two more leanyodi exited the bedroom. They both nodded to me. The moment they were gone, I walked into the bedroom. The Countess was sitting on the bed in night clothes similar to mine, her long hair hanging loose down her back. Her face was pink from scrubbing off all the paint. One lamp sat lit on a table beside the bed.

She looked at me in surprise. “Zephra? What are you doing in here? Is something wrong?”

I crossed my arms, “Nothing’s wrong. But I have bad news.”

“What is it?” she was deadly serious.

“I’ll be sleeping in the bed.”

She stared at me. “What?”

“I haven’t decided yet if you can sleep in the bed, too,” I continued the bedside and fluffed the pillows. “Though, with two bodies any assassin would have a solid chance of making the wrong choice, and I can keep a closer eye on you than if you were on the couch.”

“Zephra…”

“Yes,” I decided, “you can stay in the bed. Some assassins would be all too happy to slit the throat of an attendant on a couch.”

“Zephra!” she lurched backwards, hand to her chest in horror.

It was probably a little callous to tell her this way, but I’d had time to think while she was dancing and I was carefully dodging a piece of my past through the ballroom. I’d had time to remember knives in the dark, assassins and Huntsmen alike. I’d taken on several through the years. I wasn’t taking chances with the Countess.

“Druskin mentioned he’d asked you to stay in my chambers,” said the Countess, “I didn’t realize he meant in my bed.” Her tone conveyed that she knew perfectly well Druskin hadn’t meant her bed. I was pretty sure Angari spoke about beds as little as possible and thought about them constantly.

I tossed two pillows to the foot of the bed, “We’ll put your head at the foot of the bed, it’ll be safer down there.”

“Zephra!” the Countess objected again, jumping to her feet and snatching up one of the pillows. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“My lady,” I turned to face her, one hand propped on my hip, “I would rather sleep in my own bed than yours.”

“This can’t really be necessary.”

“Do I need to remind you that several people want you dead?” I fixed her with a stare, hard enough that her indignation faded.

She took a deep breath and nodded, “Of course. Nothing has changed.”

Her perspective on the wedding had shifted. The threats to her life had not. Putting my hand on her elbow, I said, “If anyone were to try violence in the night, better they find a paranoid knife fighter instead of a politically gifted Countess.”

She gazed at me, looking through me like she had once or twice before. I looked away quickly, uprooting the sheets and blanks from the end of the bed so she could climb beneath them more easily. She didn’t say anything as she crawled into bed, or as I turned down the lamp, shed my dressing gown, and tucked my knives under one of the feather pillows. Once I’d gotten into bed myself, and we’d arranged ourselves carefully so our legs didn’t touch, the Countess asked, “How many people have you killed?”

I sighed, letting my body practically soak into the feather mattress and pillows. I thought of her face when I’d killed the man in her tent. “Many,” I said at last.

“Is it…difficult?”

“Mechanically? Not really, people are fragile things.”

“You know what I mean.”

I closed my eyes. There were parts of my mind where I did not dwell. I did not dwell on the feel or smell of blood, nor the sound of breath leaving a body. I did not dwell on what the stories of the dead might have been. I had accepted that I was a blade. And it was never a difficult choice. “I do not enjoy killing,” I said softly.

She was quiet for a while. Long enough that I thought she might be sleeping when she said, “I have killed many also—by my word, not by my hand—I do not enjoy it either.”

Even though it was dark, I propped myself up on my elbows to look at her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever shared a bed before.”

“You were wedged between Galo and I on the road,” I said.

“That was different. Now my head is at the wrong end and I can’t sleep.”

I could hear the rueful smile in her words. “Are you sure it’s the bed, and not a certain elf-lord who’s keeping you up?” it was grossly impertinent to say, but it came out anyway.

She actually laughed. “I feel very silly, but…it was…delightful…to spend the evening with him.”

“That’s probably a good sign,” I replied, laying down again.

“I forgot people were trying to kill me,” her voice was small.

“I noticed.”

*

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