Chapter Eighteen

Sophie walked the halls of Level Three, while Kane and Ariana slept in the room the three of them had shared last night. She wore the new gown Liane had procured for her—a simple, but not transparent, yellow frock with a snug fitting bodice and a flowing skirt that just barely swept the floor.

Residents of this Level stared at her as she passed. They did not speak to her. By now they all surely knew that before the end of the day tomorrow she was to be their empress. Some of them were afraid of her, others were simply curious. In different circumstances she might’ve stopped to speak, to smile and assure them that they should not be afraid of her. She wanted to tell them all that their curiosity was wasted since she most certainly was not going to be empress. But she walked silently and alone. If she couldn’t do this, she might very well become empress.

And perhaps there was reason for fear.

She entered the large room where the baths were located. No matter what the hour of the day, it always seemed to be night in this room. There were no windows, and the lighting was odd. Those bowls of flames and the strange rods set in the walls cast a yellow glow everywhere.

Four women and one man stood in the pool. The man was Brus, whom she remembered too well. The five laughed softly and bathed one another, washing each other’s hair and splashing like children. When they realized that they were not alone, they all turned to Sophie and went silent.

Sophie went inside herself and examined her emotions. Hate was too volatile to control, and until Galvyn had taken her daughter she hadn’t known that emotion at all. She pushed it deep. Love brimmed within her, but she didn’t know if she could control that, either. She already knew what a disaster that emotion could cause. Fear, lust, joy, grief; she had known them all.

She watched the five beautiful people in the pool, all of them young and pretty and apparently without a care in the world. Even Brus. In fact, it was possible he was prettier than the women.

They all led privileged lives, here in this palace. Decadent, yes, but also favored, in many ways. Had they ever known sadness?

Sophie thought about the day her mother had died. She’d felt so lost, so betrayed and bereaved. Willym’s death, years later, had affected her in much the same way. A tear trickled down her cheek. The loss of a loved one was a terrible thing, and it was a trial everyone would have to deal with in their lifetime. Knowing that didn’t make the pain any less sharp.

She remembered looking down into Ariana’s cradle and realizing that her daughter was gone. The grief she’d experienced at that moment had been much the same as the realization of death. She had never felt so helpless.

And she thought about her sisters. She had loved them so much; she still did. But they had betrayed her, and even if they were reunited and she forgave them, nothing would ever be the same. That was sad, too, that she would never again love her sisters in the same way she once had.

The sadness built up inside her. She held it there, within, until it was so strong it affected the beat of her heart and the warmth of her skin.

And then she released it. For a few moments it was as if she could actually see the sadness radiating off her skin. It was a strange shade of green, and shimmered like the surface of the water as it spread outward. Sophie stepped closer to the edge of the pool, and the shimmering green moved with her. It touched the bathers, and they shuddered.

They seemed unaware of the green shimmer, and after a moment Sophie could no longer see it, either. But it was still there. One of the girls began to cry right away, tears streaming down her face.

Brus placed his hand on her shoulder and asked, “What’s wrong, Petra?”

He whispered. The masters-in-training were not permitted to speak, according to Liane, but apparently in the company of friends the rules were changed. Or ignored.

Petra turned to Brus and buried her head against his shoulder. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought of my father for years, but suddenly I remembered the day he brought me here. He was so sick...”

The other three women began to cry, too, each in their own way. One sobbed, another sniffled, the other stood there while silent tears ran down her cheeks. Petra continued to seek comfort in Brus’s arms.

But Brus was feeling pain of his own. Sophie could see the grief in his eyes, even though there were no tears.

Now it was time for the true test. Sophie pulled the emotion back into herself. She tried to see the green shimmer, as she concentrated on sucking it back within her body. At first she did not succeed, but eventually it happened. The sadness that had affected the others receded. It returned to Sophie. For a few long minutes it floated around her like a cloud, and then it ebbed into her body.

The people in the pool did not immediately stop crying. The memories the wave of sadness had brought to them were very real, and it would take time for them to recede. But the tears did slow, somewhat.

Brus looked up at Sophie with an unspoken accusation in his eyes. He wondered what she had done, but he did not dare to ask.

Sophie turned and walked away from the pool, her stride sure and purposeful. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Her power, such as it was, could be controlled.

She retained the thoughts of her mother and her sisters and Willym in her mind as she walked down the hallway, but she kept her emotions harnessed. She passed by women who continued to talk to one another in soft voices, laughing and gossiping, unaffected by Sophie’s sadness. It wasn’t easy to hold the emotions in, but she imagined with practice it would get easier.

At the end of the hall, a window looked down on the city. The morning sun was shining brightly now, and she went to that window to offer her face to the sun. That sunshine gave her strength. It always had, she just hadn’t understood. There was so much she had never understood.

Sophie laid her hands over her belly, and her sadness faded away. A smile crossed her face. Her time with Kane would be filled with long sleepless nights and babies. At one time, she’d imagined that to be the worst of fates, but now...now she knew that’s what was meant to be. Somehow they would find a way to end the curse. She wouldn’t allow the possible pains of tomorrow to ruin today.

She was not like her mother or her grandmother or any of the Fyne women who had come before; she was her own woman. A mother, a woman who would love only one man until the end of her days, a powerful witch.

Powerful enough?

Liane awoke after a mere three hours’ sleep, snug in her own bed. She was a little bit surprised to find herself still alive and still on Level Three. Last night she’d purposely prodded Sebestyen, she’d purposely angered him. That was never wise.

Maybe he was waiting until after the wedding ceremony before tossing her into Level Thirteen. Maybe he wanted to make his bride watch, or participate.

Liane had not gone to one of the Masters, or a master-in-training, after leaving the emperor’s bedchamber last night. She’d certainly thought about it, not because her body demanded release, but because she wanted to prove to herself that any man could fill her bed and her body as well as the emperor she longed to kill.

She rose and dressed in a crimson robe, and in a fit of pique twisted her hair back and up and secured it tightly. Not that Sebestyen would see her today, but knowing he preferred her hair down made her determined to cinch the long strands severely. There was no color to her face this morning, as if her argument with Sebestyen had leeched the bloom from her skin. The lack of color made her look older, so she darkened the rims of her eyes and applied rouge to her cheeks and lips. If he did see her, he would be sorry he hadn’t laid with her last night.

When Sebestyen got tired of Sophie and asked for his favorite concubine, she’d send someone else in her place.

If he sent for her. If she wasn’t fighting for her life far beneath the surface of the earth.

Liane jumped when an unexpected knock sounded on her door. Had Sebestyen sent for her already? If so, then he intended to dispose of her before the wedding, not after. The wedding wasn’t scheduled to take place until early tomorrow afternoon. A number of priests and those ministers residing in the palace would be in attendance, as well as the Tryfynian ambassador who was scheduled to arrive later today. Sebestyen had not sent for his mother or any of his sisters, since a wedding was not exactly an uncommon event for Columbyana’s emperor.

Sure enough, it was Taneli, one of Sebestyen’s personal guards, who stood at the door. He’d most likely get great enjoyment out of watching her fall.

“Emperor Sebestyen has requested that his bride’s child be brought to him. The nurse on Level Five informed me that you fetched it yesterday.”

Liane pushed down her panic. Why would Sebestyen ask for Ariana? Surely he wouldn’t harm the baby. She remembered the cry from Level Thirteen. Perhaps the haunting sound hadn’t been her imagination after all.

“Why?” she asked sharply.

The sentinel's ruddy face hardened. “The emperor didn’t tell me why, he just told me to collect the baby.”

Of course.

She could refuse to hand Ariana over to Taneli, but what good would that do? Sebestyen would have the palace searched, Ariana and Kane would be found, Kane would fight...and Kane would die. He was already half dead, thanks to the beating Nairn had given him.

“I will take the baby to the emperor myself,” she said, leaving her room and closing the door behind her.

“I’ll escort you.”

Liane walked down the hall with the damned sentinel at her heels. Sebestyen likely did not wish to see her, and she certainly didn’t wish to see him. But she would not hand her niece over to Taneli. She’d take the child to Sebestyen herself.

When she reached the room where her brother and his family had spent the night, she hesitated. “Wait here.”

Taneli balked, but she gave him her best glare and he took a step back. He even leaned against the wall beside the door, as if settling himself in for a long and impatient wait. Liane entered the room, and the sight on the bed almost stopped her heart.

Kane lay there on his side with a sleeping Ariana tucked against his chest. Sophie was nowhere to be seen.

The way her brother held his child was enough to move her heart, but that wasn’t what made her react so strongly. Kane’s bruises and cuts were gone. All that remained was a thin white scar across his cheek.

“This isn’t possible,” Liane whispered. “You’re...healed.”

Kane lifted his head and smiled. “One of the benefits of falling in love with a witch.”

Liane stepped closer to the bed. “Sophie is a witch?” she asked in a properly lowered voice.

Kane nodded and returned his gaze to the sleeping child. His smile indicated an emotion so unlike anything she herself had experienced in the past sixteen years that she was envious. Envious of her own brother and his happiness.

“Sebestyen has asked for Ariana to be brought to him.”

Kane’s smile faded. “No. He can’t have my daughter.”

“I’ll take care of her,” Liane said.

“No!”

She stepped closer to the bed. “If you want to see the child and Sophie dead, be stubborn,” she said softly. “Insist on having your way, face the sentinels all on your own, raise an uproar. Sebestyen will kill Sophie and Ariana and he’ll make you watch, and then he’ll kill you.”

Kane’s face hardened; his eyes were like fire. He placed one large hand over the baby, and she squirmed in her sleep.

“I promise you, I’ll take care of Ariana.” She touched his cheek, where—impossibly—only a thin scar marred his young face. He was just three years younger than she, but at the moment she felt absolutely ancient, and in her eyes Kane was still a child.

She remembered Sebestyen’s words from last night—all of them. Some of them she would never forget.

“It’s important that Sophie not get herself with child just yet. She will be safe until—”

“It’s too late,” Kane interrupted.

Liane shook her head. “Even if you did lie with her, you can’t know—”

“It’s too late,” he said again. “She’s going to have another baby, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let it come into this world bearing the name Beckyt.”

Liane reached down and gently took the child from Kane’s arms. “If you fight this, you’ll all end up dead.”

He leaped from the bed, amazingly agile for one who had just yesterday been beaten so badly he could barely breathe, much less move. “Wait for Sophie to return before you take the baby. If she comes back and Ariana’s gone—”

“I can’t wait. In fact, I need to hurry. There’s a sentinel waiting in the hallway.”

Neither of them had a weapon; Taneli was well armed. Liane turned away from her brother. “I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise.”

“But...”

As Liane reached the door, she spun on him. “I haven’t made a promise in sixteen years. I don’t make them lightly, and nothing could make me break this one.”

He sat heavily on the side of the bed and nodded, running his fingers through his hair in sheer frustration. Liane left him there, slipping through the door and closing it quickly.

Taneli pushed himself away from the wall. “You took your time in fetching that babe.”

“Do you think it’s easy to coax a child from her mother’s arms?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t know.”

Liane led the way down the hall, hoping and then praying that they didn’t run into Sophie along the way. Taneli would wonder who had been in that room with Ariana, and why Liane had lied about taking her from her mother.

But luck was with her, and they entered the lift without seeing Sophie.

Sophie would be furious when she returned to her room and Ariana wasn’t there with Kane, but there was nothing to be done for it.

Liane’s mind spun as the lift took her up. Sophie was already with child, according to Kane. Was it possible? How could she know without fail? She was a witch, and a powerful one judging by the way Kane’s wounds had mended overnight. How would Sebestyen react to this news? Would he take full advantage of the power at his fingertips, or would he dispose of Sophie without waiting for Maddox’s return?

He had feared magic since the wizard’s prophecy, and would have outlawed it just as his grandfather had done if not for the benefits to himself. The witches on Level Seven made sure there were no babies born on Level Three, and a witch had concocted the first batch of Panwyr. Some of the generals had witches or wizards or seers in their employ, advisers when it came time to plan for battle against the rebels.

Sebestyen didn’t mind such happenings, as long as they did not touch him directly. Should she tell him that his bride was a witch? Would he be pleased or afraid?

When they reached the ballroom where Sebestyen waited, two sentinels opened the double doors wide. Ferghus looked at her strangely as she approached, Ariana snug in her arms, but neither of the sentinels tried to stop her. They did not search her.

Sebestyen waited on his throne, and while he did not smile at her, he did rise and step down from the dais.

“I did not expect to see you in the role of caretaker, especially after such an ardent and amorous night.”

Liane ignored the bait and did not tell him that she’d slept alone. “Why do you want this child?” she asked.

“It occurred to me that my bride might try to demur in front of the priests at our marriage ceremony or, heaven forbid, sneak out of the palace altogether. If the child is in my custody, she will surely cooperate.”

“Are you so determined to have her?”

He cocked one eyebrow, shrugged one shoulder. “I want her, and I always get what I want.”

“You want her for revenge.”

“Yes.”

Holding the baby snug in her arms, Liane walked toward Sebestyen. The baby made her feel stronger, more confident, more complete. She looked Sebestyen in the eye. “Let her go,” she said softly. “Sophie and the baby, send them home where they belong. When Maddox comes back to the palace, talk to him. Ask him why he felt he couldn’t trust you with the news that the Northern Palace had fallen. Listen to what he has to say, and then make peace.”

“When did you become a diplomat, Liane?” Sebestyen asked. His eyes were emotionless, a paler, colder blue than she remembered.

“He has always served you well, my lord. Surely there is a reason why he kept the news from you.”

Sebestyen reached up and removed one pin from her hair. Then another, then another. She stood there without moving, without protest while the strands of hair fell down, past her shoulders and down her back. When that was done, Sebestyen clasped his hand behind his back.

“You always liked Minister Sulyen,” he said absently.

“Yes. He’s...he’s a friend.”

“And yet you came to me with his betrayal.”

Liane’s heart jumped. “I felt I had no choice.”

“And now you beg sympathy for his family. I find that rather odd.”

Ariana squirmed in her arms, thinking of waking, mewing, and reaching for her next meal. She wondered if Sebestyen would allow her to call for the wet nurse. The thought of the baby going hungry distressed her.

“Yes,” Liane said quietly. “I beg sympathy for Maddox’s family.”

Sebestyen looked down at her, and a touch of amusement made his eyes sparkle. The corners of his lips twitched.

“This is rather enlightening. In the past you have only begged for me. In the interest of repaying you for years of loyal service, I will seriously consider not disposing of Sophie Fyne and her brat when I’m done with them. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

He gave in to the smile that had been teasing a moment earlier. “I want you to personally execute Maddox Sulyen.”

She hadn’t had a chance to return to her room, after walking the hallways and testing her newfound control. The experiment in the bath had not been enough; she’d tested herself several times, being careful not to cause any sort of a ruckus. Just when she was thinking of returning to Kane and Ariana, an older woman found her near the bath and exclaimed that it was time to prepare for the day. As future empress, apparently there were standards to be met.

Because she was too tired to fight, Sophie complied. Harnessing and releasing her energy and then retrieving it again was physically and mentally exhausting. It might be a good idea to regain some of that strength before she returned to Kane.

There were several ways in which she could use her newfound power in order to escape. With Kane and Ariana, she could very well walk out of the palace, swaying those along the way who might otherwise stop them. But there was always Liane to consider. If she continued to refuse to join them in their escape, they’d be putting her life at risk by leaving the palace.

Then again, she could use her powers directly on the emperor himself, convincing him to call off the ridiculous wedding. She wasn’t sure exactly how she’d do that, but it should be possible to sway him.

Sophie was bathed, her hair was styled atop her head, and she was dressed in a gown of blue. The same young girls who had bathed her assisted, along with two older women. All the while Sophie contemplated the words she would say when she saw the emperor again, and she was very careful to rein in her emotions.

One thought calmed her, in spite of the circumstances. She and Kane and their baby would walk out of this palace, unharmed and together. One way or another.

She refused the rouge that was offered, and the woman who had dressed her hair backed away quickly. Was there a new force in her voice because she had found herself, or did the woman fear her because she thought Sophie would soon be empress? For whatever reason, they were all a little afraid of her.

One of the crones insisted on escorting Sophie back to her room. She suggested more suitable quarters for the emperor’s bride, perhaps a suite on Level Five. Sophie declined, telling the old woman that she liked her room on Level Three. Moving Kane and Ariana in the middle of the day would be too difficult. Best they stay in place until it was time to leave.

She laid her hand on the doorknob, dismissing the crone before the old woman had a chance to peek inside to discover that Sophie did not have the decadent chambers to herself. Some of the women on Level Three could be trusted; others could not. Liane knew who would keep their mouths shut and who would not, but Sophie could not tell friend from foe in this place.

When the crone was gone, Sophie slipped inside the chamber and closed the door quickly. Kane stood before the window, soaking up the sun much as she had earlier in the day. The sight of him made her smile. He wore the blue tunic of a master-in-training, which was likely the only clothing available to him.

Sophie admired Kane for a moment; she had not realized how nice his legs were until this moment. She walked to the bassinet to look down on Ariana, but before she reached it Kane turned to face her, his expression grim.

“Liane took her,” he said softly. “Emperor Sebestyen has Ariana.”