My tired mind burned against the inside of my skull. Yet I continued staring at the dark forest and the crescent moon grinning at me spitefully. I gripped the cool balcony rail like an anchor as my thoughts pursued her in all directions. Where could she have gone? Was she safe? Was she lost? Could phoenixes lose their way like other kinds of birds cut off from their flock? Damn Esme--this was all her fault. If she hadn't touched me with her lust . . . but you enjoyed it, you know you did, and that's what upset Safire. Don't delude yourself. Don't blame Esme. This is your fault. I groaned and leaned my elbows on the rail so I could lower my face into the comforting warmth of my cupped hands, so that I could quit straining my eyes gazing into the night for answers that would likely never come.
"Merius?" came Father's voice, and I straightened, glancing behind me. He stood silhouetted in the doorway. "You've been out here for a long time."
"She still has me blocked." I shook my head. "I'm beginning to think something's happened to her."
"Like what?" He stepped out on to the balcony. "Weapons are no use against her, she can burn her way out of any confinement, other wild animals can't catch her, and all she has to do is sing to cause her enemies harm. What could have possibly befallen such an invulnerable creature?"
I had never told Father and Eden about Safire's inability to sense obsidian--I saw no need to burden them with yet another tidbit they would have to hide from Undene. So I said simply, "It's just that she's never blocked me like this before."
He shrugged. "Maybe she just wanted to fly free for awhile--she's a bird, after all. I'm certain she'll return. She'd never leave you or the children for long."
"Why else do you think I'm worried?"
"Merius, it's only been a few hours. Give her a little time. Now come back inside--Eden and I want your help drafting the revisions to the SerVerinese trade treaty."
After one last look at the forest shadows, hoping for a glimpse of distant flame over the tree tops but seeing only the silver of the moon and stars, I followed him to the library. Undene snored in the corner chair, her eyes closed for a change. Of course, Safire wasn't here to pry into her dreams, so the old witch apparently thought she could let down her guard.
"Even damn harpies need sleep apparently," Father muttered as he passed by Undene's nodding head. She sputtered and snorted, then settled back into an even pattern of breathing. I was grateful she didn't wake up--the last thing I needed right now was her cackling mockery.
Eden looked up from the foolscap before her, her eyes narrow. "Any word?" she asked.
"No." I slid onto the chair across from her.
"Merius, I'm sure she'll be back soon." Eden echoed Father, a reassuring litany of common sense. "She'd never leave the children overnight, especially with--" Eden inclined her head in Undene's direction. "--her here."
"That's what I keep telling myself. So what's the deal with this treaty?" I asked as I grabbed hungrily for an ink well, a quill, and some foolscap. Distraction, my new favorite comrade.
"Tetwar refused to sign it. He wants better trade terms," Father said, taking his seat.
"Naturally." I started doodling a hawk on the edge of the foolscap. "I'm certain all the nations we trade with want better terms, but better terms in this instance would mean us paying the SerVerinese to take our wheat."
"It's not about the terms for the wheat--Tetwar's savvy enough not to press his luck on that one. No, he wants cannon powder. And lots of it. Says he needs it to fight the pirates." Father tapped his penknife on the table.
I cocked an ear--hearing Undene's snoring assured me that she was still asleep. Besides, even if she eavesdropped, this would be a harmless tidbit for Rainier. Cormalen assisting the SerVerin Empire with cleaning up the pirates could only benefit Sarneth.
"Please tell me that Neils of Ghet and Peregrine's other lackeys at court haven't heard about this yet." I sketched in tufted eyebrows, a razor sharp beak, and a merciless glare that reminded me of Father in the council chamber.
"Not that we know of," Eden said.
"Good--you know as soon as this gets out, Peregrine will be watching our shores, just waiting to seize some cannon powder for himself. Ronceval Devons should be the merchant to ship it--he's the only one we can trust to keep his mouth shut and the only one with enough cannons on his galleons to win a sea battle if it came to that. Sometimes I think the man is a frustrated navy captain, with how well-armed his ships are."
"So you think we should send Tetwar what he wants, that he won't sell us out behind our backs?"
"He's an honorable man, Father." I added a wild crest with feathers going in all directions. Certainly Father's hair never looked like that, but maybe this hawk-Father had had a rough day.
"We trust your opinion of him, Merius, but what about the men under him? The SerVerin Empire is still reeling from freeing the slaves--that kind of chaos invites skullduggery and backstabbing." Eden raised herself up in her chair, trying to see what I was doing with the pen.
"I realize that, but unless we're willing to risk our own navy hunting down the last of the pirates, Tetwar's fleet is by far the superior option. Look at what his men have done so far." I flipped the foolscap around so she could see what I'd drawn. She hid her mouth behind her hand, a sure sign she was smiling and wanted to conceal it from Father. I smiled myself and pulled the foolscap back toward me and rested my arm on the hawk before Father saw it. "If you're worried about skullduggery and backstabbing, we can always mention sending Safire there to sing again if we hear of too much unrest. That should dissuade most of the potential evil-doers." If she comes back, we can do that I added silently. What if she never came back? In the silence that followed, I realized the steady background sawing of Undene's snores had stopped.
"You drove her away, didn't you, Quicksilver? You and Esme flirting." Undene's thin voice squealed as she lifted her head, like she had rusty hinges between the bones of her neck.
In an instant, I was on my feet and in front of her chair. "What the hell do you know about it?" I demanded, leaning down, my hands braced on the armrests. That old lady smell of vanity powder hung chokingly thick in the air all around as she crowed a laugh.
"Ah, Quicksilver, so excitable. I merely sensed your guilty conscience. Its foul stench assaulted my poor delicate nose, such a strong odor that it woke me up."
A retort was on the tip of my tongue, but I found my mouth suddenly frozen. The edges of my sight blurred to a gray haze as I focused on Undene. Then she shrank, the grayness closing in around her until she was a mere pinpoint and then gone completely. The gray became green below and blue above. The hawk had overtaken my humanity and in his predatory haste, swallowed it whole--my mind still produced the words of human thoughts, but my experience of the outer world came to me through the hawk's body. Even though I flew at great speed, my hawk eyes could pick out every individual leaf in the forest below. My hawk ears could hear the pitter-patter heart of a frightened rabbit crouched in the high grass at the edge of a clearing. I started to tilt my body, my wingspan listing to the right, so I could turn and then dive downwards to claim the rabbit . . . what was I doing? My human will fought with my hawk instinct--the temptation to hunt was as strong as the temptation to eat when I was starving and had a feast laid before me. Finally, my mind conjured up an image of Safire, which channeled the instinct in another direction. I had come here to find my mate, not hunt.
I heard what sounded like a flag whipping in a strong wind. I glanced over, expecting to see Safire. Instead, a black-haired, brown-skinned girl with the most frightened expression I'd ever encountered flew beside me. She was so terrified that her large eyes had no brown irises in them, only black pupils. I wanted to reach out and offer her my hand, tell her that I would protect her from whatever it was that had her so scared. Of course, maybe it was me. That was a novel thought--I forgot that I was in the guise of a giant hawk. And even if I appeared to her as a man somehow, she might still be scared. Her coloring indicated she was from the south, and they thought all us northerners were pale-eyed fiends who slaughtered ten newborn babes before breakfast. It didn't help that the only northern men most of them ever met were brigands like Peregrine.
Then I noticed the feather floating in front of her, the feather she apparently followed. Safire's feather. "What the hell?" I exclaimed. I started at the sound of my own voice. I could talk in this form? If I could think in words, maybe it shouldn't surprise me so much that I could speak them as well.
"Where did you get that feather?" I demanded. "Why are you following it?"
Her brows lowered, her eyes shrinking in apparent puzzlement. "I do not understand," she said in SerVerinese. She had a sweet, clear voice, pure as the ringing of a small silver bell.
I blinked. Of course, SerVerinese--I should have known. "Who are you?" I asked in the common dialect, stressing the accent to match hers as much as possible.
"Ghitana. Who are you?"
Then I slammed into an invisible barrier, and the world went black. Shiny black, with flashes of orange, like obsidian under torchlight. Obsidian, obsidian . . . "Obsidian," I heard myself say as if from a great distance.
"Merius!" Father sounded out of breath, as if he'd been the one flying instead of me--I never heard him out of breath, save after a lengthy bout on the practice floor. What was going on?
Someone shook me by the shoulders violently, the back of my head hitting something hard. "Oww--are you trying to knock me out?" I muttered, and the shaking stopped.
Cold, withered fingers touched my cheeks. "Get your claws off of him," Father snarled, and the fingers abruptly withdrew.
"I can help him, you know," Undene said, and I could hear the pout souring her voice.
"How exactly? By feeding off his vitality like a leech?" Eden demanded. "What? You think just because I'm not a witch, I haven't seen you? You'd suck both him and Safire dry if you could."
"I'd never hurt Quicksilver--he saved my life, what little is left of it. You misjudge me," Undene huffed. "And you're going about reviving him the wrong way. He collapsed like this in Sarneth the day after Safire transformed. It's because of the mind bond. Touch his cheeks and forehead like you would if he had a fever."
The back of Eden's smooth hand pressed against my forehead--I could feel the Landers insignia of her seal ring, the large square topaz of the ring Father had bought for her a few months ago. My eyelids felt made of marble, but I finally managed to lift them.
In contrast to the acuity of my hawk sight, the chamber swirled around my head in a blur, and I blinked several times before things settled into their proper places. Eden and Father hovered over me, the lines of their faces so vague that I would have thought they were the dream vision and the SerVerinese girl Ghitana was the reality if I hadn't known better. Of course, dreams and reality had long since lost their clear-cut distinctions in my mind--close connection with Safire could do that to someone.
"Merius, speak, for God's sake. And make sense while you're at it." Father looked on the verge of grabbing my shoulders to shake me again, something I wanted to avoid at all costs.
"I'm fine." Gingerly I sat up. The book shelves appeared to bend in the middle, warped in an instant as they threatened to buckle. I rubbed my temple, my head and fingers feeling like they belonged to someone else. The shelves suddenly straightened and returned to their normal positions, except now it seemed that I viewed them from a great distance, the length of an archery range at least. If I could just feel settled in my own body again, perhaps everything would stop seeming so far away. Father and Eden rose, towering over me.
I pivoted my stranger's head around to regard Undene. "Who did you tell about the obsidian?" I asked, my stranger's voice unnaturally calm as it asked a question that hadn't consciously occurred to me to ask at all.
The blood vessels pulsed in her eyes, making them appear to flare red. "Rainier knows, but I didn't tell him. That young guard, the one who escorted me that day--he must have told Rainier. Either that, or the little spider crept across something in one of his books." It was telling that Undene immediately understood what I meant by obsidian. My suspicion that she had guessed Safire's weakness in Sarneth had just been confirmed.
"So Rainier has her?"
She spread out her hands as much as her rheumatism would allow her, palms upward in a pleading gesture. "I don't know, Quicksilver. You think he tells me all of his plots?"
"Where is she?"
"You would know more about that than I, seeing as you're the one who apparently just had a vision about her."
"It wasn't about her exactly." I kept my tone neutral to give away as little as possible.
"Who were you talking to, then? You spoke SerVerinese."
"I don't know. Do you have any Ursula's Bane?"
She sighed and slumped back in her chair, drumming her fingertips on the armrests. "That could be dangerous, Quicksilver."
"I didn't ask you that. I asked you if you had some."
"Of course not--do you know how much Ursula's Bane costs?"
"All right. Then do you know where to get some?"
"Merius, why do you want that damnable stuff?" Father crossed his arms and glowered down at me. I scrambled up to put us on equal footing again.
"Father, you spoke wrongly before. Safire has one vulnerability: obsidian. If someone did," I faltered, "something to her . . . well, they might have used obsidian to block the bond between us." I braced my hand against my forehead in an attempt to keep the room from revolving.
"Obsidian? You've never mentioned that." Eden sank down on Father's chair, which he had apparently vacated in a hurry when I collapsed as it was slung against the wall at a sharp angle to the table. Poor Father--all he had ever wanted was a cool-headed, dutiful son to carry on his legacy, and instead, he had gotten me. "So how is she vulnerable to it?" Eden continued.
"She doesn't seem able to sense it at all, and I imagine her abilities might not work if she were surrounded by it. So," here I looked at Undene as I began to pace, "where can I get Ursula's Bane? Esme's bodyguards?"
"Esme has some, I think." Undene coughed, as if telling the truth choked her. "But Quicksilver, I don’t know if it'll work like you think it will."
I barked a laugh. "You old fraud, you think I'm not wise to your tricks? Your false caution tells me it will work exactly like I think it will."
"And how's that, Merius?" Eden asked softly.
"A small dose of the Ursula's Bane may grant me visions like the one I just had, perhaps provide more clues to Safire's whereabouts. Or it could just give me terrible nightmares. It's a slight risk, one I'm certainly willing to take." I cracked my knuckles as I circled the table.
"Over my dead body, you're using that stuff--I forbid it." Father grabbed my arm and wrenched me around. We exchanged glares. "Do you hear me, Merius?"
"How could I not?" I yanked my arm from his grip. "Father, it's hardly perilous, not if I inhale a small dose in the safety of my chamber here. It's the only chance I have of helping Safire."
"You don't even know that anything's happened to her. She flew off this afternoon in one of her fits of pique, and who could blame her if she still has you blocked? For all you know, pursuing her like this may only drive her further away." He drew breath with a jerk of his shoulders, clasping his hand around the back of his neck as he stared at the ceiling. Then he met my gaze again. "The woman you married is gone forever, and it's about damned time you grieved her and let her spirit fly free the way it was meant to."
"What is this?" I threw my hands in the air. "God damn it, Father, what is this? You were there that day on the parapet--you saw me turn into a weirhawk, a year and a half before the bishop came for Safire. You talk like her becoming a phoenix was something unique to her, that she and I didn't share it. But she and I have been flying as birds together in our minds since practically the day we met. I didn't understand what those mutual visions portended until she turned into the phoenix. But just because my rational mind was blind to the implications doesn't mean that our souls were blind. I've always been just as much a hawk as she is a phoenix, and she's still just as much a woman as I am a man. Our souls knew what we were to each other the day we pledged our love, and nothing has changed that. Nothing." I paused and gulped air. "And I know something terrible has happened to her, and I'm going to save her whether you believe me or not. Though I sure would like your help."
Motionless, his face shuttered, he gazed down at the floor for an interminable moment. Finally, he looked up, then nodded as if satisfied about something he saw in my expression. "All right--what can I do?"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Dominic's eyes popped open as I leaned over his small bed. "Where's Mama?" he asked, his mouth set in that straight line that reminded me of Father. He looked as if he suspected that I had spirited her away somehow. "You not silver anymore, Papa."
I sighed and knelt on the floor beside his headboard so that we were almost eye level. "Is that so?"
He nodded solemnly, rubbing his cheek against the pillow as he gazed at me. "You gray like Grandpapa."
"That's because Mama's away. When she comes back, I'll be silver again."
"Where Mama go?"
"To visit the mermaids."
Sewell and Evi had accepted this, though Sewell had been sad that he wasn't old enough to go with Mama and Evi had demanded a baby mermaid all her own. However, Dominic's brow crinkled--I had saved saying good night to him until last because I knew he would be the most trouble.
"Why?" he demanded.
"So she can learn new songs from them to sing to you when she comes back."
"Songses?" The furrows in his brow deepened to canyons, his face reddening. "No new songses!" he spat, as if it was the worst lie he'd ever heard. "I want Mama. Now." His voice grew strident--he knew something rotten was afoot.
"Shh, not so loud." I smoothed his hair from his forehead and glanced at the others. Sewell snorted and turned over, his eyes still closed, and Evi muttered something that sounded like "mermai" before she subsided. Avreal had her head tucked under one arm, her other arm flung around the pink bunny Dagmar had knitted for her, her little back rising and falling in a steady rhythm--being admired and petted at court had worn her out. Usually she was the most difficult one to get to sleep. I looked back at Dominic to find him frowning at me, his steely-eyed glower remarkably similar to Father's expression earlier. Even though he was only three and a half, lying to him was almost as tricky as lying to Father, especially since Dominic could sense auras. I groaned to myself. Safire knew best how to deal with this changeling child, knew best how to soothe him. But Safire wasn't here. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to nip any fears about how she might never be here again before Dominic could spot anything else odd about my aura.
"Papa, you get Mama . . ."
"I'll get her, Dominic." I met his wide-eyed gaze, finding the resolve I needed there. Of course I would rescue her--how could I not? If I returned without her, I could never face the children again. Was that why God had seemingly abandoned us, had not yet come to dwell among us as he had promised ages ago? Perhaps he feared facing his children, as any loving father would after seeing their bright innocent trust slowly tarnish in the bitter air of his imperfect creation.
"I'll get her back," I repeated.
He squinted his eyes, apparently watching my aura. "Now?" he asked, his voice less certain.
"No, not now. It might take me a few days, maybe even a week."
"Dazes?" He drew the word out slowly, as if in awe. I forgot sometimes how long a few days could seem to a child his age.
"Maybe. Mama will be back sooner if you go to sleep."
"Why?"
"Because time passes more quickly in dreamland. I can't sing like Mama, but I can tell you a story. You want to hear a story?" When he nodded, I continued, "Once upon a time there was a king and queen who had three children, two sons and a daughter. The eldest son liked to draw pictures and make things, the second son was very brave and hunted evil trolls, and the daughter could fly. An evil troll, jealous of the queen's goodness and beauty, had cursed both her and her daughter to be birds. In his glee, the troll forgot that curses which are too powerful often rebound on those who cast them, for he made the queen a firebird, which meant she could never be human again but also meant she had special powers. Firebirds can sing the stars into the sky at night, speak without words, and control fire. So to protect her family from further curses, the queen used fire to kill the troll, and he was no more. Then the king and queen vowed to break the curse on their daughter, who was not a firebird but a hawk, and so could be human again. They tried many things to make her human--they took their small daughter and sailed around the world to strange lands where the people walk on their hands and fight with bent swords, they visited the mermaids, and they even braved the caves of the troll king to learn his secrets for breaking curses . . ."
Dominic looked pensive at this last. "Queen kill troll king?"
"No."
"Why not?" His small mouth blossomed in a yawn.
"The troll king had not harmed them." Yet I added to myself. "You should never attack anyone, even a troll, unless you must to protect an innocent."
"Oh." He turned his head and gazed up at the ceiling as if he saw a vision there, the way he often did when Safire sang to the children. It reminded me of how Eden's cat sometimes stared at the same spot on the wall for hours--nothing discernible there for mere mortals, but cats and changelings could see beyond the veil.
I rumpled his hair. "Now while the king and queen were in the troll caves, they discovered that the curse on their daughter could be broken but it would require the king to risk his life. He would have to build wings for himself and fly out over the sea with his daughter . . ." I trailed off. Dominic's face slackened, and he had begun to blink, long, slow blinks that told me he would soon drift off. I continued, my voice the barest whisper, "So the king took the wings he made and went out to the sea cliffs at dawn. He strapped on the wings and crouched at the edge of the cliff with his daughter, the sea before them like a blushing mirror. When the wind was right, they took off together and flew out over the water . . ."
He was asleep. I gently patted him on the head, then slowly rose to my feet. I glanced over all the children one last time. The warm glow of the single candle in the nightlight on the mantel cast star-shaped patterns over their blankets, picked out the red and gold strands in their hair--Elsa would blow it out before she went to bed. "Good-bye," I whispered. "I'll be back as soon as I can, my dear ones."
Father was lurking out in the hall when I emerged. "That took long enough," he grumbled.
"Dominic didn't want to go back to sleep--he knew something was wrong. Where's Undene?"
"Eden's watching her in the library."
"Good. I'll take her with me when I go to the palace. It'll give you and Eden a respite." I started down the hall toward the library.
His fierce whisper stopped me mid-step. "Merius, you shouldn't be alone with that lying sneak, not after what happened earlier. I'll go with you."
I swung back around to face him, using the same muscles in my legs and back that I relied on during our swordplay. "I agree about not going alone. I'll take Jared."
Father frowned. "You might as well take a scarecrow--what if you're ambushed? Jared's a good sort, but he's hopeless with a blade."
"I'm a lot less worried about me getting ambushed than I am about the children. Listen, Father--if Rainier set this up, you can almost be certain he did it so that he could more easily kidnap Dominic and Avreal. I need you and Randel and every other trained man-at-arms here--even Boltan should keep his pitchfork close at hand."
Father absorbed this, his expression stolid as he pondered it. Finally, he said, "All right. But I don't like it. And I especially don't like involving Esme--she's a sly puss if I ever saw one. She may look like her mother, which is bad enough, but she has her father's eyes, and that's even worse. I noticed it today when she was nattering over Avreal."
"I can't say that I like it either, but who else do you know hereabouts who might have Ursula's Bane on hand? Besides, Eden said that Esme is not as loyal to her father as public appearances would indicate, that she even offered to help us against him at one point. And she has a hankering for me that I might be able to play on a bit and find out if she knows anything about Rainier's plots. I doubt she'd betray him to us directly, but she might unwittingly give something away if I ask the right questions interspersed with some flirting."
"She may at that." He scratched the back of his head. "Damn it, Merius, this is a mare's nest if I ever encountered one."
"I know."
"Now your plan after you obtain the Ursula's Bane is to return here to use it, right?"
"I'd be a damned fool to use it anywhere else."
"That you would. And you're sure it's the only way we can help Safire?"
I shook my head. "I can't think of anything else that triggers visions like that stuff does, can you?"
"No, I can't. We need her back." He swallowed. "I hate to think of what might have happened to her, who might have taken her. She's always been such a sweet-tempered, freedom-loving creature, the only innocent assassin in history. I hate to think of what will happen to Cormalen if a man like Neils of Ghet finds out she's gone."
"I'll get her back long before then." I clapped him on the shoulder. "Now watch the children, and I'll be back soon."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
While we waited in the great hall for Esme's footman to inform her of our arrival at the palace, I caught Jared watching me over the elaborate age-yellowed coils of Undene's hair. When he realized he had my attention, he flicked his eyes down to her, then glanced back up at me again, a silent question arching his brows. Then he lifted his hand and pointed at her, then at himself, then with scissor fingers, pantomimed walking toward the archway leading to the shadowed lower hall, which was practically deserted this time of evening.
"Whatever is going on over my head?" Undene's voice was querulous. "Feels like bugs circling to land." She raised one claw and started swatting the air. Her blindness-honed senses of touch and hearing and smell still amazed me sometimes. Here we were in the crowded great hall, swarming with chattering people going to and fro between the front steps and the ballroom, and she could still sense someone else's slight movements.
"Why, my lady, I was just signaling to Sir Merius that perhaps I should escort you to somewhere more comfortable. A place to sit down perhaps?" Jared said gallantly.
"You're a nice boy." She patted his arm. "Perhaps--we've been standing here a few minutes at most, yet it already feels like years to my old bones."
"And it may be awhile. I apologize, my lady--I should've thought of that myself." I winked at Jared--we had discussed this earlier before we left the house. Undene was a loose cannon ball, and I certainly didn't want her barreling around during my potentially tricky negotiations with Esme. This plan got her out of the way with little fuss before the footman came back. And before anyone who knew me--like Cyril--noticed us and started asking too many questions. "I'm just so preoccupied, I forgot my good manners," I continued.
"I forgive you, Quicksilver. You've already had a long night, and it's only just beginning," she said with a enigmatic little chortle. I shook myself--I had been trying not to let her little digs and riddles get under my skin. Most of what she said was nothing more than cobwebs complicating the air, impossible to untangle--and pointless, as they could be blown away into meaningless dust with one good gust of reason.
I watched as Jared led her to the lower hall. It was true that he was no good with a blade, but I still wouldn't trade him for a hundred men-at-arms. Father rated skill with weapons as practically sacrosanct, understandable given his background and the times we lived in. And Jared was skilled with some weapons, just not swords--he could hit a deer in the heart with an arrow at a hundred paces. That wasn't a rare skill--every village had good archers. However, those other archers likely couldn't make their own bows and arrows from scratch and have them fly true by design. Jared could. What he lacked as a steward and guard, he more than made up for with a surfeit of brains.
"Sir Landers?" The footman stood before me. "Her Majesty will meet you in her chambers now."
"Thank you." I tipped him a silver, then swiftly headed for the staircase. He made it sound like she would be alone. The last time I had been alone with Esme was in Sarneth when her mother had me locked away. She had propositioned me then. I wondered, a brittle film of ice encasing my loins, what she would do this time. Of course, that had been a long time ago, before she had become betrothed to King Segar. We had both matured since then. And I was no powerless, foreign prisoner now but one of the highest-ranking noblemen in her husband's court and the deadly phoenix's chosen mate, not someone a wise queen pursued no matter how much she might lust after him. I reached under the edge of my vest and fumbled for the inner pocket where I had tucked a plaited lock of Safire's hair, my talisman. The silken strands burned under my fingers, a circle of fire over my heart.
The guards beside the archway leading to the royal family's private chambers inclined their heads slightly and let me pass without comment, both of them men Father and I had trained. It heartened me to see their familiar faces, a reminder that I was safe here . . . safe here? What? That made it sound like I was worried, and I wasn't. I would be a nitwit to be worried. What was the worst that could happen here? Esme's flirting? What I should be worried about was what would happen after I was done with her. This was but the pleasant prelude to the most perilous quest I had ever undertaken, and what scared me most at this moment was a beautiful woman who found me attractive? I truly had turned into the ass Father had so often called me.
The guard outside her door knocked, then turned the latch for me at the muffled summons from within. A cloud of marapolos perfume swept me into the sumptuous blues and greens of her receiving chamber, a warm, tropical sea of candlelight.
"Merius," she purred, sauntering forward, and I was shocked at her informal gown--a creamy, gauzy thing that hugged her curves and showed off the dusky beauty of her skin and eyes and hair.
"Your Majesty." I bowed, more in a pitiful attempt to keep the customary royal distance than because it was protocol. My mouth had suddenly gone dry, and I swallowed rapidly as I dared to raise my face again, my eyes unable to stop tracing the long line of her slender neck, her cleavage, the tapering of her waist like the stem of an upside down flower before her body blossomed in the rounded glory of feminine hips and buttocks. Oh hell, why hadn't I sent Eden instead? It hadn't even occurred to me before. That would have been the wise thing to do, but it was too late now. I was in Esme's lair.
Before I could touch Safire's hair in my pocket and draw on its strength again, Esme grabbed my hands and pulled me forward. Her skin was so soft that I wanted to groan, another barrier breached before I'd even had a chance to make my request.
"Come, Merius, sit. Would you like something to drink?"
"I don't want to intrude . . ." I remained standing as long as I could, but when she sank on to a low divan, her hands still clasped around mine, I was forced to follow. "Really, Your Majesty, this shouldn't take long. It seems I interrupted you in the middle of getting ready for bed, for which I humbly beg your pardon. I'll make this quick." Finally I was able to extricate my sweaty palms from her fingers, and I shifted to the far end of the divan, the armrest digging into my back.
"I certainly hope not too quick." She favored me with a smile as she leaned over and picked up a goblet from the table, her trailing sleeve brushing my knee.
Gulping air into my suddenly too small lungs, I clasped my hands together tightly and stared down at brassy glow of my seal ring, made myself feel its heavy weight on my finger, before I looked up and met her gaze. "My request is simply this--do you have any Ursula's Bane?"
"Ursula's Bane? Whatever would you want that for, Merius?"
I kept my eyes locked with hers as I spoke. "It's for Avreal--Lord Rankin thinks that tiny doses apportioned out over a year or so will help her adjust to being human, perhaps even help her learn speech more easily."
"Why the late night visit? You could have asked me earlier today." She sipped her wine, her eyes wide as a child's over the edge of the goblet.
"Ursula's Bane is hardly a topic I would mention in front of your gossipy ladies-in-waiting, one of the best kept secrets of the Sarneth court. Besides, it only just occurred to me after seeing you today that you might have some. I've been racking my brain trying to think of someone other than King Rainier who might have it . . ."
"Why don't you want to ask my father? I'm certain he would be more than glad to give you some--he takes such a," she paused, her eyes sparkling, "scholarly interest in your family."
"Please forgive the insult to your father, but I wanted to ask someone whom I trust."
She stared at me for a moment before her laugh undulated through the chamber, a sinuous warmth of sound that surrounded me. "Oh Merius, what a charming liar you can be when you're desperate, so much more accomplished and debonair than you were four years ago when I chased you around the bed in Sarneth. Though that certainly had its moments." Her gaze lingered on my lips, then moved lower. "I would give anything to believe you, you know."
"What makes you say that I'm so desperate I'd lie to my queen? I take umbrage at that. I came here in good faith seeking help for my daughter, and you laugh at me . . ." I sprang to my feet and began to pace, careening around all the small tables and bric-a-brac--she had many lovely sculptures. A collector then, like her mother had been. A cold hand fisted around my heart at the reminder of Jazmene.
"I didn't give you leave to rise." Her purr held the promise of a roar.
"To hell with your permission. I'm a free man, and I'll leave when I please." I started for the door. I would find the Ursula's Bane elsewhere--this back and forth between guilty lust and her disconcerting manner, so like Jazmene's, was beginning to make me feel vaguely seasick.
"Merius, please, I'm sorry. Don't leave," she pleaded. Her voice had softened, lost that mocking edge. "I know you lied about why you need the Ursula's Bane. Undene told me."
I halted, then slowly pivoted around on one heel. She watched me over the back of the divan, her eyes limpid. "What did she tell you?" I barked.
Esme drooped at my harsh tone, her shoulders hunching as she glanced away from me, her chin dropping as she stared at her lap. "She said Safire had been captured, though I don't understand. I didn't think Safire could be caged . . ."
I ignored this prod for more information, striding forward until I was at most a foot from the divan. "When did she tell you this? And how?"
"Right before tea, in my mirror."
"Before tea--that would have been what? Around five o'clock?"
Esme nodded. "I think so," she whispered.
"Damn her, I'll wring that old witch's neck--she's known about this all along. At five o'clock, I still thought Safire was out flying. I had no idea . . ." I turned back toward the door, then faltered, my mind a terrifying blank. I didn't know what to do next. It had been confirmed--my love was at some evildoer's mercy for God knew what nefarious purpose. And despite my almost constant supervision of her, Undene had still managed to secretly betray us. Obviously, I needed to question her, but how? How would I ever get that slippery eel of an old liar to tell the truth and how would I know what was the truth without Safire to help me discern it? I groaned, fisting my hands in my hair before I turned back to face Esme.
"Are you saying Undene plotted with Safire's captors, that's how she knew?" Esme's mouth fell open.
"That's the only way she could have known. Why did she tell you anyway?"
Esme floated to her feet with a breathtaking grace. She crossed her arms as she came around the edge of the divan toward me, her face troubled. "I don't know. I didn't know what to think at the time--I didn't know there was any way to cage Safire. I thought it was one of Undene's inscrutable jokes until you showed up tonight looking for Ursula's Bane . . ."
"You thought it was a joke?" I demanded.
Esme gave an elegant little shrug. "Of course, or I would have told Segar immediately that something had happened to Safire--that's a threat to Cormalen's security, you know, if she's gone missing. Undene said something about how one of Safire's most ardent admirers had made off with her, that he wanted her for his little canary in a cage, and wouldn't I be pleased. I thought it was her way of taunting me for flirting with you earlier--she knew that Safire had bitten me and why--not surprising really. You know how she is--she always guesses the truth about things like that, and she didn't believe my silly story about the thorns . . ."
"Ardent admirer? Canary in a cage? Are you certain those are the words she used?" I ran my hands over my jaw, my fingertips meeting in a tent over my mouth as I stared at her.
"Fairly certain. Merius, what is it? You look like you heard a ghost . . ."
My hands clutched in fists, remembering how I had hit Peregrine in the crossroads tavern so long ago for what he said about Safire, about how he'd like to lock her away, how he'd like to "train" her to be obedient . . . that son of a bitch. Suddenly I found myself at the door, lifting my hand to the latch.
Esme gripped my shoulder from behind. "Where are you going?"
I paused, half-turned to look at her. "I have to talk to Undene. Now. Thank you for your help, Your Majesty." My voice wasn't my own, my words wooden, abrupt, the clacking sound I imagined a marionette would make with its nutcracker mouth.
"Is Undene here in the palace?" Esme demanded.
"Waiting with my steward in the lower hall."
"Perhaps I can help you with her." Esme's eyes narrowed to thoughtful slits.
"How?"
"By arresting her. We have clear evidence she's involved in some plot to capture Safire--that makes her a traitor. And imprisoning her may get her to talk . . ."
"She talks all the time, Your Majesty." At least the wry tone made me sound like myself again. Now if I could just thaw the rest of me, still trapped in the ice of shock and numb horror at the idea of Safire in Peregrine's clutches . . .
"That she does." A slight smile puckered Esme's lips. "Arresting her, though, may scare her and make her talk at the right time. And perhaps even say something useful in the bargain."
"Good point. I'll go down and keep her in the hallway until the guards . . ."
Esme shook her head, her loosened hair a black satin curtain rippling over her shoulders. "No, she may sense something from your aura."
"And do what? Run?"
"She might be slow, but she's tricky, Merius. Best to send the guards down there first--you can talk to her after she's in shackles."
"But Jared . . . he doesn't know the plan. He might try to protect her from them. I should go with them so I can explain it to him if there's any trouble--I can stay behind the guards so their presence blocks me from Jared's sight and my aura from Undene until it's too late for any of her tricks."
Esme nodded, and I turned back to the door. "Wait, before you leave, don't you want the Ursula's Bane?"
My fingers hovered over the latch. "I'll come back for it."
"You haven't even let me name my price."
I let go of the latch and turned to face her before I rattled the coins in my pocket. Perhaps I should get it from her now so that I didn't have to come back here and brave the lair a second time. "I brought plenty of gold, Your Majesty, I assure you. I know that stuff isn't cheap."
"You brought coin?" Her lips parted in an indulgent smile, the kind of smile Eden bestowed when the children did something particularly clever. "You thought I would want coin?"
I raised my brows, faint irritation at that smug smile of hers melting a little more of the shock inside. "The coin of the realm is usually what people want when they're selling something, Your Majesty."
"Of course, but I'm the queen. I don't need coin. I don't want coin. I want you." Her voice was a throaty purr again as she stepped closer, her perfume wrapping itself around me.
"For what? A tumble?" My stupid mouth hung open, and I faltered. I should have seen this one coming, I supposed, but really? She was the queen, the wife of my sovereign, for God's sake. At least when she had propositioned me before, she had been an unmarried foreign princess. Now she was my queen--tumbling her would be tantamount to treason. "Your Majesty, I'm flattered--you're a beautiful woman, but, but . . ."
"But what?" She stroked my shoulder, kneaded my tense muscles with the perfect blend of gentle and firm. I couldn't help a little groan--it had been so long since a woman had touched me like this, with such sweet lascivious intent.
"But . . . well, I expect adultery takes a little time, Your Majesty, if it's to be done right. I think we should arrest Undene first," I said dryly.
She picked at the buttons of my vest, her eyes downcast. "You're just trying to escape again--I know your wit, how you use it. I'll content myself with a kiss--for now. Consider it you sealing your bond to return for more."
Relieved I was being released from her hook with so little fuss and a pleasant, not-quite-adulterous diversion, I leaned down and pressed my mouth lightly to hers. She sighed and her lips parted, her taste of oranges across my tongue as I relished her silken softness. God, I missed this, the gentle yielding of a woman in my arms, the quickening of her breath as I pleased her . . . Safire.
The sting under my ear puzzled me for an instant. Wasps didn't fly at night, did they? Then dim memory of being held down in Sarneth, the poisoned dart in my neck . . . I broke off the kiss and stumbled back against the wall, pushing her away. She stepped back, the palm of her hand against her mouth, the icy shimmer of the thin needle between her fingers. Nimble fingers . . . I staggered toward the door, but it was too late. The trickle of blood tickled the side of my neck as my knees locked and I fell.
I tried to yell, but my words were sluggish in my throat, and came out in a rough whisper. "Damn you, damn you . . . she needs me more now than she's ever needed me, and you do this . . . why, for God's sake?"
Esme stood at my feet, which already felt disconnected from me, some stranger's feet in the rapidly receding past as I floated away on a cloud of Ursula's Bane. I blinked hard in an effort to keep my wits as long as possible--I needed to remember this, what she had said, what she had done. Her stricken face followed me, and I imagined this was how it would feel to be a kite when the string broke, drifting away free on the wind as a child watched from below, angry and disappointed her toy had escaped.
She hovered over me suddenly, her fingers the breeze that caressed my hair, and I realized, my whole body numb now, that the child had somehow recaptured her toy and would likely never let him fly free again if she could help it, even though that was what he had been designed to do. Children could be unreasonable that way, especially spoilt children like this one . . .
"Believe me, if there was any other way," flowed her voice like warm honey in my ear. "But we can't let you risk yourself confronting Peregrine, even in your hawk form." So she knew about the weirhawk and Peregrine too, likely some more little tidbits Undene had dropped during their mirror chat. She had manipulated me so well with that, revealing just enough to keep me from leaving but not enough to implicate herself before she could dose me with the Ursula's Bane . . .
"Saf-i-ire . . ." My voice was a sound carried on the wind from a far place.
"Oh Merius, I'm sorry. We didn't want to resort to this, but you're so strong-willed, and the mind bond makes you impervious to reason when it comes to her." Her voice had a tinny, vaguely sneering quality when she spoke of the mind bond, as if that were the only reason I would have picked Safire over her. "Shh, just let go--it'll be easier for you, and it's inevitable anyway, considering the dose I gave you." Her lips touched my eyelids, then my jaw, her hand squeezing my shoulder, the muscles in my upper arm, her fingers sliding between my vest and my shirt, prodding my chest and abdomen. "Mmm," she murmured, appreciative as a cook eyeing a particularly fine cut of meat. Good God. I growled, a faint vibration in my throat, the only sound of protest left to me, so faint I wondered if she even heard it.
She must have, for her fingers paused over my navel, and she shushed me again. "Just be still and let me touch you--there's nothing you can do about it, no point in fighting it, and it has to feel good. It's been a long time, hasn't it, since a woman touched you like this? Since Safire, I suppose. You poor man, such a faithful husband. You haven't even taken a mistress, or so my spies tell me. Not one man in a hundred would be so loyal. It must be so hard for you--you weren't made to be a monk. I can't even imagine. Wait, I can--all too well." Her laugh hit a flat, bitter-sounding note. "Well, never mind that now. Think of Safire. After all, you did want to take the Ursula's Bane to help her . . . maybe if you let go, you'll have a vision, something that will guide you to her."
But what good would that do, if Esme had me locked away somewhere when I awoke from this fit? I could have all the visions I wanted, but if I couldn't act on them in any meaningful way, what was the point? She didn't explain, of course, as she loosened my belt, the clinking of the buckle quiet as sleet striking a distant window. Her hand slithered under the waistband of my pants, slid over my bare skin, and it felt so faraway. My soul bounced lightly against the ceiling like a captive hot-air balloon, outside of my body altogether as I observed her.
"Nice," she whispered, her hair draping over the other Merius's neck as her lips brushed his ear. "So nice to touch a real man for a change. With how much I gave you, you should be limp and lifeless as a boned fish, but instead . . . I bet a half dose next time will be just right. Undene will know . . ."
That was the last thing I heard her say before my soul squeezed up through the chimney and flew out into the night after Safire, a dusting of soot falling from my wings as I shed the shadows of Esme's lair on the ground far below . . .
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The first thing I noticed in the thick blackness around me was the sweet, spicy smoke of burning cedar. It overpowered any other aroma which might have given me a clue where I was. The only thing I was sure of was that Safire had to be close by, even if I couldn't see her yet. My other senses soon caught up to my sense of smell. I heard the slosh of waves and boards creaking like a house settling for the night, then felt the solid surface rocking under me and knew I was on a ship. Peregrine's ship.
I sat up at the thought of Peregrine. I'd carry him out to sea and bash him to death on a rock. Or perhaps my talons were long enough to carve his heart out--slowly . . . I looked down and realized I had no talons. I had no body. How was I sensing anything without a body? How was I seeing anything without a source of light? I glanced around wildly.
The glow of Safire's plumage stirred like flames flickering to life from smoldering embers as she lifted her head from under her wing. I was beside her in an instant, surrounding her with my not-body, a silvery shimmer of pure spirit. She chirped softly and arched upwards, rubbing her warmth against my soul with a crackle of silver and purple sparks. I felt her flying through the forest at home in the slanting afternoon light earlier today, the aching weight of her sadness . . . even her feathers drooped heavy with it.
*Why so sad, freckle dove? I had been expecting anger, not melancholy.
The palace courtyard scene this afternoon ran through my mind from Safire's perspective, Esme's hungry look as she touched me, her sparkling midnight blue aura snaking around me, the flare of my aura as I responded. Then Esme suddenly shifted into a very human Safire . . .
*You wanted to touch me like Esme did, and you can't anymore?
She nodded. Oh God, what I wouldn't give for a body right now so I could at least kiss her crest or cheek, run my fingers over her wings . . . my poor freckle dove. More images and emotions followed, a black-haired, red-faced babe yelling in a basket on the forest floor--the wretched mite had apparently been abandoned to die of exposure. Safire swooped down to investigate, only to have the woods vanish with a hiss of ropes around her. All she could sense suddenly was herself and the babe. The only source of light she could see was the glow from her own feathers. Otherwise, utter darkness surrounded them.
Then an arm appeared in the blackness, fingers straining toward the basket. The aura around the arm was a beautiful deep magenta, thousands of purple and pink lines like tiny threads of smoke twining together. The babe's aura, a similar marriage of gold and pink, suddenly bloomed like a flower when the magenta aura came near, and I knew then, without having to be told, that the arm belonged to the mother of the babe.
Safire pushed the basket toward the arm so that the mother could touch her child. Then a man's finger poked through the blackness above, and the scent of ambergris cologne filled the air.
*Peregrine? I guessed as Safire reared back in the vision, spitting, and then bit the finger. The flesh glowed red, then white, then abruptly vanished. *Damn--bet he won't try to touch you again. I should have killed the bastard years ago.
The vision shifted to another finger, this one graced with a large sapphire ring and an aura hard as diamond. A quick flash of Queen Jazmene as the guards dragged her from her palace receiving chamber in Sarneth, her lovely features contorted into a harpy's face as she screeched Rainier's name in a paroxysm of rage. I shuddered at her resemblance to Esme, so close she could be Esme's twin in twenty years, then quickly distracted myself with trying to figure out what all this meant.
*Jazmene's here? What? But she's still on her rock . . . Unless Peregrine took her, and Rainier's been covering it up? But why would he cover it up? He doesn't want her free. Why wouldn't he enlist the SerVerin Empire and Cormalen to help retrieve her? Unless he and Undene are using her somehow, perhaps to spy on Peregrine. At least Jazmene being here explains how Undene so easily betrayed us to Peregrine. So if Rainier wants to get his stubby fingers on you and not get singed in the process, who better to dupe than his former queen and a fearless, obsessed pirate with enough coin to redecorate his ship so that it can contain a volcano and enough experience with Cormalen to pull off a smooth capture . . . My mind raced through the possibilities, trying to connect what Esme had just done to me with my jumble of revelations.
Safire squawked, a harsh sound that sent sharp echoes through the hold, and I realized she had sensed my thoughts about Esme. I almost touched the wound still stinging my neck before I remembered I didn't have a neck in this form. What an odd state to be in . . . I wondered suddenly what Rankin would think of it. Safire chittered loudly and snapped her beak at me, trying to keep my attention on the crisis at hand. My mind had suddenly wandered when I began to remember Esme--far easier to speculate about non-corporeal experiences than to think about what might be happening to my body right now. A chill like a wintery gray rain prickled through my spirit as I remembered her touch--that hungry wench could be carving me into delectable, bite-sized pieces at this very moment, and I had no power to fight back, not even to push her away . . . but damn it, this was ridiculous. I was a trained warrior, and she was a woman--surely there was some way I could have stopped her. If I'd just paid better heed. If I'd left when I first became suspicious . . . Safire's chittering became frantic as more and more images leaked from my mind to hers. I had to stop the barrage--this was upsetting her too much, and she was already in a bad situation here, a situation from which I wasn't sure yet how I could rescue her.
I wrapped myself around her as best I could in this state, realizing that even though I meant to offer comfort, I needed to feel close to her just as much. *I know, love. Wish now I hadn't yelled at you for biting Esme. Wish now I'd told you to burn her arm off instead of just nicking her.
Safire's agitation caused a stir of color not far from us, and it dawned on me we weren't alone. A slight form rolled over and emerged from the darkness--the girl Ghitana from my vision earlier. I also discovered as I observed her through Safire's eyes that she was the possessor of the magenta aura, the mother of the babe who began to wail then. She scuttled to a nearby basket--why hadn't I noticed it before?--and plucked out her child, rocking it and whispering to it in SerVerinese. Had Peregrine locked them down here with Safire? Why? So many whys--I was starting to sound like Dominic.
"What is wrong?" Ghitana asked as she cast large, sloe-colored eyes in Safire's direction. She unlaced her bodice with one hand and began to nurse her babe, completely unselfconscious. I might as well not even be here.
Safire twittered, and the girl's eyes grew enormous. "He is?" she hissed. "Where?" She hunkered down as if struck and dragged the edge of her frock up, trying to cover herself and her babe as best she could.
*Good God, she's a modest little thing, isn't she? Terrified too. Tell her it's all right. Tell her I would never hurt her, and even if I wanted to, I couldn't in this form . . .
Safire's twitter lowered, ending in the minor key of a sad note. Peregrine strode across her mind, dragging Ghitana behind him. *You mean, this is his concubine, his babe? He used his own child as bait to catch you?
Her head dipped in acknowledgment. *Poor girl, trapped here with Peregrine, Jazmene, and a bunch of pirates--no wonder she's terrified. She must be made of tough stuff to have survived even. Tell her we'll help her, that I'll do whatever I can as soon I can get free.
Safire nudged Ghitana's shoulder, and the glimmer of tears polished the mahogany of her cheeks. "Thank you." She gathered the tears on her fingertips like dew and regarded them with frank wonderment. "So many miracle today. Aesir, where have you been?" she murmured.
*Thank her for coming to me in the vision earlier. That was very brave of her, and I might not have figured any of this out if not for her risking herself to find me.
Safire tweeted a slew of quiet notes, and Ghitana looked up, their eyes meeting in an intense exchange. Ghitana straightened, a blue fire in her dark gaze. A fragment from Lhigat flitted through my mind, And so sang the mermaids / of long-lost love, found again / a blue fire in the veins . . . I had recited that poem to Safire one night in the Cormalen palace library, the night right after we first met.
When Ghitana moved, the babe whimpered a protest and kneaded her breast with its fists. "Shh, Kellkell, my sweet girl," she said, nuzzling the babe's forehead.
So a girl child then--she looked even younger than Avreal. Ghitana herself looked young, certainly not much more than eighteen. But her eyes were old as she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, that blue fire between her and Safire again.
She leaned closer, her voice a whisper--apparently she was worried about being overheard. "I am a finder," she said simply.
*What does that mean? She's a witch too?
Safire chirped, her gaze fixed on Ghitana as she communicated my silent questions to her.
Ghitana's eyes shone with excitement, brilliant as the obsidian all around us. "I can help. I can tell you our course. Sailing due southwest, toward the Sud Island. He plans to anchor at a deserted island tomorrow for fresh water--and to lie low for awhile. Come to us on a moonless night as the hawk. The eunuch will mistake you for a fast-moving cloud then, like the guard of the emperor's jewel mistook Muzala the black dragon for a cloud."
*How does she know about the weirhawk? But my mind seemed full of gray stuff like cobwebs, Safire and Ghitana suddenly at the wrong end of a spyglass. I was slipping away, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. *I'll come back for you . . . I slung the thought toward Safire just before I blinked.
And immediately groaned. My head pounded, my skull on the verge of exploding. I shut my eyes again--even the glimpse of feeble candlelight seemed too bright. Then I lifted my hand to my forehead and wanted to curse. My muscles were still so weak from the Ursula's Bane that my arm seemed as heavy as ten bushel baskets of apples.
"Her Highness, sorry, Majesty Esme, overdid it," came a gruff, familiar voice, the itchy noise needling my brain like burrs being stuffed in my ears.
"I should say so." I squinted in the direction of the voice and discovered the hulking form of Safire's and my former bodyguard, the man Safire had finally chased away because she worried he meant to kidnap the children for King Rainier. "Vrendane--you came back."
"I don't scare easy when there's a king's ransom to be had, and King Rainier promised that bird-witch would be caged so she couldn't come after me this time." He touched the shiny scar on his cheek where Safire had bit him. "Thought she was going to peck my eyes out."
"She would have, if you hadn't left when you did. You should have stayed away."
"Now, Sir Merius, you don't seem at all pleased to see me." He grunted a raspy, mirthless laugh. "Here, maybe something to drink will put you in a better humor." He propped me up with some pillows and then lifted a tumbler full of cool water to my mouth. I gulped it down--my throat felt cracked as an evaporated mud wallow on the SerVerinese savannah.
I swallowed the last drop and wiped my hand across my mouth, realizing that my feet were shackled together. The chamber around us had stone walls and no windows, just a heavy door crisscrossed with iron braces. One of the prison cells in the forgotten bowels of the palace, redecorated with a fancy bed, a washstand, and candles for their noble "guest"? I could only hope we were still in the palace--that way perhaps Father would be able to find me. Otherwise . . . good God, I could be anywhere. My headache sharpened, the pain of razor blades slicing through my skull.
"So what does the spider king want with me?" I asked, forcing myself to keep my eyes open so I could watch Vrendane's expression. Likely he wouldn't reveal anything--he was as much of a sphinx as Father--but I had to try.
"Several things, none of which I can tell you, except that you'll be an honored guest--"
"Prisoner," I interrupted.
"Guest," he insisted, "when we get you back to Sarneth."
"What about Safire?"
"His Majesty Rainier intends to rescue her--"
"Capture her, you mean. You keep using these delightful euphemisms--it's not like you. Whoever taught you Corcin must be a slippery lying weasel, probably Undene. Am I right?"
His thin, colorless mouth tightened in a sneer. "Charming as ever, aren't you, young sir?"
"I try. What about Dominic and Avreal?"
"Don't worry yourself about them." The rough crags of his face crumbled at the edges, softening his appearance for a moment. "I've told His Majesty they're too heavily guarded to kidnap easily."
"Why would you tell him that?"
"Because it's true. His Majesty's far more interested in you and your bird wife, anyway." He shifted in his chair, the legs scraping the floor loudly as he crossed his arms and glowered at me.
"I don't believe that--it makes no sense. Why are you trying to protect my children from King Rainier? Or are you just lying to keep me more compliant?"
He looked down at his gloved hands. "How's young master Sewell?" he asked after a long moment, his voice quiet.
"Fine--still clamoring for fairy tales. And he enjoys making his own toys--I just showed him how to carve a boat from a stick last week." I paused, prickling twinges in my arms and legs and hands as the strength slowly returned to my muscles. "And here I thought you only cared for coin," I added softly.
He shoved the chair back abruptly. "I'll get you something to eat. Don't try anything--there's four more assassins outside the door." He stumped out of the cell, shoving the key in the lock and banging the door behind him.
Soon after, he brought me a tray with roast chicken, early greens covered in sweet vinegar and oil, and bread, accompanied by a flagon of wine and a pitcher of water. He watched while I ate, not speaking a word, then grabbed the tray and left again, his departure so swift that the few candles threatened to gutter and leave me stranded in complete darkness. I wasn't even certain if it was day or night. God knew how long I'd been unconscious.
After the repast, I found the strength to climb out of bed and explore the cell, the harsh clink of the chains around my ankles stabbing my ears with each step. Escape seemed a hopeless proposition, unless I could somehow overcome or fool five assassins. The only openings aside from the door were some air holes almost at the top of the walls and a drain covered with a heavy iron grate. A nasty odor wafted up from the sewer as I leaned over it, and I quickly stepped back, almost tripping over my leg shackles. I suspected that this cell was in the bottom of the palace near the river, as I detected the gurgle of running water somewhere close by. How long would they keep me here? Surely the plan was to smuggle me out of Cormalen as soon as possible before my family had a chance to find me. And surely Esme had devised some story to tell Father when he came looking for me, likely something to the effect that upon learning Safire had been captured by Peregrine, I had gone off in search of her. Would Father believe that? It fit my nature to a point, but I hoped Father realized that although I was still heedless at times, I had matured too much to leave on such a dangerous venture without consulting him and Eden first.
And what about Vrendane's lie concerning the children? Was it perhaps not a lie at all? But it made no sense--King Rainier had always been interested in our children, the main reason he had sent assassins to guard us in the first place. He thought the children, being so young, would be easier to train, their talents twisted to suit his purposes. Yet now he wanted me and Safire instead? What had changed?
A key rattled in the door, and then it swung open. I froze as Vrendane and Esme walked into the cell, Vrendane slamming the door shut and locking it behind them. It appeared that he slipped the key under his collar and into a secret inner pocket of his gambeson, which would make it difficult to grab unless I could somehow get close enough . . . the frantic onslaught of possible escape routes suddenly dammed itself as my mind went blank. Esme glided toward me, her blue velvet cloak flowing around her curves, her beautiful eyes heavy-lidded, her crimson lips set in a sultry pout. Any other time I would have found her appearance seductive, but now I just wanted to wrap my hands around her slender neck and strangle her . . . my arms rigid at my sides, I flexed my fingers, balling them into fists and then stretching them back out again and again.
As if sensing my murderous urges, Esme paused near the foot of the bed, just out of reach--if I lunged, the chains around my ankles would trip me before I could touch her. "What, no bow, Merius?" she asked, a hint of laughter in her tone.
"Take off my shackles, Your Majesty, and I'll gladly acknowledge your royalty," I said through gritted teeth.
"Vrendane." Her voice rose in a single word of command, and before I understood what she meant by uttering his name, he was a shadow at my back, dragging my arms behind me with his iron hands. For such a large man, he certainly could move fast--and silently. I cursed myself for being preoccupied with Esme and not watching my back more closely.
"Damn you." I fought against his grip. But he was too strong and I was still weak and wobbly from the Ursula's Bane. The cool smoothness of metal touched my wrists, and I heard the clicks of the shackle locks.
"Thank you, Vrendane." Esme stepped forward until she stood a mere foot from me, her head tilted up as her eyes searched my face. "So you hate me now?" she asked softly.
I remained silent as a stone, struggling to maintain the stoic mask Father's training had given me. She stared up at me for a moment longer before she sighed and looked down, her fingers tracing the edges of my vest. I flinched from her touch--her fingernails felt like dagger blades tickling my chest. Vrendane shifted behind me and cleared his throat.
"Nothing more to say, hmm? Doesn't seem right--you always have some witty remark." Her eyes flicked back up to find mine. "You don't know how sorry I am that it had to come to this, Merius. But there was no other way."
"What the hell does that mean?" My voice was hoarse. "No other way for what?"
She didn't blink. "My father wants you and Safire, and if I hadn't agreed to give you the Ursula's Bane, he would have ordered Vrendane here to do it, and you would be on your way to Sarneth by now."
"Your Highness . . ." Vrendane began.
"It's Your Majesty now. How many times do I have to remind you?" she snapped at him.
"Your Majesty," he said, and I could hear the slight sneer in his voice. I imagined he had been with the Sarneth court long enough to remember Esme in diapers, which probably made calling her Majesty seem a trifle odd. "Need I remind you we're both under your father's orders?"
"You horrid man. Need I remind you that we're not in Sarneth? We're in Cormalen, and my father is not sovereign here. I am." She began to pace back and forth, her hands clasped behind her back, her cloak and hair rippling in shimmering blue lines around her. Abruptly she stopped and skewered Vrendane with a dark look. "If you knew what my father intends for him, you would not be so eager to carry him back to Sarneth like a lamb to the slaughter. You may be an assassin with an unpleasant mien, but you're no ice-veined killer of innocents."
"You're talking nonsense, Your Majesty. The last thing King Rainier wants is him dead. He needs him to control her . . ."
"Is that what he told you?" Esme's laugh had a hard tinkle, a delicate bell made of ice. "Father needs him, no doubt of that, but not in this form." She ran her hand over my shoulders, cupped my jaw, even lifted her fingers to smooth the hair back from my forehead. I shuddered and closed my eyes, chilled to the bone, caught between Vrendane's painfully tight grip and Esme's roving fingers.
"So help me understand this," I heard myself say, my voice low and toneless. "King Rainier plans to have me fatally wounded in such a way that I shift permanently into my hawk form?"
"Yes." Esme sounded tired suddenly.
I held my tongue poised between my teeth, ready to bite it. I had to tread carefully, very carefully, if I expected to get out of this and rescue Safire. "All right. My next question is why. Why does he want me as a hawk?"
She gulped. "He . . ." she broke off. "Oh dear, this is more awkward than I thought. He wants you and Safire to . . . to mate and produce young that he can train to be loyal to him and Vergil and fight at their command."
I grimaced, my stomach in my boots at the idea of Rainier teaching Avreal, my sweet bird child, my innocent daughter who dreamt of bunnies and used to ride around on my shoulder and nip my ear with her beak, to kill for him. "Ugh--does he never give up his disgusting plots? What are we to him--exotic pets he wants to collect in a menagerie, mindless animals subject only to our baser instincts? He was around Safire. Surely he realizes that she's just as intelligent and willful a phoenix as she was a woman. Surely he realizes that she won't hesitate to roast him if he comes near her children. Surely he realizes that I won't hesitate to pluck his eyes out if he comes near her. Yet he expects us to breed in captivity? He expects us to just let him take our young for some phoenix hawk army?"
Esme shook her head. "What I told you is all I know about his scheme, Merius. I don't know how he planned to trick you and Safire into carrying it out. I don't really want to know, frankly."
"Good God. So now what?"
She straightened my vest and buttoned it, then tugged the wrinkles out of the folded-over edges of my collar, fussy as any wife would be, not meeting my gaze. "I expect you'll be needing fresh linen and clothes."
"What? How long are you keeping me here?"
"I can't have you flying off after Safire and perhaps getting killed by Peregrine's men. I'll let you out after my father has retrieved Safire," she said, her serenity infuriating as she gave me one of her dazzling smiles.
"Your Majesty, what about King Rainier's orders?" Vrendane demanded. "You're right--I don't want to take him back to Sarneth just to be slaughtered, but the other assassins won't care about that. Your father has promised us a great deal of coin . . ."
"Vrendane, you old mercenary." Esme spoke airily, as if negotiating assassins' pay were an everyday occurrence. "All right, I'll give each of you a diamond every Monday for as long as Merius stays here under your watch and you follow my orders. Will that match my father's rate?"
Vrendane's grip tightened on my elbows. "Well, now I don't know. See, if we bring him back to Sarneth, King Rainier will doubtless give us other assignments, whereas if we disobey His Majesty and stay here, we'll never work for him again. He may even send some of our brethren after us."
"Believe me, Vrendane, I can find other tasks for you. And I'm more than happy to devise some story for my father about how Merius got away because I botched it. He won't blame you if I'm the one who let the hawk fly free. He won't send assassins after me, no matter what I do--he needs me on the throne in Cormalen."
"But it doesn't sound like you're going to let me fly free, as you call it," I said. Irony tinged my voice.
"Eventually, Merius. Be patient, love--you could do with a bit of a rest, methinks." She wore that half-lidded look again as she ran her she-wolf paws over me.
"Whatever are you going to tell King Rainier in the meantime, Your Majesty?" And tell my family, I added silently.
"That you, brave and reckless as you are, immediately took off after Safire when you learned Peregrine had her."
Just as I had speculated. I wished her luck convincing Father and Eden with her lies. Of course, she had convinced me long enough to dose me with the Ursula's Bane.
She pulled out a sky blue handkerchief and a small vial. At first, I thought she was dabbing perfume on the embroidered, lacy expanse, then I remembered the Ursula's Bane could be administered by inhalation as well as by dipped darts.
"Your Majesty." Vrendane's voice was hoarse, his words confirming my suspicion. "Your Majesty, I don't think another dose so soon . . ."
"Nonsense. It's only a small dose compared to what I gave him before. Aesir above, you lecture me when my mother put so much of this poison in his veins that it's a wonder he retained his sanity? If he was strong enough to withstand its effects then, he can withstand them now, now that he's a far more powerful warlock. Besides," and here she smiled again, "I think it will help him stay calm and not worry so much about things he can do nothing to stop. It may even grant him happy visions and memories. You want to see her again, don't you, Merius?" Not waiting for my answer, she reached up and held the handkerchief over my nose and mouth. The overpowering sick sweetness of moonflowers clogged my lungs, and I tried to twist my face away, only to find Vrendane gripping the back of my head. Then I opened my jaw, intending to bite her, but she was too quick for me. She stuffed the handkerchief into my mouth and pinched my nose shut. The taste was awful--sour and bitter and oily all at once, and I gagged.
"Shh," she whispered. "If you would quit fighting it, it would be easier for you."
Ha--I'd like to jam this nasty-tasting cloth down her throat and see how she liked it. I sputtered and gnawed on the handkerchief, attempting to spit it out, but all that seemed to do was make it expand. It grew and grew, spreading its malign softness to every corner of my mouth, then to the back of my throat, where it sent tendrils down into my gullet and up into my nose. My last vision before the world went black was watching myself from above and seeing tiny vines curling out of my nostrils, deadly sky blue moonflowers blossoming on their tips . . .
When awareness returned, I opened my eyes on a memory. I lay on my side in a bed with wine-colored hangings, the candlelight flickering over soft green walls the hue of spring. The chamber at the inn where Safire and I had gone after I returned from the Marennese campaign, that precious week we spent together before I learned what Whitten had done to her, that precious week before the full weight of adulthood came crashing down on us. My chin propped on my palm, my elbow resting on the pillow, I watched as Safire primped before the washstand mirror, the quick, darting motion of her fingers fluffing her hair (even then she had moved like a bird), the sound of her humming some half-familiar tune to herself. Then she turned toward me, biting her bottom lip as she smiled at me for a long moment, our eyes locked in anticipation of each other, our shared ecstasy. Then she swallowed and patted the hollow at the base of her throat before she lowered her fingers to her laces and tugged the knot loose.
I was beside her in an instant, my eager grasp swallowing her hands as I helped her disrobe. Then we were in each others' arms, her soft nakedness warm through the thin cloth of my pants and shirt. I pressed my mouth to hers, her taste intoxicating me--witch wine, all frothy and sweetly dark. Her small teeth nipped my lower lip playfully, and she chortled, wrapping her arms around me, her hands clutching my shoulder blades as my tongue explored her silken mouth. Dear God, how had I survived the last year and a half without kissing her? We might have stayed locked in that embrace forever, lost in each others' kiss if she hadn't lightly slid her fingertips up my torso under my shirt and around my back.
Her touch tickled my skin into shivery gooseflesh, my insides erupting in a molten upsurge of passion, the volcano dormant no longer, my very blood on fire with impatience. I lifted my shirt over my head, my hands punching the air in an attempt to escape the confining cloth. While I was still fighting with my shirt, she unbuckled my belt and yanked it free, tossing it aside with a clatter. My boots and pants were soon to follow, and then we caught each other in another rough embrace. My wandering hands thrilled at the creamy smoothness of her hips and backside, the cedar-scented blaze of her hair, the sudden rosy tautness of her nipples when my thumbnails brushed over them. She sighed as I nudged her to the bed. We fell together in a wild tangle of limbs, and I kissed a line down her neck and shoulders. My fingers caressed the dewy petals of her nether flower, the glory of her blossoming mine alone to bring about, mine alone to savor. She was ready for me, my love, oh my sweet . . . She moaned at my touch, her legs twining around me, her heel hard against the small of my back. Her hand clutched in my hair, she urged me back upwards, my mouth landing on hers in a kiss that never seemed to end. We both cried out as I entered her, and I almost lost it then.
"Safire," I gasped as we moved together, "Safire," her name the only prayer that had ever crossed my lips with ease. Words left me then . . . speechless we experienced our glimpse of the eternal, a star we could only catch in each others' arms.
Such a vivid memory, both a comfort and a torment . . . I blinked and stretched in the darkness, the cold metal and rattle of the chain shackling my ankles quickly reminding me of my current predicament. At least the Ursula's Bane had granted me a good dream instead of a nightmare. At least I had no headache this time and could still move my limbs. I had never had such a mild dose of the Bane. I had never had such a pleasant experience with it--now I could understand why some became addicted to its effects. That dream had felt so real. Even my muscles seemed well-spent, that enjoyable tired soreness that followed a long run or bout of lovemaking. God, what I would give to have Safire here beside me in the darkness, my sweet witch wife.
I groaned and rolled over, then froze. The pillow smelled of marapolos perfume. Esme's perfume. Oh hell--my stomach churned, clammy sweat breaking out on my forehead. Damn her, damn her, damn her to the deepest pit in hell for tricking me into betraying Safire with the false heaven of my own memories.