Page 109 of Mistress of Bones
He said something else, but Azul was doubled over again, a new wave of pain rippling through her. Tears raced down her face. She panted against the floor, the room coming in and out of focus. Enjul—no, not Enjul, the Lord Death—knelt by her side to look at her. His eyes were wide with equal parts surprise and curiosity. Something crashed in the distance and shouting followed. The pounding of boots shook the tile beneath her cheek. More of Sergado’s guards? How would she face them?
That was her last coherent thought.
XXXVIWHAT REMAINS
A YEAR AND A HALF EARLIER
Edine de Guzmán knew she was in over her head, like the time Si-so threw her into the deep part of the lake and she had stared right into Lord Death’s eyes. But she survived the lake, and she would survive this.
She had begged Si-so to come help, just as she begged him at the lake, but this time he refused. This time it was all on her.
After all, hadn’t she come to Cienpuentes to make her fortune? Si-so and Nida and Iriana had all done it before her, so perhaps this was the Lady Dream’s way of telling her that some things must be faced alone, that the fortune she had begged for in the shrine back home as she tied her wish to the goddess’s leg could only be earned on one’s own.
She crept along the narrow passageway between two of Cienpuentes’s stone buildings. It was late at night, and this part of the city lay quiet and sleepy and dark. So dark she could barely see her hand in front of her eyes, Luck and Wonder’s shine hidden behind a mass of clouds.
A few days earlier, she’d slipped into an old servants’ corridor, forgotten after some renovations in Iriana’s house. The De Guzmáns’ oldest sister had never liked secret passageways in her home, not afterEdine and Si-so played so many tricks on her at their family’s estate, but whomever she had contracted to close this one up had done the shoddiest job.
The door at the end of that corridor had been nailed shut, and wallpaper was all that hid it from view on the other side. Voices drifted clearly through the cracks between the frame and the uneven edges of the door. Edine hadn’t intended to spy on Iriana, but working for her sister as a messenger had piqued her curiosity: the sealed messages she delivered, the constant reminders not to call attention to herself; the flickering of the recipients’ eyes when she handed them the letters, as if they were checking who might be watching the exchange.
Cienpuentes was a city full of schemers, as Si-so had reminded her when she went to him with her worries, but something about this hadn’t felt right. Perhaps it was the worry lines marring Iriana’s face, perhaps the tightening of her mouth after certain friends paid her a visit.
So, Edine had listened in on these visits, and when they yielded nothing beyond vague mentions of the Heart and Anchor and the regent and the king, she stole a missive before her sister threw it into the fire. It contained a place and a date.
The place and date being here and now, in a small square walled by buildings. Edine had assumed the people in attendance would check the alleyways before conducting their business, so she had waited before slipping in. Catching half a conversation was better than being discovered and catching nothing.
Carefully, she peeked into the square. Three caped figures stood in close formation, their voices only murmurs. Edine strained to catch the words.
“… Witch…,” accompanied by spitting.
“… De Guzmán…,” followed by a shake of the head.
“… must kill her…,” in a female tone she recognized as one of Iriana’s friends.
Edine’s blood ran cold. Assassinations had become less common over the years, and Edine could not believe her sister would be involvedin such a thing. Oh, if only Si-so were here to burst into the square and demand an explanation! If Edine did that, who would listen to her? The only one who ever did was Miguel, and she couldn’t tell him. Not when family was involved.
For all that she feared she might love the man, she loved her siblings a lot more.
“Can’t,” a voice snapped. “If she has the goddess inside…”
At this, Edine scowled. She? The goddess inside? Did they mean the Witch? She had heard rumors about some woman who dealt in people’s dreams. But Edine came from a place where such things were common tales with no grounding in reality, so she hadn’t thought much of it.
“Then we’ll end this before it starts,” the woman said, anger coloring her voice. Edine wondered where her sister was and why she wasn’t here to end this strange argument.
Edine had come here to unravel plots about palace insurrections, not listen to folktales about gods and creatures.
“The Lady Dream would never betray us,” one of the others insisted. “Watch your tongue, Dela.”
“Why shouldn’t she?” Dela answered, acerbic and sour, and Edine could imagine the lines on her forehead deepening as her lips pursed. “What have we done to ingratiate us with her? With the Blessed Heart? All that work to put the Anchor ban in place and now—gone with the queen!”
One of the figures shushed her.
But Dela wasn’t done. “If we eliminate the hosts before the gods come, we’ll have nothing to worry about.”
Edine reeled back, shocked. Hosts? For… for the gods? What did that mean? Her heel slipped backward, connecting with a rodent. Its squeak filled the air, and the three figures snapped their attention to her.
“Who’s there?” one of them asked, reaching for his rapier.
Edine swallowed a curse and retreated through the alleyway. Loudly. Too loudly.
