Page 104 of House of Dusk
Yeneris knew what she had to do. “Stay here,” she breathed to Sinoe. “I’m going to get the amulet.”
Sinoe’s expression pulled taut with worry. “He’ll notice.”
“He’s in a trance,” said Yeneris, praying she was right.
“He’ll notice it’s missing,” the princess persisted. “Later.”
It was a fair point, but Yeneris didn’t see any other option. They needed that key. “Maybe he’ll think he dropped it?”
“Could you swap this?” Sinoe held up one of the unfinished amulets. She must have taken it from the worktable. Clever woman. A flutter of warmth chased back the tension grinding Yeneris’s belly as she took it.
“Yes.”
Carefully, she crept forward. Every nerve flayed. She was a living scream clenched between sharp teeth. A teetering goblet above cruel stone. And every step brought her closer to the Ember King.
The smoke fell silent. Yeneris froze, poised to rabbit away. She was so close she saw the rise and fall of Lacheron’s chest as he breathed, deep and slow. He spoke, and these words she understood.
“Yes, my lord. I have reclaimed your gift. And I know what to do with it now. I know how to break the cycle.”
Yeneris sidled closer. She held the blank amulet lightly in her left hand, limbering the fingers of her right. She could do this. She’d lifted heavier purses from far more attentive marks. Though not recently. But as she lifted her hand, reaching for the slip of red clay, she froze.
There were two.
They looked identical, but then, she couldn’t see more than the top inch. She glanced back to Sinoe. Found the princess frowning. Biting the side of her cheek, as if puzzling out a bit of one of her prophecies. Then she pointed to the right.
It made sense. The other was probably just another backup. And Yeneris only had one decoy. She drew in a steadying breath, breathing in calm and certainty. Then quickly, neatly, smoothly, she made the swap.
Lacheron shuddered. Yeneris grasped for the hilt of her dagger, had it half unsheathed before she realized the man was speaking again.
“Five days,” he said. “Five days and it will be done. The interlopers will rule no more, and the world will be yours, as it was always meant to be.”
The brazier began to pop and shudder, more and more of the strange purple embers flaring out. Yeneris backed away, but she was too slow. One of the sparks grazed the tip of her thumb.
A terrible roiling caught her, like being spun by the waves in a storm. Like when she was sick with the flux back in the camps, nausea turning her inside out, making her feel as if her body belonged to someone else, to another world with different rules. She was lost.
Until cool slim fingers wrapped her own, steadying her against the maelstrom. A breath of jasmine drove back the smoke. Sinoe’s shoulder lodged under her arm, and together they scrambled away, out of the chamber, away from the Ember King and his nameless master.
• • •
“Are you all right?” Sinoe still hadn’t released her grip on Yeneris’s hand, though they were well away from Lacheron’s workshop of horrors by then, safe in the dim sweetness of the rose garden.
“I’m fine.” Yeneris tugged her fingers free. She didn’t want to, but the tip of her thumb still throbbed. When she turned her hand to catch the moonlight, though, she saw no injury, not even a bruise. Which was almost worse. “What was that?”
Sinoe shuddered. “Something I never want to see again. Fates weep. And I thought the talking corpse was bad.” She halted in the shadow of one of the painted statues standing guard over the flowers. The bright colors were muted in the darkness, making it hard to identify the figure. Probably Breseus, though. Half the statues in Helisson were Breseus.
And yet the most heroic person she knew was standing before her. No statue, but a living, breathing woman. Having survived the last hours of fear and horror, something in Yeneris surged up, hungry for life. For something pure and brave and vivid. She tucked her hands behind her back before she did anything foolish. Clearing her throat, she said, “Thank you. I’m—I’m glad you came with me.”
Sinoe laughed. “Me? Honestly, I was just trying my best not to shriek and wail. You were the living shadow. And so quick and clever with your hands. It’s very impressive.”
Yeneris flushed. This was verging a bit too close to some of her more interesting dreams. She cleared her throat, thrusting the clay amulet at Sinoe. “Here. Let’s see if it works.”
The princess took the amulet, her expression thoughtful. Then she shook her head. “I think we should wait. It’s not as if I need to do a scrying this very instant. Lacheron said they can use the bracelet to find me. For all we know, he might be able to tell if it’s removed.”
“But...it hurts you.” Sinoe had tried to hide it, but Yeneris had seen her chafing at the wrist, seen the pinch of pain on her brow, even if she smoothed it away a moment later.
“I can bear it. I’m stronger than I look,” said Sinoe, grinning immodestly.
It was true. The princess might look as if she were made of thistledown and poetry, but she was stronger than that. A sudden memory invaded Yeneris’s thoughts. Her mother, smiling at her, as they knelt in the soft earth beside her father’s tree in the eternal garden, one of the fruits open between them, spilling the red-jeweled seeds.Look how strong it grows, Ris. Just like yourfather. Strong and sweet.She’d broken the seeds between her teeth, and the tart juice had run down her throat, and she had known that was what she wanted, too. What she would dream of. Someone strong and sweet, with deep roots and dusky secrets. A lioness.
