Page 105 of House of Dusk
“Oh, really?” purred Sinoe. “A lioness. I like that.”
Had she said that aloud? Fates take her. She started to retreat, but Sinoe caught her hand, threading their fingers together as she had before. And just as before, it set the universe in its proper place, set every star ablaze.
Yeneris sucked in a breath of the night air, but it was full of roses, and there was a drumbeat of longing in her chest.
And then, abruptly, a very different drumbeat. Alarm.
“Someone’s coming!” she hissed. The steps were faint, but clear. Approaching from the direction they’d just come. Could it be Lacheron? Had he discovered the missing amulet? Was he coming to reclaim it even now? Even if it was only one of the palace guards, they couldn’t afford to be seen. It would raise too many questions.
“Come on,” she said, “we need to—wait, what are you doing?”
Sinoe was pulling her sideways, behind the statue. Yeneris found herself pressed against the cold stone base, which only made her even more aware of the heat of her own body. “I thought you said you were going to defend me if we ran into guards?” she whispered.
“I am. Shush, or they’ll think we’re up to no good.”
“We’re hiding in the shadows in the garden in the middle of the night,” Yeneris pointed out. “Of course they’ll think we’re up to no good.”
“Yes. But not the kind that gets us dragged in front of my father.”
Sinoe pressed a hand to her shoulder, a fairly pointless gesture if she was trying to keep Yeneris from moving. But then Sinoe’s eyes met hers, and Yeneris knew she could never move again, that she would turn herself to stone, and endure a thousand thousand years, anything not to break this spell.
Yeneris didn’t know if she moved first, or if Sinoe did. She hoped that they moved as one. That Sinoe was as eager as she was for this.
For the softness of the kiss, for the press of warmth in the shadows, for an answer to a question that had been beating in her chest ever since the first day she saw those ridiculous twee hummingbirds and heard Sinoe sighing over a book of poetry.
And now she had her answer. Sinoe’s skin was silk and hot breath and something even sweeter that had no name. Yeneris’s heart spread new wings, fledging with urgency.
For long, aching moments there was nothing but Sinoe.
And then, on the fringes of her awareness, a slight noise—a grunt? A gasp?
Yeneris pulled away abruptly. Someone was walking away, continuing along the path.
“It’s fine,” Sinoe said, sounding breathless. “It wasn’t a guard. Only one of the gardeners. Though what there is to do this late at night, I’ve no idea. Watering moonflowers? Chasing away nightcatchers?”
Only a gardener.
But it wasn’t fine.
Because Yeneris had seen the gardener’s face, just as she slipped away. Mikat had paused to look back. Had no doubt wanted Yeneris to see. To know that she was being watched. That she was not the only blade hidden here in the palace of her enemies.
CHAPTER 29
SEPHRE
They reached Stara Sidea at dusk. The day’s journey had been long, but not unpleasant, aside from the painful detour Sephre insisted they take along a bramble-choked riverbed, after spotting what might have been a skotos—or a bloodthirsty prince—on the trail behind them. Nilos had taken it well, had even laughed when it turned out to be nothing but a hungry goat. There had been no more talk of the past or future. Instead, she and Nilos debated the relative merits of catmint and spearmint, and whether the clouds in the west meant rain. It should have been punishingly dull, but Sephre welcomed it. Nilos was a surprisingly comfortable companion. He reminded her of Abas. Giving her space to be who she was, with no expectations.
She flattered herself that she might be offering Nilos a similar comfort. Back in the rain-drenched barn where they’d first met, there had been a sort of...distance . . . around him. A wall of clever words and that dark wool cloak drawn close. And why not? It was only now that she understood the risk he had taken, that day on the hilltop, telling her his truth. Challenging her to step outside her own understanding of the world.
And now she was here. Walking beside him. Teaching him one of Zander’s favorite bawdy marching songs almost entirely for the pleasure of seeing him blush. Watching him scramble up a wild plum tree like a boy half his age, to harvest a bounty of dusky-purple fruit for them to share. He cut them for her, sweet, dripping slices of summer.
She almost regretted their arrival at the ruined temple. But she needed more than her own peace. She needed to rescue Timeus. She needed a way into the Labyrinth of Souls, and with luck the ruined temple of the House of Dusk would give her that.
Like Stara Bron, Stara Sidea had been carved into stone. But rather than being atop a mountain, it lay deep in a canyon of smooth red rock. Nilos led them into one of the narrow gorges, following the pebbled bed of a shallow river. High walls closed them in. Overhead, a narrow ribbon of sky glinted with stars. The only sounds were the eerie whispers of the wind over stone, and a faint skittering of falling stones.
She searched the heights above, but saw nothing. Probably just a rat, or a lizard.
Even so, her nerves thrummed, highly aware of just how easy it was to die trapped in a gorge, with nowhere to run. Was this where the skotoi planned to spring their trap? Nilos had said they were stronger within the labyrinth than without, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t strike earlier, given a good opportunity.
