Page 38 of House of Dusk
Sinoe huffed. “Father won’t allow her to visit.”
“You could go to her, surely?”
That got her an arched brow. “My father barely allows me to leave the palace. He’s hardly going to send me into the hands of his enemies.”
A screech rang out, drawing both of them to turn their faces skyward. Tami had apparently taken insult from the pennant snapping at the crest of the tower above. She dove, but the wind flicked the cloth from her grasping talons at the last moment.
Undaunted, the ailouron beat her golden wings, climbing again, her cries growing more and more outraged as the banner defied her. When she finally managed to tear loose a strip of the crimson cloth, her shriek was as triumphant as if she’d bested a manticore.
Sinoe laughed, and it was her true laugh again, the bewitching tumble of merriment that plucked at Yeneris’s throat. Almost, she let the conversation die. But she was here to learn, not to laugh.
“I thought there was a peace treaty with Scarthia.” She’d seen the ambassador at a lily-gazing party Sinoe had attended earlier that week: a tall, imposing woman who looked as if she could run twenty miles, wrestle a lion, and then compose an epic poem about it. Yeneris had approved. Even more so when she saw the woman thank the servant who brought her wine. It was Ambassador Opotysi who had gifted Sinoe the ailouron. A significant gift, from what Yeneris knew of Scarthians. The creatures were much prized in the north, treasured and loyal companions generally kept only by those who shared blood with their chieftains. Kizare was sister to the leader of one of the largest clans.
“Treaties can be broken. And my father is not a trusting man.” Sinoe looked back toward the gates. The figures were gone now, on their way north to the temple of the House of Dawn to claim a mythic blade to slay an ancient evil.
Prickles fluttered over her skin as Yeneris remembered Sinoe’s voice—the voice of the Fates—intoning the words that had sent Ichos and Lacheron on that mission.
Long has the old enemy watched and waited. Now he seeks to strike his second blow, and the world will not survive it. The first light must reveal the weapon of unmaking. When it is found, when the Maiden steps forth from flame to take her rightful place, only then shall the old enemy fall.
But the kore was not meant for flame. She had given herself to the earth. She had bound her spirit deep in the bones of the earth, a sacrifice to save her people.
Yeneris thought of what her mother had told her on the day the crimson sails had appeared on the horizon.They’ve come because of a lie. Their king believes the kore belongs to him.
We should tell them the truth, then, Yeneris had said. So young, so naive.
They don’t believe us. They have their own stories. And it is very, very hard to make someone believe a new story about themselves.
Hierax gripped his own supposed destiny with an iron fist. He would never willingly release it. Yeneris would have to take it. Return the kore to her rightful home before the Helissoni could undo her sacrifice. With Ichos and the Heron gone, there would be fewer watchful eyes. Perhaps she should try to break into the queen’s chambers tonight. Steal away the kore’s bones and be done with crushing herself into this other world.
Steps sounded on the stairs. Yeneris shifted smoothly, setting herself between Sinoe and the door. A moment later a man in the pale blue of a palace attendant appeared. He dipped a low bow to Sinoe, who waved for Yeneris to step aside.
“Bright One, the king sends his blessings and wishes you to share your noon meal with him.”
“Very well.” Sinoe’s voice was perfectly calm, but Yeneris caught a flicker of tension in her jaw. She whistled, a single sweet note. Tami spiraled down to land heavily on Sinoe’s shoulder. Her golden eyes fixed on the servant, who took a step back, warily eyeing the bit of crimson cloth trailing from the ailouron’s claws. It looked distressingly like blood against Sinoe’s pale gown.
The princess reached up, soothing the bird-beast with her touch, and seeming to draw strength from Tami in return. “Will anyone else be joining us?”
“No, my lady. Your father requested a f-family meal.”
Why had the attendant stammered over the wordfamily? Was it some slight to the absent prince?
Sinoe’s fingers froze for a long moment, buried in the thick golden feathers of Tami’s ruff. “Very well. Come, Yeneris. Best not to keep them waiting.”
• • •
Them. Yeneris considered the word as she followed Sinoe down the spiral of pearly marble steps. So far as she knew, Sinoe had no close relations besides her father and brother, at least not here in the city. Hierax had no siblings, only a scattering of distant cousins.
They crossed the myrtle courtyard, cool and plashy with fountains, then into the southern section of the palace. A thrill of alarm and expectation shivered through Yeneris. The queen’s wing.
But why? Sinoe took most of her meals in her own chambers, which were in the north wing, or in the solar, with a small company of ladies of the court. There was a grander feasting hall, of course, its walls painted with scenes of a royal hunt, and couches for a hundred guests. But that was in the western wing. No doubt Hierax had a private dining chamber, but his suite was in the eastern wing.
She had to ask. Had to prepare herself. This could be an opportunity. “Princess, where are we going?”
Sinoe halted so abruptly Yeneris had to catch herself to keep from smacking into the woman. Tami hissed at her from the princess’s shoulder, snapping her hooked beak until Yeneris drew back, tucking her hands behind her. “It would be helpful to know. So I can ensure your safety.”
A man from the palace guard had given Yeneris a tour before she began her service. Important to know the exits, the routes she might need to take to get Sinoe to safety, in the case of any threat. But the tour had not included the south wing.No one goes there now,the guard told her.The king keeps it sealed.
It was only from the gossip of servants that Yeneris learned it was where Hierax had secured the reliquary. She supposed it made sense, if the man believed that the kore was his fated bride.
