Page 55 of House of Dusk
There were thousands. Not just the few who had escaped the destruction of the city, but those who fled before the siege, those who were already living elsewhere, the diaspora that had begun three centuries ago during the cataclysm. So, no, she was not the only one. But perhaps she was the only one in Sinoe’s narrow world.
“What about your brother?” Clearly Sinoe hadn’t told Ichos about her clandestine activities.
Sinoe rolled her new scroll between her hands. “My mother told me a story when I was a little girl, about scorpion mares. Have you heard of them?”
Yeneris shook her head.
“They live in the far eastern steppes. They’re beautiful, tall and graceful, and they have coats like molten metal. Fast as the wind. There’s a story that they’re the daughters of the Sphinx.”
“What does this have to do with your brother?”
“Scorpion mares can’t be tamed. There’s only one way to catch one. You need to hunt down one of their foals. And you kill it. You murder it and tear out the baby’s heart and you take that, and you show it to the mare, and she will submit to you. She will let you ride her, because you hold something that is precious to her. But she will never love you. She hates you, even as she serves you.”
Yeneris shook her head. “I don’t read poetry, princess. You’ll have to speak plainly.”
“Ichos is the scorpion mare. He hates Father, but he’ll never turn against him. And he doesn’t understand what it’s like for me. He’s not imprisoned in the palace.”
“Because he’s not valuable enough to keep locked away,” said Yeneris. That must be a wound as well. Ichos was as much his father’s tool as Sinoe. Just not one as highly valued. Awkward, to say the least.
Yeneris couldn’t help feeling that none of this was what she’d volunteered for. When Mikat had recruited her from the camp—hungry and desperate for purpose—it had been to restore Bassara. For the past seven years she’d imagined this mission. Herself, brave and capable and cool-eyed, silently working in the shadows to regain the kore’s bones. She’d understood that doing so required getting close to the princess. She’d been prepared to lie, to manipulate, to gather secrets.
She hadn’t realized that witnessing someone’s hidden truth could be a mirror. These were not things she could simply scribe into the tablet of her memory, to be spilled back out to Mikat.
Yeneris cared. That was the solid, shameful truth of it. She cared about Sinoe. Fates, she even felt a pang of pity for the brother.
Fine, she told herself.Feel it. Feel it and then lock it away. Emotions weren’t shameful, unless she let them rule her. And she most definitely could not afford to be ruled by these emotions.
Which was made abundantly clear a moment later when she noticed a tawny-haired boy of about eleven bump against Sinoe on his way through the market.
“Not so fast.” Yeneris caught his arm just as he was about to slip away into the crowd. He gave a squawk, fighting her, but she was stronger. He was a skinny thing. She relaxed her grip slightly. No need to hurt the boy. “Give it back.”
“I didn’t take anything!” His eyes went wide, actually welling with tears. He was good. But not good enough.
Yeneris patted the boy’s sleeves, then the scarf tucked around his shoulders, where she found the suspicious lump. She pulled loose the gold bangle and held it out to Sinoe. “I told you this would happen.”
“And I told you to trust me,” said Sinoe, archly. She took the bangle, then held it out to the boy. “Here. You can keep it, if you take us to the Hive. We need to speak with the Queen of Swarms.”
• • •
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” said Yeneris, scowling around the dim hall. The clatter of dice thrummed in the air, twining with the reedy hum of pipes. The high, curved walls were painted a rich saffron, decorated with a pattern like honeycomb. The Queen of Swarms clearly valued a strong and consistent aesthetic. Yeneris wondered if she would be wearing a striped black and gold gown. Perhaps jeweled wings. Or a poisoned blade she called Stinger.
“You’re just grouchy because they made you leave your weapons at the door,” said Sinoe.
“Not all of them,” countered Yeneris. She’d managed to keep two of her most well-concealed blades. A small comfort, given that others here had no doubt done the same. “How exactly do you plan to get the queen to speak with us? If she’s working for Lacheron, don’t you think she’s just going to tell him about all this?”
Her belly went cold at the thought. At best, she’d be fired from service. Ruin any chance she had of rescuing the kore’s bones. At worst, she’d be executed. No, worst of all, they might suspect her. And what then? Would she be the one bound and bleeding, with Sinoe thrust into the thick smoke to spill her secrets? Reveal Mikat and the others?
Sinoe waved a dismissive hand. “Not if we give her a good reason.”
“What reason?”
“We’re going to save her life.”
Yeneris forced herself to take a long, deep breath. Then she drew Sinoe to the side, into an alcove beside one of the large braziers that warmed the room. “Tell me everything. Seriously, princess. This isn’t a game.”
“I know it’s not a game,” Sinoe bit back. “I saw the blood. I saw a woman twitching on the ground, trying to breathe through a severed throat.” Her voice trembled slightly. “I’m sorry. I should have told you everything sooner. I should have trusted you.”
Yeneris winced. “It’s fine. It doesn’t change anything. Let’s just focus on the mission.” Good advice. “Did you see the assassin?”
