Page 59 of House of Dusk
For a moment Yeneris thought Sinoe might actually be entertaining the offer. Sinoe’s eyes widened. Her lips parted. Then she shook her head sharply. “My visions aren’t something to be bought and sold. They belong to the Fates.”
“Do they?” Melita tilted her head. “It seems to me that they belong to the king.”
Sinoe said nothing. Only stood, and dipped her head to the old woman. “Come, Yeneris. We’re done here.”
• • •
Sinoe said very little on the journey back, and Yeneris was too busy ensuring that they weren’t murdered, robbed or recognized to make conversation. Or at least, that was what she told herself.
It wasn’t until they’d finally made it back to the palace gardens below the north wing that Yeneris cleared her throat. “Princess, are you all right?”
“You mean aside from the fact that there are apparently six dead bodies hidden in Lacheron’s workshop?”
Fine. So she didn’t want to talk about it. Just as well. She’d stick to business, then. “So you didn’t know? Your father didn’t speak of it?”
Sinoe had halted beneath a trellis of night-blooming jasmine. “Not with me. But Lacheron’s always been in love with alchemy and sorcery. Maybe he’s using them for his research. Brewing up some new poison to destroy Father’s enemies.”
Yeneris said nothing. But maybe her silence was enough. Sinoe drew in a sharp breath. “Furies scald me. I’m sorry, Yen. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s fine,” Yeneris lied.
“No. It’s not. None of it is fine.” Sinoe began to pace, slippers crunching against the white gravel of the path. “Maybe he was trying to find a way to revive the dead. To give my father what he wants: the Faithful Maiden at his side.” Scorn turned her voice sour.
Yeneris counted to five, keeping her breathing slow. “I thought your father wanted the agia of Stara Bron to do that.”
“Yes, well, that would be ideal, wouldn’t it? One of the gods incarnate granting him her holy blessing? No one could question him then. It’s exactly the sort of grand spectacle he likes.”
And even now Lacheron and Ichos were on their way to Stara Bron, armed with Sinoe’s latest prophecy. What if it was enough to sway the agia? Even so, it should be impossible. The kore had dedicated her bones, her spirit, to the Scarab. Gave her flesh and soul to calm the roiling, broken earth and preserve Bassara during the great cataclysm. But the Phoenix was sister to the Scarab. Equal in power. And if the agia willed it, that might be enough to undo that sacrifice. And then what? Would even the broken remnants of Bassara fade to nothing? Sink beneath the sea with no hope of rising again?
All the more reason to act now, while they had the chance.
Sinoe continued to pace, growing more agitated with every step. “He’s up to something. You feel it, too, don’t you, Yen? There’s something going on.”
“Stealing four dozen corpses is a fairly obvious sign that something’s going on, yes.” But it wasn’t the only question gnawing at Yeneris. “Why is your father so convinced that he needs to have the Maiden at his side? Was that in your original prophecy?”
Sinoe shook her head. “I don’t remember. But it was clear enough three days ago.”
“Was it? You said the Maiden would step from flame to take her rightful place. It doesn’t say her rightful place is with King Hierax. We don’t even know if it’s the kore or some other maiden.” Yeneris held her breath, watching the princess.
Sinoe groaned. “You’d think the Fates would make it more clear if it was so important.” She wrapped her arms around her midsection. She looked very small, a dark shadow in the moonlight. “I’m sure it will all make sense, after it happens and we can’t change anything and the world is falling to cinders around us.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Yeneris wished she had a blade sharp enough to slice away Sinoe’s despair. “Look at what you did tonight.”
“You did most of that. I was just getting in your way.”
“You weren’t in my way.”
The space between them had narrowed. It made it even more obvious how tiny Sinoe was. The top of her head was barely level with Yeneris’s chin. She remembered another girl teasing her, once, saying that Yeneris was so tall she’d need to carry a step stool for her lovers to stand on when she went courting. She cleared her throat, knowing she ought to step back. Her feet wouldn’t move. “You don’t belong to him,” she said. “He doesn’t own you. Or your visions. You are no one’s tool.”
Sinoe tipped her chin up, hazel eyes turned to dark and mysterious pools, her creamy skin gleaming as if she’d swallowed moonshine. “Thank you, Yen.”
Her fingers brushed the back of Yeneris’s hand, tracing her knuckles with fire. “It felt good to do something. To choose something for myself. I know...I know I make things hard for you. But I want you to know I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”
“I appreciate you, too.” Yeneris winced inwardly. The words sounded so silly, so meek and colorless. When inside she was awash with color. When what she wanted, more than anything, was to reach out and twine her hand in Sinoe’s. To know the feel of her skin. But that was impossible. And so maybe it was all for the best that she lost her tongue around Sinoe.
Because if she ever did find it, she might speak the truth.
CHAPTER 17
