Page 26 of A Court of Masks and Roses
“He’s still in the rental room now.” Luca’s smirk morphs into a full grin. “And none too happy. Apparently, the ladies only took him up there to discuss the work of the Goddess and her Messenger. Serves him right.”
Relief rushes over me like a wave, and I start back toward the Wandering Dog, only to realize that Trace is keeping stride with me. “It might be better if I retrieved the prince without you, sir,” I say quietly.
“The hellion is all yours,” Trace says, his own voice low. “But a word of caution before I depart—you go around slandering holy guardsmen, much less accusing them of associating with Viva Sylthia, and you won’t live long in this city.”
I tighten my jaw and glance over my shoulder at Trace. There are a lot of things in Delta that can shorten one’s lifespan, it seems. “Do you know how Novan really died?”
Trace’s lips press together but he nods. “Yes. A fight with aholy guardsman over a girl,” he says with a resigned exhale. “I found a note in the training hall the following morning, warning the Royal Guard to stay away from anyone under the roses’ ‘protection.’”
The Holy Guard killed a man and morphed the murder into a message? Perhaps Samuels’s dual loyalties are not as distant as I thought. “That isn’t what Wil thinks happened,” I say instead. “Did you not tell anyone?”
“And start a bloody riot? Are you insane?” Trace snorts. “Speaking of which, the details of Novan’s death are not for the prince’s consumption. We’ve enough trouble without that idiot deciding to go looking for either the wench or her friends.”
Fair point. Except... “Why do you hate Wil so much?” I ask. “I understand the frustration, but it seems personal for you—as if Wil poisoned your dog. Why?”
“I’ve no notion of what you speak,” says Trace, veering away from me. “Just keep your mouth shut and your piece in your breeches.”
15
KALI
For being a murderous terror monger, Sergeant Samuels leads a rather routine life. After six days of watching him patrol the temple grounds with other roses, keep the peace at the Wandering Dog’s games, and return home to a small house with a portly wife, I’m hard-pressed to say when exactly he schemes up plots to burn people alive in the name of Sylthia.
“Maybe he does his evil while Kal is shadowing Trace on guard duty or Lady Lianna is having evening tea with courtiers,” Leaf says as I kick off my shoes and throw myself on the bed beside her.
The divine softness of the feather mattress envelops me soothingly. “I checked on him at different times and spent two nights just watching his bloody house from a nearby rooftop. Samuels isn’t slithering to a secret meeting in the dead of night, and unless he is scheming violent plots with the Holy Guard in broad daylight, I haven’t seen him talk to anyone suspicious during the day either. He has a routine and he isaround other people all the time.” I rub my face. I sent a note with my suspicions to Firehorn but have received no response. “Maybe Samuels gets his instructions through written correspondence—I haven’t breached that yet. What are you doing?”
Still sitting on the bed beside me, Leaf has her legs crossed and takes slow, rhythmic breaths. Her hands clasp a crystal rod that swarms with yellow tufts of magic. Bit by bit, the tufts weave themselves together like slivers of coiled yarn. I touch Leaf’s arm and the magical tufts scatter like the wind throughout the crystal. Leaf scowls. “Tuning a memory crystal. If woven correctly, the magic will remember the sounds it hears. A conversation, a song, anything. The base weave itself is difficult enough, but the trigger is worse.” She shakes her head. “The bloody thing is only useful if it starts imprinting on command.”
“Mmm.” I close my eyes, fatigue making my limbs lead. “Where are you getting all these crystals?” The answering silence is too long for comfort and I pop open an eyelid. Bowing to Bishop Bahir’s pressure, Firehorn officially ended all crown-sponsored magic study over a decade ago. The occasional servants or courtiers with the gift are not stupid enough to advertise it.
Leaf jerks her head toward the same catacomb passages I’ve been using to move between Kal’s and Lianna’s lives. “There is a small trove of crystals and knowledge beneath Delta. I’m not the first living-crystal scholar to set foot in the palace, Kali. Just the only one currently alive.” Pulling a journal out from beneath a pile of books, she tosses it to me. I sit up and open it carefully. Neat lines of meaningless words stare at me from the pages. “It’s written in code,” Leaf explains over my shoulder. “I’m still working out what it says, but I think it’s magical theory.”
I fall back onto the bed. “If Firehorn finds out—”
“Firehorn all but gave me a map,” says Leaf. “You think he just happened to put us into these rooms, beside a hoard of living stones and years of notes? He could have held me anywhere for collateral, but he wanted me here. The Drought is killing Dansil and the king is desperate for any ideas—even if they come from magic.”
“Then why didn’t he just—” I stop midsentence, the answer to my own question suddenly obvious. If anything goes against his interest, the king needs complete deniability. He can let Leaf work, keep me in line, claim moral superiority,andensure both Leaf’s and my silence without lifting a finger. Lord Gapral told me that Leaf is the more valuable of us. He wasn’t wrong. “And have you any ideas?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure yet. On a different matter, however...” She takes the journal away and pulls out a handful of unfamiliar crystals. The magical tufts inside are woven into tiny intricate patterns that mean nothing to me. “Pick these up one by one.”
I make a face, bracing myself for the horrid mix of tingling numbness and sharp prickles that crystals spread over my skin. The first stone doesn’t disappoint.
Leaf counts to ten, then lets me put it down and pick up the next.
The third one hits me like a swarm of angry bees. I yelp, dropping the rutting crystal onto the bed. “What in the Dark God’s name?” I say through clenched teeth as I rub my hand.
“Was that anything like what you felt when Bahir’s ring touched you?” she asks.
I frown. “No. I mean, they both hurt, but it was nothing alike. What was that crystal?”
Leaf picks up the small orb. “Just a heat crystal, nothing special. But I tuned it to your blood. That is, I wove a triggerinto the magic, telling it to stay dormant until it feels your blood. The fascinating part is that it felt your blood through your skin. Not only that, but it’s glowing hotter than it ever has before.”
A chill runs through me. “I’m not a whisperer.”
“No, you’re not. But you are something.”
“What I am is a step away from being late for dinner,” I say with forced lightness. There is enough complication in my life without Leaf researching more. “Do you imagine Princess Raza will be as delightful this week as she was the last?” I say, pulling a black satin dress out of the closet. This one is cleverly designed to let the slippery material slide against itself instead of entangling my legs if I run, while still underscoring Lady Lianna’s soft curves and grace.
