Page 103 of To Touch A Silent Fury
All I had to do was glance to the sky, and his expression shifted.
He took a step back. “That’s what you think.”
I rolled my shoulders. “Do as you please. Throw away your hand for a tribal girl. It is your life.”
Then I turned away from him and put my hands into my pockets. My steps were slow and languid, and I whistled a silly bard’s tune about churning butter. To any onlookers, I was a prince enjoying a stroll through the gardens with nary a care in the world.
But my heart was skipping every third beat, and my pockets hid my shaking hands. I had to hope my brother was not serious.
I would wish any banner lord on Tanidwen before him. I wonder if Septillis realised what he had done: what my brothercoulddo. I would have to find some way to warn her, if he was truly ambitious enough to try. She deserved better than our family, and far better than the Wragg.
27
Tani
The castle’s main foyer sat well above the water level of the canals, its floors sparkling. A grand statue of a man, standing on a rock and gazing out, was in the centre. I wanted to get a closer look to confirm it to be the Founder Edrin, but the foyer was not my goal that day. I stepped down from the last carpeted step, keeping my head down. No one paid attention to me, and my soft slippers made no noise as I rounded the corner and continued to descend, down to where I would find the kitchens.
At least my clothing was as close to camouflage as I could find now. A courier delivered two laced tunics and two pleated, plain skirts, the same outfits I had seen on the maids. They gave me the freedom to roam without stares, and they allowed me to make good on Seth’s other favour.
The two clusters of beads left atop the pile, one in black and one in white, were also gratefully received. They were both dull glass and far less pretty than the beading I had worn before, butthey were an extra level to a costume I dearly coveted. I wore the black today, and it heightened my invisibility manifold. I welcomed them even as they irritated my face.
Gone?
His little voice flitted through my head, louder than normal.
I’ll be back soon.
Hurts.
I’m getting food,I responded, knowing that would settle him.
He made a discontented huff, but his next word was drowsy and more calm.Food.
His personality grew with each day, and his words grew too. Sometimes, when he was more alert, I felt him listening to my own thoughts, picking them apart to understand their meaning.
I smirked to myself as I reached the bottom of the stairs, a few feet above sea level and both louder and warmer. I followed the smell of rising dough and fresh fish, as my amusement turned to worry. He had begun to open his eyes more and move around the rooms. Last night, he blinked at me, and I saw the bright whites of my own eyes reflected back. He was growing restless, and even though he slept most of the day still, it would not be long before someone saw him awake and put the pieces together.
I was running out of time. Not just with the dragon, but with Langnathin. He had to choose a bride by the end of Tanmer, which was now only forty days away, and despite his strange kindness to me, I was hardly a marriageable candidate for him. Not yet.
Though, he had stood by his word. His brown-wrapped package of three books had been all that had saved me from an infernal boredom. I had never had time to be bored in Gossamir, staying alive had consumed all of my energy. But here, with comfortable quarters to protect me from the weather, and mealsand water readily delivered, there was nothing to do but bathe or sit in that pathetic excuse for a garden. Even enjoying the wonders of a scorching early Tanmer sun could only distract for so long, and I was ever aware of the men who watched me. This span of days had been a handful of comforts away from a cell.
The guards had let me venture into the castle today, but only because I had left my dragon behind. They knew enough of us to know I would not go far, or be gone long.
My thoughts spiralled as I stepped into the busy kitchens. Bustling men and women crowded the space, most of them with the deeper warm skin of the western lands. It was common for any good kitchen to have a cook from the Tastelands, and it seemed, here in the belly of Droundhaven’s palace, there were two spans of them.
I stepped out of the way of a man holding a giant peach tart and spun right into the back of someone else. I turned, ducking my head in apology. “Sorry, ma’am.”
Wide hips and a floury apron turned to me. Her thin brown hair was scraped back into a bun, and her face was stern and reddened.
“Off with yous, girl,” she said, flicking her hand, and there was no mistaking she was one of Dional’s people. Her voice bore all the hallmarks of a good Tastelands farming family, with its elongated ‘oo’ and harder ‘r’. “We’ve got a lot to prepare without a chambermaid under our feet.”
“My apologies, ma’am,” I replied. “My name is Vorska. I was hoping—”
“Vorska,” she interrupted. Then she gasped, and gawked at my face. “Your eyes. So it’s true, then.”
The relief of not having to explain myself contrasted quickly against the awareness that I had turned from one type of freak to entirely another. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I thought you a Barrowlands filly,” she said, squinting at my face as she referenced the southern stretch of the Tastelands. “You look right dark for a Euphon.”
