As much as she hated to do it, Lynthalsea agreed. Nothing Avari had tried on had flattered her. She was probably right; a well-made pair of silk pants could answer their problems.
The pair turned down a side street, looking for a cafe that was not crowded with aristocrats having mid-afternoon tea. Traffic was light here, and the shops not quite so fancy. Several doorways down was a small wooden sign introducing 'Miss Sheldon, Custom Seamstress, Quick Work a Specialty'.
"Let's go in here," Avari suggested as she rubbed the hazy glass for a better look inside. "I'll get fitted for some pants, and maybe they'll be done by the time we finish lunch."
Lynthalsea followed the tall woman through the door, quite beyond arguing. Bells tinkled to announce their arrival, and a short, chubby woman, obviously Miss Sheldon, bustled out of the back to greet her customers.
"Hello there!" she called, giving them a cheery wave. "Are you just browsing, or is there something in particular I can help you with?"
"I need a pair of pants or pantaloons to wear to a court ball tonight," Avari said as she fingered a bolt of silk that lay strewn across a table. Several more bolts were stacked in racks, and mannequins stood everywhere, several partially clad or bare. In fact, there was not a complete dress in the entire shop.
"Oh, but dearie, you'll want gown for that!" The woman's face drooped into a distraught bundle of wrinkled frowns. "Don't you want to look beautiful for your special fellow?"
Lynthalsea laughed, but Avari only blushed.
"He's not my special fellow, just someone I have business with."
"He must be a little special," Miss Sheldon said, an impish smile scrinching her face into even more wrinkles. "Not just anyone gets invited to this hoopla, you know. Although, for my tastes, it's just a bit overdone, if you know what I mean."
Miss Sheldon hurried over, took Avari's cloak, and even snatched up Gaulengil before she could protest and laid it to one side. She held Avari at arm's length, turned her around, then back again, all the while taking measurements and muttering.
"That's good, that's good... well, that can be taken care of... so tall, how different! Yes, well no corset for you! Stomach as flat as a washboard! Yes, I do believe I have an idea."
"Excuse me?" Avari had been trying to follow, but could only catch a word here and there as she was gently man-handled.
"Sweetie, won't you please let me make you a gown?" Miss Sheldon's pleading eyes begged her with a mischievous glint.
"We need the dress tonight," Lynthalsea reminded.
"I've tried on dresses all day," Avari said. "None looked good or fit right, and my shoulders nearly ripped the seams out of some of them. I think I'd do better with pants and a blouse."
"I'll make you a beautiful pant outfit," Miss Sheldon said as she circled Avari with the string again, measuring here and there, "if you let me make you a gown first. If you don't like it, I'll have the pants for you in plenty of time, and only charge you for the material."
"Why would you want to bother?" Avari asked, confused. "It's just extra work―"
"It's a challenge!" Miss Sheldon said, eyes twinkling like blue fire. "The challenges in life keep our minds sharp. Now go on with you! From the sounds of your stomach, you haven't eaten since dawn. Come back in an hour!"
Before they could protest that a single hour was not nearly enough time to fashion a gown, Avari and Lynthalsea were whisked out the door.
"DoHeney would have liked that meal," Avari said, patting her stomach and pushing her clean plate away. "However, I've noticed that Shay's tastes favor something a little more delicate. Rather like his taste in women, wouldn't you say?" Avari snickered at the elf's blush.
"Shay is an entertaining companion, a good friend, and I owe him my life." Lynthalsea said, as if she had reason to explain.
"He's the best friend I've ever had," Avari declared, "but I think he would like to be an even closer friend to you."
"Avari, please do not think that I encourage him. I—"
"Lynthalsea, I wish you would encourage him. I love him dearly, but only as a friend. Don't think it will bother me if you return his affections. Besides, I don't think he realizes that he looks at you the way most women look at him." Avari chuckled, then leaned across the table.
"So, why don't you encourage him?" she asked, unsure why she was feeling such a kinship to the woman she had resented only days ago. Perhaps it had been their morning together; they had endured a baptism by shopping.
"It's not as simple as you think," Lynthalsea said.
"To encourage him?" Avari asked. "I have no great experience with men, but I don't think Shay needs much encouragement."
"It's not that," Lynthalsea said, looking uncomfortable. "I like Shay very much, and I’d like our relationship to grow, but only platonically. You must understand. He must understand."
"But—"
"There are reasons, Avari," Lynthalsea said with a rueful smile. "But sometimes they are better kept secret."
Avari shrugged and nodded in feigned understanding, but Lynthalsea's answers had only made her more curious.
Avari gazed at her reflection, amazed at what Miss Sheldon had wrought in the span of only one hour. She could scarcely believe that the dress fit, much less that she liked it.
"It's beautiful," Lynthalsea said as she ran her hands over the shimmering material. "But how in the world did you make this in only one hour?"
"Everyone's got their secrets, sweetie, and I'll not be giving away mine. But mostly, when I get caught up in a project, time seems to stand still." Miss Sheldon bustled around Avari, removing a pin here, taking a stitch there.
Lynthalsea nodded, but silently wondered if the hyperactive seamstress might be more than she actually appeared—a dappled lightning sprite, perhaps.
"Now listen to me." Miss Sheldon bustled to a display and returned with some long strings of gold. "You'll want your hair up, you see. I know just the person to help you with it. And, of course you need proper shoes. There's Miss Delfie's shop eight doors down for that." She handed the strings to Lynthalsea, then fiddled with the dress until it fell to her satisfaction.
"There!" Finished, Miss Sheldon stepped back to view her creation. "If I may say so myself, you are going to be the most beautiful woman at court tonight."
Avari watched her reflection pale. Between the conversation at lunch and Miss Sheldon's manner, Avari had completely forgotten the reason why she had been looking for a gown in the first place. But it was too late to back out now.
CHAPTER 8
Shay's foot tapped impatiently, his fingers gripping the balcony railing as if strangling it. He glanced down again at the waiting carriage, then over his shoulder where DoHeney paced and mumbled in dwarvish. Half an hour had passed since the carriage had arrived. Avari and Lynthalsea, and an entourage of hairdressers and handmaidens, had been locked in the elf's room for over two hours. Captain Yenjil Thallon was not a man to be kept waiting. Shay threw his hands up in aggravation, strode into the sitting room and knocked firmly on Lynthalsea's door.
"Enough, Avari," he said, trying for a tone that would not upset her. "Your escort has been waiting for half an hour. This is not the proper way to—" Shay jumped as the door opened.
Avari glided out and stopped, a pillar of glittering radiance towering over him by no less than a hundred feet. She placed one glistening hand upon his chest and pushed him aside.
"Excuse me, Shay," she said, her tone measured. "I don't want to keep the captain waiting."
Shay's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, a retort dying on his lips as he wondered over her transformation. DoHeney stood as if in shock, his eyes wide with amazement.
The gown was, it seemed, spun of purest gold. A loose cowl draped at her neck, hinting at décolletage, then arched in glittering folds over her shoulders to cascade down her bare back in a golden waterfall. The torso, waist and hips hugged her athletic figure, revealing curves previously hidden beneath loose linen and chain mail. The
hem fell to within a hair's breadth of the floor, but was slit to her knee along the left side, revealing a muscular calf entwined in gold ribbon. Compared to the other fashions they had seen, it was a simple gown; simple like a rose, simple like a waterfall, simple like a gleaming golden sword.
Avari's accessories were modest: crescents of gold hung from her ears, glittering in the curls of the intricate coiffure of her hair. A four-carat emerald pendant rested below the hollow of her throat, intensifying her green eyes. Soft gilded gloves reached to her elbows—an elegant concealment of the scars and calluses of a horse-farmer—and a tiny golden dagger in a jeweled sheath was strapped to her arm, a concession to Avari's refusal to be unarmed.
"Quite remarkable," Shay said when he found his voice.
"Thank you, Shay. I think we have done quite well, myself." Lynthalsea and the servants all grinned their approval. She held a stole of golden fur, the final touch for Avari's metamorphosis.
Avari strolled over to DoHeney as if practicing with the unfamiliar shoes, the revealing neckline and her frightfully bare back. His eyes were glazed as he stared up at her, and his mouth hung open in a most unattractive manner.
"Stop it!" she said, whacking him with the back of her hand.
"Wha—? Wha'd I do?"
"Avari." Lynthalsea's reproval brought the warrioress back, her steps measured, but less smooth. The elf draped the stole over Avari's shoulders. "Remember: be confident, watch the other women and follow their lead, take small steps so your dress won't tear, and please, do not hit anyone for staring at you."
Avari nodded, then lifted her head high, bestowed a gracious—and clearly feigned—smile on everyone, and glided out the door and down the stairs to the waiting carriage.
Lynthalsea walked onto the balcony just as the carriage pulled away, her eyes twinkling with satisfaction.
"An amazing feat," Shay complimented as he joined her.
"For the first time since Zellohar, Avari's mind is occupied with something other than death, anger and guilt." Lynthalsea turned to Shay and favored him with a smile that left his heart racing. "For that, both of us should be satisfied.
"DoHeney," she said as she passed him on the way to her room, "you can close your mouth and start blinking now."
As sunlight faded, the Shadowknives inched their way closer to the Kindly Ki-rin. They had detailed descriptions of their quarry, thanks to a kindly servant boy whose body lay cooling in the stable. Dart smiled; each assassin had a specific target and a pre-arranged attack position. Soon blood would flow and hearts would cease to beat. Lord Darkmist would be pleased.
As he signaled his team, his plan suddenly changed. A tall, muscular woman in a glittering golden gown left the inn; despite the dress, she had to be the one they hunted. As she climbed into a waiting carriage, Dart flashed an order to Stiletto, her assigned assailant, who leapt and rolled under it, grasping the frame.
He watched the vehicle roll away, confident that Stiletto would succeed; the woman had been unarmed and unaware. If the others were as careless, the lost gems would be back in the hands of Iveron Darkmist by morning.
His eyes opened in the darkness.
Every day of his life, an instinctive diurnal sense woke him moments before dawn, but here, dawn never came. So whether he slept for a day or only minutes at a time, he could not know.
His slumber had been disturbed by the jingle of keys, then the glare of torchlight as the door to his cell opened. A bowl of water and another greasy haunch were placed just within reach. He yelled for the jailer to stay, but his plea was in vain.
He snatched up the morsel, lest a rat make off with it. Strange, he had thought with his first bite of the foul meat, how hunger makes even garbage taste like manna. Some of the meat was edible, the water stale but potable.
The next intrusion brought water, the third, water and meat. The donations were welcome for the pattern they provided, if not for their sustenance. In his estimation the water was given morning and evening, the meat on every other. Now he could keep track of the days by the number of bones he collected, and some of the bones were thick and strong enough to shape into tools and weapons; crude, but good enough to kill rats.
But now something else troubled him: more disquieting than being oblivious to time, more disturbing than not knowing his captors, and more frightening than his loss of memory. What plagued him now, through every waking hour and much of his sleep, was that he was beginning to remember.
Avari swallowed and wished for something to moisten her parched throat. Her carriage had rumbled to a stop minutes ago, the newest in the line that wound up the torch-lit drive to the palace. She thought about getting out and walking—it would take less time—but forced herself to settle back and wait.
The carriage crept forward, and Avari fidgeted.
Finally it was her turn. Avari grasped the door handle in preparation, then caught her breath as the carriage rounded the corner and the Royal Pavilion loomed into sight.
Lanterns hung from brass poles, torches lined the walkway, and glow crystals flickered in the trees. Light reflected off the white marble pillars and stairs, making the area as bright as day. Rainbows danced over the smooth stone surfaces as light from inside the pavilion refracted from crystal chandeliers. The effect was overwhelming and, of course, intentional; the visitor emerged from the dark drive into the light of the royal presence. Avari blinked to adjust her eyes.
She felt a tug on her arm. Still partially blinded, Avari peered out the window, then felt another tug. Foolishly, she still gripped the door handle, while the attendant struggled to open the door from outside. She let go and he almost fell backward.
"It must have stuck," Avari explained. She prepared to exit when a hand, palm up, was proffered.
Damn! Avari thought. They didn't tell me I'd need money for the attendants! She looked wildly around the carriage interior for some sort of currency before realizing her error.
Avari, she scolded as she put her hand into the attendant's and stepped out of the carriage, calm down and pay atten—
A yelp caught in her throat as her shoe slipped on the step. She heard a soft ripping noise as she fell forward; her dress must have caught on the carriage stair. The attendant performed admirably, catching her before she hit the ground. As she regained her feet, he apologized for the intimate embrace.
Avari glanced around. At least no one burst out laughing. She took a deep breath and relaxed her tight neck and shoulder muscles. With a supreme effort, she managed to smile graciously at the attendant.
"Thank you for your help. I very much appreciate it." Her jaw clamped like a vice, she ascended the red-carpeted stairs.
Well, this evening is starting out just the way I thought it would, she fumed. Dear Gods of Light, she prayed as she took measured steps past the watchful guards in full regalia, if you never do anything else for me again, please let me survive this night without falling on my face.
Damn the blasted light into the darkest depths of Pergamon's pit! Stiletto swore, grasping the carriage frame as the vehicle rolled, back into the soothing darkness. Spots still swam before his eyes, and rage furrowed his tattooed brow at missing such an easy opportunity. The light had ruined the aim of his dagger stroke; his envenomed namesake pierced only the hem of her gown instead of her leg. Fortunately, she had not seemed to notice the small rip, allowing him to escape notice.
There was no chance of attacking her in the open; there were too many guards and far too much light. Stiletto crouched against the inner rim of the carriage wheel, a darker shadow among shadows. Collecting his patience to wait, he knew that his quarry would eventually return.
CHAPTER 9
Your name, milady?"
The doorman smiled, but also subtly blocked the entrance. For the first time, Avari realized that she was the only unescorted woman here. What if she was not on the guest list? Would they throw her out? Arrest her? Toss her in the dungeons?
Avari unclenched her jaw, said, "My name
is Avari; I was invited by Captain Thallon," reclenched her jaw and held her breath. The Captain's name evoked an immediate response.
"Ah, yes. You are expected." The doorman smiled, his stylus snick-snicking her name off of a lengthy list.
Avari breathed.
With a snap of his fingers, a servant appeared to relieve her of her stole. Avari relinquished the wrap reluctantly, so conscious was she of her bare back. A cool breeze from outside sent chills down her spine. The doorman snapped again and an usher—half a head shorter than her—appeared from nowhere.
"Nosh, this is Lady Avari. Escort her to Captain Thallon."
Confident, relaxed, confident... she thought, taking Nosh's arm and allowing herself to be led toward the ballroom.
At the threshold, however, she balked, standing in stark horror as her worst nightmare unfolded before her eyes. Around the room stood more lace and finery than she had seen during her entire shopping expedition with Lynthalsea. Every color of the rainbow and every conceivable design whirled before her. A gentle touch snapped her back to reality.
"Milady, please!" Nosh said, his voice sounding pinched. Her grip on his forearm was just short of cracking the bone.
Avari relaxed her grip and motioned him on. Resisting the urge to bolt, she held her head high and strode confidently into the throng. The walk across the ballroom took several lifetimes, and with every step she felt more and more like everyone was staring at her. Had she realized just how accurate her intuition was, she really would have bolted for cover, but none of the gazes held the scorn she presumed. Elbows dug into ribs as wives and consorts judged their mates' attention too-long diverted.
Nosh headed for a small group near the dais at the end of the room. Once there, he tapped the braid-dressed shoulder of one of the men. Avari sighed in relief when Captain Thallon turned and greeted her with a wide-eyed grin; at last, a familiar face.
"Miss Avari! I am delighted that you decided to accept my invitation after all. From our conversation yesterday, I had my doubts." He accepted her gloved hand from Nosh, then astonished her by bowing to kiss it.
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