A shudder ran down her spine, but she forced herself to keep looking. She would not run from the curse. Eventually, she would have to face the Kish’aa. She would have to open her ears to listen to their cries.
But not now.
She turned to the Shalandran girl. “Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice. “For helping convince your father to help.”
“Kodyn did all the convincing,” Briana said with a little shrug of her slim shoulders. “And you, with your plan to play bodyguard. You sure you’re up for it, especially given my father’s plan for tonight?”
Arch-Guardian Suroth had departed to the Palace of Golden Eternity to inform the Pharus and the Keeper’s Council of Briana’s return. He’d fabricate something to explain her absence, but he had little doubt the Necroseti would know the truth—either they’d been behind it, or they knew of her capture by the Gatherers. And yet, he still intended to parade Briana through high society as if she’d just returned from a long voyage, pretending nothing had happened. All the better to throw off his enemies, he’d said.
Aisha raised an eyebrow. “You doubt our ability to protect you?”
Briana shook her head. “No, it’s just…” Her face burned a bright scarlet and her eyes failed to meet Aisha’s. A long moment passed before she spoke. “It’s pretty obvious how you feel about Kodyn.”
Aisha had trained for years to anticipate her enemy’s strikes, to spot attacks from the shadows, to be aware of attacks from behind. Yet still Briana’s words caught her totally by surprise.
“W-What?” Heat flushed her own cheeks.
Briana gave her a shy smile. “I don’t think Kodyn knows. Boys aren’t exactly the most perceptive when it comes to understanding feelings.”
Aisha gaped. The Briana speaking to her now bore little resemblance to the scared girl they’d rescued from the Gatherers less than a month ago.
“In the short time that I’ve known Kodyn,” Briana continued, “I’ve come to…appreciate the man he is. Noble, courageous, honest, clever—not what I’d expected of a thief. I’m sure you’ve seen the same things.”
It took Aisha a moment to recover enough to nod.
Briana fixed her with a solemn gaze. “I wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize your relationship.”
Aisha heard the “but” in those words—Briana clearly had feelings of her own for Kodyn. Turning back to the railing, Aisha stared out over the city of Shalandra. The view from the rooftop terrace was breathtaking; the third-story balcony gave her a clear view of the four lower tiers and the farmlands south of the wall. The bright afternoon sunlight washed everything in a golden glow.
The silence stretched on for long seconds before Aisha could speak. “You’re right.” She turned back to Briana. “About me and what I feel for Kodyn. But I have no claim on him. He’s free to do what he wants, to be with whoever he wants. Even if that person is not me.”
It felt so strange to say the words. In Ghandia, she and Briana would be fighting rather than speaking. A simpler, more direct approach to such a matter that could prevent it from becoming a problem. But Aisha’s time in Praamis had changed her. People did things differently here in the south. She wanted Kodyn to reciprocate her feelings, but couldn’t force the issue. Doing so could only drive him away, into Briana’s arms.
And, truth be told, she couldn’t fault Kodyn. Briana was beautiful, with her golden mahogany skin, well-proportioned features, and arrow-straight nose. The thick lines of kohl around her eyes accentuated the smoky-colored crushed malachite applied to her eyelids.
Aisha couldn’t help a moment of envy; the tight-fitting Shalandran dress accentuated Briana’s slim curves, which contrasted sharply with Aisha’s broad shoulders and heavy muscles. Briana had the elegance of a nobleman’s daughter and had proven herself an intelligent young woman. Aisha’s skill at arms paled in comparison to the wealth Briana could offer.
“I owe you my life,” Briana said, “both of you. You rescued me from the Gatherers and brought me safely home. Now, it turns out we’ll be spending even more time together. I wouldn’t want anything as silly as a boy to stop us from being friends.” Her face fell. “I don’t have a lot of those. It’s hard to make friends when you’re the daughter of a member of the Keeper’s Council. You never know if people are actually your friend for real or if they want something from you.”
She fixed Aisha with a piercing gaze. “But you’re not like that. With you, I know that what I see is what I’m going to get. That’s the sort of thing I’d love to have in a friend. I don’t want to waste the chance of a true friendship over a man, no matter how handsome or charming he is.”
Again, Aisha was struck by how different this new Briana was. There was still the same hint of shyness, but now she saw the truth of the Shalandran girl. Being the secret daughter of a Secret Keeper and one of the city’s highest-ranked people made her as much an interloper as Aisha had been in Praamis. Yet unlike Briana, Aisha had had people like Ria, Afia, and the others of House Phoenix—people of her own kind. Briana was an outlier searching desperately for a place to belong, just as Aisha was.
“I’d be honored to call you my friend, Briana of Shalandra.” Aisha gave the girl a warm smile and held out a hand. “Our feelings for Kodyn will never get in the way of that, I promise.”
Briana dodged the outstretched hand and threw her arms around Aisha’s waist. Though the Shalandran girl was small, her slim arms had surprising strength.
Aisha stiffened for a moment, caught off-guard, then allowed herself to relax and wrap her arms around Briana. She, too, was an outsider now, even among her own people. Ria had insisted she accompany Kodyn to Shalandra not only to keep him safe, but so she could find her destiny as a Spirit Whisperer. None of the others in House Phoenix, not even her fellow Ghandians, could understand the burden that rested on her shoulders. Perhaps, with friends like Kodyn and now Briana, she’d have someone to help bear the load.
Briana broke off the hug and fixed Aisha with a bright-eyed grin. “Come, let me show you my favorite part of the garden!” She grabbed Aisha’s hand and tugged her deeper into the garden.
Aisha followed, her eyes roaming the garden and instinctively analyzing it for any sign of threat. She might not have Kodyn’s skill at finding vulnerabilities in buildings, but she’d spent her life among the bushes, scrub, trees, and grasses of the Ghandian grasslands. She knew how an enemy could hide behind the trunk of that spikethorn tree or use the cover of this maidenhair tree’s leaves to slip closer. If Briana truly was in danger, Aisha would keep a wary eye on the rooftop garden.
Yet the Shalandran girl appeared to have lost the fearfulness instilled in her by her captivity. Here, among the nature of her father’s home, she finally seemed to be at ease. Her words flowed out in a happy torrent as she flitted between the various plants, shrubs, berry bushes, and trees, describing each in turn. Aisha barely heard the overload of information but she smiled, nodded, and added the appropriate exclamation of wonder.
Then, her eyes fell onto a patch of bright blue flowers, and it felt as if she’d run face-first into a wall.
Aisha stopped, her breath trapped in her lungs, and an icy chill ran down her spine. It can’t be! They shouldn’t be here.
But they were. No mistake, no trick of her imagination.
Her eyes fixed on the little flowers: four petals the color of a cloudless midday sky, with a hint of purple where they joined the delicate stalks. Even from here, she could imagine the smell—sweeter than desert roses, like the scent of belladonna, but with a sharper, spicier edge.
The same smell that had hung around her father every day since the madness claimed him.
Aisha found herself unable to move. The tiled walkway led right past the small patch of the flowers her mother had called “Whispering Lilies”. If she kept walking, she’d come close enough to brush the petals that had stolen her father from her.
“What’s wrong?” Briana’s question seemed to come from a thousand l
eagues away.
Aisha blinked, found the girl staring at her with worry furrowing her brow. “Those…flowers,” was all she managed to get out.
Briana turned to regard the little blue blossoms. “Oh, yes, they can be pretty nasty things. My father calls them Keeper’s Spike.” Her fingers moved to spell out the word in the hand gestures. “I think in the rest of Einan they’re known as Watcher’s Bloom.”
Watcher’s Bloom. To the Night Guild, the Watcher was the god of justice. Where is the justice in knowing that my father was driven insane by this very plant?
An Umoyahlebe from a neighboring tribe had given him a bundle of dried Whispering Lilies, claiming it could help Spirit Whisperers hear the words of the Kish’aa more clearly. It had done precisely that, but too well. For a year or so, he’d actually been more lucid, his mind clear when not using the flower. But slowly, inevitably, the madness of his gift not only returned, the flower had worsened it.
“Be careful with it,” Briana said, not seeming to notice the change in Aisha. “Even a single drop of the oil can cause powerful hallucinations.”
Aisha knew only too well the effects the plant could have. When her father applied the extract under his eyelids, he’d be lost in the world of the Kish’aa for hours, sometimes days.
Once, during his better days, he’d spoken to her of the gift. “The day will come when you, too, must answer the call of the spirits, bindazi.” Little gazelle, his pet name for her. “The Whispering Lily will attune you to the Kish’aa. On that day, you must be ready to make the sacrifice. It is the only way to hear what the spirits have to tell you. Attuned to them, you will feel their feelings, see through their eyes.”
She hadn’t understood what he’d meant by “sacrifice”, but now she did. He’d sacrificed his sanity for the sake of the spirits.
“Come on.” Briana plucked at Aisha’s hand and pulled her off the walkway, away from the bright blue flowers. “This way.”
Aisha allowed herself to be dragged along, her legs as numb as her mind.
Briana led her through a thick screen of dwarf palms and spineberry bushes. She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “In here.” With a quick glance around to make certain no one was around, she pulled Aisha through a thick hedge.
No, Aisha realized, not a hedge, but a dome. Leaves and vines climbed upward from the ground to form a natural dome a hand’s breadth above Aisha’s head. Purple-and-gold flowers filled the interior with dazzling color and a soft scent that brought back memories of running through the patches of aster that grew on the grasslands around her home.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Briana asked, her eyes bright.
Aisha nodded. “Truly, it is.”
“It reminds me of her, of my mother.” Briana’s smile didn’t waver, but a shadow passed over her eyes. “I never met her, but Father told me that these dewflowers were her favorite. Sometimes, when I’m here alone, I can imagine that she’s here with me.”
Aisha’s gut tightened. It’s not your imagination, she tried to say, but no words came out. A single wisp-like form hovered in the dome, a blue-white figure of a woman that seemed to float like a hummingbird between the flowers.
“What was her name?” Aisha finally managed, her eyes fixed on the spirit.
“Radiana,” Briana said in a quiet voice. “Father told me it means bright spirit in the language of the Secret Keepers.”
“Radiana,” Aisha echoed. As she’d feared, the ethereal form turned toward her. The spirit’s eyes seemed to glow brighter as she caught sight of Briana and her mouth formed words Aisha couldn’t hear.
Before her father had lost himself to the Kish’aa, he’d told her of the power of names. “Spirits are connected to us through our memories of them,” he’d explained. “Even after the image of their faces, the sound of their voices, the feeling of their warmth fades from our minds, we remember their names. Thus, it is those names that connect us to the Kish’aa.”
A lump rose to Aisha’s throat as the spirit’s eyes locked with hers. Radiana’s lips moved without a sound, but Aisha felt the emotions pouring from the spirit. So much love, all channeled through Aisha, as if the spark of Radiana’s life hoped that Aisha could pass that feeling on to Briana.
“If she were here,” Aisha forced out, her voice thick, “what would you say to her?”
Radiana’s ghostly gaze went to Briana and she floated over to wrap ethereal arms around her daughter’s shoulders.
Tears brimmed in Briana’s eyes. “I would say I’m sorry.” Her words came out barely above a whisper.
“Sorry?” Aisha’s brow furrowed.
“She died because of me,” Briana said. “I would want her to know how sorry I am for that.”
Aisha felt a sudden spike of Radiana’s emotions. “I believe your mother would tell you that she is proud of you.” Words poured from her mouth beyond her control. “Of the strong, brave young woman you’ve become. Of how you’ve cared for your father and brightened his life. And of all you will yet do.”
It seemed her feet moved of their own accord, as if drawn not toward Briana, but to the ethereal form floating above the girl. Aisha reached out a hand to rest on Briana’s shoulder, and Radiana’s spirit placed a ghostly hand atop hers. For that brief instant, the thoughts and feelings of Briana’s mother seeped into Aisha’s mind.
“And she would tell you that she loves you.” Aisha felt Radiana’s fingers squeezing Briana’s shoulders. “More than anything else, she wants you to know that.”
Tears streamed freely down Briana’s face, and Aisha couldn’t help the emotions roiling through her. She couldn’t tell if they were Radiana’s or her own—she could only pull Briana into a tight hug as the younger girl wept.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nervous tension coiled like a snake in Evren’s gut as he waited for the grey-haired woman—Nessa, Killian had called her—to finish reading the message from the blacksmith. He had no idea what it said, a fact that heightened his anxiety further, but whatever Killian had penned seemed to have a marked effect on the woman.
“You come highly recommended.” Nessa rolled up the scroll and turned a keen-eyed stare on Evren and Hailen. Her voice was crisp and commanding, edged with a hint of disapproval as she studied them. “Yet whether or not you can be trusted remains to be seen.”
Evren remained silent; the woman wouldn’t care what he said, only what he did. Killian had told them his recommendation—under another name, one he didn’t divulge—would get them in the door, but they’d have to earn their way.
“Under normal circumstances,” the Steward said, “you would go through a lengthy vetting process, but due to recent events, we will have to make do.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned over her broad oak desk, the centerpiece of her well-appointed office, to stare at them. “However, be warned: your every action will be scrutinized.”
Killian had warned him of the keen-eyed Steward. “Nessa will keep a close eye on you,” the blacksmith had said. “If you do anything suspicious, she’ll pounce on it like a cat on a dead mouse. Be very sure your plan to steal the Blade of Hallar is foolproof before making a move. You’ve got one chance with Nessa.”
“I do not make threats,” the grey-haired woman said, narrowing her eyes, “but you have my word as an Intaji that I will not simply dismiss you at the first sign of anything untoward. You wouldn’t be the first servants I’ve had flogged in Murder Square for betraying my master.”
“I understand.” Evren nodded and held her gaze, though his gut clenched beneath her hawk-like stare. She might look like a friendly grandmother, but in this case, looks are very deceiving.
“My brother and I just want to earn our keep in service to the Arch-Guardian,” Evren said aloud.
Nessa cocked an eyebrow at Hailen. “Your…brother will serve as the young mistress Briana’s personal varlet until I can find a suitable maidservant to fill the role.” She fixed him with a critical eye. “As for you, I believe the role of att
endant will suit you well.”
Evren nodded. “Glad to serve wherever I am needed.”
Nessa didn’t quite snort—it was more of a snuff of derision. “We shall see about that."
She rang a little bell on her desk, and a moment later a compact man with a red-and-gold headband entered the room.
“Cavad, see that the younger one is sent to Zuima on the upper floor. He is to serve as Mistress Briana’s varlet.”
“Of course, Steward.” The man bowed.
“But first, take the older one to Samall.” A grim smile played on Nessa’s lips, her eyes on Evren. “And if he proves anything less than efficient, make it clear that I expect Samall to whip him into shape.”
Evren’s gut clenched as he and Hailen followed the servant Cavad from the Steward’s simple yet tastefully furnished office.
The office was located in the rear of the mansion, well away from the lavish ballrooms, grand staircases, and upper-floor wings where the Dhukari lived. Back here, in the section of the estate the masters never went, the halls were simple sandstone with bare walls and floors, compact doorways, and doors designed more for soundproofing and privacy than luxury.
The servant, Cavad, led Evren through the narrow corridors toward the southern end of the mansion. “Piece of advice,” the man whispered. “Mouth shut and eyes down. Give Samall no cause for complaint and you will be fine.”
Evren nodded. “Thank you.”
He turned to Hailen. “You got this?” he whispered.
Hailen nodded. “Yes.”
“Remember what I told you.” Evren fixed him with a stern frown. “Say as little as possible about yourself, and only speak when spoken to. We’re servants now, as beneath notice as a chair or rug. Do nothing to draw attention to yourself.”
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