Unlit_A Kingdoms of Earth & Air Novel

by Keri Arthur

  I snorted softly and rose up on my toes to drop a kiss on his cheek. “You’re right. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I really need to make the most of it.”

  “Right,” April said. “Now that’s settled, let’s go have sex.”

  I rolled my eyes and met Ava’s amused gaze. “You two go. I need a shower and some alone time.”

  She squeezed my arm in understanding, then pushed April toward the door. “You heard her, out.”

  “Bossy as well as condescending,” he murmured. “Just as well I love your body.”

  She snorted and lightly smacked the back of his head. As their footsteps disappeared down the walkway, I stripped off, stowed my blaster and knife in my locker, and then headed into the bathroom. But a long, hot shower did nothing to shake the certainty that something beyond my comprehension was happening. I felt like a pawn in a game of chess, one where the players were hidden and I had no idea who were the white pieces and who were black.

  Sleep was slow in coming, and once again haunted by the wind, although if she trying to warn me about something, it remained unclear.

  The following morning another courier intercepted my path back to the bunkhouse, although this time he was clad in dark green that was shot with gold. Not the Rossi but still a ruling house, I suspected.

  “Neve March,” he said, with a slight bow. “I have a parcel for you.”

  Said parcel was gorgeously wrapped in pale gold silk. I touched it, briefly and in awe, and then jerked my hand away lest the rough skin on my fingertips catch the material. “Are you sure it’s for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “But who would be sending me such a thing? What house wears these colors?”

  “There’s a letter inside, Miss March. That’s all I am allowed to say.”

  It was a statement that raised a whole lot more questions but I reluctantly accepted the parcel. The courier bowed again and walked off.

  “For freedom’s sake, what is it this time?” April said, as I walked into our room.

  “A present of some kind.” I stopped at my bunk and sat down.

  Ava perched beside me and ran her fingers carefully across the top of it. “The material is as fine as I’ve ever seen. Who sent it? The Rossis?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not their colors.”

  “Then whose?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And won’t until you open the thing,” April said, ever practical.

  I hesitated, then flipped the parcel over and carefully undid the ties holding it together. The golden material fell away to reveal a dress—a dress that was pale lavender gray, the same color as my stains and had obviously been designed to blend with them. Underneath it was a mask in the same color but intricately patterned with a deep gold, and a silk belt that had the same colors, but ended in a knot of deep green. The same color, I thought, that the courier had worn.

  “Oh my,” Ava whispered. “That’s beautiful.”

  Yes, it was, and even as I placed the dress carefully to one side and picked up the note underneath the mask, I suspected who’d sent it.

  From one reluctant participant to another, the note said. Your carriage will be waiting at seven tonight.

  Ava frowned at the note. “That’s rather cryptic, isn’t it?”

  “Not to the man who sent it.”

  “Does that man have a name?” April asked. “Or are we expected to beg for such morsels?”

  I screwed up the note and tossed it at him. “Idiot.”

  “That is no answer but a fact,” Ava commented. “Give, sister.”

  I drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I believe the dress comes from Trey Stone.”

  “My, my, you are walking in exalted circles these days, aren’t you?” April said. “Care to direct a little highfaluting tail my way sometime?”

  “It’s not as if I’ve gotten any such tail, so it’s unlikely I’ll be able to cast any your way.”

  “So, if you’re not getting any, why would the firstborn son of a ruling house be sending you a dress?”

  Trey was the firstborn? Then why on earth was he at Blacklake, let alone its commander? “Because he’s the prime at Blacklake, and was involved in Saska’s recovery. If this note is to be believed, he’s been ordered to this shindig and is just as reluctant as me.”

  “I can’t believe that,” April said. “Although it is rather odd for a firstborn son to be sent to an outpost in any capacity. Those in the upper class usually avoid real work like the plague.”

  I placed the mask on the bed then rose and gingerly draped the dress against my body. It was an off-the-shoulder design, with a full sleeve to cover my stained and scarred left arm while leaving my right arm and shoulder exposed. The swooping material barely covered my breasts, and the left side of the long skirt was slit to my hip. Every move I made would reveal plenty of unstained leg while hiding the other. The silky soft, translucent material would skim my body beautifully, emphasizing my curves while—via discreetly placed panels—leaving me some modesty.

  “They’ll think they’re in a presence of a goddess,” Ava murmured, eyes shining with appreciation.

  “Only if you’re there with me.”

  She snorted. “If you don’t come away with a generous patron after this, I’ll eat my helmet.”

  “I don’t want a patron, in any capacity.”

  She smacked my leg. “Don’t be an idiot. You can’t be a Nightwatch forever. What are you going to do when retirement beckons?”

  I thought of the bracelet in my locker and smiled. “Buy myself a small allotment far away from Winterborne. I might even invite you two along, if you promise to behave.”

  “I’ll certainly visit if you do achieve such an aim,” Ava said, “but I, for one, intend to end my days living a higher lifestyle.”

  “Which is why you’re currently fooling around with a cook on your days off,” April commented. “That makes perfectly good sense.”

  Ava shot him a look that would have put a lesser man well and truly in his place. April merely grinned.

  “That cook is about to take up a position in the Fisk house as junior pâtissier,” she said with a sweetness that belied the ice in her eyes. “As his current bedmate, I will be given visiting access into the Lower Reaches and therefore be in full view of the non-ruling houses who inhabit that place. How hard do you think it’ll be to attract their attention once I set my mind to it?”

  “You, my dear, are a schemer,” April said. “It makes me so proud.”

  She snorted. “Yes, because you have such a long history of successful schemes behind you.”

  “You cannot win if you do not first lose, my sweet.”

  Ava blinked. “That sounded almost… philosophical.”

  He grinned. “I know. Amazing, right?”

  She shook her head and then returned her gaze to me—or rather, to my hair. “What are you going to do with this?” She brushed her fingers through the short, wavy strands, her expression thoughtful.

  I shrugged. “There’s nothing that can be done with it.”

  “You could get some of those color fudges the unlit teenagers in state care have been using of late,” April said. “A streak or two of gold would look quite pretty.”

  “That,” Ava said, glancing at him incredulously, “is a damn good idea. Off you go.”

  “What about sleep? And sex?”

  “The former can happen after we’ve got the supplies to gussy up our girl for tonight,” she said. “As for the latter, I’ll book a double period for the coupling room for us tomorrow morning.”

  “Ha! Done deal.” He departed, whistling cheerfully.

  “Whoever that man eventually falls for is going to be one lucky person,” Ava murmured. Her gaze returned to mine, and the amusement in her dark eyes faded. “Are you okay?”

  I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I’m scared out of my tiny little mind—not so much by the thought that I’ll be treated as s
ome sort of novelty or freak, but by whatever is coming.”

  She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and hugged me gently. “It is not as if the wind has often spoken truly to you,” she said. “It is more than likely she merely teases now.”

  “I know.” Just as I knew she wasn’t teasing, and that her fears were as real as mine.

  “Then stop with this nonsense, ignore the wind, and try to get some sleep today.” She pulled back and brushed some stray strands of hair from my eyes. “You can’t be having shadows under your eyes at such a fancy shindig.”

  A smile teased my lips. “It doesn’t matter if I do, because they won’t see them thanks to the mask.”

  “That,” she replied sternly, “is not the point. Now get your ass into that shower then climb into bed. I’ll ensure no one disturbs you.”

  I did as ordered. And for the first time in days, the wind didn’t enter my dreams. Maybe she’d heard the unspoken threat in Ava’s voice.

  I was alone when seven o’clock ticked around. The Nightwatch drew duty from six to six, and I couldn’t help but wish I was with them rather than heading off to some grand house for a celebration I had no desire to attend. I wasn’t one of them and, once the mask came off—as it inevitably would—I’d be viewed as nothing more than a curiosity. And, despite my words to Ava, I had absolutely no desire to be courted or bedded because I was different—been there, done that with Mak.

  Perhaps I could sneak out after the official introductions and thank-yous were done. Celebrations here in the outer bailey wouldn’t kick off until the autumn equinox, which this year fell on Thursday—three days away. Surely that was enough time to satisfy the Rossis’ sense of appreciation?

  I took a deep breath then pushed away from my bunk. If I delayed much longer, someone would be sent to fetch me. It would be better to appear a willing participant; anything else would just get the gossips going—and there was enough of that already. I gathered the bag containing enough clothes and toiletries to get me through the upcoming days, and then slipped my feet into my flats. Although shoes were frowned upon at any harvest festival, I wasn’t about to stride across the grime of both the stairs and the bailey barefoot. I doubted there’d be a footbath in the carriage.

  With the mask dangling from one hand, I headed out. The wind stirred around me, as cold and uneasy as I felt. But she wasn’t talking to me, wasn’t telling me what she feared. Maybe she didn’t know. Or maybe she was merely amplifying the doubts and fears that were already mine.

  Those doubts and fears increased greatly when I discovered it wasn’t only the carriage waiting for me, but Trey Stone himself.

  I stopped abruptly. “Why are you here, Commander?”

  He was wearing a loose, dark green shirt that was as sheer as my dress and allowed teasing glimpses of the lean but muscular body underneath. His trousers were the same color but made of a thicker material that hugged his legs from thighs to knees before falling loosely to his bare brown feet. There was a green silk belt around his waist, but it ended in a knot of lavender the same color as my dress.

  “I told you I’d be here at seven.” His gaze skimmed me, and appreciation stirred through his eyes. “That dress is rather becoming on you, March.”

  “You said the carriage would be here. There was no mention that you’d be with it.” I hesitated, knowing I sounded rather ungrateful. “But thank you for the gift, although you shouldn’t have done it. It has set too many tongues a-wagging.”

  “Good, because that was part of the intent.” He held out one hand. “Come along, I won’t bite.”

  I forced my feet down the rest of the stairs and somewhat reluctantly accepted his help into the carriage. His skin, like mine, was slightly rough, and yet it in no way felt unpleasant. There was great strength in those hands, just as, I suspected, there was great strength in the man.

  The carriage was specifically designed for two people, with one seat on each side of it. I took the one facing the driver so that I might see the grand houses as they approached, then kicked off my shoes and tucked them into my bag. The commander climbed into the other seat, then reached back and knocked on the carriage wall separating us from the driver.

  “We’re good, thanks, Bernie.”

  The carriage moved forward smoothly, her engines emitting little more than a soft purr. I resisted the urge to cross my arms and tried to relax into the seat. But it was a hard thing to achieve when that nebulous, earthy energy was stirring between us once again.

  “Why are you here, Commander? What game are you playing?”

  His smile teased the corners of his bright eyes. They looked almost emerald in this light—rich, warm, and friendly. But there was also a tension in him, one that spoke of a warrior ready for battle. Not against me, although I rather suspected I would play some part in it.

  “Oh, there are plenty of games afoot, but I’m certainly not involved in them thus far.” He pressed a button to his left and a door slid aside, revealing an ornate green flask and several glasses. “Drink?”

  I shook my head. The way my stomach was currently churning, I’d probably bring it right back up.

  “I gather you now have every intention of getting involved.”

  “Yes.” He poured himself a drink then contemplated me over the top of the glass. “And I want you to help me.”

  “Commander, I’m unlit and out of place amongst your kind. I could never—”

  “Could never what? Have fun? Enjoy yourself?”

  I smiled wryly. “I’m thinking that’s not the sort of help you’re wanting.”

  “In part, it is.” He stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. “As an unlit, you have no allegiances, no enemies, and no stake in whatever is happening. You’ll see things I never will, by virtue of the fact that you’re untainted and untouched by everything that is the twelve houses. I need that if we are to stop whatever is coming.”

  The wind stirred past me, telling me to listen, to help. I frowned. “What do you think might be coming?”

  “War. But not, perhaps, the type we have been expecting for nigh on five hundred years.” A hint of anger crept into his voice. “Those Adlin did not learn to make the beacons or trebuchets by themselves.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Surely you don’t think someone from the twelve houses is working with them?”

  “Right now, I’m unsure what to think. But something is going on; there’ve been too many troubling incidents of late. Someone needs to investigate whether they stem merely from courtly machinations, or something far more dangerous.”

  “Why has the job fallen to you? Is it because of your position at Blacklake?”

  Another smile teased his lips, but one that held a bitter edge. “For the most part, yes. But I’m not here in any official capacity. I haven’t spoken to anyone at the Forum, and only my father knows the true depth of my fears.”

  “And what does he think?”

  Something close to pain stirred through his expression. “He thinks me a fool. But then, that is an opinion he’s long held.”

  While it was not unusual for a son to fall out with his father, it appeared there was something deeper than a mere difference of opinion behind this particular event.

  I glanced outside for a moment, noting we’d already moved through the inner gatehouse and were slowly making our way up the wide but twisting road that led up to the plateau of the ruling houses. The accommodation in this lowest section was mainly multilevel terraced housing, and was little bigger than the bunkhouse I lived in. For the most part, it contained those freemen who served but weren’t bound to any of the ruling houses—blacksmiths, weavers and millinery folk, carpenters, even ladies and men of ease. Interspersed with these houses were the workplaces for the various crafts. As we moved farther up the hill, we’d come to the homes of those with personal magic—the healers, illusionists, the bards, and the danseuse. Only once we’d gone through a secondary gate that was more decorative than defensive would we reach the estat
es of the lower ruling houses and the plateau.

  I reluctantly returned my gaze to his. “Is that why the firstborn son of a ruling house has accepted a position at an outpost rather than taking his rightful position at the Forum?”

  A smile ghosted his lips. “You’ve been checking up on me.”

  “The minute this dress arrived. But it’s not like anyone within the Nightwatch was able to tell me much.”

  “Quite rightly, I would think.”

  “And in that statement lies the arrogance of a ruling house.”

  His smile grew. “And that propensity to not hold back is the very reason I wish your help.”

  “It’s a propensity that has gotten me into trouble more often than not. And you didn’t answer my question, Commander.”

  “No.” Though his expression gave little away, there was an odd mix of sadness and anger emanating from him. “I ceded my position as my father’s second in the Forum to my younger brother Karl. It is he who now carries the weight of family expectations.”

  “Then why haven’t you confided your suspicions to him?”

  “Because it makes little sense to burden him further until I have proof. I hope to either gather that confirmation within the next five days, or be able to acknowledge it for the stupidity my father thinks it is.”

  The wind didn’t think it was stupidity. I rather suspected the earth didn’t, either. Why else would he be here? He might be stationed a long way from Winterborne, but the earth was an unbroken connection that ran between the two. If he was a powerful enough earth witch—and I very much suspected he was—then he would hear the tales of this place not only through the connection of the stone, earth, and metal elements that made up so much of the buildings within Winterborne, but also through movement of people across the land itself.

  “So what is it, exactly, that you wish me to do?”

  “Tonight is the unofficial portion of the masque. It is a night for introductions and seductions, a night where nothing more than a good time should be had.”

  “If I’m to bed anyone, Commander, it’ll be because I desire it, not because you wish me to.”