Emissary

by Fiona McIntosh

  Pez’s screams were legendary and to be avoided at all cost. The Elim grabbed for him and covered his mouth. He continued to struggle despite their strength, as it disguised the shudder he felt at the insistent probing.

  Desperate to break the link with the demon, Pez allowed his body to become peaceful as he began to count backward in Derranese, loudly, each number interspersed with spitting gobs of whatever he could muster directly at the Grand Vizier’s beautifully crafted darkwood table. He hadn’t been in the Vizier’s chambers before, but Lazar had told him how vulgar and ostentatious the whole setup had been under Tariq. Well, there was no sign of Tariq here, Pez thought, spitting forcefully at the exquisite table, just one of several simple, priceless, and supremely elegant pieces that sparsely furnished the huge chamber.

  “Stop that!” Maliz yelled, and Pez finally sensed that the probing magic’s link had been broken. He silently sighed his relief as he continued to count and spit.

  “Grand Vizier. Pez must not be shouted at.”

  “Can you not stop him behaving so?” Maliz demanded, impotent fury evident in his tone.

  “We could remove him.”

  Pez suddenly stopped counting, issuing a soft sound of remorse instead. Everyone’s glances were drawn helplessly to where he sat staring at the widening puddle around his satin trousers.

  “Oh, Zarab save me!” Maliz exclaimed, both astonished and angered. “Get him out of here and have that filthy mess cleaned up.”

  “Yes, Grand Vizier,” both Elim murmured, stifling their amusement.

  “I want to stay here!” Pez screamed as the men bent to lift him. “I haven’t finished yet.”

  “Get him out!” the Grand Vizier roared, his thunderous expression exclaiming that he was determined nothing further was going to be released from the dwarf ’s body into his chamber.

  The men rushed Pez from the scene of his crime, dangling him between them in their haste to get him clear of the Grand Vizier’s wrath. After closing the door, they put him back onto his own short legs and gave rueful glances at the damp trousers he stood in.

  “I’m uncomfortable,” he complained.

  “That wasn’t wise, Pez,” one continued.

  “I had plans to leave something bigger behind,” the dwarf said before gently shaking himself clear of his escorts’ hands and fleeing down the corridor. There was no time to even think about what had just occurred or the hideously precarious situation in which he now found himself. It was Ana who was in danger now and he’d already lost too much time with the Vizier.

  There was only one person he could turn to. He needed to warn Lazar.

  “LOOK HOW IT SPARKLES, Ana,” Herezah breathed into her ear. “Imagine yourself naked and wearing only that emerald.” Ana’s eyes widened in shock at the suggestion and Herezah laughed softly. “Don’t be shy, Ana. I know a beautiful body hides beneath all of these robes. You’ve just got to be taught how to show it off to its best glory. Your first lesson: Nothing complements bare skin better than a precious jewel.”

  Even veiled, Ana looked baffled. “Valide, I…”

  Herezah kept her voice firm. “You must accept. And you must learn to use your body in ways you’ve never dreamed to excite, entice, and above all, keep the Zar enamored with you.”

  Ana shook her head softly, gaze returning to the emerald. “It’s beautiful but gems have never fascinated me the way they do other women.”

  Now Herezah clicked her tongue with exasperation. “It matters not whether you appreciate them, Ana. This is about pleasing your Zar! Boaz loves emeralds. It is the stone of his birth. But I think tonight you should be dressed in blue, which will set off your golden hair beautifully. So perhaps a sapphire?”

  The jeweler nodded and disappeared to the back of his store, returning almost immediately to reverently polish and place an exquisite jewel pendant into Herezah’s waiting hands.

  “This is perfect! You must please him by wearing it…perhaps dangling between your bare breasts, or across your naked hips…wherever he thinks it suits you best.” She laughed again but kept it light, almost conveying a feeling of fondness.

  “I shall consider it,” Ana replied neutrally.

  Herezah rounded on her, shooing the jeweler away. “You don’t understand anything, do you?”

  Ana shook her head, confused, frowning. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I think you’re being deliberately obtuse, Ana.” Herezah was, again, careful to keep her voice friendly as if they were familiar companions, used to this sort of banter. “I have already warned you of what my son will require from you.” She laughed lightly behind her veil. “After all, you are from the harem.”

  “Yes, you did, Valide. I don’t mean to be evasive, I’m just getting myself prepared—”

  “But there is no more time, Ana,” Herezah said, reaching for the girl’s arm and squeezing it as a friend might. “He has decided.”

  “Decided?” Ana repeated.

  Herezah tinkled another laugh, her eyes sparkling at Ana’s innocence. “We’ll take this,” she called to the jeweler, who nodded and reached to take the large light-colored sapphire pendant. “Match up a gold chain with it and have it delivered to the palace for tonight. The Grand Master Eunuch will settle with you.”

  The man bowed and disappeared behind the silk curtain that divided the shop from his back rooms.

  Herezah watched the shock deepen in the girl’s eyes. She elegantly sipped from the raspberry-colored glass of apple cinnamon tea the jeweler had served her earlier. “What are you thinking, Ana?” she inquired after a long pause. “I don’t understand your hesitation.”

  “I just didn’t imagine this would happen so soon, Valide.” Ana’s eyes were full of pleading now.

  Herezah was privately amused that the girl hoped for her help. “I was barely thirteen when Joreb chose me.”

  As Ana’s hand flew to her mouth, Herezah nodded reassuringly. “He was gentle the first time—I was but a child.” She noticed Ana move to say something but quietly continued: “He took me five times that night. My virginity was well and truly paid to my master by the following morning.” She smiled at the horror reflected in the girl’s eyes, staring back at her. “He called for me six nights in a row and only left me on the seventh because he was tired from his hunting that day. Not a part of me didn’t ache. Not an inch of my body wasn’t bruised, bitten, scratched, pinched—all out of affection, of course. Not a single bit of me minded. I was the winner.”

  “Thirteen,” Ana repeated.

  Herezah shrugged, wondering if the girl understood now what might have shaped her, why the Valide had arrived in this position with such a hard attitude. “I learned fast—as you will. And you are nearly sixteen, Ana. A woman by anyone’s standards.”

  “When, Valide?” Ana begged.

  There was no point in lying. “Tonight.”

  Ana gasped.

  Herezah knew it was time to be matter-of-fact. “He announced it this morning to Salmeo. You have been chosen. You are to be”—she hesitated, trying not to let the cruel grin behind the veil touch her eyes, which were showing only sympathy—“prepared,” she finished.

  “Prepared?”

  “Bathed, oiled, smoothed. Every hair from your body must be waxed and plucked. Every hair on your head must be polished until it reflects the light of the moon. Your teeth must gleam, your breath must be sweetened, your nipples must be painted to excite the Zar. You will be given the varada leaf to chew to stimulate your own desires—it works faster than the smoke. It also widens your pupils to make you more alluring. You will be powdered and perfumed and finally you will be draped in a silken gauze, and then you will crawl to his bedside on your knees before opening yourself up to the Zar and doing whatever he asks of you.”

  “How long have you known?” Ana asked, seemingly stunned.

  “I was told just moments before we left. It was all the more reason to ensure you had a wonderful time in the bazaar—this is, after a
ll, your last chance at freedom. I never had a day such as you have had today. But as I said earlier, this is my gift to you. So come on, let us go now and look for fabrics and a beautiful present that you might bring to your Zar this evening.” She paused deliberately, gave her tinkling laugh. “Actually, he needs no gift beyond your body, Ana. It will be enough, I’m sure.”

  OVER THE NEXT COUPLE of hours Ana was ushered from shop to shop. Herezah made all the purchases; Ana was barely more than an observer, unaware of the Valide’s insistence that every item must reflect Ana’s new status as First Chosen, incapable of responding to her queries on this fabric or that. The Valide chattered on, seemingly oblivious to the dread quiet at her side.

  “Perhaps you may be Favorite by tomorrow morning,” Herezah whispered conspiratorially. “Joreb made me Favorite on that first night.”

  Ana was past tearfulness. Now she was simply fearful, and fright was turning to something hard and obstinate. As Herezah spoke by her side about glassware and beautiful silver, magnificent rich fabrics and the ideas for the design of her own porcelain, Ana stared at the wondrous roof of the bazaar. There, in its beautiful blue-and-white painted tiles, she found calm. From this distance the intricate pattern of flowers and birds appeared merely as a complex design, and in taking her gaze around the ceiling, Ana felt her mind escaping.

  She didn’t even notice the icy sensation coursing through her body.

  And then she heard the voice in her mind. Who is this? It sounded both hesitant to speak and yet terrified not to. She recognized it instantly.

  It’s me, was all she could say, shocked at being able to communicate this.

  Ana?

  She could feel his relief washing through her own mind. How are we doing this? she asked.

  No idea. But it confirms that you are who I assumed.

  I know I accepted it when we spoke—but it suddenly frightens me. Are you so sure this goatherd’s daughter is who you think she is?

  Yes. Why else are we linked? How is it that we can now talk to each other simply using our minds?

  I don’t know.

  I am Iridor and you are Lyana. I have learned to accept it—now you must. When she didn’t reply, he filled the silence. Where are you? I hear a lot of noise.

  In the bazaar with the Valide. I know where you are—you’re flying.

  How do you know that?

  I can hear the wind rushing by, she said wistfully.

  Have you heard about Boaz and what he did this morning?

  A moment ago. I can’t think straight.

  Don’t be scared.

  Why not? I can’t escape this time.

  I’m working on it.

  What do you mean?

  He suddenly sounded evasive. Now that we can do this—we’ll talk again in the same manner soon.

  Don’t go, Pez!

  I have to…er, Ana, forgive me, I am just joining someone—

  Pez cut the link but not before she heard someone’s voice—a voice she had not thought she would ever hear again. Surely it couldn’t be? Was she imagining it because she was so distraught?

  No. She had heard the man say “Hello, Pez” as clearly as if he were standing by her side.

  “Well.” A new voice interrupted her reverie. “I think we’re done, Ana. You’re going to look stunning tonight, I promise.”

  Disconcerted, Ana tried to refocus her gaze. The Valide’s sharp eyes regarded her intently from behind her dark veil.

  “Are you feeling unwell?” Herezah inquired.

  Ana felt the Valide touch her arm and realized she was shaking her shoulder. Her thoughts swiftly snapped back to the moment. “I think a ghost just passed by me,” she stammered, forcing out an old Percherese saying.

  “Ooh.” Herezah shivered. “A ghost walking by signifies that death is beckoning.”

  Ana shook her head. “This one meant life.”

  Herezah frowned, shaking her head. “We leave now. I hope you’ve enjoyed your excursion, Ana. Though it is your last as a virgin, it need not to be your last time roaming from the palace. If you stick to your bargain, you can do this again sometime.”

  “Thank you, Valide,” Ana replied politely, hardly listening to the woman, her thoughts already teasing at the problem of where Lazar might be. The thrill of imagining him alive had already passed and was rapidly being replaced with shaking anger. The man she loved had tricked her in the worst possible manner…and, just as devastating, her only true friend was in on the duplicity. Pez was visiting Lazar now. She felt a sharp sting of betrayal. Lazar couldn’t possibly have deliberately set out to hurt her. And certainly not Pez, not after this morning’s conversation. But why? Why would Lazar fake his own death? Why would her uncle admit to the crime? She knew there had to be reasonable explanations, but Ana could find none, returning with sorrow to the notion that this was an act of treachery against her.

  Her shaking became visible.

  “Zarab save us! What’s come over you, girl?” Herezah exclaimed.

  And then Ana knew nothing more. She was not aware of slumping to the floor, her fall only barely broken by Herezah’s quick action. She was heedless of the people rushing around her, of a strong Elim guard lifting her easily and carrying her all the way back to the palace.

  She only knew who she was again when she woke to find herself draped on her own bed, pungent-smelling salts erupting through the cloudy fog to bring her back from the darkness.

  And she returned to her full senses, enraged.

  11

  Eyes normally light in color were now darkened by news that hurt him to his soul. He worked hard to keep his expression neutral even as the fresh information was delivered, but his brow creased and then dipped, hooding his haunted face still further. His lips were pressed together as though determined to deny escape to any words that might betray their owner.

  Finally Lazar let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d held so tightly in his chest. “Boaz said it this morning?” he repeated, demanding confirmation that he did not need.

  “That is what I have discovered.”

  “From whom? You were not there, I take it?”

  “From a reliable witness.”

  “Why are you being evasive?”

  “To protect you.”

  “From what?” Lazar sneered, slamming his hand down on the cottage’s scrubbed table.

  Pez remained patient. “From information that can incriminate. Trust me, Lazar, you do not want to hear this.”

  Lazar did but he didn’t have time to fret over Pez’s secrets right now. Ana’s life was about to change once again. “And she’s with Herezah, you say?”

  “Apparently the Valide has taken her shopping.”

  Lazar shook his head. “In all my years at the palace, Herezah has never once gone shopping. She has the sellers drag their goods up to the palace for a private showing.”

  Pez nodded. “And if she doesn’t like anything, she makes them keep repeating the process until she does.”

  “That’s right. She enjoys their frustration. She can’t have changed her ways.”

  “Well, perhaps because she’s getting Ana ready for her son…” Lazar scowled and Pez quickly added, “And Ana did say that Herezah had made a bargain with her and this was the first part of their deal.”

  Lazar snorted. “And you believe it?”

  “No,” Pez admitted.

  “She’s up to something.”

  “Lazar, whatever the Valide’s intentions might be with this trip into the city, they are negated by what Ana faces later.”

  The former Spur stomped out of the cottage, grumbling under his breath that he didn’t need to be reminded of what Ana would face later. Pez caught up with him. “You’re walking freely now, Lazar; your large stride has returned fully. Your stoop is gone, along with the sallow look that made me think it would be kinder to help you to an easy death. Anger is not helpful,” he counseled.

  “It is to me. Don’t lecture me.”

&n
bsp; The dwarf pulled a contrite expression. “I have to tell you something else. Something extraordinary.” Lazar turned his angry glare on his friend, as if denying his companion from giving any more surprises. Pez continued anyway: “Ana spoke to me when I was flying. She was in the bazaar. That’s how I know she was shopping.”

  “What do you mean?”

  At Lazar’s question Pez looked exasperated. “Don’t be dim, Lazar. She spoke to me. We can talk across distance, using our minds…and our magics.” Lazar grimaced, his heart constricting still further. The grief etched on his face said far more than words could.

  Pez hesitated. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought to enlighten you.”

  “Oh, I’m enlightened all right, Pez. According to you, she’s Lyana, Mother Goddess!” Lazar roared, no longer able to contain his fury. “But it still doesn’t save her a rutting at the end of Boaz’s newfound manhood, does it?”

  The dwarf stared at Lazar, clearly shocked. But then his expression tightened, and he said quietly, “And can you blame him?”

  “What?” Lazar felt a tide of fresh fury rise uncontrollably within him.

  “Can you honestly deny that you harbor similar desires?”

  Pez didn’t see it coming, but in his defense, neither did Lazar. He swung a strong backhander that connected perfectly with the dwarf ’s jaw, sending Pez to his back.

  Moments later Lazar watched as his old friend blinked slowly, dully, as realization hit that he was staring up at the bright sky over Star Island. He was filled with remorse and concern as he bent over the little man, tenderly bathing his knotted features with a cool, damp linen.

  “What happened?” Pez mumbled, and then moaned. “I’m seeing sparkles.”

  “I hit you,” Lazar confessed, a deep sense of shame overriding his anger. “I had no right to,” he groaned.

  “I deserved it,” Pez said, holding his jaw and not speaking very clearly. “Help me up.”

  Lazar gave an anguished sound. “No, Pez, don’t forgive me so easily. I deserved your criticism. My feelings toward Ana are inappropriate and you’ve seen through me, as did Herezah.”