Taryn stared at him, not knowing whether to be relieved or horrified. “You never said anything.”
“I just did, didn’t I? You can trust me, Taryn. I may not have Zakael’s strength in ShantiMari, but I know enough to keep my mind locked. Let me help with your burden.”
She wrapped her arms around him and muttered words of thanks and gratitude, of relief and fear that if he got himself killed the duke would never forgive her. Hayden chuckled, his strong chest heaving against hers. Having him know the truth was right somehow. She wasn’t sure why, but Hayden needed to know.
“I wonder if the sword is blocking you from your Dark Shanti,” he murmured.
“Why would you say that?”
He rubbed his chest where Marissa’s ShantiMari nearly killed him. “Well, it sings to you, right? So maybe those songs are important. At Ravenwood, I’m certain it told me to ask for your help.”
“It’s possible. I’m always being told there’s a progression to my learning. Maybe it thinks I’m not ready yet.” Taryn recalled something else from Ravenwood—a beautiful woman with dark skin and flowing black hair. Learn the words, she’d said.
Hayden’s stomach gave a thunderous rumble. “I know what I’m ready for. Shall we?” He held out his hand, and they dove into the water together, racing to the shore.
Chapter Forty-Seven
A crack of thunder rattled the thick plates of glass in the old library, temporarily pulling Taryn from the fuzzy depths of thought. She was surprised at how dark it had become, the hours that passed without her noticing. Kaida lay on a pillow not far from her chair, paws twitching in sleep. Dreaming of chasing hares, most likely.
Taryn rubbed her eyes and knotted her hair into a sloppy bun atop her head. The beautiful cascade of curls and braids Lorilee had given her—she wasn’t even sure when—had long since been destroyed. The papers she was studying served no purpose in answering her questions. If anything, they created more questions, and then more to answer those. She hated riddles, but it seemed the prophets of old were keen on twisting words.
She pushed the papers aside and banged her head on the thick wood. A loud thunk echoed through the empty rooms. She was alone. Vulnerable. She glanced at the place where her guard usually kept watch, a chill spiking her senses when she saw it empty. Her gaze traveled behind where she sat, and up the tall stacks of shelves to the top of the palace. Books and scrolls were crammed into every conceivable nook and cranny. Thick beams crossed overhead, looking imposing where only a few bells earlier she’d greeted them with genial familiarity.
A skittering in one corner made her hand flex toward her sword, but she wasn’t wearing it. She’d left it in her rooms because it was ridiculous to wear it in the library.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, she chided herself.
A palace cat stretched across the entry to her little enclosure, reaching out with first one calico speckled paw, then the other, before extending its back legs. The cat sat on its haunches and groomed itself, ignoring her and Kaida.
Taryn sagged into the chair, apprehension sloughing off like a thick coating of mud.
Carina, one of the six guards Anje had chosen for her, popped her head through the entryway. “You have a visitor.”
Tessa sidled past Carina to enter the space. She balanced a tray with a steaming pot of grhom and two plates piled high with food. “You missed dinner,” she said in a disapproving tone. “Again.”
Apparently, Taryn’s hermit-like obsession wasn’t approved of by her youngest sister. She’d slept in the library the previous night and—she sniffed beneath her tunic—apparently missed a bath or two.
“Thank you.” She took the tray from Tessa and placed it on the table. “Are you joining me?”
Tessa shook her head. “I thought Carina might be hungry.”
A slice of guilt cut through Taryn. She hadn’t even considered the woman’s needs. How unbelievably selfish of her.
“That was very nice of you.” She cleared a place for Carina amid all the papers and bade her join them. Her guard looked suspiciously at the dark library and then pulled a chair to the table.
They talked about Taryn’s work for much of the meal, with Taryn trying to explain the scroll she’d been reading. It had to do with a prophecy about Kaldaar, the firstborn son of Nadra and Ohlin. It documented his creation of the Black Arts, his manipulation of Rykoto, his rape of Julieta, and his fall from grace. All things she knew from Rhoane’s telling those first few days on Aelinae.
What caught her attention was the repeated mention of a vessel. Without this vessel—and this was where the wording got tricky—to hold or contain their power, the Black Arts would not continue. Taryn was trying to unravel the meaning of the prophecy when the storm had interrupted her.
She shuffled through the scrolls on her desk. “There must be a second page, but I can’t find it.”
“Have you tried looking where you found the parchment in the first place?” Carina asked. “Perhaps it was placed on another shelf.”
“I thought of that, but it’s not there. Besides, the librarians are too meticulous to make a mistake like that.”
“Maybe someone else took it.” Tessa tapped a little finger to her lips. “Is there a reason anyone else would need to study the prophecy?”
“I suppose anyone who wanted to know the history of the Black Arts.” Taryn got up and went to the section where the scroll should’ve been. She poked around again, moving aside scraps of paper and scanning several parchments before turning back to the others. “It should be right here.” She smacked the shelf, and a light puff of dust rose in the air.
A quick stinging sensation from her pendant set her nerves on edge. Her skin prickled and she rubbed her arms, irritated at her pendant. Then she recalled the previous week when she’d searched for Anje’s letter.
“I think I know who has it.” Taryn rejoined the others and took her seat. She lifted her grhom to her lips, contemplating her next move. “We need to retrieve it, but I’m sure it’s locked in her rooms.”
“Who?” Carina and Tessa said in unison.
“Lady Celia.”
Tessa chewed a piece of Taryn’s bread, her fingers tapping out her thoughts on the crust. “I could do it. I know Celia’s rooms like my own.”
“We couldn’t risk it. This is dangerous, Tessa. If you got hurt, Mother would kill me.”
Tessa straightened in her seat, making herself as tall as she could. “I’m not afraid. Besides, I’m perfect. I know Celia, so my being in her rooms wouldn’t look suspicious. I’m a princess. No one would dare question me if I want to visit her. And, I know all the secret passageways that lead to her rooms, as well as most of the hiding places she might use. If there is a spot of trouble with her Mari, I can always have you use your sword.”
“It doesn’t work like that, but you might be our best bet.”
Taryn set the scraps of her meal on the floor for Kaida, who had awoken from her nap. The palace cat sat nearby and finished its meticulous grooming before blinking its amber eyes lazily and sauntering over to eat off the plate, too. Kaida regarded the interloper with a cautious glance but then resumed her meal.
They formulated a plan that would allow Tessa to explore Celia’s rooms while keeping her out of harm’s way. Taryn still didn’t like the idea of using her baby sister as a spy, but her options were becoming increasingly limited. Once the plan was set, Tessa led the small group from the library to a small alcove hidden behind a thick tapestry on the fourth floor of the palace. Two orbs—one multihued and the other cornflower blue—led their way through a maze of corridors until finally Tessa stopped. She opened a slender door a crack and listened. A moment later, she slipped through the door and out of sight.
Taryn and Carina waited in the cramped space for Tessa to return from Celia’s rooms. She shifted against the cool wall and brushed a web from her face. “So,” she kept her voice low, “what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
From the scant light of the floating orb Taryn had made, she saw Carina’s brows pinch, her lips twist to the side in thought. “We’re here to wait for Tessa.”
Taryn chuckled, then checked herself. “It was a joke. Where I came from, that’s how guys tried to pick up girls.”
“Did it work?”
“I doubt it.” A rat scurried past them, racing over Taryn’s boot to get past Kaida. The grierbas watched it run off with detached interest. “What’s taking her so long?” Tessa had been in Celia’s suite at least a quarter of a bell. Taryn paced in a small circle, using all the space she had. “We should see if she needs help.”
Carina put a hand out to stop Taryn. “She knows how to reach you if there is trouble. Calm. Breathe.”
“You sound like Rhoane.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The door creaked open the width of a hand, and Tessa slithered through, clutching several papers to her chest. She made sure the door clicked and then looked up at them with a broad smile. “She had half the library in there. I took what I thought was most important.” She gave a cautious glance at the opposite wall. “Let’s not linger here.”
Once in Taryn’s rooms, they spread out the sheets and scanned them. Some were lineage histories, others mundane housekeeping records. Three of the pages made Taryn’s chest tighten and her breathing quickened. One was the missing second page of Kaldaar’s prophecy; another was a prophecy that dealt with her, specifically; and the third was a family tree.
Taryn gathered up all the sheets except those three. “We should return these to Celia’s rooms. She might miss them and become suspicious.”
“She won’t. Trust me. There were books and papers everywhere. You would’ve hated it. No organization, no proper care, or handling—that’s what took me so long.”
Taryn chewed the inside of her cheek. In the morning, she’d share what she found with Rhoane, but it was late and she needed rest. “You’ve been a great help tonight. Carina, can you take Tessa to her rooms, then give Kaida a break outside before retiring?”
Tessa started to argue, but Taryn cut her off. “We’ll meet tomorrow and sort out what Celia is up to. I promise.”
Before she left, Tessa handed Taryn several cream colored envelopes, each opened. They were the notes she’d sent to Rhoane. “I found these beside her bed.”
Taryn tucked the pages into her tunic. “Thank you, Tessa.” She kissed her sister’s forehead, lingering to inhale the sweet scent of citrus and mint.
When the girls were gone, Taryn sat at her desk and read more thoroughly through the documents, becoming increasingly agitated. She hardly noticed Carina’s return or the sky lightening in the west. Only when Saeko tapped her on the shoulder did she realize she’d spent the entire night making notes.
She cancelled her training that morning and sent messages to those she trusted most to meet in her rooms at ninth bell. When they started arriving, Taryn paced with the heightened anxiety of someone who hadn’t slept but was fueled with determination and caffeine.
Carina and Timor, another of Taryn’s guards, stood beside her door while the rest of the group gathered in her sitting room. She looked at their faces—expectant, curious, questioning—and began.
She indicated the anonymous notes she’d received, handing a few to Faelara to pass around. “Someone has been helping with my research. I don’t know who, but these clues have led me to this.” She held up the papers Tessa had retrieved from Celia’s rooms. “I think it’s best if I just read it, then we can figure out what it all means.”
She read through the entire prophecy, stopping when she came to the end of the second page. “I can’t make out this last part. It’s written in thick ink and a bit smeared, but I think it says, ‘Bring night into day when the blood of the unbroken, daughter of deceit, will sow their seeds.’” She passed the pages to Faelara and Hayden. “Read them again. Oh, and this.” She gave Sabina the sheet with the family tree meticulously drawn.
They took their time reading and rereading the pages. Eliahnna jotted down notes in a journal while Baehlon sharpened his sword. Taryn paced the room, wearing the carpet thin in a semicircle. She chewed on her cuticle, stopped herself, and then nibbled a bit more.
There was something else Taryn had to share with the group, something she’d kept hidden even from Rhoane. Admitting she’d been deceptive wouldn’t be pleasant, but she couldn’t hide her dealings with Ebus any longer. Since that night on the shores of Lake Oster, he’d been spying on Celia. Taryn agreed with his terms to keep his role anonymous, but wasn’t comfortable keeping secrets from the others. But Ebus had a point that if the others knew about him, they might inadvertently signal to him or otherwise call him out when they spotted him around the palace. With only Taryn knowing his purpose, he’d be able to follow Celia without drawing attention. The plan had worked perfectly.
Ebus was, at that very moment, in the far reaches of the orchard, perched high in a tree, observing Celia and her invisible lover. They’d met many times since their return to Talaith, but this was the first time the mysterious stranger had come on palace grounds.
His proximity corroborated Taryn’s suspicions that their confidence grew with each encounter. Ebus had been right—if she’d told Rhoane, he would’ve severed Celia’s ties with the phantom, who then would’ve been free to find a new victim. They were close to learning his identity, she could sense it. Still, it didn’t sit well with her knowing she kept something important from Rhoane.
Sabina’s nose wrinkled in thought, a lock of hair stuck between her teeth as she absently chewed. “This is of my family tree, I believe.”
The others turned their attention to her.
“The names are spelled in the archaic language, but I recognize many of them. And see here, on the lowest branch are my mother and father, with my siblings and me listed just below.”
Hayden craned his neck to get a better look. “Sabinth Aarendhi.” He looked off, thinking. “I’ve read that name before, but I can’t recall where.”
“Did it have to do with Kaldaar?” Rhoane asked, taking the paper from Sabina.
“I’m not sure. I’ll search my books. I know it was just in the last fortnight, so it must be here with me.”
Faelara tapped the second page of the prophecy. “This part at the bottom looks like it was added later. The script doesn’t match the rest.”
“That’s what I thought, as well,” Taryn agreed. She took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Last night, Tessa found these papers in Celia’s rooms.” All eyes focused on her, and she continued without elaborating. “For some time now, Celia’s been acting odd. Talking to herself, having bouts of mania followed by spells of discontent. Something’s not right.” She pointed to the sheets in their hands. “I have no idea what all of this means, but I’m certain it’s not good. That’s why I asked you here, to see if we can collectively figure this out and how Celia is involved.”
At length, it was Rhoane who spoke. “Hayden, see what you can uncover about Kaldaar and the Black Arts. Since Sabina believes this is her family tree, she should look further into that, and Taryn, continue your research into the prophecies that revolve around you. As for Baehlon and myself, we will keep watch for anything untoward in the palace. As well as keep a guard on Sabina.”
“What should we do?” Tessa’s eyes were alight with the possibility of adventure.
“You, my young friend, need to watch Lady Celia. Be discreet, see where she goes, whom she speaks with, but never go alone. Do you understand? You must never be by yourself if you are to help us. We need to be certain you are safe. Always.” He chucked her on the chin, and Tessa beamed at him.
“I will,” she said in a breathless sigh.
“I’ll keep watch over Herbret as well,” Hayden offered. “His interest in Sabina isn’t healthy, nor his relationship with Celia. I’m betting he’s involved somehow.”
“Excellent point, Hayden,” Faelara said. “I’ve never
trusted that young man.”
Sabina shuddered and Hayden placed his arm protectively around her.
“I’ll help Taryn in the library. I’m sure there is order to all of this,” Eliahnna added.
“Are you insinuating I’m not tidy?” A hint of bemusement lifted Taryn’s words.
Eliahnna gave her a suffering look. “Of course not. I’m merely suggesting that a fresh set of eyes might find what you’ve overlooked.”
Faelara stretched in such a way that Taryn recalled the calico cat from the library. Their eyes met, and Faelara gave a sly smile. “I’ll see what I can discover from the empress’s spies. I doubt if Lliandra would openly share anything she knows with me.”
“Have you fallen from favor?” Baehlon’s voice rumbled through the room.
“Perhaps a little. I have been remiss in sharing everything I know about the Eirielle, and this vexes her to no end.” The sly smile deepened.
“You did that for me?” Gratitude didn’t come close to what Taryn was feeling. Faelara could’ve been hanged if Lliandra so wished it.
“Of course, my darling.”
The meeting disbanded, and they began to file out. Taryn stopped Rhoane before he joined Baehlon. “Tessa found these in Celia’s rooms.” She handed him the notes she’d sent that he’d never received. “If she’s up to something, there’s no way Marissa doesn’t know about it.”
He turned the envelopes in his hands, a frown pulling his lips dangerously low. “I will make certain to put a watch on her, as well. But it is wise to keep these suspicions to yourself. If they prove false, you will not have to explain your treason to the empress.”
The bitter taste of acid lingered with his words. Despite what he’d told her at the Weirren, he still wished to believe in Marissa’s innocence. Even if that meant not believing Taryn.
Chapter Forty-Eight
The Stones of Resurrection Page 44
