If she needed to, she could come back and read petitions by lamplight, but traveling the dark ways meant she needed light to see where she ended up, and it was only a bit past third glass.
With that, she left the study and stopped in the anteroom. “I have some things to do. I don’t know if I’ll be back this afternoon.”
“Yes, Lady.”
As she left, she could hear the murmur of the messenger boy. “Where does she go?… say no one can find her…”
“… best to ask the Ancients…”
Mykella wanted to shake her head. Already, despite her efforts to be circumspect, events had forced her to reveal too much of her Talent.
She walked quickly to her quarters, where she donned the heavy nightsilk riding jacket and gloves. After walking to the window, close to the granite of the palace, with her Talent she reached out for the darkness, letting herself sink into the greenish black, but not quite all the way to the deep green.
Amid the depths, she searched for lines of silver … or amber … or faint, faint traces of either. The chill settled around her, but she began to sense … silvered amber patches of what seemed like mist. She reached for the one that seemed closest—or was it just the strongest?
Unlike her first attempts with the Tables, the silver, faint as it was, felt more welcoming, and … she stood in a chamber with a rounded roof that was so low her hair almost brushed it. She glanced down. Her boots rested on a shimmering surface—a mirror—except it was frosted in places, and it was circular and surrounded by a ring of what looked to be green tile.
A gust of wind like biting ice-mist ruffled her hair, and she looked up. She wasn’t in a narrow chamber so much as in a tunnel that opened to show sky and a distant horizon difficult to discern because the sun was low in the west, and its whitish light was almost directly in her eyes. She turned and glanced behind her, but there was nothing except a flush wall of the green tile.
The light wind that gusted into the tunnel made the depths beneath seem warm in comparison. She took several steps forward and away from the silvered floor mirror and squinted out toward the sun … and swallowed hard as she stopped in her tracks. The tunnel ended a yard from where she stood, and it overlooked a vast plain, or at least land that was comparatively flat, from a very great height, because she could make out no individual features of the ground far below. She edged forward slightly, enough to see that the tunnel seemed to emerge or end with sheer rock faces on each side.
Where are you?
She edged backwards, not wanting to get too close to the edge. The only place she’d seen or heard of with such a sheer cliff was the Aerlal Plateau, and she’d only seen it from a distance of tens of vingts. But why had the soarers put a mirror in the middle of the enormous stone wall that surrounded the plateau?
Even as she posed that thought, she began to sense a blackish presence or presences.
… one has come … so long …
Mykella turned back from the overlook to see two manlike creatures flow out of the sides of the tunnel, blocky tan figures a head shorter than she was. In the dimness of the tunnel, their skins still sparkled in irregular patches, as if tiny gems or miniature light-torches were embedded there. Their eyes were crystal-like, hard silvered green, and they wore no clothing, but their rough skin showed no breasts or udders or any visible animal or human organs.
Feelings—rather than thoughts—flowed from the manlike creatures, and they exuded a terrible loneliness … and a raw desire … so crude and direct that her stomach churned.
They moved toward her, purposefully.
Mykella grasped for the darkness and wrenched herself into the depths.
Behind her, for an instant, she felt a spear of pain and total despair.
Were those the “others” the soarer had mentioned?
She would have shuddered if she could have as she hung suspended in the darkness. A second thought occurred. Did they think she had been a soarer? But why…?
Within herself, she shuddered again, if only in her mind.
Then she forced herself to try to find another mirror, one somewhere farther from the Plateau, because, if those figures were the “others,” the soarer had said that they existed only where it was cold. She focused on one that “felt” warmer …
… and found herself standing in another low-ceilinged chamber or tunnel, her boots on another silver mirror, save that this one was rectangular in shape and covered in fine dust. It was rimmed in the seamless green tile. The light was far dimmer, so much so that Mykella realized she was sensing more than seeing. Again, the wall behind the mirror was the same green tile and a tunnel lay before her, but less than three yards away was a pile of rock that filled all but the tiniest space through which indirect light sifted.
Can you use the darkness to slip through the rock?
She reached for the green, found it near at hand, and eased herself toward the light, keeping a firm grip on the darkness, just in case this tunnel also ended in a cliff face.
It did, and she found herself hanging in midair, but less than a handful of yards above a field of jumbled boulders, if in the middle of a drizzling rain. The rugged slopes before her were covered in evergreens, stretching in all directions, with nothing to offer any sign of where she might be.
She eased herself back into the darkness beneath and tried again.
This time, she found herself in total darkness, and she immediately dropped back into the greenish black below, sensing that the tunnel was totally blocked.
A fourth attempt landed her in waist-deep snow in what looked to be a ravine, until she realized that it had been a tunnel, except that something had destroyed the upper part.
Between the drizzle and the snow, she was shivering, and she reached to the green darkness a last time—to bring herself back to her quarters and her own dressing chamber.
There, she changed into dry nightsilks and her other boots.
What were the mirrors for? Except for the one in the city of the ancients, all the others had been in high mountainous locations—and she thought it most likely the one that had been buried had been as well.
Then she thought about the one in the cliff wall of the Aerlal Plateau … and shuddered.
After several moments, she drew herself together.
So much for the mirrors’ providing help.
She glanced toward the window and the sunset, then turned and headed back toward the formal study.
She could finish the rest of the petitions before dinner. And you thought that reading petitions was horrible.
36
Over the rest of Octdi and Novdi, Mykella felt as though she scrambled from one thing to another, just trying to keep up. The Table showed her that Klevytr had stopped packing things away and that Zylander had several talks with a younger man who resembled him, no doubt his son. Cheleyza remained in Harmony, and Areyst was alternating between meetings with officers and conducting training exercises, even in the rain that had fallen across Tempre and Viencet on Octdi. Salyna left a note that said she and the auxiliaries had encountered some difficulty in dealing with the prisoners from Porofyr’s factorage, but that she’d resolved matters, and several of the better auxiliaries were helping to patrol the factorage.
Mykella met twice with Haelyt. While the outflow of golds had slowed, it was still occurring. She didn’t want to stop payments or even give an order to slow them because that would cause too much concern among the factors and Seltyrs. Someone had been spreading the word, because Elwayt had told Rachylana that some of the herders were requesting payment when they delivered livestock, and even one of the millers had. Although Mykella did have some cushion with the golds from Porofyr’s wagon, given the outlays to come, it wasn’t that much. Loryalt still had not returned to Tempre, and the rain had effectively stopped any immediate repairs to the sewers and towpaths.
Mykella kept checking the markers of the other Tables but could sense little change. Were the Ifrits somehow watching through
the Tables and waiting until she was occupied with something else—such as an invasion by the coastal princes? Or were they biding their time to ready even mightier weapons … or for some other reason? She made two other attempts to gain better control over the dark deep greenness, with slightly more success, but not enough to feel truly confident if she had to face Ifrits who could use or draw on the scepters.
Decdi morning, she did sleep late, if a glass beyond her normal waking counted as late. She took a bit more time washing up before she made her way to the breakfast room.
Salyna was sitting silently at one side of the table, slowly sipping tea, letting the steam wreath her face. Dark circles under her eyes made her look even thinner than she was.
“Are you all right?” Mykella reached out with her Talent. All she sensed was fatigue.
“Besides being exhausted? I think so.” Salyna looked up. “How do you do it? I’m just worried about sixty-some women.”
“You have to do everything,” Mykella replied, looking up as Muergya set a pot of tea, steam still issuing from the spout, before her. “I can call on a few people.” She turned to Muergya. “An omelet and ham strips and dark bread, if the kitchen has any.”
“Yes, Lady.” The serving girl hurried off.
Salyna waited for Muergya to leave, then said, “You have to check up on all of them. I’ve seen that.”
“Except for Areyst.”
“You’d like to see more of him, wouldn’t you?” Salyna smiled.
“Yes,” Mykella admitted.
“When will you tell him?”
“Salyna…” Mykella’s voice contained a mixture of exasperation and humor.
“All right…” After a moment, the blonde asked, “What about Lord Gharyk?”
“He’s honest enough, but he can’t do much until I can replace even more people in the Justice Ministry, and I’ve been having enough trouble with Highways and Rivers and Finance. I can’t afford to be running three ministries myself.” Mykella shook her head. “I’m not doing a very good job with two—and that’s just dealing mostly with what’s happening in Tempre.”
“No one else could do any better. You didn’t create the problems, either.”
“No … but I’m not sure that I didn’t make some of them worse.”
“Did you have any choice if you wanted anything left in the Treasury?”
“Probably not.”
Salyna nodded.
Neither spoke, and Mykella sipped her tea, waiting for Muergya to return with the omelet and ham strips, when Rachylana entered the breakfast room, stifling a yawn. Mykella realized that it was the first time in days that the three of them had eaten together—after years of always doing so.
“It looks like the rain has finally stopped,” said Rachylana.
“It’s still drizzling,” replied Salyna glumly. “The exercise grounds are slop and worse.”
“It will be clear by this afternoon,” predicted the redhead, slipping into her place.
“That may be, but it will be days before things dry out.”
Muergya returned and set a platter before Mykella, as well as a basket of dark bread. “I’ll have an omelet for you in a moment, Lady Rachylana.”
“Thank you.”
Salyna took several bites of her breakfast, then looked at Mykella. “I’ve been having the auxiliaries use the people they know to find out anything of interest that might help you. Seltyr Seniel, Seltyr Klevytr, and Seltyr Whaerel have been looking into buying additional wagons and dray horses, and High Factor Scalyn has bought a barge and a team of oxen.”
“Klevytr was the one whose summer villa was attacked, wasn’t he?” asked Rachylana.
Salyna’s look at the redhead was a tired glare. “You know that.”
Mykella spoke quickly. “I appreciate the information. I’ve worried about Klevytr, but I hadn’t heard anything about the others. I’ll have to keep a close eye on all of them.” Mykella decided to say nothing more because she wanted all the information Salyna could provide, and saying she already knew was likely to give the impression that she really didn’t need more information. In fact, the limitations of the Table and her own time were becoming more and more obvious, and she could use any and all information her sisters could provide.
“I’ll see what else they can find out.”
“Good.”
“What are you wearing to the ball?” Rachylana asked Salyna.
“The ball? I haven’t given it a thought. Training the auxiliaries is taking all my time right now. They try hard, but there’s so much they don’t know … so much.” Salyna sighed.
“You will be there, won’t you?”
“Yes. I’ll be there.” She paused, as if about to say something, then shook her head.
Mykella could almost read what Salyna wanted to say as if she had. I’ll be there, but I have better things to do than to go to functions.
“Balls serve a function, too, you know?” observed Rachylana.
“Such as allowing Mykella to get a better idea of whom to trust and whom not to? Or parading women like cattle up for bidding? How many young daughters will accompany their fathers, in place of their mothers, so that other Seltyrs can observe them?”
It could be worse … so much worse, and I’d never thought that. Mykella repressed a shudder, taking another sip of tea.
“Right now,” returned Rachylana, “I’d judge about eight.”
“How do you know that? They only respond that they’re attending.”
“There are three widowers, and they won’t bring their mistresses, and there are a High Factor and a Seltyr who haven’t appeared with their wives in years … and I’m guessing that two or three others will have wives who are suddenly indisposed.”
“The poor girls won’t even see the men to whom they might be matched,” Salyna said.
“Is that much better than for us?” asked Rachylana. “The men who might seek matches with us won’t do it if they have to come to Tempre.”
“Not yet.” Mykella’s voice was tart. “They will.” One way or another.
“Is that a promise or a prophecy?” countered Rachylana.
“It will happen.”
“If you succeed, they’ll have to, and if you don’t, we’ll all end up matched or dead. Is that it? Or do you know something you’re not saying?” The softness of Rachylana’s last words muted the repressed anger in the first.
“Cheleyza is likely to accompany the Northcoast forces. Many of the golds Joramyl stole went to Northcoast to build a cavalry force. She wears that uniform all the time now. They will attack. That doesn’t mean they’ll win.”
“You’re holding something back,” Rachylana said. “Does it have to do with the reason why you’re green again?”
“She’s not green…” Salyna’s words trailed off. “Why can you see that, and I can’t?” She turned to Mykella. “Do you know why? You must.”
Mykella shook her head. “Some people can. Some can’t. I don’t know why it happens that way.” And that was true. She knew which people could, it seemed, because of the green in their life-thread, but not why some people had the green and not others.
Muergya reappeared and set a platter in front of Rachylana. “Your omelet, Lady.”
“Thank you.”
“What are you going to do this afternoon?” asked Salyna abruptly, her eyes on Mykella.
“I’d thought I’d take a ride through Tempre to see how things are going. After all this rain, I’d like to get out. Do either of you two want to come?”
“I can’t,” said Salyna.
“I will.” Rachylana speared a ham slice.
Mykella understood why Rachylana would accompany her—and that was another worry.
“I need to go.” Salyna rose and hurried out of the breakfast room.
Because she didn’t want to answer Rachylana’s questions immediately or avoid them directly, Mykella finished the last of her breakfast quickly and rose. “I have to answer more petiti
ons and missives.”
As she walked from the breakfast room, she wished she didn’t have to finish the petitions waiting in the Lady-Protector’s study; but there would be more on Londi, and she’d get behind if she didn’t finish what she could.
Still … she would take that ride later in the afternoon—even with Rachylana. It had been too long since she’d made a ride through Tempre … and one thing she had resolved was that she would not become isolated from the people in the way her father had.
No … you won’t make the same mistakes he did. You’ll just make different ones.
At least they’d be her mistakes, and not inherited errors, not that the realization was any great comfort.
37
Mykella could tell that Rachylana truly wanted to ride. The redhead was already mounted and waiting in the rear courtyard with the Southern Guard squad, led by Zhulyn, when Mykella stepped into northwest courtyard slightly after the second glass of the afternoon. She mounted quickly, glancing skyward and noting that a brisk breeze blew out of the southwest and that the southern half of the silver-green sky was clear and crisp.
“Where to, Lady-Protector?” asked the squad leader.
“Out to the Great Piers, then south on the west side of the South River.” Mykella urged the gelding forward.
Rachylana immediately rode up beside her sister, and a pair of guards rode around them and took the lead on the way out of the courtyard and onto the avenue.
“It’s getting warmer,” said the redhead. “It usually does when we get a south wind.”
“And snow comes from the north or northeast, and rain from the northwest.”
“Except in the depth of winter, when the light powdery snow comes from the northwest.”
“Like Cheleyza,” said Mykella dryly. “She looks so fragile, and she’s anything but delicate. Then, Salyna would say that a killer saber looks delicate compared to a broadsword, but the sabers are more effective in battle.”
“Some would say that about you,” Rachylana pointed out. “You’re not that tall.”
Lady-Protector Page 32
