I took a moment to process her words. If I believed her at face value, then she was innocent of any wrongdoing and Prince Reynard may be guilty of plotting his intended’s death. But the prophecy said the princess would be slain by love. Princess Arlene cared for Sarelle; that much was obvious. Was she the killer, the one that fit into the prophecy. I was not sure.
“Then why did you attack me at the palace, if you are innocent?”
She sighed. “I did not want you to find out what Sarelle did—she was not thinking clearly at the time. She was a good woman, a strong woman, and her memory does not need to be sullied.” She scowled at me.
I wanted to believe her. I could not say why, but I did not think she killed Sarelle. “The king will soon die, and Prince Reynard will crown himself king, and you, Princess, must stop him from doing so. That is what I have seen.”
The princess was pensive for a moment, as if processing my words. “When is this day, what hour? How am I to stop these things from happening?”
I held my hands up in a futile gesture. “I cannot say. Soon, I suspect, but as for the day and hour, that is not known to me.”
“And what shall I do when this moment comes?”
“I know only that you will risk much to protect the kingdom. The rest has been shadowed from me.”
She paced back and forth. “If I am to believe you, which I am inclined not to do…” She glowered at me.
“What would make you believe that I am what I say?” I asked. Though my voice was even and calm, my heart was hammering in my chest. If she did not believe me, then the kingdom may be lost.
“I would have you perform a reading on my father, the king. If you are what you say you are, then this shall not be a difficult task for you.”
“I can perform the reading, Your Highness. When would it suit?”
She smiled, and it put me ill at ease. “It will not be simple, illusino, my father has not woken for more than a fortnight. Tell me the hour and the day of his passing, and I shall believe you.”
I felt as if the floor had dropped out from beneath me. A reading was one matter but to divine a day of death may well be beyond my skill. My visions had never been exact. What choice did I have? This was the path the diviner had led me on, and I must see it until the end.
Johai must have sensed my distress because he came over and squeezed my shoulders. I laid a hand over his as I replied, “So it shall be done, Your Highness.” I bowed my head and turned to leave.
“One last thing, illusino.” I turned to look at her. “If you do not perform as you have promised, I will have you sent to the dungeon to rot as a traitor. “
Chapter Eighteen
In order not to link my identity with my assumed persona, Johai and I took the ambassador’s carriage to the playhouse. Therein I changed into my lady of the veils costume and took another carriage that Jon had hired for us to the palace. It seemed excessive, but Jon insisted lest the princess discover who I was pretending to be. The carriage stopped outside the rear palace gates, the same I had once entered with the troupe. When we pulled up and Johai helped me out of the carriage, a pair of guards watched us with their hands at their sword belts.
I glided over to them, my hood pulled up to hide my features along with the silver mask. Johai wore a plain doublet of gray with silver trim. His hair was in a simple braid.
“What is your business here?” one of the guards asked. He glanced between the two of us with a frown.
“I have been summoned to the palace. Check with the master of keys; he will vouch for me.”
The guard scowled at me and shared a look with his companion. “Wait here,” he said.
The second guard went into a door at the far end of the receiving yard beyond the gate. I folded my hands over my chest and pretended at being calm. I was anything but. My heart beat an erratic rhythm in my chest, and my palms were slick with sweat. I did not want to do this, but I felt I had to. The princess did not trust me, but she held the key to the answers; that much was certain. The answers were within my reach at last.
The guard returned with a balding man in black livery and with a golden chain in the shape of keys. The master of keys looked me up and down. I held my breath, hoping that Princess Arlene had held faith and did not plan to betray me at the last moment.
“You are the dream reader?” the man asked.
I nodded and felt a knot of dread coil in my stomach. Words were too much, and I held my tongue instead. He looked up and down the receiving yard. No one was in the yard but for a few guards.
“Let them in, quickly,” the master of keys said to the gate guards. The one who had remained behind fumbled with his keys and then opened the gate for us to enter. I bobbed my head in thanks, and Johai trailed after me.
“Follow me,” the master of keys said to us. He strode across the yard and towards the open door. Inside, we walked through a familiar passageway that twisted and turned in the underbelly of the palace. The master of the keys strode down the hall, and we had to half jog to keep up with his pace. We passed by several servants along the passageway. All of them averted their gaze as we passed, and a few made signs of warding when I brushed past them. I wondered how much more afraid they would have been if Johai had kept his natural white hair.
We stopped at a closed door. The master held up his hand to stop us and peeked his head out the door before motioning for us to follow. We entered a long hallway with large paintings adorning the walls and statues in niches. The windows looked out onto the mountainscape beyond, which appeared icy blue under the clear blue sky. Down the hall a bit further, there was a pair of gilded double doors before which two sentries stood.
As we approached, they crossed their decorative spears to stop us.
“I am here on Her Highness’ business. Let us through,” the master said to them. The sentry to the left looked him up and down, and for a moment I thought he would turn us away. They glanced at me, shrouded and masked.
They nodded and stepped aside, allowing us to enter. Inside, a fire was burning, and the room was stifling hot. A massive bed took up a third of the floor space and was positioned facing the fire. Crimson curtains were drawn closed. Princess Arlene sat beside him in a chair place by the head of the bed. As the double doors closed behind us, she stood up.
“You have come, then. Good.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I have. Does the king still sleep?” I asked.
She pointed behind her to the canopy bed. The sun came through the window and turned the crimson to a blood red. I shivered as I moved closer. The princess pulled back the curtains to reveal an immobile form. He was pale, and sweat dampened his brow. His skin appeared stretched tight over his features, and he was sunken and hollow looking. I felt drawn to him in a way I could not explain. The pull I felt was like the one I felt for the water when I scryed. He holds the answers I seek.
“Here he has lain for a fortnight without waking,” Arlene said. I stepped closer with my hand outstretched. Arlene caught my wrist and stopped me. “There is one other condition. If you are to do this, I must see your real face.”
I touched the mask with my free hand. I glanced at Johai over my shoulder. It was a risk but no worse than the other risks I had taken coming here. If she were to deceive me, she would find out who I was one way or another. Johai nodded his head in what I assumed was encouragement.
I lowered my hood and moved aside the curtain of my dark hair to untie the mask. It slid off and fell into my hand. I looked up at Princess Arlene. Her eyes were wide.
“You are the woman that the king of Danhad seeks, the one who killed King Dallin!” she shouted at me with a jut of her finger.
“Yes to the former, and no to the latter. I was implicated as the killer to cover up a deeper plot. If you are willing to trust me, we may be able to save both our kingdoms from destruction,” I said.
“That depends on you, does it not?” Her expression showed no more of her emotions now. She pointed to he
r father once more, and I walked to the king, drawn by the instinctual pull.
He was thin, and his skin looked as frail as old parchment. I feared to touch him but knew I must to perform the reading. Princess Arlene took a seat on the chair beside his bed and brushed a few of his curls away from his face. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was so shallow I could not even see his chest raising the sheets.
“Is he—” I asked, afraid what the answer might be.
“He lives yet,” Princess Arlene snapped, then turned away from me and watched her father for a few more moments. “My father fell ill shortly after the announcement of Sarelle and my uncle’s engagement.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. It seemed too similar to what had transpired in Danhad. “Was it sudden?” I asked.
The princess scowled at me. “Yes. My father was not a weak man, make no mistake. He was poisoned; I am sure of it.”
“Whom do you suspect?” For I knew she harbored suspicions of someone as I, too, did.
“I will not make false accusations, but…”
“Your uncle will take the throne upon your father’s death?” I prompted.
She narrowed her eyes as she regarded me.
“And you wish to be queen.”
“No, I am his eldest child. It is my right to rule after his passing.” She jumped up, and the chair fell over with a clatter.
I jumped back from her outburst but kept my gaze on her. I wanted to assess this impulsive princess. I wanted to see if she could be an ally or a foe. “But you are not a man.”
“What does being a man have to do with ruling a kingdom? I have learned all about rulership from my father, and I know had he not fallen ill, he would have made me his rightful heir.”
I waited for her to continue, but she had lapsed back into silence. The time for talking had passed. The pounding of drums was filling my ears. The vision was calling to me, demanding that I part the veils. “I will need to prepare for the connection,” I said and removed a satchel that I had tied at my waist. Johai came forward and took it from me.
“I’ll make the preparations for you, just ready yourself,” he said.
I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, thanking him silently for his support. He looked down at our connection, and for a moment, I thought he might shake me away, but instead he squeezed back.
Arlene righted the overturned chair and motioned for me to sit. She scowled at me while she did so, but it had lost its earlier conviction. “If you do not perform as you have promised, I will send you back to Danhad and to your king.”
Fear gripped my throat, and I had no rebuttal. I sat down beside the king and looked into his sunken face. Though his skin was stretched tight over his bones, I could see that at one time he had been a handsome man. A faint whisper called to me. I leaned in. It was as if the king was trying to speak, but he did not move. He lay still. The whisper grew to a faint buzz. The scent of the herbs wafted through the air, and the humid feeling of the room settled upon me. I reached out a tentative hand and brushed aside some of the king’s lank, dark curls. My fingertips touched his temple, and a bolt rippled through me.
The vision gripped me hard and fast. There was no subtle easing into it. The room swayed, and I had enough sense to fall forward in the chair to lay my head beside him before it pulled me in.
I overlooked the landscape. Rolling hills were dotted with pavilions and tents. Fires twinkled along the ground like hundreds of fallen stars. The moon was full, and the wisps of smoke from the fires could be seen climbing to the sky. In the distance, a banner waved beneath the feeble light of the moon, lending it a ghostly appearance. The blue field looked like the night sky, and the silver tree upon the banner appeared translucent. The royal banner of Danhad flickered in the wind. I looked to my left, and the king of Neaux stood beside me. Not thin and frail as I had last seen him, but a man of his early middle years. He was broad shouldered, and his arms were corded with muscles. His temples had a streak of silver in his otherwise dark hair.
“You heard my voice, diviner?” He turned away from the campsite in the distance and looked at me.
“You were calling out to me?” It surprised me to have him address me within the dream space. The only one who had done that before was the first diviner.
“I have been calling out for a very long time. I thought there was no one left to hear me.” He folded his hands behind his back and looked out across the rolling hills once more. Shadows moved in front of the campfires, and grim songs of war carried on the breeze.
“Are you the one who sent me the dream of Sarelle and your death?”
He shook his head. “Not me, though I suspect our dreams are the same. I am sure you have gathered by now how influential Princess Sarelle’s death was.”
“Her death set everything in motion. Adair and Sabine’s wedding, the death of King Dallin and perhaps…”
“You hesitate to say it. I will say it for you. Sarelle’s death sealed my fate as it sealed yours. I have been dreaming a long time, and all that I am sure of is everything is connected to death in a white mask.”
A chill ran up my spine. “I know the vision of which you speak. I am looking for answers to prevent that monster from rising.”
The king studied me for a moment. “I dreamed of you falling from this spot.” He pointed to the edge of the widow’s walk on which we stood. “You were speaking with a man with white hair. You argued, and then he pushed you from here. In another dream, you stabbed him with a dagger. Which is truth; which is fantasy?”
I swallowed past a lump in my throat. “I do not know.”
“I see. He is the vessel, is he not?”
“He is,” I conceded.
The king hummed.
“What all have you seen in your dreams, Your Majesty?”
He did not answer me and instead looked out across the landscape. I drew close to him and looked alongside him. I realized we were in his memory of the war with Danhad. If we were to pinpoint a real start, it would be with the war between Danhad and Neaux. It lasted for generations and nearly destroyed both our kingdoms before King Reynard and King Dallin came to peace terms, each giving their daughter to the other kingdom to foster as political hostages as an assurance for an everlasting peace. Now King Dallin was dead, and King Reynard was dying. Will the peace hold after their deaths? Is this a part of what I am meant to stop?
“Your Majesty, the need is great. If you have anything that could aid us…” I said.
“I cared for Sarelle as if she were one of my own daughters. Her death grieved me.” He sighed and turned to look at me. “I cannot trap you here in my memories forever. I have something to show you.”
He led me away from the ledge, and we walked through the palace together. Our footsteps made no sound as we tread, and I felt disoriented, as if we were traversing through time itself.
One thing perplexed me. I had thought that visions like these could only be revealed to diviners, and so I asked him. “How are you able to dream like this and move so effortlessly through the dreaming world? Do you possess magic?”
He did not turn to look at me as he answered. “I suppose you could call it that. Neaux and Biski have close roots, though they are distant now. This land was all one people long ago, before the Danhadines came here and the war began. Most have forgotten, even I did until she awoke me.”
“She?”
“You shall see.”
He led me on, and we shared a comfortable silence. I had so many questions I did not know where to begin. We stopped before double doors, the same I had walked through to get into his chambers, but the guards were not there. He threw open the doors, and inside, a woman stood beside his bed.
At first I thought I was looking upon a reflection of the past, the moment I had first come into the room and Princess Arlene had been standing there, until I realized who it was. The first diviner, shrouded in her cloak, seemed out of place in the king’s opulent bedroom.
She
turned to face me. “It has been a long time, daughter of my blood.” She pulled back her hood, and I held my breath; at last her identity would be revealed.
The face that stared back at me was like a reflection of my own but slightly altered. Her nose was broader, and her eyes a more almond shape. Her lips were full like two flower petals.
“Maea,” my mother said.
My throat caught, and I could not find the words, though memories of her were blurred at best. I knew it to be her like a gut instinct.
“You were the one?” I asked. “Have you been guiding me this entire time?”
“Yes and no. She and I are both separate and apart, one yet divided.”
There were so many questions I wanted to ask her, and none of them had a place here. My mother had killed herself when I was a child. After her death, I was left on the streets to fend for myself until Johai found me and took me away from a life of starvation and hardship. Why did you leave me alone? I wanted to scream at her. Why did you not care enough about me to fight to live on!
“Will you listen?” she asked, and I considered refusing her explanation, turning away from her. However, I knew she was the one person who could answer my questions.
“Yes.”
She shed her cloak, and beneath it was a silk gown cut high and gathered beneath her breasts. The style was different than that of Danhad and Neaux. Without her usual hood and veil, I could see how beautiful she really was.
“I know that you must despise me for what I have done. To leave you, an innocent child defenseless, it was unspeakable.”
“It was,” I said.
She did not flinch from my blunt manner but gazed at me with her piercing violet eyes. Eyes I had inherited from her. I had inherited her legacy and her curse. “Believe when I say, had there been another choice, I would have taken it. Everything I did was to protect you.”
[fan] diviners trilogy - complete series Page 48
