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Queen of the Unwanted

Page 48

by Jenna Glass


  Alys shuddered at the thought of what the abigails of Khalpar would go through if Mairahsol revealed them as Mother of All worshippers. The Mother of All cult was frowned upon in Aaltah, but it had never been outlawed, and she couldn’t imagine a king of Aaltah ever ordering “heretics” to such terrible fates even if he were devout himself. Then again, the people of Aaltah were not as strict in their interpretations of the Devotional as those of Khalpar, nor did religion hold such a prominent place in their daily lives.

  “I might think that of Sister Norah,” Chanlix said grimly. “I’ve seen what can happen to a person when hatred festers. But I have a hard time believing she would condemn her sisters to the same fate, no matter how much hatred she harbors in her heart.”

  Alys moved over to one of the work tables, sitting on the stool and fidgeting with the empty vials and papers just to have something to occupy her hands. “And do you think Mairahsol has truly invented a seer’s poison that will allow her to see how my mother cast that spell? If they were trying to reverse the spell, that would definitely explain why King Khalvin sent them here after he’d made it so abundantly clear he wanted nothing to do with us.”

  Chanlix sat on a nearby stool and shook her head. “Kailee has certainly confirmed that Mairahsol is a gifted spell crafter, though of course she never witnessed her trying anything untoward at the Academy. And we know she did something with a seer’s poison and a memory potion. But she also told Kailee that she did not think the spell could be reversed, and Kailee believes she was in earnest.”

  “I can’t let the fate of Women’s Well rest on one person’s judgment. Especially when that person has already shown questionable judgment with regards to Mother Mairahsol.”

  Chanlix nodded. “I’d say we have to act on the assumption that she has invented some new kind of seer’s poison. However, I can’t believe it would truly lead to the reversal of Mother Brynna’s spell. You’ve seen the letter she sent out. She and her daughter and her granddaughter were specifically bred—over the course of generations—to have the magical powers and foresight needed to cast the spell. A man with no legs might watch an acrobat tumble to his heart’s content, but that doesn’t mean he can do a cartwheel himself.”

  “But can we take that chance?” Alys would never forgive her mother for casting that spell, never forgive her for the thousands of innocent lives that were lost or for knowingly sacrificing Jinnell. But that was a far cry from saying she wanted the spell to be reversed. It wouldn’t bring all those dead back to life, and the last thing she wanted was to see women lose control over their own bodies once more.

  “So you think we should condemn Mairahsol to death without trial and hope we can convince King Khalvin that we had nothing to do with her murder?” Chanlix asked doubtfully.

  Alys managed a rueful grin. “Well, no. That doesn’t seem like much in the way of a viable option. Especially not when we have only Sister Norah’s word to go on. You said Kailee was hopeful that Mairahsol was interested in joining us if we could get her safely away?”

  Chanlix lifted a shoulder. “That’s what Kailee says. Despite my strict instructions that she was not to make any offers on our behalf.”

  Alys smiled drolly. “Oh, but Kailee assures us she hasn’t made any offers. She merely suggested possibilities.”

  Chanlix snorted, though Alys was sure her grand magus had not been surprised that Kailee had a will of her own. It was impossible to know the girl and not see that.

  “Besides,” Alys continued, “if Mairahsol truly has invented a seer’s poison that would allow us to see into the past, that speaks of a talent that could be useful to us.”

  Chanlix did not look convinced. “When it comes right down to it, I don’t think Norah’s hate is unreasoning. Something about Mairahsol seems to rub just about everyone—except Kailee—the wrong way.”

  Alys wrinkled her nose in distaste. She herself had spent very little time with the Khalpari delegation, but with only a couple of brief encounters, she had to admit she had much the same impression as Chanlix. Spite practically radiated from both the abigail and the abbess, and if not for the complications, she’d be more than happy to see the last of them sooner rather than later.

  “But you also don’t think we should allow her to return to Khalpar with whatever formula she’s concocted,” Alys said.

  Chanlix sighed. “No. If there’s any chance that potion of hers could work the way she claims…” She shivered.

  “And you don’t think we should kill her.”

  “Just because Mairahsol is an Unwanted Woman doesn’t mean King Khalvin can afford to let a member of his delegation be murdered without reprisal. I suspect Mairahsol’s death would be all the excuse he needed to ally with Aaltah to destroy us. No, I don’t think that’s a great option, either.”

  “So you do want to ask her to remain with us. Even though King Khalvin would find that almost as much of an insult to his kingdom as her murder.”

  “We cannot offer her ordinary political asylum,” Chanlix agreed. “But Kailee already had her halfway persuaded to run away, and she would not be so doggedly followed by those guards if there weren’t already some suspicion that she might try it. We can tell Sister Norah that we’ve, er, taken care of her problem and ask her to convince the rest of the delegation Mairahsol has fled. It’s possible the explanation could save Norah and her sisters from whatever revenge Mairahsol has planned, so I should think she’d be happy to cooperate.”

  “Hmm,” Alys said, thinking over the proposition. If Sister Norah failed to convince the delegation that Mairahsol had run away, then she was likely to meet with the royal inquisitor when she returned to Khalpar. In which case she would eventually be forced to tell the truth. Having King Khalvin think that Alys had killed the Abbess of Khalpar was almost as bad as having actually done it. The crushed flier he had sent back with its unread message said a lot more about his attitude toward Women’s Well than the small chest of gems he had sent with the delegation.

  “It seems that none of our options is particularly appealing,” she said. It was times like these that she was most aware that she was responsible not just for her own fate, not even just for her family’s fate, but for the fate of every inhabitant of Women’s Well. Delnamal longed to wipe them all out, and he and King Khalvin were natural allies. It was perhaps a stroke of luck that they had not joined forces to wipe out Women’s Well already, and the murder—or disappearance—of Mother Mairahsol might negate that stroke of luck.

  “Then we must pick the least unappealing of the lot,” Chanlix said. “And we haven’t the time to wait for the entire royal council to meet and make a decision. If Mother Mairahsol tells anyone else she has succeeded in her mission, then nothing we can do will make her disappearance any less suspicious.”

  “If Mairahsol can be persuaded to stay and assume a new identity, then I suppose that is the decision with the most potential for a positive outcome,” Alys decided, not without some trepidation. “Though I’m not sure how we’ll hide her. She is not exactly inconspicuous.”

  Even if Mairahsol’s face weren’t so prominently disfigured, she would stand out thanks to her inability to speak any but the most rudimentary Continental, despite Kailee’s best efforts. It was impossible to miss her Khalpari origins. Alys was vaguely aware of the lure Kailee had cast—something about inventing a spell to permanently change Mairahsol’s appearance—but such a thing would take time to invent.

  Chanlix seemed about to offer some suggestion, but she was interrupted by the sudden opening of the front door. Both women jumped, though Alys realized belatedly that she had heard the murmur of men’s voices just outside the door, where her honor guardsmen were standing watch.

  Her master of the guard stepped into the room with a grim look on his face. He bowed briefly, then apologized for interrupting.

  “What’s happened?” Alys asked, dread kn
otting in her gut as she rose from the stool and braced herself for news of disaster.

  “She is all right,” the guardsman said, “but Lady Shelvon was attacked.”

  * * *

  —

  Mairah hurried back to the inn, battling against childish, stupid tears. It wasn’t fair! She’d just decided to risk everything to stay, just seen her first glimpse of a possible future where she would not be either the Abbess of Khalpar or a despised abigail. She’d allowed herself for the briefest moment to hope that her years of misery might be over.

  And Norah had decided to destroy that first delicious glimmer of hope.

  Damn her! Mairah hoped the inquisitor would take her apart one slow piece at a time, hoped the bitch would long for her fiery death for days or even weeks before it was granted.

  Mairah swiped at her eyes, her whole body shaking with a combination of fury and terror. She had to escape, had to get out of town before Princess Alysoon sent men to quietly murder her. No doubt Norah would volunteer to do the job herself, but Mairah doubted the princess would leave such a vital task in the hands of a doddering old woman who’d never killed anyone in her life.

  Mairah’s hand was almost on the inn’s front door when she checked herself. The Trapper spell had worn off, so she was visible once more. She had managed to sneak out of the inn only because the guardsmen whose job it was to keep Norah and Mairah under constant surveillance had fallen asleep—likely with a little help from Norah. What would they do if they were now awake and saw Mairah creeping back in?

  Sucking in a trembling breath, Mairah reached out and opened the door, for she could not just run off into the night with no preparation, and reactivating the Trapper spell would do her no good when she’d give herself away the moment the door moved seemingly of its own volition.

  It turned out Mairah needn’t have worried about being stopped by the guards—they were still sound asleep, one snoring while the other had his head cradled in his arms as he drooled on the table. Mairah tried to smile at the barkeep when he glanced over at the sleeping men and rolled his eyes with evident amusement. She felt sure her fear showed clearly on her face, but the barkeep didn’t seem to notice anything unusual, and he made no attempt to stop her as she hurried up the stairs to her room.

  What was she going to do? Fleeing from Women’s Well was a necessity, but where would she flee to?

  Her only choice seemed to be to find her way back to Khalpar somehow. She had succeeded in her mission, and the abbess’s office was now hers for good if she could only return to claim it. Perhaps she could find someplace along the road to hide until the rest of the Khalpari delegation rode by. Solvineld and the guards would no doubt already be poisoned against her thanks to Norah, but they would want to take her back to Khalpar to face justice, at which point she could reveal everything that had happened and triumphantly produce her new seer’s poison. It might actually be to their advantage if she slipped out of town to rejoin them later, for with the help of the Trapper spell, she could avoid the search that they’d been promised would occur before they were allowed to leave.

  She felt little in the way of satisfaction at the thought of that particular victory, not after she’d poisoned herself with hope for a better life. But going home voluntarily was far safer than fleeing and being captured.

  Mairah bit her lip, wondering if this plan of hers was as safe as she’d first assumed. With Norah having already condemned herself and her sisters, every moment Mairah lingered in her presence would be dangerous. Even a frail old woman could knife someone in their sleep if sufficiently motivated, and Mairah would be helpless if she was received by the delegation as a prisoner. Not to mention that Princess Alysoon now had more than enough reason to want Mairah not to make it to Khalpar with her information, which meant the delegation would likely be accompanied by some of Alysoon’s men, whether they were aware of their observers or not.

  No, there were other ways she could find her way home, Mairah decided, and Aaltah seemed the safest route. She could get there easily enough merely by following the road. Though she had seen little on the miserable ride from Grunirswell to Women’s Well, she remembered that the road had converged with another, larger one somewhere just short of Women’s Well. That second road would be the one that led to Aaltah. Alysoon’s troops could not follow her into Aaltah, and despite her still-weak understanding of Continental, Mairah had learned that the Aaltah border was guarded by King Delnamal’s soldiers. She would use the Trapper spell to hide herself whenever anyone was near; then she would cross the border into Aaltah and throw herself on King Delnamal’s mercy. He was King Khalvin’s nephew, after all, and he would surely be willing to send her home. Especially when she told him she knew how to reverse the Curse. (Although, of course, that was a vast overstatement.)

  Mairahsol had few possessions, but she grabbed what she could—including the precious seer’s poison, which she’d poured into a small wineskin—and stuffed it into the pockets of the red robes she had not worn since her first day in town. She also grabbed the Devotional that she had been given to carry with her to Women’s Well. She’d never been devout enough to carry a Devotional, but this one was special, with a thin sheet of hammered gold hidden inside the leather-bound cover. That sheet of gold could store a wealth of elements, and the intention had been that Mairah would use it to smuggle out any crucial elements from Women’s Well that she needed to work her spell to reverse the Curse.

  That plan had sounded reasonably good, until they’d arrived and been informed they would not only be searched physically, but that they would be examined in Mindsight, as well. They would have no choice but to allow the search, and that meant that they would have to make other arrangements to obtain the elements they needed. But, since Mairah was not going to leave with the delegation after all…

  She picked up the Devotional and also grabbed another wineskin, which held the potion she’d made to close Kailee’s Mindseye.

  Delnamal’s border guards would be unlikely to believe her claims that she was the Abbess of Khalpar if she arrived at the border dressed like a free woman, but she didn’t want to leave the inn dressed in her robes for fear of rousing suspicion. Instead, she shoved the robes and wimple down the legs of a pair of ridiculous pantaloons, which seemed to be the favored undergarment of the women in this principality.

  The extra fabric made walking awkward and uncomfortable, but her skirts were just voluminous enough to hide the bulges. Trying not to hurry too conspicuously, she took one last look around the room, hoping to see something that might be of use to her in the journey to come, then slipped out the door once more. If she was right that their room was being watched, she would have very little time to make her escape before pursuit was hot on her heels.

  The barkeep gave her a sharp look when she entered the common room once more, and he seemed on the verge of trying to stop her. He thought better of it at the last moment—presumably because he knew there were others watching her—and she hurried for the door.

  Her heart was pounding as she exited the inn and wondered how long it would take her to reach the Aaltah border on foot. She had no concept of exactly how far it was, nor did she have with her any food or drink to nourish her along the way. She would have loved to have commandeered a cheval, but they were rare and precious in Women’s Well, and therefore well guarded. A horse would have been an acceptable second choice—if only she knew how to ride one.

  The streets of Women’s Well were still eerily silent, just as they had been last time she’d ventured out. Which made the sudden hew and cry in the distance all that much more obvious.

  Dread suffused Mairah’s body as she realized that that must be Princess Alysoon’s troops coming for her already. They had decided against a quiet murder in the night and were going to storm the inn to drag her, screaming, from her bed.

  Sobbing from a combination of terror and loss, Mairah act
ivated the Trapper spell once more, picked up the hem of her skirts, and ran for all she was worth.

  Part Three

  THE FALL

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Alys was sitting in her parlor, drinking an especially strong cup of tea, hoping it would make her feel more alert, when Honor let her know that Kailee and Tynthanal had arrived and wanted to see her.

  “I told them you were resting,” Honor said. “Which is what you ought to be doing. It’s almost dawn.”

  Alys smiled at the familiar rebuke. Honor had been trying to persuade her to take to her bed, if only for a few hours, from the moment Alys had arrived back in the residential wing of the palace. It was true that fatigue dragged at her, mind and body, but she couldn’t imagine lying down and attempting to sleep at the moment.

  “Send them in,” she said, taking another sip of tea. “And then you get some rest. There’s no reason you should be up all night just because I am.”

  “I’ll rest when you do,” Honor replied, then went to fetch Tynthanal and Kailee.

  Alys stood up and rubbed her gritty eyes as her brother and her new sister-in-law were shown in. “I don’t suppose you’re here to tell me Mairahsol has been caught?” she asked with a wistful note in her voice before she bothered to take a good look at them.

  “I’m afraid not,” Tynthanal said, and Alys finally noticed the grim look on his face—and the worried one on Kailee’s.

  “What is it?” she asked, wondering how she could bear more bad news. Mairahsol fleeing Women’s Well with a spell that might undo the magic that made their principality possible in the first place was a disaster beyond her imagining. And it had happened because Alys had allowed herself to be bribed by the chest of gems the Khalpari delegation had brought with them.

 

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