by Keri Arthur
The hush that fell upon the room was deep and rife with speculation. It ran across the silence like electricity, and oddly seemed to take in me as much Saska. But that was no surprise given I was by her side, acting as escort.
It was a position she entrenched by holding out her hand for me to take. I did so, and we walked down the stairs at a slow and regal pace. If Saska sensed the tense anticipation in the room, she didn’t show it. Indeed, what little could be seen of her expression through the mask was serene and remote.
Marcus approached us as we reached the bottom of the stairs. He bowed slightly, and then said, “Lady S, I am so glad you’ve decided to join us.”
“Are you indeed?” Saska murmured. “Here I was thinking you’d rather be rutting with the cow who coveted my place.”
It seemed I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t afraid to speak their mind.
“There has never been anyone else in my heart, m’lady,” he returned, just as softly. The fury and distaste I could see in his eyes did not spill over into his expression or his words. “But no man would or could have remained celibate for such a length of time. Nor, indeed, any woman.”
It was a none-too-subtle reminder that she was pregnant with another man’s child. It didn’t infuriate her, as I’d half expected. It did the opposite. Waves of horror seemed to flow from her and, just for an instant, I thought she was going to turn and run.
Then she glanced at someone over his shoulder and abruptly straightened her shoulders. “Just so, my lord. Perhaps if you’d be so good as to reintroduce me to everyone?” She slipped her hand from mine, but not before she’d squeezed my fingers lightly and whispered, “Thank you.”
As the two of them walked away, I found my gaze searching the nearby crowd, wondering who Saska had glanced at. There were no familiar figures and no one that stirred unease, either in me or in the wind.
I frowned and went in search of Trey, but once again found myself being stopped by the young Lord Tavish. “Lady N,” he said, with a grand flourish. “It is the following night, and I am eager to resume our conversation.”
He was, I couldn’t help but note, rather intoxicated. He’d obviously been gathering courage in the richness of wine, and it made me rather suspect he had not indulged in the type of conversation he was hoping to get from me. Perhaps virginity was more highly prized here in the Reaches than it was in the outer bailey.
I tucked my arm through his and lightly guided him forward. His body was trembling at the light contact and I couldn’t help but wish Ava were with me. She would have relished teaching Tavish the fine art of seduction.
“I am afraid, my dear Lord T, that I am not the woman you should be seeking for the type of conversation you desire.”
I said it as gently as I could, but nevertheless felt the surge of frustration and annoyance in him.
“But you must, because if you do not, my father—” He clammed up suddenly, and heat touched his cheeks.
“Your father will what?” I prompted.
He took a deep breath and blew it out softly. “My father sees the benefits of having Lord Kiro in his debt.”
“But why—?” I stopped abruptly. Trey had mentioned rather casually that Kiro might fancy Tavish for himself. He obviously knew far more than he was admitting. “Your father surely wouldn’t agree to such a liaison if you yourself are not amendable.”
“You don’t know my father,” he said, rather gloomily.
“Then get yourself to both a lady and lord of ease who have studied the finer arts of Astar or the god Drago; lose that which your father plans to barter and enjoy yourself in the process.”
Astar was the goddess of female sexuality and empowerment. Her followers believed a woman should fully explore the pleasures of both her own body and those of her sisters before ever indulging in those of the opposite sex. Such intimate knowledge empowered us in the presence of a man, and made us more able to guide him toward greater pleasure for us both. Her counterpart was the god Drago, whose followers not only believed that a man must spread his seed as far as possible, but that pleasure could and should be taken in whatever form it presented, be it man or woman.
I’d undertaken Astar’s initiation rites as soon as I’d come into puberty, and while I was no priestess, neither I—nor indeed, anyone else in the Nightwatch—could ever be accused of not following the teachings of either god as fully as we were able.
“Laying with a lady would not temper Lord Kiro’s desire.”
“Perhaps not, but there are plenty of gentlemen within that quarter who would offer a similar service.”
He frowned. “I know, but I dare not—”
“Then choose someone within this room other than me. I’m sure there are plenty here, of both sexes, who’d be willing to spend time with a Rossi lord.” I paused, and then added softly, “And after all, does your brother not have a hetaera?”
“Lida?” He snorted. “Even I know that woman is nothing but a schemer. Marcus had best watch his back, because she’s not one who’ll take being scorned lightly.”
That raised my eyebrows. “He no longer lies with her?”
“Not since his lady’s return.”
“He must love Saska greatly.”
Another snort greeted that statement. “He does nothing of the sort, but there are formalities that must be observed, and my brother has always fallen on the side of doing what appears to be right.”
“Have you managed to talk to her yet?”
“No. But she’s come back mad if the whispers of the serfs are anything to go by.” The drink, it seemed, had loosened his tongue greatly.
“What do they whisper?”
“That she hears nonexistent voices, and goes on and on that she can’t do what they ask.” He shook his head. “It was bound to happen, of course, given she was lost for so long.”
“She can’t have been too lost if she carries the child of another.”
“That’s true.” He considered this for a moment, and then said, “Do you think, perhaps, she was not lost but rather sent to a sanitarium?”
Given Kiro was suspicious of her sudden reappearance, I very much doubted it.
Someone cleared their throat behind us. I looked over my shoulder, and was somewhat unsurprised to see Kiro himself. Tavish went red, bowed to us both, and yet again retreated.
I raised an eyebrow as I turned to fully face Kiro. “You seem to have an unusual effect on the young Lord T. It’s almost as if he doesn’t wish to be in your presence in any way, shape, or form.”
“That’s certainly not my wish nor my desire.”
“And yet it’s your desire that scares him.”
His gaze narrowed. “The young Lord T has obviously been very loose of lips this evening.”
“Drinking too much fine wine will do that.” I tilted my head and studied him. “Tell me, Lord K, what does it take to loosen your lips?”
“More than you have, my lady.”
“And yet, here you are, dogging my steps because of some ill-defined secret you think I keep. A lesser woman might perhaps believe that you merely use it as an excuse.”
The smile that teased his lips hinted at amusement, but it failed to touch the darkness in his eyes. “Your Lord T is right—you are an unusual woman. I look forward to further ripostes.” He retrieved a small vial of reddish liquid from his pocket and offered it to me. “Place this in Pyra’s wine. It will release any disinclination to answer questions, but will take an hour to make her pliable for questions.”
Once I’d plucked it from his hand, he bowed lightly and disappeared. I caught a fresh drink from a passing tray waiter, downed it quickly, and then claimed another. It made my head buzz a little too much, but at least it went some ways to drowning the knowledge that Trey had been discussing the possibility of my seducing Pyra with Kiro.
I scanned the crowd, looking for Trey, but the room was too big and had far too many shadowed corners. The wind stirred around me, whispering it was time to seek the
lady P. I took a deep breath and released it slowly, but it didn’t really ease the sudden uncertainty about the path I’d chosen. My attraction to Pyra was real enough, but this place—these people—were leagues above me, and I suspected the games they played might be too.
If I seduced Pyra, I’d be in great danger, of that, I had no doubt.
And yet, the danger to Winterborne was even greater. I was a Nightwatch soldier, trained from a very young age to do whatever it took—to step willingly into death’s path if necessary—to protect this place. And if bedding Pyra to uncover her secrets gave this city a chance to survive the darkness hinted on the wind’s whisperings, then there really wasn’t a choice.
I downed my drink, gathered two more, placed Kiro’s drug in one of them, and then went in search of her.
She was waiting in the far shadows to the left of the doors, her back resting against the railing and her mask dangling idly from one hand.
“Lady N,” she said, her voice warm, “I was beginning to suspect you’d decided against our liaison.”
“I have to admit, it is only the intrigue of what you might wish to discuss with me that has brought me here.”
She laughed softly and accepted the glass of wine from me. “I think we both know talking is not what I desire.”
The wind stirred around me, whispering the need for innocence. “Indeed, we do not.”
She studied me, her gaze suddenly speculative. “Tell me, lady N, are you acquainted with the teachings of the goddess Astar?”
More than just acquainted, I wanted to say, but once again the wind urged against it. “I’m afraid not.”
“Ah, then you are in for such a revelation.” She paused, her anticipation sweet on the air. “Perhaps we should retire to your suites so that I might enlighten you?”
“Lord T might well interrupt—”
“Your Lord T is well and truly occupied. I’ve made sure of that.” She drained her glass, then stepped forward and linked her arm through mine. “Shall we go?”
I hesitated, and then nodded. She guided me down the stairs and—obviously well acquainted with the layout of this place—waved away the pageboys who would have guided us to the suite I shared with Trey. Once we were inside and the door locked, she poured us both another drink then handed it to me gravely. “To the revelations and pleasures of the flesh.”
I echoed her words and silently hoped the truth serum wouldn’t take any longer than an hour to work. While I had no doubt I’d enjoy my time with her, the vague sense of uneasiness I’d felt earlier had returned twofold. What I learned here tonight might well be a key to solving the mystery of what was going on, but it was also about to place me in great danger.
If the wind agreed, she wasn’t saying.
Pyra smiled. “Are you ready, Lady N?”
“I think so.”
“Good.”
She stepped forward and kissed me. It was a gentle thing, little more than a promise of the heat to come. Then, with a prayer to the goddess, she stepped back and began to undress.
Initiation was never hurried. It was an unveiling, a blooming of both the senses and sensuality, one designed to heighten the experience and the pleasure for a first-time initiate. Which I wasn’t, of course, but it was nevertheless beautiful to watch her slow dance to nakedness.
Then it was my turn. I echoed her movements, my body tingling with expectation and the knowledge of what was to come. She gasped when my stains were revealed, but it was a soft sound of surprise and perhaps even passion rather than horror.
She stepped closer and our dance continued, filled with reverent touches that became ever more intimate, until it was no longer just hands, but also tongue. And so it continued until sweat sheened our bodies and desire was so sweet and heavy on the air it was almost liquid. Only then did the goddess allow completion, and while it might not have been what the deeper recesses of my body truly desired, it was nevertheless a more fulfilling initiation than what I’d experienced the first time.
We retired to the bed and continued to worship the goddess for nigh on an hour, after which Pyra murmured a prayer of thankfulness and closed her eyes, a smile teasing her well-kissed lips. I fought the tiredness pounding through my body, fought the need to drift into sleep right alongside her, and said softly, “What secrets do you keep, Pyra? What is your involvement with Lady Saska?”
“She’s my sister.”
I yawned hugely, and then said, “Sister of blood, or sister of the flesh?”
“Neither. She is my apiary sister.”
I knew an apiary was a hive, but had no idea what she meant in this situation. For all I knew, it might have been some sort of secret sisterhood here in the Upper Reaches. “And who else is a member of this apiary?”
She mumbled something I couldn’t quite catch, and then added, “But there’s no one else currently in Winterborne.”
Meaning there were others elsewhere? “What of Lady Hedra? She wears the same bracelets are you.”
Again, I didn’t catch her reply. I leaned closer and said, “Repeat that.”
She did, but even softer. The drug seemed to be working faster than Kiro had implied. And I had to wonder if perhaps I’d accidentally ingested some of it via her lips, because the need for sleep was pounding through my body.
Instead of trying to clarify Hedra’s position in whatever was happening, I asked, “And what is the aim of this apiary?”
“To obey.”
My eyes closed. I forced them open again. “Who is it that you have to obey?”
“The queen.”
So this queen, whoever she was, wasn’t a figment of Saska’s imagination. “And where can we find this queen?”
“Everywhere and nowhere. She’s in our minds and under our very feet.”
Meaning we were dealing with a witch capable of using both air and earth magic? Hadn’t both Kiro and Trey claimed that was impossible?
I yawned hugely; it was becoming a struggle to remain awake, to think. “And does she use the bracelets to communicate with you?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes for longer this time, and tried to think of another question. But my brain was fuzzy and unfocused. Alarm ran through me, but it was a distant thing and couldn’t reach past the fog that was encasing my mind. Whatever question I might have asked died unspoken as sleep finally claimed me.
It was the wind who woke me. She reached through the fog with little courtesy or gentleness, her whisperings harsh and cold in my brain. I stirred, swearing at her, only to become aware of the slight dip in the bed; someone had either climbed in or out of it. I reached out sleepily and realized Pyra was no longer tangled in the sheets with me.
Move, move, move, the wind whispered urgently, tugging at my hair, my arms, and my legs. I rolled over compliantly and forced my eyes open.
To see a flash of silvery white as a knife plunged toward my heart.
6
It might have been the wind that woke me, but it was training that saved me. Even though sleep still rested far too heavily on my limbs, I jackknifed sideways and lashed out with a bare heel. There was a grunt as I connected with flesh and the knife that would have plunged into my chest buried hilt-deep into the bed instead.
The wind hit me like a punch, knocking the air from my lungs and flinging me backward onto the floor. The same air that had hit me now screamed in warning. I rolled sideways and somehow staggered upright, only to be knocked down again as something smashed into my face, cutting my skin and leaving me bleeding and dizzy.
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the lingering sleepiness and saw, out of the corner of my right eye, another flash of movement. I rolled under the vase aimed at my head then surged upward, flinging myself at the woman causing the mayhem. A squeak of surprise left her lips as she jumped off the bed onto the floor. But before I could follow her or pin her, the wind hit me, forcing me backward. I swore, and she spun around me, apologetic even as she kept pushing me, until my back was
pressed against the far wall and the force of her was so great I could barely even draw breath.
“I’m sorry it has come to an end such as this.” Pyra climbed to her feet. “I would have liked to have dallied with you a little more.”
“You don’t have to obey the voices,” I said, even as I admonished the wind for doing this to me.
Reach, she advised. You have the power.
If that were true, I wouldn’t currently be pinned to the wall. But I did as she bid and reached into the maelstrom, trying to get past it, trying to gain control, to get some help. The air quivered and twisted and fought, and the power of her confusion seemed to echo through the stone beneath my bare feet.
“Don’t do this, Pyra,” I said, desperate to buy time. Time for the wind to break her control, time for me to get free so that I could fight. Or even time for someone to hear all the noise and come to my aid. Because surely in a place such as this, someone had to be near.
Pyra smiled and reached for the knife—my knife, I noted somewhat ironically. “That’s not possible.”
“And yet Saska fights them.”
Something flickered in her eyes; something that was bitter, and not wholly human. “Saska will be brought to heel once you’re out of the way.”
“I have nothing to do with her resistance.”
The vibrations running under my feet were now so strong that the stone floor was beginning to heave and writhe. Quake. And yet how was that even possible? The only other time we’d experienced such an event was during the bitter final moments of the war, after the earth witches had drawn so much power from the surrounding land that it caused massive landslips on either side of Winterborne and plunged thousands to their deaths.
“You have everything to do with it.” Pyra’s voice was flat. “It was no coincidence you found her. She called you. She still calls you. You’re her strength and her touchstone.”
And she was mad. There was no other explanation for thoughts like that.
She walked toward me, her fingers white with the fierceness of her grip on my knife. But the air pinning me in place was also hampering her movements; it wasn’t stopping her, but it was at least slowing her, making her fight for every inch she gained.
