Starless

by Jacqueline Carey

  I told her about that, too; and I will own, it was gratifying to see the awe and horror in her gaze.

  “I am quite sure I would have screamed,” she said. “Screamed and hobbled away as fast as my canes could bear me.”

  “I am not so sure of that, my lady,” I said to her. “There is fire inside you. I can see it.”

  Her eyes had closed again. “They say Zar’s fire runs in the veins of the Sun-Blessed,” she murmured. “But I have never felt it. Perhaps it is because I am too young to partake of the rhamanthus. Oh, but perhaps I will declare myself bhazim—can one do such a thing? And we will run away together, you and I, to the ends of the earth. We will swim with the Elehuddin and learn to speak their whistling tongue, consult with the Oracle of the Nexus, seek the Speaking Stone in the drowned ruins of Koronis, and pluck a drop of amber from the Lone Tree of the Barren Isle…”

  My skin prickled with alarm at the mention; but no, Zariya was merely dreaming aloud. Her voice drifted off as she fell into slumber, her breathing coming easier as she slept.

  I gazed at her for a time, overwhelmed at the nearness of her, at the flesh-and-blood realness of her.

  My soul’s twin.

  I wished I had Zariya’s effortless gift of affection to tell her how I felt, to bestow careless endearments and touches; and yet at the same time, it was unnecessary. She knew. We knew. And no matter what counsel Vironesh had given me, Zariya was right. The Sacred Twins had joined our fates. My place was at her side. Honor beyond honor; I did not question it now. It seemed impossible that we had known each other in the flesh for less than a day, for we belonged to each other forever.

  I would do anything to keep her safe.

  Anything.

  My heart too full for sleep, I rose and prowled her chambers on soundless feet. The blue and green and yellow birds twittered, fluttering from perch to perch in their wooden cage, cocking their heads and watching me. Unable to resist, I poked my fingers through the bars, smiling as the birds nibbled at them with their hard little beaks. I tested the latch on the door to the sitting room and determined it could be a good deal stronger. I peered at the fretwork, thinking about things that could be passed through it—noxious vapors, a slender serpent.

  In the sleeping chamber, I stowed my battered leather satchel in a corner and made a note to drag my pallet in front of the doorway when we slept, so that anyone attempting to enter unbidden would encounter me first.

  There were no latches securing the doors and shuttered windows that led into the garden. I explored the garden, rubbing leaves of unfamiliar plants between my fingers and sniffing them. I found nothing harmful.

  The wall concerned me, though. From the inside, it was no higher than twice my height. If the same held true for the outside, it would be easily scaled by any would-be intruder.

  Mindful of Zariya sleeping on the divan, I held off attempting it, returning instead to sit cross-legged beside her. There was no breeze, and the midday heat was oppressive. I leaned my head against the wall and dozed.

  I awoke to a tickling sensation beneath my nose and sneezed, springing to my feet in a blind panic, my hands reaching for my weapons.

  “Oh, Khai!” Zariya caught her breath with a laugh. She waved a small blue feather with downy tufts at the base in one hand. “I’m so sorry. It’s only that you looked so peaceful, I couldn’t help myself.”

  Feeling foolish, I scowled at her. “Does it amuse you to mock me, my lady?”

  “A little.” Refreshed by sleep, her eyes sparkled unrepentantly. “You are so very serious, my shadow.”

  I could not be angry at her.

  One day that would change, I guessed. We were human, with human weaknesses and foibles. Right now, our bond was too new, too precious, too overwhelming to allow for criticism. One day we might quarrel, but not today. Thinking on what Vironesh had said to me, I suspected he had let his heart give way to his head while serving as Prince Kazaran’s shadow; thinking on what Zariya had told me, I suspected that while Kazaran may have been the brightest and boldest of King Azarkal’s sons, he had not been the most cunning.

  To the lion go the spoils …

  Vironesh had regrets.

  I did not want to have regrets. And I did not ever want to see the sparkle in Zariya’s eyes dimmed. “Forgive me, I am unaccustomed to such teasing.” I smiled at her. “Will you think me too serious altogether if I tell you that I am concerned about the wall enclosing the garden? Begging your indulgence, I would survey it.”

  She sobered. “Of course.”

  Leaning on her canes, Zariya followed me into the garden and peered up at the wall with a frown. “I believe there is a considerable drop on the far side, but you’re right, I cannot attest to it. Shall I send for a ladder?”

  “A ladder?” I laughed. “No.”

  After more hours of inactivity than I could remember, it was a blessed relief to scale the wall. I took a running leap at the northwestern corner and propelled myself upward with a couple quick toe-holds, catching the top of the wall and hauling myself upright atop it. From this vantage point, I could see much of the city of Merabaht spread out before me, and the ocean shining in the distance. A pleasant breeze tugged at my hair and clothing. I saw that Zariya was right: There was indeed a steep drop to the rocks below, perhaps some fifty feet or so. One could scale it with a grappling hook, but it would not be easy and access was guarded by the barracks of the Royal Guard.

  “Khai! Khai!”

  Glancing down, I saw Zariya looking pale. “My lady?”

  Her voice trembled. “Please come down from there before you fall to your death, you mad thing!”

  I nearly laughed again at the thought of it before realizing that she was genuinely terrified. “In a trice, my lady,” I said with a respectful salute. “Only allow me to ensure the whole perimeter is safe.”

  I completed a circuit of the three walls enclosing the garden as quickly as I dared, conscious all the while of Zariya’s fear-stricken gaze fixed upon me, then lowered myself by my arms to drop lightly to the ground.

  Zariya sighed with relief. “There is a considerable drop, isn’t there?” I nodded. She gave me a complicated look. “Oh, my poor darling. We’ve caged a hawk, haven’t we? I pray you can bear it here.”

  “For your sake, I can bear anything,” I said.

  “I hope so.” Her demeanor eased. “Well, I’ve never seen anyone run up a wall before! Tell me, what other skills are you hiding?”

  I smiled.

  TWENTY-THREE

  I told Zariya everything; or almost everything.

  I did not tell her about the Teardrop, for I could see no point to it. An innocent man had died for it, and it was not a secret with which I wanted to burden her. But I told her about Brother Yarit and the Shahalim Clan training I had undergone.

  Zariya listened to it wide-eyed. “It’s like something out of an old story,” she murmured when I had finished. “Though I’m not sure to what use we might put such skills … Khai, does anyone outside the Brotherhood of Pahrkun know about this?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Tell no one,” she said decisively. “Whether there’s a purpose to be discovered or not, it’s best no one knows what you’re capable of.”

  “I wasn’t planning to,” I assured her.

  She gave me a rueful smile. “So many skills! I feel more inadequate than ever, my shadow.”

  “Oh, but you know so much more than me!” I said in surprise. “I have never heard of the Elehuddin or Liko of Koronis or … my lady, I do not know what a volcano is or why it should cause an island to sink beneath the sea.”

  “It’s a mountain that breathes fire,” Zariya said. “This one erupted in gouts of molten stone, causing the earth to shake and the seas to rise … you needn’t call me ‘my lady,’ you know.”

  “Shall I call you ‘Your Highness,’ then?” I asked. “I’m sorry, no one knew what the protocol among the royal women might be.”

  She wri
nkled her nose at me. “Call me by my name.”

  “Zariya.” Although I had known her name all my life, it felt strangely intimate to say it to her face.

  Still, it made her smile; and that made my heart sing. “Better.” There was a tentative rapping at the door to her chambers. “Yes?”

  “Your Highness?” It was the maidservant Nalah’s voice, sounding contrite. “Your lady mother bids me summon you to the baths.”

  “Ah.” Zariya reached for her canes. “Then I suppose I must go. Come with me, my heart.”

  Nothing in my experience had prepared me for such a thing as the baths in the women’s quarter in the Palace of the Sun, and to this day, I blush to remember it. Oh, it was no fault of mine; nor, truly, that of the brothers who raised me. When Brother Saan made the choice to raise me as bhazim, he implemented a strict code of modesty when it came to such matters, one to which the entire brotherhood adhered. And, too, the desert imposed its own strictures. Water was precious and used sparingly. Prior to my brief stay in the barracks of the Royal Guard, in my experience, bathing entailed a brisk scrub with a dipperful of water and a handful of clean sand.

  Here …

  It was an immense space lit from above by high windows, the walls covered with smooth tiles with intricate, colorful designs. Water spilled from an unseen source into a vast marble pool that was somehow heated from below, for steam rose from its surface, making the air dense and moist with its vapors. And although the steam caught in my throat, I was grateful for its presence, for the wreathing curls served to partially shroud the figures of at least half a dozen naked women.

  If I had been shocked at seeing so many women’s unveiled faces, it was nothing to this.

  Panic rose in me. “I cannot do this,” I whispered to Zariya, who was seated on a low stool, allowing Nalah to divest her of her silk robes. “Please do not ask it of me.”

  “Of course I will not force you,” she said in a pragmatic tone. “But the baths are the heart and soul of the women’s quarter. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to confront them.”

  I said nothing.

  There was nowhere safe to rest my gaze. This was wholly a women’s place, where not even members of the Queen’s Guard were admitted. Female servants in thin linen shifts poured ewers of scented water over the bathers, undid their braids and combed out their hair, rubbed their skin with pumice, offered them delicacies on platters. The royal women laughed and chatted in deceptively amicable accord, though I suspected there were subtle barbs aplenty in those exchanges.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nalah finish undressing Zariya and fold her clothing away neatly. She took Zariya’s elbow to steady her as they crossed the slippery marble floor, helping her step carefully into the hot pool and ease herself to sit in the waist-deep water.

  My place was at Zariya’s side, and yet every part of my upbringing was insisting that I should not be here.

  Her mistress safely ensconced in the pool, Nalah approached me. “May I assist you, chosen?” she inquired. It seemed a term of address had been selected for me. “It would be my honor.”

  “No.” I shook my head at her. “Thank you.”

  She inclined her head, but it seemed to me that there was the slightest hint of contempt in her eyes. “As you will.”

  I felt an uncivilized fool standing there in my woolen desert garb, weapons hanging from my sash. I wondered if Vironesh had dealt with such a quandary; but no, he was not bhazim. In the barracks of the Royal Guard, he’d not hesitated to attend the baths. It was foolish. Until I was eleven years of age and learned I was not a boy, I’d prided myself on going bare-chested in all manner of weather. In the Fortress of the Winds, modesty applied only to the body’s intimate functions, not the body itself.

  And yet … to be wholly naked, a woman among women? The thought of it was profoundly uncomfortable.

  I tried and failed to think what Brother Saan would say to me at this moment. Instead, I found myself envisioning Brother Yarit’s incredulous expression and hearing his voice in my thoughts. Are you serious, kid? What the watery hell are you waiting for? Get the fuck in there!

  It made me smile. “You would say that, Elder Brother,” I murmured.

  Nalah turned back, brows raised. “Your pardon, chosen?”

  “Nothing,” I said to her. “I will attend to myself, thank you. Please leave my things undisturbed.”

  Again she inclined her head. “Of course, chosen.”

  I unwound the heshkrat from my sash, untied my sash, and leaned my yakhan and kopar carefully against a stool. I removed my sandals and stepped out of my woolen breeches. With the quick dexterity that Brother Yarit had taught me, I unbuckled the brace of zims on my left forearm and hid them beneath my breeches, then pulled my tunic over my head. I folded the tunic, unwound the length of cloth that bound my breasts, and folded that, too.

  So.

  Behind me, the interplay of gossip and banter had fallen silent. Even without looking, I knew the royal women of the House of the Ageless were appraising my naked form; speculating, analyzing, passing judgment. I slid the garrote from my hair with another dexterous twist, concealing it in my right hand and tucking it under my tunic. I shook my hair loose, letting it fall over my shoulders.

  So.

  Naked and unarmed, I strode across the marble floor.

  Stepping into the bath felt like crossing a threshold from which there was no return. I sank down into the hot water, resisting the urge to draw my knees up to hide my breasts.

  Zariya reached over and squeezed my hand. “We were just talking about Izaria’s betrothed,” she said in a casual tone. “They’re to wed in a fortnight. Rumor has it that he’s quite handsome.” One of the women giggled—Izaria, that was the sister closest to her in age, the only eligible one yet unwed.

  “He’d better have something to recommend him, my darling,” another woman said smoothly. “Since all the fallen stars know it’s not his family’s wealth.”

  “At least he comes from a good lineage, Rashina.” That was Zariya’s mother, Sanala. “Some of us value breeding over wealth.”

  I let the conversation wash over me, filtering away bits of knowledge. Queen Rashina; she was the one that Vironesh said was ambitious. Although I was careful not to look directly at any of the women’s bodies, there was such an abundance of flesh on display, it was impossible to avoid. Having only ever seen my own woman’s body, it was disconcerting to catch a glimpse of the more fulsome figures, of heavy breasts as full and round as ripe squashes, tipped with large, dark nipples that seemed to spread across their flesh like puddles of oil on a hot rock.

  A maidservant with a ewer approached me. “Shall I wash your hair, chosen?”

  That much I could bear, and at least it might serve to distract me from my discomfort. “Yes, thank you.”

  I will own, it was not unpleasant. The maidservant’s touch was deft and impersonal as she rubbed fragrant soap into my hair and poured water over my head. It was the first time I’d been immersed in water since I’d waded into the Eye of Zar the night of the Three-Moon Blessing, and I liked the feel of it against my skin. The warmth was relaxing, and I was growing accustomed to the dense steam.

  “Khai of the Fortress of the Winds, I do believe you’re enjoying this,” Zariya teased me. “We’ll convert you to courtly ways yet!”

  I stole a sidelong glance at her, smiling a bit. “Some, maybe.”

  “I swear, it’s like watching a charming little romance blossom,” Rashina said in a studied drawl. “My dear Sanala, you’d best see Zariya betrothed before she becomes enamored of her own shadow.”

  I flushed.

  Zariya tilted her head. “Whatsoever you wish to call it, there’s nothing little or charming about it, Aunt,” she said calmly. “In fact, it’s like nothing you could possibly imagine.”

  Her candor took Queen Rashina aback; I don’t know why, since it seemed to me that what was obvious to the king should have been obvious to all. My
soul’s twin had the heart of a lion. “Darling…” Queen Sanala said ineffectually to no one in particular, then let the remainder of her words trail away unspoken. Queen Adinah wore a private smile; the other two, Queen Makesha and Queen Kayaresh, were murmuring together and laughing.

  There are too many of us, and we live too long.

  True words, I thought. I had been raised to hold the Sun-Blessed in reverence; I had not thought to find them so … petty.

  “Oh, please!” Izaria clapped her hands together, her expression imploring. “Can we not go a day without quarreling?” She glanced at her younger sister. “Tell me, my heart, would you rather wed a handsome man or a wealthy one?”

  Zariya considered the question. “If I had the luxury of choice, I would choose a kind man.”

  “A wise choice given your circumstances,” Rashina observed. “Your betrothed may be disappointed to find his bride is damaged goods.”

  “The physicians are quite certain that Zariya is capable of bearing children,” her mother said indignantly. It seemed a familiar argument between them.

  “Is that her only worth?” I asked, the words escaping me before I could think to censor them. Zariya ducked her head and smiled. Beneath the water, her knee nudged mine.

  “Of course not.” Queen Adinah raised her brows. “But it cannot be denied that it is an important measure.”

  “I’m sure Father will choose wisely for me when the time comes.” Zariya changed the subject. “Khai tells me there is a faction of troublemakers in the city calling themselves the Children of Miasmus. Have you heard of such a thing?”

  “The king may have mentioned it in passing,” Queen Adinah said. “But he did not seem overly concerned.”

  “What a dreadful name.” Izaria shuddered. “What sort of trouble are they causing?”

  I told them about the vandalism I had witnessed outside the gem merchant’s shop, though at least I managed to be circumspect enough not to pass on any treasonous speculation. I certainly did not say anything about the fact that Brother Yarit had drawn the black star symbol on the day the Sight passed to him. The matter was of sufficient interest that they discussed it at some length; and yet with a curious indifference, too. It might all have been taking place in some distant realm, not the streets of this very city, and they could not seem to fathom why some denizens of Merabaht might be unhappy with their lot. Gazing at the faces of the servants, schooled to a careful impassivity, I guessed some of them might feel differently, but none of them would dare show it.