Godfire

by Cara Witter

  Reisa would laugh, Perchaya thought, running her fingers over the silk bedding, breathing in the scent of wild lavender from a vase by her bed, watching the way the colored glass screens over the light globes made a beautiful decorative pattern on the wall, replacing any need for tapestries. Well, first she would scold me for only now sending a single letter to let her know that I’m alive. And then laugh. And then ask if I’ve kissed Kenton yet.

  As if that thought had summoned him, Kenton strode into the bedchamber from their personal sitting room. Perchaya hoped, as usual, that her thoughts weren’t as obvious on her face as she felt they were. Her brain still stuttered over pretending to be Kenton’s wife. That meant they would share this chamber and show affection in public. They’d slept near each other on the road many times—Kenton always stayed close by, even once the others had joined them. But somehow, this felt different.

  “It’s time,” Kenton said, with his typical lack of preamble. Even dressed in noble fashions and colors she’d only ever seen worn by certain rare birds, he still managed to be Kenton—resolute, brimming with purpose.

  And the only man she could imagine ever trusting to get them all through this.

  She let out a breath and tugged her long silk gloves back on. Not only did they hide the ring even here, they covered her missing fingernail, still a grisly sight even weeks later, and definitely not something one would see on a noblewoman. “Daniella’s ready?”

  Daniella, as their translator, shared quarters with Sayvil and Nikaenor just down the hallway. Apparently visiting nobility liked to have their own personal attendants close. Or housing all the visitors together allowed the guards to keep a closer eye on them. Perchaya hoped that wasn’t the case, especially given the next stage in the plan. She fought a rising blush at the thought of it.

  “She’s just outside, waiting for us. It’s dark out now, or at least it should be, given what Saara told us about how they dim the hall globes at night.” Kenton eyed the brightly lit globe in their bedroom behind its colored screen, and then looked back at her. A smile twitched at his lips. “I’ve heard the sight of the city at night is something that needs to be seen. So shall we take a late-night palace stroll, my lady?”

  “I thought you’d never ask, my lord,” she replied with a return smile, taking his formally extended arm. And then proceeded to trip over her ridiculously long skirts, which were apparently the current fashion.

  Kenton steadied her before she completely toppled over.

  “I guess we forgot to factor in my complete inability to walk in these clothes,” she said.

  He grinned at her. “Actually, acting like we’ve had too much to drink can only help with this next bit.”

  They found Daniella waiting outside their door, already chatting with one of the palace servants in Tirostaari. The servant fell silent and stood straighter when Kenton and Perchaya emerged into the hallway, though his eyes stared at some point near their feet.

  Perchaya wasn’t exactly comfortable with deference like this, but she supposed this custom was better than the mainland servants, who constantly bowed and curtsied every time nobility entered a room.

  Daniella, however, bobbed down in a short curtsy. “My lord, my lady,” she said in Sevairnese. “Finar here—” a gesture to the servant, who didn’t look up, “says he will be happy to show us to a balcony where you can take in the city.”

  “Tell Finar we thank him,” Kenton instructed.

  Daniella did so—or, presumably she did. Finar looked up with a shy smile at them. Apparently, servants could make eye contact once they were acknowledged? Perchaya wasn’t sure, but she was glad he didn’t feel the need to stare at the ground any more. He was a young man, maybe a couple years younger than Nikaenor’s, with the black fuzz of a beginning mustache across his upper lip.

  She smiled encouragingly back at him, and he beckoned them down the hall. Kenton and Perchaya followed behind as Daniella and Finar talked, with Daniella translating tidbits about the palace. Judging by the look on Kenton’s face, he’d have preferred less information about the number of light charms the palace used in a month and more information about the size of the armory, but Daniella was clearly in her element, happily soaking in her surroundings, asking questions in Tirostaari that Kenton and Perchaya hadn’t bothered to ask.

  “What did you say?” Perchaya asked her.

  Daniella blushed, like she’d forgotten her role. “I asked him how the other parts of the city are lit. It’s mostly light charms, he says. Between those and the wind charms for the kites, the Hirsetti students are kept busy.”

  “They’re Vorgalian,” Kenton said to Perchaya. “Or their magic is. They have their own schools here, so they don’t go to Vorgale.”

  Perchaya nodded. She remembered something about that from a book she’d read once. The practitioners of Hirset were freer with their secrets than the Vorgalians—but not with foreigners.

  “Well, the lights are lovely,” Perchaya said. Daniella dutifully translated, and Finar smiled graciously.

  He didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, even if Daniella was talking a bit faster than usual, wetting her lips nervously. Perchaya guessed that was more concern for Jaeme than for this part in her role; the two had spent so much time together on the boat over from Berlaith. It had made Perchaya wish that she and Kenton could share the same easy rapport. He’d spent much of his time going over maps of the palace with Saara or rehearsing every part of the plan with each of them. Or often, just standing out on the deck, staring out at the sea.

  She shouldn’t care. This journey wasn’t about her, and it definitely wasn’t about her and Kenton. But it was hard to feel like she could possibly compete for his attention now that he had the bearers he’d searched for his whole life.

  Perchaya shook herself free of those thoughts. She should be paying attention to where they were going. But even if she had been, she doubted they’d be able to find their way to their rooms if Finar or some other servant didn’t lead them back. The hallways in the palace were more spacious than she would have expected inside of a mountain, and brighter as well, even with the light globes dimmed for the evening with their special cloth coverings. The walls and floor were smooth and sand colored, with mineral veins spidering through. But there was little in the way of décor to distinguish one hallway from the next, or determine which wooden door led to a bedchamber and which to a dining hall.

  Finally, though, Perchaya began feeling a chill and a freshness in the air. Finar stopped and gestured around the corner, saying something in Tirostaari.

  “He says that just down at the end of this hallway is a balcony with a view,” Daniella said. “And that he will wait here to take us back as soon as you’re ready.”

  Kenton took a few steps forward to see around the corner, paused, and then turned back. “Perhaps you and Finar can wait a little further off,” he said. “The balcony is awfully close by, and my wife and I were hoping for a little more . . . privacy.”

  Daniella nodded—after giving Perchaya a knowing look that Perchaya pretended to ignore—and spoke to Finar, whose eyes widened before he caught himself and resumed a more neutral expression.

  Perchaya giggled and slipped an arm around Kenton. She couldn’t help it, and he’d said she should act a bit tipsy. He responded without pause, pulling her in closer and tickling her waist, which caused her to laugh for real.

  Perchaya knew the entire thing was for show—they’d assumed the servants would be reticent to leave them alone in any part of the palace outside of their rooms, making it difficult for them to be sure the balcony was clear for Jaeme and Saara to land. But being in his arms like this, she felt like every part of her was ablaze, the flames stoked by his throaty chuckle in her ear as he bent down to nuzzle his head against hers. Their fingers laced together as if they’d always belonged that way.

  Daniella cleared her throat, and Perch
aya snapped back into reality. Or as much as she could while still being pressed against Kenton’s side, his arm around her, the warmth of his fingers entwined with hers.

  Finar was trying to hide the goofy smile that kept creeping over his face, the blush coloring his bronze cheeks.

  “Finar says he would be happy to tell me more about the palace and the city,” Daniella said. “Farther away. He also said that while there is little reason for servants to be about this hallway at this time of night, guards and late-night couriers can arrive via kite at any time, so you might not want to spend too long . . . sightseeing.”

  “Thank you for that wise advice,” Kenton said. Perchaya looked up at Kenton’s face just in time to see him wink at the servant. Daniella raised her eyebrows at Perchaya, then steered the servant back the way they’d come, chatting in lilting Tirostaari that faded as they turned a corner.

  As soon as they were out of sight, Kenton dropped his arms from Perchaya’s waist as if her corset had just caught fire. Any aspect of desire on his expression was erased. “Jaeme and Saara had better be on time,” he said. “There’s only so much we can do to provide them a window in which to land.”

  Perchaya smiled weakly, though her heart had sunk to somewhere near her fashionable slippers.

  It was all for the plan, she reminded herself. He would never think of her that way, no matter how she thought of him. She followed behind as they walked the short distance to the balcony, the night air raising goosebumps on the bare part of her arms below her elbows. Or maybe they were still there from his touch, from being pressed so close against him.

  The balcony was large and the top of the stone railing was lit with more of the glass globes containing light charms. Perchaya gazed out, and her breath caught at how spectacular the city was at night. Balconies dotted across the opposite cliff face, equally well lit, and reflected like dozens of moons on the river below. Several large statues across the way were also lit in vibrant greens and cool blues. She could make out the shapes of the kites in the sky, making leisurely trips across the canyon.

  Which reminded her how very exposed they were here.

  Perchaya flushed again and rubbed her arms briskly. “There’s so many balconies, and there’s no way they can make out that it’s us from all the way across the canyon. Will our signal be enough?”

  “Between the two of them, one has to have decent eyesight, right?” Kenton leaned on the railing, casually covering the third globe from the left with his sleeve. “And finally I see the real purpose of all this ridiculous extra fabric.”

  “Definitely,” Perchaya said, leaning onto the railing herself, though careful not to block any of the other globes. “Secret light globe signaling. It’s the only explanation for noble fashion in general.”

  He gave her one of his rare lopsided smiles, the kind that made him look years younger and less haunted, but didn’t say anything else. They stared out at the city for a while longer, Perchaya trying hard not to watch the skies too anxiously, to appear like a noblewoman out to enjoy the view, nothing more.

  She also tried not to think too much about those dark alcoves mere feet behind them. Of his arms around her, and how, if they were really married, he might at least drape one of them over her shoulder.

  “So,” Kenton said, after the long silence had stretched out between them, “Maybe we should start making some noises. You know, in case anyone’s coming to check on us.” He raised his eyebrow at her, a smile teasing at his lips. “You first.”

  Perchaya laughed so suddenly she choked and ended up sputtering instead. “Oh no,” she finally managed. “If that is happening, you are definitely going first.”

  His smile became a full grin, and he opened his mouth to speak—or maybe, gods help her, actually make the sounds of a passionate tryst—when his eyes darted upward, widening. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back, just as a large shadow descended towards them.

  She barely had to time to hope it wasn’t the actual guard when the huge kite came into the light, and she saw the two figures harnessed in and hanging on to the bar in front, coming in faster than seemed safe.

  Saara managed to guide the kite close enough to the middle of the balcony that they were able to raise their knees over the railing and land, collapsing in a heap with the kite on top of them.

  They’d made it, and they were alive.

  Kenton helped pull the huge wings of the kite off of them, and Perchaya joined him. Jaeme was both deathly pale and splotchy red in the face, spitting out a string of what Perchaya could only assume were very strong Mortichean expletives. Saara unbuckled him from the harness and he fell back with a low moan.

  “I hate you all,” he said.

  “That’s too bad,” Kenton said. “And here I was starting to think you and I really had something meaningful.”

  Saara stood briskly, helping Kenton hoist the kite up to the hooks on the wall of the short hallway leading to the balcony.

  Perchaya knelt down by Jaeme, who was still lying on his back, covering his face with his hands and taking shallow breaths, though at least he’d stopped cursing. “Are you all right?” she asked, placing a hand on his arm.

  He drew in a long breath and let it out as slowly as he could likely manage, removing his hands from his face.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Thanks. Just remind me to never take the ground for granted again.” He took in the balcony and then his eyes darted back to Perchaya. “How is . . . everyone?”

  Perchaya smiled, knowing exactly who he was most concerned about. “Everyone is fine,” she said quietly. “And off learning lots of interesting facts about the palace to distract the servant.”

  Jaeme nodded and breathed again a few more times before pushing himself to his feet.

  “Everyone can probably only keep the servant away for so long,” Kenton said. “So we should get you two hidden for the night.”

  Jaeme groaned. “Why in all the hells above and below did I ever agree to this?”

  “My charm?” Kenton ventured.

  Jaeme glared at him in response, his sense of humor likely somewhere back on the cliff face. Perchaya, on the other hand, found herself wishing she could have been the one to fly. She couldn’t help but be proud that, in this small thing at least, she had more bravery than a knight of Mortiche.

  “To the sewers, then?” she asked.

  Saara nodded and wrapped her head scarf so it covered her face below her eyes. They were hopefully not going to meet anyone on the way, but they couldn’t risk a surprise encounter with someone who’d recognize her. Jaeme stayed back in the shadows, waiting for now. Saara could easily be a guard who’d just arrived, but even dressed in a nondescript Tirostaari tunic and loose trousers, Jaeme looked rather out of place.

  They verified that the cross hallways were clear, and Saara went three doors down to the right and poked her head in a dark room. She ducked back out and motioned to them to follow her in.

  The room they entered didn’t have any light globes, but from the light in the hallway, Perchaya could make out a number of large stone basins, as well as clothes hanging from strings crossing the room.

  “The laundry?” she asked.

  “All that dirty water has to go somewhere,” Saara responded, and pointed to a circular grate in the middle of the floor. “I’m just glad they led you to this balcony. At the next one up, we would have been going in through a privy.”

  Jaeme sighed and bent down to work the stone around the bolts of the iron grate. “We’re still spending the night in the sewer, then using it to traverse the palace. Whether here or elsewhere, I’m going to be seriously questioning my life choices.”

  Kenton clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit. So you two have this?”

  Saara nodded, just as Jaeme pulled one bolt free. “We’ll see you tomorrow. I look forward to saying hello to my aunt again.” The
fierce smile on her face indicated exactly what kind of greeting she was looking forward to giving.

  “Then we’d better get back. Our sightseeing time is up.” Kenton offered his arm to Perchaya in the formal noble fashion, and Perchaya took it, though she felt somewhat less enthused with his touch than she had before.

  They left the laundry room just as Jaeme had worked the third bolt free and was ready to move the grate and drop down inside. She and Kenton walked back down the hallway, past the intersection leading to the balcony, and on to where they’d seen Daniella and Finar go.

  As they turned down that hallway, they heard faint voices.

  “Finar?” Kenton called.

  The voices paused, and a moment later Daniella and Finar came around the bend from another hallway. Finar gave them another big grin, which widened as Kenton put his arm around Perchaya and pulled her close against his side again.

  This time, though, all it caused was a deep ache in her chest.

  “Thank you for allowing us some privacy,” Kenton said. “The view was truly amazing. Though we did surprise an arriving guard.”

  Perchaya nodded enthusiastically, even if she didn’t feel it. At least the plan had gone off well. If anyone had seen the kite arrive at that balcony at the time they were allegedly having their rendezvous, or saw the kite now hanging on the wall, now there would be word that a guard had indeed caught them. Finar was unlikely to question the guards one by one to discover that none of them had.

  Finar chuckled as Daniella translated Kenton’s words, and then he led them along the winding path to their rooms. Daniella fell back with them just enough to give Perchaya a questioning look, the concern for the other members of their party written all over her face.

  Perchaya nodded and squeezed her hand.

  And then they were back by their quarters, bidding Finar thanks for his late-night tour of the palace. Daniella ducked into the room she shared with Sayvil, and Perchaya and Kenton were alone in their room again.