Whispering Twilight

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Whispering Twilight Page 15

by Melissa McShane


  All of them left Bess’s room together, but once outside, the gawky woman gestured to Bess to follow her and strode off across the plaza, ignoring Quispe and Inkasisa, who turned and walked away in a different direction. Bess stumbled a few times, making the woman slow her steps, but Bess had become familiar with the path to the palace, as she was coming to think of the large stone structure under the mountain, and she was able to keep up readily.

  “What is your name?” she asked, somewhat breathlessly from the pace the woman set. The woman glanced over her shoulder. Bess pointed to herself and said, “Bess,” then pointed at the woman.

  The woman examined Bess without stopping. “Taruka,” she said.

  “Taruka,” Bess repeated. “Agradiseyki, Taruka.”

  Taruka looked at Bess again. This time, she seemed puzzled, but said nothing. Bess smiled and got no response. Well, it was not as if she had to be friends with these people. Though Quispe and Inkasisa had been kind, and no one had threatened her…but did that matter, since they had kidnapped her? Kind or not, she needed to remember that these were not her friends.

  Her temples tingled, and Eleanora said, Good morning, Bess. It is morning where you are, correct? Are you well?

  Well enough, Bess said. I am being taken to the palace, but I do not know why. I have seen the woman leading me before, but only once. She stumbled again and added, It seems I cannot Speak and walk at the same time. I beg your pardon, but I will Speak with you another time.

  Take care, Bess, Eleanora said.

  Taruka led Bess through the corridors of the palace, past the cooking room, which smelled delicious, and to Achik’s chamber. Achik waited within, seated on the low stool. He spoke to Taruka when she entered, and Taruka responded at length, glancing now and then at Bess. Bess stood and waited. Such bad manners, to speak of her as if she were not present! And in a language she could not understand, too. She felt no guilt at reading their minds, though she could make little of what she perceived other than to confirm they spoke about her. In addition to images, she caught flashes of spoken words, reminding her that she needed to Speak to Clarissa about the potential development of her new talent. Would she eventually be able to overhear words as well as images? She could not decide if the idea excited or frightened her.

  Finally, the conversation wound down, and Achik gestured to Bess to take a seat as if he had forgotten she was there. Taruka took up a waiting position by the doorway, making Bess feel as if a vulture were hovering over her shoulder, waiting for her moment to pounce. She focused on Achik, who had risen and picked up the familiar writing stick. He drew figures, also familiar, on the wall, then turned to Bess with an expectant air. Bess looked at the grouping of three people, one obviously female, and said, “No. I have said I will not read Sapa Inca’s mind for you. Do not ask me again.”

  It was a bold statement, but Bess had come to the conclusion that refusing Achik’s request carried with it far less danger than obeying his command, however good Achik’s intentions were. Achik might be a Seer, with whatever power and respect that commanded in his culture, but Sapa Inca was an emperor, and he had Uturunku under his command, and Bess feared Uturunku more than she did Achik.

  Achik regarded Bess with narrowed eyes. He laid down the writing stick and resumed his seat. Then he began speaking, slow, measured words as if that might make them intelligible to Bess. She was about to protest that she did not speak his language when she began to perceive images, clear and precise. Inca warriors pouring down on Lima with guns and knives. Slaughter in the streets. It was what she had seen from Sapa Inca and Uturunku, but far more detailed, and it made her feel ill. Achik pointed to the picture of Sapa Inca on the wall and nodded.

  Then the images changed. She saw peaceful fields of some kind of grain, waving in the wind, and Incas tending the fields. She saw a stone room full of European guns, then the same guns piled in a courtyard and set on fire. She saw Lima again, untroubled by war. Achik pointed to himself as he spoke.

  “You mean,” Bess said slowly, “that what you want for your people is not what Sapa Inca wants. You want peace.” She thought for a moment, then Spoke to Achik, visualizing the peaceful Lima once more.

  Achik nodded. Bess added, “You want to stop Sapa Inca.” She pictured Achik facing Sapa Inca in his throne room, one hand held out in a forbidding gesture.

  Achik nodded again. He pointed at the figures on the wall, then at Bess. “You want me to help stop him,” Bess said. Achik smiled as if he understood Bess’s words.

  Bess sat up straighter on her stool and gripped her knees with both hands. This clarified matters. If Achik could keep Sapa Inca from overrunning Lima, and if she could help him achieve that, she might have a duty to do so. His desires were certainly in line with her own. She looked over her shoulder at Taruka, hoping that the woman was discreet—but she must be, or Achik would not have spoken so freely in front of her. What he plotted was treason.

  The idea brought Bess to her senses. Achik’s plan might be noble, but it could also get him killed, and if Bess participated, it might mean her death as well. And she did not believe, from having seen the reactions of Sapa Inca’s other advisors, that Achik had enough support to enact his plan.

  “Your cause is noble,” she said, Speaking to him an image of herself within those pleasant fields, “but I cannot be involved.” She erased herself from the picture.

  Achik’s smile vanished. He spoke again, and once more she saw Lima in flames. “I know,” she said, nodding, “but I am not at liberty to align myself with you.”

  Achik stood abruptly, knocking over his stool. He said something to Taruka, who nodded and left the room. Achik took Bess’s hands in his and spoke to her. This time, he appeared to be speaking of Sapa Inca, because an image of the emperor came to Bess’s mind. Unlike the real man, the image of Sapa Inca looked cruel and hard, and blood stained his hands. Bess saw the bodies of men contorted in death, and it again sickened her. She yanked her hands from Achik’s and said, “I cannot. He may be a terrible man, and I will not help him achieve his goals, but I cannot help you either.”

  The images persisted. Bess attempted to block them the way she had learned to block out unwanted Speech, but she could not escape them. Tears coming to her eyes, she ran for the door, only to come up short as Achik said something curt and hard. She turned to face the Seer, preparing to strike at him with a blast of unformed Speech.

  In that moment, she felt as if her mind was paired with his, and all his thoughts lay spread before her. She saw images she was certain he did not intend her to see: himself, dressed in Sapa Inca’s robes, wearing the emperor’s golden jewelry and sitting on the golden throne. Himself, receiving the homage of Sapa Inca’s servants. And himself, presiding over the bloody deaths of Sapa Inca and Uturunku. They were clear enough that Bess did not doubt this was a thing he had contemplated for some time.

  “You do not care about European deaths,” she whispered. “You want to be emperor, and this is your pretext.” Her feelings of sympathy for Achik fled. Perhaps he did not want to go to war against the Spanish, but nothing she had just seen indicated that he wanted this for noble reasons. This was all in the service of his own aggrandizement.

  At that moment, her temples tingled, and Catherine Spoke, Bess, the most scandalous news—

  Not now, Catherine, Bess said, and ruthlessly blocked the connection.

  She resumed her seat. “What do you want?” she said, Speaking the image of the pleasant field with herself within it once more.

  Achik spoke at length, and she perceived a familiar sequence of images: Sapa Inca speaking with someone with Bess standing nearby, Bess speaking to Achik separately. His meaning was unambiguous.

  Bess repeated to him the images of peaceful Lima and burning guns, overlain with her perception of Achik, and pointed to him. Then she pictured herself standing near Sapa Inca as he spoke, and pointed to herself. “I will help you,” she lied, “and you will not go to war.” It was a complex concept
to convey without words, and she hoped enough of her meaning would reach him. She hoped even more that this would be enough to placate him while she came up with a better solution.

  Achik nodded. He righted his stool and sat on it, regarding Bess with a satisfied smile. Bess managed to smile in return. Now she had two men to deceive, both of whom were at odds with each other, neither of whom cared anything for Bess except as a tool. She clasped her hands in her lap to conceal their shaking. Unless she could find an alternative, she would be the Incas’ prisoner for the rest of her life—however short that life might be.

  She gazed bleakly at Achik’s blurry face. He looked so friendly, like someone’s kindly grandfather. And yet he was willing to shed blood to get what he wanted. Possibly he wanted what was best for his people; possibly he was right that killing Sapa Inca and taking his place was the only way to save them; but she had seen nothing in his mind that indicated he cared for anything but his own position. It reminded her of Speaking to Mr. Quinn, about façades and true natures, and she suddenly wanted to burst into tears and flee this room, flee the palace and take her chances in the wilderness.

  Achik said, “Taruka.” Bess looked up, but the woman was not there. Achik shook his head and said her name again. This time, it was accompanied by a flash of an image of Taruka herself. Achik pointed at Bess and said “Taruka. Chayanpunki.”

  He said this again, each time pointing at Bess. “Oh!” Bess exclaimed. “You wish me to summon Taruka.” She had not had much contact with Taruka, but an Extraordinary Speaker did not need much contact to Speak to someone new, only concentration and a sense of who the person was. She closed her eyes—again, not necessary, but she did not like having Achik’s avid dark eyes boring into her—and Spoke the word Achik had given her to Taruka. She kept her eyes closed for a few moments after Speaking, trying to regain her calm.

  She opened her eyes when she heard footsteps. Taruka spoke from the doorway, a few short words Achik responded to in kind. “Bess,” he said, pointed at Taruka. “Agradiseyki.”

  Bess bowed, wishing she dared display her true feelings. This time, when she followed Taruka back to her room, she paid attention to the turnings they took within the palace. It was something she should have done from the start, but she had been so overwhelmed she had failed to memorize more than the path to the emperor’s throne room.

  She sat on her pallet when Taruka had gone and tried to calm her disordered thoughts. Sapa Inca to deceive. Achik to deceive. Uturunku to…there was nothing she could do about Uturunku except hope he did not decide she was a threat to be eliminated without asking Sapa Inca’s permission. Clarissa, she Spoke, please tell me the Seers have had success.

  After a few minutes, Clarissa said, Forgive me, Bess, I cannot speak now. The situation with the Seers is as it was yesterday. I will communicate with you in a few hours.

  Her words shook Bess’s hard-won calm. She needed to Speak to someone. It was now evening in England, and Honoria and Eleanora were at the theater, something Bess was reluctant to interrupt. Rose was sweet, but of heightened sensibilities, and Bess would likely end up comforting her instead. Maria, she Spoke, are you free?

  Bess, I beg your pardon, but I am at supper with my family. Unless you are in need?

  Bess shook her head, though Maria could not hear her. No, it is nothing urgent. I will Speak with you in the morning.

  She was beginning to have difficulty remembering whom she had told of her situation. Honoria, Maria, Eleanora, Rose. Clarissa. Mrs. Grantham—no, she was always abed early. This was the sort of thing she was accustomed to telling John, even though he could not respond to her Speech. Daphne, too, would be an excellent confidante if only she were a Speaker. That left only one person.

  Mr. Quinn, she Spoke, I hope you are not occupied.

  There was a pause, and then Mr. Quinn replied, It is nothing I cannot return to. I can tell you are disturbed. Have the Seers located you?

  No, and Clarissa—Miss Emrey is busy and cannot tell me how they get on.

  Mr. Quinn sent out a sharp pulse that translated as a dismissive noise in Bess’s mind. I cannot believe them competent, if they have failed so thoroughly to find you.

  I am certain they are doing their best.

  Then is that what disturbs you?

  Bess laughed, and stopped herself before it could become hysterical. It is so much worse than that. I told you Sapa Inca wishes me to induce the King to ally with him? It seems the Seer, Achik, wants me to spy on Sapa Inca so he can become emperor in his stead. I am so caught in their political machinations I do not know where to turn. Please, help me find the humor in my situation.

  Mr. Quinn said, I fear even I can see nothing but horror. I apologize for failing you.

  So what am I to do? I cannot do what Sapa Inca wants, and I dare not do as Achik wishes.

  Silence. How much power do you judge Achik holds? Are Seers held in as much reverence by the Incas as they are by Europeans? Mr. Quinn finally asked.

  I have only seen the one Seer, and the emperor, at least, does not seem to respect him very well. The others…were they English, I would say they had the look of men forced to endure the rantings of a crotchety grandfather who believes himself more intelligent than he is. But the fact that they endure him rather than casting him out tells me he has some power, which means he has some support I am unaware of. And it is possible I am wrong, and Achik is a better choice for the Incas. But as I have no power at all, I believe he is still dangerous to me, well-meaning or not.

  I agree. But if Sapa Inca has the power to override him, you might be able to turn to Sapa Inca for help. The problem—

  —is that I cannot easily communicate the fact that Achik is potentially a traitor and usurper, yes, Bess said. And if Achik discovers my attempt before I can convince Sapa Inca, my life could be in jeopardy.

  Not to mention that Sapa Inca has no reason to trust your word over his Seer’s. Or that Sapa Inca may yet be the villain of this piece.

  Bess hugged her knees, stroking the soft wool with her thumbs. The feeling comforted her. Nevertheless, it seems I must cultivate Sapa Inca’s trust. I believe he is honorable, and wishes the best for his people. I must find a better way to communicate with him.

  I dislike that plan because it suggests you will be there a very long while.

  It is something to do while I wait on the Seers. Bess sighed. I wish you would tell me who you are. Then I might ask after your family, and inquire as to how you spent your day, and what you intend to do this evening, and that would be so much more cheerful than our current conversation.

  Mr. Quinn laughed again. This evening I am to dine with friends, and then attend a performance at Covent Garden.

  You do not fear me identifying you from that information?

  I do not believe it is so out of the ordinary as to mark me out from all the men in London for the Season.

  It certainly did not narrow down the possibilities; all three of Bess’s candidates for Mr. Quinn might be in London at this time. Do you enjoy the theatre, then?

  Certainly. There is nothing like a good performance to lay one’s troubles to rest for a time.

  I agree. Though I have a preference for opera. My vision is so limited, I take more enjoyment from the music than from the blurs of color that are the actors. Sometimes the intermission is more pleasurable than the performance, because I can visit with friends.

  I understand. I enjoy opera myself. In Italy, I was fortunate enough to attend many excellent performances.

  When were you in Italy?

  Years ago. The Grand Tour was a time of wonderful opportunity for me.

  Bess smiled. I suppose you will not be more specific, and provide me with more clues as to your identity?

  Mr. Quinn laughed. Almost you convince me to abandon my secrecy.

  Only almost?

  I find it pleasant to converse with someone who cannot judge me by my appearance or my history or my family name.

  Bess realize
d her despair had all but vanished. Is your family name one to be ashamed of, then?

  One’s family need not be objectionable to have a reputation, for good or ill. Your family, Miss Hanley—I know little of them, but your father is well known as a talented Mover, is he not? And were it not for your own reputation, you would be known only as Squire Hanley’s daughter, with all that entails. Wearing a mask, so to speak, is exhilarating.

  Bess smiled. Who am I to deprive you of your pleasures?

  You are very kind.

  And you are very generous. Do not believe I did not guess you abandoned whomever you were with to have this conversation—

  Bess’s temples buzzed with conflicting Speech. Mr. Quinn, I apologize, but I am being addressed and it might be Miss Emrey. Thank you again.

  Good luck, Miss Hanley.

  Bess cleared her thoughts just as Clarissa Spoke to her. Bess, I apologize. So much is happening in the War Office. Our troops are driving the French back out of Spain and fighting is fierce. I have been in communication with Field Marshal Wellesley’s forces and…

  Clarissa was silent for so long Bess feared she was once more distracted by the War Office’s demands. Finally, Clarissa said, The Seers have been pulled into service by the Allied forces. They can no longer search for you.

  Bess’s face felt numb. She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. You mean I can no longer look to them for help.

  Bess. I will do what I can. There are other Seers, not attached to the War Office—Sophia Rutledge sees your predicament as a challenge, and you must have heard how dogged she is in solving a mystery. You have not been abandoned.

 

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