The Diminished

by Kaitlyn Sage Patterson

  Mal reached out and touched my cheek. “Where did you go, Vi? Are you all right?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t mean to hurt you with the asking. It’s just that...”

  “I know it’s important. He’s here,” Mal said reassuringly. “Join me for a stroll?”

  “Better not,” Myrna called through the door. “Hepsy’s sure to be back any minute.”

  I pursed my lips. “She’s right.”

  “There are things you need to know. Quill’s here, and Bo made it back, too, but if we can’t wrangle a meeting with Phineas in time—”

  The outside door squealed, and we froze. I didn’t know what Hepsy would do if she found a man in my rooms, but I was certain sure it wouldn’t end well for me. I put a finger to my lips, eyes wide and heart pounding, and grabbed Mal by the arm. I pulled him to the bedroom, flung open the door and, after Myrna tumbled out, shoved him inside. When Hepsy bustled into the great room a moment later, we were both red-faced and standing by the hearth.

  She gave us an odd look, but said, “They’re ready for you in the manor house, Obedience.” Eyeing her sister, she said, “Someone left a pair of rather large boots in the mudroom. They look like Haskell’s spares. See that he gets them back, Myrna.”

  I gritted my teeth. Hepsy’s habit of calling me by my given name infuriated me. As I followed her out, my stomach turned somersaults. I knew my part—curtsy and smile. Don’t speak unless spoken to. If I’d been the praying type, I’d be on my knees begging Dzallie that Bo would find himself alone in a room with Phineas before I’d been presented to Aphra. Tension was thicker than the humid air at Plumleen, and I suspected that nothing this night would go as easily as I hoped.

  * * *

  Hepsy led me to one of the tiny sitting rooms off the great room. There were four of these little rooms, all kitted out with potted plants to perfume the air, small tables to hold drinks and love seats for canoodling. One door led into the great room, the other down a short staircase and into the garden. Hepsy drew a long key from her skirt pocket and locked the garden door.

  “You make a peep before I come to collect you, and I’ll make sure you don’t sit down for a week,” she hissed.

  I stepped toward the love seat, my face a placid mask. Every word out of her mouth made me want to do just the opposite of what she said.

  “You will answer me when I address you, girl. Do you understand me?”

  I gave her an exaggerated nod, but before I was out of her reach, she pinched my arm so hard I yelped.

  “You said to keep my trap shut!” I cried.

  “Don’t you get saucy with me. And don’t sit down. I don’t want you wrinkling that dress more than you already have.” She clucked as she turned to enter the great room. “Gray. What were you thinking?”

  As soon as I heard the key turn in the lock, I plopped down on the sofa.

  * * *

  I listened to musicians tuning their instruments, servants chattering and glasses clinking as the final preparations were made on the other side of the door that led into the great room. I shifted my belt, irritatingly aware of the knives’ hard pressure on my waist. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Curlin and the way she’d acted in the jungle temple since I’d left. It’d been as though she didn’t know me, hadn’t known me since we were grubby brats. I couldn’t parse it, and it looked as though I never would.

  Not if Bo got his way. I wanted the freedom Bo had promised me, but I wanted to use it to make a difference to the people I’d met—people like Myrna and Aphra, who’d accepted me without prejudice or fear. I didn’t know how I could do that if I left with Bo and went back to Penby. There was also a part of me that was tempted to abandon Ilor and all its problems so that I could get to know Bo. I wanted to learn everything about him, and more than that, I wanted desperately to explore what it was to be a twin.

  I went round and round with myself as the music started and the coarse accents of the servants were replaced by the genteel tones of the guests.

  A soft knock at the garden door brought me to my feet. I shook out my skirts quickly, but the door stayed shut.

  “Vi,” a soft voice called through the door, and I was flooded with anxiety and anticipation not entirely my own. “Vi, can you hear me?”

  I didn’t know yet if I’d forgiven him for lying to me. Didn’t know if I trusted him. All I knew was that he was my twin, and he was going to help me out of this mess, like it or no. I knelt and put my ear to the dark wood. “Bo? Is this a good idea? There are people everywhere. Someone will be coming for me any minute.”

  “Can you let me in?”

  “The door’s locked.”

  “Did Mal find you earlier?”

  “Yes. Manage to sort things out with Phineas yet?” I whispered.

  “No. He’s rebuffed every attempt Quill has made to schedule a meeting. We’re going to have to wait until the party itself.”

  “Rayleane’s pounding hammer,” I cursed under my breath. “Look, if you can’t manage to get me out of this mess, it’ll be all right. I chose this life, after all.”

  He hushed me. “Vi, the Shriven are looking for you. For my sister. If they haven’t found you here yet, they will soon, and I’m not going to let that happen to you. Call me selfish, but I can’t lose you. I want to know you. I want to have a chance to be your twin, and I won’t let the Shriven snatch you away from me.”

  My throat seized, and my stomach dropped to my ankles. “What?” I croaked, mind racing. Dzallie bless me, I thought. He’d said before that people were looking for me, but he hadn’t said it was the Shriven. I knew what they were capable of, what they did to people in the name of the temple. If they knew that I was Bo’s sister, there was nothing in the world that would keep them from finding me. And I could only imagine what they’d do once they got their hands on me. If I’d known it was the Shriven, I would’ve run. I wouldn’t be here.

  Curlin’s face came to me like a punch in the gut. I was done for. She’d only need to see a portrait of Bo to know the truth.

  “Vi, don’t panic.” He must’ve felt it coming off me in waves. “We’re going to get out of this. Together. And then, I promise, I’ll explain everything.”

  The other door swung open, and I leapt to my feet.

  “Obedience, get yourself together this instant. They’re ready for you.”

  I brushed my skirts into place. “Bows tied? Gift neatly packaged?”

  Hepsy sighed, heavy with aggravation, and pulled a curl loose from the nape of my neck. “There. Pretty as a picture. Just try to not talk. It’ll ruin the effect. We’ll have to do something about that accent of yours sooner or later.”

  I rolled my eyes, doing everything in my power to cover the terror I felt at learning the Shriven were looking for me. Hepsy led me out into the great room, where we cut left behind a line of potted plants. Tiny solar lights twinkled overhead, reflecting the faint stars that shone through the many skylights in the ceiling. Lilting reels and jigs drifted across the crowd and smoothed the edges of the fractured conversations that filled the room. Through the leaves of the ferns, I ogled the bright silks spinning around the Laroches’ guests as they danced. Other folks sat, displayed like prized orchids, on the couches that lined the walls.

  Hepsy yanked me to the side of the small platform where the musicians were playing and hid me behind a carved screen. “Wait here until Mister Laroche calls for you. It shouldn’t be long.”

  After she left, I scanned the room for Quill, but he was nowhere to be seen. Servants dressed in somber black livery moved through the crowd, carrying tall glasses of jewel-colored drinks on trays held high over their heads.

  Phineas and Aphra skimmed across the dance floor. Her copper-gold hair whipped out behind her like a flag. Aphra’s dress was gold, slashed with violet, and he wore a shirt and waistcoat to match, with a cream-colo
red jacket and trousers. They laughed so convincingly as they circled around the room in one another’s arms that, if I hadn’t seen their fight over Myrna’s bloody back, I’d have almost believed they really loved each other.

  When the music stopped, the musicians set down their instruments and turned to Phineas expectantly. Phineas whispered in Aphra’s ear, and she shook her head, frowning. He kept his smile firmly in place, but even from my hiding place behind the screen, I could see the good humor drain from his eyes. He snatched two glasses from a passing servant’s tray, handed one to his wife and raised the other.

  “As you all know, tomorrow is the twenty-fifth anniversary of the birth of my beloved wife, whose grace, wit and beauty do great honor to my ancestral hall, where we stand tonight.” He raised his glass to Aphra, who bowed her head to him. “And,” he cried, “in two days, we celebrate the anniversary of our marriage!”

  Cheers rang through the great room.

  He went on. “But tonight, on the eve of the anniversary of her birth, we honor Aphra with music, gifts and dancing.”

  I tensed. My moment would likely be coming soon.

  “Join me in raising a glass to my dear Aphra, who cools my days and lights my nights. To Aphra!”

  Aphra inclined her head, the picture of grace. She raised her glass to her husband, the crowd and then the musicians, who picked up their instruments and began to play once more.

  Phineas hushed them with a wave of his hand, and the strings screeched into silence. “I know I may be getting ahead of myself, and my lovely wife will likely scold me, but I cannot keep this surprise to myself for another moment. Obedience, will you come out, please?”

  Cold sweat ran in rivulets down my back. Soon, my dark gray silk would be patched with black where the sweat soaked through my shift. I did everything in my power to keep myself from touching the handles of the knives at my belt as I stepped out from behind the screen.

  The crowd’s murmuring quieted as Phineas began to speak again.

  “Obedience is one of the diminished. I was able to offer her a contract, thanks to the good fellows at the Whippleston Exchange Firm in Williford. I believe they’re here tonight. Quill? Mal? Would you raise your hands?”

  I bit my lip and scanned the crowd, looking for the twins. Fear ringed the eyes staring back at me. I saw muscles tense and hands reach for knives left at home for such a formal occasion. I caught a glimpse of Curlin, her arms crossed over her robes, and I wanted to smack the smirk off her face. I wanted to scream the truth into the crowd—tell them it wasn’t me they should fear, but the anchorites, the Shriven, the Suzerain. Even as I tried to calm myself down, to convince myself that it was all out of my hands, my heart picked up its pace and fluttered madly in my chest.

  Phineas went on. “My dear wife has long been without a well-trained lady’s maid of her own. Therefore, when the opportunity came along to offer a contract to one of the diminished—a young woman as unique, if not as beautiful, as Aphra herself—I couldn’t bear to say no. I’ve spent the past weeks training Obedience to be the perfect servant for my darling and, hopefully, to live up to her name. Obedience, if you will make the proper courtesies to your new mistress?”

  Panic clenched my throat, and even as my own good sense slipped away, waves of calm and comfort washed over me. Bo was in the room. My twin was nearby.

  I couldn’t afford to dwell on all the horrible possibilities that swirled around in my head. Phineas would refuse to sell my contract to Bo, or he wouldn’t. I would be dosed again, or I wouldn’t. The Shriven would find me, or they wouldn’t.

  But I knew better. The Shriven would always find me. Perhaps they already had. My eyes settled on Mal and Quill at last, Bo standing right next to them with Swinton at his side. Bo nodded at me and raised his hand to his waist, waving his fingers. That boy needed a lesson in subtlety, and quick.

  I passed through the crowd and sank into a deep curtsy in front of Aphra. Aphra offered me her hand and pulled me back to my feet before raising her glass to the crowd, her smile tight and false.

  “I’ve no idea what I’ve done to deserve such a husband,” she said. “Now, please. Enjoy the party. Drink! Eat! Make merry!”

  With a wave of Aphra’s freckled right hand, the musicians leapt into song. The cacophony of the guests’ conversations rose around me once more. Folks started to dance, and servants snaked through the crowd. Light-headed, I watched the dancers’ colorful silks swirl under the warm glow of the solar lamps for a moment. I blinked and looked eagerly for Bo’s dark curls in the sea of people.

  A cold hand closed around my arm.

  “Look at you. You’ve sweat straight through your clothes,” Hepsy scolded. “Come on, then. We’re to move your things up to your new quarters. Master Laroche wants you all settled by the time Madame Laroche makes her way upstairs tonight.”

  “But—” I tried to protest, but she was already dragging me by the arm toward the door.

  “Good thing, too,” she snickered. “You look a right mess.”

  I cast one last look into the great room as she yanked me through the door. I found Bo searching the crowd for me. Our eyes met, and he put his hand to his heart, mouthing the words, “Trust me,” before the door shut between us.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  BO

  Threads of Vi’s outrage wound into me, twining around my own emotions, distracting me. Finding her, calming her became preeminently important. The whirling dancers and laughing guests were no more than obstacles between my seething twin and me. I worked my way to the door she’d been dragged through, excusing myself mechanically as I shouldered through the crowd. When I finally tried the handle, I found it locked.

  I automatically tucked my gold cuff into my too-short sleeve, scanning the room. Swinton had cobbled together our formal wear from a trunk of clothes found in the attic of his mother’s inn. The odds and ends we wore had been forgotten over the years, and while each piece was horribly out of fashion or obscenely garish on its own, the end result was dazzling.

  I eyed the cluster of richly dressed anchorites in the corner. One anchorite bent her head in conversation with another, more ancient anchorite, whose brows furrowed as she scanned the room with rheumy eyes. The youngest of the anchorites, in wide yellow skirts, was attended by an old man wearing a dour expression.

  The sight of them brought to mind the list of dead children’s names Swinton had found in Ephemella’s study, and my skin prickled to gooseflesh. These people, directly or not, were complicit in the abuse of the citizens of the empire I was sworn to protect. I couldn’t tell if Vi’s rage was feeding mine, but the anger welling up inside me made my already tenuous hold on my temper slip.

  Jaw clenched, I started toward them. Swinton sidled up next to me, put his hand on my arm and slipped a cold glass of something yellow and fizzing into my hand.

  “Pull yourself together, bully,” he murmured. “You need to focus on one thing at a time, and barreling through the room like a scent-drunk hound won’t do anything to convince Phineas to give up his prize.”

  I took a sip and let the sweet, fruity liquor fizz down my throat. “Nothing has gone according to our plan. I need her to know that I’ll get her out of here. I’ll get her free.”

  “Bo. Look at me.” Swinton adjusted my collar and caressed my cheek. “You spoke to her earlier. If ever a young woman could take care of herself, it’s Vi. Do your part and stop worrying about her.”

  I nodded. “Fine. What’s our next move, then?”

  “You need to ingratiate yourself with our host. Get him to like you. A house like this says the man’s got money, but it’s new. Maybe his daddy’s. Old money families don’t show it off so much. You can impress him with your fancy family and your royal manners.” Swinton raised an eyebrow at me.

  I stood a little straighter, and Swinton squeezed my hand.

  “Y
ou, of all people, were born to make sniveling, grasping ne’er-do-wells like Phineas Laroche grovel at your feet,” he said. “You’ll impress him and make him want to impress you, in turn.”

  I bit the inside of my lip, blushing. “I think you may be misunderstanding the role of the King, my dear. That said, political maneuvering is not outside the realm of my experience. Is there anything you know that might be of use? Any sore spots I can lean on?”

  “The majority of the money is hers now, but apparently this is his family’s estate, built by his parents,” Swinton explained. “If I’m right, they took advantage of the first wave of colonization and trade, leaving them quite wealthy. His idiotic mismanagement of the place had him nearly bankrupt by the time he married Madame Laroche. Her family is old Alskad Empire nobility. They moved here when she was born.” He raised an eyebrow. “For obvious reasons.”

  I drew myself up to my full height and gave him my most imperious look. “New money? Power-hungry? Next time, let’s try and find a challenge. This is a game I was born to play.”

  Swinton covered his mouth, eyes wrinkling with laughter. He looked like he was about to have a fountain of the fizzy gold cocktail he’d been drinking come streaming out his nose.

  I grinned at him. “Let’s track down Mal and Quill and see if they’ll make our introductions.”

  Some time later, we approached the Laroches where they sat receiving guests in an alcove. Mal and Quill stood on either side of Swinton and me as we waited in the receiving line. Despite having started on a sour note with the twins, I’d found that I liked the Whipplestons. They both seemed to care deeply about Vi and her happiness.

  On our way to Plumleen Hall, they’d regaled me with tales about the journey across the Tethys with Vi. In Quill’s stories, she came across as a trickster, a great one for jokes and pranks. Mal told me about her sharp wit and the way she seemed to always put the welfare of others before her own. He went on and on about her compassion and how hard her childhood had been, while Quill talked about Vi like she was a complex, dynamic woman—someone he admired. I didn’t presume to know Vi really at all yet, but the young woman I had met seemed like she was all those things and more.