Straightening in my seat, the motion enough to draw everyone’s attention, I said flatly, “I need to see the debris.”
There was an awkward pause, and then Baill said tactfully, “Colby, the village where the wreckage was found, is outside of the city.”
I frowned, confused, and then suddenly remembered.
I was trapped inside the city by the throne. I couldn’t go see the wreckage.
I swore vehemently, startling both Captain Catrell and Baill. Catrell seemed shocked; Baill simply seemed intrigued.
“Someone has to go look at the wreckage,” I said. “I need to know what ship the debris came from, how long it has been since it foundered, if possible, and how it was lost in the first place.”
A few of those present seemed surprised at the force behind my voice. But then I realized: To them it was simply an unfortunate accident, a ship lost at sea, most likely by storm or from running onto a hidden shoal or perhaps piracy. They didn’t have the vision haunting them. They couldn’t see the bodies floating in the harbor, hadn’t choked on the smoke of the fires.
Reacting to the intensity of my voice, Captain Catrell stood. “I’ll send a contingent of the city guard immediately. We can leave tomorrow morning and be in Colby by late afternoon, with enough light left to investigate the wreckage so that we can return the following day.”
Baill shifted forward. “I’ll send a few palace guards along as well.”
I shook my head, and Baill frowned, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. “No, Captain Baill. I want the palace guards to devote their energy to the food missing from the warehouse.”
“Very well,” Baill said.
It was clear he was unhappy I’d countermanded his suggestion.
But that still didn’t solve the real problem. Captain Catrell didn’t know about the vision. He and his men wouldn’t look at the wreckage with alternative possibilities in mind. He’d probably already assumed it was from a storm, and that the debris had been lying on the beach for weeks. I needed someone who could factor in the warning given by the vision.
I glanced toward Erick, but hesitated.
Since he’d first returned from tracking down and killing Corum, he’d been a constant presence, my personal bodyguard, always near at hand, even if he wasn’t always in the same room. I’d grown accustomed to having him there, for advice and for support.
He caught my gaze, gave me a slightly questioning look, as if to ask why I was waiting. He’d already assumed he would go.
But the thought of sending him filled me with sick dread. He was my only true ally in the palace. Marielle was beholden to Avrell; all the Servants were. And the guardsmen were under the control of Baill, even Captain Catrell. That left only Erick and the Seekers, and I’d discovered there weren’t as many Seekers as I’d first thought. Westen had revealed that there were only about thirty Seekers in the palace—one Seeker for every ten guardsmen under Baill’s and Catrell’s control. So even though the Seekers swore their loyalty to the Mistress, and even though the Seekers were more deadly and skilled than the guardsmen, they were seriously outnumbered.
I didn’t want to send Erick or Westen, not when there were so few I trusted.
Before either Erick or I could speak, there was a silken rustle of clothes and Eryn said, “Send me.” She sat on the edge of her seat, her eyes wide in mute appeal.
I frowned, uncertain. Eryn was still an unknown, even after the hours we’d spent in training in the garden with the other Servants. Yet she’d done nothing but help me since I released her from the throne.
“Why?” I asked.
Eryn shifted slightly, and suddenly she was the woman who’d once sat on the throne, regal and composed. “Because until I was eight, I was raised on the rocky coastline, in a village much like Colby. I’ve seen debris from all kinds of shipwrecks. I know what to look for.” She hesitated, then added in a much more emotional voice, “And also because I haven’t been outside of the city for over twenty years.”
My gaze narrowed. I’d heard what she’d not said, what she had really meant. She’d not been outside of the city because of the throne. This would be a good way to test whether she was truly free of its power. She was willing to risk death to make certain she was free, and this gave her an excuse to try.
And she did know what to look for. Like Erick, she knew of the vision, of what it foretold.
“Very well,” I said, “but I’d like Borund to go, too.” I turned toward him and saw his eyes widen slightly in surprise. “You know most of the ships we sent for supplies,” I explained. “You’ll have better luck identifying the ship.”
Comprehension dawned, and he relaxed. “I believe William can manage for a few days while I’m away.”
I suppressed a grimace at the mention of William’s name, then stood. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to your preparations.”
Everyone stood, made short bows, and departed, Captain Catrell and Baill moving swiftly since they had orders to give, the rest at a more leisurely pace.
Once the others had left, Erick said quietly, “You could have sent me as well.”
“I know,” I said. I hesitated, almost added an explanation, but in the end said nothing. I didn’t even turn to look at him, afraid he’d see the relief in my eyes that he was staying.
* * *
The party left an hour after dawn the next day. Along with Erick and my own escort, I accompanied Eryn, Borund, Captain Catrell, and a group of five other guardsmen to the edge of the city, all of us on horseback. One of the guardsmen carried the village’s messenger boy behind him, the youth clutching tightly to his waist. Since it was the first time I’d been outside of the paddock on a horse, we took it slow, winding down from the palace and out the outer walls, then cutting east, passing through streets I wasn’t familiar with. Following the River, we passed near the stockyards, the reek of slaughter washing over us on a faint breeze, even though fresh meat was scarce. The horses shied away from the smell, but we turned south before it became pervasive, moving parallel to the outer walls, the land dropping away from the palace and the hill that it sat upon. The buildings and streets thinned, until there was nothing but the southern road, rocky land, a few small bent trees, and scrub brush.
I glanced up at Eryn as the group paused on the rough road leading south from the city, the protective walls of the city above us, far up the steep slope of the southern part of the hill. Most of Amenkor lay north of the palace—on the edge of the harbor and along the northern jut of land that enclosed it—and east along the River. The openness here felt strange. I was used to buildings on all sides, or the waters of the River and harbor. I’d never ventured outside the Dredge or the lower city, wharf, and palace before becoming the Mistress. Here, where I could see the land to the east rising up to distant forested mountains and south along the dark rock of the jagged coastline, I felt exposed and vulnerable. But I quashed the sensation and turned to Eryn.
“Do you feel anything?” I asked, pitching my voice low so that only Eryn, Erick, and Borund could hear, brushing my hand along my mount’s neck to keep it calm. I still hadn’t grown comfortable astride the animal.
“No,” Eryn said. “You?”
I shivered. “Yes.” Deep in my gut, a gnawing sensation clawed at my stomach, like hunger but far worse. And it was steadily increasing the longer I stayed. I knew I was on the edge of the throne’s reach. If I went much farther . . .
A look of pure wonder passed across Eryn’s face. “Then it’s true,” she murmured, not hiding her disbelief. “I’m free of the throne.”
She laughed, her joyful grin infectious. For a moment, I saw the young woman she had once been, carefree and mischievous.
Then she caught my eyes, saw my pained answering grin, and the Mistress in her took over, pushed her elation down, replacing it with a look of concern and pity. But not completely; there was still a
smile on her lips. “Varis—” she began.
I halted her with a sharp shake of my head. With more force than I intended, I said, “It doesn’t matter. I’ve lived my entire life inside the city. I don’t need to go beyond its walls.”
Eryn’s face clouded with doubt, but she nodded. Perhaps she heard the lie. Now that I’d seen what lay outside the city, I wanted to see more. But that couldn’t be helped.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Eryn said.
Then she turned and kneed her horse forward, the guardsmen starting out ahead of her at her signal. She rode gracefully, back straight, Borund falling in a few paces behind.
As she passed completely outside the throne’s influence, the blissful smile relit her face.
I sighed, grimacing in pain as I placed a hand over my stomach. It felt as if someone had stabbed me and was now working the blade back and forth, slicing up my guts. “I need to get back to the city,” I said, feeling suddenly flushed. And the horse was picking up on my discomfort.
Erick motioned sharply to my escort and we headed back, moving the horses as fast as the pain in my stomach would allow.
A hundred paces from the southern wall, the last of the sickening sensation faded.
I was home, I thought bitterly.
* * *
I spent the morning working with Nathem and Avrell on the rebuilding of the warehouse district, answering questions about what I wanted rebuilt where, settling disputes between workers and merchants. At my insistence, we visited one of the warehouses and kitchens so I could see how the merchants were organizing the work details and how they were handling the distribution of the food, then we headed toward the communal ovens, where the women and children were busy baking breads. But the smells of yeast and dough and flour reminded me too forcefully of the white-dusty man who’d helped me to survive on the Dredge before I met Erick—the baker who’d been killed because of me—and so I had Avrell take me back to the palace.
By then, Avrell had been put on edge. I’d never spent so much time with him before, had never asked him so many unimportant questions about how things were run, and my apprehension over the wreckage at Colby had transferred to him. I could see him casting suspicious looks at me, and so at midafternoon I released him. I didn’t want him to think about Colby and what might be found there. His interest had already been piqued too much.
And perhaps there was nothing to find at Colby. Perhaps the debris was simply from the ship running aground on some hidden rocks, or breaking apart after being caught in a storm.
Or so I told myself as I paced my room.
In an effort to distract myself, I summoned Marielle and tried to pay attention to my lessons.
“Try to sound it out,” Marielle said. We’d been working for two hours and her voice was frayed, her hair wild from running her hands through it in frustration. “You know all the letters.”
“I know,” I spat, a twinge of guilt stabbing through me even as I spoke.
Marielle tensed and in a hard voice said, “Just try.”
I drew in a deep breath, closed my eyes, tried to gather my scattered wits, then opened my eyes and stared at the book in my lap. I focused on the word beneath my fingers. A long word, but one I knew, because I’d read through this page days ago.
But no matter how hard I tried, the letters wouldn’t hold steady. My attention drifted. First to the uneasy fact that Marielle was one of the stronger Servants, that she could use the river if she wanted, that in fact I was training her to take my place. When I’d entered the palace to kill the Mistress, I’d run into one of the true Servants. But the only reason I’d known was that I’d touched her, had felt a thin slice of pain running up my arm, like the cut of a dagger. I’d always thought I’d know someone who could use the river just by looking at them. But no. I hadn’t recognized that Eryn could use the river when I’d first met her in the throne room, not even after touching her. She’d actually used the river to block my attack before I’d figured out that she could control it. Was that because of the throne?
Marielle had never used the river in my presence except in the gardens while training. None of the Servants had. Was that because of Avrell? Had he ordered it?
I shoved the useless supposition aside, shook myself, and returned to the book. But I glanced toward the balcony to judge the time by the light.
It seemed the sun had barely moved since the last time I looked.
“Enough,” I said, closing the book with a frustrated snap as I stood. “I can’t do this now. We’ll have to try again tomorrow.”
A look of extreme relief passed over Marielle’s face before she could suppress it. She stood, hands held carefully before her. “Is there anything else you wish to work on?” she asked.
I tried not to let the dread in her voice irritate me. “No. Just go.” I waved her out, pacing to the balcony as she made her escape. Outside, she had a terse conversation with Erick, their voices too low for me to hear, and then Erick stepped into the room.
I glared up at the clouds scudding across the sky, then down at the city. From here, I could see the construction on the warehouses, the outlines of the walls now visible. The small figures of the men moved back and forth, and occasionally the breeze would bring the sounds of hammering and the bellows of the work leaders.
The activity somehow soothed me and the tension in my shoulders began to release.
“You’re restless,” Erick said.
I grunted. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine.”
I heard movement and with a pang of regret thought he would actually leave, but he’d only shifted closer. “You’ve never been impatient before,” he said, then added with a touch of humor, “except possibly when working with Marielle. On the Dredge, you had to wait often—for the mark to arrive, for the right moment to steal the apple. Why is waiting for Eryn to return and report any different?”
I shrugged. “Because then I knew what I was waiting for? I don’t know. But it is different.”
“You’ve changed in the last two months, since you became the Mistress,” Erick said after a moment.
I didn’t answer. Had it only been two months? It seemed like much longer than that.
Erick sighed. “So who do you want to harass now? Nathem? Baill? Westen? What about a little sparring lesson with me? I’m certain there’s something I forgot to teach you on the Dredge that Westen hasn’t already covered. He doesn’t know everything you know.”
I laughed and turned from the window, the offer to spar tempting. We hadn’t fought each other since the Dredge, more than two years ago, and the thought that I might have learned something new on my own or from Westen, might have improved enough to actually beat him in a fair match, was almost too difficult to resist. But it was late, and if watching those working in the warehouse district could calm me, then maybe I could do something similar to calm my nerves even further. “No, I think I’ll go to the throne room instead.”
Erick’s face grew somber, his stance tightening with disapproval. “Very well.”
I shook my head, irritated again. “I just want to check on the city. Besides, I’ve been working with Eryn on controlling myself, and on protecting myself from the throne. I’ll be fine.” I knew from testing the throne on my own that I didn’t need the throne to check on the city, that touching it wasn’t required—I could sense the city even now—but touching it made sensing the emotions of the city as a whole easier. And right now all I wanted to do was relax.
Erick didn’t look convinced.
In the throne room, at the sight of the amorphous throne shifting at the far end of the hall, my confidence faltered. But I straightened resolutely and walked down the central walkway, Erick at my back. He’d insisted on coming and, since the last time I’d used the throne I’d ended up unconscious on the dais steps in my own vomit, I couldn’t argue with him.
At the
base of the dais, I paused. Inside, I could feel the voices of the throne waiting, strangely quiet. I thought about Cerrin, who’d somehow escaped the Fire, and with careful deliberation I slid beneath the river and began to weave the protective net Eryn had drilled into me, trying a few of the alterations she’d proposed to help keep Cerrin and the rest of the Seven under control. Slipping deeper, I threw the net around the blazing sphere of White Fire that contained the voices at my core. The mostly quiet voices grew suddenly grim and disgusted and drew back from the wall of flame.
The net secured, I did another circuit around the sphere, searching for signs of the flaw that I knew must exist, but again I found nothing.
I turned to Erick. “I’m ready.” I was surprised my voice was so steady.
He nodded, his stance alert.
Drawing a short breath, I moved up the steps and sat on the twisting stone.
Involuntarily, I winced, expecting the voices to come crashing down around me, smothering me as they had done before, now that they were close to their source of power. But while the same weighted blanket settled over, making the room feel more real, more dense, the voices barely stirred, only the intensity of their movements behind the Fire increasing.
I let my breath out slowly, let the pulse of the throne course through me. Taking another moment to check the security of the protective net, I smiled at Erick in reassurance, then sank myself in the sensations of the city.
For a long moment, I simply hovered, the city spread out before me, as if I stood on the rooftop of the palace’s tower staring down over its sprawling streets and tightly packed buildings. The roiling flow of the people’s emotions washed over me in rhythmic swells, like waves. The scent of the waves was cool and smooth with tentative contentment. Winter had set in, the ocean was turbulent outside the bay, but here, in the harbor, where the River met the sea, we’d survived. Where before there had been a riot of apprehension, concern over whether there was enough food, uncertainty about the sudden change of power in the palace, and fear about the repercussions of the madness everyone suspected in the old Mistress, now there was hope that everything would turn out all right. There was food. They’d seen it in the warehouses, seen it being off-loaded from the ships, knew that if they were willing to work for it, the food could be theirs. Where before I’d sensed anxiety and despair, now I found industrious activity.
The Throne of Amenkor Page 48