"I'll see it done," Beau took a step back as Elenna approached.
She outstretched her arms to me. "Are you prepared?"
I wanted to scream 'no'. This was a foolhardy plan, and I was certain to be caught, but I had come too far to back out now.
"Yes," I croaked and could not force more words to escape.
Behind Elenna, Beau slipped out of the room amid the chaos. I did not want to involve him, but there was still the likely chance that Jon Sixton would recognize me. At least my presence could be a distraction rather than a hindrance.
"Follow me, then." She motioned, and I did. We returned to the hall just outside the kitchen. The duke's guests' voices rang out in the adjoining room, and mixed in with the fluting sounds of Neaux speech, I heard the familiar inflections of home and my maiden tongue. There were Danhadines in the audience; of that, I had no doubt. The last traces of confidence I felt in the dressing room had evaporated. I cannot do this! I am no performer. I hate crowds. This is not possible. Jon may have let me go free, but other countrymen of mine may not be as kind.
I turned as if to flee, and Elenna caught me by the shoulders and stopped me from doing so.
"You must perform," she commanded.
I shook my head. I cannot, I thought. This is folly. Why didn't Johai stop me and save me from my own foolhardiness. I am going to throw my freedom in Jon Sixton's face. He will not let me go a second time, and I will be taken back to Keisan and Adair. Johai will never know what happened to me. I was panting, and I clutched the front of my bodice in a failed attempt to still my racing heart.
"Illusino, look at me."
Her words compelled me to obey. I looked up and met her dark eyes. I swallowed a lump in my throat.
"You shall perform. Fear is just an emotion. This is what you were born to do."
I laughed and choked on a sob. "I was meant to be a soothsayer with a band of players?"
She smiled and pushed a stray hair away from my face. "You know what I mean, Maea."
I could not say what it was about her melodious voice, but it gave me the confidence to take a step out onto the stage. I entered from a side door onto the wooden platform. Large crimson curtains framed the stage, and a single light shone on the center. I hesitated in the shadows, peering out into the crowd. The murmurs were a steady hum, and I could see shifting bodies just outside the blinding light.
I closed my eyes and bolstered my courage. I stepped into the light, my eyes blinded by the candles that reflected back up at me. I resisted the urge to shade my face.
A hush grew over the crowd, and I felt every eye resting upon me. I tried to discern Jon Sixton among them, but I could not. I moved across the stage and stood at the center as Elenna had coached me. I looked out into the darkness. Except for the muted whispers, it was as if I were alone.
I motioned with my arm.
"Long have the mystics parted the curtains of time." My voice caught, and somewhere in the background, a man coughed. I inhaled and continued. "I, blessed with the sight to look backwards and forwards, call forth one among you who would have your future foretold."
My heart hammered in my chest. What if no one volunteers and I am left standing here like a fool? What if I'm arrested on the spot?
A few men jested with one another.
"Fredrico, you should!" A young man with dark curls pushed his friend with a pointed finger. His friend whom he had pushed was a lean man with dancing eyes and a square jaw.
"Yes, show the beautiful sorceress your heart!" a second companion taunted.
I stepped to the edge of the light and held my hand out to him. He flashed me a white smile before shoving his way through the crowd while his friends hollered after him.
He stumbled forward up a makeshift stair. When he gained the stage, he took my hand and kissed it. His actions were met with a roar of approval by the crowd. I, however, felt sick to my stomach. He reminded me of Adair in a way. And that was the last thing I needed reminding of, in that moment. I removed my hand and folded my arms in my sleeves.
"What would you have me divine, my lord?"
He grinned and looked back to his friends, who were catcalling and shouting encouragement.
"When I will find love." He winked, and I fought the urge to blush and look away. I was to be an omnipotent soothsayer, not a shy maiden.
"May I?" I held out my hand to take his, palm up.
His smile did not falter as he presented it to me. I took it, cupping it in my own, though connecting to him in the dream space was not possible in this manner. I knew from his flirtatious manner what sort of man he was, and it was easy to see he was confident with women, perhaps too much so.
"I see here you are very popular among maidens."
His friends called out to him with encouragement.
"You see that here in my hand?" He teased. "Or is it my amiable manner that gives it away?"
"Don't let the sorceress fall for you or she'll take your heart!" one of his friends shouted.
I ignored their jibing and continued. I took a stab in the dark, using a technique Elenna had taught me. "There is one you have set your heart upon, though she does not know it yet. You fear she will not see your affections as truth, and so you disguise it with your flirtations."
His smile dropped, and he looked down at his hand as if it were written there.
"How could you know that?" he whispered.
I shook my head. "You should go to her and confess before it is too late."
A hush fell over the crowd once more. Even his friends had stopped their playful shouting.
The man took his hand from mine and turned it over a few times before turning to the crowd and declaring, "She's right. I must go."
I exhaled as he ran off the stage. It had been a lucky guess. It was all a performance; none of my actual skill as a diviner was required. That had been Elenna's plan from the start, having the genuine article play a charlatan. It was ironic to say the least, but I took comfort in the fact that I did not need to ply my gift. I still feared and resented it.
The people shouted and demanded more, and I acquiesced, reading several more 'fortunes'. Each time I used none of my craft and used vague premonitions that fit what they wanted to hear. I hated lying to these people, giving false hope, but it was necessary. I needed to bide my time while Beau searched the villa. After a final young woman, who was looking for her brother to come home from battle, I had my fill. I could not continue any longer.
I turned to face the crowd once more as she was escorted off the stage in tears. "Lords and ladies, the veil has closed, and with it, I must end our time together and bid you all a fair night."
I bowed, extending my arm, as I recalled Adair doing so often, and glided off the stage. In the wings, I felt as if I would tumble off of my feet. Elenna caught me, however, and I managed to remain standing.
"You have a knack for dramatics," she said.
I shook my head. "It was luck."
"You read them all right. You have a knack for seeing inside people's hearts."
I lowered my gaze. She could not know what memories those words stirred. Adair had once complimented me that way. Maybe it had been no more than shameless flattery. However, now that I did not have all their eyes on me, the thrill was leaving me, and I shook and felt too weak to stand.
"Perhaps," I said.
There was no further time for idle talk. The play proper had begun, and the players filed onto the stage, and I was expected to wait in the antechamber. I headed in that direction before diverting and going down a long hallway. I was fortunate that servants were not about. Perhaps they were helping attend to the duke's guests; regardless it was a stroke of good fortune. Though I was weary, I pushed myself to hurry. I started by trying different doors. The ones that were unlocked were linen cabinets or unimportant-looking guest rooms stripped bare of linens until guests were to arrive.
I kept an ear cocked for sounds and tried to keep my movements precise. I had only until t
he play ended before I would be expected back. I would need to return to the antechamber lest I be caught spying. I was trying a locked door when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stiffened and turned slowly as I held my breath. Beau nodded his head towards the hallway behind him, and I saw a body lying on the ground.
I exhaled deeply and then scolded him. "Do not do that. I almost jumped out of my skin," I whispered.
"I found his study," he said.
My heart rate jumped. I had not planned on his assistance, but I had to admit it made the task much simpler. "Show me."
We headed down the opposite end of the hall and again we were lucky to come across none of the servants. After seeing that prone body, I wondered if Beau had anything to do with it. Eventually we arrived at the double doors at the end of the long hall. We were on the opposite side of the plaza, and I could no longer hear the sounds of Jon's fete. I took the doorknob with shaking hands. It turned without resistance.
"It's unlocked," I commented to Beau. "Perhaps he trusts his servants?"
Beau answered me by unsheathing his sword, which rang out in the stillness of the night. I opened the door. The chamber was dark, and beyond the blackness I saw the shape of a desk. I headed straight for it, and Beau was at my heels. I opened a few drawers, looking for a parchment or anything that coincided with my theories. I found nothing but parchment, quills and a bit of sand with which to dry ink. On the tabletop, the duke's seal rested. I picked it up and rolled it around in my palm and let my gaze slidever the room. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and at the far end of the room, a large stone fireplace lay unlit. I could search through the books, but there were too many to go through. I needed more time.
"Maybe he does not use this room. He did not appear to be a studious man," I said.
Beau did not respond. He was overturning vases and pulling out random books. I joined him along the bookshelf, and as I was running my hands along the numerous tomes that lined the wall, a gust of air brushed against my cheek. I stopped and looked at a crack in between two vertical pieces of wood on the shelf. I glanced at the other shelves; none had this crack. It ran up and down from floor to ceiling.
On a whim, I pulled on it. It wiggled a bit, and with another tug, it swung open and revealed a dark passageway. Beau came over to investigate.
"A secret passage?" I said.
"The walls are covered in dust and cobwebs. I doubt it has been in recent use. It's nothing of our concern."
I closed the hidden door and turned back around. There was a chair by the fire, and stuffed between the arm and the cushion, a scrap of paper was poking out. I hurried over and plucked it out. I unfolded the parchment and moved closer to the fire to read. At first glance it was innocuous. The writer had asked Jon of his health and the weather in Neaux. Something about the neat even scrawl seemed familiar, and while I was puzzling over it, Beau had taken out the drawer in the desk and dumped the contents on the desktop. The quills and parchment clattered on the polished wood and drew me away from my reading.
I craned my neck, fearing someone may have heard the commotion, but no one came to stop us. I looked down at the letter once more and skimmed to the signature and gasped. I clamped a hand over my mouth.
"Did you find something?" Beau asked. He had a dagger and was prying at the bottom of the drawer.
"No, I just thought I heard something," I lied and shoved the letter into my bodice while Beau's attention was focused on the drawer. "What are you doing?"
"This has a false bottom, the inside is too shallow." He wriggled his dagger under a small seam, and then it popped, and a hinge revealed the real bottom of the drawer.
He set it down on the table and pulled out several correspondences, all with a blue seal of a circled tree, the Order of the Oak. I picked up a letter, if it could be called such. There were no salutations, just a few hastily written lines that read:
In Sanore, look for the count of Dumore, and give him the enclosed letter.
The letter was not with it, and I could only assume it had already been delivered. I sifted through a few more letters. All of them had similar encrypted messages, nothing that proved what Jon, Adair and the Order were planning. A cry rang out from down the hall, and Beau lifted his head and looked towards the door. Someone had discovered the unconscious man. They sounded close by, we couldn't go back the way we had come or we might be spotted.
"We should take the letters and flee through the secret passage," I whispered.
"No, if we take anything, he will know and grow suspicious."
I bit my lip. He was right, but this was the best proof I had. Even if it made no sense to me, perhaps it would to someone else. But who? I hated to do it, but Beau was right. I tossed the letters back into the drawer as quickly and neatly as I could. Beau closed the lid, and we slid the drawer's contents back on top. Jon was sure to notice the disarray in his drawer, but we did not have time for much else.
We slid over to the secret passageway. Beau opened it, and I ran into the darkness. It was pitch black, and I had to feel my way along the wall. Beau closed the secret door from the inside, and the darkness only seemed to deepen. We hurried down uneven stairs as fast as we dared, and I got tangled up in spider webs on more than one occasion. The descent ended, and I was surprised to find level ground. I stumbled but prevented a fall by throwing my arms out. A short distance away was a door. I could see light spilling out through a crack on the floor.
Beau went in front of me and approached the door. I hung back, waiting. I could not see much but a faint silhouette as he drew farther away from me. After a few minutes, he pushed the door open a crack and peered outside. He waved to me, and we emerged in a brightly lit storeroom. Links of cured sausages hung from hooks in the ceiling, and sacks of grain were piled on the floor. The 'door' we had come through was lined with shelves, which hosted some cheese and bread.
We crept out into a kitchen. A scullery maid was scrubbing a large iron pot and shrieked when she saw us. Beau ran over and clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Do not say what you saw here." He pressed a gold coin into her hand. "Do you understand?"
She nodded, eyes wide.
We slipped out of the kitchen and into the hall beside the room where the players' things were waiting. I went inside, and Beau waited outside. Once I was back, I heaved a sigh of relief. I went over to a corner of the room by a pile of discarded costumes. I wiped the dust off my gown and pulled some cobwebs that had gotten caught in my hair, lest someone realize where I had been. On the other side of the wall, I heard the excited voices of Jon's guests. If I had done everything right, he would never suspect that I had been here at all.
I peered at the door. Beau was still outside, playing sentinel. I reached into my bodice and removed the letter I had stolen. Perhaps Jon would not notice such an unimportant letter had gone missing. The writer was what drew me to it, and I stared at the signature and the seal pressed with wax. Just above it, I read the final lines of the letter.
'Do not forget your promise to me, Jon. I am counting on you to find out more about Sarelle.'
Signed by Sabine, Queen of Danhad.
Chapter Six
I DREAMED OF SABINE. She lay on a bed draped in heavy crimson curtains gathered along the bedposts. She was reclining, propped up by pillows, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. Beneath the blankets red as blood was the swell of her pregnant belly. She moaned and clutched at the blankets, tearing them with her ferocity. She leaned forward, and her knees drew in to her stomach. I stood at the foot of the bed, watching. The magiker was there with her, leaning on a bedpost and barking orders at flustered servants.
"I cannot do this," Sabine groaned and collapsed back on the bed, panting.
"You will if you want this child born alive," the magiker snapped at her.
Sabine glared at him. Her curls were damp with sweat and clung to her forehead.
"Ester," Sabine called, and Duchess Magdale came to her bedside. The duchess' fa
ce was pale as milk, and she held her hands up as if she did not know what to do with them. "I need you—" Sabine did not finish her sentence because she was howling in pain.
"The pains are closer together now. It will not be much longer," the magiker said to no one in particular. "You, girl, hold the queen's hand." He pointed at Duchess Magdale.
Duchess Magdale sat down hesitantly on the edge of Sabine's bed. Sabine grabbed her hand in a vice-like grip, and the duchess winced with pain.
Sabine shouted as another contraction rippled through her.
"It's time. Hold her legs," the magiker said and waved over a pair of servants.
One had blankets, the other a basin of water. They dropped their burdens and came forward. Each one took one of Sabine's legs. I went and stood by her head, watching with an odd sense of detachment. It has been only two months since I left Keisan. This must be a vision of the future.
Sabine pushed when the magiker instructed and rested when she was able. I was not sure how much time elapsed; it was hard to tell in the dream space. After much pushing and resting, Sabine gave one final push and screamed before falling onto the bed.
A baby wailed, and Sabine lifted her head to look at the child.
"A boy, Your Majesty," the magiker announced.
He cut the cord and then brought the child to her, wrapped loosely in swaddling. Sabine stroked his red face and brushed back his shock of black hair.
"He's beautiful, isn't he, Maea?"
Her head lolled in my direction, and she offered the child up to me. I took him with some hesitance. I held him in the crook of my arm. His face was covered, and I pulled aside the blankets. On top of his small head was a crown of silver and gold split down the middle. The silver side was inset with sapphires, and the gold with rubies.
"On the day the moon swallows the sun, the child of two crowns shall be unleashed to the destruction of man. Enemies, wedded and intent on a common foe, will stand no chance against his might. All shall fall, all shall perish, if the daughter of the blood does not smite the moon's child."
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