Reflection: Harbinger of the Phoenix (Records of the Ohanzee Book 2)

by Rachel R. Smith

  “How interesting,” Nerissa replied automatically when she realized that the woman beside her had stopped talking. “What did your husband think?”

  “Oh, he just had to go straight to the…” The woman happily prattled on, blissfully unaware that the person she was talking to wasn’t actually paying any serious attention to her.

  Nerissa resisted the temptation to look across the table again. At first, she had been worried about Desta. Before the dinner, the poor girl’s hands had been trembling because she was so nervous about spilling something on her gown. Fortunately, aside from one near-miss during the soup course, Desta had managed to get through the meal without incident. Nerissa was proud of her, and she was sure Shae would be pleased too. Every experience on this journey was something new for the girl, and she had handled each situation with an unexpected level of grace and maturity.

  Unfortunately, keeping an eye on Desta meant that Nerissa also couldn’t help but notice the way that Darci had latched herself onto Rian for the evening. She was sure it was no coincidence that Darci was seated beside him. Nerissa felt conflicted. There was no reason why Darci’s interest in Rian should bother her, but it did. Worse still, curiosity about whether he reciprocated the feeling was constantly creeping around the edges of her thoughts.

  Nerissa caught a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye as a small, covered platter was extended to Raysel by one of the footmen. “A message for you, sir,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Raysel replied as he lifted the lid and took the folded piece of paper from within. He quickly read the note then slid it in his pocket.

  The footman withdrew before Nerissa could note anything outstanding about his appearance aside from the fact that he had black hair. She supposed that the ability to blend in was an advantage to someone who worked as a spy. Had that man even been Brigs? Raysel was not the only one who had received a message following the meal. At the opposite end of the table, Akkub and two other guests had also been presented with covered platters bearing notecards.

  “It has been a pleasure talking with you this evening, Caeneus,” the businessman’s wife said. The first strains of music began to emanate from the adjacent ballroom. “I hope we may have the opportunity to dance together later.” She rose to take her husband’s arm, and the pair joined the other guests making their way into the ballroom.

  Nerissa inclined her head graciously while ignoring the cold, prickling sensation that ran down her spine when the woman winked at her. She knew that the woman’s behavior was just a reflection of how convincing her disguise as Caeneus was. Still, no matter how comfortable Nerissa became blending in among the men, she didn’t think she would ever be prepared to handle advances from other women—no matter how benign the intent. Then again, she didn’t exactly know how to respond to advances from men either. The memory of the way Darci had shut down Cole and Eloc with a single word sprang to mind. Nerissa wasn’t sure that she would ever have that level of skill.

  The thought of Darci drew Nerissa’s eyes across the table in time to see Rian offering to escort her into the ballroom. She responded by flashing a dazzling grin and slipping her arm through his. Nerissa’s eyes narrowed at the way that Darci sidled up as close to him as she possibly could without impairing her own ability to walk. Sighing, Nerissa forced herself to turn her attention away.

  Raysel leaned over the woman’s vacated seat. “I’m supposed to meet Brigs during the third dance in the third room on the left past the cloakroom,” he murmured. “Go on into the ballroom with the others, and I will join you as soon as I’m finished.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be alright alone?” she asked.

  Raysel’s expression softened. “Of course. Brigs is one of us.”

  “In that case, I will keep Desta company,” Nerissa replied. She walked around the table and extended an arm to Desta, in the same way that Rian had offered his to Darci.

  Desta looked up at her with an anxious expression. “Caeneus, I have no idea how to dance,” she confided.

  Nerissa patted Desta’s hand consolingly. “Don’t worry, I’m not a very good dancer either.” At least, I’m not very good at being the one to lead, Nerissa added silently. “The first dance will likely be an icebreaker where you’ll frequently move from one partner to the next. Just copy the steps of the woman in front of you, and you’ll be fine.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Desta said, squeezing Nerissa’s arm gratefully. “You’re always looking out for me. I don’t have any siblings, but if I did, I would want to have an older brother like you.”

  “An older brother, huh? It’s nice that you think of me that way,” Nerissa replied as her inner voice cackled bitterly. They passed through the doors as the circle for the first dance was forming.

  **************************************

  Raysel exited the dining room through the grand double doors that connected it to the main entryway. There were numerous doorways along the hall, including those that led to the cloakroom and the room where Brigs had arranged to meet. Another belonged to one of the Mansion’s many bathrooms. If anyone questioned why he was here and not in the ballroom with everyone else, it would make for a convenient excuse. Fortunately, the hallway had remained empty so far.

  It gave him the perfect opportunity to find out exactly what kind of room lay behind the third door on the left. Raysel checked the hallway once more to be sure that no one was coming, then opened the door. The light from the hallway illuminated the room well enough to discern a few of the shapes within. A chair and ottoman were stacked together in one corner, and a rolled-up rug leaned against the wall behind a table stacked with boxes. It seemed to be a storage room for furniture. There was little chance anyone other than Brigs would have reason to come here tonight, so Raysel slipped inside to wait.

  Once the door clicked shut, the windowless room was plunged into darkness. Only a slender wedge of light spilled in from the hallway. Raysel stood still for a moment, giving his eyes time to adjust. It was so quiet that he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He reached into his pocket and fished out the palm-sized glow lamp that he had brought with him. There was a soft, metallic snap as he flipped open the cover with his thumb, and his immediate surroundings became bathed in a blue-white light. He shone the light around the room, looking for a place where he wouldn’t easily be seen if someone else came in before Brigs. After a thorough search, Raysel stepped into the gap between an armoire and another rolled-up rug and slid the glow lamp back into his pocket.

  Darkness draped its cloak over the room, turning the neat stacks of furniture into a cluster of unrecognizable objects. Raysel was not unsettled by the transformation. There was a comforting stillness that came partnered with the gloom. His shoulders loosened, and he leaned back against the wall to focus on listening for signs of Brigs’ approach.

  Some time later—it was difficult to say exactly how long—there came the soft tread of footsteps on the carpet in the hall. As the door swung open silently, Raysel closed one eye to prevent the flood of light from affecting his ability to see in the dark. The man that stepped into the room was so extremely tall and thin that he looked as if he had been stretched like taffy. Raysel remembered seeing this man attending dinner guests at Akkub’s end of the table.

  “I guess he isn’t here yet,” Brigs muttered to himself as he closed the door.

  “I’m right here,” Raysel said from the shadows.

  Brigs jerked, nearly dropping the glow lamp he had been in the process of unshuttering. The lantern rattled as he extended it out with a trembling hand in the direction the voice had come from. “You requested to meet with me?” he asked.

  Raysel stepped out from the gap. “Indeed I did,” he answered, walking into the lamp’s circle of light so Brigs could see his face.

  That seemed to calm Brigs’ nerves somewhat. He straightened his shoulders and inhaled a long, deep breath. “How can I be of assistance?”

  “Have you received any rec
ent communications from the Ohanzee?” Raysel asked.

  Brigs’ eyes shifted around as he thought. “Recently? No, not in many months.”

  “I guess it’s still too soon to expect a response. I had hoped to receive some guidance regarding our mission.”

  “Your mission?” Brigs asked.

  Raysel nodded affirmatively. “Yes. Normally, I wouldn’t have contacted you about this, but since we are already meeting anyway, it can’t hurt to ask. We are searching for antique books that have crystals embedded in their spines. They likely date from around the time of King Gared. Have you seen any books matching that description here in the Governor’s Mansion? Or some other place in Silvus?”

  “I’ve never seen one like that before,” Brigs replied.

  “That’s disappointing, but not entirely unexpected. These books are likely quite rare,” Raysel said. He took a step toward the door. “I’ve been away too long. I should return to the party now.”

  “Wait!” Brigs blurted out. “What inn are you staying at? I will contact you if I am able to find out anything more.”

  Raysel hesitated before answering. “We will only be staying a few more days before moving on to Rhea. If you come across any information, send a pigeon back to headquarters, and they can relay the message to us.”

  **************************************

  Nerissa let go of the woman’s hand as the dance steps led her twirling down the line. That woman was swiftly replaced by the next rosy-cheeked dancer. In the past, Nerissa had never understood why her partners always failed to remember that she would need to sit out a few dances to rest. Unless she had blocked out time to give herself a break, every line in her dance book would be filled. Well, the reason for that oversight was a mystery no more! Why had she never noticed that the men’s part of each dance required little more than a few small steps and hand movements? Despite the fact that the room had grown uncomfortably warm, Nerissa had no doubt she could continue dancing like this all night. Meanwhile, the women, in their layers of crinolines, practically ran laps around the ballroom to the beat.

  As the song drew to an end, Nerissa bowed to her partner and hastily stepped out of the circle. The fresh air of the gardens was beckoning her. She scanned the room, planning to invite Desta to accompany her, but decided that there was no need to fetch her after all. That bundle of boundless energy was happily preparing for the start of the next dance.

  The temperature noticeably dropped as soon as Nerissa crossed the threshold between the ballroom and the gardens. Though the autumn air was blissfully cool, only a few others had ventured out onto the patio. One of those people was Jarold, who was engaged in conversation with a businessmen. Nerissa took a seat on the edge of the fountain, listening as its gentle lapping intertwined with the chirping of the crickets. It should not be long before Raysel returns, she thought.

  Much to her dismay, not a moment after she sat down, Rian and Darci strolled through the patio doors. The pair made a circuit around the courtyard, and Nerissa clenched her teeth as Darci threw her head back in unbridled laughter. The light from the glow lamps highlighted the sheen in the aqua fabric of her gown, and the faceted stones in her necklace sparked like struck flint with her every movement.

  As she watched, a realization dawned on her. This whole time, she thought she had been feeling jealous of Darci, but it wasn’t really jealousy at all. Even though it was necessary for her disguise as Caeneus to be convincing, a part of her still wished that she was not able to pull off the act quite so easily. She had made a conscious effort to bottle up that emotion, but seeing Darci—and Desta—in their beautiful dresses made it bubble to the surface.

  Ever since she had become Heiress, Nerissa yearned for times when she could just be herself. She wanted to know people liked her because of who she was and not what she could do for them. That had been the motivation behind her plan for the second costume at the masquerade. She thought that she could only see how people viewed her real self when she was wearing a disguise. How ironic that now that she lived in disguise, she was upset because she felt invisible. Would Rian have noticed her and paid her the same attention he did Darci if they had met under ordinary circumstances?

  Heaving a frustrated sigh, Nerissa rose and wandered away from the fountain. A narrow pathway lined with glow lamps led deeper into the garden. She followed it until she came across a stone bench that was nestled behind a short hedgerow. It was far enough away that the lights from the Mansion didn’t obscure the view of the sky, but close enough that Raysel would be able to see her from the patio. She sank down and used the same focusing technique from her archery lessons to push the negative thoughts from her mind.

  A short time later, the crunching of gravel underfoot signaled someone’s approach. Nerissa pasted what she thought was a neutral expression on her face and turned, expecting to see Raysel. Instead, it was Rian who stood beside the bench. He was alone.

  “Oh, it’s you.” The words escaped her lips before she realized she was speaking aloud.

  Rian’s lips pursed as if he had bitten into a lemon. “Disappointed?” he asked.

  Nerissa chuckled uncomfortably. She scooted to one side to make room for him on the bench. “I just expected Raysel to return soon. Besides, I thought that you were…preoccupied.”

  “Ah,” Rian grunted vaguely as he sat down. “I can see how it would have appeared that way. According to Darci, she loathes playing the role of hostess for her father’s guests. It seems that attaching herself to me for the evening allowed her to dodge the obligatory rounds of small talk—for a while, at least. Akkub must have finally caught on because he sent for her to come back inside a few minutes ago.”

  “So she was only using you for your—what did you call them—stunningly good looks?” Nerissa teased.

  Rian rolled his eyes. “They can be a real burden sometimes.”

  Nerissa tried to hold back a laugh and snorted instead. Rian snickered. “We should probably head back inside,” she suggested.

  “There’s no hurry. I told Jarold where we would be,” Rian said. He leaned back on his hands and tilted his head up toward the sky. “Do you know the story behind the constellation Gallinula?”

  “No…” Nerissa answered. “Which constellation is that?”

  **************************************

  Raysel scanned the people congregated in small clusters on the patio. Inside the ballroom, he had seen Desta dancing and Leal playing the part of “merchant” while talking with one of the businessmen. There was no sign of Nerissa inside or in the courtyard. Jarold waved and strode over from the other side of the fountain.

  “We are going to be very busy over the next few days. I’ve managed to set up appointments with the owners of three shops specializing in antiques or collectibles and arranged for letters of introduction to five more,” Jarold said.

  “That is excellent news. At least one of us has had a productive evening,” Raysel replied.

  “Did your…discussion…fall through?”

  “No, it just didn’t yield any leads,” Raysel said. “Have you seen Caeneus or Rian?”

  “Yes, they’re together over there.” Jarold pointed deeper into the gardens where Raysel spotted two dark forms sitting side by side. “I’m glad Rian seems to have put his rivalry with Caeneus behind him.”

  “Me too,” Raysel agreed. He took a step forward, intending to join the pair, then stopped. It was good that Rian was warming up to “Caeneus.” Despite the fact that it was his duty to keep Nerissa’s true identity a secret, Raysel still felt a sense of guilt that he couldn’t share the information with Rian. Even if Rian didn’t know who “Caeneus” really was, leaving him alone with her for now was one small favor that Raysel could grant him.

  He turned toward the ballroom. “Let’s go back inside. There will be plenty of time to talk later.”

  Chapter 16

  Another Log on the Fire

  The fire in the hearth was dying, but Echidna loathed
to have another log added to fuel the flames. With a vexed sigh, she tucked her needle through a fold in the cloth and laid the stitching hoop in her lap. She rubbed her hands together and huffed with irritation at the dryness of her skin. The fire was necessary to keep warm, but it made the air so infernally dry at the same time. Cold weather was such a disaster for her skin.

  Echidna pulled a compact mirror from the pocket of her robe. The Queen of Marise had to maintain an impeccable appearance at all times—whether attending a state function or merely relaxing within her own private rooms. Even her dressing robe exuded elegance and sophistication. A collar of black feathers framed her face while purple silk spilled over her legs and pooled on the floor around slippered feet.

  Satisfied that not a single hair was out of place, Echidna turned behind her and tugged the tasseled cord that hung down from the ceiling to summon one of the maids. Another log on the fire and a bottle of lotion would have to do. Perhaps a glass of wine, too. As she shifted to find a more comfortable position in the high-backed chair, something soft squished beneath her slipper.

  Echidna lifted the bottom of her robe to find that the object was one of Ladon’s toys. A quick flick of the foot flipped the stuffed pig away. Ladon had been put to bed hours ago, but his toys remained scattered across the rug. If it had been up to Echidna, she would immediately have had one of the nannies or maids put them away. Casimer, however, preferred to be “surrounded by little reminders of his son” when the boy wasn’t around.

  She glanced across the room to where Casimer was sitting behind a small desk, alternately reading and then signing various papers. The “to read” stack on his left slowly dwindled as the “read” stack on his right grew. It was a necessary but futile effort. No matter how hard or how fast he worked, Casimer would never finish the pile on the left. Echidna understood that a King’s work had no end. Still, her husband worked far too hard, and he needed at least one room where work was off-limits. What better place could there be for rest and relaxation than the common room between their suites? Yet, Casimer had insisted on having a desk in this room as well. At least he didn’t work all the time. Until Ladon’s bedtime, Casimer had been sitting on the rug completely immersed in playing with his son. The corners of Echidna’s lips curled upward at the memory, but her reminiscence was cut short by a knock on the chamber door.