by Jeff Wheeler
Lia reached out and touched the surface of the Leering, closing her eyes and preparing herself for the battle of wills that would follow. The impression struck her like a pillar of pure stone, nearly crushing her with its weight. She lost all sense of herself for a moment, all sense of who she was. The blackness solidified around her and she recognized she had no power to speak, to move, or even blink. It was nothing but blackness, so thick she could see nothing, nothing at all. Her heartbeat’s frantic wail was the only sound that she heard. Not even a breath escaped her.
Then the smothering sense was gone and she could move again. The Leering had accepted her. She could almost feel a smug smile emanating from it. Tame me, child? it seemed to be saying. I am without beginning of days or end of years. Open my chasm and be acquainted with our ways. We are older than the stars. You will join us or you will die. We welcome you here, child of fallen Pry-Ree.
Lia’s skin crawled as the sniffing, mewling, hissing of the Myriad Ones dashed around her gleefully. They swarmed her, nudging and writhing around her as she knelt next to the stone. It made the small hairs on the her skin pucker. What was she to do?
The pull and tug of the Myriad Ones shrouded her, wrapping them in their folds so tightly she almost did not hear the Medium when it spoke. It was more of a gasp. A faint hint in deepest part of her soul.
Seek Hillel Lavender.
She heard it. She understood it. Rising, she shrugged away from the twisted beings lurking within the hedge maze. She walked quickly, following the orb through the maze until they emerged. Martin was chalk-white, his face haunted as he walked.
“What did you see?” Lia asked him.
He shook his head.
“Tell me,” she pressed.
“It was not what I saw but what I felt,” he answered. “The most vile thoughts came into my head. I dare not utter them. By Cheshu, a wicked place this is.” He looked at her fiercely. “You must end this, child. You must end this taint.”
She nodded. “That is why I came, I think.” Looking down at the orb, she asked it to find Hillel.
* * *
Without the Cruciger orb, she never would have found it. It was not a door hidden within the stone past a maze of secret tunnels that led her to Hillel’s room. The way was from the garden itself. A series of stone steps, hidden by the trees and the shrubbery, snaked their way up a single tower that rose like a great white torch into the star-spattered sky. The steps were narrow, the width more for the gait and size of a girl than a man. The stair coiled around the tower, ascending steeply round after round, going higher and higher. Lia motioned for Martin to wait below and with the orb in hand, she ascended. There was no railing to prevent a fall, only the wall itself to flatten herself against as she climbed higher and higher. The wind chilled her and made her shiver. Her legs burned as she continued to climb, coming around the tower again and again as she went up the neck of it towards a balcony she spotted high above her. Her heart thundered with the exertion. She knew she would find Hillel’s room at the top. There was no doubt of it.
Each step weighed against her, causing her to rest and gasp as she continued up and around, over and over. From the vantage of the tower, she could see the whole of the garden and realized some had lamps lit, which revealed little domes of light. She coughed against her arm to muffle the sound, and pressed upward, grateful her leg had healed so well. Another mountain to climb. One wrong step and she would plunge to her death. Best to keep focus on each step as she went. Another and another sweep around the tower wall. The breeze tugged at her cloak, giving her a sense of nausea. She licked her lips, trying to focus her courage. She was almost there.
The steps intersected with the foot of the rail of the balcony. The balcony was not spacious, but large enough to stand on and overlook the entire gardens below. Without knowing the stairs were there, one might never notice them at the corner of the railing wall, on the other side of the balcony, without a thorough search. Lia grasped the lip of the stone rail, with stubby pillars creating narrow gaps in it, and pulled herself over it, grateful to be in an enclosed area again and away from the risk of falling. There was a doorway beyond, well-lit with lamps and a cushioned seat. From the edge of the railing, Lia could barely discern the hetaera gardens below. Had Hillel seen the gardens and wondered what they were? Had she attempted to find them and been thwarted? Or had she discovered the steps leading down and found the courage to brave the descent?
Lia heard voices and pressed herself against the wall. She stuffed the orb into the pouch at her belt and waited, listening intently. What would she say to the girl? How could she impress on her the danger they faced and the need to flee?
Very cautiously, Lia waited and then peered around the edge of the doorway into the room. The door was wooden, but there were enough gaps for the light to exit and sound to carry. Lia stared through the crack in the door first and saw movement in the room. There were three girls in the room, but two of them seemed like servants. One of the girls disappeared through a door on the other side. The other lingered, waiting for the third, which Lia hoped was Hillel. She pressed her ear against the crack.
“Yes, you go down ahead,” said Hillel’s voice, which she recognized. “I am going to write again in my tome and then will join you at the fete. No, do not wait for me. I am slow in my engraving. I know you are excited to see that young knight who danced with you last night.”
She spoke in strong Dahomeyjan, but Lia still recognized her voice clearly.
The other girl did not need to be encouraged to find her beau and soon followed the first out the door, leaving Hillel alone. Lia held her breath a moment, waiting just a moment longer to be sure no one returned for a shawl.
Carefully and slowly, Lia pulled on the door handle and it bucked and resisted, giving her alarm that it was locked. But after the initial resistance, it opened quietly to her touch, the hinges oiled. Lia slipped into the torchlit room, amazed at the gauzy veils covering the enormous velvet bed, the ornate chests, hidebound and trimmed with gold, the fresh rushes, the smell of purple mint that was almost staggering in its intensity. The fragrance clung to the entire room. There were dishes, shelves, polished marble tiles beneath the rushes. It was the palace of a princess and contrasted sharply to Colvin’s small booth deeper below in the fortress.
There was a waxed wood changing screen, with several gowns hanging haphazardly across the top. It was from the changing screen that the sounds emerged, the rustle of fabric and then Hillel Lavender appeared immediately around the edge, facing Lia as she struggled to fit an earring into her lobe on her own. The two stared at each other, startled by the suddenness of their abrupt meeting.
Lia took the image in with a rush, her hunter’s eye clinging to every detail in a blink. The low-cut gown revealing ropes of gold and pearl necklaces to fill the open bodice. The gown was elegant, worthy of the tailor’s praise, but it was just the sort of gown Pareigis would have worn. She saw the rings flashing on her fingers, the rouge on her lips and smears of kohl at her eyes. But what startled Lia the most was her hair. It was lighter than what she remembered seeing before. It was almost a pale blond and the tresses had been crimped from excessive braiding. She realized immediately why. Hillel was slowly transforming herself to look like Lia in the hopes of winning Colvin’s heart.
For a moment, neither could speak. For Lia had the queer sensation that she was staring into the eyes of an enemy.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO:
Secrets of Dochte
Neither spoke. It was too much of a shock for both of them, but Hillel recovered and her demeanor changed to a look of ardent relief. “Lia!” she gasped exultingly. “I should not have doubted my senses seeing you here. The orb led you?”
Lia could not shake off the feeling that the other girl’s first reaction was not friendly. It was an oily feeling lodged in the quick of her bones. “Look at you,” she said, staring openly at the transformation. Hillel had always been so meek and timid – there was a fir
e in her eyes that was not there before. “You have changed.”
“I have!” she said, nodding quickly. “I am desperate to leave this place. Thank the Medium you have come. It is a boon, Lia, truly.” She rushed forward and embraced Lia, squeezing her with affectionate warmth and the tremulous waver of a suppressed sob. Lia smelled her, inhaling the rich fragrance of purple mint. It swarmed them both.
Hillel pulled away, still clutching Lia’s hands. “When are we to leave? Tonight?”
Lia was dazed at the response, confused by her initial reaction. She was wary though, her experience with betrayal reminding her of how uncertain friendship appeared to be. “I do not know. We must be cautious, for the tide prevents any rash departures. Look at you though. How changed you are.”
The other girl nodded in agreement. “They took all of my clothes, Lia. They promised to launder them, but said they were ruined by the salt air and brought me these instead. I feel ashamed to be wearing it, but I have nothing else. More than anything, I long to be away from this place. We must go immediately. Do you have a way out? A way to escape?”
Lia nodded mutely.
“Will you tell me?”
There was that feeling of uneasiness again. Lia shook her head. “The plan is still being formed. I needed to find you and see that I could reach you. It would be best if we could leave in the early morning. The city sleeps late and there would not be many witnesses.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Yes, we must go. Have you told Colvin yet? Why am I asking that. Of course you have told him. He was so different today, and I could not reason why. There was a look in his eye – a hope that I had not seen earlier. Do you know what has happened, Lia? The Earl of Dieyre is here!”
“I know – it is impossible how quickly he travels. He came on my heels.”
She nodded, her face flushing with emotion. “He brought word from my uncle. I am to marry the king and heal the rift between our factions. The deal was struck and my uncle said he was coming.”
“It is a lie,” Lia said. “I left your uncle a few days ago. Dieyre was a prisoner in Pent Tower and managed to escape. It is all a web of lies.” Lia gripped her shoulders. “The Blight is coming. It is coming by Twelfth Night. There are only a few more days to leave before it strikes, and it strikes here first. We must be gone.”
“I know,” Hillel said, nodding. “Colvin and I must go. I do not want to marry the king. I have delivered the message, but they do not believe it. They think the Aldermaston of Muirwood has invented the tale of the Blight to frighten us all. They say so much about him here. The Aldermaston of Dochte – he said that he will wait until the High Seer of Avinion rules on the matter. He says that Muirwood will be stripped of its Aldermaston and a new Aldermaston will come to power. Did you know this?”
Lia bit her lip, trying to force down her anger. “I met him. I know who they will put in his place. The kingdoms are unraveling like seams when the threads are pulled out. We must get to the ships, Ellowyn. We must leave these shores.”
There was a firm nod of agreement. “Yes, we must. But first we must go to Billerbeck Abbey. Colvin wishes to see his Aldermaston one last time and warn him to flee. We will try and persuade him to come with us. The Aldermaston of Muirwood too, if he is not ailing.”
“Very well,” Lia said, still uncertain how to interpret Hillel’s actions and her words. “There is a secret way out of this tower.”
“The steps, yes…I have seen them. They lead to the gardens below.”
There was something in her eyes – something that made Lia wary. “Have you…been to the garden?”
“Goodness, no! The steps are so narrow and there is no railing. It terrifies me to think of it. But the Medium has whispered to me that my escape lies that way. That I must brave the steps if I am to escape. There are woods beyond the gardens, down the slopes of the hill. I have heard that there are snakes in the woods. Poisonous snakes. With a hunter, I will not be afraid to face them. And with Colvin there.” She said it with a blushing smile.
Lia had a thought. An idea struck a chord within her. “Can you get a message to Colvin?”
Hillel smiled demurely. “I will see him shortly.”
“Tell him we will leave tomorrow night. I will come for him first and then we will get you. During the fete, I want you to feign illness and come back to your room before midnight. That will give us more time to get away before the dawn. Dismiss your ladies in waiting. Can you arrange that for tomorrow night?”
“Yes, but where will we go? Do you have a ship waiting for us? They would hunt us, I am sure. We must be able to get away quickly.”
“Leave that to me.”
The girl nodded with enthusiasm. Her hand touched Lia’s shoulder. “I am so grateful you came, Lia. More grateful than I can say. I will be waiting for you tomorrow night. Let me go and warn Colvin. I know he is anxious to depart.”
“Thank you,” Lia said and slipped back to the balcony. She started down the tower railing, going as quickly as she dared. It would be another long climb to reach the top and she knew she had to conserve her strength. For she had no intention of waiting another night. They would flee after the fete, ready or no.
* * *
The garden was wreathed in shadows when she arrived, panting, at the base of the tower. Her breath was ragged in her ears, and her throat was scorched for a drink. She waited a moment, catching her breath when a dark shape emerged from the trees.
Martin’s voice was thick with reproof. “I heard your steps quite plainly,” he said savagely. “That was careless.”
Lia looked at him and shook her head. “There is not much time. We must go tonight.”
“Too hasty,” Martin warned.
“That may be true, but I do not trust the girl anymore. She has changed.”
“Tell me,” Martin said in a flat voice, but she heard the slight growl in his throat.
Lia paced the footpath, motioning for him to follow. “She looks like Pareigis. The same cut of the gown. The same ornamentation.”
“Does she wear a Kystrel?”
Lia shook her head. “Not that I could see, but the Queen Dowager concealed hers in a necklace, and she had several she was wearing. She has changed the color of her hair. The style of it too. She dresses in the fashion of Dahomey. I fear that the time she has lingered here has corrupted her. Best if we get away tonight. She seemed anxious to go.”
“Why is that?” Martin asked. Again, his voice was sullen, deliberate.
“Because Dieyre arrived and said she was supposed to marry the king.”
“By Cheshu,” Martin said softly.
She looked at him. “Do you already know about this? Is this part of the knowledge you cannot reveal?”
He looked at her pointedly, his features sharp in the darkness. “Speak on. Why must we leave tonight?”
“I told her to warn Colvin we would leave tomorrow night. If she cannot be trusted, she will plan a trap for tomorrow night to catch me before I can free Colvin. I did not tell her about you. If you can get Colvin out, then I will get her out. Then they can escape.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What of you, child. What will you do?” His voice seemed to throb with emotion.
“If they are safely hidden, then I can do what I must do. I will warn the Aldermaston of Dochte Abbey about the Blight. I have already told Colvin about the ship waiting at Vezins. I will meet you there.”
Martin was silent for a long while. “It is a sound plan, being brief. There is much that can go wrong. Much that likely will. But you are wise to plot against her before she plots against you. That is thinking like an Evnissyen.”
Lia experienced a warm surge of pride at his praise. “Why do you think Dieyre is doing this? Surely he cannot defend his lies? Demont will not come as he said he would.”
Martin watched her as they approached the hidden entrance at the wall. It opened for her and she guided Martin inside. Once the stone
door sealed shut, she withdrew the Cruciger orb and it flared with light.
“When you get Colvin, you will not have much light. He had one candle last night. You must remember the path back to this door.”
“It was I who taught you the mazes beneath Muirwood, child. I think I can manage it. Lead on.”
She used the orb to point the way and quickly moved through the tunnel. “Why is Dieyre acting this way?”
“He is acting because he knows something we do not,” Martin replied. “The Queen Dowager is very subtle. Perhaps he is counting on her subverting Earl Demont. If he subverts, then the alliance can be solemnized.”
“But he is a maston,” Lia said, alarmed at Martin’s thinking.
“Even mastons succumb. Even mastons can be plagued with doubts. Turn here. I see the broken segment midway. A good marker. But a wise hunter is prepared.” He withdrew from a pouch at his waist a chunk of white stone. He marked the wall with it. “Chalk, from the cliffs,” he explained.
They continued through the passageway, winding through the hidden tunnel quickly. Lia remembered the tortuous passage, but the orb was her source of light and comfort. She could not imagine how difficult it would have been to find the way in the dark without it. Martin was wise to leave streaks of chalk to mark the way.
“Yes,” he continued sagely. “Dieyre is a crafty man who serves a crafty mistress. Be wary of his lies. The world is full of fools eagerly waiting to hear what they long to be told. A devious man will use that.”
“You seem as if you knew him,” Lia said. “You described him perfectly.”
“I have never met the man. But I am acquainted with his kind. He is driven by his anger. When he does not get what he wants, he calls it injustice. The anger feeds itself and destroys him from the inside. A wise man once taught me this saying from his tome. ‘For as the wood of the forest is, so the fire burns. And as a man’s strength is, so shall his anger be, and according to his riches he will increase his anger.’ Is it not strange that the more someone has, the less he feels he has? Envy can never be sated.”