“She just needs rest. Crowe said you might be thirsty.”
With a swallow, Starbride realized she was. “Yes, thank you.”
Maia crossed to a cabinet and pulled out a decanter of dark amber liquid and two glasses. As she poured two fingers of liquid into each glass and set them on the table, she shook her head. “Please don’t tell them I did this. They wouldn’t approve of my drinking liquor, but I think we deserve it, don’t you?”
“We certainly do.” She tipped hers back in one swift swallow. Lights danced in front of her eyes as the strong stuff burned down her throat. She slapped the table and grimaced.
Maia’s surprised face dissolved into a grin. She followed Starbride’s example and then stuck her tongue out and coughed, doubling over in her seat.
“Are you all right?”
Maia nodded, still coughing, her face red. “How’s your finger?”
“Blood hasn’t soaked through the rag. I think it stopped.” She didn’t unwind the makeshift bandage, though, not yet. “How long have you known Katya?”
“Since I was born. We’re cousins.”
Starbride paused before she burst out laughing. “I’m meeting royalty left and right, and I still haven’t learned how to greet them. Shall I bow?”
“Please, don’t. Any more sudden moves today and I might collapse.”
“Do you often serve as Katya’s bodyguard?”
“Yeah, though sometimes, I don’t feel up to the job.” She pushed her glass around on the table. “I have the Aspect, but I’ve never done the Waltz. After seeing…that, I never want to. I don’t want to become that.”
Starbride cocked her head to the side. Maia might have been the king’s niece, but she looked like any other scared girl at the moment. “This isn’t the cure for fear, you know,” she said, tapping the decanter.
“One more and we’ll call it good enough.”
“Agreed.” After they both knocked back another glass and coughed around the strength of the liquid, Starbride asked, “How does the Aspect get passed to spouses? The children I understand.”
“It’s a ritual. While the person with the Aspect and their partner are, um, being intimate, a pyradisté uses a special kind of pyramid on them. Right as they…you know, finish, the pyramid shares the Aspect between them. I’ve never done it.”
“I see.” Starbride frowned and tried to fight the pictures her mind conjured.
“I suspect the pyradisté hides behind a curtain or something. It’s so the non-Umbriel person can produce children that will have the Aspect, though it won’t present until—”
“Until the Waltz,” Starbride finished. “So, your children will have it?”
Maia shook her head. “I’m the cut-off, two removed from the throne.”
Starbride leaned back in her seat, her mind more at ease. Even though Katya could turn her into a Fiend, she wouldn’t bother. Starbride could never bear their children. She held her cool palms against her warm cheeks. “Do you know where I can find pen and paper? I need to write my maid.”
“I can get it for you. Crowe said not to tell her about the Aspect.”
“I know. I won’t.”
Maia fetched the writing materials after she put the decanter away. She didn’t leave as Starbride wrote a quick note about having dinner in Katya’s apartment. She didn’t know quite what she would say later. Her finger protested being bent, and tears threatened again at the thought of what she’d almost lost. “Waiting to read it?”
“I was just keeping you company.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit…rattled.”
“I know what you mean.”
Starbride folded the note. “Could you show it to Crowe, please?”
“He didn’t ask for that.”
“I have to prove myself worthy of your family’s trust. Right now, this is all I know how to do.”
Maia took the note into the private sitting room and then emerged a few moments later. “I’ll take it to your maid myself, since Averie’s busy. Crowe says to please come in whenever you’re ready.”
Starbride smoothed her hair from her face and stood. She unwound the rag from her finger. The cut had gone from bleeding to oozing. With one pull, she tore a small strip from the rag and tied it tight around the cut. She was alive, and she was whole.
She paused at the door. There was still time to call for Crowe and his pyramid instead of going in, to back out of Katya’s life. It might work.
With her chin lifted, she stepped through the door.
Chapter Nine: Katya
Six-year-old Katya played with little Maia on the sitting room rug. Three-year-old Maia focused on her wooden horse, oblivious to the events in the next room, but Katya couldn’t ignore the sound of their family arguing.
“How can one woman be so hard to find?” Da yelled.
“Untie my hands!” Uncle Roland yelled back. “If you want this done faster, give me leave to do what I need to do. Set me loose! You and all your damned rules, Einrich, I—”
Crowe spoke then, and even though Katya couldn’t make out his words, she knew he was telling everyone to calm down. It was important to be calm; bad things happened if you weren’t.
From the corner of the room, someone horrid whispered. Maia didn’t seem to notice, but Katya saw the short table in the dark with the shadowy figure bound to it.
No.
Uncle Roland came in from the other room and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. Maia ran to him, and he scooped her up. She played with his bearded chin, so like Katya’s father’s beard, but lighter brown. He sat at the dining table, Maia in his lap.
“Where’s your brother?” he asked.
“With his tutor.” Katya sat across from him. “He can’t play until later.”
“You’ll have your own tutor soon enough.”
Katya rolled her eyes. “Boring.”
With a chuckle, he pulled a pyramid from his pocket. Maia squealed and reached for it, and he deftly moved it away from her grasping fingers. “I made this for you, little K. Reinholt’s too old for it, I suppose. Can you guess what it does?”
Katya eyed the glinting sides of the pyramid, and icy fear seized her until she almost shrank away. The pyramid would hold her mind; it would keep her still while the horrid, whispering person approached the table-bound figure in the corner.
No.
Roland touched the pyramid’s apex, and it rotated on its own, painting the room with twinkling pinpoints of light. Maia giggled and clapped. “It’s perfect,” Katya said.
Roland chucked her under the chin. “Do you know what else I can do with it, little K?”
She shook her head, returning his grin with one of her own.
“I can cut up your friend.”
Katya fell back from the table, down and down, over and over, the horrid whisperer coming for Starbride, saying “Shh, shh,” as he did so.
“No!”
“Katya!” Starbride cried.
Katya opened her eyes to her sitting room ceiling, the entirety of it painted like rose-tinted dawn. Starbride leaned over her. She wore the same clothes as when…
Katya bolted upright, her head swimming. “Star!”
Starbride laid a steadying hand on her shoulder. “I’m all right.”
“Are you? What happened?” The knife had been cutting into her finger, so close to ripping it off. Katya swallowed to stop the rising bile.
“I’m fine,” Starbride said, though her sad smile hinted at a lie. She had a bandage at the base of her index finger. “Completely fine. Your friends rescued us.”
Katya touched Starbride’s chin, sliding her thumb over the smooth skin. She couldn’t remember anything but the bars and the unfolding horror in front of the cage. “Did I pass out? Oh! I called you Star. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.”
“What happened?”
Starbride stared for a moment without speaking, reminding Katya of Crowe. She picked up a necklace from the side
table; the broken remains of a glass ornament dangled from the chain. Katya felt her shirt and the lack of necklace underneath. A pyramid rested on a nearby table, and she could feel the calming waves flowing from it. “Oh, spirits, what did I do?”
“You saved me.”
Katya couldn’t look her in the eye. She didn’t know what her Fiend looked like, but she remembered her parents’ and Reinholt’s: the horns, the aura of menace, the burning cold, the claws, and the certainty of death. Katya covered her face as shame overwhelmed her.
Starbride’s arms went around her, and Katya leaned into the embrace as tears dribbled down her cheeks. Starbride rocked her for a few moments and hummed tunelessly into her hair. “I’m so sorry,” Katya said.
“Hush.” Starbride brushed the hair from Katya’s face. “This is wavier than I thought.”
“What?”
“All this pretty hair.”
“How can you even look at me, Star…Starbride?”
“Star is fine.” She glanced down at the settee, a light blush making her cheeks darker. “You’re the same as before.”
“A monster?”
“The same sense of humor.” She laid her cool palm along Katya’s cheek, the smoothness of it only slightly marred by the rough bandage. “You saved me. You did. Not the Fiend.”
“The Fiend would’ve hurt you.”
“And you didn’t let it.”
Katya snorted and nearly recoiled from the bitter sound. “Or my friends stopped me.”
“I don’t think your friends could have subdued you if you didn’t want them to, at least in part.”
“You don’t have any proof of that.”
“I’m studying law. I can argue until I turn blue.”
“What did Crowe tell you?”
“Enough.”
Katya didn’t want to press. Crowe had obviously filled in some gaps about the Aspect, and yet there Starbride sat, so close, as if she had nothing to fear. “Thank you for staying.”
When Starbride touched her hand, Katya turned hers over to clasp them together. There was one secret out from between them. Starbride sat so close, and the moment was so fragile, her eyes so warm and inviting. The flickering candlelight brought out the high cheekbones in her honest, beautiful face, and Katya leaned forward until their foreheads touched.
Katya ached to kiss her, drawn by the curve of her softly smiling lips, but it was too soon after the events of the day. They leaned against each other until someone cleared her throat from the doorway.
“I’ve had dinner brought in,” Averie said. “It’s in the formal sitting room.” She shut the door softly as she withdrew.
“Was that a disapproving cough?” Starbride asked.
“She just doesn’t like food getting cold.” Katya swung her legs over the settee and stood, reaching downward.
Starbride took her hand and followed. “My princess is always genteel.”
Katya’s heart warmed at the “my.” Tears threatened her again, but they were relieved tears. Starbride had seen Katya’s darkest side, and she hadn’t bolted. If she had any doubts, they were well hidden. “My parents made sure I had the best upbringing, including never leaving a beautiful woman unescorted to the dinner table.”
“A very important part of any education.”
Katya ate dinner in near silence and drank in Starbride’s presence. She wouldn’t try to convince Starbride to stay the night; their current relationship was too sweet to leave behind so soon. Even with Crowe present and Averie serving, they shared many a glance, but Katya didn’t try her usual tricks. No winks, no “accidental” meeting of the fingers over the saltcellar, no playfully long sips from the wineglass, just shy little smiles, and gestures that made her almost giddy.
In the past, when a lover had gotten too close, the threat of the Aspect had always ended things. She’d never found the courage to ask Reinholt or her father how they’d broken the news to Brom and her mother. She didn’t know how anyone could admit such a secret. Well, her cat had been let out of the bag in the worst way, and Starbride still sat with her, had held her and leaned against her. She’d made no demands; she’d offered only comfort and warmth.
Crowe decided it would be better if he escorted Starbride back to her room, and Katya had to agree. Starbride needed someone who could protect her without distractions. They said good night with just a quick glance, a soft laugh, and then Starbride was gone with Crowe. Katya sank down in her chair and sighed.
Averie’s hands settled on her shoulders. “I was worried you might have some repercussions from the transformation, but now I see you’re just lovesick.”
“Don’t tease me, Averie. Let me bask.”
“I’ll draw your bath. Bask in there.” She squeezed once before letting go. “I was worried about you.” She dashed from the room.
Left alone, Katya remembered everything unpleasant about the day: the cool of the bars, the smell of the man’s sweat, the knife against Starbride’s skin. Katya pressed her palms over her eyes and tried to shut the images out.
Left to its own devices, the Fiend would have torn Starbride apart. It wouldn’t have stopped until it ran out of targets, Katya was certain of that. The royal family was chained to the great pyramid during the Waltz for that very reason.
The traitors had known how to bring the Fiend out. Katya only hoped they had no idea she preferred Starbride to other women, that Starbride’s presence was convenient more than anything else. Katya prayed to Matter and Marla, spirits of perception, to hide their wisdom from the traitors’ eyes.
Would she have to see Starbride less just as she wanted more? Did the gift of clothing make her a target, or was it the invitation to tour the city? However the traitors found out about Katya’s actions, it was time to crack down. She’d given up almost everything for the Order of Vestra, but she wouldn’t give up Starbride, not yet.
She tapped her chin and supposed she could ask Starbride to move into the royal wing for safety, but that would set too many bells ringing through court. Besides, neither of them was ready for that. What they had was still too fragile, too newly born.
After her bath, she donned her large robe and emerged into her private sitting room to find both her parents waiting. Her mother’s expression seemed carved from marble, but her father waved in Katya’s direction. “See?” he asked. “Just as Crowe said, not a scratch on her. Isn’t that so, my girl?”
Katya nodded, smiling, but her mother’s expression didn’t change. “You were right, Ma. It was a bad idea.”
“Is that what you think I want to hear?” Her eyes narrowed, and the skin of her face seemed to tighten. “Did I come here to say I told you so, or did I come here to ascertain whether or not my daughter was injured after she became a Fiend and killed several people?”
A flush crept up Katya’s neck. Her mother had left out the part where she’d nearly let her friend be tortured, or maybe Crowe hadn’t mentioned that. Da drew a pyramid necklace from his coat pocket. “Crowe gave us this to give to you. It’s one of the spares. Saves you the trouble of carting around a larger pyramid.”
Katya nodded gratefully, but she couldn’t ignore her mother’s anger forever. She had the sense to realize her mother was as much frightened as furious. Swallowing her own temper, Katya said, “I’m sorry, Ma. It’s all I can say.”
Her mother’s face softened, but still she shook her head.
“My life will always be in danger.”
Da rested his hand on her shoulder. “We know that, my girl. My brother didn’t die so long ago that we’ve forgotten.”
Ma covered her mouth and turned away. Katya swallowed hard, knowing her mother had just pictured her dead. “I’m so sorry I scared you.”
Ma squeezed Katya’s arm hard, her eyes misty but her cheeks dry. “Be more careful.”
“I will, I promise.”
Da clapped her on the shoulder and wrapped her in a bear-hug until she wheezed. “Crowe is gathering the Order in the summer apartme
nts.”
“I’ll go right after I dress.”
“Come on, Cat. Let’s leave our girl to her duties.”
When Katya reached her summer apartments, the rest of the Order was waiting. Maia’s face was pinched and expectant; Crowe frowned at the tabletop, and Brutal seemed sleepy with his drooping eyelids. Pennynail’s Laughing Jack mask had the same maniacal grin, and Katya had to restrain herself from ordering him to face the wall. It looked to be a long night.
“They were all dead,” Brutal reported as she sat down.
Katya didn’t need to ask who he meant. She wouldn’t mourn the deaths, just the circumstances. “How is Starbride?”
“I wedged a little pyramid above her door when no one was looking,” Crowe said. “It will alert me if anyone approaches her room with ill intent, unless of course that person is a pyradisté, and then it won’t be able to read his or her thoughts.”
“Can’t you use one of the defensive pyramids like in the royal quarters?” Maia asked.
“Oh yes,” Crowe said, “an exploding pyramid in the halls where everyone can pass is an extremely good idea.”
“Peace,” Katya said. “What happened to the bodies?”
“Being slowly digested at a pig farm.” Brutal jerked his thumb at Pennynail. “The people he knows.”
Pennynail tapped the temple of his mask and then laid the backs of his hands under his jaw, tilting his head coyly. “You’re not just a pretty face,” Maia said. He tipped her a salute, though no one laughed at the joke.
With a loud thump, Brutal dumped a bag on the table. “This was everything of significance that they had.”
Crowe leaned forward to sift through the coins and handkerchiefs, one belt knife, three masks, and a blood-spattered bag of sweets. Katya’s stomach rolled to the left. “The pyramid?” she asked.
“Darkened. We broke it just in case.”
Crowe nodded, finishing his sift. “And the shop?”
“Supposed to be empty. The owner was an elderly man, deceased. Most of the stock was his, but the traitors added a few things.”
“Articles embroidered with Fiendish script,” Crowe said.
The Pyramid Waltz Page 10