The Pyramid Waltz

by Barbara Ann Wright

“I heard you! Of all the…I will do this, Katya! I can figure it out.” His eyes blazed, and he looked more alive than she’d seen in days.

  “I know you can. That’s why I’m not going to make you do it.”

  “I don’t understand. If your father commanded it, you have to do it.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “No, no. I will do it. I mean, I don’t want to be replaced, but if that…if your father wants me to be replaced, don’t anger him on my account.”

  “I’ve thought of a way to keep you working and keep him happy.”

  Crowe’s brows turned down before they shot up. “You clever thing, you. You want me to train Starbride.”

  “It’ll keep her out of the Pyradisté Academy—so I can see her more often—it’ll get her an education, and you’ll be training your replacement.”

  “Do you really want her in the Order?”

  “Well…she wants to be involved, and I love her, Crowe. I really do.”

  His face softened. “Yes, I can tell. And I’m happy for you, but you have to make sure she wants to go on dangerous missions when called. And you can’t keep her a secret from the king and queen.”

  “I know. One thing at a time. Will you do it? The training, I mean.”

  “If she agrees, of course.”

  Katya gripped his shoulder once before letting go. “Have you written to Layra?”

  “No, I was waiting to tell you about the captives before I did.”

  “Start writing, then. And I want the best pyramids you can make guarding our guests.”

  “Done.”

  “Maybe,” Katya said idly, “Pennynail can get some of his friends to help you look into the Pyradisté Academy and see if they can find this bearded man.”

  Crowe stared at her, his expression flat. “Nice try.”

  “What?”

  “Discover the identity of Pennynail’s friends and you discover his, is that it?”

  “Guilty.”

  He snorted. “I’ll go up and get to that letter now.”

  “Good. I want a word with one of our guests, and then I’m off to check on Maia again.”

  “Darren’s second on the left. Cassius is last on the right.”

  “What happened to the Shadow?”

  “I got everything I could from him, Katya.”

  With a shiver, Katya nodded. “Gallows or headsman’s axe?”

  “Never mind that. How was Maia last night?”

  “Angry. She promised not to kill you, though.”

  “I wouldn’t mind if she did.”

  “She’ll forgive you one of these days, Crowe.”

  He didn’t respond, and as Katya stepped to the dungeon door, she thought she heard him whisper, “I hope not.”

  The door to the dungeon proper had no locks, no door handle, no opening of any kind. Instead, she pushed her palm to a pyramid set in the wood, and it tingled under her palm as it recognized the Fiend. The only people who could get past it were those who carried the Umbriel Fiend and those Crowe had tuned the pyramids to recognize, like himself and Pennynail. She supposed Crowe brought the prisoners food himself.

  She held her lamp high in the dark space beyond the door. Wan light shone from pyramids set in the walls, but darker pyramids glinted in the flickering light. Those would do more than just cast illumination. Some were alarms, some weapons. They sparkled like dozens of little eyes. With a shiver, Katya moved on to the cells guarding Darren. The door swung open with a creak as the pyramid recognized her, and Katya let her eyes adjust to the dim light penetrating the darkness of his cell before she stepped inside.

  Darren sat on the stone floor against the far wall; his manacled wrists lay in his lap, and his chains coiled on either side of him before leading back to the wall he sat against. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” His eyes were still as smug as they had been at the manor house, and his smile was as certain.

  “You knew the mind pyramid wouldn’t work on you.”

  He shrugged, making his chains jingle.

  “And yet, here you are. Your secrets might be out of reach of our pyramids, for now, but your body is still in a cage.”

  “But my imagination is free to roam. I’ve been picturing a golden-haired princess entwined with a dark-skinned Allusian, and it’s kept me, oh, very entertained. It would be better if you described exactly what it’s like to fuck her. Do you use something special or just your fist?”

  Katya raised an eyebrow, all the rise he would get from her if his ammunition was so weak. “How long will your confidence last? Until you crack here in the dark, or until we string you up in the courtyard?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  “How about your brother? Will he be as haughty after a few days?”

  Darren tsked. “She tries and tries to get me to admit things, and yet she never succeeds.”

  “I don’t need you to admit it. I know you’re Darren and Cassius Sleeting.”

  He stroked chin. “Sleeting, Sleeting…Ah! Now I remember. The woman who should have been queen. If that had been our mother, wouldn’t we be Darren and Cassius Nar Umbriel?”

  Katya felt her face twitch and hoped he wouldn’t see it in the dim light. “You’re right. It wouldn’t be Sleeting. It would be Darren and Cassius Whoreson.” Darren’s face went cold. “Aha, a hit at last. You are Carmen Van Sleeting’s children.”

  “Any man would object to his mother being called a whore.”

  “Except the sons of whores. Or should I say the grandsons of whores? I wonder if this servant girl, your grandmother, actually worked in the palace. And if she did, if she tried to get into my grandfather’s bed, failed at that, and had to bed the dog boy or the privy man instead. Did you know her? Was she very ugly?”

  Darren’s arms flexed, and the chains jingled again. Katya set her footing in case he rushed at her, though she didn’t think he could reach her with the chains. “Perhaps you’d like to talk about your father,” she said. “I heard he died before his time. Was it syphilis? I’ve heard that can be a very painful death.”

  “You’ll find out what it’s like to die painfully.”

  “I’m not the one in chains.”

  He leaned forward. “You will be.”

  Katya knew it was nonsense, but something about the sureness of his tone sent a shiver down her spine. “We’ll talk more later.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  As the door swung shut, she called, “Good day, Whoreson or Grandwhoreson.”

  She heard him mutter “Bitch,” and knew she’d left him with some nasty thoughts. She’d let him remember them, over and over again, in the dark.

  Chapter Twenty: Starbride

  Dawnmother had both breakfast and a knowing smile waiting when Starbride returned. “I don’t need to ask how it went, do I?”

  “Dawn, I’m so happy.”

  “So I see.”

  “Are you still suspicious?”

  “Always.” Dawnmother laid out a pot of tea and a few slices of bread with fruit.

  Sitting with a cup of tea, Starbride told Dawnmother everything about the night before, shivers running up and down her spine as she recalled the finer points. Dawnmother listened with rapt attention and asked the occasional question, but there was so much Starbride didn’t even have words for.

  “Ah, Star, it sounds perfect.”

  “Like one of your many hayloft trips?”

  “It reminds me of Shinehorseman. With him, it was perfect.”

  “I remember. Well, I remember what you would tell me about him. Why didn’t the two of you stay together?”

  “He moved to one of the smaller Farradain cities between Marienne and Newhope. It wouldn’t have worked anyway. Only servant caste can really understand the servant’s pledge.” She brought her gaze back to the present. “Did the princess provide some of the promised answers?”

  “Yes, but, I can’t share them, even with you.”

  Dawnmother raised her hands to the ceiling
and then dropped them. “These people and their secrets! Our lives are one, can’t they see?”

  “I know, I know.” She thought of Crowe, a secret half-Allusian trying to operate in Farradain society with an Allusian servant’s mind. “I don’t know if I could explain the bond, but a promise is a promise. Katya will relax that promise—soon, I hope—and I’ll tell you everything. Someday, the truth for you.”

  Someone knocked on the door. Dawnmother cracked it open and peeked out. Starbride strained to hear a muted conversation before Dawnmother turned with an envelope. “It’s an invitation to tea with a party of courtiers and also Baroness Jacintha Veronda.”

  Starbride blinked. “A baroness?”

  “Quite a coup.”

  “It must be for all the courtiers.” There was another knock, and Dawnmother collected another invitation, this one to a riding party the following day with a host of courtiers and also Countess Nadia Van Hale and Viscount Lenvis Neversfall.

  Starbride frowned. “Is that one for all the courtiers, too?”

  Dawnmother turned the invitation over. “It’s addressed to you personally.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “You’re the princess’s lover.”

  “More eyes on me, she said.”

  “And she was right.”

  Another knock came and then another; invitations poured in, some with small gifts of ribbons or sweets. Letter after letter came from courtiers who gushed about how sorry they were that they hadn’t invited Starbride to come and see them earlier. Things had been so busy, no doubt she understood.

  Starbride put her head in her hands. “This is just what I need. I’ll never finish my work now.”

  “You have to go to some of these, you know, those hosted or attended by nobles.”

  “I know, I know. It’s one thing if they ignore me, but quite another if I ignore them.”

  “Time to dress. This tea party starts in an hour.”

  Starbride wore an ugly dress; everyone at the party did. She carried the little pillow Dawnmother had made for her, gratified to see that they all carried them, too. The ladies gathered around her like a flock of curious magpies covered in pastel froth. She wore her mint, and they clucked over its design and color. Compliments poured from them as they shepherded her to a small settee, and she put her tiny pillow under her and sat. She faced the one woman who hadn’t risen at her entrance.

  The other courtiers introduced her to Baroness Jacintha, a slight, dark-haired woman in her late twenties, and then they began to chatter at such a pace that it was difficult to keep up. They’d fall silent when Baroness Jacintha spoke, and after she’d finished, they’d all talk at once as if they were clockwork toys powered by her voice. Starbride sipped from her delicate teacup and let the scene wash over her.

  “Allusians are so interesting,” Baroness Jacintha said, momentarily quieting the courtier horde. They all inhaled to speak, but Baroness Jacintha opened her mouth again, and Starbride could almost hear the courtiers holding their breath. How many would pass out and die if she didn’t speak soon? “I acquired an exquisite fan last summer that the seller assured me was Allusian.” The courtiers breathed out and in again. “I simply adore your hair.”

  “Thank you.”

  The courtiers paused, waiting for Baroness Jacintha to speak again, but when she lifted her teacup to her lips, they talked over one another, talking at Starbride but rarely to her.

  One of them called her Star, making her cringe. She gritted her teeth and bore it, fighting not to think of Katya breathing the familiar name into her ear. Baroness Jacintha made a little cry of protest, and everyone froze. She waved a finger at the offending courtier. “No, no, ladies, none of that. The shortening of an Allusian name is reserved for intimates.” She put on a fantastic smile. The rest of the horde tittered.

  Starbride inclined her head. “Thank you, Baroness Jacintha.” She saw to the heart of the calculated slip-up. It shouted, “Speaking of intimates…” Well, she wouldn’t rise to the bait. Let them name Katya if they wanted to speak of her. She did wonder which of them had researched Allusia for the baroness, but in the end, it didn’t matter. She sipped her tea and listened. They talked about fashion; they talked about riding and tea and croquet. They talked about gifts they’d received from lovers they were considering. When she couldn’t stand talking of nothing anymore, Starbride asked Baroness Jacintha about herself.

  “Me?” Baroness Jacintha placed a hand on the flounces of her bosom.

  “The highland lakes are your home, correct? I hear it’s very beautiful.” They weren’t the only ones who could do a bit of research. Dawnmother had run to the library on feet made of wings.

  For a moment, Baroness Jacintha’s expression turned wistful. “Yes, autumn is the best time, when the leaves begin to turn…” She shook her head at the glittering crowd around her. “Of course, one prefers court to trees.” The throng giggled and nodded. Starbride fought a frown. They hung on Baroness Jacintha’s every word, emulated her every gesture. What could a baroness be worried about? Their opinions? Hers seemed to matter so much more.

  “How long have you been at court?” Starbride asked.

  “Five years.” She lifted her chin and then leaned in close as if they were alone. “And with nearly as many lovers.”

  The crowd erupted in giggles and girlish squeals. They covered their mouths like children. Starbride put on her best smile. According to the gossip Dawnmother had uncovered, Baroness Jacintha’s lovers numbered twice that many.

  Maybe she could steer the subject to something she could at least stand. “Who are the best jewelers in town?”

  They spent the next fifteen minutes or more informing her of various artists. This craftsman did his best, but his creations were simply yesterday, though one handsome lord with interesting prospects favored his creations. Some jewelers were old and established; others up and coming. It was an absolute pity that a few promising newcomers didn’t have much money and had a hard time keeping their businesses running, but one could always commission them if one needed a gift.

  Starbride nodded until the very end, when one of them asked, “Do you need a gift for someone?”

  The question hung heavy in the air. Baroness Jacintha put her teacup down to listen, and they all leaned in a little farther. Starbride almost laughed, a loud guffaw that would make them jump back. “No, I’m just curious.”

  They sat back, disappointment radiating from their expressions. Baroness Jacintha seemed a little vexed, and Starbride wondered if she’d be invited for tea again. She didn’t think it likely. Ah well, that left more time for the library.

  And more time for Katya, it seemed. After the tea party, Katya surprised Starbride an hour into her studies, proving she wasn’t above a rendezvous amidst stacks of old books. Starbride pulled away from her embrace after a long moment. “Just how many women have you kissed in this library?”

  “You’re the first.”

  “Well.” Starbride ran her fingers over Katya’s coat buttons, “now that you know your way around, maybe you’ll try reading the books, too.”

  “Hmm. How about I leave the studying to you and just drop in from time to time.” Someone cleared his throat from the other side of the shelf just as Katya leaned in for another kiss.

  “I should stick my signet ring around the corner,” Katya grumbled.

  “Don’t be a bully, dear Princess.”

  Katya kissed her gently. “I obey your every command, Miss Meringue. Unfortunately, I have to dash.”

  Disappointment made her chest ache, but Starbride reminded herself that she also had work to do. “I’ll see you tomorrow after riding?”

  “I’ll send you a note when I’m free, I promise.”

  A riding party sounded so much better than tea. Starbride wore her Allusian outfit, and the courtiers exclaimed over it. She wondered if her clothing would start a new trend at court and fervently hoped so. Her mother couldn’t object then.

  Vis
count Lenvis had tanned skin, reminding Starbride a little of her people. His features were all Farradain, though, lacking the rounder face and higher cheekbones of an Allusian. He talked about his homeland with a relaxed air, so different from the baroness. “I live in Lucienne-by-the-Sea,” he said, “but don’t get me started about her. I could talk someone to death about the ocean, the sky, the bracing salt air…”

  “Viscount Lenvis has one love,” Countess Nadia said, “and she is big and wet and miles away. He has no time for us poor human women.”

  “Not true, Countess Nadia! How could I ignore such beauty as rides with me today?” He gestured toward them. The other courtiers were spread out, riding slowly over the rolling fields.

  Countess Nadia inclined her head at the compliment and cast a glance at Starbride, quick and appraising. She then threw a calculating glance at the viscount that carried more than a little lust.

  Starbride had a revelation. The countess was trying to charm the viscount out of his trousers—even though she had to be twenty years his senior—and she clearly wanted to see if Starbride had the same intention. Well, here was one woman who wasn’t taking rumors of Starbride and Katya for granted.

  Still, Starbride would have to put Countess Nadia’s suspicions to bed somehow; she couldn’t risk making an enemy. After a quick glance at the countess’s jewelry, Starbride decided that the best way to reassure her was to make a stab at friendship.

  When Viscount Lenvis rode forward to speak with another knot of people, Starbride grabbed the opportunity, gesturing to a ruby the size of a pinky nail that blazed on Countess Nadia’s finger. “I couldn’t help noticing your beautiful ring, Countess. My father taught me much about jewelry, but I’m afraid I don’t recognize the maker.”

  “Thank you, child. Métrande himself made it.”

  Starbride’s mouth went dry. “Spirits above! He made one of the queen’s crowns!”

  The countess nodded, her eyes sparkling.

  “The craftsmanship is amazing.”

  “I was thinking the same thing about your necklace. Your father’s creation?”

  Starbride touched the diamonds she had worn to the Courtiers Ball. Dawnmother had said that a countess deserved to see the best. “Yes. He always said he was lucky to have a daughter who loves jewelry as much as he does.”