The Pyramid Waltz

by Barbara Ann Wright

  But Lady Hilda was always trying to impress Katya, and Katya was good with weapons. What if Lady Hilda thought the best way to impress was to share in her would-be lover’s interests? What if she demanded the same of her staff?

  The whole room crawled with tension for half a second before someone asked, “Am I late to the party?” Exhaling, Starbride turned to where Countess Nadia stood in the doorway.

  “Countess Nadia,” Lady Hilda said. “I’m…It’s a pleasure to see you. What, uh, what brings you by?” Her two maids faded to the back of the room.

  Countess Nadia gave everyone a curious look and then cast a pointed glance at the dinner table. “I was curious as to what you were up to. I don’t suppose there’s room for one more? I do miss your conversation, Lady Hilda.”

  Lady Hilda bowed, her courtly composure returned. “Please, join us.” They sat around the table again, and Dawnmother resumed her little stool. The other maids withdrew after a curt gesture from their mistress.

  Lady Hilda didn’t seem nervous over Countess Nadia eating the food, convincing Starbride that it wasn’t poisoned. Poisoning was probably for peasants. That left direct attack, though Starbride couldn’t be sure of what they had intended to do. For all she knew, they were going to make fun of her until she acquiesced. With her wedding cake of a dress, they would’ve had plenty of ammunition.

  Dinner went on for another half hour, filled with empty pleasantries, idle gossip, and the occasional jibe from Countess Nadia to Lady Hilda about this or that. All Lady Hilda could do was laugh in her brittle-glass way. When Countess Nadia seemed tired of it, she took Starbride’s arm. “Walk me to my room, child.”

  Starbride held in a smirk. Lady Hilda couldn’t argue; she could only bow and remark on how pleasant it all had been. Starbride kept her chuckle inside until they were a good deal down the hallway.

  Countess Nadia tsked. “You play with a viper, child.”

  “You made her toothless.”

  “I won’t help you in these games. It amused me this once, but I will not be available at your every call.”

  “No, of course not. Please, excuse me, Countess. I involved you because I thought it would entertain you.”

  “That’s the end of that, then. Now, what was going on as I came in? You looked like tavern brawlers.”

  “You’ve seen a tavern brawl?”

  “I’ve seen things that would turn your hair white.” The truth shone in those pale eyes.

  “I don’t doubt that. She was warning me away from the princess. She tried to bribe me.”

  “I see. A considerable sum?”

  “Considerable.”

  “And your answer was undoubtedly no. Hmm, I wonder if she was going to kill you or beat you into submission.”

  “I had a plan in case the evening turned violent. Lady Hilda’s letter and a letter stating my whereabouts are with the princess’s lady-in-waiting.”

  “Smart.”

  “Thank you, Countess Nadia.”

  “And you indicated a time at which you would report to the princess or the lady-in-waiting, and if you did not make this report, they would know that something had happened to you?”

  “Yes, Countess.”

  “And you would still be dead or injured?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  Countess Nadia didn’t let her finish. “And so these precautions helped you how?”

  “Um, I was just about to inform Lady Hilda of them.”

  “As she was beating you to death?”

  “It would have stopped her,” Starbride said, but she realized how lame it sounded.

  “Ah, I see. You put yourself in danger and then inform your attacker that your whereabouts are known to a particular lady-in-waiting, therefore giving your attacker her next target.”

  “She…she couldn’t have gotten into the royal apartments!”

  Countess Nadia snorted. “Do not underestimate a determined member of the nobility, my dear, especially that one. You walked into a bear’s den with a paper spear, as my grandmother used to say.”

  “What would you have done?”

  She tilted her head. “Declined her invitation but made one of my own. Invented some excuse to maneuver her to a time and place of my choosing. I would have informed the princess and had her present. Not in the room, of course, since you wanted to know Lady Hilda’s intentions, but close by, eavesdropping. I would’ve had at least one other person nearby, besides your maid, someone familiar with weapons.”

  “But surely Lady Hilda wouldn’t…” She trailed away. Now that she thought about it, she had no real idea what Lady Hilda would or wouldn’t do.

  Countess Nadia stopped and looked her in the eyes. “Child, you should not have gone; you should not have eaten that food. She chose not to poison you this time, trying to see if the money would work, but you have no idea what she had up her sleeve. There are poisons in this world that can kill you in a snap and those that can put you to sleep in an instant. You thought of violence, but you weren’t prepared for it. More likely, she would’ve drugged you and stuck you in a stranger’s bed.”

  Starbride shook her head rapidly. “The princess would never believe I went willingly, not with the letters in her possession, not to mention the fact that she knows me.”

  “How much would that matter if you became pregnant by an unknown father?”

  Starbride’s mouth dropped open as horror crept through her belly.

  “What would that do to your family? The princess couldn’t keep a pregnant lover, and you would be gone from court in a twinkling, just as Lady Hilda wanted you gone.”

  “But Lady Hilda would be punished!”

  “What would her punishment mean to you if you were already neck-deep in trouble? You must use your head. Protect yourself. If she wanted to, Lady Hilda could escape even the princess’s rage.”

  Starbride thought of Katya’s Fiend and doubted it, but Countess Nadia’s words sank into her chest. “Thank you. I will follow your advice to the letter.”

  Countess Nadia chucked her under the chin. “There, now. Didn’t I say you were smart?”

  Even though it was still early when she reached her room again, Starbride felt like crawling into bed. “Well.” Dawnmother set her stool and basket down. “What do you make of all that?”

  “It was foolish to go. The countess saved us both.”

  “I agree, but we didn’t know all that we were getting into, Star. Learn from this, but don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  “My stalwart supporter.”

  “Always. Now, I’ll send Averie the note saying that we’re both in one piece. Did you get enough to eat with Lady Viper?”

  “Ugh, my stomach’s still turned.”

  Dawnmother bent to pick up an envelope near the door. “Another invitation while we were gone.”

  “Unless it’s from Katya or the king and queen, let’s ignore it!”

  “Are you sure? Pyradisté Crowe says that if you’re not busy, he has some free time this evening, and would you like to really begin your training?”

  Starbride leapt from her seat, remembering the way the pyramid lit up, the tingling that ran through her body. “Really?”

  “That put the spring back in your step.”

  “I’ll go now!”

  “Will it be dangerous?”

  “It wasn’t the last time, but come along if you like. As far as I know, it will drain me to the point of exhaustion, and I’ll need your help limping home.”

  “Now my curiosity is piqued. If we see Lady Viper again, I’ll scream that I’ve got Countess Nadia in my basket. That ought to stop her long enough for us to run away.”

  “Maybe I should hire a bodyguard.”

  “Not a bad idea, but ask the princess for a free one. She has plenty, I’m sure.”

  Starbride thought of being tailed through the halls by Pennynail. People would be so busy staring at him that they wouldn’t notice her.

  She and Dawnmother didn’t kn
ow their way into or through the secret passageways, so they hurried to the royal section and sent their intentions to Crowe and the note to Averie by messenger. Once they were in his office, Crowe greeted them with a friendly smile. He bowed to Starbride and then clasped his hands in front of him and pressed them to his heart when he faced Dawnmother, one servant greeting another.

  Dawnmother returned the greeting. “Our lives for them,” she said in Allusian.

  “And also the truth,” he replied. His accent sounded more than a little rusty.

  “Until death,” they said together.

  “Well, well,” Dawnmother said, “I am continually amazed by the events around me.”

  Crowe leaned on the arm of a couch. “We all have secrets on top of secrets.”

  “So I begin to see. Is it all right if I stay for the training?”

  “Of course. An untrusted servant is a jar with no bottom.”

  Starbride laughed. “No matter how far we are from home, Horsestrong lives in us still.”

  Crowe waved her over to the same table she’d sat at that afternoon. “I’ve had enough gloomy business for today and decided to do something I take joy in.”

  “Teaching others?”

  “I don’t often get to. I think the last person whose education I had a hand in was…um, Prince Roland.”

  Starbride reached across the table and took his cold hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Katya told you about Roland?”

  “Only that he died long ago, but the subject has resurfaced lately.”

  Crowe glanced at Dawnmother, but she’d withdrawn to a corner of the room, out of earshot of their low conversation. “Let’s begin, shall we?” Crowe said. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

  He pulled a length of velvet from the table, revealing a cluster of pyramids set into four rows. “Destruction, mind magic, utility.” He touched the first three rows as he spoke and paused on the last. “Fiend magic.”

  Her breath caught as she burned with questions, but she only nodded for him to continue.

  Crowe moved back to the first row and touched the three pyramids that sat in it. “Flash bomb, fire, disintegration.” All three had very sharp points and steep angles. The fire pyramid was red near the points, and the disintegration pyramid had caps with filigree like the shopkeeper’s pyramid, but these were oily black. “I don’t currently have them made, but there are also death and detonation pyramids. When broken into someone, a death pyramid can shock them to death.” His mouth twisted into a grimace. “I don’t like to make detonation pyramids. The risks of them blowing up before you mean them to are far too great. Destruction has always been my strongest area, and each of the pyramids within that area can be made to different strengths.”

  “Does everyone have a strongest area?”

  He nodded. “At the academy, you’re ranked based on your strength in pyramid use and how skilled you are at crafting pyramids, both for your own use, and for the use of another pyradisté.” He tapped the three destruction pyramids again. “Destructive pyramids are the only kind that can be used by non-pyradistés because they simply have to be broken. The death pyramid, despite its ominous name, is relatively easy to use, but it takes skill to make one that can actually cause death and not just serious injury. Most destruction pyramids are difficult to craft.”

  She leaned forward, almost touching the pyramids, but she didn’t dare. “And the guardian pyramids that you put in the walls?”

  “A mix of destruction and mind. They can be tuned to attack or ignore certain people or even certain states of mind. They are the very hardest to craft.”

  “All the glittering pyramids in the hall…They must have taken forever, generations of pyradistés.”

  “Retuned by each monarch’s pyradisté. I’ve tuned them to recognize you.” He touched the row of mind pyramids. “Mind magic is not the hardest pyramid to craft, but is the hardest to master. Simple pyramids can be used to hypnotize; more complicated are used to control.”

  “And they don’t work on pyradistés.”

  “Exactly. Utility you’re well familiar with. That’s our light pyramid, your new best friend, as well as pyramids for detecting other pyramids in use. Utility and mind magic were both…Roland’s specialty.” He shook his head after a moment of silence. “When he left us, he was working on a new pyramid that could hide an active one from prying eyes.”

  “You can create new kinds of pyramids?”

  “Oh yes. I’m good, my dear, but he was better.”

  Starbride blinked. “As king’s pyradisté, aren’t you the best?”

  “I was when I graduated. I haven’t tested myself against any of the academy graduates in years, though. The king can’t replace me on a whim, you know. The Order is supposed to be secret. Now, the last category, something they don’t teach at the academy. Fiend magic.”

  He tapped the pyramids in the last row. “Far to the north, the Fiends lived in glaciers made from ice and pure crystal.” He held a pyramid up to catch the light. “Pyramid crystal. As such, they are both susceptible to pyramid magic and attracted to it. It’s almost part of them. That’s why a pyramid is the only thing that can suppress them once they’ve emerged from inside the Umbriels. It’s also the magic that keeps Yanchasa prisoner, though the Umbriels have to use their Fiends in conjunction with the magic in order to pacify him.”

  Starbride touched one of the pyramid’s smooth sides. “So, if there were ever a Fiendish pyradisté…?”

  He blinked. “That would be… Maybe that was why Roland was so good at the craft. Well, that’s enough history for the moment. Let’s try some practice.”

  He had her stare at the light pyramid again, his soft, even voice leading her into the crystalline sides, the sharp points. The five sides contained the entire world and nothing, all at the same time. When she fell into its depths, she lost track of where the pyramid was, in her palm or in her mind.

  They practiced over and over. Fall into it, light it, bring herself awake, fall into it, light it, bring herself awake… Again and again it went, until he said, “Look at me.” She glanced up. “Light it.”

  The pyramid blazed with light. Starbride gasped and nearly tossed it into the air as she had the first time. “But I didn’t fall into it!”

  “You did. You just weren’t thinking about it.” He took the pyramid, and it went dark as it left her hands but brightened in his. “After you’ve been using them for a time, you won’t have to focus so hard. You can fall into them without thinking, without trying, and without losing your awareness of the outside world. When you hold them, you feel them here.” He tapped his temple. “Try again.”

  Starbride tried to feel it without looking at it, but it stayed dark. Crowe shook his head. “From the beginning. Stare at it. Fall into it…”

  They practiced for hours until Starbride could set the pyramid on the table, reach for it, and light it as soon as her fingers touched it. She lost track of the number of times she did it and paused at last to yawn.

  “I think that’s enough for today,” Crowe said. “Master this and the rest of your education will go much easier. Self-hypnosis is the basis for all pyramid use. We’ll train your mind to sense all pyramids, but it’s something you have to practice. Even then, you’ll have to be close to them, they’ll have to be active, and you won’t know what kind of pyramid it is until it goes off. To sense types from a distance, you’ll need a detection pyramid.” He handed her the light pyramid. “Keep it and practice just before we meet again. That way, we won’t have to do this warm-up.”

  “When will we meet again?”

  “That’s the difficult part. How about this? Practice every day, and then when I send you a note during some of my precious free time, you’ll be ready.”

  Starbride stepped forward and embraced him like she had the first time. “Thank you, Cinnamoncrow. You carry the honor of your caste.” It was the highest compliment she could give to a servant not her own, and it caused him to beam again a
s it had the first time.

  “You’re quite welcome.” He led them to the door, and Dawnmother secured the little pyramid in her basket for the trip back to their room.

  “I’m going to fall into bed and sleep for days,” Starbride said.

  “No princess?”

  “I said fall into bed and sleep.”

  “You must at least send her a note.”

  “You’re a romantic.”

  “I want to avoid another fight. You’ll be happy, Star, if I have anything to say about it.”

  Chapter Twenty-five: Katya

  Katya slumped on a settee in her parents’ private sitting room. She helped her mother sort through a mound of papers, some with swatches of material neatly pinned to them. It was all in aid of decorating for Reinholt’s welcoming ball. Katya rubbed her injured shoulder. The only bright spot of the days following her fight with Starbride had been her shoulder having a chance to heal.

  During the past three days, she could count her time with Starbride in glancing moments, a few hurried kisses, or conversations. Starbride had thrown herself into training with Crowe, and Katya had been too busy wandering the halls or poring over reports from the Order. Now, instead of stealing a few precious snips of time with her beloved or hunting traitors, she was studying fabric.

  “Let’s just make it all blue.” She laid aside an unneeded treatise on why pink pastel curtains would reflect the light through the hall better than green pastel curtains.

  “A little variety is in order. Besides, I know which blue you would choose, and it would be too dark.”

  “Let’s just turn it over to one of the decorators.” She wondered what Starbride was doing at that moment. Anything was better than wading through bunting.

  “Picking one decorator would show too much favoritism.” Ma set another swatch aside, “One decorator would try too hard. The entire ball would look as if it’s taking place inside a brothel.”