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[fan] diviners saga 02 - diviners curse

Page 3

by Nicolette Andrews


  "I've been waiting for you, illusino," a melodic voice called to me.

  I spun around. At first, I thought it was the first diviner, come to taunt me about a future I could not change. This woman was different. She had long, rippling, black hair that hung loose over her shoulders and down to her waist. She had almond eyes and honey-colored skin. She was my age, maybe a few years my senior.

  "Who are you?" I asked.

  She smiled. "Come find me, illusino."

  I woke to the morning light spilling into our chamber. Johai had already risen and left me alone. I sat up and drew my knees close to my chest. It was no ordinary dream. I did not often have prophetic dreams; not since I was a girl and had learned to channel my abilities through the scrying dish. However, since the night King Dallin died, I had not scryed; I refused. Nothing good came from my abilities. I knew that without an escape my powers would continue to invade my dreams as they had done this night. There was a message in the tangled threads that had killed Princess Sarelle, for that is who I knew her to be in the light of day. Princess Sarelle was King Dallin's only daughter and had been a political hostage here in Neaux before her death. What did my dream mean? What was I meant to discover? Who was that woman?

  I washed in the cold water set on a table at my bedside and tied my hair back with a bit of ribbon. I avoided looking into the water's depths, fearful of what I would see there. Sarelle's death was of no concern to me. I pushed the dream to the back of my mind. I picked one of my less travel-worn gowns that I had stolen in Danhad and dressed quickly. I headed down the stairs. Johai and Beau were in conversation as I approached, and I wondered if they continued to plot to send me away. The inn was crowded and noisy as patrons broke their fasts.

  "Good morning, I hope you slept well," Johai said in a flat tone.

  Everything was as it had been, yet my dream set me ill at ease, despite my decision to put it aside. I was in the city in which Princess Sarelle had died. Her death had set much of my path in motion. Had she not died, would I have advised for Sabine's marriage to Adair? Would Adair have killed his uncle the king to prevent losing his throne? Had she not died, would I still be beside Adair as his foolish puppet? I broke a piece of bread in half and applied some preserves and cream to it. Regardless of the consequences, Sarelle's death meant nothing to me, I reminded myself.

  "I slept fair, I suppose," I said before I took a bite of the bread. It tasted of ash in my mouth. I set it down, having lost my appetite.

  "You should eat," Johai said with an indifferent tone, though he watched me with a shrewd gaze.

  I forced a couple more swallows before giving up on the venture.

  Johai reached across the table and put his hand over mine. "Are you feeling ill?"

  I shook my head and said the first thing that came to my mind. I did not want to talk about my vision.

  Johai removed his hand. "I'm going out to look for work. Beau is going to stay here to protect you."

  "What if someone here recognizes me?" I asked. "Shouldn't I stay with you in case we need to depart?" I did not like the idea of staying cooped up in my chamber with my thoughts.

  Johai shook his head. "They will not look here, and the patrons will not recognize you. I put a spell over the inn."

  I widened my eyes. "Why would you do that!" I shouted and stood up to slam my hands on the table. Sound died in the inn as patrons looked in my direction. I had spoken in Danhadine, so they may not have understood my tongue, but they understood the meaning.

  I blushed to my roots and sat back down and bowed my head.

  "What choice do we have? You were spotted; they will be looking for you."

  I bit my lip to keep myself from arguing with him. He's a fool to do this for me. Johai stood up, and the bench he was sitting on scraped across the floor. "I'm heading out."

  I watched him go with guilt and fear coiling in my gut. I pushed my food away, deciding I did not have the stomach to eat after all. I returned to my chamber and sat down heavily on my cot. I heard footsteps on the landing stop outside my door. Beau was playing sentinel.

  I did not like to let my mind wander to my past life, but I did, and I thought of all that we had left behind. Sabine—I wondered if she was well; I worried for her health. And Adair, as much as I despised him, I still found my thoughts drawn to him. What would he do if he found me? Kill me, most likely. He would have no further use for me; I knew his secret and for that he would need to kill me, I was certain. I pushed these troublesome thoughts away.

  I stood up and went to the window, deciding some fresh air would help calm me down. As I opened the shutters, my eyes were drawn to the street below where a statuesque woman was walking. She had long, black hair that she wore unbound. She wore a loose gown, with bare shoulders. It was different than the style I had seen most women wear in Neaux.

  She turned her head towards me, and our eyes met. She smiled at me before turning and walking down an alleyway. My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the place where she had disappeared. She was the woman from my dream.

  My blood thundered in my ears, and I felt an inexplicable draw to find out how she was connected to me. Perhaps she knows how to save Johai. I opened the chamber door, and Beau was outside, leaning against the wall.

  "I need to go out for a little while," I said.

  He gave me a bland expression. "Johai said to stay here."

  "I know, but I dreamed of a woman, and I saw her out on the street. I need to go after her; she may hold the key to saving Johai."

  He did not respond right away but continued to give me a blank stare. "Very well, but only for a moment."

  "Thank you!" I exhaled, and I ran down the hall.

  Outside, the air was cold though it was still late spring. I had grown up at the base of a mountain range and was used to winds blowing from the mountains, but the cold in Neaux seemed deeper, more chilling to the bone. I almost missed the sweltering summers in Keisan.

  Beau stayed close to me, and I made sure to keep my hood pulled forward as to not be recognized. We were approaching the intersection of streets where I had seen the woman. On the corner a tall, clean-cut building with colonnades and a shuttered façade, which was common with Neaux architecture, caught my eye. Double doors facing out onto the street were closed tight. A sign swung from iron filigree above the doors with the words 'The Dancing Stallion Theatre' and a crimson horse rearing painted beneath.

  A sign on the door read:

  Show times:

  7 pm nightly

  Services to the rear entrance

  "She went down this alleyway. Maybe she's inside the theatre," I related to Beau.

  He nodded and followed me down an alleyway. As I suspected, the alley ended at a brick wall, and on the left hand side, a simple wooden door with a bell hanging from an ironwork arm awaited us. There was no posted sign, but I assumed we were expected to ring the bell.

  I pulled the cord, and a tinkling sound reverberated off the plaster walls. I waited anxiously for an answer and was preparing to ring again when a young man with white face paint and rouge on his cheeks answered the door.

  "Yes?" he asked. He glanced at us with narrowed eyes and his arms crossed over his chest. He was of narrow build with long arms and legs and a long face.

  "I—" I faltered; his appearance had disarmed me.

  "We are looking for work, sir," Beau lied for me.

  He eyed me up and down and then looked at Beau. "Is he your husband?"

  I flushed and was preparing to say 'no' when a voice called out from within. "Who is it, Philippe?"

  A chill ran up my spine. It was the same voice from my dream. He turned his head around to answer the unseen speaker. "A couple of foreigners looking for work," he shouted back.

  "Send them in." The melodious cadence of the woman's voice was entrancing.

  He stepped aside and let us in with a haughty sniff.

  He led us down a corridor and into an amphitheater. There was no ceiling, and it opened up
onto the sky. The floor itself was dirt, but the upper levels had bench seating. The woman walked across the stage. She wore a garland of flowers on her head and a white gown.

  She turned to face us, and when our eyes met, the woman's widened. She smoothed it over quickly with a smile. "Ah, how can I help you?" She took a few steps down from the stage, and she seemed to float as she did so.

  I felt as if each word she spoke echoed through me and pierced me to my core. She was more beautiful in person, with smooth skin and a sheen to her hair that would be the envy of any noble-born woman. She was much taller than me by perhaps a half a foot.

  "Yes, my lady." I swallowed hard. She came and stood beside me, and I could smell an earthy scent, like herbs, clinging to her clothes. I had to look up to meet her gaze. Looking into her dark brown eyes, I felt a wave of panic. What if this is a coincidence and she thinks I am mad telling her that I dreamed of her. I may have been too impulsive coming here without a plan. "I am looking for work. I am able to clean or sew; whatever is needed," I said, corroborating Beau's lie.

  She grabbed my hands without asking and turned them over. "You do not have the hands of a laborer."

  I blushed, fearing I had been caught. "No, my lady, I am a merchant's wife trapped in the city after bandits took our cargo, we—that is my husband and I—are looking for work for the time being until we can buy more merchandise and head back to Jerauch." Our fabrication fell from my lips. When had lying become so easy?

  "Are you now?" She smiled, and I suspected she knew more than she was letting on. Then I was not too hasty.

  "Philippe, will you give us a moment?" she said to the man.

  He folded his arms over his chest, and I thought he would protest, but he stomped away, cursing in Neaux the entire way.

  She motioned to a bench nearby. "Please sit."

  I did so, but my limbs trembled all the while. She sat on the bench opposite me, and Beau took a defensive stance at my shoulder. The woman regarded me for a moment, and I felt as if she were looking right through me. I wrapped my arms around myself and rubbed my upper arms.

  "You are a diviner, yes?" the woman asked in Danhadine.

  I was startled by the abrupt change to my mother tongue and could not respond immediately. "I—Yes, I dreamed of you. You said you were waiting for me." I looked away; it sounded ridiculous out loud.

  "My people have long prophesized the coming of the next dreau."

  She speaks in riddles; perhaps she is hiding something. "Your people, the Biski, you mean?" I said, guessing at her heritage. "May I ask, what is a dreau?"

  She upturned her wrist, revealing a tattoo, a triangle overlaid with a swirling pattern of interlocking circles, four in all, uncannily similar to the one the du-toath had on his inner wrist. I inhaled sharply upon making the connection.

  "You are correct. My name is Elenna, daughter of Tilowa, who is head priestess to the Clan of the Horse," she said as she turned her wrist away. "And you are a dreau, a reader of dreams, seer of future, and the champion of the darkness."

  "You are a du-toath?" I stated, and excitement coursed through my veins. Champion of darkness, could it mean she knew of the specter? Maybe this woman held the answers I needed. I knew little about the du-toath other than their ability to control wild magic.

  "In a way I am. I ran away before taking my vows."

  My shoulders sagged. Perhaps I am hoping for too much? "And you became a player?" I asked.

  "It was this or the brothel. There are few options for a woman without a husband in this city." She smiled. "But I doubt your dreams led you to me because you wanted to know more about me."

  "You're right. I came here because I hope you may know about a specter that has possessed my friend."

  She regarded me for a moment before standing and turning away from me. "I do not know anything about spirits, I'm sorry." Her voice lost its melodic cadence, and I detected something close to fear there. "I'm sorry I could not be of more help to you."

  "Elenna, a Danhadine man is here. I think he wants to hire the troupe for a fete, but I cannot understand him clearly. Can you speak with him?"

  "I will be there in a moment. Show him to the receiving room, and I shall join him shortly."

  The man waved a hand at Elenna and disappeared back out the door.

  She turned to me once more and said, "I apologize, if you have nothing else that I may help with?" She brushed past me without waiting for an answer.

  We exited the way we had come after Beau had checked to make sure no one was around. We saw no sign of the Danhadine man that had requested a troupe, but we did see his carriage out front. It was a handsome conveyance inlaid with silver trim and had a blue sigil on the door, and when I saw the silver tree emblazoned there, my heart stopped. I stood in the street, staring at it for a moment without moving. Beau grabbed me by the shoulders and saved me from being run over by a vegetable cart that was barreling down the street. The farmer atop it shouted at me in Neaux, but I paid him little heed.

  Could a member of the Danhadine royal family be here, this far from home? Had Adair followed me out here?

  "That is the ambassador's carriage," Beau said. "See the sigil beneath the tree?" He pointed to a shield on the lower corner of the door.

  "Of course." I sighed in relief, and then I noted the banner-men—below the sigil of House Raleban, there was a secondary banner. Six purple stars on a gray field: House Sixton.

  Without thinking, I hurried back down the alley in the opposite direction and back to the door of the playhouse. Before I knew it, I was ringing the bell. The man, Philippe, returned.

  "What is it, woman?" he asked with an annoyed expression.

  "Your Danhadine guest, who is he?"

  He shrugged. "A Danhadine man, fair skin, dark hair, same as most. Why?" He eyed me suspiciously.

  That could be anyone, I thought, but most likely not Jon Sixton. He had a strong Neaux complexion, olive skin and dark hair, and I assumed he spoke Neaux, given that he was of Neaux birth—or so I had always assumed. Therefore, Elenna wouldn't be needed to translate an agreement. I stood on the step, chewing my lip as I thought. It all came together. Jon must be here in the city as Adair's ambassador. Despite my resolve to keep myself out of these matters, I was intrigued. It was too coincidental that he had been in my dreams and now I saw signs of him everywhere. Elenna was hiding something, and Jon had not tried to capture me, though he had the chance. None of it added up.

  Beau touched my shoulder and pulled me from my thoughts. "Time to go."

  I nodded my head and followed after him. I stopped at the end of the alley and glanced back at the ambassador's carriage. Whatever Jon was after here in Sanore, it was no concern of mine. I was best to leave it alone and flee the city at the first opportunity. If only I had heeded my own advice.

  Chapter Three

  JOHAI RETURNED LATE in the evening, by which time I had been once more absconded in our chamber. I opened my eyes long enough to see him climb into bed and go to sleep without a word. I assumed the worst and that he had not found work. I decided to not press him and instead let him sleep. I, however, lay awake long after that, wondering about Jon's reasons for being in Neaux. As much as I told myself it did not concern me, I could not discount it either. I doubted it was coincidence that brought me to the playhouse at the same time as his servant. We had not seen any Danhadine soldiers around the city, and I almost felt like I could relax, but not quite. Something was wrong here in Sanore, and I felt it like an itch that could not be reached.

  The next morning, I came into the dining room bleary eyed. I had slept little, my worries kept me up half the night. Johai had risen and gone down to break his fast during the short period of rest I had managed to get. I slid into a spot across from him.

  The innkeeper's wife came around with porridge with honey drizzled on it. I thanked her with a small smile, and she walked away to tend to the other guests. Johai and I ate in amiable silence for a time. He hasn't mentioned his s
earch for work; it must not have been successful. I waited a bit longer before I could no longer stand the suspense.

  "Did you find employment yesterday?" I asked in what I hoped was a casual tone.

  "Mmm," Johai replied, and I was not certain if it was an affirmative or negative. His head was bent over a tome with peeling bindings and faded yellow pages.

  I tried to read the words upside down, but it was in a language I was not familiar with. A distant memory tugged at the back of my brain. I remembered as a girl looking over Johai's shoulder and trying to decipher his notes and peer at his work. He often worked with languages that I did not know or else he covered it up to keep me from seeing what he was doing. He did not do that now. He saw me looking and turned the book around for me to see.

  "An archaic Jerauchian tome, it has information on spirit-possessions and the commingling of souls," Johai said.

  I touched the yellowed pages. They were brittle and smelled of age. An image near the bottom of the page depicted a man with a shadow looming over his shoulder.

  "I have seen this before, in Danhad. The priest of Mrawa had something like this hanging about him." I pointed at the picture.

  Johai turned the book at an angle so he could see it across the table. As he did so, his hand brushed mine. On impulse, I withdrew. He glanced at me for a moment, and it was the only indication that he had noticed.

  "Interesting, perhaps he was similarly afflicted?" he mused aloud.

  "I know for certain that he was," I replied. "He warned me that I would be at the center of a war between gods. Do you think he means the specter?" I asked. I had forgotten until then. Maybe we should head for Jerauch next.

  "It is possible," Johai said as he scratched his chin in thought. Stubble had begun to grow, and unlike his hair, it was golden blond like ripe wheat. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and it seemed he had aged since we had left Keisan.

 

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