by Ian Irvine
Now, though still exhausted, she was wide awake. She had hurt Lyf with the iron book but he would attack again, and he knew her weaknesses now. He knew she had little control over her magery, knew where she had gone and probably where she was now. He would try again for the pearl, and it would not be long.
Her mother’s killers would not have given up, either. Had Rix completed the cellar painting and discovered who they were? He was not here to ask, and neither was the sketch.
With every passing minute the killers must be drawing closer, eliminating possibilities and following clues to track her down. Lady Ricinus would be doing the same. She would be desperate now, with the Honouring and the deadline of the chancellor’s ultimatum only hours away …
Rap-rap. It was the front door.
Tobry raced in. ‘Stay under the bed, that’s Lady Ricinus.’
Tali crouched there, fingering her knife. If discovered, she would be caught and sold back to the chancellor. She could think no further than that.
‘Where is Rixium?’ came Lady Ricinus’s chilly voice as her heels clicked along the hall. ‘It’s five-thirty. He should be dressing for the Honouring.’
Tali started. She must have slept all day.
‘I don’t know, Lady Ricinus,’ said Tobry politely. ‘He wasn’t here when I returned in the early hours.’
Lady Ricinus gave a disapproving sniff.
Tobry must have felt a mischievous urge for he said, ‘Perhaps he’s run off to a monastery.’
‘He will be there,’ said Lady Ricinus in a voice so cold it made Tali’s teeth ache.
Lady Ricinus’s breathing was quick and shallow; a musky perfume wafted off her. Her heels tap-tapped through the salon and scalderium, then up to the studio and down again. Rix’s door was flung open, then Tobry’s. Tali clenched the knife, though she could hardly use it on Rix’s mother, could she? Oh yes.
‘When my son returns, tell him I require audience with him immediately.’
‘I will so inform him,’ said Tobry virtuously.
Lady Ricinus swept out. Tobry bolted the door. Tali crept from beneath the bed and followed him into Rix’s bedchamber, where he began rifling through an enormous wardrobe. ‘What time is the Honouring?’
‘The ball is at eight o’clock and the Honouring will be straight afterwards. I’m sure he’ll be back any minute.’
‘Are you going to the ball?’
‘Of course,’ said Tobry, picking out a crimson velvet tailcoat and holding it up against himself. ‘As Rix’s closest friend, I’m required to be there.’
There had been no dancing in Cython, save in the privacy of one’s cell. ‘I suppose it will be a very grand affair,’ she said, sighing.
‘The grandest of the year. House Ricinus isn’t well liked, but it’s so exceedingly rich that none of the nobility, nor indeed Hightspall’s vulgarly wealthy commoners, would think of missing it.’
‘It doesn’t seem right, with all the war and ruin outside.’
‘It’s a sign of defiance, and therefore good for morale.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘The enemy may break our walls and burn our shanty towns, they may have taken the outlying provinces and be marching on Caulderon again, but they will never crush our spirit. That’s what the Honouring says, to our own people as much as to the enemy, and it’s why even I want it to go ahead. Where the blazes is Rix?’
‘I’m sure he’ll be there.’
‘I’m worried now. He … wasn’t in a good state when I saw him yesterday evening.’
‘You didn’t tell me that.’
‘It’s … a private matter. Dreadful.’ Tobry looked away. ‘He was so distraught …’
‘You’re afraid he’s done something terrible. Is it — ’ There was no one around but she lowered her voice. ‘Is it about the treason?’
‘How did you know about that?’
Tali told him everything.
‘And you informed the chancellor of this?’
‘Before I went to the Crag.’
‘The bastard! He set a trap and Rix fell right into it.’ Tobry told her about the poisoned dog, and what the chancellor had said to Rix.
‘The worst poison of all,’ said Tali. What did that remind her of? The clues were starting to fall into place, and everyone would be at the Honouring. She had to go.
She glanced at Tobry from under her eyelashes. ‘I’d love to see it,’ she said wistfully. ‘The beautiful ladies in the gowns, the handsome noblemen in their uniforms …’
‘Not to mention the unhandsome fallen nobility.’ Tobry pointed out. ‘But the guests will also be there for a baser reason.’
‘What’s that?’
‘To be witness when House Ricinus rises even higher or, should rumour prove well founded, to delight in its destruction.’
Tali limped into the scalderium, absently studying herself in the full-length mirror. She took a deep breath, fluffed up her hair and walked back to Tobry, who was inside Rix’s wardrobe now, frowning at a collection of kilts.
‘Tobry?’ she said, fighting an urge to chew her fingernails. No, she was Lady Tali, heir to the ancient, noble House of vi Torgrist. She would act like a lady at all times.
‘Mmn?’ he said absently.
‘Are you taking anyone to the ball?’
‘Certainly not. Why be tied to one dreary woman when you can have the choice of dozens?’
He had not intended to insult her. He had no idea what she was thinking, yet she felt insulted. However, Tali could not be cowed that easily.
‘Do you think I am dreary, sir?’ she said, practising the coldness she had heard in Lady Ricinus’s voice.
He turned sharply. ‘Of course not. You’re the loveliest — ’ Tobry studied her, head to one side. ‘What are you saying?’
She twisted her fingers behind her back. It was up to the man to ask, wasn’t it, and the lady to be asked. What if he said no? What if he laughed? What if he was so thunderstruck that he could not reply?
‘Will you take me to the ball, sir?’ There. She had done it.
He did not speak for a minute. He just gazed at her in a way that made her blood rise and her ears burn.
‘It’s a terrible risk,’ he said.
‘Worse than hiding here? Wherever I go in Hightspall, I’m hunted, but who would expect me to be at the grandest ball in all the land?’
‘Your enemies will consider all possibilities.’
‘If I am to be caught, to fail in my quest and die, just once I would like to go to a ball.’
She looked at him so wistfully that he sprang forwards and gave her a hug, before stepping away, bowing and looking more than a little surprised at himself.
‘I will take you to the ball, my beautiful Lady vi Torgrist.’ He pursed his lips, then smiled. ‘You shall be a distant cousin of mine, Lady Felysse Tybell, from the remote, cold and rainy county of Murge. That will explain your pale complexion and unfamiliar accent, while make-up applied by my own skilled hands, and a mask, will further conceal you.’
At the right-hand end of the wardrobe, among a series of gowns, were several in her size. She picked out a pale blue, gauzy one that reminded her of Eulala’s gown and held it up before her. It was almost weightless and she knew she would feel free in it. In a loincloth she had always felt free, slave though she had been. ‘Can I wear this?’
‘Only if you wish to attract every eye in the ballroom and provoke the most delicious scandal.’
‘What’s wrong with it? Does it plunge too low at the front?’
‘Not at all,’ said Tobry, inspecting the area. ‘Bosoms are in this year, by which I mean, half out. It is not the custom, however, for the rest of a lady’s anatomy to be visible through the fabric, no matter how charming her figure may be.’ He rotated her as if to confirm her charms for himself. ‘I’ll go out and find something suitable, but not sleeveless. Your slave mark must be concealed. Hmn.’
‘I don’t want you to go to any trouble �
��’ Yes, she did.
‘My Lady Felysse, I shall go to as much trouble as I please,’ said Tobry with a gallant bow. ‘And a mask, of course. What would you prefer? Fox, cat, eagle, owl?’
‘What about a mouse mask?’ said Tali, thinking of her poor little Poon, taken by that dreadful cat in the moment of its freedom. Mice were clever at hiding and not being noticed. They also had sharp teeth.
‘A mouse it is.’ He went out.
Two-and-a-half hours later Tali was standing by Tobry, clutching his arm, among the gaudy throng outside the ballroom door. The sapphire gown he had found for her was pretty and suited her complexion, but it was heavy and confining and she was already beginning to perspire. The elastic of her mouse mask was cutting into her ears.
‘Lady Felysse?’ said Tobry in a low, amused voice.
It took a moment before she realised that he was talking to her. ‘Yes, my lord?’
‘You’re crushing my poor wrist bones to splinters.’
She unclenched her hand. ‘Sorry. Is there any sign of Rix?’
‘No, and I’m really worried. It’s not like him. It’ll be a mortal insult if he fails to appear for his father’s Honouring and the portrait’s unveiling.’ He put her hand on his arm in the correct position.
The huge double doors were opened and the couples began to enter the ballroom, their names being announced as they did. Tali could hardly breathe. Her figure required no corset, but the gown was so tight under the bust that it was an effort to breathe.
‘You’re clenching again,’ muttered Tobry. ‘Relax.’
‘I’m scared. What if Lady Ricinus recognises me when we’re introduced?’
‘She’s never seen you before. Besides, she’s not going to take a second look at any girl on my arm.’
‘Why not?’ she said, bristling for him.
‘I have no land, no family, no money and no prospects. The House of Lagger was utterly disgraced before it fell, and I’m only here because Rix insisted on it.’
His words did not alleviate her anxiety. ‘What if she talks to me?’
‘Blush prettily and look confused. An air of charming vacantness goes a long way in such situations.’
‘How would you know?’
The line moved forwards. Lord and Lady Ricinus were just ahead. Tali realised she was clenching Tobry’s arm again and consciously relaxed. She allowed her jaw to go slack, her red-tinted lower lip to droop like Lifka’s. Now, that was a look she could emulate.
‘Charming vacantness, not doltish stupidity, Lady Felysse,’ murmured Tobry.
She corrected, and just in time. They were being announced.
‘Lord Tobry Lagger of House — er, Lord Tobry,’ said the announcer, ‘and his second cousin, Lady Felysse Tybell of Murge.’
Lord Ricinus, who was immaculately dressed but swaying like a sailboat in a heavy sea, took Tali’s hand. His hand was oozing sweat and had a revolting, pulpy feel. She released it and turned to Lady Ricinus.
Lady Ricinus extended two gloved fingers and said in a bored voice, without looking at her, ‘Charmed.’
Tali bowed and they passed on.
‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ said Tobry. ‘Now, some of the gavottes are particularly tricky and you don’t want to attract attention to yourself. I should have asked this before, but — which are your best dances?’
Tali fell from a great height. ‘I’ve never danced in my life.’
CHAPTER 90
Rix groaned, opened gummy eyes and saw nothing. Had he gone blind? Was he dead? His head felt as though an axe was embedded in it, his mouth was dry as a vulture’s armpit and the fur on his tongue had fur on it.
He rolled over and cried out. There was a lump on the back of his head the size of a half melon. He groped around him, felt a stone wall and pulled himself up on it, and saw the familiar outline of the palace roof beyond. What was he doing at the top of his tower? He hadn’t been up here in months. An icy wind whistled in between the low perimeter wall and the spiralling roof. It was a wonder he hadn’t frozen to death.
His mouth tasted of wine gone sour and stale vomit. He must have been royally drunk last night, though he could not remember anything after Lady Ricinus had left. Rix smelled painter’s oil on his hands and a glimmer of memory came back.
He’d been painting the murder scene in the cellar; painting and drinking.
So drunk he could barely focus on the canvas.
The staring, haunted girl.
The young woman’s head torn open.
The bloody ebony pearl …
Rix groaned. His head was bursting with the effort to remember.
Then another glimmer: two faces, finally emerging from his frozen memories, the killers on the canvas.
Lord and Lady Ricinus.
‘Why, why?’ he cried, but the howling wind drowned him out.
Rix was pounding his fists against a column when he remembered one final fragment. Utterly dishonoured and with no way out, he had staggered up here to throw himself off his tower. Evidently he had fallen and knocked himself out. He couldn’t even kill himself successfully.
It must have been many hours ago, otherwise his mouth would not be so dry. But why was it still dark? Had he lain unconscious all day? No wonder his tongue was like a leather strap hung over a fence. He was lucky to be alive.
Lucky to be the son of vicious killers?
Lucky to have betrayed his own mother for high treason? He remembered that.
Judging by the stars, it was around ten o’clock. The Honouring Ball would be nearly over. He had promised to be there, and he was not. He had broken his word, shamed his father and humiliated his mother. And, oddly, their crimes could not excuse his own behaviour. If a man’s word was not sacred, what kind of a man was he?
He must attend the Honouring. He would perform that last duty for his parents. And then? What came first, duty to them or obedience to the law? Was he supposed to turn them in for murder? That would, unquestionably, destroy House Ricinus. Did his duty to House and family outweigh the victim’s need for justice?
He did not know, but one thing was very clear. If he turned them in it would destroy him too, because he would know in the chambers of his heart that he had betrayed those whom he had vowed to honour.
Rix stumbled down to his studio. The cellar painting was gone. Tobry must have put it away and Rix thanked the Gods for that. He could not bear to look at it.
He smiled grimly as he put on the ceremonial garments Lady Ricinus’s maid had laid out for him, adjusted the angle of the lapis cravat and his scarlet, plumed hat, and wiped a speck of dust from his gleaming boots. After buckling on the titane sword, he checked himself in the scalderium mirror. He would perform this final service, put on this final show, as best the heir of House Ricinus could.
Not even Lady Ricinus could fault his presentation this time. Even if she had brought the chancellor down, Rix would see his unworthy father honoured, then walk away. Let House Ricinus rise, or all come crashing down behind him. He would never look back. He would go to the front lines and die there, defending his country and trying to assuage his blighted honour the only way he knew.
The halls were empty — every servant in the palace would be called to witness the Honouring. Outside, people were still partying in the streets. Fireworks climbed the sky near the city gates, though the celebrations rang falsely in his mind. If they thought the enemy had gone, they were as deluded as the priestesses who gathered on the sacred mountain and commanded the ice to withdraw from Hightspall, the magians who tried to melt ten thousand cubic miles of icecap with their pathetic spells.
And always, always in the back of his mind, was the unanswerable question — why had the ten-year-old Rix been there when Tali’s mother had been murdered?
He thrust open the doors of the Great Hall so hard that they slammed back against the wall to either side. He was not going to sneak into this hypocritical ceremony. The ball was over and the dance floor crowded with people, a
ll looking up at the stage where the dignitaries were taking their places for Lord Ricinus’s Honouring.
Rix’s heart missed three or four beats before restarting with a lurch. The chancellor sat centre stage, smiling. Had Lady Ricinus’s plot failed, or were her assassins waiting for the end? Or would the executioners be the chancellor’s? Rix faltered.
The high constable took his place on the chancellor’s right, the lady justiciar to his left. The chief magian was there too, and Abbess Hildy. All the mighty of Hightspall were in attendance. Had they come to witness the rise of House Ricinus, or to gloat in its fall?
He reached the edge of the stage unnoticed. Rix’s head was throbbing and he felt a dire urge to scream at his parents, Why did you murder Tali’s mother?
The preliminaries must be going well; even Lady Ricinus was smiling. How could that be? The chancellor had threatened House Ricinus with ruin if she did not hand Tali over. Did Lady Ricinus’s smile mean that she had taken Tali and was ready to deliver her? Or, after events at the Crag, did the chancellor no longer care?
Abbess Hildy, a plump, soft-faced woman of indeterminate age, lumbered to her feet. ‘Lord Chancellor, Lady Justiciar, High Constable, Chief Magian, Dignitaries, ladies and lords, welcome to this Honouring.’
She paused to catch her breath.
‘Much has been written about the House of Ricinus, and much has been said. That they were thieves and brigands who made their gold in dirty trades.’
Someone in the audience tittered, and Lady Ricinus looked uneasy. Was this a set-up to lull House Ricinus into false hope, then bring it crashing down? The chancellor’s ironic smile suggested he had such a plan in mind.
Hildy continued, in a sneering tone. ‘That they were upstarts who bribed their way to the top. Scoundrels unworthy to sit among the noble houses of Hightspall, or to occupy this, the most magnificent palace in Caulderon, which was first built by the greatest of the Five Herovians, Axil Grandys himself, not long before his mysterious disappearance.
‘I too looked down on the upstarts. I knew that, generous though they were to all manner of causes, House Ricinus was beneath contempt. And I told the chancellor so, that he might find a way to topple this unworthy house.’