A look of surprise crossed his face. Nica flinched as he reached a hand toward her, but she stood her ground. As if sensing her fear, he slowed his movement and used a finger to gently move a long strand of hair back behind her shoulder. “Yani ‘sa. And may they smile upon you as well.”
Nica nodded and took a deep breath to ease the sudden pressure in her chest.
“Here you are.”
Nica jumped at the sound of Jaaniyah’s voice. Shanks stepped away and grinned over his shoulder at the princess.
“There you are. I’ve been waiting for you. Are you ready to meet with Heathron?”
An odd sinking twisted in the pit of Nica’s stomach as she stood there in her borrowed gown and bare feet. She had an overwhelming urge to run and hide—not only from the cool appraisal of the haughty girl who Shanks had identified as her sister, but also from the realization that she’d allowed herself to imagine Jonn Shanks was someone she might trust. He worked for Jarisa, not Sartis. He swore his allegiance to Jaaniyah, not her. She was nothing but a pawn to him.
“Yes, I’m ready.” Jaaniyah held out her arm for Shanks to take.
He gave Nica a short bow, then turned his back on her and led Jaaniyah from the room.
hree days had passed since Shanks’ departure. One day folded into another until Nica thought she would burst from the sheer boredom of staying hidden in Jaaniyah’s rooms. Though more comfortable, it wasn’t much different than being locked in a jail cell and she longed to explore and understand this kingdom of Jarisa. Though her sister was cordial and curious, she was also restrained and clearly unwilling to trust her yet.
Nica stood at the window and stared through the diamond panes to the courtyard below, listening to the muted voices and the tapping of soldier’s boots on the flagstones. Her own curiosity was mitigated by the tension in the air, as everyone feared an attack from Mosaba was imminent.
She shuddered to think what they would do if they knew she was hidden within the walls of the palace. The view out the window gave her an eerie sense of déjà vu, remembering the day not so long ago when she had stood at the window in the Grand Library and listened to the cacophony of noise from the street in Sartis. A pang filled her chest as she thought of the plans she and Toppen had made. Everything had gone so drastically wrong.
Though Jaaniyah brought food several times a day, she kept a wary distance. It was almost as though she suspected Nica of being a spy for Mosaba. She hadn’t offered an alternative to their sleeping arrangements so Nica continued to sleep on the couch. She did, at least, have a blanket and a pillow.
Their longest conversations were usually at night when the torches were dimmed and they could barely see each other through the shadows in the room. It was easier to talk without being reminded of their surreal connection.
Their conversations during the day, however, were stilted and uncomfortable, unable to move past the long-held animosity between their countries. They had talked only a little of how they’d grown up but Nica’s questions had dwindled after a while, as it became clear that Jaaniyah was unwilling to reveal much personal information. At the same time, Nica was unwilling to admit Mosaba’s cruelty, unwilling to relive his torture even in her mind. It was like trying to balance on eggs when she was around Jaaniyah.
“HAVE YOU ANY word of your father? How is he doing?” Nica asked as the afternoon waned on the fourth day since Shanks’ departure.
Jaaniyah sat on the bed, reading, seemly oblivious to Nica’s presence. Her eyes narrowed as she responded to Nica’s question. It was as though she held her sister personally responsible for Mosaba’s attack upon her father.
“He’s still alive,” Jaaniyah said. “That’s all I know.”
“Well, that’s good. One day closer to coming home, then.” Nica smiled but Jaaniyah had already turned away. Nica bit back a sigh and sat down next to the window she couldn’t even open for fear of being seen. “When do you suppose Shanks will return?”
“He didn’t say. Why does it matter?” Jaaniyah’s voice was cool as she peered at Nica over the edge of her book.
“I just wondered if he knew when I might get out of this room. I don’t think I can stand being stuck in here for much longer.”
Jaaniyah’s grey eyes didn’t waver as she stared at Nica. “And where would you go?”
Nica took a deep breath and tried to ignore her rising temper. “Wherever I please, I suppose. I’m free to go where I choose, you know.”
“Not in Jarisa, you’re not,” Jaaniyah retorted. “If people knew who you were, they would string you up.”
“Oh, is that so?” Nica got to her feet, her hands clenched at her sides. “I’ve heard tales about what barbarians the Jarisans are. You’ve just confirmed my suspicions.”
“You eat my food, wear my clothes and sleep in my room and you dare to criticize my country?” Jaaniyah’s voice rose to a shout as she slid off the bed and stormed toward Nica. “I could have you cast out and then that madman you call your father could hunt you down like he did my father and …..”
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” A deep voice thundered, interrupting Jaaniyah’s tirade.
Startled, both girls jerked around to face Becknah, who stood in the doorway to Jaaniyah’s bedchamber.
Nica’s heart raced in fear. They were found out.
Her eyes skimmed over the old man who stood staring at them with his mouth open. His long crimson robe was rich and beautiful, sparkling with gold threads. Nica could see his eyes dart back and forth between the two of them, while his mouth opened and closed several times reminding Nica of a fish in need of water.
“Jaaniyah?” His gaze moved from one girl to the other and back again, unsure.
“Yes, Becknah, of course, I’m Jaaniyah.” Jaaniyah stepped forward. “And this—” she turned and held her hand out— “is Nica.” She hurried behind the older man and shut the door to the bedchamber.
“Nica?” The old man’s eyes behind his crescent shaped glasses looked her up and down in one sweep. “Nica who?”
“Please, come sit by the window and we’ll explain.” Jaaniyah slid her hand under Becknah’s elbow and pulled him away from Nica. “Jonn Shanks brought her.”
The silence within the room was deafening.
“But it can’t be,” the old man whispered.
Nica stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. Her instincts told her to run, but there was no place to run to. So instead, she balled her fists as she stared at Becknah in perverse fascination to await his reaction. She would fight if he tried to hurt her.
“Juneedika?” He whispered the name, swiveling his head from Nica to Jaaniyah.
Nica froze.
“Yes, well, it appears that it might be possible,” Jaaniyah responded, tugging on the man’s arm to get him to sit.
“What did you say?” Nica took a step closer.
“Are you Juneedika, lass?” The man shook off Jaaniyah’s hand and moved toward Nica, his brow furrowed in thought.
A chill ran up Nica’s arms. Juneedika was the name King Jacoby had uttered when he’d spied her the day they’d brought him as a prisoner to the castle. At the time she’d thought it was a prayer for mercy but now….
“Who is Juneedika?” Nica asked.
“My sister’s name was Juneedika,” Jaaniyah said in a low voice.
A jittery feeling pulled Nica’s heart into her stomach. King Jacoby hadn’t been praying that afternoon. He had recognized her—he had recognized his own daughter.
“You are Jaaniyah’s twin,” Becknah said. He reached out both hands as though to embrace her face, but didn’t touch her. “You are Juneedika.” His voice was filled with wonder as a smile lit his face. “This changes everything.”
THEY SAT TOGETHER in the alcove, the last rays of afternoon light pouring through the windows. “Where have you been? You had no knowledge of your true heritage? What of your mother?” He asked all the same questions that Jaaniyah had asked. “Obviously you understan
d Jarisan?”
Nica nodded.
“And how have you come to be in Jarisa?” Becknah leaned forward to listen to her answer.
Nica began to explain how she and Toppen had left Sartis at night intending to head to Pont d’Suree. “We were stopped while still in Sartis and asked to carry…” she hesitated, “a… package over the border.” She shrugged. “Then we were arrested and I was brought here.”
“Stopped?” Becknah looked to Jaaniyah with a confused expression. “By whom?”
“It was Jonn,” Jaaniyah said. “Apparently he met Nica while in Sartis and recognized her.”
“Ah, young Jonn Shanks.” Becknah nodded and sat back in his chair, gazing through the window. “Now, it’s beginning to make more sense. And the ‘package’ you spoke of? Was that our King?” He peered at her over his glasses.
Nica nodded.
“Yes, of course it was. And you, my dear, are a hero. Saving your own father’s life after all these years. It’s the stuff of….” he paused. “Hmmm, I wonder.” His fingers drummed the arm of the chair as he became lost in thought. “How very fascinating. Could it possibly make sense of...” his voice died off.
“Make sense of what?” Jaaniyah asked with a tinge of irritation. “What are you talking about?”
“The Avedla quatrains, of course.” Becknah’s eyes glowed with excitement. “I’ve studied the text of Getheas for most of my adult life. I’ve memorized many of the verses.” He began to recite:
“The absent one shall reappear
Amid a war that all have feared
A devious plan, the tables are turned
The gift of life given, shall be returned”
“Don’t you see?” A smile creased the wrinkles on his face. “‘The absent one shall reappear—’ the quatrain clearly speaks of Juneedika’s return. ‘Amid a war,’” he turned from one to the other, “obviously the conflict between Jarisa and Sartis. ‘A devious plan—’ there is no better description of Mosaba’s ambush.”
“You can’t be seri—” Jaaniyah started.
Becknah raised a finger, “but ‘the tables are turned,’ speaks of your father’s escape and finally—” he spread his arms wide, the long sleeves of his robe, sweeping the air— “‘the gift of life given, shall be returned’.” He held his hands out to Nica. “Juneedika’s part in saving her own father’s life.” Becknah clapped his hands together in delight. “Written over three hundred years before the events actually occurred. Quite amazing.”
“Do you really think that has to do with her?” Jaaniyah asked.
Becknah rubbed his hands together, lost in thought. “It’s brilliant—so obvious, now that we know Juneedika is alive.” He pushed himself out of the chair and began to pace. His robes swept behind him, back and forth across the room. “Give me a moment, I’ve read something recently…” he held a gnarled finger up— “just need a moment to think.”
Nica watched the old man pace back and forth, mumbling to himself. She was afraid to interrupt. What in the name of the Ancients was he talking about? At least he didn’t seem to be angry with her.
“I have it!” he cried out, snapping his fingers.
“A war continues, destined to repeat
Until two daughters royal born do meet
The time has come to reveal the past
That which is hidden, can be found at last”
Becknah stopped in front of Nica, his excitement tangible. “‘Until two daughters royal born do meet.’ It has to be the two of you.” He turned to Jaaniyah. “That lie we made up to trap Tarantu?”
“Yes?”
“It has become the truth. I believe now is the time to seek the Getheas Stone.
ay we read the quatrains?” Jaaniyah’s words were hesitant.
Becknah had resumed pacing. “Of course, of course. We must all re-examine the messages which have been left.” He glanced at Nica. “And what of you, my dear, how long have you been hiding here in Jaaniyah’s rooms?”
Nica shrugged, self-conscious at his renewed perusal. “A day or two.”
“We can’t announce your presence until Jacoby has returned, so you must remain hidden for a few more days.” Becknah moved from one side of the room to the other but his gaze kept returning to Nica. “It’s amazing how much the two of you look alike,” he muttered. Finally he came to a stop in front of Nica. “You must be curious to see the palace, the grounds—your new home.” He raised ringed fingers to his chin, stroking his long grey beard. “Juneedika, certainly you could feign a sore throat, yes? That would give you an excuse for not speaking while I gave you a tour.”
“Yes, I’d love too.” Nica jumped to her feet before Jaaniyah could discourage the idea.
The old man turned to the princess. “Jaaniyah, I’m sure you would be gracious enough to remain hidden in your rooms for a small bit of time to allow Juneedika a chance for some fresh air?”
Jaaniyah’s lips pinched together as she grudgingly nodded.
Becknah clapped his hands together, a pleased expression creasing his face. “Shall we go now, then?”
Nica gave the older man a hesitant smile. “Yes, please.” She followed him out the door without looking back.
BECKNAH LEANED CLOSE as they left Jaaniyah’s chambers, so the guard still stationed outside the doors couldn’t hear his words. “If others are near, I will appear to be discussing our military situation or other matters with you. Just look around and nod. You can ask me questions later. I want to take you by my study and show you the books. I’m quite curious to see if there are any symbols or languages there that you might recognize from your time in Sartis.”
Nica took a deep breath, relieved to be out of that room. “What books are those?”
He crooked an eyebrow at her but his words were gentle. “Of course, you wouldn’t know, given where you were raised, would you?”
They walked down an immense hallway. Huge wooden beams supported the vaulted ceiling overhead and the palace held a sense of opulence that was lacking at Ravensfell. The setting sun seeped through the stained glass windows that lined the upper wall casting a prism of rich colors along the corridor.
“They are known as the Avedla,” Becknah continued, “the scripture and prophecies of Getheas, the greatest of the Ancients. The Avedla is a treasure which has been guarded within Jarisa for centuries.” Becknah said. “A very sacred treasure. Most of the contents within the books are written as verse—as quatrains.”
Nica frowned. “Quatrains?”
“Four line rhyming poems. Some of the text is said to tell the location of the Getheas Stone.” He led her down a long flight of stone stairs. “You’re familiar with the Getheas Stone?”
Nica nodded. She had learned the story of Getheas as a child. Mosaba was obsessed with the legendary Getheas Stone, a fervent believer that it was his destiny to control its magical power.
“Yes,” she said softly, as she followed Becknah around the corner. “Wasn’t it supposed to be inscribed with some secret?”
“The Stone is said to be a key—” Becknah said softly— “to the future.”
They turned the corner and Nica stopped to stare in amazement at the room before her. Great wood corbels carved into fantastical shapes of mermaids and sea serpents held beams that arched three stories to support a carved panel ceiling. Two long tables stretched down the rectangular room with benches attached on each side. At the end of the hall, a raised platform stood with another long table stretched at right angles to the others in the room. Five huge fireplaces were built along each wall, blazing with light and warmth.
“The Great Hall,” Becknah said in a low voice.
A smattering of groups sat at the tables. The men rose and bowed to Nica as she and Becknah passed by. Nica acknowledged their respect with a small tilt of her head but didn’t allow her gaze to linger. One small man dressed in a black and white checkered vest stood and called Jaaniyah’s name, but she pretended not to hear him, concentrating instead on her conver
sation.
Becknah led her out of a second set of large doors at the far end of the room into another hallway. “Come, my study is located near the top of Stargazer—HighGarden’s tallest tower. The best view of the stars you’ll find in Jarisa,” he said with a smile. He pointed out items of interest as they walked and Nica tried to take it all in. She had lived in a castle in Sartis but this was truly a palace.
“Becknah!” A voice hailed them from behind. Nica turned to see a big bear of a man, half again as tall as she, hurrying toward them. “M’lady,” he nodded at her and swept his arm in the direction of an open door. “If I may have a word.” He took Becknah by the arm and pulled him into a nearby room.
“Eisle Heathron,” Becknah replied as he winked at Nica, “since you are Minister of War, you can certainly have a word.”
Once they were through the portal, Heathron shut the door and began speaking in a low voice. “We’ve news that Mosaba is on the move. Troops have been seen gathering at both the north and south slivers. It’s possible some have already infiltrated Jarisa.” He looked from one to the other. “Becknah, what do your devices say? Have you read the Xanfere cards today? Are the stars still in agreement that the King should remain in his present location?”
Becknah frowned. “Eisle, you know we’ve been expecting Mosaba to retaliate in some way. His forces aren’t strong enough to make a direct attack on the palace but we know he’ll do something.” He peered at Heathron over the top of his glasses. “There’s something in the orb, but it’s murky, unclear at this time. I’ve seen no signs that indicate we should move the King. For now, he’s probably safest where he’s at.”
“Mosaba likes to create diversions.” Nica spoke without thinking. “He’ll make you look here—” Nica held one hand open— “when he’s really doing something over there.” She beckoned with her other hand. Both men gazed at her with startled expressions making her wish she could bite her tongue off.
The Minister of War shot a quizzical glance at Becknah before he spoke. “Where did you learn this information, M’lady? Did one of the soldiers tell you?”
The Midnight Spy Page 9