The words were there and waiting, so Aspen pushed them, fiery bubbles from his tongue. He stared directly at the biggest slash so that he wouldn't think about the man. Staunch was something that required the most focused intent, to push arcane power into flesh, to seal and knit and hurry along what was going to happen anyway. To not wreck what you meant to fix.
The edges of the fresh, freely bleeding wound melted together and scabbed over, the skin around it flushing angry red as the body reacted to the change. Aspen switched focus to Leton's arm, pushing it a few days along but no more, because the forced healing would sap Leton's energy. Too much and he'd be exhausted, maybe even pass out. Aspen had heard of people being killed by Staunch.
More than a little smug at how well the casting had gone, Aspen watched his Phoenix flex his arm experimentally. The edge of the scab tore, but it didn't split, and Leton nodded approval before smearing a glob of green honey over the damage.
Glowing inside, Aspen proffered bandages, scissors and water at appropriate intervals, and planned seduction. There was a chance his Phoenix could be brought to the hand by the simple lure of enthusiastic pleasure, but he was certainly one to slap down a straightforward assault. No, Aspen would have to draw his interest, and after that little homily about contributing, he did not have to look far for a plan of attack.
Convenient that it matched his campaign to win the Diamond. If the golden Aloren happened to think being useful was a marvellous thing as well, then, Sun! It was obviously meant to be.
Smiling to himself, Aspen let his Phoenix go get dressed, and dutifully cleaned up.
ooOoo
"Quick, Rua. You distract him while I grab one of those pies."
Aspen blocked the oven door. "They're not done yet."
"Then they should stop smelling so marvellous," Gentian said, poking her nose under the covers of the dishes keeping warm on the table. "Roast chicken too. You've done us proud."
He swatted her away. "It'll go cold. Has the Diamond said to start? Leton went to change."
"We have been tasked to help as needed," Rua said, smiling at him with easy good humour. "This is a party."
"I think we all need one," Aspen said, leaving the pies to fend for themselves and crossing to squeeze Rua happily. "You're looking better. You look marvellous, in fact." She was out of uniform, had found a gorgeous Fae robe of plummy red. Even Gentian was wearing a fetching little shift that made her look delicately edible.
"I have slept while you have worked," Rua said, looking ruefully at the pink lines on her wrists. "My lord insisted on returning us to as whole a skin as could be managed."
"So where do we start?" Gentian asked, eyeing the array on the table.
"Take out the wine and spirits," Leton said, striding in and glancing around the room. It was, Aspen imagined, the exact same quick and comprehensive survey that the man would give a row of troops.
Briskly, the guised Phoenix began transferring the contents of the last bubbling pots to the array of serving bowls. He'd managed to find some Fae clothing that resembled his uniform, but rather crisper and less grimed with wear. Very nice.
Offering up a suitably brisk salute, Aspen gathered four of the bottles, Rua following his lead. They were eating in a far more formal setting this time, quite the little social gathering, and would then move to a cosy lounging room to brainstorm over the brandy.
The long, polished dining table gleamed with porcelain and crystal. Seventeen places as the Diamond had instructed, cutting the divide between royalty and lesser folk perhaps because it pleased him to acknowledge Leton's worth. It pleased Aspen too, and he began to hum, whisking about, wanting everything to look perfect.
Rua was watching him with that quizzical smile. "He is a remarkable man, is he not?"
"A god among mortals," Aspen replied, meaning it for both his prey. Hands free, he captured Rua's and danced her briefly around the room. "Shall we chase him together, Rua?" he asked. "Don't tell me he doesn't tempt you."
She laughed, full-throated, wholehearted. "You are the small boy at the candies stall," she said. "Eyes like saucers, barely knowing where to start."
"I'll eat my fill and go back for seconds," he assured her, then shook his head. "Sun, Rua, I never thought I'd enjoy cooking. I think I'm good at it."
"And your teacher so inspiring." Indulgent amusement.
"Infinitely. Honestly, actually. Leton just makes it seem so natural. Though I can't say I thought much of the chicken-plucking. We soaked grains to stuff them with, mixed with all manner of greenery, and basted them with the juices. I'm dying to see what it tastes like. Speaking of which–" He hurried them back, determined to have nothing go wrong with this meal.
They found Gentian leaning over an empty jug, casting with immense concentration. Conjuration, Aspen realised, and wondered if she was equal to the task. Creating things out of magic alone required a fixity of purpose, an exact visualisation, and was more than power-hungry. Few could make anything complex.
Keeping quiet, since it wouldn't do to distract her, he crept a little closer, and was just in time to see the jug fill with something thick and milky.
"Cream?" he guessed.
"For the pies," Gentian said, sitting back with a sigh. "Pies must have cream. It's one of the laws."
"It, ah, it's got little black specks in it."
"I know." She dipped a spoon into the jug, and licked it with decadent pleasure. "Also sugar. I've an enormous sweet tooth."
"It's still got little black specks in it," Aspen said, shaking his head and smiling. She was in a good mood. Surely the Diamond hadn't–?
Leton took a spoon and sampled the cream, then nodded. "Very good. We'd best get on."
"Ants?" Aspen suggested, wondering why no-one else thought cream shouldn't have little black specks. "Pepper?"
Gentian just laughed, and went to pick up one of the salvers, but Rua, with an affectionate squeeze of his shoulder, murmured: "Vanilla seed. Hurry now."
"Place the main dishes along the centre of the table," Leton ordered, and led them like a daily-drilled troop to get the whole of the main meal out on the table just in time for the Diamond to lead their guests into the room. A dazzling array of royalty, all dressed up and nowhere else to go.
Aspen put on his sunniest smile and played waiter with Rua until everyone was seated and had a full glass of wine. They'd even made juice for the children, though the look Kassen gave him suggested she thought herself more than old enough for a dark red. Fully aware he was providing his erstwhile master with a great deal of amusement, Aspen made an elaborate show of bowing to Leton before he lifted the covers. Leton looked tempted to roll his eyes, and for a second a very ambiguous expression flickered over Chenar's face, but the appreciative murmur of royalty bore the moment out.
It was a charmed meal. By some unspoken agreement, everyone pretended that the Fair did not exist, that there was no hidden ceiling of stone to force them into company, and they weren't batting about like moths getting nowhere. Aurak Bes and the Diamond, with a faintly suspicious degree of coordination, coaxed the conversation along, steering clear of dangerous shoals and pricking bubbles of animosity well before they threatened to burst.
And the heirs of the West let them, and enjoyed themselves: laughed and told anecdotes and left their daggers sheathed. The food was an immense success, and Aspen would swear by every lover he'd tumbled that it was the best he'd ever eaten. Even the cream with specks. When they moved into the lounge it was difficult to throw off the air of celebration. They settled in chairs, little Prince Chiall more asleep than awake, the two Crown Princes bracketing Aloren, Aspen carefully placing himself not too close, not too far from his Phoenix. There was more than a hint of reluctance as they looked to the Diamond to open discussions.
But it was Aurak Bes who, warm smile fading from his lips, said: "I cannot find the Gods here."
"The sel-deseva failed?" Lady Dhara looked disappointed, even though it was a rare thing for a sel-deseva �
� a call for an answer from the Gods – to be answered.
"Definitively. But more than that, after the temples here were located by our explorers I visited both and spent time in prayer. It is not unexpected, in a Sun's Circle shut from the sky, not to feel any echo of His regard, but never have I knelt before an arluna and felt nothing. This shield is quite outside my experience. To exclude the gods themselves..." He shook his head.
"Suldar is our Sun and Moon," Seylon Heresar said airily. He leaned toward Gentian, who he'd kept close to all evening. "This could give Suldar a motive for not wanting us killed. If Lady Moon cannot gather us back, this valley will end up filled with ghosts."
"Would that bother her so much? She's more than powerful enough to ward against ghosts." Gentian shrugged, apparently oblivious to Heresar's evident interest. Aspen was going to have to sit the woman down and give her a lecture on flirtation. Or, since it was Heresar, maybe not.
"We, too, have something to report," Lady Dhara said and touched her eldest daughter's arm. Desseron, who was a less-frozen miniature of Princess Kestia, straightened nervously, but nodded.
"We do not believe the people here ran," she said, each word clear and careful. "We have discovered no signs of flight, only of abandonment, of objects dropped and left. But at the same time, no bodies, or burials. Every person in the valley – but not the animals – must have...disappeared at the same instant." Since this matched what everyone had already seen, there was a general murmur of agreement, and Desseron dropped her chin to acknowledge it before adding: "But people came here after."
"You have found evidence of this, Highness?" Aurak Bes asked gravely.
"One of the houses near where we entered. Since it was our gate, and the illusion shows a road leading up the hills to that point, we looked there first. In most of the kitchens they were preparing a big meal, like this happened just before dinner. In one they'd dropped flour and wine, and people had walked through it. Not any of us. The footprints looked the right size for Fae, and something smaller, with claws. But it looked like they hadn't walked there 'til the wine had dried sticky. Days after it happened."
"Hardly surprising that Fae came here after," Jurasel said, cutting short the exchange of proud parental glances between Desseron's mothers. "How does this advance us?"
"It suggests that our Lady Suldar didn't shut herself away without discussion with someone outside this shield," Seylon Heresar replied, quick as ever to distract his royals from fighting. "That the Fair know the details of the disaster, know that this city is still here, know where that door is – probably wrote that knot of script. The question, which I'll refer to you brother, is what they'll do about it."
The Diamond, who had been playing his usual trick of just sitting there listening, inclined his head to Desseron with pointed courtesy. "I would be obliged, Highness, if you would show me the particular house where you found these footprints," he said. "There may well be some significance in the location."
"Of course, Lord Magister," the girl said.
"As to the Fair, I understand them to be bound by the Ban of a former Queen against even speaking of Telsandar's past. Only Desteret can countermand the rulings of her predecessors, and that she will be...reluctant to do. I would not rely on the Fair to rescue us." The corner of his mouth curled the tiniest fraction and Aspen, who knew the Diamond's expressions well, shivered at this one.
"You're such an optimist, Aristide," Heresar said. He was making a little show of gazing at Gentian's profile through the amber contents of his glass. "It does make one wonder, though, just what is going on out there in the sun."
"Nothing any of us would like, I'd wager." Jurasel, who'd planted himself on a footstool close to the fire, looked from Heresar to his sister. "Who do you suppose our beloved mother favours now? Semille?"
Kestia's expression was unpromising, but then she touched Desseron's shoulder, and lifted her own. "Does it matter?"
Jurasel's eyes went wide, then he laughed. "No. Amazing, isn't it? Abduction has unexpected advantages." He toasted her. "But to return to the point. So far these little get-togethers have been very interesting, and we've learned dribs and drabs of Fae history, and achieved nothing much. Something happened long ago, and for some reason we were brought here, and someone is amusing themselves making pointless displays with our powers. Wonderful. But we haven't made any progress toward getting out. And that being the case, I think we should start looking at the practicalities of staying here."
Aloren, languorous in a high-backed chair between the two princes, lifted one hand.
"Are our researches so fruitless?" Her slow smile spoke of secrets and mysteries, caught them all up in its spell and left them envying the Diamond his brilliance as sapphire and crystal pulled honey-gold eyes. "I should like to know what other words have been erased from the Fae language."
She'd scored a hit. The Diamond blinked, then said: "Your instincts are as ever acute, Highness," obviously meaning the compliment. "Very few, as I said, but one other that is more than relevant to this discussion. Selvar. Dawn."
Aspen missed Gentian's reaction. He caught instead Heresar's response, the curiosity and heightened attention focused on a woman who was now looking abstractly into the fire, face composed and posture relaxed. What had the Duke seen? Shock, anger, pure hurt? Well, Aspen had warned her against loving the Diamond. One-sided devotion was like breathing knives.
"And why in the name of all that's sacred didn't you tell us that before?" Jurasel exclaimed, too astonished to be angry. "Sun, Couerveur! Anyone would think you wanted to stay here!"
"And wonder what else you haven't told us." Chenar was almost sad, as if he, like Gentian, had expected the Diamond to have shared his thoughts sooner.
The mellow ease of the evening had been stripped away. They were once again adversaries, stolen, in danger, and less than pleased.
"Names have power," the Diamond replied. The mildest of tones, and it held them all, banished the last shreds of comfort and left each one of them alone in a dark, lonely place. Names have power. They had met dusk, Suldar. Did they want to meet the dawn?
"As for research–" The Diamond lifted an equivocal hand. "My attempts to scry for records mentioning Suldar, or the events leading up to Telsandar's disaster, have brought...curious results, so I have been casting about more or less at random for texts. The official histories, those kept by the land's Aviemptor, have been removed–"
"By Suldar?" Lady Dhara, arm protectively around Desseron's shoulders, frowned as if the lack was the Diamond's own fault.
"More likely by a representative of The Deeping's Queen, before the valley was sealed. The Fair do not care to forget their mistakes."
"For pity's sake, Couerveur," Jurasel interrupted. "Does it matter what you haven't found, what you don't know? You must have at least made a few educated guesses on why we've been brought here. Spit it out, man."
An almost compassionate expression flickered over the Diamond's face. "Very well." He sat back in his chair, and the firelight caught pale lashes and turned them gold. "Suldar named herself Telsandar's Regent, not its Lord. Who does she hold the throne for?"
"The Lady Dawn one would presume," Heresar said.
"If the name is correct, and was abandoned for the same reason as Suldar's, then we must remember again the power of naming. It is at dawn that Magister Calder senses something trapped and trying to escape. Dawn when your barge was snatched from the Galassas. If you wish to try to shield yourself from the usurpation of your powers, then I suggest that you make your attempts just prior to first light.
"The names themselves are typical of the Fair. Dawn and Dusk. Times of transition. And in Dusk we are shown what change was being made. More than long-lived, more than powerful, more than Fair. I have seen no sign that Suldar eats or sleeps. I am not certain she even breathes. She is what the Fair, in their arrogance, thought to become."
"Gods." The Aurak breathed the word, as if it were too heavy to speak.
"Monsters." The Diamond said the word with more than even his usual precision. "We saw Suldar draw the living magic from the garden plants, simply by touching them. We can only speculate on how her mother brought her to term. And what Suldar thought of the creatures who made her."
"Her and her sister." Jurasel was gazing fixedly at his own sister. "You can breed your children for power, but you've precious little control over what they'll make of themselves."
The Diamond's faint, sweet smile was sufficient reminder of his famously toxic relationship with his own mother. "I have found absolutely no sign of another Fae in this valley, let alone one so easy to detect as a sister to Suldar. If there is a prisoner here, the shielding of their cell must be absolute."
"And what is this place if it's not a prison?"
"A haven." Gentian had whispered the word, was staring at Aristide disbelievingly. "It's trying to get in."
The Diamond held her eyes: a grave moment of consideration that brought Aspen cold shudders. Then he looked back at Cya's Crown Prince. "You asked for my guess on why we've been brought here, Prince Jurasel? I think we are siege engines. As soon as this Other has our range, our role will be to somehow bring down the walls of Telsandar's Heart. To attack Suldar."
And in the appalled silence which followed it was Aspen's Phoenix who roused himself from the Guard Dog's shadows to murmur: "No need to plan for a prolonged stay then."
Chapter Fourteen
The worst thing about an increasing sense of impending doom was not being able to do anything to escape it. No more than she could escape her mornings.
Gentian made her preparations an hour before dawn, trying to be practical in the face of dire warnings and certain discomfort. Foremost was to belatedly put together a makeshift litter tray. The Fair, in all their genius, hadn't bred pets which came already toilet trained, and the gift of a kitten brought practical considerations. Then she wrote out the spell she would use, ate a light breakfast, and stripped all but a sheet from the bed, adding a mound of pillows so that she could prop herself up. Two jugs, one of water and the other very sweet lemonade. Books full of pictures.
Bones of the Fair Page 18