Then Lucy conjured the sylveth to harden, to seal in the Jutras majick so that it could not escape. She didn’t know if it would work. She didn’t know if it could work. But she wanted it. She wanted it, and so she conjured it.
The pain cut off as the seal closed.
She lay on the floor, weeping. The sensation of the knife scraping at the bones of her skull lingered. She pressed her hands over her face, groping as if she couldn’t be sure her face had not been carved away. Her clothes were clammy and cold. The smell of her own dirt mixed with charred meat and blood reached her and she retched, bile burning her nose.
Then Marten’s arms circled her and he lifted her up. She clung to him, trapped in the memories of being flayed alive.
Marten carried Lucy out the main doors, kicking them open with a force no normal man should have. The hinges tore with a scream of metal and they hung drunkenly. Outside the Crown Shields waited. They stared, none trying to stop him as Marten strode past, ignoring their questions. If they had tried, he didn’t know what he would do. He had to get Lucy away, somewhere safe where he could take care of her. He remembered how she was on the Bramble ship, so close to death. She seemed as broken now as then, only her desperate grasp on his neck lending him reason. If he lost her…The power of the storm was still in him, sparks snapping in his hair and crackling around his feet. If he lost her, he’d drive the Inland Sea over the Jutras Empire and drown it.
“Marten!”
Not even Keros’s voice could pull Lucy from her hysteria. Marten didn’t slow down.
“Is she all right? Where are you taking her? I won’t let you hurt her again.”
“I’m taking her someplace safe.” The words were cold and black as the deepest depths of the Inland Sea.
But his pace slowed. Lucy clutched him tighter, as if afraid he was going to let her go. He lifted her higher, firming his hold.
“Bring her to me, to my house. She’ll be safe there.”
“It’s too far. There’s a mob.”
“Then we’ll find a place here. This maundering sprawl has hundreds of empty rooms.”
“Your pardon, gentlemen. But I can help with that.”
Vaguely Marten recognized the seneschal’s voice. It trembled. He looked at the man for a moment, then nodded. The seneschal led them to a luxurious suite, leaving them there with a stammered thank-you. For stopping the Jutras. For saving…everyone. When he was gone, Keros sealed the doors with majick and Marten undressed Lucy and settled her in a bath, glaring murderously at Keros, who would have helped.
“She’s my friend,” Keros said, meeting Marten’s un-earthly black gaze unflinchingly.
“She’s my life,” Marten said, and shut the bedroom doors.
Lucy’s tears slowly subsided. She did not speak, retaining a tight hold on Marten’s hand as if he were the only thing anchoring her to sanity. When she was calm and clean, he lifted her out and toweled her off in front of the fire. He combed her hair dry and then helped her into bed, crawling in beside her and tightly wrapping her in his arms. She fell asleep with her ear against his chest, lulled by the beat of his heart.
Chapter 33
Lucy did not know how long she slept. When she woke, Marten was still there, stroking her hair, drawing the strands slowly between his fingers. She looked at him.
“Good evening. Welcome back to the land of the wakeful and hungry.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“All night and all day. It’s past dinnertime. And I’ve been behaving like such a good pillow for you. But now I’ve got to use the slop jar.”
He slid out of bed. Lucy rolled to the edge, sitting up and pulling the sheet around herself with a shiver.
“Is everything…all right?”
His back stiffened. “You are still alive.”
“But the Jutras? King William? Queen Naren?”
He shook his head, turning back to face her. “I don’t know. A very possessive woman has had me in her nefarious clutches and there’s been a majicar guarding the doors, keeping out the nosy riffraff and gossips.”
“Not to mention everyone wanting to talk to us to find out just what in the depths happened,” Lucy said drily.
An impatient knock rattled the door. It thrust open before either of them could answer and Keros stormed inside. He glowered at Lucy.
“So, you’re awake. It’s about time.”
“I’m hungry,” she said. The horror of the events in the throne room was losing its grip on her. She smiled, ridiculously happy to see Keros unhurt and his usual grouchy self.
“They’ve been banging on the doors nonstop, wanting to see you. I’m surprised they didn’t send for the Sennet to blast them open,” Keros said, emotion pulling the corners of his mouth tight.
Lucy’s jaw jutted in sudden anger. “I won’t let them arrest you for being an unregistered majicar.”
Keros froze, then gave a short, guttural laugh. “You won’t let them.”
“That’s right.”
He stared at her. “I’ll send for food. And find you some clothing,” he said harshly.
“Don’t bother,” she said with a merry smile.
A thought conjured a midnight silk dress with full skirts. Silver Koreions gamboled around along the cuffs, hem, and deep neckline.
Keros jerked back as if struck and then abruptly turned and disappeared. Lucy exchanged an uncertain glance with Marten, then followed. Keros was pacing in front of the door. The bellpull swung wildly.
“Is something the matter?”
He whirled around. “I thought you were dead. Or worse—sylveth spawn. You and Marten both. You were my only friends, the only people alive who I thought I could trust. Then Marten betrayed you. After that, I had to write him off—it was unforgivable. And now here you are, alive and well and snuggled up to Marten like nothing ever happened. And on top of everything else—” He broke off, his lips compressing.
“On top of everything else we’ve developed funny-looking eyes. But Marten has scales,” she pointed out. “And he can call the winds. Not to mention control the waves.”
He stared wordlessly.
“Lucy is Errol Cipher’s heir. He said so. And we found a blood oak grove on the Bramble,” Marten said. He walked in wearing a sheet wrapped around his hips. “My clothes are ruined. Smell horrible. I could put them on, but I might be offensive to delicate noses. I could wander about in this very fine sheet. Or you could take pity and dress me.” He waggled his brows at her. “Or I could go naked.” He let his sheet slip a little.
She grinned. “I should like that rather more than Keros. But I think we’ll have to go see Cousin William and explain ourselves. It would probably be better if you were a bit more circumspect.”
Lucy conjured a pair of close-fitting black trousers, and a long vest and frock coat, with an ivory silk shirt. The vest and turned-back cuffs on his coat were embroidered in gold and cobalt thread in a pattern of scrolling curves and lines that suggested wind and waves.
“Very nice. Now how about dinner?”
“I’ve rung for someone,” Keros said tightly.
“I’m hungry now. Aren’t you, Lucy? You don’t want to wait for a maid to fetch something and drag it all the way back here. It’ll be cold and she’ll hardly have more than a bowl of porridge and stale bread.”
She gave Marten a withering look. “All right.”
She conjured so much food that the table couldn’t hold it all. They set some of it on the floor and chairs. Keros picked at his food, brooding as the other two ate ravenously. A maid came at last and he sent her away. When Lucy and Marten were too full to eat any more and she’d banished the remains, he confronted them.
“Now that you’re sated, tell me what happened to you.”
Another knock on the door prevented them from answering. Keros wrenched it open. Sergeant Digby stood there.
“Your pardon, but the king wants you,” he said with a clumsy bow.
Lucy stood quickly. �
��Is there word on Queen Naren?”
“Dunno, miss. Best come now.”
He guided them to the royal chambers, passing dozens of heavily armed Crown Shields. Their numbers increased the closer they came to their destination. Digby knocked at the outer chamber and they were let in by yet more Crown Shields, who directed the three into an interior sitting room. Lucy knocked on the door and the king himself answered.
“Lucy!”
He pulled her into a warm embrace. She returned it, moved. After all that she’d been accused of, that he could receive her so kindly.
“Come inside. We’ve been waiting for you. Your mother is here.”
“Queen Naren?” Lucy asked hopefully.
William shook his head, a spasm crossing his face. The bruise was gone, healed by a majicar. “Her heart gave out. The terror was too much. I think she must not have suffered.”
Lucy gripped his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He patted her hand and then motioned her inside. She went slowly. The knowledge of what had happened to the rest of the prisoners on the Bramble ship hit her with the force of a bludgeon. Her father, her brothers, Sarah, Blythe, James—slaves of the Jutras. What could she say to her mother?
“Lucy!”
Tears streamed down her mother’s wan face. She stretched her arms out and Lucy went into them, kneeling down beside her mother’s chair.
“I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”
“Nonsense,” her mother said in her imperious voice. “This was not your doing and I won’t hear otherwise.” Her voice cracked. “Did you—did you see your father and Stephen and Robert?”
Lucy shook her head. “I didn’t.”
“But surely—when they came off the ship…”
“They didn’t get off the ship,” Lucy said, forcing the words out. “Marten and I were the only ones. Everyone else—” She broke off, biting her lips. She drew a steadying breath. “Everyone else was sent to Bokal-Dur. To be sold as slaves.”
Shocked silence echoed in the room. William was the first to speak.
“Tell us the whole story. Everything.”
Lucy settled into a chair. Marten sat at her feet. She took strength from his warm weight pressed against her legs. Keros retreated to the window, his face shadowed. Several of William’s advisers were present and a majicar she recognized as a distant cousin. She told her story, beginning with the day when she met Sharpel, twenty years before. It took hours to tell, with Marten and Keros adding what they knew. Marten confessed his part in framing her, earning himself a sharp recrimination from William and angry words from her mother. He suffered these humbly, offering no defense. Lucy’s obvious trust in him was all that prevented him from being hauled off in chains. Not that chains could have held him.
She did not reveal the discovery of the blood oak grove or Errol Cipher’s majickal library. That information was for Cousin William alone. Keros already knew of course. She trusted him. But she didn’t know William’s advisers. Who knew if they too were Jutras spies?
When she was through, Keros explained that when he heard of her capture, he’d retrieved the Jutras contracts from her hiding place and brought them and her letter to the castle. “I told you it would not be easy to get an audience. It took nearly a sennight.”
His tone was accusing. He was angry still and she wasn’t sure why.
William rubbed his forehead. “I would that I’d seen you sooner. But the mess with the lighter and stevedore strikes and the pileup of the ships, not to mention the business with Lucy and the trials…
“They came out of nowhere. One moment they weren’t there; the next the throne room was full of armed Jutras. They were all majicars, except Sharpel. There was nothing that could be done. They took everyone prisoner, killing every Crown Shield and anyone else who resisted. The one, Glaquis, was their leader. Their plan was to do something to me. A spell that would allow them to control me. I’d be a puppet and no one would ever know. Every king or queen from hereafter would have been under their control. Who knows who else they’d have gone after? The Merchants’ Guild. Maybe even the majicars.
“I couldn’t let it happen. I snapped the Pale. That upset their turnip cart. They didn’t know I could do that. At first they couldn’t believe I’d done it, or that I couldn’t reverse it. It never occurred to them that the people of Crosspointe would rather die than live under Jutras domination. They thought us too fat, too complacent, too comfortable. And maybe that’s true. But I carry the founding king’s name so that I will not forget the principles this land was founded on. And we bend to no one.”
“How did they escape from their prison?” Marten asked.
“Majick. Illusion. They had help from Sharpel. Knowing he and your brother coerced Pilots and captains with the threat of sylveth, it is not so hard to believe that he turned a majicar. Or put a spell on a majicar like the one intended for me. Or he could have turned every guard. I’ll get to the bottom of this treachery, I can assure you.”
“I don’t understand how they could have gotten raw sylveth inside the Pale,” the majicar said from her seat in the corner.
“I’ve been thinking about it. There are all those stories about worked sylveth that suddenly starts turning people into spawn.”
“Fairy tales,” the majicar said sharply.
“Maybe. But what if they were true? What if raw sylveth can be passed through the Pale in a worked sylveth container? I don’t know, but it might be possible. But that’s not the only way. It can be conjured,” Lucy said.
“But…”
“Yes?”
“That kind of majick…you must be tremendously strong.” He sounded both eager and frightened.
Lucy didn’t answer.
Suddenly William stood. “Well, thank you, everyone. I shall call a council meeting within a glass to discuss these matters further. But now I’d like a few minutes with Lucy and her friends.” He put a hand on Lucy’s mother’s shoulder when she went to ring for a servant to carry her out. “Laura, please stay.”
The others bowed and withdrew. The king turned to Lucy.
“I have to know. How strong a majicar are you?”
“The cipher that attached to me was designed by Errol Cipher to find his heir—someone who could match his strength, and therefore be trusted with his knowledge.” She explained about finding the blood oak grove and the room inside the mother tree. “He said that majicars are supposed to serve. I have served Crosspointe and the crown all my life. What I am is yours.”
William nodded. “I know that, Lucy. And what about you?” he asked, turning to Marten. “Are you a majicar, also?”
Marten shook his head. “No.”
“Then what?”
“I am…me. I am the Inland Sea, and the wind across the waves. I am the storm and the cloud and the drop of rain.”
The king stared at him as if he’d sprouted wings. “What?”
“Like Lucy, I’m faithful to the crown. I always have been, barring my…former…love of gambling.” His expression turned suddenly hard and remote, and a tightness pulled at the room like the moment before lightning strikes. “But make no mistake. What I am belongs to Lucy.”
The king nodded, his expression unchanging. “And you, Keros. An unregistered majicar. What do I do with you?”
“Nothing,” Lucy said softly. “He and I have no need to join the Sennet. We are the king’s majicars. We serve no one else but you. Isn’t that so?” she asked, looking at Keros.
“Exactly so,” he said, his tone uninflected. She still could not see his expression and wondered what he was thinking.
“Then as your king, I must give you an unpalatable command. I expect you to obey. Do you understand?”
Both Lucy and Keros nodded slowly. Her stomach clenched.
“I forbid you to go seeking after your family or friends. For now, they are lost to us. Perhaps one day, but until then, you must abide by my command. I want your word.”
Keros mumbled assent,
his gaze boring into Lucy. She bowed her head. She couldn’t just abandon them. Not knowing what the Jutras were capable of. She couldn’t agree.
“Lucy,” her mother said softly. “William is right. You are needed here. There may be corruption at every level. Who knows how many were involved in this plot? Not only that, but you are Errol Cipher’s heir. You must bring back that lost knowledge to Crosspointe. You must help strengthen us. The Jutras will come again. It’s only a matter of time.”
Tears burned in Lucy’s eyes and rolled hotly down her cheeks. She nodded. “I give you my word.”
“Thank you. I must ask one more thing of you as soon as you can manage. I want you to restore the link that allows me to snap the Pale. I hate to think it will become necessary again, but I fear it will. Tomorrow will be soon enough. Now if you will excuse me, I must go see the children. They’ve been hit hard by Naren’s death.”
William withdrew, leaving Lucy alone with Keros, Marten, and her mother. The silence was awkward.
“Come here, young man,” her mother said, directing a frosty look at Marten. He rose with liquid grace and went to stand before her. “Just what are your intentions toward my daughter?”
He gaped, taken aback.
“Mother—”
Laura Trenton waved an imperious hand at her daughter. “Quiet. Captain Thorpe, you have abused my daughter and betrayed her. Her father is away—” Her voice cracked and it took a moment for her to collect herself, her lips pinching together tightly. “Her father is away, and so I must act in his stead. Do you plan to marry her?”
Marten grinned. “Gladly. But either way, I will never leave her side.”
“That’s going to make using the slop jar rather awkward,” Keros said crudely. “Not to mention when she wants to have a squeeze and a tickle with another man. Or even marry someone else.”
Marten scowled at him. Lucy covered a smirk with her hand. Keros was getting back a bit of his own.
“You mind your manners,” her mother said reprovingly.
“My apologies,” Keros said with a precise bow.
The Cipher Page 39