Raine chirped and fluttered her wings.
Glory pushed the window open, her hand on her wizard stone. “Who are you? Reveal yourself.”
Raine flashed through the opening and shifted. “It’s me.”
Glory dropped her wizard stone. “Raine? What are you doing here, and in your nightgown, no less?”
“Never mind that. I know.”
Glory’s expression tightened in disapproval. “Now what? Have you been gazing into that accursed mirror again? Did I not warn you ʼtwas dangerous?”
“The mirror is history. I threw it away. I saw them, Glory. I know.” Raine gestured. “The woman who’s been cursed…Raven’s mother is—” Her tongue grew stiff and the words dried up. She tried again. “Her name is…she’s…”
Clutching her throat, she collapsed to the floor, panting from the effort to speak. “I can’t,” she said when she could breathe again. “The name is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say it. It doesn’t make sense. I say it all the time.”
“Not in connection with the curse,” Glory said. “The curse will not allow you to reveal her, even to me.” Her eyes were alight. “But, you know, and that gives me comfort. You saw them together?”
Raine nodded. “In the old tower by the north gate. I turned into a bird and flew out the window. The bird thing was Mimsie’s idea.” Raine made a face. “I’m not very good at birds.”
“Nonsense. You simply had to choose the right form. The shade…she knows?”
“Yeah, she and Kron are an item. Mimsie told me the gods are responsible for the curse, but why? Why did they curse—” Her lips froze. “Why did they punish you-know-who?”
“Dearly would I love to confess the whole to you,” Glory said. “Alas, my lips are sealed, the same as yours.”
“I hate this!” Raine struck her thighs with her fists. “Does this mean I can’t tell the rowan?”
Glory shook her head. “No, but you know, and that means the curse is weakening. For the first time in eons, I have hope. My suffering has not been in vain.”
Raine got to her feet. “Your suffering? This isn’t about you, Glory. You haven’t been cursed.”
“Have I not?” Glory cried. “Have I not lived with the taste of regret in my mouth like ashes for years upon end? Did I not sacrifice my freedom and join the Circle of Seers in hopes of finding an end to the curse?”
Raine stared at her. “This is your fault, isn’t it? And you’re eaten up with guilt because of it. You and Glonoff are both involved, somehow.”
“Glonoff was here? You saw him?”
“His projection. Like his nasty shadow self. He wants her for himself, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. He has ever been obsessed with her.”
“Does Glonoff know about Finn?”
Glory looked confused. “Finn? I do not—”
“Oh, come on, what kind of seer are you? You don’t know? The rowan is Finn.”
“Nay. Finn died thousands of years ago.”
“Finn pretended to die, although I’m not sure why,” Raine said. “There haven’t been five rowans. There has been one.”
Glory gazed at her in astonishment; then she began to laugh. “I might have known. Oh, this is rich. Too, too rich. Does Bree know?”
“No idea,” Raine said, “but, somehow, I doubt it.” She hesitated. “Glory, why did you hire Alden to steal the Eye? Was it because of something you saw in a vision?”
“Not my vision.” Glory stared at her hands. “Seratha’s. I happened upon her one night lying next to the orb, the sacred dream stone used by the Circle. She was lu entilah, in a dream state. I placed my fingers on her temples, and entered her thoughts, and I saw what she saw—Alden, stealing the Eye from the Hall of the Gods and me, handing him a pouch of gold.” Her expression grew anguished. “She was but a novice, and I a skilled seer. I stole her dream and kept it for myself. I knew she had talent. I knew she deserved to be elevated from the ranks. I knew that Naadra, the skaldiff, hated her beyond all reason, and mistreated her. Had I shared her dream, as I was pledged to, Seratha would have been made part of the Circle. But I kept silent. By doing so, I condemned her to deprivation and abuse.”
“Why? Are the Eye and the curse connected?”
Glory looked Raine in the eye. “All things are connected, foolish child. That much, I learned within the Circle. Why do you think I told Reba about you? Why do you think I saved you from the river? The images are fleeting and dim, but you have a part to play in this muddle. I have seen it. How great your role is, I cannot say, but know this. There is little I would not do to save my sister from her fate.”
Chapter 22
At the Games
The next morning, Mauric escorted Raine and his sisters to the games. Lady Asta, pleading fatigue, stayed in her chambers.
“Too much Valdarian brandy at the banquet last night,” Mauric explained, “and Mother’s unaccustomed to rich food. It’s plain fare, for the most part, at Sea Watch.”
For the games, Raine had chosen a wine-red gown with tight green sleeves and a scoop neck embroidered with beads. She wore a silver belt from Gertie’s stash at her hips and a delicate silver necklace set with red stones at her throat. Her wizard stone was invisible. Tyra and Luanna wore matching gowns of sea foam green.
“It’s not fair,” Tyra confided to Raine as they stood in the bailey waiting for a carriage. “This color is ravishing on Lulu, but I look like a clump of seaweed.”
“Don’t be silly,” Raine said. “You look fetching. I know Carr will think so.”
“Carr?” Luanna turned from chatting with Mauric about the games and gave Raine and Tyra a bright smile. “Did I hear the roark’s name?”
“I was saying Carr is sure to find—ow.” Raine glared at Tyra. “Why did you stomp on my foot?”
“Raine was remarking how well you look, Lulu,” Tyra said, “and how many admirers you’re bound to have today.”
Luanna narrowed her eyes at her sister. “Are you poking fun?”
“Me? No such thing.”
Luanna gave Tyra another hard stare before turning her back on them.
“What was that all about?” Raine whispered.
“It’s important that Luanna make a dash at court.” Tyra frowned. “Mother explained it to me. Something about Lulu going to waste at Sea Watch and making a good match. I think court is dull—all Lulu and her friends do is practice their dance steps and stitchery, and gossip—but I want my sister to be happy.”
“Does your mother have someone in mind for Luanna?”
“I think she’s hoping Carr will make an offer.”
“But Carr likes you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“Carr thinks me a hopeless baggage. Told me so yesterday in Trofellan Square.”
“Which reminds me of something,” Raine said. “How did you know that monster wouldn’t hurt you? Are there rock bears at Sea Watch?”
“Of course, not.” Tyra shrugged. “I just knew.”
“But Carr didn’t know. He was frightened. You could have been killed.”
“Rubbish. I was in no danger.” Tyra lifted her head. “Look, our carriage is here.”
The rowan had arranged for his guests to be transported from the castle to the games, and carriages, wagons, and equipages of all shapes and sizes wound from the foot of the steps to the gates of the fast.
“Miladies,” Mauric said, helping them into a pumpkin-shaped shandry with a rounded top.
He paused, looking around the bailey as though in search of someone, and sprang up beside them.
“She’s not here, Ric,” Tyra said. “She and the Trivan set out on foot at first light. I heard them discussing it last night as we were leaving the hall.” She slid her sister a look. “The Durngesi aren’t afraid to walk.”
“It’s more than four lea
gues from Rowan Fast to the stadium,” Luanna said, “and we are wearing slippers.”
“Not I.” Tyra lifted her skirts to reveal a pair of worn hunting boots.
“Tyra.” Luanna gave a horrified gasp. “You look a perfect bumpkin. What will Felka and Lylla think?”
“Pshaw, as though I care a rush about them. I don’t know what you see in them, Lulu. If you think they’re your friends, you’re mistaken.”
“They’ve been nothing but nice to me.”
Tyra put her hands on her hips. “To your face, perhaps, but they’ve been horrid to Raine.”
Luanna’s soft mouth formed a stubborn line. “I haven’t heard them say anything unkind about Raine.”
“They wouldn’t say anything in front of you, goose. They know you’re friends with Raine, and they have eyes for Mauric.”
“Do they?” Mauric grinned. “The darlings.”
“They are not darlings,” Tyra said. “They’re spiteful and wicked, and you’d best have a care.”
“Not to worry,” Mauric said. “I’m a rounder, but I’m not so prick-led that I’d dally with the queen’s ladies.”
“Mauric,” Luanna said, blushing. “Your language. Lady Raine will be shocked.”
“Lady Raine has heard worse. You forget she’s been around Gertie these past few moons.”
Luanna took another tack. “But, Tyra, what about your lovely gown? Those boots aren’t becoming.”
“Raine’s wearing boots, too.”
Luanna gasped. “Raine, you didn’t.”
Ruefully, Raine lifted the hem of her skirt to show Luanna her old boots.
“They’re horrible,” Luanna cried. “Worse than Tyra’s. That’s it. I wash my hands of both of you.”
“Much we care,” Tyra said. “Our feet ain’t going to hurt. What’s more, we don’t have to worry about stepping in something hot and squishy.”
Luanna gave a delicate shudder. “Make her stop, Ric. I shall simply die if she mentions dung in front of the queen.”
“Gog scat,” Tyra said. “I’ll wager the queen knows animals make droppings. Tell you a secret, Lulu. Humans do, too.”
“Mauu-riic,” Lulu wailed.
Mauric gave Raine a long-suffering look. “Be thankful your sister is in Shad Amar.”
It was a beautiful day, and the sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue. The streets were jammed with people headed to the games, but they quickly made way for the rowan’s carriages. They left the Bear Gate and turned east. In the weeks since Raine’s arrival, Finlara had burst into bloom. Primroses and violets carpeted the fields outside the city, and the air was heady with perfume. In the distance was the stadium, a soaring oval edifice some thirty stories high, erected by a crew of giants and ogres.
“Put it up and take it down, every spring,” Mauric said. “The rowan enlisted their help when the old stadium was torn down. It would have taken an army of men the better part of a year to do the job. The big ʼuns do it in a fortnight.”
“Why not leave it up, then?”
“Giants are restless in the spring and can be destructive. The stadium gives the big fellows something to do.”
“Does the rowan pay them?”
“Give giants and ogres money?” Mauric regarded her in astonishment. “What would they do with it?”
Raine thought of Tiny’s hide kilt and worn sandals. “Giants and ogres need clothing and food, too.”
“Bah, the rowan recognizes them at the games. That’s enough.”
Raine heard the rumble of voices rising from the enclosure as they approached. Half a league from the arena, the carriage came to a halt.
Mauric jumped down. “The road’s jammed with people and wagons,” he said, holding out his hand to Luanna. “I’m sorry, Lulu, but we’ll have to walk the rest of the way, or we’ll miss the opening ceremony.”
“Mind your slippers,” Tyra said, alighting on her own. “With this many oxen and horses, there’s sure to be muck.”
Luanna turned up her nose. “I refuse to spend this glorious day discussing manure. Please do not mention it again.”
“But, Lulu—”
“I mean it, Tyra. One more word about excrement, and I shall—” Luanna did a little jig. “Oh, oh. I stepped in something. It’s on my shoe.”
Mauric grinned. “It’s that thing you told Ty not to mention.”
“Yes,” Tyra said. “I tried to tell you.”
Luanna glared at her siblings and stomped off.
“I did try to warn her,” Tyra said as Raine stepped out of the carriage. “You heard me, Ric.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Look,” said Raine, noticing a large man coming toward them. “There are Gurnst and Chaz.”
“Morning, Rainey,” Chaz said. “The games are going to be prime.”
“Yes,” Raine said. “We’ve been invited to sit with the rowan.”
“I don’t want to sit with the rowan. I want to sit with Gurnst. Gurnst says the rowdies in the common seats are loads more fun than a passel of velvety do-nothings.”
Gurnst coughed. “Easy lad. I’ve seats at the south gate. Birgit stayed home with the tyke, so Chaz is welcome to sit with me, if that’s a’ right with you.”
“Of course.” Raine gave Chaz a hug. “Have fun, and I’ll see you tonight. I have a present for you.”
Chaz grinned. “Thanks, Rainey. You’re the best.”
He waved goodbye and headed toward the south gate with Gurnst. Mauric, Tyra, and Raine made their way through the excited crowd to the north gate. Cook fires were sprinkled around the arena, and vendors stood over grills and pots preparing food to sell to the hungry mob. The air was thick with the odors of sausages and onions, roast chicken, hot pastries, chowder, and fried fish.
They entered the stadium and climbed the stairs to the rowan’s private gallery.
Mauric looked around. “Where’s Luanna? She should be here by now.”
“Probably in the privy trying to get muck off her shoe,” said Tyra.
Leaving Mauric and Tyra to speculate on their sister’s whereabouts, Raine strolled to the rail to get a peek at the arena. The field was half again the size of a football field, and the stands were jammed with people, Kronlings…and ghosts. The dead had shown up in large numbers, and the Headless Host were seated together near the south gate. One of the specters grinned and lifted his head in salutation. Raine gave him a finger wave. If the humans sensed the presence of the ghosts, they gave no indication, though, in many cases, the living and the dead occupied the same space. It was weird, seeing a bloody ghost superimposed on a human, but the humans seemed oblivious. The dogged Finlaran denial of the supernatural, Raine supposed.
One end of the stadium was reserved for the monsters. In addition to oversized seats for the giants and ogres, and special perches for the fairies, stalls had been provided for the four-legged varieties. Raine spotted Gowyr in a stall. The unicorn was expounding. The centaur beside him had a glazed look, and the chimera to Gowyr’s left glared at the fusty unicorn, but he was undeterred.
“Here she is,” Mauric said. “Where the devil have you been, Lulu?”
Raine turned and saw Luanna hurry up the stairs.
“They wouldn’t let me in, Ric,” Luanna said tearfully, “so I went back to look for you.”
“That’s because you don’t have the queen’s marker, goose.”
Mauric opened a tiny gold box. Nestled inside on a square of silk was a single lustrous pearl. Mauric handed the pearl to the brawny warrior, and the guard parted the curtains and waved them into the royal box.
Carved wooden columns supported the walls and roof of the gallery, providing privacy for the rowan and his guests. Plush carpets lined the floor, and the rough-hewn walls and ceiling were covered in gray silk stamped with the rowan’s crest—an argent and sable
shield bearing a snarling bear on one side and troll paws on the other. A table along one side of the space was laden with food and drink: trenchers of roasted meats, mounds of fruit, loaves of crusty bread, an assortment of pastries and other sweets, salted and sugared nuts, cheeses, cold ale and wine. A three-tiered semicircle of cushioned black and silver chairs provided seating for the rowan’s guests and their retainers. Situated in the middle of the arena slightly above and over the crowd, the rowan’s box provided a perfect view of the field below.
The box was filled with chattering ladies and gentlemen in colorful finery. Several women wore outrageous, towering hats, blocking the view of the unfortunates behind them. The assembled guests looked up when they entered. A cluster of young damsels in the back row tittered loudly and whispered behind their hands, their mocking glances in Raine’s direction clearly indicating the object of their malice.
“There’s Felka,” Luanna said, hurrying to join them.
“I don’t understand what Lulu sees in those shrews.” Tyra scanned the remaining seats. “What a crush. Where shall we sit?”
“With me, I hope.” Queen Balzora patted the empty seats next to her on the front row. “Lady Raine, won’t you and Lady Tyra join me?”
Raine gave the diminutive queen a grateful smile. “Yes, thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Ho, look at Felka,” Tyra murmured as Mauric guided them to their seats. “She’s swallowed a prune. We’ve Queen Balzora’s notice, and that’s soured the mean old cat.”
Mauric bowed to Queen Balzora and brought them glasses of chilled wine.
“Thank you, Jargrave Lindar,” Balzora said, accepting a glass from him.
“You are most welcome, Your Majesty.”
Mauric bowed again and went to stand by the door.
“Your brother is a remarkably handsome man, Lady Tyra,” Balzora said. “Is he pledged to anyone?”
“No, Your Majesty. Will you excuse me? I need to say something to him.”
Tyra rose and walked over to Mauric.
“Very handsome, indeed,” Balzora said, considering Mauric with a thoughtful expression. “Why is he standing over there, instead of with us?”
A Muddle of Magic Page 31