The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses)

by Shinn, Sharon

  “So, when do we leave?” Valri asked. “Tomorrow morning? I can be packed tonight by midnight.”

  Kirra studied her feet. “I won’t be able to leave for a few more days,” she said, elaborately casual. “But you don’t have to wait for me.”

  “And why is that?” Romar asked.

  “I told you. Ariane’s granddaughter is sick. I think I need to stay until I’m sure she’s well. In case there’s—something more I can do for her.” So I can change her back from a dog.

  Cammon’s strange eyes were on her face. “I’ll wait with you,” he said. “So you don’t have to travel back alone.”

  She smiled at him. He had to wait with her; she wasn’t sure she could do this by herself. “That’s kind of you.”

  “The rest of us then,” Valri said. “Tomorrow?”

  “I can’t,” Romar said, and Kirra’s heart skipped a beat. He would manufacture some excuse to linger at Rappen Manor a few more days, and they could travel back to Ghosenhall together. She hadn’t allowed herself to hope for that possibility; she knew he was eager to stay with his niece’s entourage. “I could go the following day, though, if you all want to wait.”

  Kirra’s little flare of excitement died and she kept her eyes down so he wouldn’t see her disappointment. Senneth asked, “What keeps you here another night?”

  “I’ve been invited to attend a dinner. Apparently there’s no Shadow Ball in Rappengrass, but something not too dissimilar. The marlady’s vassals and a few friends gather at a dinner party the night after the ball, so they can discuss everything the nobles said and did and what effect all this saying and doing might have on their own lives. I’ve been to a couple of the Shadow Balls, and it seems to please the Thirteenth House. So I said I would go to this as well.”

  “I don’t think you should,” Cammon said.

  There was a short pause, full of enough portentous silence that even the Riders, conferring a few feet away, turned their heads to stare. Romar looked annoyed, but Kirra could see that Senneth’s face wore an expression very like her own, full of tension and dread.

  “Cam,” Senneth said in a quiet voice, “why shouldn’t the regent attend this dinner?”

  “I think somebody wants to kill him.”

  Amalie gasped; Valri straightened up and looked severe. Senneth motioned the Riders over and they dropped to their knees on the edges of the blanket.

  “What’s wrong?” Tayse asked.

  “Lord Romar says he’s been invited to a dinner party tomorrow, hosted by some of Ariane’s vassals,” Senneth said concisely. “Cammon says he shouldn’t go because someone wants to kill him.”

  “How can he possibly know something like that?” Romar demanded, vexed.

  “If Cammon says it, it’s true,” Justin said.

  “Uncle, you can’t go,” Amalie said, putting her hand on his sleeve. “Leave with us tomorrow morning.”

  Tayse kept his dark eyes on Cammon’s face. “Do you know who wants to kill him?”

  Cammon shook his head. “No. It’s just this feeling.” He glanced around the circle of alarmed or doubting faces. “You know I said something the other day. That I didn’t think he was safe. But not until he mentioned this dinner did it seem—did I know—I can just tell. There’s something wrong. Something’s been planned. For the dinner.”

  “Uncle Romar, you can’t go,” Amalie said more urgently.

  “She’s right. He can’t,” Tayse said.

  Romar shifted impatiently on the blanket. “I appreciate your concern. I find it hard to believe Cammon could—but I’ll take him at his word. I’ll be cautious. I’ll bring Colton and—”

  “Not good enough,” Tayse said.

  “Still,” Senneth said thoughtfully. “If he went, forewarned, and someone tried to murder him, and we could stop it—we’d learn who among the Thirteenth House is plotting against the king.”

  “If you could stop it,” Valri said. “But could you?”

  “Tayse and I go dressed in Merrenstow colors as his personal guard,” Justin said. “Senneth, too.”

  “Me,” Cammon said. “I could tell when someone was approaching him with a weapon in hand. Well, probably I could.”

  Tayse shook his head. “Still not good enough. We’d be in the courtyard or out in the hallway. Too far to help.”

  “I’ll go,” Kirra said quietly. “Shaped as Lord Romar. Whoever is plotting against him will try to kill me instead.”

  Now they were all staring at her.

  “No,” Romar said before anyone else could speak.

  But Tayse was nodding. “That’s a good plan.”

  “How is that a good plan?” Romar exclaimed. “The woman can’t even hold a weapon! She can’t defend herself! Someone approaches her with a sword—or throws a dagger at her—”

  “She changes,” Senneth said. “She’s a hawk. The blade never touches her.”

  “What if she’s not fast enough?”

  “Put chain mail on under her clothes,” Tayse said. “It will turn a knife aside long enough for her to alter.”

  “If the knife is aimed at her heart! What if it is aimed at her throat? Or her head?”

  “I think I can outmaneuver it long enough to escape,” Kirra said.

  Romar was shaking his head. “No. No. You think it’s too dangerous for me to go, fine, I won’t go. But don’t send Kirra, either. Let the whole Thirteenth House rise up in rebellion, but don’t send someone else toward assassination in my place.”

  Kirra laughed. “I won’t be assassinated.”

  He looked at her, and the naked terror in his eyes struck her to the heart. “I could not bear it if you died,” he said quietly.

  Tayse rested his big hands on his knees. “It’s up to Kirra,” he said. “I think Senneth’s right. This is an ideal opportunity for us to discover who among the Thirteenth House is allied against the king. But it is risky, even with the rest of us in place.”

  “I’ll go,” Kirra said. “I want to.”

  “No,” Romar said. “If anyone goes, it’s me.”

  Tayse gave him a stern, heavy look. “Regent, you cannot be risked. You are too valuable.”

  “So is Kirra!”

  “I would hate to lose her, but it would be a personal loss for me, for her friends, for her family,” said Tayse. “If you were killed, it would be a blow to the kingdom. This is what it means to be one step away from the throne, lord. That you cannot always fight your own battles. That your life matters more than another’s.”

  “It doesn’t,” Romar said. “Not more than Kirra’s.”

  “I want to do this,” Kirra said, smiling at the whole lot of them. Amalie looked terrified, Valri uncertain, and Romar was stiff with protest, but the other four were watching her with trust and approval. They were not afraid for her, just as none of them feared for themselves. “I think it will be fun.”

  “ ‘Fun,’” Romar repeated, and shook his head again. “No, no, no, as often as I have to say it, no.”

  Justin was watching him steadily. “Is it because she’s a woman?” the Rider asked.

  “What? No! Well—maybe,” Romar said, risking a quick glance at Kirra. She could read that look. It is because she’s the woman I love. “Partly.”

  “Because, no offense, lord, but if I had to choose one of you to be on my side in a fight, I would pick Kirra,” Justin said. Astonishment made Kirra’s mouth fall open, but he wasn’t done yet. “You’re not a bad swordsman. I’d trust you at my back, but Kirra is clever. And she’s got a range of skills you simply don’t possess. And nothing frightens her. If we’re going to send someone to this dinner in your place, Kirra’s the one to send.”

  “And I think we send someone,” Senneth added.

  “I’m not sure,” Amalie said.

  Senneth gave the princess one long, unsmiling look. “Majesty, you know we could be headed toward war. What we learn tomorrow night may help avert it. Isn’t it better to risk one life than to see thousands cut dow
n in fighting?”

  “I’m going to go,” Kirra said. “It’s up to the rest of you to keep the regent from following me and spoiling the adventure.”

  “We’ll assign Coeval and Hammond to hold on to him,” Tayse said with a glimmering of a smile. “The rest of us will be with you.”

  THAT wasn’t the end of it, of course. There was more than a full day, and night, to get through before the vassals’ dinner party, and Romar used almost every minute of those intervening hours to try to change Kirra’s mind. He followed her from the gardens, arguing. At the ball, he danced with her half the night, still arguing. When she came to his room late that night, he spent more time trying to convince her to abandon this plan than he did making love to her.

  “I should hold you here by force,” he said finally as he lay beside her in bed, gazing at her by candlelight. “Tie you to the bedpost. Keep you here until that damned dinner is over. I should never have mentioned it.”

  She sat up, holding the blanket to her chest, and laughed at him. “Do you really think it is possible to keep me against my will?” she demanded. “Don’t you realize that I can turn into any shape I desire and free myself? My stepmother despaired of me when I was a child because it was impossible to punish me. I couldn’t be locked in my room. I would not sit still for a beating. No one has ever been able to control me. And you will not be able to do it now.”

  He leaned forward, buried his head against her shoulder. “I am so afraid for you,” he whispered. “You are so reckless. And even if I could prevent you from risking yourself tomorrow night, there will be nights after that, and after that, that you do foolish things and I will be helpless to stop you. I love you. I want to keep you safe. I am used to being able to command men and shelter women. I cannot accustom myself to the fact that you will not accept my protection.”

  She slipped a hand under his chin and tilted his face up. “I never will,” she said. “I do not want to be protected. I do not want to be sheltered. I am not helpless, and I will not be held.”

  “Then what can I do?” he whispered.

  She leaned down and kissed him. “Just love me for what I am.”

  CHAPTER 36

  THE day after the ball passed languidly and with a great deal of boredom. Most of the other nobles were involved in elaborate leave-takings of their own, loading up coaches and saying their farewells, so the front courtyard was a constant jumble of activity. Kirra passed a quiet couple of hours on the third floor of the manor, watching Lyrie alternately sleep and play. Her fur was developing a healthy shine; her pointed black nose was cool when she nuzzled Kirra’s hand.

  “Still improving?” she asked Marco.

  He nodded. “Visibly. Every day. Every hour.”

  Kirra was idly scratching Lyrie’s stomach, since the little spaniel was on her back before the mystic and they were all disposed on the floor. “I don’t know how I can conceal this magic,” Kirra said slowly. “I don’t know how I can save this one life, and know how to save hundreds of others, and not do it.”

  Marco watched her. “Are you afraid of what people will think of Lyrie if they find out she was cured by magic? I don’t care. Tell anyone.”

  “There will be a taint on her,” Kirra warned. “Enough people distrust magic that they will distrust people who have been touched by it.”

  “I don’t care,” he said again.

  “But it is not even her I am thinking about so much,” Kirra said. “I am thinking about how much people already fear mystics, and how this will exacerbate the fear. And I am weighing that against the other lives I know I could save. And I am trying to decide what to do.”

  “Save the lives,” Marco said without hesitation.

  Kirra ruffled Lyrie’s soft fur. “I have not saved her yet.”

  “No,” Marco said. “But you will.”

  IN the evening, they all gathered in the Riders’ room, just down the hall from Kirra’s. Romar had lent them Merrenstow livery, one set even big enough for Tayse to wear, and Tayse, Justin, Senneth, and Cammon had arrayed themselves suitably. Romar had been consigned to the care of Coeval, and Hammond had been left to guard Amalie.

  “Not ideal,” Tayse admitted. “But I told Romar that he could help protect Amalie by spending the evening with her while we were out, adding his own sword and Coeval’s to her protection. That seemed to comfort him, and he said he would do it.”

  Both Tayse and Justin looked indefinably different to Kirra when, instead of the black and gold of Ghosenhall, they wore the checkered black and white of Merrenstow. They looked less ferocious, a little more tame.

  A misperception, Kirra knew.

  By contrast, Cammon looked no more like a soldier than he ever did, even in a set of clothing that fit him much better than his usual ragged trousers and shirt. Senneth had trimmed his hair, so it actually fell with some neatness around his face, and he wore the requisite weaponry, but he just didn’t hold himself like a soldier.

  “You’re the one they’re going to go for first if anyone starts picking off Romar’s men,” she told him.

  He grinned. “Good. I think I can surprise them.”

  Senneth, oddly, looked just the same. It didn’t matter what Senneth wore, Kirra reflected—a ballgown, traveling clothes, a guard’s uniform—she looked purposeful and strange. Not precisely dangerous, not the way the Riders were, but unusual enough to make a man think twice before accosting her.

  “All of us are ready,” Senneth said pointedly. “What about you?”

  Kirra laughed. She was still herself, still wearing a summer gown and allowing her hair to fall unbound down her back. “I came to get that chain mail Tayse promised me. Then I’ll go to my room and change. Then we can leave.”

  Cammon was watching out the window. “The carriage just pulled up.”

  “All right. Give me a few minutes.” Tayse handed her a man-sized vest of interlocking metal circles, so heavy she almost dropped it to the floor. “Oh, this will be fun to wear all night.”

  “I think you’d better,” he said seriously. “Magic is well and good when you have a moment to prepare, but chain mail will keep you alive when you’re taken by surprise.”

  “Five minutes,” she said, and hurried down the hall to her room.

  Melly wasn’t there since Kirra had expressly sent her away for this particular hour. She had a feeling Melly would be about as enthusiastic about this enterprise as Romar had been, and she didn’t feel like another argument. Anyway, she didn’t need help changing in and out of these clothes. She stripped off her dress, stepped into simple leggings and a cotton shirt, and settled the chain mail over her chest. Damn, but its weight made it hard to breathe. She resisted the temptation to convert it into something lighter, less restrictive; she respected its abilities as much as she respected her own.

  And then she stood in front of her mirror and changed herself into her lover.

  The intelligent, restless face; the brown eyes; the dark gold hair, tied back with a black ribbon. All these were as familiar to her as her own features, her own skin. The well-muscled body that was such a pleasure to touch—that she could manufacture, too, without a moment’s difficulty. She dressed him in formal black, with touches of the Merrenstow checkerboard at his throat and pocket.

  By the Red Lady’s burning hand, he was her idea of the perfect man. She could stand here and stare all night, in love with her own reflection.

  A last lingering look, then she spun on her heel and strode out into the hall, automatically adopting Romar’s stance and gait. At the door to the Riders’ room, she paused a moment, hand upon the knob. Then she smiled, and knocked instead.

  Justin opened the door, but she brushed past him before he could speak. She addressed the whole room in Romar’s voice. “Is there anything else you need from me before you set off on this ill-judged adventure?” she asked. They all stared at her, uncertain. Well, Cammon was trying very hard not to laugh. Obviously he had not been fooled. “Or have you changed your mind
s? Where’s Kirra?”

  “She’s down the hall, lord,” Senneth said. “Preparing for her part.”

  She pivoted for the door. “Then perhaps I’ll check with her.”

  Justin moved without much subtlety to block her exit. “No. Lord. I think it’s best you return to Amalie’s room and let us finish our preparations on our own.”

  “I just wanted to wish her luck,” she told him impatiently.

  “She’s got us. She doesn’t need luck,” Justin said with a little smile.

  She swung back to face the others, carefully avoiding looking at Cammon. “I could come with you,” she said, as if struck by fresh inspiration. “I’ll stay in the coach. That way, if no danger threatens, Kirra and I can exchange places sometime in the middle of the evening.”