Bells of the Kingdom (Children of the Desert Book 3) (34 page)

Beside him, Alyea was practically invisible.

Oruen’s startled stare quickly hardened into a glare. Deiq met it without apparent concern, smiling a little.

Idisio,
he said.
Has anyone hurt you or been rude?

I’m fine.

That isn’t what I asked.

Alyea, as though she were the only person of worth in the room, strode to stand in front of the throne. “Lord Sessin,” she said, chin high. “Lord Oruen. Idisio.”

Gazes shifted from Deiq to Alyea, gaining more than a slight tinge of amusement.

She doesn’t quite understand yet, does she?
someone said.

No,
Deiq answered.
I’m working on it.

Might want to hurry on that a bit.

Alyea was staring directly at Idisio now, as though waiting for an answer, and Deiq’s black stare was fixed on him as well.

“Lord Alyea,” Idisio muttered. “Deiq. Glad you’re here.”

You didn’t answer my question,
Deiq said, his stare hardening.

Pahenna,
Idisio retorted, not entirely sure where he drew the word from, or even what it meant, but somehow knowing it to be the appropriate language.
I can handle myself, thank you!

Which is why you’re standing in front of a king and multiple desert lords, all of whom are looking at you like you’ve stolen the king’s drawers?
Deiq inquired tartly.

“May I present my escort, Deiq of Stass,” Alyea said. Idisio heard a stifled snort from one of the other desert lords. Alyea appeared oblivious to the amusement her attitude was causing. “You’ve already met Idisio, I see. He’s ... under the protection of Peysimun Family.”

“And mine,” Deiq said promptly, which drained the half-smiles from the faces around them.
Answer the question, Idisio,
he added.
It’s important. Did they hurt you? Were they rude?

Nobody hurt me,
Idisio said.
I handled the rudeness. Leave it alone.

No. Not this time. You need their respect.

Let me earn it myself, then!

You don’t know how. And
don’t
try telling me to teach you right
now
!

“Welcome to my court once again,
s’e,”
King Oruen said, blatantly insincere. Idisio felt Deiq’s volatile temper darken even further.

Lord Sessin cleared his throat.
Deiq,
he said, his mental tone considerably calmer than the elder ha’ra’ha’s,
let me handle this. Please.
Aloud, he said, “I think, as we’re reasonably alone here, it’s time to drop the nonsense, Lord Oruen. You know who—and what—Deiq is.”

You’re being too damn nice, Eredion,
Deiq said.

I’m doing my job.

Then make sure Idisio gets the respect he deserves.

Lord Sessin flicked a fast, startled glance at Idisio, then looked back to Deiq.
He really is a ha’ra’ha?

Yes. He really is.

Ah, damnit.
Eredion met Idisio’s gaze squarely, and his next words were aimed at Idisio alone.
My apologies for earlier, ha’inn. It’s been a confused time of late. I’ll make it up to you—

“Yes. You’re right,” the king said grudgingly. “My apologies,
ha’inn.”
He flicked a glance at Alyea, as though checking to see if she knew the word; she stared back, blank-faced, giving nothing away.

“‘Honored One’,” Deiq said. “I do like the sound of that.”

Idisio couldn’t tell if he had translated the word for Alyea’s benefit or to irritate the king by emphasizing his superior status. Whatever the intent, neither the king nor Alyea looked particularly happy.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Lord Sessin said dryly.
Stop poking the hornet’s nest, Deiq,
he added silently. “And I believe you owe Idisio the same courtesy, actually.”

“Are you telling me a
ha’ra’ha
tried to pick Lord Scratha’s pocket?” Oruen exclaimed.

Alyea turned to stare at Idisio, her expression a mix of outrage and astonishment, then shot a deeply suspicious glare at Deiq, as though sharply reassessing her trust in him. Deiq returned the glare in kind; she blanched, then flushed and dropped her gaze as though in mute apology.

Don’t let her push you around, either,
Deiq told Idisio.
Especially not in front of this crowd. You stand your ground, you hear me? I’ll make Scratha look like a playmate if you embarrass yourself here.

How come you never took him to task over the way he treated me in the beginning?
Idisio demanded, glowering.

Just because you don’t see something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,
Deiq retorted.
I had a talk with him, believe me. Now pay attention. There are too many desert lords in the room for us to indulge in an extended private conversation.

Aloud, Deiq said, “So what is important enough to bring four full lords and two trainees all the way into Bright Bay?”

Idisio withdrew into himself, feeling more than a little sullen. Deiq seemed to expect Idisio to stand up for himself while at the same time treating him as barely above incompetent. It was getting irritating.

Stand up straight,
Deiq said, the words very nearly a mental slap.
You’re acting like a scolded child. Stand up!

“How much does she know about what really happened with Ninnic?” Lord Sessin asked, glancing uneasily at Alyea. Idisio had the feeling that he’d really have preferred to ask the question privately.

He should have,
Deiq snapped.
But I was busy talking to
you
, and keeping everyone
else
from hearing you, so he couldn’t.
Aloud, he said, “I have no idea. Ask her.”

“You mean the mad ha’ra’ha who was controlling Ninnic,” Alyea said. “Yes, Lord Evkit told me about that.”

Oh, gods,
Idisio thought, horrified.
That’s where the voices came from. That’s what was driving people crazy all over town.
He’d really thought it came from something dumped in the wells by Rosin’s sadistic followers.
But then why didn’t
I
ever hear the voices?

That’s one of the questions I’d very much like answered once we get to Arason,
Deiq said.
At a guess, someone put a protection round you: ha’rethe or ha’ra’ha, more than likely—and it must have been one of your parents, for it to take so well and last so long.

Lord Sessin said, “Did Evkit tell you we had to kill it?”

Idisio felt as though every drop of his blood drained to his feet.
We had to kill it? We?
He was standing in the presence of men who knew how to
kill ha’ra’hain?

That’s why you don’t flinch around them,
Deiq snapped.
So stop looking like you’re about to piss yourself!

“He didn’t say
who
was involved,” Alyea said, glancing at Idisio with a worried expression. “I believe you had good reason, though.”

“Idisio, you’re in no danger from us,” Lord Sessin said hastily. “This was an extremely exceptional situation.”

“And you’re not going mad,” Deiq added, more likely to reassure the king and Alyea than for Idisio’s sake. “Believe me, Idisio, I would know. Probably long before you did.”

So ha’ra’hain go mad often?
Idisio demanded, shivering.
This is something you’re good at spotting?
If he’d been speaking aloud, his voice would have scaled up to a squeak by the last word.

Deiq shook his head, delivered another severe glare, and pointedly turned his attention back to the audible conversation. Idisio tried to pay attention; noticed that the king seemed unable to take his gaze from Alyea for any length of time, and rapidly assessed the man’s fascination as more politically than emotionally based. Alyea, for her part, seemed intent on proving herself the equal of any man in the room, much to everyone’s poorly hidden amusement.

Lord Filin kept a calculating eye on Alyea as well, and
his
words were aimed at making himself look stronger and smarter than the other men in the room:
Mating behavior,
Idisio thought vaguely, not entirely sure why Alyea’s presence seemed to be polarizing the room.

She’s a new desert lord,
Eredion said mildly.
That generally brings on... certain changes.
He cleared his throat and went back to the vocal discussion without further explanation; Idisio, taking another look at the way the men were all covertly watching Alyea, discovered he didn’t really need clarification after all.

As I’m hearing it,
Riss said in memory,
it’s not going to be a matter of choice.

Idisio blinked and looked at his toes, ferociously blocking his mind to utter blankness; he did
not
want Alyea knowing what he was thinking at the moment, let alone Deiq.

“I found something unexpected when I started cleaning the underground areas,” Eredion said, his voice tightening; Idisio seized on that as a cue to put his full attention on the conversation. Eredion seemed... embarrassed by something, and more than a little frightened. “Some
one,
actually—”

“Oh, how tactful,” Lord Filin snorted, crossing his arms.

“I’ll admit the term might be a bit shaky at the moment,” Eredion said, and his mind went blank with the same abrupt finality that Idisio had used to fend Deiq off, dropping a hollow flatness into his voice as he went on. “But it serves the moment. The child had kept someone alive down there in its lair. I still don’t know how, or why, or who; the moment I opened the door it—she—attacked me. I wasn’t expecting it.” He scratched his cheek and avoided their gazes; even with his mind blocked off, the next words clearly embarrassed him tremendously: “I went down. Blacked out. And when I got up, she was gone.”

Now
Deiq’s
mind went opaque, so firmly that if Idisio shut his eyes, he couldn’t tell Deiq even stood there. A chill ran down his back: on a dark night, he’d never sense Deiq coming.

Could the desert lords around them do the same trick? Was that how they—

Not as well,
Eredion said, his jaw tight.
But you’re being a bit loud, I’m afraid.

Idisio hurriedly hauled himself under control and directed his attention to the voices around him again.

“She seems drawn to the graveyard at the edge of town,” Eredion was saying aloud, “which is where we set a trap last night—and caught
him.”
He jerked his chin at Idisio.

“There was a certain amount of confusion over his identity,” Filin said with a pompous deliberation, as though trying to sound more refined in contrast to Eredion’s plainer speech. “While we were standing around arguing, the creature—”

“Woman,” Eredion murmured, which set Idisio into another round of internal questioning: if the
creature
they described was ha’ra’ha, which increasingly seemed likely, then Filin’s insistence on using
it
rather than
she
opened up a new pit in front of Idisio.

What if I’m only male because... I’ve never thought of myself any other way?
Suddenly, Deiq’s comment that Idisio would grow out of his heterosexual preference took on a new, and dreadful, implication.

No,
Deiq said.
You’re male. I’ll explain all that another time. Pay attention!

Idisio chewed his bottom lip and made himself concentrate on the conversation, listening to the spats and the maneuverings and the half-truths being traded. His guess that the creature—the woman—who’d attacked last night had been a ha’ra’ha proved out, which did nothing to set his mind at ease. Neither did Eredion’s awkwardness as he said, “It’s not hurting anyone, it’s not feeding—anymore....”

Deiq’s glower could have melted iron. Eredion faltered into silence; a moment later, just as Alyea began asking questions about that term, Idisio felt a thundering pressure
whomp
through his hindbrain, leaving him dizzy and breathless for a moment.

Not now,
Deiq said from somewhere infinitely far away. The pressure dissipated as fast as it had built, and Idisio shook his head, blinking hard and disoriented.

“Well, never mind,” Eredion said, looking oddly green about the ears. “Right now, the woman is searching for something.”

Idisio lost the next words under another, softer haze of dizziness; muddled in and out of coherency, and finally pulled his vision and hearing straight in time to hear Deiq say, “Idisio, why were you out in the middle of the night? In the middle of a rainstorm, no less?”

“I just... I had to get some air,” Idisio said, wishing he could get out of this room and do that now. “I felt so hot, and restless, and I wanted to walk the streets alone, the way I used to.”
The way I’d like to do right now.
“I don’t know. I felt... called. Drawn. Like something wanted me to come out of the house.”

“You shouldn’t have felt our bait-call,” Eredion said. “Not that far away. What did it feel like?”

Bait-call? They’d been trying to trap him? No, wait—they’d been after something else. They’d been after... that woman in white, and there was something Idisio wanted to think about regarding her, but a sudden pressure sent him back into the moment’s reality and away from thinking anything through.

“Like someone was riffling through my mind,” he said. “My memories. I couldn’t seem to stop it.”

“That definitely wasn’t us,” Eredion said, looking alarmed.

“No,” Deiq said. “That was the ha’ra’ha woman you’re after. She seems to have taken an interest in you, Idisio. I wonder why.”

Idisio shut his eyes and wondered, for his part, why that statement rang completely false in his ears. Deiq
knew
something, and wasn’t telling—which didn’t surprise Idisio in the least; but all the evasions were getting
aggravating.

In a back corner of his mind, he heard Deiq’s sour laughter.

Get used to it,
the elder ha’ra’ha said.
It’s all in the way of things, Idisio: telling the truth will only get you killed, nine times out of ten, around the humans... and you generally don’t want them to tell you any real truth, either. You’ll learn.

And don’t ha’ra’hain ever tell the truth to one another?
Idisio shot back.