Eye of the Labyrinth (31 page)

He kissed her again, the urgency between them putting an end to further conversation. At some point, her shirt was tossed across the tent. Their trousers and sandals presented something of a hindrance, but somehow they managed to get rid of them without too much difficulty. They stumbled backward in their haste and fell onto the narrow camp bed, which creaked alarmingly under their combined weight.

Tia laughed at the sound as she lay back on the bunk. Dirk bent to kiss her again, and then he stopped suddenly when he spied the necklace he had given her in Bollow nestled between her breasts. With his finger, he lightly traced the V-shaped line on her skin where she was tanned and freckled from long hours in the sun in an open-necked shirt. Then gently, he picked up the little silver bow and arrow. He looked at her curiously. “You’re still wearing it.”

“And you thought I was unromantic.”

With a smile, Dirk let the pendant drop. Tia closed her eyes as she felt his tongue trailing down between her breasts toward her navel. She arched her back with a cry that was caught somewhere between terror and delight and after that, she did not think about much at all, for a long, long time.

Chapter 58

When Tia woke the next morning she was alone, and all the doubts and fears that she had pushed away the night before came crashing down on her like a falling building. She sat up and glanced around. Her clothes were strewn across the tent where they had thrown them in their haste last night, like a silent reprimand.

Dirk’s clothes were gone.

She scrambled off the narrow pallet and hurriedly gathered up her things, cursing all the while under her breath as she got dressed. She emerged into the sunlight to find the fire smoking and the pile of equipment they had gathered the night before missing. Dirk was already in the Labyrinth.

Grabbing one of the few torches left behind, she lit it from the fire and headed off toward the Labyrinth with a purposeful stride. Tia rehearsed what she was going to say, over and over, but it didn’t seem to make much sense.

It’ll sound better when I say it out loud,
she decided as she stepped into the darkness. Things always sounded better when you said them out loud.

When Tia stepped through the last gate into the hall, she stopped suddenly, her eyes wide with wonder. Dirk had been busy. There was a line of torches that stretched away into the distance, slicing the gloom like a sword-cut made of warm yellow light. The ceiling was lost in the gloom, but the golden Eye in the floor reflected the flames unevenly, giving the impression that it was winking at her. The few walls that she could see were covered with elaborate illustrations of circles within circles. There were pictures of creatures she had never seen, so real it was as if they had been captured and stored in miniature behind glass. There were images of cities she was sure could never have existed and, strangest of all, every ten feet or so, a large opaque window was set into the wall, though on closer inspection, it was obvious that even before the eruption, there would have been only solid rock behind them.

Momentarily forgetting why she had come, she walked to the wall on her right and held the torch up for a closer look.

“Now who’s gawping like a country boy on his first trip out of his village?” Dirk asked from behind her.

She squealed with fright at the unexpected voice. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” she cried as she spun around to face him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, relieving her of the torch she was waving wildly between them. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Isn’t this place amazing?”

She stared at him in bewilderment. “Is that all you can say?”

He looked at her with a puzzled expression. “I suppose, if you really want, I could think up a more colorful adjective ...”

She punched his arm impatiently. “I meant about us! About ... what happened ...”

“Ah ...” he said warily. “That.”

“What do you mean ... ah ... that ?”

Dirk regarded her cautiously, and then he nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

He sighed. “I realize you’ve probably come down here to run a blade through me. But you don’t have to worry. It won’t happen again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s just ... well, I mean there’s no future for us really, is there? And it’s not even as if you like me all that much, and ...” He turned away from her, making it impossible to see his face and guess what he was really feeling.

“So it meant nothing to you?” she said to his retreating back.

He did not answer her. He began to walk away.

“Don’t you dare just turn your back on me!”

Dirk turned and retraced the few steps between them cautiously, his eyes the color of dull metal, his mood impossible to fathom in the uncertain torchlight. “It was a mistake, Tia. Look at us. You’re already angry at me.”

“Well, that’s not my fault,” she retorted uncomfortably. “And I’m not angry. It’s just I woke up and you were gone ...”

“So you’re mad at me because I’m an early riser?”

She searched his face for some hint of what he truly felt, but as usual, she had no idea if he was dying a little inside or laughing at her. “I am making such a mess of this, aren’t I?”

He appeared to consider the matter for a moment, and then nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Kiss me, Dirk.”

“Why?”

“Do you need a reason?”

He searched her face doubtfully. “Are you sure about this, Tia?”

In reply, she slid her arms around his neck. He tossed the flickering torch aside and kissed her hesitantly, as if expecting her to pull away. Tia closed her eyes as his doubt gave way. His arms tightened around her, and she found herself pushed up against the wall, all her fears and doubts forgotten ...

“Wow!”

She opened her eyes with a languid smile, not sure what she had done to provoke such an exclamation of awe. But Dirk wasn’t even looking at her. He was staring at the wall behind her.

“Look at this!” he exclaimed excitedly, moving her aside and reaching for the discarded torch.

“Dirk ...”

“This is it! This is how Neris must have worked out when the Age of Shadows would end!”

She stared at him. “But what about? ...”

He was tracing his finger over the mural that, to Tia, looked like nothing more than a whole lot of circles. “He used to draw these circles all the time. This must be the orbit of the two suns of Ranadon.”

A part of Tia was delighted that he had made such an important discovery, but mostly she was irritated by the way he had cast passion aside for something so ... inanimate.

“How can you tell what those circles mean?” she asked, a little petulantly. “More to the point, how did you manage to work it out while you were supposed to be kissing me?”

He glanced at her with a grin. “You must inspire me to great leaps of intuitive reasoning. Like Neris and the poppy-dust.”

“Poppy-dust destroyed Neris,” she reminded him, not sure she liked the idea of being compared to a dangerous narcotic.

“Then it’s a better analogy than I realized,” he chuckled.

Tia rolled her eyes, realizing the futility of arguing with him. “Do you really think this mural is what we’re looking for?”

Dirk moved a little to the left, holding the torch high, tracing the incomprehensible series of diagrams carved into the stone. Then he stopped suddenly and scooped up a handful of shattered stone that lay at the base of the wall and held it up for her examination with a wry smile.

“Behold! The secrets of the second sun of Ranadon,” he said.

“How can you tell?”

Dirk pointed to the wall where he was standing. Tia moved closer to get a better look. The diagrams suddenly stopped, shattered by a gaping hole in the mural. On the floor beneath the hole lay a pile of cracked stone. It looked as if someone had quite deliberately defaced the wall at that point with a sledgehammer.

“This is it. All the phases of the first and second suns,” he explained, pointing to the series of carvings. “And I’ll bet you all the pumice in the Tresna Sea that the ruined section was the part we needed to work out when the next Age of Shadows is due.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because this wall wasn’t damaged by accident.” Dirk suddenly chuckled softly. “Your father has a wicked sense of humor.”

“Care to let me in on the joke?”

“Don’t you see? The whole Labyrinth ... the traps he set ... everything he did to keep Belagren out of here ... It doesn’t matter. None of it matters ...”

“Why?”

“Because there’s nothing here for Belagren to find.”

“You mean Neris destroyed it?”

Dirk nodded. “I have a bad feeling that I could work on these diagrams for the rest of my life and never learn what Neris knows.”

Tia smiled at the delicious irony. “So Belagren spent half a lifetime trying to get into this cavern and it’s useless.” Then her face creased into a frown as another, less pleasant thought occurred to her. “That doesn’t help us much, either, Dirk.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “I won’t know for certain until I’ve had time to study it closely. But I’ll wager there’s little useful information here.”

“So it’s all been a waste of time,” she concluded.

“Maybe not,” he shrugged. “There’s a lot to study ...”

Tia shook her head. “I don’t know why I was worried about you. I mean, it’s not as if we’re ever going to actually spend any time together ever again, now that you’ve got this place to play in.”

He tore his gaze away from the wall long enough to smile at her. “Jealous?”

“Of a wall? I think maybe I am.”

“You can come and distract me every now and then,” he offered.

“I have a bad feeling you’re not that easily distracted, Dirk.” Tia sighed, thinking of a kiss that ended with Dirk getting excited about an ancient mural.

He didn’t answer her. He was too busy studying the damn wall.

Chapter 59

Alenor got an unexpected break from Dorra’s constant surveillance about a week after Kirsh’s departure for Omaxin. Since her husband had left Kalarada, her lady-in-waiting had been particularly vigilant, and had even insisted on accompanying her on her daily ride with the guard. Even Jacinta had not been able to deter her. But thanks to a meal of spoiled shellfish, Dorra and two dozen or more members of the palace staff were trapped in their rooms, looking miserable and pale, not daring to venture too far from the garderobes.

Most of the victims were Senetian. Shellfish was considered a delicacy of Senet, a dish the Dhevynians had never really embraced. There were lots of recriminations, of course, and angry mutterings about the stupidity of the Dhevynian palace chefs— at whose feet the Senetians firmly laid the blame for their illness. The mood in the palace was quietly buoyant, as not only the queen, but most of her staff, suddenly found themselves free of Senetian interference, even if only for a few days.

Alexin came to visit her as soon as he heard of the epidemic. For once, Alenor did not have to justify his admittance or find an excuse to be alone with him. Dimitri Bayel simply announced him and left.

“Dimitri seems rather jovial this morning,” Alexin remarked, as the Lord Seneschal closed the door on his way out. “I swear he almost whistled on the way here.”

“Almost every Senetian in the palace is bent over the garderobes this morning,” Jacinta told him happily. “I really must speak to the cooks. It was such a good idea to serve shellfish at dinner last night.”

“I’d be careful if I were you, Lady Jacinta,” he warned with a smile. “They might start to think we’re deliberately trying to poison them.”

“The idea does have a certain morbid attraction,” she admitted. She put aside her tapestry and rose to her feet. “But for now, I’m going to make the most of this little piece of unexpected sunshine. If you’ll excuse me, your majesty, I have a few things I’d like to take care of.”

“Of course, Jacinta,” said Alenor. “I’ll be all right here with Alexin.”

“Yes, well, if he tries to take advantage of you ... just be quiet about it, will you? Dorra’s got a dreadful headache and I’d hate for her to be unduly disturbed.”

A little embarrassed, Alenor smiled as Jacinta let herself out of the room, but her good humor faded as all the other problems she currently faced suddenly seemed to crowd in on her.

“You’ve been much happier since Jacinta arrived,” Alexin noted.

“She’s wonderful. She bullies Dorra unmercifully, though. I’m sure they’ll come to blows one day.”

“If they do, my money’s on Jacinta.”

“So is mine,” she agreed. “Have you been able to get a message to ... the others?”

“That’s why I’m here,” he told her. “A certain cousin of mine is here in Kalarada at present. He arrived yesterday. I thought you might want to meet with him.”

“Reithan is
here
?” she gasped.

Alexin nodded. “And with most of your Senetian watch-dogs incapacitated, there’ll never be a safer time to speak with him.”

“When does he want to meet?”

“Now,” Alexin said. “He’ll be gone by first sunrise tonight.”

“I’ll have someone saddle my horse.”

“Already taken care of, your majesty,” he said, offering her his hand. “I took the liberty of informing Lord Bayel that you would be visiting the barracks again this morning to see the colt.”

She smiled at him as she placed her hand in his. “You’re getting a little bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you, Alexin?”

“Just taking advantage of the situation, your majesty.”

“I’m not sure I should be happy that you’re taking advantage of me,” she said lightly, but when she looked at Alexin, suddenly he was not smiling anymore.

“It would be very easy to take advantage of you, Alenor.”

There was something odd in his tone. Something that Alenor suspected shouldn’t be in the voice of a Guardsman addressing his queen. She found she could not meet his eye. “You think I’m a silly girl playing at being queen, don’t you?”

He still had hold of her hand. Gently, he pulled her closer, and lifted her chin with his finger, forcing her to look at him. “I think you’re the most courageous person I know. And I’m not the only one who thinks you’re going to become the best queen Dhevyn’s had in a living memory. Ask Jacinta if you don’t believe me.”

She searched his face for some hint that he was simply flattering her. “But I’m so frightened all the time ...”

“But you still do what you have to, Alenor. That’s what makes you brave. Any fool can plunge ahead fearlessly when they’re too stupid to realize the risk. But when you know what’s at stake, when you realize the danger and you do it anyway, because it has to be done, that’s true courage.”

“Then why does it feel so scary?”

“So you can tell when you’re being brave. Otherwise, how would you know?”

She smiled. “Now you’re teasing me.”

He was still holding her close, much too close for comfort. Alenor suddenly became very aware of him. He was so much taller than she was so that when she lowered her eyes she found herself looking at his lips, which made her think of that day in Nova when she had kissed him ...

“We should get going,” Alexin suggested, as if he knew the dangerous direction her thoughts were heading.

She took a step back from him, trying to regain her composure. “Yes,” she agreed, a little unsteadily. “We should.”

Reithan was waiting for them in the barracks. When they reached the stall where Sunchaser and her colt were stabled, she discovered the Baenlander squatting by the foal, petting it with a smile. The stables were sharp with the smell of manure, but Alenor hardly noticed it. Her heart was racing, as it always did when she was courting danger. She reminded herself of what Alexin had told her.
I’m scared witless, so that must mean I’m being brave.
The thought did not actually help very much at all.

“I didn’t think sailors liked horses,” she remarked as she stopped by the railing, hoping she sounded calm and confident. “Or that they allowed wanted men to lurk about the stables of the Queen’s Guard.”

Reithan stood up from the foal and turned to look at her. “We’ve more friends in the guard than you know, your majesty.”

She glanced at Alexin for a moment, then turned back to Reithan. “I’m beginning to realize that. Is it safe for us to talk here?”

Alexin nodded. “The Lord Marshal is away visiting his daughter on Bryton, so Dargin’s in charge at the moment. Tael Gordonov took the bulk of the guard out on patrol this morning. Those that are left can be trusted.”

Somewhat reassured by Alexin’s words, she turned to Reithan. “You’ve heard about Kirsh and the High Priestess?”

“Alexin told me. Did your husband say
why
they were going to Omaxin?” the pirate asked.

“I had to drag even that much out of him. Can you get a message to Dirk?”

Reithan shook his head helplessly. “There’s no way to contact him or Tia, I’m afraid.”

The news just seemed to be getting worse and worse. “Tia? You mean Tia Veran? Neris’s daughter? She’s with Dirk in Omaxin? But that’s terrible! Antonov wants to get his hands on her almost as much as he wants you.”

“It seems awfully coincidental that the High Priestess suddenly decided to visit Omaxin now,” Alexin remarked. “She hasn’t been back to the ruins since before Johan was captured.”

Reithan obviously agreed with him. “Did Kirshov give no hint about the reason?”

“He just said he had to aid the High Priestess in something very important.”

“Capturing Dirk Provin and Tia Veran sits nicely under the heading ‘something very important,’ ” Alexin pointed out.

“But how could the High Priestess know where they are?” Alenor asked. “Who else knows about it?”

“Other than you and Alexin, your majesty, only a few of our people know where Dirk and Tia went, and I’m certain the information didn’t come from one of us.”

“Are you implying that
I’m
to blame?”

The Baenlander shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t mean to imply that you might have deliberately betrayed us, your majesty, but pillow talk can be dangerous.”

Alenor was shocked by what he was suggesting. “You think
I
betrayed Dirk’s whereabouts in the throes of passion with my husband?” she spluttered in disbelief.

“It’s been known to happen ...”

“It wasn’t Alenor,” Alexin announced in a tone that ended any further discussion on the subject. Reithan looked at his cousin curiously for a moment, and then nodded, accepting Alexin at his word.

“Then perhaps this is just a horrible coincidence,” Reithan shrugged. “That doesn’t make it any less dangerous for Dirk and Tia, though.”

“What are we going to do?” Alenor heard herself asking the question and wondered when the Queen of Dhevyn and the Baenlanders had become “we.”

“I think I’ll head for Avacas,” Reithan said. “I’ve got contacts there who might know what’s going on. Or the Brotherhood could help.”

“Are you sure?” Alenor asked doubtfully. “Kirsh didn’t even tell his father what he was doing.”

Both men looked at her in surprise. “The Lion of Senet doesn’t know that the Regent of Dhevyn left for Omaxin with the High Priestess?”

Alenor shook her head. “Kirsh was quite put out when I suggested that his father should be told about it.”

“This gets stranger and stranger,” Reithan said with a frown.

“Captain!” a voice called urgently. Alenor jumped nervously at the call, certain they had been discovered.

Alexin turned to look over his shoulder at the Guardsman who hailed him. With a sigh of relief, Alenor recognized the young man as one of the guards who frequently made up her escort when she was out riding.

“What is it, Pavel?”

“Tael and the patrol are heading back, sir. Dargin said to tell you that you’ve got about ten minutes.”

Alexin nodded and turned back to Reithan and Alenor, as the Guardsman slipped away silently.

“You’d better get out of here,” he warned Reithan.

“I’ll try to get a message to you from Avacas if I learn anything useful,” he promised. “But I’ve a feeling there’s not much I can do.”

“Be careful,” Alenor said.

Reithan smiled at her as he climbed through the rails of the stall. “I’m always careful, your majesty. It’s sort of a job requirement in my line of work.”

When Reithan was gone, Alexin opened the stall for Alenor. In the distance, they could hear the jingle of tack and the clattering of hooves in the cobbled yard as Tael Gordonov’s patrol returned to the barracks. She held out her hand and the colt made its way unsteadily to her. Alenor fell to her knees and put her arms around his slender neck. For a moment, she closed her eyes and hugged the foal, breathing in the horsey smell of him, and then she looked up at Alexin.

“I thought of what to name him,” she said. “Nadyezhda.”

“Nadyezhda?”

“It’s from the old language,” she explained. “It means hope.”