Ferran's Map (44 page)

Despite all this, she found him strikingly,
hatefully beautiful. She felt repulsed by her reaction to him. The
race of Wind and Light were known for their physical perfection:
symmetrical faces, alluring voices and ageless, glowing skin.
Caprion’s face held a vulpine edge, both masculine and intelligent.
He looked like a highborn prince, meant to study magnificent books
and rule with a gloved fist. He did not appear like a brutish
warrior, but a man of higher birth.

Her thoughts made her sick.

He hovered for a moment, made buoyant by the
power of his wings; his feet did not quite touch the wooden planks.
Then he sat cross-legged before her, eye to eye. She could no
longer look away and met his luminescent gaze. His eyes were so
strange, so unusually colored. His platinum hair fell in ruffled
waves around his face. His nose and jaw seemed chiseled from
stone.

“Why don’t you kill me?” she asked
bluntly.

He studied her. “I considered it,” he said,
“but decided it would be too much of a reward.”

She sneered at him. “I would gladly die for
my Master’s plan.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

She glared. “I am not afraid of torture. I
won’t betray the Shade.”

He snorted. “You won’t have a choice,” he
said dryly. “Just like you didn’t have a choice last night.”

Rage made her neck ache. She clenched her
jaw and fixed him with a withering glare.

He studied her expression, unperturbed.

“What if I told you,” her captor said
slowly, “that I knew a girl once, and you remind me of her?”

“Did you lock her up too?” she sneered. “Did
you torture her? Did you kill her?”

He hardened and didn’t answer.

Krait’s sneer widened. “Pathetic,” she spat.
She sat back against the curved wall of the ship, sensing that he
was not about to leave. A long moment of tense silence passed.
Finally she snapped, “So what happened to this girl?”

“I tried to save her life,” Caprion said
quietly, “but I don’t know if I did in the end.” He watched
her.

Krait rolled her eyes. “Is this a new
interrogation tactic?” she taunted. “You
tried
to save her
life. You
intended
the best. Am I supposed to feel pity?”
She didn’t care about his memories of some dead, nameless girl.
Just kill me, would you?
She watched him wearily. He sat so
close, she could see the small imperfections on his glowing skin, a
slight scar on his left brow, and how he spoke from the corner of
his mouth, as though holding back a secret.

“You’re ugly,” she snapped without
warning.

He blinked. Surprised?

She liked his reaction. “Oh, has no one told
you that before?”

“Yes, actually,” he replied. “An old friend,
once.”

She leaned forward. “You’re uglier than a
rat carcass.”

A smile cracked his full, pale lips.
“Really?” he murmured, and leaned a little closer. “Is it my nose?
Or my hair?”

Krait felt a bead of sweat drip down her
brow. She thought she might be trembling. She suddenly couldn’t
think of what to say. His calm gaze….She thought of pale skin and
cool hands….

Her eyes darted to the door, then quickly up
to the ceiling.

He sat back again. “I suppose you have some
sort of daring, resourceful escape planned?” he asked
ironically.

She glared at the slanted boards of the
cargo hold, but didn’t reply.

Unexpectedly, he took her face in his hand.
His touch was as cool as she imagined. Somehow, he managed to be
firm without causing pain.

“Where is
The Book of the Named
?” he
asked softly.

“I told you already. My Master has it. I
know not where,” she replied.

“Surely you must know something of the
Shade’s plot. Tell me what you left out. Any small detail.” He
laced his voice in a tone of command. She tried to resist, but his
words had a way of weaving into her mind, forcing her to
speak….

“Winter solstice,” she choked, trying to
swallow back the words. “He needs the three weapons by winter
solstice.”

“Why?” Caprion demanded.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. He
doesn’t tell us.”

“Who is he?”

Pain split her skull, but she bit her lip,
withholding the Name with all her might. “My Master,” she gasped.
“He saved me.” She tasted blood in her mouth.

A ripple of anger crossed the Harpy’s face,
marring his perfect composure. He stood up, distancing himself from
her. “Saved you,” he mocked softly. “And would you sacrifice
yourself for him now?”

“Gladly.”

“I won’t let you.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“That’s why I won’t kill you,” he said,
crossing his arms. “Because I won’t let you sacrifice your life for
a demon. I won’t let you fulfill your vows to the Shade.” His
shadow fell across her. She didn’t think Harpies could cast a
shadow, but this shadow was large, all-engulfing.

“You can’t take that from me,” Krait burst
out. She didn’t know why, but his words made her heart pound. The
Shade and her Master’s code was all she had, all she knew. Without
that…. “My Master will come for me. He will
end
you!”

“What makes you think he can take you from
me?” Caprion’s gaze darkened. “I’m a seraph. I’m not afraid of a
Grandmaster, or the Shade, or any other entity that lurks in the
dark.” His eyes swept over her. “I am, however, just a little
afraid of you.”

“Why?”

“Because some day, I might just let you kill
me.”

She stared at him, uncertain if she heard
correctly.

He continued speaking. “Your kind is used to
pain.” His voice resonated softly. “You’ve endured it all your
life. It’s how you understand the world. And from that pain, you
turn cold.” His voice lowered. “But I know what hurts you the
most.”

Then, unexpectedly, he drew his hand down
the side of her cheek. She felt gentleness in that touch.
Reverence. It pierced her.

“Don’t mistake my patience for weakness. I
know how to break you.”

She shuddered, wholly unnerved. The timbers
creaked. She heard a spatter of hail against the deck above. And
for a moment, she felt that fear again. She knew the pain of a
Harpy’s wings; she knew the burn of a sunstone at her neck. But the
endurance of his eyes? His unwavering voice? He promised a kind of
torment far deeper than the torment of the flesh.

He stood up and turned away; her eyes
lingered on his retreating figure. He climbed out of the cargo hold
and shut the trapdoor, and she was once again left in the dark.

CHAPTER 26

Sora and Lily rode in the second carriage
from the Ebonaire manor to the Royal Road, which cut through The
City of Crowns and connected the West Gate to the King’s palace.
Lord Ebonaire rode before them with his footman, fully prepared for
the winter solstice parade. Large plumes of feathers dyed crimson
red marked his carriage, and people paused by the side of the road
to cheer him. She saw other carriages marked with various house
colors ahead of them. The entire city seemed to watch as they
passed by, throwing rice and dried flower petals into the
street.

Sora felt a flutter of excitement. That
morning, Lord Ebonaire appeared dressed in extravagant armor
displaying his house colors. He wore a chest plate of dazzling
silver over a richly brocaded black tunic and crimson cloak, with
the symbol of a phoenix sewn on the back. A dashing sword hung from
his belt with rubies and diamonds embedded along the pummel. He
held a large, black porcelain mask, painted with red symbols
denoting his heritage.

He would wear the mask when he boarded his
parade float. The parade, after all, wasn’t about the actual
families of the First Tier, so faces weren’t important. The
peasants savored the story: the great war tales of the founding
tribes of the Kingdom. Now each was a family surrounded by legend
that was deeply ingrained in the history of the Kingdom. And each
family wore their inheritance with pride.

Sora and Lily shared the second carriage.
Sora’s wary eyes continuously scanned the crowds and rooftops. She
knew she was putting herself at risk, given the Shade’s open attack
the day before. Ferran didn’t approve, and insisted she wait for
Caprion to join her, but she didn’t want to miss Lord Seabourne at
The Knob. She even brought her staff, though it was just lying on
the floor in the coach. How would she would fight with the staff,
given her many layers of skirts? Nonetheless, its very presence
offered her a small comfort. She didn’t plan to give the Shade a
chance to attack, would confront Lord Seabourne and then return to
the manor directly.

Lily’s short black hair bobbed gently with
the sway of the coach. Her large, doleful eyes gazed dreamily out
the window. Sora imagined her friend was fantasizing about a life
in the Ebonaire house. Sora knew that Lily had always desired
wealth. If she couldn’t be part of the nobility, she could at least
be surrounded by nobles.

“Look, performers!” she said, pointing out
at the snowy streets. A large group of brightly dressed troubadours
marched down the cobblestone road, their masks painted yellow, blue
and red. They pounded on drums and trilled on flutes, readying the
crowd for the parade. Sora craned her neck to see more. Vendors,
acrobats and festively dressed peasants crowded each side of the
street. People scurried to and fro, calling to their friends and
interrupting traffic.

The Ebonaire carriage before them, drawn by
four magnificent black horses, headed inland toward the King’s
palace. People cheered as it sped past, throwing flowers or dyed
feathers into the street. The arrival of the First Tier families
stirred almost as much excitement as the parade itself.

Sora’s carriage continued toward Tourmaline
Street. She wished she could join the merrymakers outside and watch
the entire parade, but she had to find Lord Seabourne. Lily assured
her he could be found at The Knob, a well-known tavern near the
large canal.

“I used to work at The Knob,” she confided
that morning as they dressed. “Lord Seabourne meets there every
year with his watchmen, like clockwork. He stations them up and
down the canal to guard the royal family. We should get there
early, though, before the floats begin.”

The floats were large floating barges
decorated for the parade. Some represented the First Tier families,
while others told stories about the Goddess and the Four Winds.
They traveled down the main canal from the King’s castle to the
Crown’s Rush, then onward down to The Bath, where they docked at
the south gate. Then all was set alight in a grand pyre, musicians
played, and the population of the entire city flooded the streets,
dancing and reveling. “The floats are different every year,” Lily
said. “And sometimes they drift away in the current, or capsize, or
all sorts of excitement! It’s a bit competitive amongst the First
Tier. They hire people year-round just for the parade!”

Sora tried to imagine a life spent building
parade floats for a noble lord. It sounded wondrous.

Gray clouds covered the sky. Icy wind swept
the streets, with the promise of snow to come. Light, drizzling
rain misted the air. Sora thought it looked miserable outside the
carriage window, but the weather only seemed to excite the city,
rich and poor alike. The farther they traveled down Tourmaline
Street, the bigger the crowds became. Some people flew large kites
shaped like autumn leaves, snowflakes or stars. Shopkeepers
decorated their storefronts with black and silver ribbons. They
hung ornate wooden masks, painted pine cones and shiny glass
ornaments on their doors.

Sora tried to memorize each and every sight.
Hundreds of people walked toward the wide canal to watch the
parade. Twenty minutes passed before Lily directed their driver to
the side of the road.

“The Knob is just ahead,” she said as she
exited the carriage.

Sora followed determinedly. Her skirts were
much easier to walk in today. That morning, she discovered her new
clothes had already been delivered in brown packages by her bedroom
door. She was surprised by the expediency of the shops; in the
country, several months would pass before a new dress arrived by
mail. Within an hour, Olivia and Lily had fitted each dress for
her.

She suspected the tailor had modified a few
older designs. Still, she felt much more graceful moving about. Her
corset now clasped her correctly under the arms, pressing up her
cleavage to a daring height. A lacy white bow decorated the front
of her dark green bodice, and more lace trailed from the ends of
her sleeves. Her skirts were made of a green ribbon-like material,
and a white fur-trimmed cloak covered the ensemble.

Colorful? Yes. Seasonal? Apparently so. And
every other merchant or noble on the street appeared equally
dressed up. The parade was an occasion to show off wealth, and only
old money could afford rich dyes.

Lily led her down Tourmaline Street a brief
way. They passed at least five street vendors and countless
peasants before reaching the end of the block, a large building on
the corner. Several chimneys sprouted from the roof, releasing
wisps of gray smoke into the air. Her eyes combed the white plaster
walls and exposed wooden beams of the inn. Icicles dripped along
the edge of a wooden shingle roof. Despite the hubbub of the
streets, the noise issuing from the building was even louder.

Lily ushered Sora through the door of The
Knob. “The parade will start soon. Hopefully, Lord Seabourne is
still here.”

* * *

Every sort of person crowded the interior of
The Knob: sailors and merchants, gamblers and thieves, off-duty
soldiers and just as many women, all dressed up for the parade. As
Lily led her forcefully through the room, Sora tried to guess their
occupations. Thick forearms indicated laborers, bricklayers or
bakers, while housemaids and store clerks dressed with a lean sort
of elegance. Others appeared to be wealthy merchants' daughters or
farm girls from the surrounding countryside. Many of the patrons
wore traditional wooden masks in celebration of winter solstice.
She remembered the days when such a crowd would have intimidated
her. Now, she felt more at ease in the busy tavern than she had in
The Regency.