Fire (33 page)

Well
, Fire thought, her tone deliberately careless.
I’ll meet with you, if you’ll go to the place I specify.

Amusement and contempt in response to this. Murgda was not fool enough to be led into a trap.

And I’m not keen enough to see you, Lady Murgda, that I would let you choose the meeting place.

Stubborn refusal to leave her self-created fortress.

You don’t imagine I’d come to you in your rooms, Lady Murgda? No, I begin to think we are not meant to meet after all.

A determination - a
need
- to meet Lady Fire, to see her.

It was intriguing, this need, and Fire was content to use it for her own purposes. She breathed to calm her nerves, for her next message must be perfect in tone: amused - delighted, even - to the point of mild acquiescence, and somewhat curious, but rather indifferent as to where all of this might lead.

I suppose we could start by getting a look at each other. I’m on the balcony just across from you and up.

Suspicion. Fire was trying to lure Murgda out again.

Very well then, Lady Murgda. If you think our plan is to kill you publicly at our winter party and start a war in the court, then by all means, don’t venture onto your balcony. I cannot blame you for caution, though it does seem to disallow your own interests. Goodbye, then.

A burst of irritation in response to this, which Fire ignored. Then scorn, then mild disappointment; and finally, silence. Fire waited. Minutes passed, and her sense of Murgda shrank, as if Murgda were pulling her feelings away and closing herself tight.

More minutes passed. Fire was beginning to try to cobble together a new plan when suddenly she felt Murgda moving through her rooms toward her balcony. Fire nudged Gentian to a place in the courtyard where he would not be able to see Fire but would have an unobstructed view of Murgda’s balcony door. Then Fire stepped forward into the light of the candles on her own railing.

Murgda stopped behind her balcony door and peeked out at Fire through the glass pane. She was as Fire remembered her: a short, plain-faced woman, straight-shouldered and tough-looking. Fire was pleased, oddly, by the strong and purposeful sight of her.

Murgda didn’t emerge to the balcony; she didn’t even crack the door open. But this was what Fire had expected and the most she dared to hope for, and it was enough, for down below, Gentian’s eyes caught hold of Murgda.

His reaction came to Fire plain as a pail of water thrown in her face. His confidence surged. His nerves were immensely comforted.

She understood now why Gentian wasn’t spying on Murgda, and why Lord Mydogg’s ally Captain Hart had known so much about Gentian. She understood a good many things, including why Murgda had come. She had come to help Gentian see his plans through. For somewhere along the line, Mydogg and Gentian had become allies against the king.

And Fire was reading something from Murgda as well, something less surprising. Whether Gentian knew it or not, his ally had come for one other reason. Fire read it in Murgda’s eyes that stared across the courtyard at her, and in the feeling Murgda was releasing now without meaning to: stupefaction, wonderment, and lust, though not the lust Fire was used to. This lust was hard and scheming, and political. Murgda wanted to steal her. Mydogg and Murgda wanted her for their very own monster tool - had wanted her since the first moment they’d seen her last spring.

Knowledge - even the knowledge that your enemies had unified to outnumber you - was strengthening. Fire saw now quite assuredly what she must do. What she
could
do, if she took care and kept hold of all the stray ends.
You see?
she thought now charmingly to Murgda.
You’ve shown your face, and you’re still alive.

Murgda’s mind sharpened and closed. She narrowed her eyes at Fire and rested her hand on her stomach in an interesting manner Fire understood, because she’d seen it before. Murgda spun around and walked out of sight, never once noticing Gentian, who was still craning his neck at her below.

Fire stepped back into the shadows. Flatly, without dramatics, she communicated to the others all she had learned. They were surprised; horrified; unsurprised; eager to proceed. She answered as best she could what she believed to be their questions.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get Lady Murgda out of her rooms
, she thought to them.
I don’t know if Murgda will die tonight. But Lord Gentian will do whatever I say, and I can probably manage Gunner. Let’s start with them. Lord Mydogg’s allies can tell us Lord Mydogg’s plans
.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

F
IRE WANTED GENTIAN, and more particularly Gunner, to see her clearly. So she went to the king’s own living quarters, which were on the second level overlooking the courtyard, and walked right out onto the balcony. She looked straight into the dazzled faces of Gentian and Gunner, whom she’d placed in fine position to see her. She smiled suggestively at Gunner and made eyes, which was ridiculous and embarrassing but had the desired effect. And then Nash himself stormed onto the balcony, looked to see whom she was flirting with, glared at Gentian and Gunner, took Fire’s arm, and yanked her back inside. The whole thing lasted possibly nine seconds, a fortunate brevity, for the mental strain on Fire was enormous.

There had been too many minds in the courtyard to control at once. She’d had help. Welkley’s people had been on the floor creating distractions to deflect attention from her. But persons here and there had seen, and Fire had to make a list now of people who must be watched with extra care on the chance they’d found it interesting that the lady monster seemed to be working her charms on Gentian and Gunner - interesting enough to talk about it, or even do something about it.

Still, it had worked. Gentian and Gunner had stared, paralysed by the vision of her.
I want to talk to you
, she’d thought to them as Nash had dragged her away.
I want to join your side. But don’t tell anyone, or you’ll put me in danger
.

Now she sank into a chair in Nash’s sitting room, her head in her hands, monitoring Gentian’s eagerness, Gunner’s suspicion and desire, and skimming the rest of the courtyard and the entirety of the palace for anything relevant or worrisome. Nash went to a side table and came back, crouching before her with a cup of water.

‘Thank you,’ she said, glancing up gratefully and taking the cup. ‘You did well, Lord King. They believe you guard me jealously and I’ve a wish to escape. Gentian is positively brimming with indignation. ’

Clara, sprawled on a sofa, snorted in disgust. ‘Gullible no-heads.’

‘It’s not their fault, really,’ Nash said soberly, still crouched before Fire. He was having a hard time getting up and leaving her. Fire could feel that he was trying. She wanted to put a hand on his arm, out of gratitude for all the ways he always tried, but she knew her touch would be no help to him.
Why don’t you take water to your brother
, she thought to him gently, for Garan had begun to sweat with one of the fevers that overtook him in moments of stress, and was resting on the sofa with his feet in Clara’s lap. Nash bent his chin to his chest and stood to do what she said.

Fire considered Brigan, who’d leaned back against a bookshelf, arms crossed, eyes closed, ignoring the argument beginning now between his sister and brothers about the whys and wherefores of Gentian’s stupidity. He was neatly dressed and shaved, but the bruise on his face had darkened to something purple and ugly, and he looked so tired, as if he’d like to sink into the bookshelf and become a part of its solid, inanimate bookshelfness.

When did you last sleep?
she thought to him.

His pale eyes came open and regarded her. He shrugged, and shook his head, and she knew it had been too long ago.

Who hurt you?

He shook his head again, and mouthed a word across the room. Bandits.

Were you riding alone?

‘I had to,’ he said quietly, ‘or not get here in time.’

I was not criticising you
, she thought.
I trust you to do what you must
.

He opened a memory to her. He’d promised her, one green and gold day at the start of summer, not to wander alone at night. Yet he’d ridden last night alone, and most of today. It was within her right to criticise.

I wish
, Fire began, and then stopped, because she could not think to him that she wished they did not have this task to do, she wished she could comfort him and help him to sleep. She wished this war away that he and Nash would fight, hacking with swords and fists on a frozen field against too many men. These brothers. How would they get out of such a thing alive?

Panic bunched inside her. Her tone grew tart.
I’ve grown quite fond of your warhorse, Big. Will you give her to me?

He stared at her with about as much incredulity as such a question, posed to the army’s commander on the eve of battle, rightly deserved. And now Fire was laughing, and the sudden, unexpected lightness soothed her aching brain.
All right, all right. I was only testing that you were awake and in your right mind. The sight of you taking a nap against the bookshelf doesn’t inspire confidence
.

He was still looking at her as if she might be half-crazy, but he flexed his hand and rested it on his sword hilt, pushing himself upright, ready to go wherever she told him to. He cocked his head at the doorway leading to Nash’s other rooms, where Fire’s guard, a group of messengers, and a small army of soldiers were waiting to assist however they were needed.

Fire stood. The others stopped their chatter and looked to her.

‘Levels seven and eight,’ she said to Brigan, ‘the far northern wing. The rooms overlooking the smallest courtyard. At this moment it’s the emptiest part of the palace, and it has been all day, so that’s where I’ll take Gentian and Gunner. You and Clara go there now. Find whatever empty room you can, on whichever level is easiest to get to without being seen, and I’ll try to lead them as close to you as I can. If you need my help getting through the halls, or if Murgda’s tails give you trouble, call for me.’

Brigan nodded and went to the side rooms to collect his soldiers. Fire sat back down and dropped her head again into the palms of her hands. Every stage of this process required focus. Right now she must monitor Brigan and Clara and their soldiers and their tails and everyone who noticed any one of them. While keeping stock of Gentian, Gunner, and Murgda, of course, and perhaps sending Gentian and Gunner occasional blips of helpless desire; and holding on to a sense of the palace as a whole, in case anything anywhere, at any time, should feel wrong for any reason.

She breathed through a mild headache forming above her temples. She stretched out with her mind.

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Clara, Brigan, and a number of soldiers had found their way to an unoccupied suite of rooms on level eight in the far northern wing. Three of Murgda’s spies and three of Gentian’s were with them also, several unconscious, and the conscious ones boiling with fury, presumably at the indignity of being bound and gagged and shoved into closets.

Brigan sent assurance that all was well. ‘All right,’ Fire said to Nash and Garan.
All right
, she thought to all those involved throughout the palace.
I’m beginning
.

She hunched in her chair and closed her eyes. She touched Gentian’s mind and then entered it. She touched on Gunner and decided that he was not oblivious enough for sneakery.

Gunner
, she thought to him, warm and flirtatious, gushing herself at him - and then thrusting herself into the cracks that opened with his involuntary rush of pleasure.
Gunner. I want you to come to me. I need to see you. Can I trust you to be kind to me?

Suspicion washed along the edges of his gladness, but Fire murmured at it, lulled it, and took harder hold.
You must go where I direct you and tell no one
, she told both him and Gentian.
Now, leave the courtyard through the main arch and climb the central stairway to level three, as if you were returning to your rooms. I’ll lead you to a place that’s safe for all of us, far away from the king and his tiresome guards
.

Gentian began to move, and then, more reluctantly, Gunner. Their five henchmen moved with them and Fire expanded her reach, stepping into each of their minds. The seven proceeded toward the exit and Fire skimmed the rest of the courtyard. It didn’t matter who noticed, but it did matter very much who followed.

Three consciousnesses separated themselves casually from the dancing and fell in behind Gentian’s guard. Fire recognised two as Murgda’s spies and the other as a minor lord she’d identified earlier as a probable Murgda sympathiser. She touched their minds, tested, and decided that they were too guarded for her to enter without them noticing. She would have to lead the others and trust these three to follow.

Ten men. She thought she could handle that while holding the floor plan and thousands of moving figures in her mind.

How her power had grown, with practice. She could not have done this a year ago. Only last spring, the First Branch had utterly overwhelmed her.

Her party of ten ascended the steps to the third level.
Now move down the hallway and turn into the corridor containing your rooms
, Fire thought to Gentian and Gunner. Her mind raced ahead to that very corridor and found it alarmingly full of people. She sped some up, slowed some down, and sent some into their rooms, forcefully in the case of the strong-minded, for there was no time to take the proper care. When Gentian, Gunner, and their five attendants turned the corner to their rooms, the hallway stretched emptily before them.

The hallway was still empty moments later when Gentian and Gunner came abreast of their rooms.
Stop there
, she told them. She switched to the minds of the soldiers hiding in the suites around Gentian’s. When Murgda’s men rounded the corner, she sent the soldiers a message:
Go now
. Soldiers piled into the hallway and set about capturing Gentian’s five guards and Murgda’s three spies.