Authors: Rowena Cory Daniells
‘My lord?’
‘Hmm?’ Mind racing, Fyn rubbed his face as if tired. He wished he was armed, but he’d discarded his sword and knife before going to see the queen. ‘Think I’ll have a bath.’
He looked down as if to unlace his shirt, deliberately giving the assassin an opening.
Sensing movement, Fyn sidestepped. The manservant stumbled past him, regaining his feet with liquid ease.
The manservant had produced a small, wicked blade. He was all economical movement and total concentration.
Fyn frowned. ‘You’re a corax.’
A flicker of surprise crossed the assassin’s face.
‘I don’t have any enemies on Ostron Isle...’ But that was where Cobalt had spent the last thirteen years. And Cobalt had burnt ‘Fyn’s’ body in Rolenton Square. ‘My cousin Cobalt sent you.’
But if he had hoped for confirmation, he was out of luck.
The assassin remained silent as he circled Fyn, trying to pin him between the bed and the wall.
Instead, Fyn backed away, drawing the corax into the bathing chamber.
Heart thundering, Fyn felt his Affinity surge and the stone on his ring gleamed. The corax’s gaze flicked down to his hand.
Fyn stepped forward, caught his attacker’s knife hand and pivoted, pulling the man off balance in a half-circle, then letting him go.
The assassin skidded on the bathing chamber tiles and fell headfirst into the sunken bath.
With the corax’s knife now in his hand, Fyn stood over the tub ready to strike, but the corax lay unmoving. He’d broken his neck when he struck the far end of the bath.
Fyn’s legs gave way and he knelt on the tiles. He’d been lucky. But with coraxes after him, from now on he would have to be careful.
Chapter Forty-Five
‘H
ERE WILL DO,
’ Piro said, pointing to a shaded spot under the sweetly-scented lemon tree.
Gwalt nodded to the stable master, who had helped carry the day-bed into the courtyard of Dunstany’s townhouse. She hated not being able to do things for herself.
‘Thank you.’ Piro sank onto the bed with relief.
Gwalt put a glass of lemon and barley water on a small table beside her. ‘There we are. Now, you let me know if you need anything else.’
She nodded. He was so different from the ship’s surgeon who had terrorised her when she was at death’s door. Tears stung her eyes.
‘Don’t cry.’ Gwalt patted her arm. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Y-you’ve been so k-kind.’
He smiled indulgently. ‘And why wouldn’t I be?’
‘The cook...’ The cook had recognised Piro as Dunstany’s ex-slave, and refused to speak to her. Piro wasn’t sure if it was because she had been a slave, or because she had travelled with Dunstany dressed as a boy.
‘Don’t give her a thought.’
‘I’m not usually like this,’ Piro confessed, brushing away the tears.
‘I know. The best thing you can do is rest and get better. That’ll please his lordship.’
Piro nodded, although she didn’t understand why he thought she’d want to please Siordun.
Gwalt left and Piro lay back to watch the sun gleaming through the foliage. It was mid-afternoon, and her fever had abated for the time being. The servants’ chatter as they brought in the laundry was strangely comforting. After facing death, the ordinary concerns of running a home reminded her how precious life was.
She’d almost dozed off when she heard Dunstany’s voice.
With an effort, she pulled herself up on one elbow and watched as the carriage with the Dunistir crest—a star within a circle, symbolising purity and fidelity—entered the courtyard. As a stable boy closed the gate, Dunstany climbed down and the carriage continued around the lemon tree into the stables.
‘My lord?’ Piro called.
He turned and saw her there. ‘You’re up?’ He hobbled over, leaning heavily on the cane. ‘I don’t think that’s wise.’
‘I’ve been shut in a dank, dark cabin for five days with a bad tempered ship’s surgeon who smelled of alcohol and despair. If I didn’t get out in the sunshine, I’d go mad.’
His lips twitched and his eyes smiled. In the past she’d been delighted every time she’d made Lord Dunstany smile. Now she wasn’t sure how she felt.
He sat down as if his bones ached.
‘Why do you...’ She gestured to the staff and cane.
‘Disguise is in the detail. Isolt has invited Piro Rolen Kingsdaughter to stay with her at the palace.’
Piro wrinkled her nose. ‘Would I have to be polite and listen to old noblemen tell me things I already know?’
His lips twitched again.
She felt a surge of pleasure, which she ruthlessly suppressed—this was not
her
Lord Dunstany. ‘What news of Fyn?’
‘Benetir Estate is in Sefarra’s hands again. Camoric and his men are staying on to help her make the great house defensible.’
Piro wanted to ask about Byren, but it was too soon for news. ‘And Fyn?’
‘He returned with over a hundred freed seven-year slaves.’
‘Then they can sail for Rolencia.’ She saw Dunstany’s expression. ‘I see. You mean to keep them here until he needs them.’ She frowned. ‘I wish I knew if Byren—’
‘Don’t fret.’ He cupped her cheek, too briefly for her to object. ‘You don’t have to go up to the palace until you’re ready. My Affinity will be restored by this evening. I’ll work on your wound then.’
She nodded and he left her. It was pleasant under the lemon tree, and she let herself drift into a doze. She was still aware of the soft brush of the breeze over her skin, still felt the dappled sunlight like warm kisses on her face and arms, still heard the chatter of the servants in the kitchen, but she drifted free of her body to float above the courtyard.
In this state, she was aware of Siordun’s Affinity. She sensed him as if he was a slow burning beacon inside the townhouse. It was almost as if she was using her unseen sight, and she wondered if her Affinity had been restored before her body was fully healed, thanks to Siordun’s attempts to heal her.
A delivery cart arrived, and as the cook came out to chat to the carter, Piro wondered if she could use her Affinity to find her foenix, but she was afraid of wandering too far in the unseen world. She might lose herself, and not be able to find her way back to her body.
A bird landed in the lemon tree and began to sip nectar from the sweet flowers. Piro tried to reach out to the creature. Instead, she sensed the Affinity of a half-grown kresillum in the lemon tree, below her. The Affinity creature’s back was covered by hard plates. They had an almost mirror-like finish, so that the kresillum seemed to be covered by a shell made of sunlight and leaves.
She wished she had thought to research kresillums after her encounter with the kresatrices on the voyage to Ostron Isle.
Luckily, this creature did not seem aggressive. It scurried down the tree to crouch on the branch directly above her body, possibly attracted by the Affinity she was exerting.
The kresillum twitched as another cart arrived. This cart belonged to a cheese monger; Piro could smell the cheese, even with her awareness hovering above her body.
As the cook made her purchases from the far side of the cart, a muslin flap opened on this of the cart. Intrigued, Piro watched as one long leg slid out, followed by another. A youth climbed down from the cart. The cheese monger’s stowaway went barefoot and wore a thigh-length smock over knitted breeches. Their hair was tied back in a long queue, such as sailors wore. The androgynous face and neutral clothes gave no clue as to the stowaway’s gender.
Spotting Piro asleep under the lemon tree, the stow-away glanced left and right before drawing a sharp little paring knife.
A corax. Fear froze Piro.
Already the assassin was approaching the day-bed. Piro tried to reach out to Siordun, but he was impervious to her.
The corax’s hands neared Piro’s throat.
Panic made her Affinity surge. She felt the kresillum jump with fright and emit a high noise.
The kresillum’s unearthly song made the corax forget their mission. Face slack, eyes wide and dreamy the entranced assassin swayed in time to the kresillum’s melody. But even so the knife remained in their grasp.
As the cheese monger and cook came over to the lemon tree to investigate the sound, Piro felt a wave of relief. They would save her. But by the time they stood under the tree, they were also under the kresillum’s spell. A boy came out of the stable and became entranced by the song.
‘Here, what’re you doin’,’ the stable master demanded and strode after the lad. ‘There’s work to... be...’
And he too was lost. This was ridiculous.
Fear churned in Piro, stirring her Affinity. What if the corax grew used to the kresillum’s song and managed to throw off its effects? She could end up dead while everyone stood around with silly smiles on their faces.
Here came Dunstany’s trusted servant, Gwalt, with young Illien. But they were captured too.
A servant poked her head out the window and gestured to the crowd under the lemon tree. ‘What’s going on?’
No one answered.
The woman slammed the window shut and a few moments later ran out the back door. Piro wanted to shake her, then realised Dunstany was one step behind her.
The woman lost momentum and purpose by the time she reached the cook, but Dunstany approached as if pushing through thigh-deep snow.
Piro tried to reach out to him but, once again, he was impervious to her Affinity, although the act of reaching out had stripped him of illusion. She now saw Siordun in costume, not Dunstany the elderly scholar.
And despite his own Affinity, Siordun was not impervious to the kresillum’s allure. He fought it, raising his cane to prod the creature.
Frustration ate at Piro. The kresillum was not the threat. She wanted to kick Siordun.
The closer the cane came to the Affinity creature, the more intense its song became.
Just before the cane tip struck, the kresillum ended its song and leaped off the branch, back plates opening up to reveal shimmery gauzy wings that looked too fine to support its weight.
Wings whirring, the Affinity creature swept out over the crowd. Several people fell to their knees, others swayed.
Siordun finally noticed the blade in the corax’s hand and rapped the knuckles sharply with his cane.
The corax gave a bark of pain and sprang upright, colliding with the cheese monger. The two of them seemed to shiver. Their slack expressions focused, revealing purpose and training. Both were coraxes.
They made for the gate, leaving the cheese monger’s cart behind.
‘Coraxes!’ Dunstany shouted. ‘Stop them.’
But his townhouse servants were still recovering from the kresillum’s trance. Only Gwalt tried to tackle the cheese monger, who flipped him over his shoulder, tumbling him to the stones of the courtyard.
‘Piro!’ Siordun took her shoulders in his hands.
The moment he touched her, she slipped back into her body and regained control with a gasp. Looking up at him, she found he was once again Dunstany.
Behind him, the servants helped Gwalt and tried to make sense of what had just happened. They didn’t remember the kresillum.
Illien returned to report, ‘We lost them, my lord.’
‘Don’t worry. We’ll be on our guard from now on.’ Dunstany dismissed him, and turned to Piro. ‘You were under the thrall of a kresillum’s song.’
‘No, I wasn’t. I made it sing to stop the corax from cutting my throat. Everyone else was under the kresillum’s spell.’ She eyed him. ‘Even you had trouble fighting it. Why didn’t it affect me when you struggled? What are you not telling me?’
He glanced to the servants. ‘This is not the time or place.’ He beckoned the stable master to carry Piro inside.
She did not argue.
By the time she was in her bed again, her fever had returned. Dunstany sent the servants away and reached out to her.
She pushed his hand away. ‘Why are coraxes after me?’
‘Cobalt has told everyone that Byren killed you.’ Dunstany went to the door and asked for a tisane to be made up, then returned to sit by the bed. ‘It would look odd if there was another Piro in Merofynia.’
‘But who knew I was here?’
‘The ship’s surgeon?’
‘I told him I was your servant.’
‘Would Lord Dunstany collect his servant in person?’
‘You gave me away.’
‘The surgeon really annoyed me. The thought of you in his power...’ He glowered. ‘The coraxes must have been waiting for an opportunity to identify and remove you. A while ago some footpads attacked Fyn, but—’
‘Coraxes tried to kill Fyn?’ Piro was horrified.
‘They were too clumsy for coraxes. ’
‘Then who tried to kill Fyn?’
Dunstany sighed. ‘He advises the young queen. There are many who would like that position.’
‘You advise the young queen.’
‘Enemies have already killed Dunstany once. One day they will succeed. Before that day, Dunstany will have to die a natural death. If I’m killed, my disguise will be revealed. My fall would bring down Fyn and lose Byren this kingdom.’
Piro found she could not bear the thought of sponging the blood from Siordun’s dead body to prepare him for burial.
‘I’ve sent for Byren. Lord Elcwyff has asked for help. The warlord of Wyvern Spar came over the pass and attacked his lands. They were turned back, but I fear...’
‘Merofynia is vulnerable.’
‘We are all vulnerable.’
She frowned. ‘Why was it that I had no trouble controlling the kresillum, but you were almost under its spell? Why can’t I make the sorbt stone glow, when you could do it as a ten-year-old?’
‘That really rankles, doesn’t it?’ His mouth twitched, then he sobered. ‘What was King Byren the Fourth known for?’
‘You mean apart from fathering bastards?’
‘Piro!’
‘You sound just like my mother.’ She could see he didn’t like the comparison. ‘My grandfather was known for his menagerie... His Affinity was best suited to communing with animals!’
Siordun nodded. ‘Specifically Affinity beasts. I’ll give you another type of sorbt stone. Maybe it will be easier for you to focus your power in it. As for the coraxes... I think it is time the mage had a talk with Lady Death.’