Starcrossed (16 page)

“It seems a serving girl found Lady Cardom’s jewels right under her table in the Round Court this morning.” No greeting, no explanation. “How fortunate that they hadn’t wandered farther afield. I believe our hosts might have launched a castlewide search.”

I said something rude, and he grabbed my arm and yanked me inside, slamming the door shut behind me. “How very refined you are.”

I rubbed my arm. I’d have bruises where his fingers had dug into my flesh. “What do you want?”

Daul stepped back into the rooms and strode to a carved oak desk by the windows. His rooms overlooked the sculpture garden, where the nymphs and griffins were reduced to formless lumps under their white shrouds.

“Wine?” He lifted an inlaid decanter toward me, twisting the glass stopper with his other hand. He wore an onyx signet ring on his little finger, but I couldn’t make out the symbol etched in the stone.

“No.”

“Come now, there’s no need to be rude. I’m toasting our association.”

“I don’t drink with people who threaten me,” I said baldly.

“Oh, please. I had to give you some incentive. You don’t strike me as a girl who’s easily convinced.” He poured out two goblets. The wine was white, almost clear.

“Convinced of what?” I said.

Daul glanced up. “The value of what I’m offering, of course. A chance to put your considerable skills to good use, and work for me. It seems we’re in a position to help each other.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Oh, I think you do. You have a valuable secret to protect, and that will be much easier if someone doesn’t expose you, don’t you think?”

I halted, my breath tight. “I’m listening.”

“Good!” His cold smile spread. “If you agree to work for me — and you will — I can arrange it so that my friends ignore your petty transgressions, and that their lordships never learn the truth about your identity.”

“Your friends?”

He looked surprised. “Oh! I thought I’d mentioned that. You know, you really do look so much like him —”

I was staring at him, tense and cold. “Like who?”

“Your brother.”

My entire chest turned to ice, freezing the words in my throat. “My — Contrare?” I said faintly.

“I think we both know very well who I’m talking about,” Daul said.

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Daul said. “We’ll see. Now, down to business.”

I’d seen a troupe of players once in Gerse — an old man from Sirpal played the recorder to a thick black snake that rose up from a basket, stretching its neck like an unfurled cloak. A little girl from the company dumped a rabbit right in front of it. The terrified rabbit had frozen, wide-eyed, staring into the snake’s gaze. As the music played on, the snake hung motionless in the air, but the rabbit inched closer and closer to its death.

I felt like that rabbit now.

“So what are you — like a Greenman or something?” I was nearly at the desk now. I could
almost
reach the heavy bronze inkwell on the corner. I’m not a great throw, but he was standing right in front of me. I could do a little damage.

Daul saw where I was looking. With a quirk to his scarred lip, he slid the inkwell to the opposite side of the desk. “Feisty, feisty! No wonder your brother thought you unmanageable. Still, I think I like a girl with a little spunk to her.” He reached out his finger and stroked it along my cheek. I grabbed his hand and bit down — hard.

He slapped me — so hard I went down and cracked the side of my head on the corner of the desk. Gasping and blind with pain, I fought to stand back up again.

“We’re not playing games here, you little thief. Now listen, and listen well.”

I pressed my hand to my stinging temple and blinked up at him.

“There’s something I want in this castle, and you’re going to get it for me. If you don’t, or if you fail, I will expose your little masquerade. How do you think Lady Nemair will like knowing her daughter’s been sleeping with a thief and a murderess all these weeks?”

Murderess? What was he talking about? But I didn’t say anything — what was the point? He was right about every thing. He was Lord Nemair’s best friend, a nobleman. He had all the power here, and I had nothing. I was whatever he said I was. Thief or murderer, traitor or heretic — Remy Daul’s word was enough to get me killed.

I bit my lip and looked away from him, out into the snowy landscape. My forehead throbbed. In a thin voice, I said, “Fine. What is it?”

“There! Was that so difficult? This should be a simple matter for a girl of your talents. I seem to have been the victim of an oversight. My foster brother invited all our dearest friends to winter with him in his lovely new home, but it seems I, for whatever reason, was not included on the guest list. I’m interested to know why.”

“How am I supposed to find that out? Ask them yourself!”

“I have a better plan. I want you to track down one of the official invitations for me. And while you’re at it, bring me a seal of the House of Nemair.”

That didn’t make any sense. “You’re planning on forging an invitation for yourself?”

“No! I wouldn’t think of doing something so unscrupulous. This is just to satisfy my own curiosity. I’m sure you can understand that.”

Don’t ask questions. That was one of the first things a thief-for-hire learned. Questions got people killed. “Seal, invitation. Got it.” It would be the job of five minutes. I turned to leave.

“Not so fast. The seal I’m looking for is very specific. There will be only one of its type, and it will be held closely by Lord Antoch — or possibly Lady Lyllace. I’m never certain about that one. You’re familiar with the Nemair crest?”

I shrugged. “The rampant bear on the quarter field. Of course.”

“Very good. The seal you want will have the wrong paw raised.”

“The — what?”

“Enough. You have every thing you need to know. I’m feeling gen erous this morning, so I’ll give you the day. If I don’t have that seal by noon tomorrow — or if you bring the wrong items — it’s ‘stop, thief!’ Understand?”

“It’s done. I’ll be back in an hour.”

His hand came down on my arm, gently enough. “Take the full day,” he suggested. “You’re only valuable to me if you can follow instructions.” He pulled away from the desk and headed for the door.

I paused in the threshold. “Why don’t you do it?”

He smiled. “Because I have you.”

It wasn’t a good job — Daul had been vague about the location of the target, he hadn’t given me enough time to prepare, and there wasn’t an escape route. The payment was also questionable. But he’d been convincing. It could be a long time before the snow cleared, and I’d rather spend that time in Meri’s warm soft bedroom than whatever served Bryn Shaer for dungeons. I still thought he might be lying about his “friends.” Anyone could claim to have the Inquisitor’s ear — that didn’t make it true. Except that it
did
. Greenmen took even the most frivolous accusations seriously. I knew that better than anyone.

To get the letter and the seal, I’d have to concoct some excuse for getting inside Lord Antoch’s rooms, a part of the castle I had never been in and had no conceivable reason to visit. Meri usually went riding with him every morning; that would have been my opportunity, but the stables were under a foot of snow, thanks to the storm that had trapped me here with Daul.

I worked out my plan that afternoon in the solar. The Bryn Shaer women gathered most afternoons for a few hours of needlework and gossip. There wasn’t much embroidery getting done today; it was stupidly cold and everyone was still too excited about being snowbound to concentrate. Which was just as well for me, since I was going to have to recruit some confederates for this job, and it would be easier if everyone was already distracted.

“Did everyone make it before the snow, Lady Lyllace?” Lady Cardom had joined the group, and sat beside me, unpacking a workbasket.

Lady Lyll gave a sigh and looked out at the snow, her untouched embroidery in her lap. “No, unfortunately. We were just getting ready to send for the Wolt sisters, but it looks like we’ll be missing them.”

“Wolt?” Lady Cardom’s lips pursed. “Perhaps it’s for the best. Your Ladyship, I’ve brought the stitchery you were so interested in last summer.” She drew a roll of cloth from the basket and passed it to Meri’s mother. “You’ll see it includes the band from Talanca you were asking about, as well as the one from my daughter at Gairveyont.”

Lady Lyll unrolled the cloth, revealing an intricate sampler of black- and scarlet-work. She indicated a wide row of alternating lilies, the black threads spangled here and there with gold. “This is the band from Gairveyont?”

Gods, would this conversation ever end? I was ready to poke my own eye out with my needle, and I had work to do.

Lady Lyll said, “I had remembered wrong, then. I thought there were five repeats?”

“No, only four,” Lady Cardom said. “She sends her regrets that she could not find the exact pattern you requested.”

“Very well. Tell Dressana I am grateful for her help.”

Lady Cardom smiled. “She knows, your ladyship.”

Lady Lyll took the sampler and rose. “I’ll just go tuck this away where I can study it later,” she said. “I’ll return shortly.”

When Lady Lyll was finally gone, I leaned over to Phandre. “Meri has a secret,” I said in a low, teasing voice.

Meri looked up, startled. “What? No, I —”

Phandre dropped the book she wasn’t reading and leaned forward. “Ooh, come on, Meri, out with it.”

“But I don’t —” Poor Meri stared desperately at me, trying to figure us out.

“She told me that her father has a book of Vareni love poetry in his rooms.” That should tempt Phandre to an adventure; the Vareni weren’t prudish about their poetry. And they illustrated.

“No, I —” Meri was still confused. “I didn’t. I never heard that.”

“Who cares?” Phandre said. “Let’s go see.” She was on her feet in an instant, with Meri hard on her heels. All I had to do was trail after.

“I don’t think we should. Father —” She may have been speaking to the castle walls for all the good it did her. “Maybe we should wait until he gets back from surveying the damage —”

And miss my only shot at Antoch’s rooms? Fat chance. Phandre and I grabbed Meri and dragged her from the solar.

When we neared Lord Antoch’s rooms in the opposite wing of the Lodge, I skipped forward to reach the door first, blocking it with my body as I popped the lock behind my back. The new locks at Bryn Shaer were flimsy, decorative things that took hardly more than a kiss and a wish to crack. I grinned and swung the door open.

“He must not be worried about intruders,” I said cheekily, ushering Phandre and Meri inside.

I almost didn’t have to search Lord Antoch’s rooms at all, with Phandre there. She flounced through the rooms, touching every thing, peering behind tapestries, opening drawers and cabinets, and testing out all the furniture. I just followed in her wake, looking behind whatever she’d moved. I heard a door click open, and Phandre barged into his lordship’s bedroom. Meri hurried after her.

“Does your father really sleep in this bed?” Phandre asked, and threw herself bodily atop it.

Meri turned pink. “I — I expect so,” she managed.

“And your mother?”

“Sometimes,” Meri mumbled.

Phandre turned to her, gaze pointed and mischievous. “Anyone else?”

“Phandre!”

But Phandre only laughed, her hair splayed across Lord Antoch’s satin pillows. “I want a bed like this,” she said. “Too bad I don’t have a father to get me one.”

“If you stay with me, I’ll ask Father to buy you a great oak panel bed, with a canopy of velvet and lace and crewel.” Meri’s voice was generous, as if giving away the world was nothing at all in the course of her day.

And Phandre turned on Meri a gaze that was full of acid and ice and every bitter thing. I winced. “I’ll bet Raffin Taradyce has an awfully fine bedstead,” I said.

Phandre cackled and threw a pillow at me.

“Meri, does your father have an office in here?” I asked, tossing it back on the bed.

She crossed the room and threw back the scarlet curtains covering one wall. Behind was a tiny room, with a much-used desk sitting before walls and walls of bookcases. For a moment I was distracted. Books always did that to me, almost more than a locked jewelry chest or a fat purse dangling from a fat nob. I liked the creamy pages, the smell of ink, all the secrets locked inside. I traced my fingers along one gilded binding after another, thinking I might help myself to a little something extra on this job.

Meri saw me looking. “Bryn Shaer has the finest library in the Carskadons. The owners have been collecting for years.”

“Then these aren’t all your father’s?”

“Oh, no. They were here when King Bardolph awarded the estate to the Nemair.”

“What’s in here? Oh, books.” Phandre strode to the first bookcase and started tipping volumes out at random. “What are we looking for again?”

“Poetry,” I said firmly.

Phandre made a face. “
Teska’s Bestiary
,
History of the House of Shaer
,
A Holy Love
— now that sounds promising.”