The Jewel and Her Lapidary (3 page)

She’d always demanded to stay, but Aba had started in with the
musts
and the
does
nots
. Sima had gently steered her from anything remotely like harm. She’d been ordered to care for Lin like any treasure being readied for export.

But when Aba napped, Lin had demanded her lapidary join her to listen at doorways and bribe the maids who waited at table. She’d gathered as much gossip as she could. She’d learned about the kingdoms and what they sold. She’d strained to hear the stories of newfound gems and their risks and powers.

Gossip and heavy doors blurred sound as much as her gauze veil had blurred sight. Lin had seen nothing of the kingdom clearly and she knew it.

The soldier leaned in once to lift Lin to his shoulder. He couldn’t figure out how to put his hands on her without becoming tangled in her chains. Lin, her head throbbing, refused to help him. Fear overwhelmed her. Memories broke loose. She had no gems to calm her. To keep her from shaking as the soldier lifted her to take her to meet the commander. A new betrothal.

Betrayal.
Betrothal.
She imagined the lapidary’s hands on her father’s goblet, as soldiers grabbed at her chains. Father drank his final wine and the great gems shattered.
Strangers in the palace.
No one coming to help.
Those who hadn’t gone mad from gems or died from poison had run away. But Lin would not run. She would face her fate. She stopped shaking.

Because a Jewel protects their people.
It was what her father would have done.

Were there people left to protect?
The artisans and miners, the craftsmen, and the people of the valley still lived.

Perhaps the mountain army would relent, once they realized the gems were broken and no Lapidaries remained to speak the gems. Perhaps Lin could stall long enough to negotiate terms that would help her people. She hoped to try.

The soldier released her bound hands and jerked her arms up as high as they would go. The chains rattled. He hauled her forward and bent his shoulder.

Her chains hit his armor like hail on a rooftop, sharp and slick and cold.

Without a word, the soldier turned and carried Lin, last Jewel of the valley, ass-first from her quarters and into his commander’s audience.

* * *

Local Walks: The Ruins.
According to lo
cal legend, the large blocks of
moonstone at the far edge of the area’s largest grazing meadow are from the ancient palace. The walk that takes you there from the river cuts a pleasant half-hour’s time through the forest, and the grazing meadows provide a beautiful view of the Western Mountain
range. Exercise caution, as at least one hiker has fallen into an ancient shaft or pit.

Should you choose to continue your walk beyond the Ruins, terrain will shortly become rough. The Valley narrows rapidly as the foothills of the mountains encroach.

. . .
from
A Guide to the Remote River Valleys,
by M.
Lankin
, East
Quadril

* * *

In the moonstone hall where generations of valley kings had held court, Sima’s robe left a muddy smear on the pale tiles. When she lifted her head, she saw Lin, draped in her chains, hauled through the broken doors behind her.

Despair,
the gems said. Sima fought against the word, though it wrapped her tight.

“We caught this one over the wall,” the first soldier said, pushing Sima down before the amber throne. Lin was deposited beside her a moment later. All around them, mountain army guards cleaned their swords and tipped crates of belongings onto the floor.

“These two are all who remain? Impossible. Find the lapidary.” Commander Nal’s voice rang sharp across the moonstones. Her soldiers rushed to obey her.

A woman at the head of an army. Sima’s surprise must have registered on her face, because the soldier delivered a slap so hard it nearly sat her down on the moonstone tiles. Through blurred eyes, Sima eyed the commander’s cloak, looking for the Star Cabochon. The cabochon was the largest ruby in the six kingdoms and the only one that blazed with a six-armed star. Neither Sima nor Lin had found it when they’d searched the bodies of the dead in the palace. She’d found the setting. Had known her father had broken its bindings because for one long moment the cabochon’s unfettered voice had pounded her ears. She had felt its desires—the wants of the deep earth, the pressures wrought by age and power—and had almost been bent to its will. Then the voice silenced and Sima’s father had plummeted from the palace wall, broken.

If the commander had the cabochon, she could compel anyone to do anything she wanted. Whole kingdoms, even.

But the commander wore a plain baldric and iron spurs, not gems. Her heels rang against moonstone when she stepped forward to inspect the platinum cuffs on Lin’s wrists, the tight bands at Lin’s ankles. Though her eyes looked tired and she ran a hand through her dusty hair, the commander bore the grime of a battle fought, not watched. She rode with her men, Sima realized.

Jewels did not do that. They’d needed no armies, thanks to the gems.

“The lapidary knew my terms,” Commander Nal said in a voice as cold as Lin’s chains. “The valley’s most powerful gems for me and a royal Jewel to wed for my son. The strength of mountain and valley together will make a most powerful kingdom. But this is not a veil that will be removed easily, and there are no gems. What is this trick?”

Two guards carried the answer into the hall. A broken body, the man’s ruined face turned black with blood.

At the sight, Nal stepped back. Her spurs sounded alarm.

“The gems broke your lapidary, Commander,” Lin said from behind her veil of chains. “They destroy anyone who does not know how to control them.” She lifted her head to meet Nal’s gaze. Then her chains rang as she bowed low. “If your terms included all that remained of the valley’s treasury, I present my dowry.”

Sima watched Nal’s eyes narrow. She’d seen that look before, on her father’s face. The commander hated dissent. Or, Sima reasoned, feared it enough to destroy it. Sima wished the gems hidden in her cloak would whisper calm to Lin, to herself. Instead, the gems urged
Escape
. They would not be controlled. Sima held herself still. Focused on Lin and what she could do for her without gems.

Lapidaries heed their Jewel first, gems second.
The band that had bound her left forefinger. A vow for a leader’s lapidary, though Lin was raised to marry rather than rule. Her lapidary had needed the skill only to make ornaments that soothed and calmed. Sima had no experience making the glittering weapons that, with the right whisper, sang in a way that compelled those within earshot and beyond.

Lin’s chains shook as she stood upright again.

Nal’s advisors leaned in and murmured advice. Nal held up a hand and moved two steps closer, her boots beating back the quiet. She pulled Lin forward first, then nodded to her men. At her gesture, several guards put their hands on the grate beside the throne.

The white-jade columns of the valley’s royal hall echoed with the sound of metal grinding stone as the soldiers uncovered the ancient pit again. A new, rank smell rose into the hall.

They tossed the body of the king’s lapidary into the pit and left the grate open.

Lin, her golden eyes hidden behind the veil’s chains, stayed silent. Resolute. As she watched, Sima vowed she would not cringe. She would not pull the stones from the cloak, though they whispered
Freedom
and
Power
.

If Nal knew what she bore in her cloak, Sima would not be Lin’s lapidary for long. Whether Nal had the Star Cabochon or not.

Nal spoke so that all could hear her. “When you marry my son tomorrow, Jewel, your people will see your face filled with happiness. Then they will follow your example. Remove the veil now.”

Lin swallowed. “Forgive me, Commander, but I cannot. My lapidary spoke binding charms when she soldered my veil around me. As with our mail, which you know well, these chains cannot be cut.”

Nal’s face flushed red and a hush passed over her soldiers. She seemed used to being obeyed.

Lapidaries must obey their Jewel.
Sima clenched the aching fingers of her right hand around her left sleeve. In her cloak, hidden gems whispered to her.
Escape.
Any gem-speaker, trained lapidary or not, in the room would hear them and know of Sima’s doubts, her betrayals. Sima’s shoulders bent. None heard her shame. She was indeed the last lapidary.

“And the rest of my terms. Where are they?” Nal said, so quietly that only Lin and Sima could hear. “The gems. Especially the Star Cabochon.”

Sima startled. She had been so sure her father had hidden the cabochon for the commander to find or dispatched it to them after he’d pried loose the setting. How else to explain the fierce way the mountain army had followed their commander through the valley?

But the cabochon was lost to Nal as well. Sima realized she could see a crack in the commander’s show of strength. She wanted power, but to hold it, she needed the gems.

Sima’s own fears shook her as much as the look on Nal’s face. If someone found the gem and could not bind it properly; if a wild gem-speaker came across the cabochon . . . Sima could barely stand at the thought. Only the Jewels and their lapidaries could keep the valley safe from uncontrolled gems.

But no one had thought the Jeweled Court could fall, leaving two teenage girls to fend for themselves.

No
one,
thought Sima,
except for the king’s own lapidary, in his madness.

“Where is it,” Nal whispered again. She’d mistaken the girls’ silence for collusion. “You will give it to me. You will obey me,” she said to Lin. The commander’s face was turning red.

Sima looked at Lin, praying she would remain silent. If they couldn’t escape, perhaps they could look useless.

The guard who’d carried Sima into the hall stepped forward. He tore the gray cloak from Sima’s shoulders and threw it at Nal’s feet. Everyone heard the clatter that it made as the hem split and small gems spilled. The guard removed Sima’s belt and took the pouch from it. Poured Sima’s vows on the floor.

Nal turned her eyes to Sima, recognition in her gaze. Her voice smoothed, suddenly back in control. “And you will speak it for me, lapidary.”

Defeat,
whispered the gems. Sima knew she would never escape now. She would be bound again, and not to Lin.

Then Lin looked up, shards of skin and eye visible through small gaps in the chains. Her eyes spoke defiance.
Revenge.

* * *

Lin hoped her voice carried clear across the court like her father’s voice had. “Lapidaries are difficult to control, Commander. They are not as strong as they seem, either. Look at what happened to your traitor.” She raised her eyes to meet Nal’s and felt the woman’s breath hot on her chains. A woman. With a son to marry. And a hunger for a kingdom of her own.

Who needed a lapidary to speak the stones for her.

While Sima stood stiff and shocked at Lin’s side, Lin continued to lie. “I ordered the Star Cabochon destroyed. All you will find in that cloak are minor gems. The kind we give to children.”

Speaking the words almost made them true.

Lin heard whispers behind her, the soldiers wondering at the name of the gem, at its fate. They were intrigued by their commander’s demand. By the gems on the floor. She’d promised them riches. The guards sorted through the small hoard.

“Nothing shaped like a cabochon here, Commander,” said the one who had carried Sima through the door.

Nal would never hold the cabochon, Lin vowed. Listening to the soldiers joke as they dragged her into the hall, she knew the Western Mountains wished to use it to enslave the valley’s own people. And then they would move on to the other kingdoms.

Beside her, Sima stood steadfast in the face of Nal’s anger and Lin’s own betrayal. Lin drew strength from her presence. She straightened her back. Squared her shoulders.

“You are lying,” Nal said. She raised her voice so that the soldiers assembled in the moonstone court could hear. “We know your father was too weak to use your valley’s gems properly, and too weak to destroy them.” Nal lowered her gaze and stared down her nose at Lin. “And you are no better than your father.”

What would a proper Jewel do now? Lin thought quickly. Aba’s guidance was lacking here too. Lin’s father would have turned his back, as he’d done when his lapidary disagreed. Lin responded with silence, lifted her chin higher. Her veil chimed with the motion.

Nal huffed softly and glared at Lin. Then, with a sweep of her cloak and her step ringing on the hall floor, the commander turned away from the Jewel and bowed to Sima.

A guard grappled Lin by her chains and dragged her to the pit. She struggled but forced her mouth shut. She would not call out. She spun in her captor’s arms and looked at Sima once more. The lapidary’s eyes were wide with shock.

Nal spoke in the crisp cadence of command. “Lapidary, you abandoned your vows once already today by running away. Do it again. Leave your Jewel and serve me instead.” Then her voice softened. She reached out to Sima. “Your Jewel has declared you weak. I think you are strong. Cut new stones, train new lapidaries. Undo the chain bindings. Speak the gems for me. You will be well rewarded.”

Lin held her breath as they lowered her into the pit, hoping to hear Sima’s answer over the sound of the chains against the metal walls.

* * *

Under Nal’s gaze, Sima began to sweat. If Nal were the ruler now, she could command a lapidary of her own. But Sima was bound to Lin. Or she had been.

Power,
whispered the stones.

Sima thought of the long river and the world beyond the valley. A world she had never seen. She looked at Lin.
A lapidary protects their Jewel.

Sima shook her head. She tried to shape her words as disappointment, not dissent. “The cutting wheels were broken before your army came, Commander. There are no more gems. And I am not a very good lapidary.”