The King's Daughters (32 page)

"You're too weak, Amir. You must sit down," Diego said in a panic. He nudged Lars a little to the side, making space on the bed for me to sit.

I gasped. I had just found the solution to my problem: Diego. He wasn't a shal-galt or a seeker; therefore he couldn't sense magic, so it didn't affect him as it did me.

"Listen to me, Diego. Look at Lars's hand, at his ring finger. You'll see a hair wrapped around it."

Before I could explain further, Diego bent down and plucked out the hair from Lars's finger. "This, you mean?" he asked, raising the long hair in front of my face.

"Er . . . yes."

Just then I heard a strangled, gurgling sound coming from behind me in the bed.

I turned around, and, to my amazement, I saw that Lars's eyes were wide open. In a sudden move, he sat up. With a face contorted by a look of terror, Lars took a few gasping gulps of air, bent forward, and vomited violently. Streams of steaming, putrid lake water shot out of him in quantities that defied all logic. Everyone present in the room either gagged in disgust or gasped in shock.

Finally, after some last forceful retching, Lars expelled a huge lump of green hair.

The green lump hit the bed covering with the most unpleasant wet thud. Seemingly emptied of all strength, Lars collapsed against his pillows. I immediately noticed that his face, although still a bit pale, had returned to a normal color. His breathing was back to normal too.

Baron Molotoff glared at me. "What did you do to him?"

"Break the spell that was on him. You appear rather displeased by this turn of events."

The baron's bushy singular eyebrow rose. "I am indeed. Because of you Sorvinka is doomed to ruin. This stupid calf doesn't have the qualities of a good ruler."

"So you admit putting this spell on him."

Molotoff chuckled. "A spell! How amusing! Prince Amir, I'm a soldier, a man of war. I settle scores on the battlefields. I know nothing of spells."

"I don't believe you. You have too much to gain by Lars's death."

The baron smiled. "The whole Empire will gain by his death. Personally, I'm not gaining anything."

"You'd gain a clear path to the throne."

The baron's smile broadened. "Young man, if I wanted the throne I could take the throne. I control the army; I have the support and love of the population. And with the unpopular rulings the king's made recently, I could successfully overthrow him if I wanted to."

I frowned, surprised by the candidness of his reply. "Why don't you then?"

"Such an act, no matter how swift and successful it may be, would weaken the Empire; scar it for years to come. And to do it now would be disastrous. With the threat of an Anchin invasion looming over us, I have to place the good of the country ahead of my personal ambitions." Squaring his shoulders and raising his chin, the baron took a stoic pose. "It is my duty, not as a noble or an officer, but as a Sorvinkian. As such I cannot do anything that would jeopardize the motherland's safety."

"But you can kidnap princesses and wish the heir's death."

"Kidnap princesses! Why would I do such a senseless thing? I have three sons, why would I deprive them of potential mates. Prince Amir, you are looking at the wrong person. I have nothing to do with those crimes. As for the heir, I admit that I did wish his death. But as far as I know, wishing is not a crime."

The man had an answer for everything it seemed. I believed none of them though. "Well, I won't apologize for breaking your wish and saving Lars. Looks like he's going to be king after all."

The baron lowered a gaze dripping with contempt toward Lars, his bushy eyebrows furrowed, and his upper lip rose exposing his teeth in a sneer of loathing. "Not necessarily. There could still be hope for Sorvinka's future. Things have changed. Maybe now that the king is getting remarried, to a Sorvinkian woman this time, the situation will improve. Perhaps our king will finally have a son this time. If nothing else, the countess will see that our customs, cults, and traditions are reinstated and respected. At least the gods will be pleased." Looking rather satisfied about it himself, Baron Molotoff saluted us then exited the room with his group.

Moments later, the room became overcrowded with so many physicians, valets, and counselors that there was literally no place left for us. So Diego and I decided to return to my rooms.

"Diego, do you believe what the baron said or do you think he's involved in this?"

Diego didn't think long before answering. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know."

"Well, you're helpful!" I said.

He shrugged. "Sorry, Amir, I'm not good at solving puzzles. When things get too complicated I usually lose interest."

I smiled. I truly believed that. Just as I believed Diego had nothing to do with this affair. He didn't have the cold, calculated temperament needed to plan such an elaborate plot.
He's as innocent as I am.
My mind made up, I decided to tell him all I had learned so far, starting with Isabo's innocence, my shal-galt gifts, and the princesses' enchantments. I told him everything . . . even the painful news of Thalia's death.

Upon hearing this sad news, Diego stopped. "Thalia, she recognized me . . . that's why the bear . . . she stopped." Curling his hands into hard fists, Diego hissed through clenched teeth, "I want that spell caster dead! Amir, promise me that you'll let me put an end to his wretched life."

"Well, first we must discover who it is." Strangely enough, although my heart kept screaming that it was that devilish baron, my brain said something else:
What about the princesses? Why would he need them gone? Girls cannot rule, they pose no threat to him.

The Baba's words came floating back to the top of my mind:
a means to an end.
Was destroying the king's family the means or the end? I sighed. The answer was simple. I knew it was.

"There's something I don't understand, Amir," said Diego.

"Which is?"

"You said that both members of the Anchin pair possess that . . . gift you have. So why didn't they realize that Lars was under a spell the moment they touched him, right at the lake. Wasn't he covered in that green algae then?"

"Huh, I didn't think about that." Looking back at the incident by the lake, I could see Lilloh ripping the sea-hag hair from around Lars's neck. She should have sensed something . . . unless. "Lilloh can sense magic but not spirits and demons. So the sea-hag hair did nothing to her because it belonged to a water spirit. Unfortunately, she got rid of it before Khuan could touch it."

"All right," Diego said. "What about the spell you just broke, wasn't it on him back then?"

"Obviously not. Whoever is behind this thought that drowning Lars would be enough. He didn't plan on Khuan and Lilloh bringing him back to life. The spell was placed after, using the sea-hag hair so the illness produced by it would look like a consequence of his dip in the icy water of the lake."

Diego nodded, yet I could tell something was still bothering him. He cleared his throat. "Drowning him . . . so falling through the ice wasn't an accident then. Fine, I can understand that part, not the rest however. First, where can one get his hands on sea-hag hair? I'm quite sure the creature that owns that hair wouldn't give it up freely. And why kill Lars anyway? Sure, he's a bumbling idiot, but that hardly deserves death."

I nodded silently. It was useless to speak because I couldn't answer any of those questions. No matter how much thought I put into this matter, I couldn't figure out anything right now. It was like my brain was wrapped in wool. That was so infuriating, I wanted to break something.

We had reached a corridor junction and stopped to let two maids pass so they could go prepare the banquet hall for the king's wedding announcement. Carrying buckets of water, they hurried down the corridor, leaving a trail of droplets behind. As I noticed the glistening trail of water, something in my mind clicked and part of the fog surrounding this riddle suddenly dissipated. I could see part of the solution. I thought I knew the end. Now all I needed was to find who'd engineered it.

"Change of plan, Diego. Follow me. We have no time to waste."

Where are we going in such a hurry?" Diego huffed, trotting behind me.

"To find someone who can give us information on Sorvinkian deities."

"Why? Are we going to battle a god?"

"No. Its disciples, a grand priest maybe. I'm not sure." I sighed. What if I was wrong? What if I failed again?
Stop!
I ordered myself.
No more doubts, stop it!
I took a deep breath and continued, "Anyway, I think it might be linked to water."

"There are at least five Sorvinkian water deities that I know of. Perhaps if you can be more specific."

"Well, I think it is symbolized by a giant sea monster."

"A giant sea monster, uh?"

"You know which god that is?"

Diego shrugged. "I have a vague recollection of having heard of it. Nothing useful comes to mind though."

"I was thinking of asking Milo's servant friends to tell me about their gods. To my knowledge, no one knows more about gods than servants."

Diego nodded in agreement. "Good idea. Actually, I personally know a couple of maids who will gladly answer any question I ask them. They might even draw a few pictures for you."

Something Diego said brought me to an abrupt halt. "A picture! I think there is already one. Come, I'll show it to you."

I led Diego to the indoor well. I remembered having seen a carving on its stone rim. But the instant the well fell into view I was faced with a new problem. The
Point of Power
located on the well's rim pulsated with such force it was nauseating. I couldn't get close enough to look at the carving. The waves of energy rushing out of it were just too strong for me to combat.

Diego on the other hand walked to the well without demonstrating any discomfort. He dusted off the flat stone of the well's rim, looked at the carving, then stared at me. "You said a sea monster. That's not a sea monster."

"It's not?" I was sure it was. Dumfounded, I tried to recall the carving. I had seen it only once, and very briefly, when Lilloh had placed my hand on the
Point of Power
. So its image was a little vague in my mind. "Er . . . Diego, isn't it a carving of a giant scaly fish with the face of a man and long hair?"

"Yes."

"Well, to me, that's the description of a sea monster."

Diego shook his head. "No. That's the description of Samu. Amir, this is a carving of Samu, the god of running water, seduction, and beauty. It's not a priest we should be looking for, but a priestess. A woman is always at the head of the cult of Samu . . . Oh goodness!" Diego's face became as white as milk.

"What is it?"

"The disciples of Samu must all be young and beautiful."

"All young and beautiful!" I repeated. At once, everything became crystal clear in my mind. "It's Countess Ivana. She's using water as magical conduits." The image of the water pitcher in the princesses' rooms, the bowl of water in Isabo's cell, the lake . . . oh god, the lake. I could see her dropping to her knees. Back then I thought she was praying for us. If she was praying, it wasn't for us. Now I believed she was calling Samu to her aid. I shook my head. Something didn't fit. "The disciples the ghoul talked about were the disciples of Samu. What about the old one? It's not Ivana. So who could it be?"

"Samu itself maybe," ventured Diego.

"I don't know . . . I have trouble believing that." Suddenly, I felt confused and unsure of myself. My fondness for Ivana, the kindness she had displayed toward me clouded my judgment and filled my mind with doubts. I looked up at Diego. "I'm not convinced. Perhaps we're moving too fast. Maybe we're wrong about her involvement in this affair. After all, Ivana helped me to enter Eva's room and—"

"And nearly got you caught by the king," interjected Diego. "Ivana knew the king would rush to Eva's room. She wanted him to discover the two of you in bed together, which would've meant death for you and disownment for Eva. No need changing your
beloved
princess into a bear after that."

My jaw dropped. I could've kicked myself for my naïveté, and for having once liked that devious creature. Suddenly nauseous, I closed my eyes. I felt so betrayed and disgusted it was making me sick. How could I have been so naïve, so trusting. I hated myself for it. But I hated Ivana more. My nausea morphed into outrage; I opened my eyes and looked at Diego. "You are right, my friend, she's guilty! We must warn the king before he makes his engagement to her official."

As we turned to rush to the banquet hall, we found ourselves face-to-face with Countess Ivana's friends. I counted eight disciples, all male. I supposed the female disciples were now busy assisting the countess.

Diego rushed to my side. "Amir, these are the prayers we saw in Lars' room. They followed us."

I didn't say a word, I just pulled out my rapier. But before I could step up to meet the advancing enemy, Diego pushed me aside and, screaming like a banshee, charged our attackers.

Taken aback by Diego's flash attack, the disciples of Samu froze. By the time they realized what was happening, two of them had been struck down by Diego's blade. That awakened the others and they started fighting back. Within moments, they were all over us.

Parrying blows coming from two different disciples, I found myself being pushed toward the well. My head began spinning. The periphery of my vision darkened. Struck by panic, I threw myself on the floor and rolled toward the bottom of the staircase. One of my attackers dashed after me. Before I could rise to my feet, he tried stabbing me from above. I twisted to the left and simultaneously thrust my rapier under his ribs. Just as he was falling down, I pushed him against his acolyte. They both hit the floor, which gained me a few precious seconds. Leaping to my feet, I managed to climb the first steps of the stairs before my second attacker rushed me again.

As the action unfolded, I caught glimpses of Diego who was still battling two foes. Then I witnessed an act that was so despicable, so immoral, that it iced my blood. I saw one of Diego's attackers throw himself on my friend's blade. In a last dying effort, the disciple embraced Diego in his arms, holding him tightly in place. At first I was confounded by this behavior, but when the second disciple appeared behind Diego and raised his sword to stab him in the back, I realized the goal of this sacrifice. "Diego, behind you!" I yelled.