The Sand Prince (28 page)

"I hate these things! Why do you let me smoke them? I quit!" She threw it, still smoldering, into the bushes. Moth circled around behind her, admiring her slight form while ignoring her chatter. She was nearly the correct size, as narrow and neat as the women back home. Tall, of course, but that went for all of them. He was sorry to see that her bright hair was carefully coiffed, and imagined himself taking the pins out. The vividness of the image, his hand touching her hair, surprised him. Her dress was black lace with several sheer panels. The gloves reached her elbow and were also made of black lace, and looked slippery. It wasn't helping her coordination.

He had noticed these humans came in all different sizes—maybe that was how they could tell each other apart? There were not only men, but he'd even spotted a woman who was as tall as he was. And no one stared at anyone else with distaste or pity, at least not that he could tell.

"You say that three times a week," said one of those tall young men. His yellow hair was cut short (most of the men had short hair) and his jacket was quite fine. The blond man was looking at Lelet like she was something good to eat. Was this the crier? "Would've lit it for you if I thought you'd really smoke it." He glared at where the demon had been standing, then frowned vaguely, shrugged and completely forgot what he'd seen.

Lelet gulped the rest of her wine and said, "Well this time I mean it, Billah. May will lop off my head if I keep it up. She thinks it’s unladylike." She peered up at the blond boy through her dark lashes. "Billah,
you
don't think I'm unladylike, do you?"

"Oh no, you're sometimes something like a lady," he said.

They all laughed again, although the girl's smile was a bit forced. She shared a glance with the round girl, who shrugged and dramatically wiped away an imaginary tear. Lelet held the empty glass up over her shoulder and said to Moth, "Get me another, won't you, darling?"

She assumes a lot
, he thought.
She is used to a lot. She speaks to me to hurt the boy, but she doesn't know I'm even here. Only that someone will get her what she wants.
He leaned forward. "Of course," he whispered in her ear.

The girl shivered and then put a hand to her temple. She frowned. "Who has my matches?"

Moth took the glass, threw it in the fishpond, and vanished into the dark street beyond the garden.

***

M
oth found an empty rooftop and practiced the match trick (scratch, flare) until second moonrise. Then he lit the candle.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"

"No need to shout. I had some trouble with the candle."

In the little flame, he was pleased to see that see Scilla was nearly purple in the face. She took a series of deep breaths.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Not sure. On top of a bunch of pushed together houses. There's no one around, it's late. I just went to the nicest party. Too bad you couldn't go yourself."

He could practically hear her teeth grinding. "Did you see my sister? Did she see you?"

"I saw her. She seems like quite a popular girl. Lots of friends. I liked her. She didn't see me. No, that's not it. What happened was, she didn't notice me." He knew the child wanted a full report but there was no reason to help more than he had to. "No one did. And wine. Now, wine is a really nice thing. Do they serve wine where you are?"

She looked as if she might combust. "No. They do not. But you know what they do serve? A big glass of not having to do what your human MASTER tells you to do. Now. Did. You. Do. What. I. Said."

He sat back on his heels. "Yes. Powder in the wine. Are we done here?"

"Mirrors. Two nights from now. And don't have any more 'trouble with the candle'." She leaned forward and blew her own candle out.

He did the same.
Very nice work, provoking a fight with a little girl who quite literally owns you
. He wished Ilaan were there, he'd have loved that party. The noisemakers, he had to find out more about them.

He looked around. Another one of those tiny, angry looking dogs was watching him from the edge of the roofline. This one was black. It made a great show of licking its front paw, then turned and vanished into the darkness.

Like me. There and then not there. Well, I suppose I ought to find a quiet place to sleep.
He thought about his comfortable bed back home, the food that appeared at mealtime, clean clothes, and cool water.
I wanted this, and look! Now I've got it. But this is not what I expected.

He thought about the girl’s grey eyes. He hoped her headache wasn’t a bad one.

––––––––

"
You must at least consider our proposal, my Lord."

"Must? Now a peasant from the hills is telling me what I must do! Be gone and go back to your fat cow of a wife and take this slattern with you."

The Duke strode to the window, showing them his broad back. The interview was over.

Gwenyth struggled not to cry in front of the Duke. Her father touched her shoulder and they rose from the table.

-The Claiming of the Duke, pg 19

Malloy Dos Capeheart, Little Gorda Press (out of print)

––––––––

M
istra

100 years after the War of the Door, Mistran calendar

20 years later, Eriisai calendar

va’Everley family residence

The headache kept Lelet from coming down to breakfast on time. Everyone knew she relied on her coffee and chocolate to start her day, it was absolutely required. So the rest of them ate with one eye on the stairwell and with some trepidation. Except for Rane, who smiled at nothing and ate with his usual enthusiasm. May figured she’d give her sister another 20 minutes and then send up a tray.

She had just started to ring for the maid when Lelet made her entrance. Her dark green velvet dressing gown paired poorly with her bright pink hair, which at the moment stuck out like she'd lost her comb. In fact, she looked like a stale candy.

"Slip something in my wine, Rane? So obvious." She held a shaky hand to her forehead, genuinely fearing it might pop off. "I could
so
use a cigarette."

Rane barely glanced up. "Drinks and smokes. Very elegant, Madame va’Everly. You
are
still drunk, correct?"

Lelet let go of her head long enough to snap at her brother. "That is not true, and even if it were you’re still a liar. Do you expect me—"

May broke in, "Yes dear. He’s a liar, we all know. You’re a silly whore. He’s mad. You’re fat."

"I am not fat."

May wasn’t finished. "We’ve heard it all before, was my point." She looked around the table. The eldest va’Everly, Pol, was reading the newspaper. The youngest, Scilla, was sipping chocolate with one hand and writing in her little notebook with the other. Of the siblings, Scilla and May looked most similar, both like carved cameos with wide eyes and long, curling dark hair. Pol, Rane and Lelet were all fair and grey eyed, but no one dared to mention how similar Lelet and Rane looked. At the moment, Rane's hair was longer than Lelet's.

Scilla looked up. "What?" She blinked at her siblings as if she'd just woken up. "Lelly. Missed you at dinner last night. You know I leave after breakfast."

Lelet shrugged. "Sorry, Scil. Something came up. We'll have a nice dinner together next time. Or maybe I'll come visit you at school."

"Of course she will. That would be lovely of you. Lelly, maybe you can take a writing class with that teacher Scil's been talking about. You know the one," said May. It would get Lelet out of the house and give her a hobby that didn't require a team of workmen and a lot of money. "The one who wrote that book." Scilla looked dubious, but said nothing. May continued, "Lelet, get your coffee and take some powder for your head, it’s at your plate."

May ran the meals—and the household—with precision and economy. Or at least she liked to think she did. Sometimes she wondered if anyone would notice if she simply drifted down to breakfast and expected the coffee to be hot and the table set. Last night, now that was a failure of economy, in that the meal had been rather more lavish than a midweek dinner might normally be. But Scilla was so excited to share her last meal at home with her family. No. Her last meal with Lelet, the unlikely and unknowing object of Scilla's worship. Lelet, who so casually dropped hints and tidbits of the life Scilla herself would never get to experience. Lelet, who barely noticed anything that didn't result in a new dress on her back or a new boy on her arm. Lelet, who never showed up for dinner. And here she was, grey faced and smelling like cigarette smoke, but still ready to jump back into the fray with her brother.

The fighting between her two siblings was no longer acceptable. It was unbecoming. In fact, she had resolved to Do Something. What, exactly, she wasn't sure. What would Mother do? May would ask herself, although she didn't like to think about the answer. What would Father do was more tempting because the answer was to leave and just not come home.

May watched the unfolding breakfast skirmish as Lelet slid into her seat at the long table. She contemplated eggs but paused with her fork in midair as if it were all too much. Rane helpfully passed her a plate of duck sausage, bursting with garlic. She gave him a withering glare and pushed them as far from her plate as she could reach. He quickly replaced the plate with a platter of creamed herring. She defiantly speared a bite of fish with her fork and made a great show of eating it. He nodded appreciatively and conceded the battlefield of the breakfast table.

With Lelet sorted out for the moment, May turned to Scilla, lost as usual in her journal.

"Scilla, are you nearly ready? I’ll call Per to bring the trap around. Here, I’ve packed some lunch for your trip. You're to stay at these two inns, the keepers are expecting you and it’s all settled, just do try and write when you get back to the Guardhouse."

Poor Scilla
, May thought. She hoped her little sister was making nice new friends and learning... whatever it was they taught out there. She certainly spent enough time taking notes, she must be studying something special.

Scilla looked up with a smile as she closed her little book. "I’m ready, all packed. Thank you, May. This has been the best trip ever."

***

A
fter they had seen Scilla off, May and Lelet set off on their morning walk around the garden. It was a lovely, warm day. There wouldn't be many more before the Sugar-Be-Gones would go to seed and they'd find frost on the last few roses.

"Your head?" inquired May, snipping a bunch of mint. She handed it over. She knew Lelet loved the bright aroma.

"Better, thank you." She held the herbs to her face, crushing the leaves and inhaling deeply and with pleasure. "But I know it was Rane—"

"Yes, let’s talk about you and Rane. It’s time for this to stop." May closed her gardening scissors and put them in her basket. She knew Lelet would have a laundry list of reasons why her fight with Rane was good and true, and how no one understood her torment. This was a conversation she'd been working up to for some time. She didn't like a scene. And true to form, Lelet had begun her defense.

"But I didn’t do anything!" She dropped the crushed stems. The fragrance clung to her hands and rose around them both.

A lovely aroma
, thought May,
for an unlovely chat. Well, no putting it off now.

"Hmm. You will, though. Of course you’ll retaliate. What happened when he snapped the heels off all your shoes?" May asked.

"I put spiders in
his
shoes," Lelet nodded.

"And what about that thing... he told Billah? About you and the groom?" May made a face.

"Hmm? What thing?" Lelet gave her sister an innocent smile.

"You know... the
thing.
" May's eyes got wide and she pinched Lelet on the arm.

"Thing... thing....Oh, you mean the thing where he said I was F-U-C-K-ing the groom?"

May flung up a hand. She hated that kind of talk.

"I know," Lelet said, "I 'm sorry. You're right, that's crass. He said we were doing
the thing
. We were disturbing the horses, we were—"

"I know you think this is funny, Lelly. But please remind me what you did in return."

"I poured his precious whiskey into his wardrobe, as you know. Rane ruined everything,
again
. What if I wanted to marry Billah?"

"Really? Marry Billah. Really."

Lelet blushed but held her ground.

"You will not be marrying that boy. He believed Rane, for one thing. That's an indication of a mind, shall we say, a bit too wide open. Beyond that, I have had to have too many conversations with the Families regarding your... special relationship with your brother."

"I didn’t start it." Lelet folded her arms.

"By the Veil, Lel, are you five years old? It’s tiresome to me and embarrassing to the Family. You know it’s my responsibility to wed, and soon. And do you know what everyone asks? They want to know how it stands with you two. It was one thing when you were in the nursery, but now it’s the next thing to brawling in the streets. I don’t like having to explain another round of ‘high spiritedness’ to my callers." Her callers, who before they even sat down for tea or wine looked cautiously around the dining room for signs of incipient warfare. It was like living with zoo animals, with someone always ready to pounce.

Lelet curled up next to her sister on a little stone bench. May shook her head at Lelly's foolishness and stroked her vivid pink hair.
This color
, she thought,
has got to go
.

"Why do you have to marry some rich Family boy? I won’t like him. I want things to stay like they are."

"Lelet, you are not a child. You know perfectly well that the eldest runs the business and the next makes a good marriage. You know it’s my job, just as Scilla has a job."

"I don’t. Rane doesn’t. There’s never anything to do. It’s so boring. What if I wanted to study at the Guardhouse, or do what Pol does?"