The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses) (21 page)

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Authors: Sharon Shinn

BOOK: The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses)
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Casserah was unimpressed. “I never talk to anyone as if we’re old friends,” she said. “I don’t like most people. And I never remember anyone I’ve met before. People constantly expect to be reintroduced to me.”
 
“That must have won you many friends among the Twelve Houses.”
 
Malcolm wore a faint smile. “She’s too much like me. She cares about only one of those Twelve.”
 
“I’ll make you a list,” Casserah promised. “The people who might actually expect me to remember their names—maybe I’ll even write down a conversation we’ve had in the past, so you know a few details. Everyone else you can be rude to. And if they say, ‘Don’t you remember? We sat next to each other in Ghosenhall last year,’ you can just say, ‘I’m so sorry. People rarely make an impression on me. What was your name again?’ It’s what anyone would expect of me.”
 
“I think it would be easier if you would go yourself,” Kirra said.
 
“Well, I won’t.”
 
“You don’t have to do it,” Malcolm said. “But I do think it would be interesting for Danalustrous to be represented at these events—and if you go as yourself—”
 
Kirra nodded. “Too many people distrust me. And they’ll be far more interested in courting Casserah than Kirra. I agree. I just—”
 
“It’ll be fun,” Casserah said. “Remember how many times we used to fool my mother when we were little?”
 
“Never more than five minutes at a time!”
 
“I think Jannis is one of the few people who knows Casserah as well as you do,” Malcolm said. “One would expect her to recognize her daughter.”
 
Kirra sighed and thought of more objections. Pointless to voice them, though. She actually agreed with her father that Danalustrous should have an emissary at the summer social events and that Casserah was the perfect person to send. And the charade appealed to her adventurous spirit, no question about it, but there were just so many ways to fail. She didn’t want to embarrass her sister, herself, or Danalustrous.
 
“If I do this,” she said to Casserah in a warning voice, “you better be prepared for the damage I might cause.”
 
“Accidentally or on purpose?” Casserah inquired.
 
Kirra laughed. “Either! Though I have to say, it will be hard for me to resist—oh, shall we say, playing a few games when I’m dressed up as you.”
 
“I don’t care what you do,” Casserah said.
 
“Even if I go flirting with some of the handsome lords? Even if I kiss a few young men at midnight on some ballroom balcony? You might be surprised to find how many younger sons come calling in Danalustrous once the season is over.”
 
Casserah looked amused. “Just let me know what promises you’ve made to them so I know what debts to pay.”
 
“Father and I were saying, just the other day,” Kirra said, “now that you’re heir, it’s time to find you a husband. Maybe I’ll pick out someone who seems suitable and encourage him to come back here to make you an offer. You wouldn’t mind that, would you?”
 
Casserah shook her dark head and leaned back in her chair, perfectly relaxed. “No,” she said, “I wouldn’t mind at all.”
 
 
 
IT was not as easy to be Casserah as it was to be Kirra, at least in terms of physical baggage. Once she’d agreed to the impersonation, Kirra found herself bogged down in details. Casserah rarely traveled outside the borders of Danalustrous, and when she did, she never traveled alone. “I always bring a maid and two or three guards,” she said. “Most people do, you know. Everyone will expect it.”
 
“Donnal can be my maid.”
 
Casserah looked at her for a moment. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Now, you’ll need at least five ballgowns as well as a dozen or so dresses for other events, and the jewelry that I always wear with each outfit.”
 
“Donnal’s posed as my maid before,” Kirra argued.
 
“Donnal, I think, cannot guarantee my appearance is exactly as I would want,” Casserah said. “I will send Melly with you. She will know how to make you look exactly right.”
 
“And will Melly know I’m me and not you?”
 
“I think she’d better,” Casserah said with a laugh.
 
“You can trust her not to tell anyone?”
 
“You can trust Donnal?”
 
Ah—well—if that was to be the standard, then Melly could be counted on to give her life for her mistress. “This is getting complicated,” Kirra said. “I’m used to traveling light.”
 
“Well, I require a retinue,” Casserah said. “You will find they come in most handy.”
 
Kirra escaped the plotting and the planning as often as she could. While the young Danalustrous lords were still on hand, she went riding with them—and the day after they left, Donnal returned. He was in her room waiting for her as she went up after dinner, a black hound curled up on the foot of her bed.
 
“Hey, you’re back,” she said, giving him a rough pat on the head and tugging on his silky ears. “I assume everyone in your family was well? Happy to see you?” He made no answer, just tilted his head up a little so she could scratch under his chin. “It has been
quite
the interesting few days here.”
 
He brought one ear forward as if to ask for more information, and she dropped to the bed next to him, burying her fingers in his fur. “Oh, let’s see. I spent some time with Berric and Beatrice, then I came back here for the banquet. Where my father announced to all his vassals that he was naming Casserah heir.”
 
Donnal scrambled up to all fours, somewhat unsteady on the soft mattress, and gave a little bark. “Yes, it
was
a little unsettling, though he’d told me already, so it wasn’t a complete shock.” She hesitated, then sighed. “Actually, it wasn’t a shock even when he told me. I had been thinking for some time that I didn’t know what I would do with Danalustrous when it fell to my hands. I just didn’t follow my thoughts to the obvious conclusion. But trust my father to refuse to flinch away from a hard task.”
 
Donnal whined and came closer, his paws scrabbling on her thigh, his wet nose against her face. He whined again and licked her cheek. She laughed and put her arms around his neck, laying her face against the brushy fur for a moment.
 
“Thank you, but I don’t think I need any sympathy,” she said. “Just time to get used to the idea. I’m almost used to it already.”
 
He licked her again and sat back on his haunches, watching her closely. He could tell there was more to the story and was clearly interested in the rest.
 
“The next day, my father revealed his great plan,” she said. “He thinks Casserah should go to the Twelve Houses for the summer season—see how people react to her now that she’s heir. But she says she won’t go.”
 
Donnal uttered a short, sharp bark, his tail beating twice against the coverlet.
 
Kirra laughed. “Aren’t you a smart doggie! You’re exactly right. They want me to go in her place. And, Bright Mother burn me, I think it will be fun. Though it requires much more—” She waved her hands in the air. “More
preparation
than I would have thought. We’ll probably leave at the end of the week.”
 
Again, the single ear brought forward to create a quizzical look on the furred black face. Kirra nodded.
 
“Yes. A maid, two or three guards—a whole entourage. I said you could be my maid but Casserah said no. You can be a guard if you like.”
 
Donnal sank back down on the bed, resting his nose between his paws. “Or you can go as you are,” Kirra said. She patted the top of his head and drew one of the satiny ears between her fingers. “And who knows? It might be fun. Perhaps we’ll run into someone we know at one of the parties. Darryn Rappengrass, maybe, or Mayva Nocklyn—though Mayva’s not my favorite person—or, I don’t know, anyone.”
Romar Brendyn.
Best not to hope for that. The thought of his name triggered a memory and she jumped to her feet. “Oh! I forgot. A package came for you a few days ago.”
 
Donnal lifted his head and looked unconvinced. “Really, for you. Apparently Romar Brendyn purchased gifts for you and Cammon and Justin to thank you for your part in rescuing him. The package went to Ghosenhall, and Cammon sent yours here.” She rummaged through the clutter on top of her armoire before she found the gift, bulky and soft, still wrapped in plain brown paper. “I didn’t open it,” she said.
 
Donnal pushed himself up to his forelegs when she approached the bed and sniffed at the paper but didn’t seem curious enough about the contents to change himself to human shape and rip it off. “Would you like me to open it for you?” Kirra asked, because really she was dying to know what was inside.
 
Donnal yawned, his pink tongue making a perfect curl between his pointed white teeth.
 
“Well, if you won’t tell me no, I’ll assume you mean yes,” Kirra said, slightly annoyed. She climbed back on the bed beside Donnal and slipped the string off the four corners and then tore at the paper. What she could instantly see was a pile of fine-spun wool in a midnight color, and she loosed an exclamation of pleasure as she buried her hands in the soft folds. Then she stood up and shook it out to discover Romar had sent Donnal a cloak, long enough to fall from shoulder to booted heel, that closed at the throat with a silver clasp cast in the shape of a wolf ’s head.
 
“Oh,”
Kirra said, holding it up for Donnal to see, then slinging it around her own shoulders because she could not resist. “This is beautiful. Look, it fits me perfectly, so you know it will fit you, because we’re exactly the same height. And did you see the clasp? What a thoughtful gift.”
 
She twirled around once and then went to stand before her mirror, turning this way and that to admire the way the fabric flirted around her ankles. The cut and the color were both too severe for her but she admired the craftsmanship anyway. She was astonished at the thoughtfulness that had enabled Romar to choose three such perfect remembrances for three such different men. Not one noble in fifty would even have thought to thank servants or soldiers for any special efforts expended on his behalf; those few who did present a reward were most likely to offer money. But Romar had noted the personalities and preferences of the individual men and had given each one a customized and perfectly gauged gift. Kirra wasn’t sure even her father could have succeeded so well.
 
She spun away from the mirror to make some other comment to Donnal, but he had lost interest in the gift, in Romar Brendyn, in her. He had settled back on the bed and closed his eyes and gave every appearance of having fallen immediately asleep.
 
 
 
TWO days before they left for Ghosenhall, their first stop on the summer circuit, Kirra and Donnal took a much shorter excursion to a site in the interior of Danalustrous. Kirra was very tired of pomp already—before her trip had even begun!—so she changed herself into a brush lion and loped alongside Donnal through the flat green countryside. They were careful to skirt the farms and small towns that fell along their route, but now and then they spotted riders from a distance, or farmers working in the fields. Twice they startled hunters stalking through the occasional stand of trees. A sight to dumbfound anyone privileged to see it—a sleek golden lion pacing side by side with a white-faced wolf—but no one in Danalustrous would be amazed. No hunter in Danalustrous would lift his bow, no farmer would run back to his house crying of abominations.
That’s the marlord’s shiftling daughter and one of her mystic friends,
they would say to themselves or their companions. Even those who distrusted mystics, even those who feared them, recognized Kirra in this guise. No one would lift a hand to hurt her.
 
At least in Danalustrous.
 
It took most of a day of hard running to make it to their destination, a place that only Donnal had been before. It was a small, broken building deep in a stretch of untouched forest situated very near the center of Danalustrous. Kirra could not imagine there had ever been any kind of trail to lead people to the site. She slipped slowly from animal shape to human as they came to a halt outside it.
 
“You, too,” she said, her hand on the back of Donnal’s neck. “Just for the afternoon.”
 
Moments later, he stood beside her dressed in drab country garb, his beard as neat as if he had trimmed it the night before. Arm in arm, they slowly stepped through the rubble and into the building’s remaining foundation.
 
They were deep enough in the woods that not much sunlight broke through the tree cover to illuminate the small space. There was even less light because it was early evening and the sun was already close to the horizon. Not that there was much to see, for the whole place was essentially a ruin. Kirra could tell that it had once been roughly square, maybe twelve feet by twelve. What walls remained stopped shortly above her head, so she guessed the ceiling had been low; if there had ever been a floor, it had all rotted away. Three sides of the building were open to the elements, leaving behind only partial walls and tumbled stones.

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