The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses) (68 page)
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Authors: Sharon Shinn
BOOK: The Thirteenth House (Twelve Houses)
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He gave a big doggie yawn, his pink tongue curling in disdain. She looked at Tayse. “Can’t I just leave him like this?”
Tayse barely smiled. “No.”
Justin’s tongue brushed her hand again. She put both palms on either side of his narrow face and said, “Sit still.” Cammon came over, so close she could feel his knee against her back. That sparkling heat filled her again, made her veins sizzle.
This time she didn’t close her eyes. She stared down at the dog and thought of Justin, with his sandy hair and scoffing expression and warrior’s reflexes. She hated him and she loved him and he was her friend, and she conjured him up from memory and will.
His metamorphosis was as rapid as Donnal’s always were. One moment, a mutt. The next, a man, crouched on the floor with his face between her hands. There was a frozen minute when no one spoke or moved, and then Justin pulled himself free and stood up. He was laughing. Kirra had never seen him look so absolutely given over to delight.
“
That’s
something I want to do again!” he exclaimed. “I never had so much fun! And think of the possibilities! Tayse, can you imagine? She could send a whole battalion of soldiers across enemy lines, disguised as cats or squirrels or birds, and once they were in position, they would be turned back into men—”
That’s
something I want to do again!” he exclaimed. “I never had so much fun! And think of the possibilities! Tayse, can you imagine? She could send a whole battalion of soldiers across enemy lines, disguised as cats or squirrels or birds, and once they were in position, they would be turned back into men—”
“Precisely the reason people fear shiftlings,” Senneth murmured.
“How were your senses? Did you lose your regular thought processes?” Tayse wanted to know.
“No! It was—it was strange, my body felt strange, but I—and my eyes were different, what I could see—but I could hear things and smell things—it would take a little practice, I think, but I could run a race in that shape, or catch a rabbit or—just be a dog.”
Cammon reached down to pull Kirra off the floor. She said, “You don’t lose your sense of self. It’s filtered a little, but it’s still there. It’s hard to explain.”
Tayse looked at her. “
Could
you really change a whole battalion of soldiers and send them across enemy lines?”
Could
you really change a whole battalion of soldiers and send them across enemy lines?”
She laughed nervously. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know I could do this.”
“Something to think about,” Tayse said.
“Later,” Senneth said. “Today she has a little girl to heal.”
CAMMON accompanied her to the dark room in the upper story. Ariane, Bella, and Marco were all still there. Lyrie was sitting up in bed, eating what looked like toast. She smiled and waved from across the room when Kirra stepped through the door.
Ariane met them before they had gone three paces. “Well? What have you decided?”
“I think I can do this. I think I can try,” Kirra amended. “I am afraid to make promises. But someone must explain to Lyrie—”
“She wants to do it,” Ariane interrupted. “I asked her—when you were gone—I told them all what you were thinking.”
“And they agreed? All of them? Because if I make a mistake, it will be a terrible one.”
“Marco has already been to the stables and gotten a bundle of herbs from the head groom. He told the man that one of the house dogs had fallen sick, and the groom told him how to mix the potion. Everyone wants to do this, Kirra.”
“I just want you to be sure.”
“I’m sure.”
But she asked Lyrie, too, when she seated herself once more on the side of the bed. “You understand what I want to do?” she asked, studying the wide, eager face.
“Yes. You’re going to turn me into a dog. And I’ll take medicine for a week and then I’ll be better.”
“If everything works. If the magic holds, if the potion is just right, if I am able to do the spells. Lyrie, I have never done this before, and I—”
“I want to,” the girl interrupted. “Please. I don’t care if it hurts.”
“It won’t hurt,” Cammon said.
Lyrie and her relatives all looked at him. “This is Cammon,” Kirra said hastily. “He’s also a mystic. Not a shape-shifter, a—Well, a man with strange gifts. He’s going to help me.”
He smiled down at Lyrie. Impossible, but he seemed entirely at ease. “I’ll be able to tell if something’s going wrong,” he said. “If something’s hurting you. I’m good at reading people’s emotions.”
Lyrie looked interested. “Will you be able to talk to me when I’m a dog?”
“Probably not,” Cammon said.
Bella leaned forward and touched Lyrie’s hand to get her attention. “Baby, you understand you’ll have to be a dog for a few days. A week. You understand it takes a long time for the medicine to take effect.”
“I know,” Lyrie said.
“She’ll be able to understand you,” Kirra said. “She’ll hear everything you say. She’ll
think
like a little girl. She just won’t—look like one. Her body will be shaped differently. Her spirit will not change.”
think
like a little girl. She just won’t—look like one. Her body will be shaped differently. Her spirit will not change.”
Bella looked terrified, but she nodded. “All right,” she whispered. “Then let’s get started.”
It went just as it had with Justin. Lyrie sat in the bed, trustfully looking up at Kirra; Cammon stood behind her, waves of magic rolling off his body. Kirra put her hands on Lyrie’s face and pictured a beloved, shaggy spaniel—small, dark-haired, sunny-tempered. This time, she felt the flat skin turn to curly fur beneath her fingers. She saw the skull melt down, the body reshape. She saw Lyrie transformed before her eyes.
Bella took a short, sharp breath and pressed her hand against her mouth. Marco did not waste time with astonishment. The instant the alteration was complete, he was kneeling on the bed beside his daughter, a bowl of shredded meat in his hand. Kirra could see how the ground green leaves of the herbs were mixed in with the main dish.
“Here,” he said, holding it to his daughter’s short, pointed nose. “Eat this. We want you to start getting well.”
CHAPTER
35
35
A
FTER that, Kirra knew, it was going to be hard to consider any other event of the Rappengrass stopover to be anything but anticlimactic. She danced back down to her room, Cammon at her heels, evanescent with magic and success.
FTER that, Kirra knew, it was going to be hard to consider any other event of the Rappengrass stopover to be anything but anticlimactic. She danced back down to her room, Cammon at her heels, evanescent with magic and success.
“You’re going to need to sleep for a while,” he warned her, and she didn’t believe him.
“I feel wonderful. I feel—really, I feel like I’m flying, and I
know
what it feels like to fly.”
know
what it feels like to fly.”
He pushed her toward her own room. “Trust me. Lie down for a little bit.”
“Am I going to get a headache like one of Senneth’s?”
“I don’t know. But I think once the euphoria’s gone, you’re going to feel like red hell.”
He held his hand out and she took the lion charm. The instant it left his palm, she felt her own body sag; hundredweights lined every bone. She staggered back, fetching up hard against her own door. “Oh,” she said. “It was you.”
“Well, some of it was me. Some of it was your own magic. But you’d better sleep now.”
“I think you’re right,” she said. She fumbled with the door latch and he had to help her inside. Melly was there to lead her to the bed, asking questions, exhibiting real concern. Kirra let Cammon offer explanations or reassurance, she didn’t care. She tumbled to bed and was almost instantly asleep.
Twilight had fallen by the time she awoke—at least two hours later, she judged. She was famished. She sat up in bed, wondering if there was anything in her room that would pass for food. She couldn’t wait till dinner. Perhaps she had already
missed
dinner. She’d have to take hawk shape, she’d have to hunt, she had to eat now, she was so hungry—
missed
dinner. She’d have to take hawk shape, she’d have to hunt, she had to eat now, she was so hungry—
“Are you awake? Cammon said you’d be starving,” came Melly’s voice and, bless that girl, she approached the bed with a tray of fruits and pastries. “This was all I could get from the kitchen, but dinner’s in an hour. You’ve got time to dress and go down.”
Kirra was cramming food in her mouth in a most unladylike fashion. “Yes. Yes, I certainly do want dinner. Let me wear—I don’t care—anything that fits.”
“Did you change your wardrobe when you changed yourself ?” Melly asked, sounding curious rather than accusatory. “Because if you didn’t—”
Kirra laughed. “Oh, a dress is a simple thing to convert,” she said merrily. “Just pull something out and throw it on my back. I’ll make it fit.”
Fifty minutes later, her hunger only partly appeased, she headed downstairs, dressed in angelic blue and feeling a resurgence of well-being. Ariane had mentioned that tonight’s dinner would be an informal buffet. Guests would mingle and talk and pause to eat and mingle some more. It sounded most charming. Especially the eating part.
Kirra had forgotten, while she was practicing miracles, that she had changed into a shape that most people here were not expecting. So when she stepped into the dining room, set up with buffet counters and a random arrangement of tables, she was almost instantly taken by surprise.
“Kirra! What are you doing here?” someone squealed, and she found herself enduring Mayva Nocklyn’s breathless embrace. “You look wonderful! Casserah didn’t say you were coming.”
Oh—yes—Casserah. Time to make explanations. Edging over to the food trays, Kirra lightly tossed off her version of the truth.
Casserah got homesick and said she wanted to return to Danan Hall. My father sent me to take her place. Oh, yes, Casserah’s already gone. We passed each other on the road. . . .
Mayva, it turned out, was not the only one who wanted to hear the story. Darryn and Seth Stowfer and Eloise Kianlever and all the nobles she’d had a single conversation with over the past few weeks each approached her with the same astonishment and set of questions. Everyone seemed happy to see her, though, and that was gratifying.
Casserah got homesick and said she wanted to return to Danan Hall. My father sent me to take her place. Oh, yes, Casserah’s already gone. We passed each other on the road. . . .
Mayva, it turned out, was not the only one who wanted to hear the story. Darryn and Seth Stowfer and Eloise Kianlever and all the nobles she’d had a single conversation with over the past few weeks each approached her with the same astonishment and set of questions. Everyone seemed happy to see her, though, and that was gratifying.
“A very elegant girl, Casserah, but not really warm,” Eloise pronounced. “She frightens me a little, to tell you the truth. No one that young should be so self-possessed.”
And the real Casserah would intimidate you even more than I did,
Kirra thought. “She was born that way,” Kirra said. “But tell me, how are
you
doing? It’s been ages since we’ve talked.”
Kirra thought. “She was born that way,” Kirra said. “But tell me, how are
you
doing? It’s been ages since we’ve talked.”
Romar was not in the room when she first walked in—she had searched for him as soon as she had filled her plate—but after the guests had been gathered for an hour or so, she saw him stride through the doorway. He scanned the crowd, seeming to look for someone he didn’t see, then made his way to Amalie’s side. Kirra watched for a moment, trying to curb her smile, then ambled over, a plate of cake in her hand.
“Maybe you should ask Senneth,” Amalie was saying. “I don’t like to think that you—oh, there’s Kirra. I haven’t seen you all evening.”
Romar turned so fast that he actually spilled a little of his wine. The expression on his face was comical—surprise, delight, worry, and just a hint of desire—but he wiped it off before Amalie could glance back over at him.
“You know Kirra Danalustrous, don’t you? Her sister was called home, and Kirra has come to take her place.”
“Yes, indeed, Kirra and I shared a very adventurous journey back from Tilt this spring,” Romar said, putting his glass down. He dried his fingers on a tablecloth, laughed, and held out his hand. “Good to see you again, serra. I hope you’ve been well.”
“I am doing splendidly,” she replied, giving him a deep curtsey. “I am delighted to be at Rappen Manor! I felt very glum to be left behind while Casserah was having all the fun. I’m glad she went home.”
“Oh, but I’ll miss her,” Amalie said.
“Nonsense,” Kirra said. “I’m sure you’ll like me much better.”
Her high spirits amused Romar, she could tell, particularly after her edginess the night before. “I assume you’ll be staying for the ball tomorrow night?” he asked.
“Absolutely! I’ve missed all the other balls. I’ll certainly be here for this one.”
“Come back with us to Ghosenhall afterward,” Amalie invited. “My father is holding a dinner party for some foreign ambassadors. I know he’d like to have you there.”
Kirra hadn’t given much thought to where she would go after Rappengrass, unofficially the last stop on the summer circuit. “Perhaps I will,” she said. “It sounds most intriguing. Ambassadors from where?”
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