Warbreaker (33 page)

She sat down on the stool, and was tempted to say that he was overreacting, but...well, she had just seen him kill two men in her defense.
I’m paying them
, she thought.
I should probably just let them do their job.
“Tonk Fah,” she said. “You can be the mean one next time.”

He looked up. “You promise?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Can I yell at the person we are interrogating?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Can I growl at him?” he asked.

“I guess,” she said.

“Can I break his fingers?”

She frowned. “No!”

“Not even the unimportant ones?” Tonk Fah asked. “I mean, people have
five
after all. The little ones don’t even do that much.” Vivenna paused, then Tonk Fah and Denth started laughing. “Oh, honestly,” she said, turning away. “I can never tell when you shift from being serious to being ridiculous.”

“That’s what makes it so funny,” Tonk Fah said, still chuckling.

“Are we leaving, then?” Vivenna said, rising.

“Nah,” Denth said. “Let’s wait a bit. I’m still not sure that Grable isn’t looking for us. Best to lay low for a few hours.”

She frowned, glancing at Denth. Tonk Fah, amazingly, was already snoring softly.

“I thought you said that Grable would let us go,” she said. “That he was just testing us—that he wanted to see how good you were.”

“It’s likely,” Denth said. “But I’ve been known to be wrong. He might have let us go because he was worried about my sword being so close to him. He could be having second thoughts. We’ll give it a few hours, then head back and ask my watchers if anyone has been poking around the house.”

“Watchers?” Vivenna asked. “You have people watching our house?”

“Of course,” Denth said. “Kids work cheap in the city. Worth the coin, even when you’re not protecting a princess from a rival kingdom.”

She folded her arms, standing. She didn’t feel like sitting, so she began to pace.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about Grable,” Denth said, eyes closed as he sat back, leaning against the wall. “This is just a precaution.”

She shook her head. “It makes sense that he’d want revenge, Denth,” she said. “You killed two of his men.”

“Men can be cheap in this city too, Princess.”

“You say he was testing you,” Vivenna said. “But what would be the point of that? Provoking you to action just to let you go?”

“To see how much of a threat I was,” Denth said, shrugging, eyes still closed. “Or, more likely, to see if I was worth the pay I usually demand. Again, I wouldn’t worry so much.”

She sighed, then wandered over to the window so she could watch the street.

“You should probably stay away from the window,” Denth said. “Just to be safe.”

First he tells me not to worry, then he tells me not to let myself be seen
, she thought with frustration, walking toward the back of the room, moving toward the door down to the cellar.

“I wouldn’t do that, either,” Denth noted. “Stairs are broken in a few places. Not much to see, anyway. Dirt floor. Dirt walls. Dirt ceiling.”

She sighed again, turning away from the door.

“What is with you, anyway?” he asked, still not opening his eyes. “You’re not usually this nervous.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Being locked in like this makes me anxious.”

“I thought princesses were taught to be patient,” Denth noted.

He’s right
, she realized.
That sounded like something Siri would say. What is wrong with me lately?
She forced herself to sit down on the stool, folding her hands in her lap, reasserting control of her hair, which had rebelliously started to lighten to a brown. “Please,” she said, forcing herself to sound patient, “tell me of this place. Why did you select this building?”

Denth cracked an eyelid. “We rent it,” he finally said. “It’s nice to have safe houses around the city. Since we don’t use them very often, we find the cheapest ones we can.”

I noticed
, Vivenna thought, but fell silent, recognizing how stilted her attempt at conversation had sounded. She sat quietly, looking down at her hands, trying to figure out just what had set her on edge.

It was more than the fight. The truth was, she was worried about how long things in T’Telir were taking. Her father would have received her letter two weeks before and would know that
two
of his daughters were in Hallandren. She could only hope that the logic of her letter, mixed with her threats, would keep him from doing anything foolish.

She was glad Denth had made her abandon Lemex’s house. If her father did send agents to retrieve her, they would naturally try to find Lemex first— just as she had. However, a cowardly part of her wished that Denth hadn’t shown such foresight. If they were still living in Lemex’s home, she might have been discovered already. And be on her way back to Idris.

She acted so determined. Indeed, sometimes she
felt
quite determined. Those were the times when she thought about Siri or her kingdom’s needs. However, those times—the royal times—were actually rather rare. The rest of the time, she wondered.

What was she doing? She didn’t know about subterfuge or warfare. Denth was really behind everything she was “doing” to help Idris. What she had suspected on that first day had proved true. Her preparation and study amounted to little. She didn’t know how to go about saving Siri. She didn’t know what to do about the Breath she held within her. She didn’t even know, really, if she wanted to stay in this insane, overcrowded, overcolored city.

In short, she was useless. And that was the one thing, above all else, that her training had never prepared her to deal with.

“You really want to meet with the Idrians?” Denth asked. Vivenna looked up. Outside, it was growing darker as evening approached.

Do I?
she thought.
If my father has agents in the city, they might be there. But, if there’s something I can do for those people...

“I’d like to,” she said.

He fell silent.

“You don’t like it,” she said.

He shook his head. “It will be hard to arrange, hard to keep quiet, and will make you hard to protect. These meetings we’ve been having—they’ve all been in controlled areas. If you meet with the common folk, that won’t be possible.”

She nodded quietly. “I want to do it anyway. I have to do something, Denth. Something useful. Being paraded before these contacts of yours is helping. But I need to do more. If war is coming, we need to prepare these people. Help them, somehow.”

She looked up, staring out toward the windows. Clod the Lifeless stood in the corner where Jewels had left him. Vivenna shivered, looking away. “I want to help my sister,” she said. “And I want to be useful to my people. But I can’t help feeling that I’m not doing much for Idris by staying in the city.”

“Better than leaving,” Denth said.

“Why?

“Because if you left, there wouldn’t be anyone to pay me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I wasn’t joking,” Denth noted. “I really do like getting paid. However, there are better reasons to stay.”

“Like what?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Depends, I guess. Look, Princess, I’m not the type to give brilliant advice or deep counsel. I’m a mercenary. You pay me, you point me, and I go stab things. But I figure that if you think about it, you’ll find that running back to Idris is about the least useful thing you could do. You won’t be able to do anything there other than sit about and knit doilies. Your father has other heirs. Here, you might be largely ineffective—but there you’re completely redundant.”

He fell silent, stretching, leaning back a little more.
Tough man to have a conversation with, sometimes
, Vivenna thought to herself, shaking her head. Still, she found his words comforting. She smiled, turning.

And found Clod standing right beside her stool.

She yelped, half-scrambling, half-falling backward. Denth was on his feet in a heartbeat, sword drawn, and Tonk Fah wasn’t far behind.

Vivenna stumbled to her feet, her skirts getting in the way, and placed a hand against her chest, as if to still her heartbeat. The Lifeless stood, watching her.

“He does that sometimes,” Denth said, chuckling, though it sounded false to Vivenna. “Just walks up to people.”

“Like he was curious about them,” Tonk Fah said.

“They
can’t
be curious,” Denth said. “No emotion at all. Clod. Go back to your corner.”

The Lifeless turned and began to walk.

“No,” Vivenna said, shivering. “Put it in the basement.”

“But, the stairs—” Denth said.

“
Now!
” Vivenna snapped, hair tingeing red at the tips.

Denth sighed. “Clod, to the cellar.”

The Lifeless turned and walked to the door at the back. As he went down the steps, Vivenna heard one crack slightly, but the creature made it safely, judging by the sound of his footsteps. She sat back down, trying to calm her breathing.

“Sorry about that,” Denth said.

“I can’t feel him,” Vivenna said. “It’s unnerving. I forget that he’s there, and don’t notice when he approaches.”

Denth nodded. “I know.”

“Jewels, too,” she said, glancing at him. “She is a Drab.”

“Yeah,” Denth said, settling back down. “Has been since she was a child. Her parents sold her Breath to one of the gods.”

“They each need a Breath a week to survive,” Tonk Fah added.

“How horrible,” Vivenna said.
I really need to show her more kindness.

“It’s really not so bad,” Denth said. “I’ve been without Breath myself.”

“You have?”

He nodded. “Everyone goes through times when they’re short of coin. The nice thing about Breath is that you can always buy one off someone else.”

“Somebody is always selling,” Tonk Fah said.

Vivenna shook her head, shivering. “But you have to live without it for a time. Have no soul.”

Denth laughed—and this time it was definitely genuine. “Oh, that’s just superstition, Princess. Lacking Breath doesn’t change you that much.”

“It makes you less kind,” Vivenna said. “More irritable. Like...”

“Jewels?” Denth asked, amused. “Nah, she’d be like that anyway. I’m sure of it. Either way, when I’ve sold my Breath, I didn’t feel much different. You really have to pay attention to even notice it’s missing.”

Vivenna turned away. She didn’t expect him to understand. It was easy to call her beliefs superstition, but she could just as easily turn the words back on Denth. People saw what they wanted to see. If he believed he felt the same without Breath, that was just an easy way to rationalize the selling of it—and then purchase of another Breath from an innocent person. Besides, why even bother buying one back if it didn’t matter?

The conversation died off until Jewels returned. She walked in and, once again, Vivenna barely noticed her.
I’m starting to rely on that life sense far too much
, she thought with annoyance, standing as Jewels nodded to Denth.

“He is who he says he is,” Jewels said. “I asked around, got three confirmations from people I kind of trust.”

“All right, then,” Denth said, stretching and climbing to his feet. He kicked Tonk Fah awake. “Let’s
carefully
head back to the house.”

Annotations for Chapter 22

Twenty-Three

Annotations for Chapter 23

Lightsong found Blushweaver in the grassy portion of the courtyard behind her palace. She was enjoying the art of one of the city’s master gardeners.

Lightsong strolled through the grass, his entourage hovering around him, holding up a large parasol to shield him from the sun, and generally seeing that he was suitably pampered. He passed hundreds of planters, pots, and vases filled with various kinds of growing things, all arranged into elaborate formal patterns and rows.

Temporary flower beds. The gods were too godly to leave the court and visit the city gardens, so the gardens had to be brought to them. Such an enormous undertaking required dozens of workers and carts full of plants. Nothing was too good for the gods.

Except, of course, freedom.

Blushweaver stood admiring one of the patterns of vases. She noticed Lightsong as he approached, his moving BioChroma successively making the flowers shine more vibrantly in the afternoon sunlight. She was wearing a surprisingly modest dress. It had no sleeves and appeared to be made entirely of a single wrapping of green silk, but it covered up the essential bits and then some.

“Lightsong, dear,” she said, smiling. “Visiting a lady in her home? How charmingly forward. Well, enough of this small talk. Let us retire to the bedroom.”

He smiled, holding up a sheet of paper as he approached her.

She paused, then accepted it. The front was covered with colored dots—the artisans’ script. “What is this?” she asked.

“I figured I knew how our conversation would begin,” he said. “And so I saved us the trouble of having to go through it. I had it written out beforehand.”

Blushweaver raised an eyebrow, then read. “‘To start, Blushweaver says something that is mildly suggestive.’” She glanced at him. “Mildly? I invited you to the bedroom. I’d call that blatant.”

“I underestimated you,” Lightsong said. “Please continue.”

“‘Then Lightsong says something to deflect her,’” Blushweaver read. “‘It is so incredibly charming and clever that she is left stunned by his brilliance and cannot speak for several minutes...’ Oh, honestly, Lightsong. Do I have to read this?”

“It’s a masterpiece,” he said. “Best work I’ve ever done. Please, the next part is important.”

She sighed. “‘Blushweaver says something about politics which is dreadfully boring but she offsets it by wiggling her chest. After that, Lightsong apologizes for being so distant lately. He explains that he had some things to work out.’” She paused, eyeing him. “Does this mean that you’re finally ready to be part of my plans?”

He nodded. To the side, a group of gardeners removed the flowers. They returned in waves, building a pattern of small blossoming trees in large pots around Blushweaver and Lightsong, a living kaleidoscope with the two Returned gods at its center.