Witch Fall (25 page)

She stepped into a changing room and dropped her tunic over her head. The silk whispered over her skin before settling around her curves. The woman helped her wrap a pleated belt around her waist. Lilette pulled out the ruby brooch from her jewels and let it hang from its delicate chain. She hoped the sight of it would please Han.

She came out of the room and knelt on a mat that had been placed out for her. The man came with a clay pot of tea. He poured hot water over the cups to warm them while the woman worked on Lilette’s hair.

The man placed the tea before her. Lilette lifted the fragrant cup to her nose and inhaled long and deep. She nodded in thanks and sipped her tea while the woman fixed her hair.

By then, the man had returned with a bamboo bowl of rice and vegetables with brown sauce and ginger. Lilette ate eagerly, her whole body sighing in relief at the familiar food.

The woman held up a mirror and waited while Lilette examined her hair. It was much simpler than what her eunuch had managed, but she liked it better. She pulled the comb Salfe had given her from her pouch and slid it in next to her scalp.

The woman prepared a pot of kohl and vermillion red. With a soft brush, she painted Lilette’s lips and darkened her nearly translucent eyebrows and lashes. When she was finished, Lilette found herself looking at a version of herself somewhere between a fisherman’s daughter and the empress she had been.

Doranna smiled approvingly. “You’re more at home like this.”

Lilette nodded. “I didn’t realize it before now, but Harshen is my home, despite all its faults.”

The other woman nodded sagely. “We feel the same way.”

“I too know what that is like,” Doranna said. She paid the couple while Lilette stepped into the twilight and inhaled deeply the delicate honey scent on the air.

Dropping coins into her pouch, Doranna stepped up beside her. “It won’t be long before Merlay begins the feast.”

They joined the throng of people flowing uphill like a backward stream into the inner courts.

“Do you know what Merlay has in store for me?” Lilette asked.

Doranna wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I have an idea, but it’s best not to speculate. Just enjoy one night of being a witch and let tomorrow take care of itself.”

As soon as Lilette passed the barbed bushes, she started searching for Han. As evening descended, the small, white, bell-shaped buds of the climbing vines eased open, their stamens glowing golden. “What are they?” Lilette asked.

“Chesli,” Doranna replied. “It only blooms once a year on a moonless night. The pollen extends the life of a potion indefinitely.”

Amid the gaiety and laughter, strains of ethereal music were carried on a gentle breeze. The wastrels bent their backs to the harvest. Their glowing, pollen-speckled robes made them look like ghosts in the dim light.

Lilette paused to watch them, an unnamed discontent squatting on her tongue. Then the crowd pressed in on her and she glanced around, realizing she’d lost Doranna. Lilette searched as she was jostled to and fro, pressed in on from all sides. She was trapped. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Ever since she’d been trapped in a barrel for an entire night, she could not abide tight spaces.

She spotted Doranna through the crowd. Lilette called to her, tried to make her way closer, but the crowd kept pushing her back. Just when she’d truly started to panic, Pescal appeared at her side, that adorable patch of hair sticking up. “You look like you could use some help.”

She pointed to Doranna. “My friend is over there.”

His brow furrowed before he shook his head. “We won’t make it through that. Come on.”

Relieved, Lilette allowed him to take her elbow. “Doranna will worry.” She had to shout to be heard over the din.

He glanced back at her. “She’ll be all right. Come on.” He pushed his way expertly through. In no time, they’d reached the pavilion, which was laden with tables of food. The Heads stood at the top of the steps, looking down on the crowd.

Jolin stood off to the side, a smug look on her face. Garen’s eyes were red rimmed and swollen as if she’d been crying.

Merlay spread her arms. “The first day of the chesli harvest is for food and dancing.”

As one, all four Heads bowed and the music changed from haunting to a lively dancing song. Lilette couldn’t see Han anywhere.

Pescal grabbed her hand and hauled her up the stairs. They were among the first to reach the tables laden with a feast of fruits, vegetables, and pastries. After piling food onto two large, stiff leaves that Lilette had no doubt had been sung for this very purpose, Pescal managed wrangle her past the guardians keeping watch on the Head’s private gardens. They wove past important-looking people and found a spot to sit among the white flowers.

Lilette took her first bite of fruit, the juice and sour sweetness exploding on her tongue. They ate fruits she had never tasted before—and never the same one twice. Pescal regaled her with stories of famous guardians, his manner jovial. Every once in a while, he absently tried to smooth down his cowlick, but it stubbornly stuck right back up again.

Between the food and the laughter, Lilette forgot her worry over losing sight of Doranna. Feeling safe with Pescal, she kept an eye out for Han, hoping he’d know where to look for her.

When Pescal finished eating, he tossed his leaf plate out of sight. “You can eat them, but I’m stuffed.”

Lilette was too busy watching the path from the pavilion to reply.

“Are you looking for someone, Lilette?” Pescal asked.

Lilette focused on him. “I’m sorry. I thought Han would have found me by now. Would you help me look for him?”

Pescal’s grin faded. “Lilette, would I be correct in assuming you have feelings for the man?”

She didn’t deny it.

He looked away. “Then I am sorry to say, he did not wish to see you.”

The fruit Lilette had been holding slipped from her fingers and landed with a wet plop in her lap. “What?”

Pescal gently removed the fruit, which had left a dark splotch on her robes. He wetted a handkerchief and pressed it into her hands. “I am sorry. He said there is too much between you.”

Her hands curled into a fist around the fabric, rivulets of moisture running between her fingers as the hurt washed over her, settling deep into her bones—so deep she wasn’t sure she could ever shake it.

Pescal grinned wryly. “And here I was hoping to have a good time with such a beautiful woman.”

She stared absently at the dark stain on her robes before daubing at it with the handkerchief.

Pescal sighed and handed her his cup. “Here, try this.”

When she didn’t take it, he held it to her lips. “It will help.”

She held and sipped the drink, which tasted of sweet melons with a tangle of citrus and pear. She finished off the entire cup. He was right—she did feel better. Sort of floaty and warm.

He reached for her hand and helped her up. “You promised me a dance, remember?” He twirled her around and they danced. Lilette didn’t know the steps, but she picked them up quickly, laughing when she stumbled and fell into him.

He caught her against his chest. Before she knew what was happening, he bent down and kissed her. “You taste like melons!” Laughing, he pulled back and twirled her around before she could process what had just happened.

Dizzy, she backed away from him. “Stop, I can’t breathe.”

Pescal gave her a mock bow. “Then I shall bring you something to revive you and we shall dance again.”

She watched as he trotted away, his hand on the sword at his waist to keep it from bouncing.

A breeze picked up and she leaned into it, grateful for the coolness against her damp forehead and the smell of crushed flowers and sap. Closing her eyes, she lay back and closed her eyes, the flowers soft as a bed beneath her. She turned her head to see if Pescal was coming back from the pavilion yet. There was no sign of him.

Everything was swaying gently in the breeze, so Han’s stillness caught her attention almost immediately. He stood with his back against a nearby tree, his gaze intense. The smile melted from Lilette’s face and something lurched within her. Had he seen the kiss? Part of her hoped he had, wanted him to see her with someone else. She pushed herself to her feet.

Han strode toward her, power in his gait. When he stood before her, he searched her gaze and the gentleness she’d seen before was gone, replaced with a wall she knew she’d never scale. The breeze washed over them, bringing Lilette the steel and leather smell of him.

“Chen has been using your sister and the others to fight back against Kalari,” he said.

Lilette instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. “I know.”

Han looked off in the direction Pescal had gone. “I don’t think this can go on much longer. The hope for peace grows more fragile with every passing day.”

She caught sight of Pescal weaving through the gardens toward her and let out a tiny breath of relief. “What do you think will happen?” she whispered.

Han watched Pescal, something dark crossing his face. “I don’t know.” He paused. “I’m surprised Doranna let you out here by yourself.”

“I lost her.”

Han cut her a glance. “Wastrels aren’t allowed in the gardens unless their services are called for. I thought you knew that.”

Lilette wondered if Doranna had been searching for her all this time.

Pescal arrived with light pastries and two cups filled with golden liquid. “I would have brought more if I’d known someone else was going to join us.” Despite his friendly words, their undercurrent clearly said Han was not welcome.

Lilette wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but Han had already made his choice, so she remained silent.

Han studied Pescal, his eyes glinting, and then he turned to Lilette. “You’ll be staying at Sash’s tree tonight?”

Panic stabbed through her. She didn’t know where she was supposed to stay.

He must have noticed her hesitation. “You know how to find it?”

She mentally retraced the path. “Yes.”

Han gave Pescal a hard look. “I’ll be waiting to see you arrive safely.” He turned and strode away without looking back.

Pescal didn’t press the issue, just handed her the cup and guided her to a nearby tree. She drank the liquid eagerly. It tasted the way flowers smelled. Some layer of it was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Delicious.

Pescal handed her half of a pastry. The flakes dissolved in her mouth, and she licked the sugar off her fingers.

Her body seemed to be waking up, every sensation magnified. The gentle caress of the wind felt enticing. Pescal stroked her arm, sending tendrils of fire through her blood. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, igniting a spark between them. “My tree isn’t far from here.”

“Mmm,” she murmured, her eyes closed. Some part of her blared a warning, but it was overcome with the heat and the sensations.

He helped her to her feet, his fingers trailing down her side to rest on her lower hip. Unable to help herself, she reached up and twirled his cowlick around her finger.

He leaned down and breathed in her ear. “Come on, we’ll go out the back way. Less people to fight through.”

Desire ripped through her, nearly making her gasp. “Yes.” She would go wherever he led her.

“What are you doing?” Lilette whirled around to see Doranna rushing toward them, her face red and her gaze furious. “You know you’re not supposed to be out of my sight.”

Pescal brushed his lips along Lilette’s ear, and fire pulsed in her lower belly. She just wanted Doranna gone. Now. “I’m all right with Pescal.” He chuckled and nuzzled her ear.

Doranna shot him a murderous glare. “She’s an apprentice, and you know it. Your Lead will hear about this, I promise you.”

He kept moving. “I’m just looking after her, making sure she finds somewhere to sleep tonight.”

Doranna planted herself directly in their path. “No you aren’t, and no you won’t.”

“Get out of my way, wastrel.” Pescal put an unnecessary amount of venom into the last word. 

Lilette pulled back, shocked at the hatred in his voice. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

Pescal’s entire demeanor changed as he turned toward her—the meanness sucked back in like an oyster snapping shut. “Sorry, sweetling. I just want to do what’s best for you.” He stiffened as he turned back to Doranna. “You are excused.”