"I've come to see the Lady D'Sanya," I said to the palace-gate guards. "Please tell her. Or, if she is asleep, please inform Prince Ven'Dar that the Lady's traveling companion begs entry." I swayed in the saddle.
I hadn't needed to send a message. She was at the gate and in my arms before the guards could choose which messenger to send. But as I buried my face in her hair and blessed every kindly spirit that she was unharmed, I could not help but wonder what use the Zhid had for her. I shivered, and the world still felt wrong.
Chapter 13
Though bone-weary from the night's events, I was unable to rest in Ven'Dar's palaee. Turbulent images of broken bodies, crowded commards, and D'Sanya swooping down on me with empty eyes and a knife in her hand plagued the dark hours. Yet the demands of the body will always win out. About the time daylight crept through the slot windows, I blinked, and suddenly it was hot mid-morning. A tense serving man stood over my head, offering to dispose of the filthy clothing heaped on the floor beside the bed and show me to the guests' bathing room. The Lady D'Sanya was asking after me . . . urgently.
Despite the welcome luxury of a full bathing pool of gloriously hot water, I expended little time before hurrying along the corridor to join D'Sanya. Na'Cyd was standing in the passage outside D'Sanya's door, one bandaged arm sashed to his chest.
"I need to speak with you for a moment, sir," he said. "It's very important."
"Later, Na'Cyd. The Lady is waiting." We had been too tired to talk the previous night. I needed to sort out this strange business: why they wanted her, why she hadn't struck them down with the devastating power she held in her fingertips.
"But sir …"
I pretended I hadn't heard him and pushed open the door.
She sat at a small table where cold roasted meat, hot bread, and an array of fruit had been laid out. "Stop," she said, as soon as I stepped through the door.
Mystified, I obeyed. She jumped to her feet and walked around me, eyeing the palace provision of dark green shirt and tan jacket and breeches.
"I approve," she said at last, tweaking the high neck of my shirt. "I think perhaps Prince Ven'Dar's stewards have a better eye for becoming fashion than you do. You should hire the one who selected these to be your manservant."
"You look lovely, Lady … as always." Breathtaking, in fact. A long tunic of deep, rusty red draped down below her knees over loose riding trousers, emphasizing her graceful height. The color set off her light hair and flushed complexion.
She laughed and drew me to the table. "Be quick about your eating. I breakfasted hours ago. I've already met with Prince Ven'Dar and assured him that I am nowhere near ready to relieve him of his office. He wanted to know everything about last night, of course." The flush in her cheeks faded at this last.
I sat in the chair next to her and drew it up close. "Lady, did they . . . your abductors . . . did they say anything that might tell us—?"
She laid a gold-ringed finger on my mouth. "No more of it. Speak of something else." Her voice wavered slightly. She shoved a bowl of plums in front of me.
"For now," I said. "But we must talk about it sometime."
And so we talked nonsense as she watched me eat, telling innocent stories . . . until with no warning she burst out, "Oh, holy Vasrin," jumped up from her chair, and ran out of the room.
I threw down my spoon and table knife and hurried after her down a long portrait gallery, trying to think what in the nonsensical conversation about childhood disobedience could have raised her temper. I'd told her of pouring ink on my tutors' papers and putting lamp oil in their tea to get rid of them, not mentioning that I'd hoped to prevent their learning of my "evil" talent for sorcery.
She stopped in a cloistered courtyard beside a bubbling fountain, one hand pressed over her mouth, the other over her heart. Slowing my steps, I clasped my hands behind my back. I could not breakfast in gloves. "What is it, D'Sanya? Did I say something wrong? Offend you? Please, tell me."
"How could my valiant rescuer offend me?" D'Sanya stifled a sob and hugged her arms, her attempt at a smile failing. "Je'Reint told me what you did. To think you could have been killed . . . blasted to bits . . . destroyed by Zhid magic. For me. As you were telling your story, I thought of how lonely you must have been as a child, yet you have brought me such joy. These past few weeks have been the happiest I've ever known, and I've seen you happy, too, and I could not bear to look at you and imagine …"
I drew her close and kissed away her tears, ignoring the serving woman who passed by us gawking. "Then don't imagine it. I'm quite undamaged. As are you. And you see, I feel so stupid … so careless . . . taking you on the road with no protection. Knowing that Zhid were raiding. Inexcusable . . ."
And everything I said was true. Gods, where had my head been lost? Even with this creeping sense of disorder warning me, I had been unforgivably careless.
"You are my protector, now and—" She pulled loose and whipped around, leaving me standing behind her.
But it was only Na'Cyd who had entered the courtyard and bowed. "Excuse my intrusion, my lady, but you left orders for me to find you as soon as the gentleman was finished with breakfast."
"Of course, Na'Cyd. How are you this morning?"
"Mending well, so the Healers say. This"—he lifted the elbow of his bound arm—"is merely to support the repaired muscle for a day or two until nature strengthens it further."
"I'm delighted to hear it. Prince Ven'Dar has recommended, and I have agreed, that I will journey to Maroth through a portal. If you would arrange for our horses to get there with us . . ."
"Of course, my lady. Is there anything else?"
"The prince will summon you in an hour."
The consiliar did not leave, but bowed and watched as D'Sanya took my arm and drew me back the way we'd come. His expression, as always, was inscrutable. Perhaps a little darker than usual on this morning. Or perhaps that was my own mood.
D'Sanya pulled my arm closer as if to focus my attention. "Now you've soothed my silly megrims, I've not forgotten my promised adventure. Alas, our time is constrained by this portal business and Prince Ven'Dar insisting that he do the portal-working himself. So we won't have time to stay long. But what use to keep company with D'Arnath's daughter, if one reaps no wonder from it? Any Nimrolan maiden might do as well!"
"No other, Lady. No other."
Beaming, she led me quickly through the palace, distinguishing the new-built parts from the parts she remembered, and telling how the use or furnishing of one place had differed in the past, or what marvelous events had occurred there.
"Down that passage is the chamber with cracked walls from the time D'Alleyn sealed it, filled it with water and honey, and spent twenty days freezing it, sure he could make the largest sweet ice anyone could imagine." D'Sanya giggled as she pointed into a low, narrow passage where a single yellow lamp brightened as we stopped and peered inside, and then dimmed as we started down a steep staircase that led into the core of the fortress. "The three of us would roll ourselves in layers of rugs and slide down this stair … it's the longest in the palace. But D'Leon broke his arm on it one day, and Papa forbade it after. We've only a little farther to go. Can you guess where I'm taking you? So few have ever seen it."
Of course, I knew. I remembered the steep, narrow flight of worn steps from carrying my father's litter from the Gate. But I said, "Another of your childhood hiding places?"