Eye of the Labyrinth (10 page)

Chapter 17

The queen arrived in Nova two days after the Shadowdancers, but Marqel saw little of either Rainan or the Princess Alenor, and nothing at all of Kirshov. Somewhat to her annoyance, the Shadowdancers were not guests in the duke’s residence, but were accommodated in rooms attached to the Temple of the Suns.

The Sundancers had been resident in Nova for centuries and they still nominally had control over the temple there. The Sundancer in charge was a tall, heavily built woman named Jalena Arkin. She welcomed Laleno and Marqel with barely disguised hostility. The animosity between the Sundancers and the Shadowdancers was never more apparent to Marqel than in the barely civil greeting they received when they arrived.

There were two other Shadowdancers based permanently in Nova, but one was away in Cashton, the other major city on the island, and the other, Daena Lorinov, was heavily pregnant with a child that was rumored to be the bastard of Raban Seranov, the duke’s eldest son. Daena greeted them briefly, looking bloated and unattractive, then retired to her rooms. Marqel watched her leave, thinking that she would never let that happen to her body. No child would ever ruin her figure like that.

Jalena arranged for them to go hawking a couple of days later—mostly, Marqel suspected, to get them out of her way. The Duke of Grannon Rock loaned them horses and his hawkmaster, and provided an elaborate picnic. Marqel spent the morning bored witless. She considered hawking to be the most useless pastime she had ever encountered, and could not understand how anybody could think it even remotely entertaining. Laleno, on the other hand, was having the time of her life.

The other Shadowdancer was several years older than Marqel, a tall slender brunette with the polished manners of a noblewoman. Although a Landfall bastard like Marqel, she had been raised in the home of the Duke of Versage. Her mother had given birth to her and then married the duke’s Seneschal not long after her second birthday. Consequently, Laleno was educated and refined in a manner that Marqel could never hope to emulate.

They rode out from the temple before the second sun rose and the heat became unbearable. For much of the morning they followed the duke’s handsome young hawkmaster and his well-trained birds as they swooped on the rabbits that crowded the hills of Grannon Rock. With the sea level rising, much of the game had sought higher ground, and the rabbits in particular were on the point of becoming vermin.

At midday they stopped for lunch in the shade of a grove of trees, near the sheared-off edge of Mount Grannon. One of the earthquakes had sliced half the mountain away, leaving a raw scar on the hill, exposing layers of sedimentary rock that striped the cliff-face in a dazzling array of vibrant colors. The hawkmaster told them about it as they ate a cold lunch of game meat, flavored breads and sweet red wine.

Laleno hung off his every word, as if he was her intended target, not Kirshov. That annoyed Marqel intensely, even though she suspected Laleno was just flirting for practice. Marqel still had not worked out exactly how she was going to stop Laleno from having Kirsh on Landfall night, but at least she was here on Grannon Rock, where she might be able to do something to prevent it. Perhaps an opportunity would present itself, but Marqel was becoming a little concerned. Landfall was only a few days away. She was running out of time.

“The view sounds most impressive,” Laleno was saying to the hawkmaster, fluttering her eyelids with a coy smile. “I would love to see it.”

“I’d be delighted to show you, my lady,” the hawkmaster offered. “It’s not a place you should venture near without an experienced guide. The ground is still very unstable in places, but it’s worth the effort.”

Laleno glanced at Marqel, who was sitting with her back to a tree, giving the appearance that she was dozing in the warm afternoon sun, as she tried to puzzle out the problem of Laleno and Kirshov.

“Marqel? Would you mind waiting?”

“I suppose not,” she replied, scowling as the hawkmaster held out his hand to help Laleno up and then led her toward the cliffs. The servants began clearing away their picnic as Marqel settled herself back against the tree, pulling her broad-brimmed straw hat over her face.

“Don’t let me sleep too long,” she ordered one of the nearby grooms. “We need to be back in plenty of time for dinner tonight.”

Marqel dropped the hat over her eyes and settled herself more comfortably against the tree, but resting was a singular waste of time. Her mind would not let go of the idea that Kirsh was here in Nova and Laleno was going to have him. She opened her eyes in annoyance, and then glanced at the grooms, who were standing near the horses. They were chatting among themselves, not even looking in her direction.

She climbed to her feet and looked around, then, on impulse, set off in the direction that Laleno and the hawkmaster had disappeared.

Marqel followed their tracks in the soft earth through the trees for quite some time before she heard them. Concealed behind the undergrowth, she stopped to watch. They were right on the edge of the cliff. As Marqel had suspected, Laleno was more interested in the handsome young hawkmaster than the view. The Shadowdancer had cast aside her shirt and was naked to the waist. The hawkmaster was sucking on her nipple as she threw her head back, moaning with pleasure. Even from where she was hidden, Marqel could see the bulge in his tight leather trousers. As she watched, he lifted his mouth from her breast and kissed the Shadowdancer on the mouth. His hands were pulling up her riding skirt as she fumbled at the buckle of his belt.

Marqel studied them curiously. The hawkmaster was so anxious to possess the Shadowdancer that she could be standing over them and he wouldn’t notice a thing. They were so close to the edge, too. That was probably Laleno’s idea. She liked the idea of danger. It heightened her pleasure.

They were so lost in their lust neither of them noticed her approach. The hawkmaster was smothering Laleno’s throat, her breasts, her navel with kisses. Laleno had wrapped her fingers through his dark hair and was pulling him to her, forcing his head downward. This was about Laleno’s pleasure, Marqel noted with detached interest, not the hawkmaster’s. He would do what she wanted.

Laleno opened her eyes and caught sight of Marqel as the hawkmaster dropped to his knees before her on the very edge of the cliff. He did not see her approach; his face was covered by Laleno’s skirts. The Shadowdancer stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment.

Marqel smiled. Laleno probably had no idea what Marqel intended until she shoved them backward with all the strength she could muster. The Shadowdancer did not utter a sound as she and the hawkmaster plummeted over the edge of the cliff. The hawkmaster cried out, but he was still tangled in Laleno’s skirts, which muffled his screams of terror as the ground below rushed to meet them.

It took a long time for them to fall. Marqel had time to note that the hawkmaster had spoken truly—the cliff really was an impressive sight with its colorfully striped layers of rock. She waited patiently, as first Laleno and then the hawkmaster landed on the jagged rocks at the foot of the mountain.

Marqel watched the broken bodies at the base of the cliff for a while longer, making certain that neither of them was moving, before she turned and called for help.

Had Marqel realized the fuss it would cause, she might have thought twice about disposing of Laleno in such a dramatic fashion. Jalena was distraught when she learned of the accident, and spent the rest of the day trying to organize a rescue party to recover the bodies from the foot of the cliffs. Looking convincingly pale and distraught, Marqel retired to her rooms to savor her accomplishment, while pandemonium erupted around her. Daena came to visit her, to offer her sympathy, which Marqel suffered through nobly, choking back false tears and letting Daena stroke her hair comfortingly with her pudgy, swollen fingers.

She begged off dinner, eating in her rooms, but the pregnant Shadowdancer seemed determined not to let her out of her sight. In an effort to be rid of the clinging woman, Marqel announced that she would light a candle for Laleno, and requested some time alone to beseech the Goddess to watch over Laleno in the afterlife.

Both Jalena and Daena nodded sympathetically and left her alone. She took the thick red mourning candle and hurried toward the temple, glad finally to be rid of the other women.

Her moment of solitude was not to be, however. There was a girl in the temple kneeling near the altar, her head bowed in prayer, and off to the side, a sailor stood with his head down, his lips moving silently as he begged the Goddess for something ...
probably that he gets laid tonight,
she thought uncharitably. Marqel placed the candle on the altar and turned back, thinking she caught a movement near the door. She looked up but there was no one there. She smiled down at the kneeling girl.

“The Goddess is with you, my child,” she said.

She was no older than Marqel, and seemed overwhelmed to have been singled out by a Shadowdancer. She had short, red-blond hair and was dressed like a boy.
She’s probably praying for
some dress sense. Or maybe a boyfriend.
She certainly wasn’t going to find one without divine intervention dressed like that.

“Thank you, my lady,” the girl muttered.

Marqel placed her hand on the girl’s head for a moment, bestowing the Goddess’s blessing on her, and then moved away. The girl looked positively terrified.

Marqel smiled. She liked having that effect on people.

She left the temple and headed back to the residence, hoping that Jalena and Daena had not decided to wait up for her. She was sick to death of their sympathy, and if they didn’t leave her alone, she might have to do something about them, too.

Then she thought about the girl in the temple with a smile. She had been so pathetically grateful to receive a blessing from a Shadowdancer.

Defiantly, Marqel took the path toward the road. There were plenty of taverns in town where a Shadowdancer would be welcomed, she knew, and she would prefer to spend the evening in the company of people who wanted to enjoy themselves, rather than the wailing and moaning going on up at the residence. If she was caught, she could always claim she had been ministering to the general population, making sure they were committed to attending the Landfall Festival. If anything, her dedication in the face of today’s tragedy might be applauded.

Besides, Marqel had killed two people today. She could really do with a drink.

Chapter 18

It was long after first sunrise before Reithan, Dirk and Tia ventured off the
Makuan
and into Nova for a look around the city. Neither Tia nor Dirk had been to Nova before, and after days aboard the cramped and crowded pirate ship they were anxious to stretch their legs on dry land. Tia seemed to be in a good mood, which was a nice change, but Dirk was certain he would only have to look at her the wrong way to set her off again.

Reithan led them to a tavern near the docks named the Drowned Sailor, which was crowded with sailors and the whores who made a tidy living keeping them entertained. A few of the men glanced at Tia speculatively as she entered, but lost interest quickly when she glared at them. They found a table near the door and waited in silence as Reithan fetched ale for them. Dirk looked around with interest.

“Stop it,” Tia ordered impatiently.

“Stop what?”

“You’re gawping like a country boy on his first trip out of his village.”

“Is ‘gawping’ actually a word?”

“You’re the clever one, you tell me.”

“I can’t leave you two alone for a minute, can I?” Reithan complained good-naturedly as he dumped three foaming tankards on the table between them.

“He started it,” Tia snapped out of habit, and then she rolled her eyes. “Goddess! I sound like Mellie. Will Alexin get here soon, do you think?”

Reithan shrugged. “It’ll depend on when he can get away. There’s no guarantee he’ll even show up tonight.”

“I’m still surprised that
any
of the Seranovs are sympathetic to your cause,” Dirk remarked, taking a sip from his ale. The hum of conversation was like a blanket over the whole room, broken occasionally by the raucous laughter of the sailors near the bar.

“You always say that,” Tia pointed out with a frown.

“Say what?”

“Yours, not ours.”

“It’s just a figure of speech, Tia,” he shrugged. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Actually, they’re more sympathetic than you think,” Reithan told them in a low voice, glancing around the overcrowded tavern to ensure that they were not attracting any unwanted attention.

“I’m with Dirk on this,” Tia said. “I don’t trust any Seranov.”

“Well, that’s got to be a first. And what do you mean, you don’t trust any Seranov? I’m a Seranov.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Lucky for you I do.”

“Will he meet us here?” Dirk asked.

Reithan shook his head. “We’ll meet at the temple.”

Dirk smiled. “There’s a certain irony in that.”

“I think it’s a stupid idea,” Tia objected. “What if someone sees us?”

“So what if they do? We’re merely poor sailors come to beg the Goddess’s blessing.”

“Suppose someone recognizes you. Or Dirk.”

“If anyone was going to recognize me in Nova, they’d have done it years before now, Tia. And nobody knows Dirk here in Nova. Or anywhere in Dhevyn, for that matter. Provided he stays away from Elcast and Avacas, he’s as anonymous as the next man.”

“I still think it’s crazy,” Tia muttered unhappily into her ale.

“Your objection is noted,” Reithan said, taking a good swallow. “Now drink up, or we’ll be late.”

The Temple of the Suns in Nova had been spared the upheavals of the rest of the city, a fact that the Shadowdancers made a great deal of fuss about. It was, they claimed, proof that Nova had been destroyed because of the Goddess’s wrath. The temple sat amid an acre or so of carefully manicured gardens, and was home to half a dozen members of the Church, Sundancer and Shadowdancer alike. The temple itself was a large circular building with a domed roof, which sat a little apart from the larger residence behind it. The red sun reflected off the copper dome, making it look like a giant red onion.

Inside, the floor was tiled in an intricate geometric pattern that drew one’s eye to the altar at the far end, where two golden suns rested, one slightly larger than the other. There were a number of people in the temple kneeling in prayer, their lips moving silently as they begged the Goddess for whatever it was they thought she could provide.

Tia glanced around, but there was no sign of Alexin.

“He’s not here,” she whispered. “What now?”

“We pray,” Reithan said. He turned to Dirk. “Stay near the door. When Alexin arrives, I want to be sure he’s alone.”

Dirk nodded and moved back toward the entrance. Reithan whispered something to Tia and she moved away from him and then knelt closer to the altar, where she could watch the rear entrance that the Shadowdancers used to enter the temple. Dirk bowed his head as if in prayer, unable to bring himself to kneel. One of the old women struggled stiffly to her feet and shuffled out of the temple, followed a few minutes later by a young pregnant woman with a tear-stained face. Dirk wondered what she was crying about. Was she afraid for her child? Had the child’s father abandoned her? Did she really think an imaginary Goddess would listen to her?

As the evening progressed, the temple slowly emptied of worshippers until the only three left were Reithan, Tia and Dirk. As the last man departed, Tia climbed to her feet, rubbing her knees with a frown. She looked toward the door and then glanced at Reithan, who shrugged silently. She opened her mouth to say something, and then shut it hurriedly at the sound of a door opening behind the altar. Tia quickly resumed her kneeling position, bowing her head as a Shadowdancer stepped out from behind the altar.

Dirk’s stomach lurched. He took a step backward into the shadow of the entrance. Marqel stepped up to the altar, dressed in the red robes of her order, her long flaxen hair hanging loose, her slender wrists clanking softly with the weight of golden bracelets. She was carrying a thick red candle, which she carefully placed between the two golden suns. It was a mourning candle, Dirk noted, wondering who had died. Then she turned and glanced around the temple. Dirk’s heart pounded loudly in his ears, his breathing stilled, willing her not to notice him. Her eyes passed over the shadowed entrance without pausing.

Marqel noticed Tia then, and smiled. “The Goddess is with you, my child,” she said.

“Thank you, my lady,” Tia muttered, determinedly staring at the floor.

Marqel placed her hand on Tia’s head for a moment in a blessing, and then moved away, back behind the altar. A few moments later, they heard the door close and the sound of footsteps fading on the gravel path behind the temple.

Dirk sagged against the wall and closed his eyes.
Marqel the
Magnificent.
What was
she
doing here in Nova? He discovered he was trembling, but he was not sure if it was his close brush with discovery, or the memories she evoked in him that caused it. Before he could decide the reason, he felt the cold touch of steel against his throat.

“One usually keeps his eyes
open
when he’s a lookout, Dirk Provin,” Alexin advised softly.

Dirk’s eyes flew open to find the Guardsman standing before him, his unsheathed blade pressed across his throat.

“I’ll remember that next time,” Dirk promised warily.

Alexin grinned and lowered the blade. “Where’s Reithan?”

“Inside.”

Alexin replaced his dagger in its sheath and walked into the temple. Dirk glanced outside but the path was deserted so he followed Alexin inside.

“That was close,” Tia said, glancing in the direction Marqel had disappeared, as she climbed to her feet.

“Closer than you know,” Dirk said. “That Shadowdancer knows me.”

“I told you it was a bad idea meeting here,” she grumbled. “Hello, Alexin.”

“Tia.”

“What news?” Reithan asked as he joined them. This was neither the time nor the place for pleasantries.

“She doesn’t want to meet you,” Alexin informed them without preamble. He did not have to explain. There would be no mention of names, just in case they were overheard.

“Did you explain? ...” Tia began, obviously thinking that Alexin had somehow botched things up. Dirk thought Tia probably could not imagine the Queen of Dhevyn not wanting to plot the overthrow of Senet.

“She understood well enough. She’s just not interested.”

“What about Al— her daughter?” Dirk asked.

Alexin shrugged. “She seemed a bit more amenable to the idea, but her mother overruled her.”

“I don’t think we should have anything to do with the daughter,” Tia said. “She’s far too attached to her fiancé for my liking.”

Dirk nodded reluctantly in agreement. The Alenor he remembered was besotted with Kirshov. Had two years back home on Kalarada done anything to dim her affection? There was no way of telling.

“I can ask again, if you want me to,” Alexin offered, “but she’s suspicious. She probably thinks it’s a trap.”

“Isn’t there anything you can say that will convince her it isn’t?” Reithan asked. “I hate to think we’ve come all this way for nothing.”

Alexin shrugged. “I can try. But I can’t afford to press the issue. If my father got wind of it ...” He let the sentence trail off, and turned to Dirk. “You’d be well advised to keep your head down, too. Your old friend is here as part of the guard, and with Antonov and Belagren on Elcast at Landfall ...”

“Why have they gone to Elcast for Landfall?” Dirk asked suspiciously.

Reithan refused to meet his eye. “We’d best be going before that Shadowdancer comes back.”

Alexin nodded. “I’ll go first. I’ll send a message down to the ship if anything changes. Tia. Dirk.”

The Guardsman left without waiting for a response, leaving Dirk no chance to question him. He turned on Reithan, grabbing his shoulder, forcing his stepbrother to look at him.

“What’s going on?”

“Not here,” Reithan warned, shaking off Dirk’s arm. He strode toward the entrance and Tia hurried in his wake, also refusing to meet his eye.

Dirk caught up with them as they turned out of the gardens and onto the road that led back into the town.

“What’s going on?” he demanded again. “You told me Antonov was staying in Avacas. Why is he going to Elcast?”

“Who knows why the Lion of Senet does anything?” Reithan shrugged.

“You obviously do.”

Reithan stopped walking and turned to look at him. Tia stopped beside Reithan and shrugged. “He knows something is up now, Reithan. You might as well tell him the whole story before he hears from someone else.”

Reithan nodded reluctantly and took a deep breath. “Wallin Provin died a few weeks ago, Dirk. I’m sorry. They say his heart gave out.”

Dirk stared at Reithan in shock. “And you’re only telling me this
now
?”

“We were concerned that you might ...”

“What? Do something stupid?” he snapped. “Goddess! I am so
sick
of you people not trusting me. What do I have to do, Reithan? Tattoo ‘I love Dhevyn’ across my forehead? What did you think I would do? Go charging off to Elcast to mourn him? Why? Wallin is dead. There’s nothing I can do to bring him back.”

“I’m sorry, Dirk,” said Tia. “You’re right. We should have told you sooner.”

She reached out her hand to him, but he turned away. “Don’t waste your false sympathy on me, Tia. Just leave me alone.”

Dirk left them there, standing in the middle of the road, bathed in red sunlight, as he strode down the road toward the town, his vision misted by grieving, angry tears.