Eye of the Labyrinth (8 page)

“I’ll go, too,” she offered, thinking that if Dirk was going to cause trouble, she would see it coming before anybody else did. The rest of them trusted him far too much for her liking. “Is that all right, Captain?” She deliberately did not ask Reithan’s permission, certain he would have denied it.

“This voyage is starting to take on the air of a damn pleasure cruise,” Porl complained.

“I won’t be in the way,” she promised.

Porl shrugged. “Aye, I suppose you can come.”

“Just don’t let her near the galley,” Reithan suggested with a sour look.

“Then we’ll leave it at that. For now,” Lexie announced. “And hopefully that will be the end of it.”

Tia nodded her agreement with the others; unable to shake the feeling that Lexie’s statement fell into the category of famous last words.

Chapter 13

The High Priestess left for Elcast on the
Calliope
with Prince Antonov the day after Troitsa. A Shadowdancer named Marika Torna had been left in charge in the Hall of Shadows and the High Priestess had left quite specific instructions about what was expected in her absence.

The Landfall Festival was the busiest time of year for the Shadowdancers, and everyone had work to do. The Avacas Landfall Festival was a huge event, involving every Shadowdancer still in the city. Marqel’s role was minor, a fact that was even harder to stomach knowing that while she suffered through the raging lust of some minor noble out of his mind with the Milk of the Goddess, that conceited, loathsome ... she-
goat,
Caspona Takarnov, would be wrapped in the arms of Kirshov Latanya on Grannon Rock. Although the knowledge gnawed at Marqel, she could do nothing about it while Ella or Prince Antonov was in the palace nor while the High Priestess was still in Avacas, for that matter.

She had a plan, but for it to work she needed to set the wheels in motion at the very last minute.

Prince Misha was out of danger, although the overdose had left him even weaker than normal, and there were real fears that he would never completely recover. Marqel checked on him the night before Caspona and the others were due to leave, although her attention was not really required. Olena Borne was still in the palace, and Yuri Daranski, Antonov’s personal physician from the Hall of Shadows, always tended Misha during Ella’s absence. Marqel was still an apprentice, and the care of someone as important as Misha Latanya would never be left solely in the hands of an inexperienced acolyte.

It was late when Marqel visited the Crippled Prince. The red sun flooded the room, making his complexion appear much healthier than it did in the harsh light of the second sun. Misha smiled wanly at her as she placed a cool hand on his forehead. He was much more lucid these past few days, and obviously in pain now that the worst of the drug had worn off.

“You’ve been watching over me, haven’t you?” he asked weakly.

Marqel got along well with Misha. He was easy company and appreciated the attention of a beautiful young woman. In different circumstances, were he not a cripple—were he not destined to die in the High Priestess’s grand scheme—she might be quite interested in fostering his obvious attraction.

“I’ve just been doing my job, your highness.”

“I remember you being here ... at odd times. I think you’ve done more than duty calls for, Marqel.”

“If I have, it’s because you’re worth it, your highness,” she replied with a coy smile.

Misha was not fooled. “Now you’re trying to flatter me.”

“Is it working?”

He forced a smile. “Yes.”

“Good,” she declared, taking a seat beside him on the bed. “My evil plan to win you over with my beguiling charms is working.”

“And once you have me, what are you going to do with me?”

For a fleeting moment, the thought crossed her mind that maybe Misha would not die. Suppose Belagren changed her mind? Suppose something happened to Kirsh and Misha lived to inherit the throne of Senet? She could have Misha with a snap of her fingers if she wanted him. His left side was weak, certainly, but she had nursed him for long enough now to know that the rest of his anatomy functioned quite normally.
What
would he give,
she wondered,
for the chance to feel like a real
man?
What would he be willing to pay?

She placed her hand on his thigh, making it appear accidental as she turned to smile at him.

“What would you like me to do, your highness?” she asked softly.

Misha stared at her. He was in too much pain to act on her invitation, but he knew it was there. She recognized the look, the need, the desire ...

Then sanity returned and she jumped to her feet, assuming an air of professional concern.
Dear Goddess! What am I
thinking?

“I’m sorry ... I really have to go now. Yuri is here in the palace if you’re in need of anything.”

Misha looked rather disappointed, but he nodded in understanding. “I’m still tired. I’ll probably just sleep.”

“Then sleep well, your highness,” she said and hurried from the room before the Crippled Prince could think up a reason to ask her to stay.

After she left Misha’s rooms, Marqel headed for the kitchens, then a little while later, bearing a tray and three cups of steaming tea, headed back upstairs to Caspona’s room. She knocked and waited until the other girl opened the door.

“I’ve come to apologize,” Marqel said, with a tentative smile. “I shouldn’t have said what I did the other day. Will you accept a peace offering?” She held up the tray. Steam rose off the cups, scented faintly with peppermint.

Caspona stared at her warily. “Why?”

“Because you were right. We’re not whores. I’m just disappointed, that’s all. I so wanted to see Grannon Rock.”

Although she was clearly suspicious of Marqel’s motives, Caspona stood back to let her in. Marqel smiled wider and entered the room placing the tray on the table near the window. She schooled her features into a pleasant expression and turned back to the other Shadowdancer.

“Did you want some help packing?”

“I’m almost done.”

“You should be getting to bed soon. You have an early start in the morning.”

“Your concern is touching,” Caspona remarked with a frown.

“To be honest, Caspona, it’s not you I’m thinking of. Ella ordered me to make sure you and Laleno got away on time.”
That explanation should satisfy her
. Caspona knew her well enough to doubt that anything Marqel did came from any innate generosity of spirit.

Picking up one of the cups, Marqel pretended to sip the tea, and then placed it back on the tray. “Come on. Drink it before it cools.”

Caspona stared at her for a moment, and then reached for her tea, quite deliberately taking up the cup that Marqel had just put down. Marqel smiled at the gesture.

“Do you distrust me that much?”

“I wouldn’t trust you to throw me a line if I was drowning in a puddle,” the other girl told her pleasantly. “Now, why don’t
you
drink it before it cools?”

Unconcerned, Marqel picked up the untouched cup and took a small swallow of the peppermint tea. The two girls stared at each other over the rims of their cups, the silence thick between them. Caspona drained hers and placed the cup on the tray with a thump.

“Thank you, that was very thoughtful of you, Marqel. Now if you don’t mind, I need to finish packing.”

Putting her half-finished cup down, Marqel picked up the tray. “Don’t stay up too late.”

Caspona opened the door for her. “I won’t.”

Marqel did not look back as she left the room and headed down the broad tiled hall toward Laleno’s room. The older girl was already in bed when she knocked, and did not appreciate being woken.

“What do you want, Marqel?” she snapped as she opened the door.

“I just came to check that you’re all ready to leave tomorrow.”

“I am,” Laleno replied. “Was that all you wanted?”

“Yes, but ...”

“Then good night!” The acolyte slammed the door in Marqel’s face.

With a smile, Marqel turned for the staircase and the kitchens. She would wash the cups herself, to make certain no trace remained of the poison. The tiny sip she had imbibed shouldn’t do her any lasting harm, but she knew Caspona distrusted her. It had been the only way to get her to take the tea.

Marqel had learned a great deal since she had joined the Shadowdancers and she was a gifted student when it came to poisons. The concoction she had brewed was a particularly virulent blend of poppy-dust and nightshade.

They would find Caspona in the morning. The poor girl would appear to have died in her sleep, choking on her own tongue during a fit. Everyone would think it was the result of an overdose. It was not common for a Shadowdancer to be addicted to poppy-dust, but neither was it so rare that anybody would think to look for another cause. And it did not matter that Laleno would not let her in; made no difference to her plans that Laleno had not drunk the tea. In fact, it was better this way.

Marqel hummed a cheery tune to herself as she made her way downstairs.

Chapter 14

Marqel took breakfast the following morning in the vast dining room that served highborn residents of the palace. There were few people in attendance this morning. With Antonov on his way to Elcast, many of his staff had taken the opportunity to visit their own estates, or simply take advantage of his absence by sleeping in. Even when he was in residence, the Lion of Senet rarely joined his guests for meals unless it was a formal dinner. He was an early riser and had usually spent time praying in his small private temple and broken his fast long before the rest of the palace was awake.

The room was long and narrow and faced the east, so it was one of the first rooms in the palace to catch the rising of the second sun. The long table was a forest of crystal and silverware. On the western wall, under huge silver domes, platters of several different types of cooked meat, perfectly poached eggs, freshly baked bread and delicate little pastries were constantly replenished by a small army of servants whose job it was to keep the highborn residents of the palace fed. Breakfast went on for quite a while in the Avacas palace. It was not uncommon for the servants to be tactfully shooing out the last of the diners so they could set the table for lunch.

She picked at her food, trying to look as bored and unimpressed by the wealth surrounding her as the highborn who took this place for granted. Even after two years living amid such fabulous wealth and plenty, Marqel still had to stop and pinch herself occasionally, to remind herself that she was not dreaming. On more than one occasion, she’d had to stop herself from pocketing the odd piece of silverware as a hedge against the future. Every now and then, she would look back over the series of events that led her to this place and shake her head in wonder. Her life as a nameless Landfall bastard, scratching for a living as an acrobat with Mistress Kalleen’s troupe, seemed as if it had been lived by someone else. She was
somebody
now. She was a Shadowdancer. And soon, if everything went according to plan, she would become even more important.

Across the table from Marqel, the Shadowdancer Olena Borne, Ella’s assistant, was tucking into a hearty breakfast. Beside her sat some visiting lord from western Senet, stuffing his face as if it was his last meal. Marqel could not remember his name, but knew that he had been staying at the palace for the past week or so and was due to leave later today. Farther down the table sat two other men, palace functionaries whose names Marqel could not remember. She thought the taller one was a distant cousin of Antonov’s, which was how he had secured a position in the palace. The shorter one she did not know much about at all. They seemed to be lingering over their meal, deep in conversation about something to do with last year’s maize harvest.

“My lady?”

Marqel glanced up at the servant who had entered the dining room and stopped behind Olena’s chair.

“Master Daranski sent me to fetch you, my lady,” the girl explained, rather nervously.

“Now?” Olena asked, glancing at her meal.

“One of the Shadowdancers is ill, my lady. He said it was urgent.”

Olena muttered a curse under her breath as she pushed her chair back. “You’d better come, too, Marqel,” the Shadowdancer ordered as she rose to her feet.

Marqel followed Olena and the servant from the dining room, quite pleased that she had been invited along. She was a little concerned, however. The servant had said one of the Shadowdancers was
ill.

If everything had gone according to plan, the servant should have announced that one of the Shadowdancers was dead.

“What’s wrong with her?” Olena demanded of Yuri as she followed the servant into Caspona’s room. The physician was bent over the bed, examining Caspona’s limp form. Marqel tried to look past Olena and Yuri to see if she was breathing, but it was too difficult to get a good look at her without being obvious about it.

Yuri straightened up, dismissed the serving girl and waited until she had closed the door behind her before he answered.

“She appears to have taken an overdose of poppy-dust,” he announced with a frown.

Olena stared at the young woman in shock. “
Caspona?
Do you know anything about this, Marqel?”

The question caught her off guard. “Er ... no, my lady. I didn’t know she was an addict.”

“She shows no sign of a regular habit,” Yuri remarked, glancing down at the young woman. Marqel could not tell if she was still alive, but she supposed a coma would do just as well. The important thing was that Caspona was not able to travel to Grannon Rock.

“Is she dead?” Olena asked. She sounded irritated, rather than upset.

Yuri nodded. “Since some time last evening, I’m guessing.”

Marqel was very careful not to let her relief show. She also thought it high time she established her alibi.

“But ... I spoke to her just before she went to bed! She seemed ... well, the same as usual ...”

“What were you doing here in Caspona’s room last night?” Olena asked suspiciously. “I was under the impression that you two barely spoke to each other.”

Marqel did not hesitate with her reply. “Ella told me to make sure Caspona and Laleno were ready to leave for Grannon Rock today, my lady. I was just checking that she was packed and ready to go. I checked on Laleno, too.” And when she was questioned, Laleno would remember Marqel waking her for that very reason ...

It was all too easy, really.

Olena cursed in a very unladylike fashion. “I forgot they were due to leave for Grannon Rock this morning. Damn!”

“Did you want me to send to the Hall of Shadows, my lady?” Marqel offered helpfully. “The ship doesn’t sail for at least another hour. I’m sure Lady Marika could find a replacement for her.”

“In an hour?” Olena scoffed. “Marika’s probably not even out of bed yet, if I know her.” She looked at Marqel thoughtfully. “Pity I can’t send you in her place.”

Marqel nodded in understanding. “I know. Ella explained how annoyed Prince Antonov would be if I went to Grannon Rock. Can’t Laleno simply go on her own?”

Olena shook her head. “Daena Lorinov is due to give birth any day. That’s why we were sending two Shadowdancers to Grannon Rock in the first place. She’s in no condition to take part in the Landfall Festival.”

“I’d not wish to cause trouble for Prince Kirshov, my lady.”

Olena thought on it for a moment. “Of course, Laleno will be there, too,” the Shadowdancer mused, “so it’s not as if you’d have to even see Kirshov ...”

Marqel tried very hard to appear nonchalant while Olena sweated over the decision.

“Well, whatever you decide,” Yuri warned, “do it quickly, Olena. I need to get Caspona out of the palace and back to the Hall of Shadows before the manner of her demise becomes public knowledge.”

“Can I trust you to do as you’re ordered?” Olena asked Marqel with a frown.

“Yes, my lady,” Marqel promised meekly.

The Shadowdancer had little choice in the matter, Marqel knew, but she was still torn with indecision. “I don’t know ...”

“Oh for pity’s sake! Send the girl in Caspona’s place,” Yuri advised impatiently. “There’s little for her to do here in the palace at present. Now, do you think we could get on to more important matters?”

Olena nodded doubtfully. “Can you be ready in time?”

“I’ll try, my lady.”

“Then go,” she ordered with a wave of her hand. “And stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, my lady.” Marqel dropped into a quick curtsy and hurried from the room. As she turned to close the door behind her, Yuri turned his attention to Olena.

“Thank the Goddess this didn’t happen while Antonov was in residence,” he said. “How are you going to explain it?”

“You’re the physician,” Olena pointed out testily. “Surely you can think of an acceptable reason why she died.”

“I can say it was a weak heart, I suppose,” Yuri agreed. “You’ll have to let Belagren know.”

“It can wait until she returns from Elcast,” Olena replied. “Right now it’s more important we make certain that nobody in the palace gets wind of the fact that one of our Shadowdancers living under the Lion of Senet’s roof was a poppy-dust addict.”

Marqel closed the door with a smile and headed back to her room where her bags were packed and ready to be taken down to the ship that would deliver her to Grannon Rock.