Troubled Waters (35 page)

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Authors: Sharon Shinn

Tags: #Young Adult, #Science Fiction, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Adult, #Adventure

BOOK: Troubled Waters
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What had actually happened yesterday on the Marisi? How had she been able to bend the river to her command?

“I’m sure there must be greenhouses somewhere in the city where the wealthy can buy flowers year-round,” Zoe said in a faint voice. “Who sent these?”

“Elidon,” Annova answered.

Which made sense, since yellow was an
elay
color. The first to arrive—so Annova had told her—had been Seterre’s thank-you, a small flowering tree massed with tiny purple blossoms. Seterre had brought it herself, begging for a chance to thank Zoe in person for saving her daughter’s life.

“She’s sleeping,” Annova had said firmly. She had repeated the conversation to Zoe with a great deal of relish. “She was drained almost to the point of death by yesterday’s efforts.”

“I will never be able to express my gratitude to her—anything she wants from me, I will gladly give it—”

“Thank you, but Zoe Lalindar has everything she needs.”

In rapid succession, more tributes had arrived—showy red flowers from Alys, a spray of orange lilies from Romelle, a gigantic vase of multicolored blossoms from King Vernon himself, and smaller remembrances from Mirti Serlast, the Ardelays, and a handful of others.

Zoe was a little surprised, after Annova reeled off the names, to learn that Darien was not among them. Not put out, of course—she had not expected
anyone
except Seterre and perhaps the king to offer thanks. But she had thought Darien might send a note or stop by the room or, in some fashion, express concern for her well-being after such a dramatic day.

Not, of course, that it mattered to her that he had not.

“What has everyone been saying?” Zoe asked Annova as the older woman found a place for the yellow flowers. “What happened yesterday? Why was Josetta alone in the boat?”

“Have a meal first, and then Calvin will tell you everything he knows.”

It was the third time Annova had insisted Zoe eat something. Every time Zoe had opened her eyes during the past twelve hours, Annova had fed her small, quick meals before allowing her to fall asleep again. Zoe suspected that this was the reason she didn’t feel even worse, though she was wretched enough—sore, exhausted, every muscle stretched and pummeled. She had been surprised, when she checked her skin, to find not a single mark or bruise. She would have sworn her body had been slammed against a wall or rolled down a rocky hill. Her arms and shoulders felt the most abused, aching from the strain of being extended for so long.

As Zoe held back the waters with her own two hands.

How was such a thing possible?

She shivered a little in the bed.

“Have a
hot
meal first,” Annova amended. “Would you like another blanket? Should I build up the fire?”

“No—just—I want to hear what Calvin has to say. Please.”

Annova relented. “All right. But you must eat while he’s talking.”

Five minutes later, Zoe was sitting with a tray across her lap, picking at the soup, the bread, the cheese, and the sweets that Annova had provided. Calvin had settled his thin body into a chair at the foot of the bed, as if prepared to stay for a long, entertaining conversation. He was dressed in his usual bright colors, and his face was alight with excitement. Annova leaned against the wall, willing to listen, but mostly focused on making sure Zoe kept eating.


What
happened? And what is everybody saying?” Zoe demanded.

“The young princess was too hysterical to talk much yesterday afternoon, so we did not hear her story until this morning,” Calvin related in his raspy voice. “But she says that her hired sailors seemed to have trouble from the minute they cast off.”

“How many men were in the boat with her?” Zoe asked.

“Two. Apparently it is common for those who hire outside crews to hire them in pairs.”

“And what kind of trouble did they have?”

“One dropped his oar, the other steered them into a sandbar, so that before the race was even ten minutes old, they had fallen behind. She was very angry, she says, telling them that they would never be hired by anyone at the palace again and they might not be paid for this day’s work.”

“I imagine that made them angry as well.”

“Maybe,” Calvin said. “Once they got free of the sandbar, she says, they made some effort to get back in the race. They rowed hard until they were in a stretch where the river runs very fast and the boat was tossing on the water. Both of the men were on their feet when they got rocked by a rough current. One fell in and the other leapt in to try to save him.” Calvin paused for dramatic effect. “Josetta saw both of them get swept away by the river. She thinks they might have drowned. But
she
was carried forward by the motion of the water, unable to help them—or help herself.”

There was a short silence while the three of them thought this over. “It seems unlikely,” Annova said, “that two professional men would
both
be lost. In such a manner. On a course that is not particularly dangerous.”

Zoe nodded. It was exactly what she was thinking. Most men who chose lives at sea had at least some
coru
blood in them, and even though few of them would have the affinity for water that
she
had, not one in a thousand would lose his life under the conditions that had governed yesterday’s regatta. “Who hired these men?” she asked. “Her mother?”

Calvin waggled his head in an equivocal manner. “A footman employed by her mother. A
hunti
man who has worked for Seterre’s father his entire life.”

“So probably he did not betray her,” Zoe mused. “Then someone else bribed the sailors to abandon Josetta in the river.”

Calvin nodded. “That is what everyone in the palace is whispering this morning.”

Annova stirred, stepping away from the wall, her face full of disbelief and perturbation. “But—to desert the princess that way—in wild water—I mean, how could they know you would be able to save her?”

Zoe offered her the ghost of a smile. “They didn’t. They expected her to die.”

Annova stared at Zoe. Her eyes were a shocked hazel against her dark face. “Someone wanted to murder the princess?”

Calvin was nodding. “Of course, no one is saying so aloud. And it was cleverly done. The queen sent her own man to hire the sailors. They did not boldly leap overboard and swim for shore, but appeared to fall victim to a sad disaster. It
could
all have been a series of mishaps—tragic, of course, but hardly sinister.”

“And yet no one believes that,” Zoe said.

“No,” he said. “Everyone believes someone wanted Josetta to drown.”

“But why?” Annova demanded. “And who?”

“Someone who wants to eliminate her as a potential heir to the throne,” Zoe said. “Someone who wants to see her own daughter named heir instead.”

“Alys or Romelle,” Calvin said.

“Alys,” Annova and Zoe said at the same time.

Zoe added, “But if
we
think that, and we are practically strangers here, everyone else would also think it.”

“They do,” Calvin said. “I’ve heard her name a hundred times today—whispered so softly that you cannot tell who has said it.”

“So it might not be Alys after all,” Zoe said. “Because whatever else she might be, Alys isn’t clumsy. She isn’t obvious. She isn’t
stupid
.”

“Then—someone who wants to make it look like Alys tried to murder Josetta?” Annova guessed.

“I’ve heard that suspicion, too,” Calvin said, almost happily. Zoe knew that he simply loved court intrigue—and the fact that no one had died during this particular bout of scheming made it possible for him to enjoy the situation to the fullest.

“Then Romelle?” Annova said.

Zoe shook her head. “I suppose it’s possible, but she’s so—
maternal
. You’ve seen her with Natalie. I can’t imagine her harming a child.
Anybody’s
child.”

“And yet you scarcely know her,” Annova said. “Perhaps she would risk anything to give her daughter a better opportunity.”

Zoe sighed and nodded. “So what happens next?” she asked Calvin. “What is the king going to do? If everyone in the palace suspects attempted murder, surely there will be an investigation?”

“Oh yes,” Calvin said. “And Darien Serlast is the one running it.”

“Oh,” Zoe said. So perhaps that was why he had no time to come checking on exhausted heroines. He was tracking down would-be killers.

“But no one expects him to discover anything,” Calvin added. “Even if he finds out who the sailors were. Even if they’re still alive, they’ve surely fled Chialto by now. And if no one admits to bribing them, and there is no evidence—” He shrugged. “What can he find out?”

“Maybe nothing,” Zoe said. “But maybe that wouldn’t be the point. Maybe the point would be for Alys—or Romelle—or whoever did this, to be afraid to try again, because they know everyone is watching. That would at least be enough to keep Josetta safe.”

“Josetta
and
Corene,” Annova said. When Zoe looked at her, she added, “In case it was Romelle.”

“You’re right,” Zoe said. “Both princesses could be in danger.”

“All of them,” Calvin said. “In case it wasn’t any of the queens. In case it was merely someone who hates the king.”

“In which case,” Zoe said softly, “none of the princesses will be safe no matter what.”

“But the princesses are only part of yesterday’s story,” Calvin said. “Everyone is talking about
you
as well.”

“I’m not surprised,” Annova said. “If the description I’ve heard is anything like the truth—”

“What are they saying?” Zoe interrupted.

Calvin waved his hands in the air. “The Lalindar prime has unimaginable powers! She can stop the river merely by willing it! The Lalindar prime is the one who has ended the drought that has strained the country for the past few years!”

“Is that true?” Annova demanded.

Zoe shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s true that there was never drought where I lived. But the rain just seemed to follow me. I never consciously called it.”

“Well, you consciously stopped the river yesterday,” Annova said. “Didn’t you?”

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Zoe said. “I
wanted
the river to stop. I whispered the word. But I didn’t think—and it hadn’t occurred to me—it seemed impossible that it would do what I said.”

“Well, it did,” Calvin said, leaning forward. “And everyone is impressed, but everyone is a little uneasy, too. Is it safe for someone to have that kind of power? Some people are afraid.”

“I don’t know why they’d be afraid of
me
,” Zoe said a little petulantly. “From what I’ve heard, Christara had some power over water as well. And if
I
can do such spectacular tricks, wouldn’t you think the other primes have some abilities as well? Maybe Kayle Dochenza can call up the wind, if he likes, and Mirti Serlast can split the trunk of a tree merely by laying a hand upon it.”

“I think it is the scale of your power that frightens them,” Calvin said. “Stopping a river in its banks? Christara Lalindar never did that.”

“Maybe she did, just never in front of anybody,” Zoe argued.

“It works out to the same thing,” Calvin said.

Zoe shrugged. “So? What do they want? These people who whisper about me. Do they want me to leave the palace? Gladly! Go live in exile? Not a hardship.”

“It doesn’t matter what they want, does it?” Annova asked. “Aren’t you here because the king desires your presence? Then I think you must stay until he asks you to leave.”

Zoe sighed and flopped back against the pillows. Impossible to believe, but she wanted to sleep again. Annova hurried forward to snatch up the tray of half-eaten food before it slid off of Zoe’s lap. “Well, I don’t suppose I have to leave this instant, at any rate,” she said. “I suppose I at least will wait to hear what the king thinks about me now.”

Or what Darien tells the king to think,
she thought drowsily. The smile was still on her lips as she fell back asleep.

 

 

K
ing Vernon was the first visitor to her room the following morning. He had sent a note warning them of his impending arrival, so Zoe was up, washed, dressed, and styled before he arrived at her door. She was feeling much better today—ravenous, which Annova took as a good sign, and unexpectedly cheerful. Almost exuberant. The aftereffects of power, she thought. Her father had sometimes claimed that fire acted upon him like alcohol; he could be drunk with sensation if he sat too close to the hearth. She suspected this was her reaction to the demonstration two days ago. Yesterday she had merely been too tired to feel it.

“Majesty,” she said, bowing very low when he stepped into the room. She spotted a contingent of guards in the hallway behind him, though none of them came in with him. None of them was Darien Serlast, either.

“Zoe,” he replied, coming close enough to take her hand in both of his. She felt the sudden warm pulse of his blood, familiar from that last time that he had touched her. “I don’t believe I can express how deeply grateful I am that you were there to save the princess’s life. Josetta is very dear to me. I cannot imagine a world without her in it. By what token will you allow me to express my thanks?”

She shook her head. “I need nothing.”

“I have land—beautiful properties in provinces throughout the kingdom—”

She shook her head again. “I am scarcely equipped to manage the Lalindar property that has come into my possession,” she said. “I certainly would be a poor landowner for any other estate.”

“Money, then—jewels.”

“Majesty, I have more than enough of both of those.”

“Status,” he said, “political power. I could arrange a marriage that would raise you to a position even higher than it is now.”

She couldn’t help wondering what potential husbands might wield such political clout; surely Darien Serlast was among them? It would be interesting to see how he reacted to the notion that the king regarded him as a prize to be awarded for exceptional service to the crown. But she refused again. “I am not prepared to marry, certainly not for such a reason,” she said. “But I do have a suggestion.”

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