Wind Over Bone: The Estralony Cycle #2 (Young Adult Fantasy Romance) (11 page)

“
Stupendously done.” Yelse stood beside her. “Your first murders?”

Sarid shook her head, as if clearing a mist from it. Then she vaulted over the railing.

There was a cold, shocking silence. She pulled herself lower into the lake, until the dark blue yawned all around. But a drop of sunlight must have slipped past the lowering shadows: she saw the glint of a ring. His hand was raised above him and she caught it, pulled him up, put an arm around his waist. He moved at her touch, and she swam with him toward the surface. At last the water became green. He opened his eyes, and the sun made them glow.

When they broke the surface he took a rattling breath. Sarid pulled him by the shirt over to the barge’s side, where a hand reached down to help him up. Gryka barked hysterically from the boat’s edge. Sarid handed him off, then sucked air into her burning lungs, and dove back down.

She searched for Selya until lights flashed behind her eyes, until her head was like to burst, until she had to reach for the surface, her heart screaming.

She took a breath and then dove and searched again.

Finally, her heart small and cold, she swam to the side of the barge and pulled herself over the railing. Gryka snuffled around her, but she pushed the dog away and bent over, fists on her throbbing temples, too tired to cry. Already men were punting and plying the pedals, and the big wheel churned slowly at the back, and the barge moved toward the shore.

Someone had finally cut Leva free. She sat on the ground, fingering her frayed hair, petted by her mother and sister.

Sarid got up to find Rischa. The tables were blackened and nothing was on them; everything had been washed overboard. Great parts of the boat were unrecognizably charred. It was a dismal thing to see, cast in perfect relief under the bright sun.

Rischa was sitting on a bench, looking astoundingly invigorated. Yelse sat beside him, soaked through like everyone else, her cheeks flushed. Their hands were twined together, heads bent close, and Sarid, feeling a dreadful pang, stopped to listen.

“I don’t know how you did it,” Rischa said. “Little thing like you.”

“
I don’t know, either.”

“
I think I’m done pitying you. You deserve more. I wouldn’t have believed it, but your hair––it was like sunlight.”

Sarid caught her breath at the description of
her
hair. She trembled and an angry shriek rose in her throat.

She didn’t let it out.

Ten

Evening fell and Sarid walked wearily to her room. She’d almost reached it when Gryka began to bark. There were two menservants in Charevost livery hanging around her fireplace.

“You’re wanted for questioning,” one of them said awkwardly.

The other took Sarid’s arm. “We’re to take you to the hearing room, my lady––”

“Can’t I change?”

“
You’re to come immediately.”

“
Can’t I fetch a cloak at least?” Sarid said, and a low rumble came from Gryka. The man eyed the dog and let go of Sarid’s arm.

“
You can follow me in,” she said.

They gaped as she went down on her hands and knees. The second man followed her through and stood by uncertainly while she wrapped a gray cloak around herself. She bade Gryka stay behind.

After the two menservants had led her down many flights of stairs, they came to a long corridor with rows of closed doors. One of the men produced a lock. He opened one of the doors and bowed her through into what seemed a sort of antechamber.

They locked her in. As the room had no furnishings she sat on the floor in her wet clothes and waited for half an hour.

When the menservants came back they opened a door on the other side of the room, and ushered her into a much bigger room with a high ceiling painted with fiery Simarghs and winged hounds.

On a dais in the front of the room were six lords and ladies, looking grim and stiff in their tall dark chairs. A group of people stood in the back of the room, murmuring. Sarid’s stomach fluttered––her clothes were the only ones still soaked and singed.

The menservants led her before the dais. They bowed and left her there. Her skirts dripped on the flagstones and she stared at the fine purple robes in front of her.

“
Sarid Hyeda,” said Count Pash, who sat in the tallest chair, “you stand accused of bribery, endangerment, and attempted murder.”

“
She’s dealing in dangerous powers.” Vanli’s voice echoed from the back. “Mind control, maybe. Ought to be interrogated––”

“
Peace, Vanli,” said Pash. “Now, girl. How do you plead?”

Sarid said nothing. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish’s.

A small door opened behind the dais and Rischa came out. He had only a shirt and breeches on, and a wet cloth in his hand.

“
You’re questioning her?” he asked Pash.

“
Why not?” said Vanli.

“
You think she wanted to kill Leva?” Rischa smiled and shook his head, looking remarkably like his brother. “Who would’ve guessed her pretty head held such wicked thoughts.”

“
I
thought it probable, for one,” said Vanli.

“
You didn’t let her change, either? Well, if you don’t kill her with a trial you’ll kill her with a cold,” said Rischa.

“
I wanted her safely in custody,” said Count Pash, and Sarid would’ve laughed if her stomach weren’t churning so. “Now wait your turn to speak––”

“
He can’t,” called Vanli. “Not allowed to interfere in provincial courts. It’s our right.”

“
Your right turned to a privilege,” said Rischa, “five years ago when a provincial court sentenced the Ravinya’s grandmother to death because she taught a serf her letters. I expect my uncle will disapprove, but I’m going to dissolve this––whatever this is.”

“
The impudence of him,” whispered Pash to the chamberlain, who sat next to him.

“
That’s right,” said Rischa. “Take it up with the Ravyir if you want. Maybe he’ll have me caned.”

“
Sarid’s said nothing yet.” Leva stood in the doorway Rischa had come out of. Her hair was wet and ragged, her gown damp as Sarid’s. “Let’s hear her.”

“
I had nothing to do with it,” said Sarid. “I didn’t even want to go to the banquet.”

“
I had to convince her,” said Rischa. “And nothing else needs doing––”

“
You had to convince her to board the boat?” said Pash.

“
As though,” murmured the chamberlain, “she knew how the thing would proceed.”

“
She didn’t seem surprised at the saebel,” said Vanli.

“
She looked terrifically angry to me,” said Leva. “Used her power to
quench
the fire. The wave didn’t fall from the sky.”

“
There. Why would she foil her own plan?” said Rischa.

“
Have you forgotten that your royal cousin drowned, boy?” said Pash.

“
It was an accident,” said Leva. “And she saved Rischa.”

“
That was Lady Yelse,” said Pash, waving his fat hand away. “You’ve mistaken women.”

“
I know what I saw––”

“
You were under extreme stress, Leva,” said Pash. “Your testimony in this matter is faulty. Which calls into question whether you saw her raise the wind.”

“
I can second her,” called Mari from the back. “I saw Sarid pulling at the wind. And don’t tell me I was stressed. We were
all
stressed.”

“
I saw the girl raise her hand,” said an elderly gentleman sitting on Pash’s left, “just as the wind picked up.”

“
Who else?” said Mari. “Who else could’ve done it, if not her?”

“
Then we’ve determined she has dangerous powers,” said Vanli. “She’s circumspectly involved. She should be questioned, for Leva’s safety.”

“
Questioned how?” said Rischa.

“
There is a method I should like to try, involving a mushroom and perhaps your brother, if he could be spared––”

“
Confound it, Vanli.” Rischa’s voice rang off the ceiling. “Do you think I’d let you interrogate anyone? I’ve seen what you do to sparrows and cats.

“
Madam,” he said to Sarid, “you are acquitted, case closed, everyone to bed.”

***

Instead everyone stayed put, milling around and yelling at each other; everyone but Sarid, who slipped through the crowd and out the door.

She lost herself in the lower levels for a good hour. Then she found a familiar stair and made her way to her room for the second time that evening. She was wide-awake, heart pounding. Her clothes had soaked through her cloak and she held her arms to her stomach, thinking of warm things and fire. Soon her thoughts turned to burning hair and melting skin and blackened bone, and Charevost in a heap of ashes. Steam rose from her skin and poured off her cloak.

She came to her fireplace and crawled through. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness she heard Gryka whine. The dog was tied to a bedpost, muzzle bound with a cloth.

Vanli Pash lounged against the other bedpost. “Took your time, didn’t you?”

Another boy bent over her desk, lighting her lantern. “No arsing around, Pash.” The flickering light fell over his face. It was Rokal, Rischa’s friend. “This business makes me uncomfortable. Let’s get it over with.”

“
Tie her hands,” said a third boy, one of Vanli’s toadies.

“
Scared she’ll blow us to Benmarum?” said another

“
You should be.” This came from someone lying on Sarid’s bed.  “They have due process over there.”

Sarid pushed Vanli aside and said to Savvel, who was in the bed, “What have they done with your guard?”

“I don’t know.” Savvel took off his boots, and tossed them on the floor. “But I am desperate for entertainment.”

“
I convinced the guard that Savvel was needed in the courtroom,” said Vanli, smiling. “I made sure of an escort, so they saw they needn’t come along.”

“
You didn’t shout out?” said Sarid to Savvel. “You made no commotion?”

“
How could I with such a ruthless escort as Caveira, Eianhurt, and Tavenov? And Sheriff Pash.” Savvel picked at his toenails.

“
Not on my bed,” said Sarid. “Now,” she said to Vanli, “kindly tell me what you mean to do.”

“
Certainly,” said Vanli. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and spread it on the bed. From the same pocket came a small red leather bag. He undid the strings and dumped the contents onto the kerchief: dried slices of some sort of fruit. They were rust-red, mottled over with tiny whirls.

The other boys came over and leaned in. One had a rope.

“
Kelimondra
,” said Sarid. “The shamans’ mushroom. You’re going to make me eat it?”

“
No,” said Vanli. “I’m certain mind-altering plants have little effect on a hobgoblin like you.”

“
True enough.”  Her arms were steaming again.

“
But you are a necessary part of the procedure. My lord Savvel will eat the mushrooms. And then he will take your hands, like this”––Vanli pressed his thumbs into Sarid’s palms––“and look you in the eyes, like this, and tell us everything you’ve ever done in his presence, everything you’ve ever told him, including the things he can’t remember. And we four witnesses will have the deadly butterfly pinned.”

Sarid took her hands away. “Meanwhile, the mushrooms will give Savvel such awful pain it will feel as though his innards are exploding. So he’ll have to stay on the bed.”

Savvel sat up farther and rapped his head against the headboard. “Is that the bit you hadn’t time to tell me, Pash?”

“
Then there’s this,” said Sarid. “
Kelimondra
means ‘lifting the veil.’ I suppose you’re one of those that think it means finding out the truth––but you would actually be lifting the veil to the subconscious. Madness, Vanli Pash, is what happens. The mushrooms are so hallucinogenic that Savvel’s imagination, already formidable, will completely overhaul any
truth
he remembers.”

“
I don’t see why we can’t experiment to find out who is right,” said Vanli.

“
You’re no shaman, Vanli Pash. You would be adding a garrote, rack, and pincers to an already tortured view of reality.”

“
The old masters say truth and reality are relative abortions of the subconscious, Miss Hyeda, so I shall twist them to suit my purposes.”

She shrugged. “Twist them as much as you like. But Savvel shan’t eat the mushrooms.”

“Oh?” He took her by the hands again. “You forget who is the master of this hall.”

“
Rischa?” He gave her hands a painful twist. She ignored it. “He’ll hear of it.”

“
And believe it? I can’t imagine you and Savvel together are very convincing.”

He said to Eianhurt, who had the rope, “Tie her to the bed.”

Two of the boys grabbed her arms. Rokal backed away. A wind ruffled his hair. “I think we’ve scared her enough.”

“
Really?” said one of the boys, tying the rope around her wrist. “I thought you’d enjoy tying a girl to a bed.”

Steam poured off Sarid’s cloak and frizzled her hair.

“The show grows wearisome,” said Savvel.

She didn’t bother to raise her arms. All four of her windows broke their sashes and bust open. Her books flapped like birds, and the four boys were tossed against the far wall with her bedcovers.

The wind blew a candelabrum from a niche and slammed it next to Vanli. One of its arms curved over his neck, pressing into his throat. Sarid walked toward them, her hair flying about her face. “You forget that I deal in dangerous powers.” A chair crashed into the wall, narrowly missing Rokal. Vanli’s face darkened, his eyes bugged.

“
Ida,” called Savvel from the bed, where he had wrapped himself around a post. “Any further and little Pash will probably expire.”

The wind slackened slightly and the candelabra fell to the ground. Sarid reached into the air and caught a piece of
kelimondra
. Anger made her hands shake so that she almost couldn’t hold onto it. “Close your mouth if you like,” she said to Vanli. “It’s just as effective up the nose.” She stuffed it up Vanli’s nose. “Threatening me with an herb? You must not think me monstrous enough.” She pinched his nose and joggled his head, and the wind died completely.

The boys, suddenly unsupported, dropped to the floor. Dust and leaves and paper fell around them. 

“Take him out before he starts blubbing,” she said to them. “Mind you write down what he says. I should like to know the truth.”

“
We’ll have you,” said Eianhurt, scrambling to his knees, shaking dust out of his hair. “We’ll have you both.”

“
Don’t think too hard on it,” said Savvel, and the three boys rolled Vanli though the fireplace. “Bitterness is bad for your mental health.”