Bloodkin (Jaseth of Jaelshead) (44 page)

Thaelique left me with two glasses and a corkscrew and ducked upstairs to quickly wash off her disguise. When she returned I toasted her health and we drank a glass of the admittedly fine wine. We talked about nothing in particular, though she was rather interested in Lux, so I ended up telling her the whole story of Joey and Charlie’s rescue of the baby Mingle. She looked thoughtful as I told her again about Lux’ father’s theft of the Black moss. When we had finished one glass, I poured another and Thaelique stood, going over to her desk and retrieving a long, silver-handled pipe and a black velvet bag containing her smaller pouches of moss.

“We should go upstairs,” she told me and I gulped, loud enough that I fervently hoped she, with her normal Human hearing, didn’t notice. The Queen’s
bedroom
was upstairs, was she inviting me to—

“To the balcony,” she continued after a brief pause. Oh hell, did she do that on purpose? Again, I got the distinct impression that Thaelique was amusing herself at my expense.

“Um, yeah. Balcony sounds good.”

Thaelique gathered up her glass and the bottle, leaving me to take up the pipe and the moss as well as my glass. Up the spiral staircase she led me through the left-hand door, and we were out on the balcony.

Before the Leaving, the whole top floor of the tower would have been open. The battlements looked straight over the side of the castle to the lake below, and catapults had probably been set up between them to fend off attacks on the castle by water. Now, however, the half of the rooftop that faced the city had been built in to contain the sleeping and bathing quarters of the current Monarch. The open part of the roof was where we now stood. Thaelique placed the wine on a small round table and gestured to a brazier beside it, filled with new wood, but unlit.

“Jaseth, would you care to light this for me?”

I obliged, sparking the bottom of the brazier with Hầұeӣ until hungry flames licked the wood. That done, I sat with Thaelique as she packed her pipe with some Red moss and handed it to me to light.

“You’re pretty handy with that,” she observed, accepting the smoking pipe.

“Yeah, it’s pretty good now I’m not going around setting random things on fire.”

“Oh?” She raised an amused eyebrow at me, so I told her about the night the Nea’thi assessors had come to Jaelshead and I caused the huge fire in the leaf pile. That had been a bitter memory – just another reminder of my parents’ lack of trust in me, but telling Thaelique about it somehow seemed to drain the poison away, and she laughed gaily with me about the foibles of my sixteen-year-old self.

As the spring sun angled around and began its descent over the lake to the west, we drank and enjoyed the Red and laughed. I surprised myself with the ease of Thaelique’s company. It had only been a few months since I had seen her in person for the first
time and could barely look her in the eye. At one point I stood and went to inspect the battlements, arranged in blocks around the waist-high wall that ran the perimeter of the rooftop. From here, you couldn’t even see the city, just the lake stretching out to the south. We could have been anywhere, the two of us, alone. Thaelique came and stood beside me as I ran my hand over the rough, old stone.

“It’s a pretty amazing view you’ve got here,” I told her.

“Isn’t it?” She smiled ruefully at me. “Though I get a touch of vertigo when I stand too close to the edge.” She sighed, her mood changing. “It’s hard to imagine a time when Humans needed all this to be safe.” She indicated the battlements with a movement of her wine glass.

“Yeah, well, apparently we loved our wars!” I said, trying to lighten the moment, but she looked at me seriously.

“There were so many wars. Too many. People doing disgusting, terrible things to each other, and for what? Because there were mad, greedy people in charge, demanding their subjects give their lives to acquire that which did not belong to them.”

I was a bit disturbed by this turn in the conversation, and used the opportunity to place a hand lightly on her shoulder.

“Well at least we don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

She looked at me, considering. “But do you really think that?” she almost whispered.

What did she mean by that?

“Well, yes! Of course! There hasn’t been a war since the Leaving.”

She sighed and turned back to the lake. “Has it occurred to you that there could very well be a war in the making right now?”

I laughed, too loudly. Was she serious? “Who would we go to war with? Yhull?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think our enemy is within us.”

Which didn’t really make sense.

“What, are you worried about the Mingles and stuff?”

She glanced at me quickly, a sad smile on her lips. “Worried? Yes, that would be one way to put it.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t bring you up here to unburden myself. Shall we have some more Red?”

I was so pleased with myself, so distracted by the joy of being alone with Thaelique that I didn’t pay much thought to what she had said. Later on, afterwards, I would look back on what she had told me and wonder. Wonder if maybe, had I listened to her, would things have worked out differently? Could I have somehow prevented what happened? Stupid, I know, to think that way, but it kept coming back to haunt me: the contents of a conversation with the beautiful Queen, held as the sun went down one particular spring day.

595 A.L.

t seems like a cliché when other people say it.

People who had escaped death by merest fractions, slightest chances. Hell, you know it’s a cliché when
you
say it. But you have to. There are simply no other words.

It could have been me.

The festival of Beltane is held on the first of May every year. As we had the day off from the Academy, we went to the Temple for an early service, thanking the earth that sustains us, and expressing gratitude for the turning of the seasons that now was bringing us back into the warmth of summer.

This Beltane was one of the first truly warm days of the year, and as we browsed the markets in the Merchants’ Quarter after Temple I was glad to be wearing my light linen robe. Telgeth, Lolitha and I strolled around with our Mentors, grabbing some delicious, newly-baked pies for our lunch. After dropping off our purchases at the Hall we went down to the Shivering Thistle for cool drinks and some moss. We sat outside in the rooftop garden, enjoying the warmth underneath the shade cloths.

Thaelique and Myr Serbastient spent each festival day on a formal tour of the city. The streets through the Quarter were one of their last destinations, and after a jug or two of sangria we could see over the side of the Thistle the crowd beginning to line the street below, in preparation for the royal parade.

“Come on, shall we go see your girlfriend ride past?” Telgeth winked at me.

“She is
not
my girlfriend,” I muttered.

I had half a mind simply to watch the parade from the roof of the tavern. As promised, I had seen Thaelique every Saturday at the Thistle for our lessons. Afterwards, depending on her schedule for the evening, she would let me walk her back to the castle, once or twice ordering meals to be brought up to us from the kitchen. Now, I was almost reluctant to watch her ride past with all the other people, who were happy just to catch a glimpse of her exquisite face. I didn’t want her to see me as just another idiot in the crowd. I was her
friend
, even if she had made it abundantly clear that she wouldn’t – couldn’t – form any sort of romantic attachment while still in office. It was almost enough for me just to be able to hang out with her. Almost.

Telgeth got his way, of course, so we finished our drinks and went downstairs, to stand on the street outside the tavern – this route must have been particularly chosen for the relative width of the road. Soon enough, we heard cheering from around the corner, and we all craned our necks as the royal procession came into view.

Guards on foot walked ahead of the Queen and her Advisor who were seated, as a courtesy to his aged legs, in an open-topped carriage drawn by two horses. I could see Thaelique’s hair shining in the light that filtered through the shades over the street.

Telgeth elbowed me in the side. “Ooh, look Jas, here she comes!”

We Bloodkin were at the front of the crowd by the street, our Mentors standing behind us, looking over our shoulders with their advantage of height. The parade grew slowly closer to us, as the Queen and Myr Serbastient smiled and waved to the crowd. When they drew level with us, a Human woman
moved forward from beside me to hand Thaelique a bunch of hawthorn branches in bloom – a traditional Beltane gift. The Queen paused the progress of the carriage to accept the boughs, and she smiled and thanked the woman. As she drew back, Thaelique glanced over and caught my eye, and gave me a happy grin and a tiny wink. Then I heard a sharp whistling past my ear and a loud
thunk
behind me and Thaelique’s smile froze in a mask of horror.

I turned to see what had caught her attention, and saw Thomas sway for a second before collapsing onto the pavement, an arrow sprouting from his throat.

“Shit Tommo, what the hell?” Telgeth cried as Thomas grabbed futilely at his robe as he fell. “Thomas? What’s wrong? Shit, Tommo!” Telgeth knelt beside him and noticed the arrow. “Somebody help me!” he shrieked as Thomas gasped and gurgled, blood pooling from the wound in his throat. “Thomas! Don’t… Effing hell, Tommo! Somebody help him! My Mentor’s been hurt!” Telgeth yelled, his voice cracking. One woman, and then another started to scream as they saw Thomas convulsing on the ground, his hand scrabbling at the arrow, his mouth shaping words but not making any sounds as blood started to trickle from his lips.

“
Thomas
!” Telgeth was screaming now. “Charlie! For Lilbecz’ sake, help him!”

I spun around to look for Thaelique, just in time to see some invisible force wrench open the door to the carriage and the Queen being pulled bodily out and onto the street, where she promptly disappeared. In the very next moment there was a bright flash, followed by a deafening roar, as the other side of the carriage exploded. I was thrown back onto Charlie with the shockwave that followed a split-second later. Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me roughly to my feet. I looked down to see who had pulled me up, and could see absolutely nothing. My whole arm had disappeared. Through the screaming crowd I was forcefully dragged, momentarily blinded by the stinging black smoke that was pouring from the remains of the carriage. Terrified wails filled the air, with the noise and my streaming eyes I was totally
disorientated, my feet moving of their own accord as I stumbled along, pulled by some invisible hand.

Suddenly, there in front of me was the door to the Shivering Thistle. I saw it open, as if of its own accord, and was roughly shoved inside. Before the door slammed behind me, I got to take one glance back at the street. The crowds were fleeing, trampling mindlessly in their terror, their screams punctuated by the hideous shrieks of horses in terrible pain. I caught a glimpse of the Queen’s carriage, now burning furiously, where Thaelique had sat only seconds before. There was a still little lump on the other side that I realised with a sick horror was Myr Serbastient.