Shalador's Lady (15 page)

She sounded so lost, so wounded.

He knew it was proper. As the Master’s second-in-command, he should inform Talon at the very least.

But if he involved anyone else in the court right now, most likely Cassidy would be talked into staying here

—and the next time she decided to run, she wouldn’t delay long enough to pack her things or leave a note.

They’d find out about it when Yaslana landed on their doorstep demanding answers.

“No,” he said. “No one needs to know where you are. Not yet.”

He hadn’t convinced her, and he didn’t know what else to say. But he could think of one thing to do.

Using Craft, he closed the lids on her trunks—and vanished them.

Cassidy stared at the empty floor. “You took my trunks.”

“I did.” Getting his mouth to smile felt like he was trying to bend stone, but he did it. Or close enough.

“I’ll give them back when we reach the boardinghouse.”

She studied him.

“What?” he asked.

She sniffled into the handkerchief once more, then vanished it. “For a moment there, you sounded like Lucivar.”

He decided to take that as a compliment. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You’ll talk to Gray?”

“I will. I hope you won’t be upset if he decides to join you.”

“Do you think he would?”

Oh, Cassie. Are you hurting so much you can’t remember that he loves you? “I do, darling. I really do.”

Ranon and Cassidy slipped out of the house, wrapped in an Opal sight shield to lessen the number of people who might be able to detect her. He trusted her to go down to the gate while he went to the stables to get a horse—praying to the Darkness that she didn’t walk onto the landing web, catch the Rose Wind, and run to the Keep. Riding double to the Coaching station, they rented a small Coach, giving the driver who should have gone with them a generous tip to watch the horse—and not ask questions.

Riding the Opal Winds, switching from radial to tether lines whenever needed, they finally reached the landing web on the northern end of his home village.

And through the whole of the journey, Cassidy never said one word.

*Grandfather,* Ranon called as soon as he dropped the Coach from the Opal Web and skimmed over the landing web. He could handle a small Coach when riding the Winds, but using Craft and power to hold one steady as it skimmed above the road was an untested skill. *Grandfather!*

*Ranon?* Yairen sounded muddled. Then the voice on the psychic thread sharpened. *Ranon?*

*I need help.* He could picture his grandfather pushing himself up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. After all, anyone in their right mind who wasn’t demon-dead would be asleep at this hour. *I brought Cassidy. There’s been some trouble.*

*Is she wounded?*

The genuine concern in Yairen’s voice told Ranon that he’d made the right choice. *Not her body, but her heart is wounded.*

*Gray?*

*No. It’s . . . complicated. She was going to leave us, Grandfather. I convinced her to come here instead.*

*Where?*

*The boardinghouse.*

*Go slowly, grandson. Give this old man a little time to prepare. I will meet you at the house. Janos will come too.*

*Thank you.*

Yairen broke the link. Ranon slowed the Coach to the pace of an ambling walk—and hoped Cassidy wouldn’t ask him why the Coach was suddenly wobbling so much.

By the time he set the Coach down on the street in front of the boardinghouse, there were lamps shining in the windows of several rooms, and doors and windows were open to let in cool night air.

“We’re here,” he said, holding out a hand.

She slipped her hand in his, still saying nothing as she followed him out of the Coach and into the house.

His grandfather waited for them in the front parlor.

“The Rose has come back to us,” Yairen said, smiling. “It grieves me to know you sorrow, but you are among friends here.” He gestured to two chairs and a table. “Come and sit with an old man.”

She sat, and she seemed so empty Ranon wondered if he’d brought more than a husk to Eyota.

Yairen waved a hand over the table. Two mugs and a carafe appeared. Using Craft, Yairen poured dark, steaming liquid from the carafe into the mugs.

“This is a special drink,” Yairen said. “I usually make it when strong men need to speak of things that are troubling their hearts, but I think tonight your heart could use this.”

“I don’t think I can speak,” Cassidy whispered.

Yairen smiled gently. “Even silence has a voice. Drink. Perhaps we will talk. Perhaps not. Perhaps I alone will talk and tell you more about the music of my people, even give you the first lesson in how to play a drum.”

Cassidy took a sip of his grandfather’s special brew of spiced whiskey and coffee. She took another sip. “I would like to hear more about your music.”

“Good.” Yairen looked at Ranon. “Are you still here, troublemaker?”

“Troublemaker?” Cassidy asked.

“Bah.” Yairen waved one hand gently in front of his face. “The stories I could tell you about that one. Go

on, now,” he added, pointing at Ranon. “Leave us to talk without your bothersome presence.”

Cassidy snorted and took another, larger sip of the brew.

*Tend to your business, grandson,* Yairen said. *The Rose will be safe here among us.*

*Don’t tell her too many stories.* He looked at Cassidy. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“You promised to give me back my trunks when we got here,” Cassidy said.

“Oh. I did, didn’t I?” This time his smile wasn’t forced. He called in her trunks and set them at the other end of the parlor.

“See?” Yairen said, laughing. “Troublemaker.”

An hour before sunrise, most of the First Circle gathered in a meeting room.

Ranon had figured he would face anger. He’d figured he would face temper.

What he faced was so much worse.

There was a chilling blankness in Gray’s eyes, and Ranon couldn’t shake the conviction that what was under that blankness was a violence that even the Blood would find shocking. There was a smoldering fury in Shira’s eyes, and he hoped with everything in him that he wasn’t the target.

He brushed lightly against the first of her inner barriers—and found nothing comforting.

*My first loyalty is to the Queen, remember?* he asked her.

She didn’t respond, but he sensed a little less tension in her. He didn’t blame her for being angry. All he’d told her was that he and Cassidy were leaving the mansion and she should inform Gray so he wouldn’t be searching for her and alarm the First Circle. Of course, Shira and Gray had assumed Cassidy would be with him when he returned.

The other men looked a little pissed off at being summoned so early in the morning. Except Powell, who sat quietly, staring at his hands—especially at his left hand, which a Queen had broken because he cared more about people who needed food and clothes than about the Queen’s purse.

Then Talon entered the room and put Sapphire shields around the room and a Sapphire lock on the door.

“All right, Ranon,” Talon said. “You were very specific about who should attend this meeting—and who should not. We’re here. Now talk.”

He heard temper that was chained—but not for long. Not if he said the wrong thing. Talon outranked all of them, had centuries of fighting experience, and had locked them all in a room with the strongest predator in Dena Nehele.

Had locked him in a room with the strongest predator.

“I took Cassidy to Eyota, to the boardinghouse,” Ranon said.

Gray snarled and took a step toward him.

Powell raised his head and stared at him.

He didn’t want to turn his back on Talon, but Gray was the more volatile threat, so he faced the Warlord Prince who had been a friend—and might now be an enemy.

“She was going to leave us, Gray,” he said quickly, wanting them to hear him, to know why he made this choice before someone’s temper snapped the leash. “She was going to leave all of us. When I went up to her suite to check on her, her trunks were packed. She was going back to Dharo.”

“She wouldn’t leave without telling me,” Gray said too softly as he took another step toward Ranon. “She wouldn’t leave without me.”

“I had to get her out of here, get her hidden so she would feel safe. I promised to come back and tell you, and I have, Gray. As soon as I got her settled at the boardinghouse, I came back. To talk to you. All of you.”

“You should have talked to us first,” Talon growled.

“Maybe I should have.” Ranon turned enough to address Talon and still keep track of Gray. “But she was focused on getting out of this house. I did what the Queen needed, rather than what the court required.”

Sweet Darkness, please let Talon understand the difference.

“She’s sick,” Shira said, her voice oddly hollow. “She tried to hide it, but there’s so much pain in her it’s like a poison. She knew I could feel it. That’s why she stopped coming to me for help. She didn’t want anyone sensing that pain.”

“As Steward, I must censure Prince Ranon for not informing the Master of the Guard that he was taking the Queen away from the protection of her escorts,” Powell said quietly. “However, I also applaud the speed in which he acted on the Queen’s behalf—and on the court’s behalf. And I’m wondering if, despite the reason it came about, this might not be a good thing.”

They all turned toward Powell.

“How so?” Talon asked.

Powell pulled on one earlobe. “From the day she formed her court, Cassidy has been hobbled by Theran’s resistance to every attempt she has made to be a Queen to our people. He brought her here, so we have deferred to him, letting him dictate what she could and could not do. But I, for one, would like to see what Cassidy can do as our Queen without those hobbles.”

I’d like to see that too, Ranon thought.

“So,” Powell said. “Are we moving the Queen’s residence to the boardinghouse? If that’s the case, some work will need to be done to some of the rooms.”

“Is that what we’re talking about?” Archerr looked at Ranon. “A permanent move to a Shalador reserve?”

“I don’t know,” Ranon replied, feeling the need to tread carefully. “I just wanted to get her away from Kermilla and those Dharo bastards so Cassidy could rest without having that bitch in her face every time she turned around.”

“Why haven’t we booted Lady Kermilla out of Dena Nehele?” Shaddo asked.

“Or buried her,” Spere said.

“Because she’s a Queen from Kaeleer and a guest in this house,” Talon said. “And despite the pain her presence causes Cassidy, Kermilla hasn’t done anything to justify execution.”

“However, Kermilla was involved in something that harmed Cassidy back in Dharo,” Powell said.

“Something that made her feel she was less of a Queen.”

“The whip that drives Cassie,” Gray said softly.

“Gray?” Ranon said just as softly. The blankness faded from Gray’s eyes, replaced by a steely anger.

“When I went up to the Keep to talk to the High Lord, he said the whip that drives Cassie was shaped before she arrived in Dena Nehele—and left scars. That’s why she drained herself too much and got hurt.

She was trying to prove she could be a good Queen.”

“I think we all have a good idea now whose hand held that whip,” Talon said, his voice rumbling like icy gravel.

“All the more reason to keep Lady Cassidy away from this house while Theran’s guest is in residence,”

Shira said.

Talon looked at Powell, who nodded.

“All right,” Talon said. “We’ll go to Eyota, and we’ll go with the assumption we won’t be coming back to Grayhaven, whether we stay in that village or not. And we have to move fast.”

“Yes,” Powell said. “It would be best if we depart before Theran realizes Cassidy is gone. And it would be best not to leave any of the court’s records behind.”

A long beat of silence.

“What are you saying?” Ranon asked.

“That for a Queen who rules a small village in another Realm and is supposed to be a guest, Lady Kermilla is asking inappropriate questions about the tithes a Queen here could expect.” Powell looked at Talon, whose mouth thinned to a grim line.

Watching the two men, Ranon wondered what else the Steward might be telling the Master of the Guard.