Shadow Dance Page 22

  I should have felt something, then. All I could muster was a sort of numb acceptance that Arramy was under my feet, alive. I was too exhausted to think or feel anything else. The crazy surge of energy that had driven me to jump on Enrys was long gone, and in its place loomed the possibility that this would be the last thing I ever did. The purr of an expensive engine, the golden glow of the cabin lights, the rumble of rubber-clad wheels over cobblestone, these were my death-march. I couldn't stop it or slow it down. Everything in the last few months had driven me here, to this moment, and now it was rushing at me like a freighter.

  With a sigh, I rested my aching head on the window.

  "Why do you insist on protecting him?"

  I closed my eyes.

  There was a pause, and I imagined Braeton shaking his head, his jaw tight. "He doesn't deserve your loyalty, Bren. Whatever good he might have done, it doesn't outweigh the bad."

  "I know," I whispered, frowning.

  "He's dangerous." Braeton's voice took on a tone of censure. "He might be nothing but a tool, but he's a good one. He follows orders without question. He told them your father was on the Galvania, Bren, that's how far back this goes. He was using you as bait."

  That struck me as funny. I chuckled in spite of the pain lancing through my ribs as Braeton's words found their mark. I looked at him without turning my head. "So, sort of like you are now." I waved a hand in the general direction of Pendar the Midnight Goddess. My laughter died abruptly, cut off by the frozen knot twisting in my middle. "I want to hear him admit it. I want to see it in his face. I can't do that if he's dead."

  Braeton studied me, green eyes dark in the half-light of the cabin lamp. Finally, he glanced away, his brows furrowing. "You're sure that's the only reason?" His voice was rough. "I'm not blind, Bren." A cold smile curled across his mouth. "I've seen how you look for him in a crowded room."

  That knot of ice in my stomach expanded a few inches, making it difficult to draw a full breath. I stared at the man across from me. The truth hurt. After a moment I nodded. "You're right, I do... It's um... It's like having my own monster. The other monsters aren't quite so scary with him around. But don't worry. I don't need him." I managed to keep my voice strong. It wasn't entirely a lie. I had taken care myself at the veildfaste. I could take care of myself again.

  Braeton flashed a hard grin and peered through the shutters on his window. "We're almost there." He turned and gave me the usual pre-performance once-over, leaning across the space between us to secure a hairpin, tucking a fallen curl back into place behind my ear. "Ready?"

  The huge gates of the Reixham estate loomed ahead of us and the horseless began to slow.

  I inhaled deeply. Firmed my chin. Then nodded.

  Enrys brought the horseless to a stop. The next instant dogs began barking outside and footsteps sounded in the gravel of the drive, followed by a tap on the luxfenestre and a gruff, "Papers please."

  We were at the first checkpoint.

  40. Phase One

  13th of Dema, Continued

  Hell was cold. Freezing cold. I couldn't stop shaking. Letting the coatroom attendant take my cloak was the last thing I wanted, but it couldn't be helped. The only reason I had been wearing the thing in the first place was for the attention it got from the fashion and gossip dailies when Braeton swirled it off my shoulders in the grand front entrance, revealing the Midnight Goddess.

  I smiled and giggled and fawned, showing off in the sunburst of sylvocapture elements exploding in the doorway before Braeton took my hand and led me into the foyer.

  That was my job. I was Braeton's cloak, there to draw the eye, to distract the audience. I was there to make a hundred vipers see me and not Braeton.

  It was working. Stares and whispers met us as we swept down the length of a blue-lacquered front hall and into the circularri.

  The master of ceremonies announced us, and scores of faces turned to look, interest piqued by the name Anwythe. Then we started down a set of broad steps, and the interest turned into raised brows and smiles when they saw me with him.

  They were not pleasant smiles.

  Those smiles were full of invisible fangs.

  The mouse had entered the snake pit.

  Gripping Braeton's arm in vise-like fingers, I scanned the room.

  Potted palm trees stood in groups along the walls, and pleasant music drifted from a sonularri in the corner. Floor-to-ceiling windows were open to a balcony, and everything was aglow beneath a silvery forest of chandeliers that interlaced above our heads. It looked like something from a fairy tale, but I wasn't paying much attention to anything beyond where the exits were, who was there, how many guards and servants I could spot, and my glaring lack of weaponry – the only thing Braeton had allowed me to bring in was my infuser, and I felt naked in more ways than one.

  There were ten guards, positioned at doors and in corners. None of them looked at me twice, their eyes flicking over me then away, dismissing me just as Braeton had gambled they would.

  I kept looking. A whole host of familiar characters from Braeton's little black ledger were there, although notably none that we had left behind in San Domynne. Kallovedes and Tarrakarenne and Winn-Cryste were absent.

  We reached the lounge area near the dance floor, and Braeton brought me to a stop. His hand folded over mine, reassuringly steady. "Archway, top of the double stairs, far end of the room," he murmured.

  We were facing it. I nodded, smiling automatically.

  "That's the entrance to a hallway that leads to the second level. Reixham will come out of there in a few minutes to officially open the party."

  Which would be the beginning of Phase One. I kept my smile on my lips. "Lord Evarynn is coming this way," I said casually, leaning closer to Braeton as a beautiful dark-haired man in a sky-blue silk jacket and pants caught sight of us and began prowling in our direction. The family resemblance was uncanny, really. They were even wearing similar clothing – which was all part of Braeton's Plan.

  "Lexan! So good to see you, Cousin," Evarynn crooned, clasping hands with Braeton before pulling him into a less formal embrace. Then Evarynn glanced at me, his brilliant, augmented jade-green eyes sparkling with good humor – and perhaps a few too many glasses of wine. "And who is this divine being?"

  "Tarron, meet Miss Tarastrian. Miss Tarastrian, my cousin, Lord Evarynn."

  I dipped into a polite curtsy.

  Evarynn's smile was warm. "Enchanting."

  The music stopped suddenly, broken by a rumble of drums and the crash of a gong. Everyone turned expectantly to the doorway at the top of the curling double stairs, where a parade of gorgeous women bearing massive white feather fans – and wearing not much else – emerged and came strutting down the steps. The only 'clothing' any of them wore were swags of delicate golden chains that draped from gilded shackles around their throats, wrists, and ankles.

  I had to resist raising my hand to my own hair. Every one of the girls was copper-blonde and slender. Apparently Braeton hadn't been kidding when he said he was going to bait the snakes with something they liked. Although, perhaps it had only ever been one snake he was after.

  I swallowed, my gaze flying to the nearest wall before I could stop myself.

  There were only a few potted plants and a painting of a hunter riding to hounds; no gleam of silver hair.

  The music flared dramatically, then, a deep hum of strings and an exclamation of trumpets. A low blanket of false fog began pouring down the stairs, backlit in blue, billowing around the legs of four muscular men who came through the doorway, the poles of a throne-like sedan chair on their beefy shoulders.

  In the chair sat a short, soft, rather homely man with floppy mouse-blond hair. He watched his guests with an air of boredom as he was carried down one side of the stairs. When the litter-bearers got to the bottom, they stopped, then knelt to place the litter on its feet. Then two of them came around to the front of the chair, where they went down on all fours.

  With a
theatrical sigh, Reixham stood up, flipped the front of his long satin dinner jacket out of the way, stepped onto the backs of the men bowing in front of him, then hopped from there to the floor. He put his hands on his hips and glared around. "Well, what are you all looking at?" He shouted, a big grin creasing his face. "Isn't there a party going on?"

  There was a burst of laughter and a smattering of applause. The music returned, moving into a High Court girrandelle, and the feather girls began strolling about the lounge area with trays of food and alcohol, their fans now folded and trailing behind them like tails.

  Braeton offered his arm. "Care to dance?"

  I took a breath. You can do this. I tipped my head back and gave him my best Pretty Pendar smile. "Of course."

  With a polite bow to his cousin, Braeton drew me out onto the broad expanse of golden ballroom floor.

  For a moment, everything was deceptively peaceful. The clock was ticking down. Evarynn would cut in, and then Braeton would be gone, but for just a few more seconds it was only Braeton's gentle touch on my waist, and the familiar steps of a dance I knew.

  Braeton was quiet at first. Then, after a few turns, he bent to bring his mouth to my ear, his voice husky. "Thank you."

  My smile wasn't forced. "For what?"

  "For being here. For working so hard. I couldn't have done any of this without you... I just want you to know that."

  My smile slipped. I pulled back to look up at him. "That sounds like a goodbye," I whispered.

  A tiny smile tugged at his mouth. "It was meant as a complement."

  There was a short cough from just beyond him, and then Evarynn tapped him on the shoulder. "I'm so sorry to intrude, but you did say halfway through the first number."

  It was time.

  Braeton lifted a brow.

  I gave a subtle nod, then swallowed hard as he stepped back and handed me over to Evarynn. The last glimpse I had of him, he was making his way through the crowd.

  Phase Two had begun.

  Evarynn watched his cousin leave, then leaned down to ask, "So why is this dance worth paying off my debts to Lord Ghirais? Not that I mind, particularly, I'm just curious."

  "He does not say this." I grinned up at him, easily pulling up Pendar's Tettian accent. "He also does not say you are such a good dancer. You are much like him, I think."

  Evarynn pulled a wry face. "Oh, hardly. I'm the family embarrassment. Lexan is their gleaming hope on a shining hill, restored to them from the bonds of death. Can't take a step wrong, that one." He spun me through the last few turns of the dance, then looked around and guided me off the dance floor, head swiveling after a passing feather girl. Or, more specifically, her tray full of brightly colored liqueurs. "Say. Would you care for a drink?"

  "Oh yes, please." I managed another smile, glad Evarynn was leading me through the conversation lounge and toward the side of the ballroom that overlooked the drive. When he had bowed off to fetch refreshments, I kept going, taking up a position at one of the windows with a view of the parking yard.

  My presence in that window was the signal to Enrys and Longwater that Phase Two was in effect, but when I peered down at the drive, Enrys wasn't standing by the parking yard gate.

  A chill slithered down my spine. I made a pretense of opening my fan while I gave the fountain and carriage circle a more thorough search. He wasn't lurking anywhere else, either. Maybe he could see me anyway?

  Evarynn's voice brought my attention away from the window. "Here you are. Oh. By the way, Reixham was asking after you. Would you like me to perform the obligatory introductions?"

  I nearly dropped the slender glass of blue-tinted alcohol Evarynn had just handed me. My gaze flew to where Reixham stood talking to Lord and Lady Renoa. I hadn't seen Enrys yet. I couldn't leave the window. There wasn't any way to escape, and as if fate was laughing at me, that fleeting little glance was all it took to slam the trap all the way shut. Reixham was watching me from across the dance floor and instantly noticed my attention. My pulse lurched as he turned to face me full on, a glimmer of a smirk on his lips as he made his excuses and started toward me.

  Cursing inside my head, I looked away and tossed back my drink, downing all of it in one go before smiling at Evarynn. "It wouldn't be any trouble?"

  He shrugged. "Not particularly," he started to say, then frowned, his attention zeroing in on something behind me. "Who is that?"

  I followed the direction he was looking and went still, caught off guard. Enrys wasn't outside at all. He was only a few dozen meters away, ducking along the edge of the dance floor, quite obviously heading for me.

  Reixham was almost to the lounge, approaching from the opposite direction.

  I made a swift decision. "Please offer Lord Reixham my most sincere apologies," I said over my shoulder, already moving, trying to keep myself from breaking into a run as Enrys came around a last decorative potted palm ahead of me.

  He didn't waste any time. After a quick, clumsy pass at a bow for the sake of looking less conspicuous, he took my arm and pulled me in closer to the palm tree, his expression fierce. "He's loose!"

  My heart dove for the ground. "What are you talking about?"

  "That crafty bastard took the doors right off the horseless from the inside," he spat, glaring down at me. "This is your fault! I should have just done it when I had the chance. Should have ended it right there, and now Longwater's dead —"

  "What!?"

  Enrys glanced wildly around. "Where's Braeton? I need to find Braeton. Warn him. Longwater was setting up the trigger, but now everything is —"

  His words were cut short by a deep, dull thud outside. A thud that rumbled through the ground, reverberating in the air. Time seemed to slow, even as all the windows on the side of the room overlooking the drive suddenly disintegrated into a million tiny shards.

  Enrys' mud-brown eyes widened, his mouth falling open as both of us were lifted off our feet.

  That look of surprise on his face was the last thing I saw before the back of my head smacked something hard, and the world went dark.

  41. Burn it Down

  13th of Dema, Continued

  I was strangling. There was no air. No light. Something heavy was on my chest. I clawed at it, my fingers sliding through warm liquid.

  Enrys. The heavy thing was Enrys, lying on top of me. Crushing the breath out of me. All those training sessions with Arramy came straggling back: knees up, feet on the floor, brace. Shove.

  Enrys' body shifted an inch, and my lungs finally took in air. I got my hands flat between his chest and my front, braced my feet again, and this time managed to buck him far enough to the side that I was able to roll him the rest of the way off of me.

  Someone was moaning nearby, but all I could do was stare at Enrys. His head was resting at an unnatural angle, his face set in the same slack expression I had seen before the blast knocked him into me. His back and neck were a bloody, oozing mess.

  I looked down. There was blood splattered on my hands. On my arms. Soaking my dress. I blinked at it, then tried to wipe it on my skirt, only to find more blood. I shook my head. Tried to make myself think clearly. I didn't have time to be fussy. I lurched to my feet, grabbing at the potted palm as I swayed and bent double, the room spinning.

  Arramy was loose. I needed to find Braeton.

  I looked around, taking in the shredded furniture, the torn drapes, the haze of smoke drifting in the air. A sliver of blue was visible beneath one of the long couches: sky blue, like Evarynn's jacket. Other people were either beginning to stir or rising to help those who had been struck by flying glass. Guards in blue uniforms were running for the windows, rifles at their shoulders.

  There were no guards at the top of the stairs.

  Braeton would have gone up those stairs while I was dancing with Evarynn and Reixham was mingling with his guests. That had been the plan. At least, I thought it had. The plan had apparently changed.

  A hazy memory surfaced, of Enrys loading something into t
he horseless; a long metal canister, painted army grey. I had seen it when they threw Arramy in the bootleg box, but hadn't thought anything of it, more worried with getting away from the hotel than anything else. It had been an explosives box, the kind used for large incendiaries.

  Pain lanced through my head, and I dragging air through clenched teeth. Then I forced my feet to begin moving.

  No one stopped me as I made my way across the dance floor and started up the steps. By the time I reached the top, I was jogging, that awful, creeping sensation that I was being stalked settling between my shoulders.

  The doorway at the top of the stairs stood open, and the hallway beyond seemed empty. I paused to pull the two halves of the door closed, and in that split-second I caught sight of a guard heading for the stairs behind me. A helmet covered his head, but I would know that long, decisive stride anywhere. My heart stopped when the guard looked up and piercing grey eyes met mine before I brought the doors all the way shut.

  Panic shot through my stomach. There was no bolt on my side of the door, only two large handles and a lock-plate.

  I needed something to keep the door from opening. I needed it now.

  There was a bench along the wall. The bench had legs. I dragged it over to the doorway, lifted one end, and shoved one of the legs through the door handles, just before something heavy plowed into the other side of the panel hard enough to bow the whole thing inward. I jumped and clamped my hand over my mouth as the bench went skipping and skidding across the floor in a screech of wood on wood.

  "Bren! Wait!"

  Another percussion sounded from somewhere in the depths of the building, then another, rocking the walls, bringing plaster down from the ceiling, rolling through the floor. The hallway remained intact, but out in the ballroom there were new screams of "Fire!" and the sudden sound of warping metal and breaking glass.

  Arramy hit the door again. "BRENORRA!"