Citadel of the Sky (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 1) (13 page)

“Another time then, Your Highness. Enjoy the charm.” He bowed and slipped away as Cathay took Tiana’s hand.

“Give me that,” she snapped and plucked the scroll from Cathay’s other hand. “’Stroll around the room with the loveliest person present.’” She stared suspiciously at the calligraphy. “Do you write these yourself?”

“Stormy weather! You wound me.” He tucked her hand into his arm and grinned at her, his black eyes dancing. Her irritation ebbed away. “Each scroll is written by the Royal Calligrapher himself. Though I must admit, I do lie sometimes.”

“Yes? Only sometimes?” She tucked the scroll into her wristlet.

He tweaked the tip of her nose. “You make it hard to confess, you know. I was actually quite happy to interrupt. I’ve heard he’s a terrible actor, stormy.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said. She couldn’t help herself. It was like his voice wove a spell. He’d only started flirting with her recently. Before the last year or so, he’d just been her handsome older cousin, more interested in swords and horses than her, more involved with his Regent and his uncles and even Jerya, who was his own age, than with his younger cousins. But she’d watched him focus his interest on Jerya, on Iriss, on a noble girl or two, then on Lisette, all with a single-minded intensity.

So, she hadn’t been surprised exactly, when he turned his attention to her. Not surprised, but definitely unprepared. His attention was as genuine and as warming as the summer sun. She knew it wouldn’t last, but the temptation to bask in it was so strong. And here, compared to all the other boys—well, he was her own kind. He knew the phantasmagory; he practiced the family magic. He was intimately aware of the fate that seemed to await them all, and he wouldn’t reject her because of it, the way Tiana’s mother had rejected her husband and children.

No. He’ll just find something else that interests him more.
She wished her head would stop hurting, though. Each time he smiled it jarred her, and she knew that made no sense.

Cathay continued abusing her previous suitor. “Oh, yes. He botches his lines. Dozes when he’s offstage.” Sudden inspiration seemed to strike Cathay. “And he can’t sing.” He shook his head. “It’s very depressing. I’ve also heard that he’s a coward….”

“But you lie sometimes,” Tiana reminded him sweetly.

He spun her around to face him. “Truth of the mountain, I swear!”

She looked at him skeptically. His face was empty of all guile, as sweet and honest as a monk’s, and he held the earnest expression for a long moment.

“You should be an actor yourself!” she said, laughing, and pushed him away.

He caught her hands as she pushed and pulled her close to him. “Would you like that? I’ll do it, but only if you direct me.” Tiana’s stomach flip-flopped.

“Hey, Cathay. Hey, time to let Tiana go, Cathay,” It was Yevonne. “Gisen has an instruction for you. Come see.”

Cathay made a face and said, “Little girls should go to bed early, don’t you think, Tiana?”

Tiana looked to the wall, where Lisette and Gisen were standing. Gisen waved a piece of paper imperiously.

Yevonne bumped her little hip against him. “Come tell Gisen that. Come on. Look at that face. You don’t want to break her heart, do you?”

Cathay said, “Oh, all right.” He pointed a finger at Tiana. “You be good,” and then followed Yevonne over to Gisen.

Tiana looked around. Jerya was nowhere to be seen, and the Chancellor was talking to one of the ambassadors. She spotted Seandri loitering in a corner with his Regent and had just started that direction when Twist stepped into existence beside her. He had a slip of paper.

“Delicious,” he said. “I love macaroons.”

Tiana blinked. “They’re pastry, not macaroons!”

Twist said cheerfully, “Oops! Here.” He passed her the scroll. There was nothing on it.

“It’s blank! Apparently because you found it in a macaroon!” Her head pounded. She shook her head and looked over her shoulder. “Is somebody calling for me? I thought I heard my name.” But nobody seemed to be looking for her. Nervously, she scanned the room, wondering if the phantasmagory was leaking again.

The Royal Wizard shook his head. “Forget my own name next.” He touched a manicured fingernail to the scrap of paper, muttered something, and words bloomed across it.

“Why does
everybody
cheat at the cookie game?” She stared at Twist fiercely, rather than reading the slip.

Twist smiled at her. “Because you make it so much fun.” She blushed, and again her irritation melted away. Her head hurt. She ignored it.

She read the scroll. “’Advise somebody consorting with fiends.’ What? I am
not
consorting with fiends!” But she wondered again about the pendant she’d found.

Suddenly serious, Twist said, “I inspected the monk’s sword before, and it seemed quite ordinary. But I think I should inspect it again.”

Tiana did
not
want to think about the sword, of all things. “Why?”

“Because it seems to be leaving—” Twist paused to pluck invisible cobwebs out of her hair, “—sticky fingerprints—” he brushed his finger under her left eye, “—all over you.” Her headache magnified. “Or something is.”

“Well, fine,” she muttered, moving away. “Later.” Her head was down, so inevitably, she collided with somebody.

“My apologies,” said an intense, low voice. It was another vaguely familiar face, high cheekbones and beautiful eyes, a neatly trimmed goatee. This time she didn’t recall his name.

“Should have looked where I was going,” she said. “Did I hurt you?”

“’The Blood walks where it pleases,’” quoted the young man, and Tiana started.

“Most people don’t say that to us. Not to our faces, anyhow.”

“I search for truth, Princess Tiana.” He didn’t smile, and his gaze was intense.

“How can you recognize it when you see it?” she asked, with more than a touch of irritation. He fell into step beside her.

“It’s in the moments.” She could feel his eyes on her. “You’ve had several moments recently, I think.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You were attacked in the city. That was a moment; what you felt then was truth. And today, with the monk and the sword. How did that feel?” He was too close, leaning in with an avid curiosity. She recoiled.

“Have you no manners at all? How did you get in here?”

He stood quietly. “I was invited, Your Highness. I am Rayle Orthoza, from Dalein. And as I said, I seek truth. Manners are a veil that often hide it.”

Tiana remembered him now. He was a poet. Suddenly, poetry seemed like the worst form of obscenity.

She fought down a snarl. “Go away. Don’t come back.” He paled, but bowed and retreated.

Tiana pressed her fingers against her temples. The room felt too crowded. She had the hysterical desire to sweep everyone away from her. It was ludicrous.

Lisette appeared at her elbow. “You’re not having a good time. Would you like to go outside and get some fresh air?”

Tiana bit her knuckle hard, and it still didn’t cut through the pain in her head. She was certain someone was whispering her name. “No,” she said. “No. This isn’t fun. I want to go to bed. Things will be better tomorrow.”

E
ventually
, Tiana fell into a restless, painful sleep.

After a time of darkness, Treyl and his companions emerged from the shadows, but the sword was in her hand. She swung at her attackers and they fell away, shattered by the power of the sword. She knew its name: Jinriki the Darkener. More shadowy enemies rose to threaten her, and the sword Jinriki hungered to slay them, thirsted to take vengeance on those who had wronged her.

She opened her hand, let the sword tumble out of it and turned to gather the shadows to herself with her own power: phantasmagory dreams. She didn’t like swords. They weren’t hers, pointed pieces of metal, shining, dangerous things. She didn’t need them to be dangerous. Only Shanasee had the capacity to be more dangerous than she. Tiana was gifted. She was special. But she was the one who wasn’t going to go crazy. She was the one who was going to escape.

From darkness, walls rose around her and Jinriki the Darkener was in her hand again, slicing through walls of metal and stone and betrayal. She was caged and the sword could free her, the sword could bring her out of the darkness, to freedom and vengeance on those who had imprisoned her.

Phantasmagory dreams, but walls were Kiar’s quirk, Kiar’s fear. The cage was in herself, in her own blood. A woman watched her curiously, her hair a river, her eyes the night. Tiana opened her hand, let the sword tumble out of it, but it didn’t fall away. The quillon and the guard curved around her hand, clasping itself to her palm. She swung her hand and the blade cut an arc from the darkness. A crescent of crimson, a scarlet tear, and she panicked, shaking her hand, pushing at the guard with her other hand. Part of the quillon twisted to catch her other hand, holding them together, curling her fingers around the handle. She was trapped, imprisoned by a sword in her hand. She shrieked. “No! I don’t want the sword! I don’t want it! That isn’t me! I won’t use it!”

An unfamiliar voice said, “You will
learn
.”

Fear spiked down her spine and she reached out with her emanation, her third hand, and ripped herself free of the weapon. Her hands ran red with her own blood now, as the sword bit down rather than release her. But it could not hold on to something that dissolved when caught, and the sword flew away from her. It vanished into a darkness that opened silver eyes. The silver eyes grew larger, larger, and became the morning light streaming through her window.

Tiana woke up ravenous. She sat up, an echo of the earlier headache still lingering, and looked at her hands. They were uninjured. Her shoulder was still sore and stiff from two days ago, though. She thought about how nice it was to have physical reminders of what was real and what wasn’t.

She stood up and immediately sat down again, feeling dizzy and uncoordinated. Deep breaths made her head spin and her headache intensify and her palms hurt. She checked her hands again to make sure they weren’t injured.
Maybe I was clenching my nails into my palms.
But there were no marks at all.

She heard sounds in the parlor, and a moment of listening identified the sounds of Lisette, Cathay, and dishes.
Breakfast.
She ignored the dizziness and headache, and went to find clothing that wouldn’t distract Cathay while she devoured the food.

When she emerged from her bedroom, Lisette looked up and smiled. “Hungry? I had breakfast brought in this morning.”

Tiana said, “Starving. Not just breakfast, I see.” She made a face at Cathay. She picked up the hem of her dressing gown as she stalked across the sitting room, until the dizziness overwhelmed her and she stumbled. Cathay sprang to his feet and caught her arm and waist.

“Let me help you, stormy. Are you feeling better? I was worried when you left so suddenly. Chancellor Hayle and I both had stern words with that fellow who drove you off. Tasteless bastard.”

Decorously, Cathay placed her in the seat he’d just vacated and whisked the plate of bread crumbs there away. Lisette put a new plate in front of her and Tiana helped herself from the tray of fruit and bread and ham in the center of the table.

“Thank you,” she remembered to say, after a moment. She wondered if he’d actually chastised the poet.

Cathay laughed and watched her eat, a smile lingering on his face. She wondered what he and Lisette had been talking about before she woke up.

“I dreamt about the sword,” Tiana said, waving a spoon at the shelf where Jinriki rested. It had split the scabbard the Chancellor found for her when she insisted on keeping it; the flanges near the handle were too wide.

Cathay considered and then said, “I have to say that if you were going to dream about recent events, that’s almost the best of the options.” He smirked. “Almost.”

Tiana frowned. “Not really. Well, maybe for you.”

Cathay stole a covetous glance at the sword. “It’s a magnificent thing. I can see that from here.”

Tiana narrowed her eyes, suddenly not certain Cathay was there to visit
her.
His fixation on swords was almost as renowned as his womanizing. She jabbed her spoon into her melon half. “It’s a horrible thing. It even looks evil. It has these spiky bits that look like they’re just as likely to cut me as anyone on the other end. I can’t imagine who would use it or why that old man was carrying it around.

**Foolish child.**

Cathay stood up. “May I look at it?” Tiana waved her spoon at the shelf again, her mouth full, and Cathay went to pick it up. He pulled the ruined scabbard off and held the quillons up to eye level. Tiana watched anxiously, but the crosspieces did not curve around to embrace Cathay’s hand.

**He may look.**

“Very ornamental. Some kind of lord’s or general’s weapon, probably. Maybe from the Soosing Coast. It’s very old.” He extended his arm and moved the blade in a tight maneuver. “Nicer to handle than I expected.” Cathay gave her a bright smile. “What will you do with it?”

Tiana shrugged again. “It’ll give me nightmares. Do you want it?”

**I am not his.**

Cathay said, “I’d be honored, stormy.” He swished it again, looking smug.

**No.**

Cathay grunted suddenly, his eyes widening. Blood welled from the spaces between his fingers on the hand holding the sword. Then, his eyes turned pale as his attention focused inward. He lifted his other hand to grip higher on the handle.

“Cathay!” Tiana sprang to his side, food forgotten. Cathay’s knuckles were white under the blood and his teeth were gritted. His eyes flickered between black and white, and Tiana felt the jolt of his dance around the phantasmagory.

“Cathay,” she cried again and wrapped her own hands around his, trying to pull the sword from his grip. The red stain on the blade flared and pulsed, and Tiana felt warmth on her own hands again. She remembered the quillon of the sword moving in her dream and she slid her own hands up to the guard, tugging at the sword. Cathay groaned and a small cat eidolon scratched at Tiana’s leg, clawing its way up her. The guard moved in her hand, curving ever so slightly around her fingers.

**Mine.**

“Let go of him!” Tiana shrieked and sent her emanations through her hands, a breaking force to snap the quillons, the hilt, even the blade. And yet, nothing broke. There was a dull boom around them. Cathay’s eidolon, eyes glowing white, leapt to the top of her head and raked at her face. She howled and flung it away.

Lisette put her hand on Cathay’s shoulder and said, “Yield,” right in his ear.

And suddenly, the tension holding the sword away from Tiana was released. It flipped around, into her hands, the curving guard snaking around her wrists to guide its movement. Once it was firmly nestled against her palms, the guard released her, becoming stiff metal once again. She stared at it and then flung it away from her. She sent the emanations after it, pinning it against the wall, holding it there with one hand. Then she clapped a hand to her scratched face and stared at Cathay.

He was on his knees, his hands hanging loosely at his side, his eyes blank and pale. Lisette transferred her hand from his back to his neck and glanced up at Tiana. Droplets of blood dripped from his hands to pool on the floor and Lisette called, “Misa, we need bandages.”

From the corner of her eye, Tiana saw Slater look in and then vanish again. She dropped to her knees before Cathay and turned over one of his hands. The bloody palm and fingers were raggedly torn, as if he’d been bitten repeatedly by a savage animal. Lisette leaned over and began whispering in Cathay’s ear. His head turned towards her and he said, “Pain, pulling me apart. It’s only a sword?”

“No,” Tiana whispered. “I’m sorry. I thought it was just a nightmare.”

**Foolish, dreaming child. You were given to me. My vengeance.**

Tiana clutched her aching head and shouted, “Shut up! I’m not going to listen to voices in my head! So just shut up.” She looked down at Lisette’s concerned face and shook her head. “I’m not going to listen. Don’t worry.”

“Look at his hands, Tiana,” Lisette said. “What happened? What did you dream?”

Misa appeared with a basket of linen strips, and Tiana moved so that her maid could bandage Cathay’s hands. “That it could move. That it could talk.”

Lisette said, “I’ve never seen Cathay go into the phantasmagory so quickly.” She stroked his hair.

He turned his head blindly towards Lisette and muttered, “Knives in my head.”

**He was significantly easier to penetrate than you were. Mewling little kitten. Do you know what he wants to do to you?**
The voice she wasn’t listening to sounded smug.

“I remember now. It’s a cursed sword,” said Tiana blithely. “Twist said something about fiends last night. I forgot. We should take it to Kiar and see what she can see.” She crouched down in front of Cathay and placed her palms on his face. “Come out, Cathay. Your hands will heal. We must deal with the curse on this blade.”

Cathay groaned and pulled a bandaged hand away from the maid, raising it to Tiana’s face. The maid began to bandage the other one, and Lisette went to change out of another set of bloodstained clothes. Cathay said, “Why are you so hard to reach, Tiana?” His fingers touched the scratch on her face. “What happened?”

His eyes were still pale; he was partially in the phantasmagory. From the feel of the undertow, he was close to the surface. As he was, he’d be almost normal, almost predictable. Almost a man. Most of the Blood wore the shape of their eidolons in the phantasmagory. Kiar and Jerya told Tiana she was a flame, but she always seemed like herself to her.

“Come on, Cathay. You’ll see, just a scratch. Stupid, cursed sword. Come up. Look at me.” His eyes darkened as he returned to himself, and he looked at her. Suddenly, the same nearness she’d been using to coax him out of the phantasmagory sent a rush of warmth through her belly. She stood up. His dark gaze followed her as he waited for the maid to finish wrapping bandages around his other hand.

**Him? Oh, come now. There’s no substance to him.**

Tiana muttered, “It’s a Blood thing,” and then shook her head. She was ignoring the sardonic voice that came with the sword. She wished it out of her head.

“It’s a ‘you’ thing,” said Cathay, standing up at last, his eyes still intense.

Tiana backed away. “I have to go get dressed.” She felt his eyes on her until she closed her dressing room door. She wondered if doors would keep the voice out, too.

**No.**

Tiana kicked over her chair. “Shut up! Get out! Go away! Good Lord! I wish he wouldn’t look at me like that.”

Dispassionately, the voice said,
**I see through your eyes.**

She wondered what Cathay saw when he looked at her, and in wondering, went to the mirror. Her hair badly needed brushing, and a spot was developing on her left cheekbone.

**Very pretty. Frail. Why you? This power you hold me with? It is very strange. It tastes… familiar.**

Tiana yanked away the emanation she’d been pinning the sword to the wall with and heard it clatter in the other room. Then she turned her back on the mirror and pulled on some clothes, something good enough to get her to Kiar’s door, but not much further than that.

Then she took a deep breath, realized her headache was gone, and returned to the parlor. Lisette had already emerged, rather better attired. Cathay was sitting in a chair again, staring at his bandaged hands.

Tiana said, “Kiar did return yesterday, as expected, yes?” She went to the tray of food, not looking at Cathay, and picked up a roll. Lisette always knew everything.

Lisette said, “Yes, very late. She met with Jerya and Twist and then went straight to bed.”

Tiana said, “Oops. Wasn’t she trying to avoid Twist?”

Lisette seemed amused. “Yes. He ambushed her in Jerya’s sitting room and told her it was lesson time.”

Tiana was horrified. “In the middle of the night?”

Lisette just shrugged and smiled, and Tiana shook her head. After she swallowed the last of the roll, she went to the wall where the sword lay and pushed it with her foot.

**I’m much more useful in your hand.**
She thought she could see it quivering.

“You bite,” she told it. “I’m not holding you in my hand.” She flexed her fingers over the sword and hoisted it magically again, carrying it sideways in front of her.

Down the hall, Kiar opened her door at Tiana’s knock. She stared at the sword floating in front of Tiana and took a step back into her room. “Oh, no, not another sky fiend.”