Citadel of the Sky (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 1) (4 page)

Tiana tried to focus on something other than the throbbing heartbeat of the phantasmagory. There was a rounded stool and table of white stone situated in the center of the room. Somebody sitting at the table would have their back to the door. On the table was a plain casket of yellow bone.

She set the lightstone on the table and pulled the box closer. Agitated, Kiar said, “Tiana, there isn’t a fiend down here. There’s nothing alive. Maybe we should think about this again.”

Tiana looked up, puzzled. “Can’t you hear it here? How can you ignore the phantasmagory when it’s so loud?”

Kiar stared at her, then inhaled through her teeth. Her eyes fluttered closed. When they opened, they were pale silver instead of Blood black, just as Tiana knew her own were. Lisette, standing between them, opened and then closed her mouth.

In a strained voice, Kiar said, “I hear it. Oh, Lord of Winter. There’s something here! What—” she jerked, her gaze traveling up to the ceiling of the room. “There’s— it’s—” She whirled around, her eyes brightening to a cloud-white sheen.

Behind her, Lisette gathered herself together and moved beside Kiar, touching her arm and murmuring familiar phrases.

Kiar was not as comfortable with the phantasmagory as Tiana. Lisette could draw her out just as she could draw Tiana out, soothe her waking nightmares before they became manifest, just as she soothed Tiana’s. But the panic of someone else lost in the phantasmagory created an undertow, treacherous and powerful, threatening to entangle Tiana within her own chaos. She closed her eyes to try and drown out the heartbeat and push the phantasmagory far away.

She could be normal if she tried. She was very proud of that. She had real friends, outside the court, outside her family. There were people who understood how much she wanted to be like them. The theater. At the theater, a special kind of magic happened. It was like the phantasmagory, but outside, where everyone could share it. She imagined the curtains closing on the phantasmagory.

“I’m here,” said Kiar. “I’m better. I’m sorry. I saw… it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t useful, just my own bad memories. I’m sorry. But you’re right. There’s something here. I’ve never fallen so easily. Tiana?”

Tiana realized Kiar was talking to her. “Oh. Don’t apologize. I understand. I’m going to open the box now.”

Kiar nodded, moving closer. The surface of the box was cool and just barely uneven. The bone jewelry boxes Tiana had were all ornamented with carvings and wire and glass beads. But this one was smooth and darkened with age, the size of both her hands put side by side. There was a clasp. She opened it.

The heartbeat in the phantasmagory stopped.

The box slipped out of fingers suddenly nerveless with dread, spilling the large opal pendant inside onto the table. Tiana stared at it in silent horror. She recognized it.

Kiar stepped back. “That’s the Royal Pendant. The King is supposed to be wearing it. How did it get down here?”

Tiana found her voice. “How did it
break
?” A deep, viridian flaw ran up one side of the opal and, within the flaw, the stone had shattered.

T
iana stared at the pendant
. In a faraway voice, she asked, “Kiar, do you know what time it is?”

Kiar frowned and looked inward. “Almost six. What are you going to do with the pendant?”

“Oh, no, already?” Ordinary life reasserted itself. Tiana snatched up the jewel. “You take the box, Kiar. We can ask Father about it tomorrow. But I have to get to the theater!”

Kiar picked up the bone box. “What? How can you think of the theater after a find like this?”

“It’s been here this long; it can wait until morning! I’m going to be late and I said I’d be there!”

Lisette said, “Tiana, nobody would blame you for staying home today.”

Tiana looked sideways at Lisette. “After a day like today, I’ve got to go.”

Lisette studied Tiana and then nodded. Kiar blew out her breath. “Well, let’s get out of here, before something collapses.”

On the catacombs level, Tiana started for the main gate of the Palace. Lisette said, “Tiana, you want to change clothes.”

“Zenith!” Tiana swore. She looked down at her filthy sundress. “I do. Yuck. I don’t have time!” But she ran up the wide, curving stone staircase all the same. She was out of breath by the time she made it to her rooms, but when Lisette showed up, she was wheezing. The guards, jogging behind her, were hardly winded.

“Take a rest, Lisette,” Tiana called as she dropped the pendant on a table and hurried into the dressing closet. She pulled a dusky rose walking gown over her head, and washed her face and feet. Then she peered at herself in the mirror. Her morning’s makeup was beyond salvaging, so she washed it off. She spread a drop of lavender oil through her hair with her fingers, followed it up with a comb. Then she sat down to lace up her city boots.

They were her favorite boots, made of tan calfskin with silken laces. There were nine pairs of eyelets up the front and six up the inside calf. She got her left front entirely laced before she realized that she’d missed an eyelet, which left the pairs askew. She took a deep breath and relaced. After a second time through, she paused and stared at the lacing, trying to decide if she’d done it correctly this time. She only counted eight pairs. Where had the ninth one gone?

It had to be close to seven. She didn’t have time to get confused about how her boots went on. She laced up the inside left eyelets and realized she was using the wrong set of laces. It couldn’t be helped. Right boot on.

She stared at her hands. They seemed like normal hands. Why couldn’t she do normal tasks? She pulled her fingers away from the laces and wiggled them. Ribbons of emanation appeared, and she stared, fascinated, as the tendrils tied the laces into knots.

The clock in Starset tolled. Tiana jumped and realized she’d been staring at her hands for far too long. Lisette appeared at the dressing room door. “Did you change your mind?”

“No! It’s these boots. They’re complicated.” Tiana put her hands over her face and then dropped them, steadfastly ignoring an old, familiar shame.

Lisette knelt in front of her. “Untie the knots.” Obediently, Tiana wiggled her fingers again, and an emanation pulled the knots apart. Then, swiftly, Lisette laced up both boots.

“It’s just been a long day,” Tiana said, watching Lisette’s hands fly.

Lisette stood up again when she was done. “You can run, if you’d like.”

Tiana hesitated. “No. I don’t want to leave you behind. Let’s just walk. Very quickly.”

They hurried through the Palace. There was an excellent sunset visible from the conservatory on the west wall, but the crimson rays streaking across the slopes of the mountain Sel Sevanth just made Tiana even more agitated. She was late, and she was very conscious of the two guards behind her. Her friends at the theater would not be comfortable. Maybe her escort could stay outside.

Emerging from the Palace, she was abruptly reminded that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. A cart nearby was selling stuffed pastries to some pilgrims, and they smelled heavenly. “Did you have lunch while I was sleeping, Lisette?”

Lisette shook her head. “Just a snack.”

Tiana revised her earlier decision. “That won’t do. Here, pick up some pastries for us, and meet me at the theater. I’ll go on ahead, so I’m not even later.”

Lisette looked grateful. “Yes, of course.”

Tiana was pleased she didn’t argue. “Make sure to get some bean sauce!” Then she held up her skirt and ran. There was a reason she loved her city boots, even if they were complicated to lace up.

Alone, she hurried down Brief Street and through the remnants of the Silk Market as it closed for the day. Grey bunting hung from many of the shops to honor the passing of the Crown Regent, but business carried on as usual. Many city folk recognized her and called out greetings, pulling their children and carts out of her way when they realized she was in a hurry. She smiled at them as she passed. A group of mounted nobles pulled their mounts to a halt, and their greetings were far cooler. She smiled at them as well. Lisette said it always helped to smile.

The Small-light District, south of the Silk Market and west of the Spice Market, was home to half a dozen theaters, but Tiana’s favorite was the Let It Spin. It was a new building, constructed in Tiana’s lifetime, and she’d watched every show put on its oval stage. The jointed dancer of bronze spun on its roof in the hot evening.

She’d been invited on backstage tours, and even once held a party for the luminaries of the Small-light District, but it was only this year that she’d actually been invited to help make the magic happen. Her favorite director was putting on a new show by a popular playwright, and the owner of the theater had invited Tiana to be a producer.

She was still learning what was involved with being a producer, so the owner of the theater handled most of the details. But she was having a grand time sharing her opinions on costumes and sets, and she was pleased to help offset the costs of a first-rate production.

She pushed open one of the double doors and slipped through the lobby into the theater. There was a rehearsal in progress. The director, Maidre, was standing before the stage, watching. Deneris, the playwright, and Baxer, the theater’s owner, were sitting halfway back, on the tier with the comfortable seats. She seated herself in the row behind them.

“Your Highness,” said Baxer, leaning back to greet her. He was younger than her uncle Yithiere, with thinning, dirty blond hair. “We didn’t expect to see you here today. And without your lady? However did you escape her?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “I had to come today. I’ve missed so much.” She shook her head. “Lisette will be along.”

Deneris tapped a finger against his mustache and said, “We’re all bereft by the loss of the Crown Regent. We’ve had no shows at all since the news, so that our players could honor him. Maidre insisted on today’s rehearsal.”

Tiana looked down, uncomfortable. “That’s perfectly understandable. How is the show going?” She tried to focus on the stage. It was lit by both a chandelier and a row of small lamps along its base, partially hidden behind a dark veil. “That’s not our star, is it?”

Deneris sounded tired. “No. That’s someone new. One of the little dramas you missed. Our girl Chenye has gone off to visit a sick sister in the hinterlands. Maidre was not pleased.”

Baxer chuckled. “Told Chenye she’d never star in a show again.” He always seemed to find the interactions between the luminaries of the Small-light District amusing.

Tiana watched the rehearsal for a few minutes. “She’s not very good, is she? I don’t know her.”

“Just fell off the vegetable cart last week,” said Baxer cheerfully. “In the right place at the right time. Maidre aims to show Chenye a thing or two.” Judging from her tone of voice, Maidre was just as unhappy with the new actress’s performance.

Tiana leaned back again, wondering if there’d need to be a costume change. The new actress had a farm girl tan that wouldn’t go with the ivory gown Tiana had paid for. She tapped her thumbs together, considering. Leaf-green, perhaps?

Someone sat down next to her. It wasn’t Lisette. After a moment, Tiana realized it was the vanishing woman from the phantasmagory. Her arms rested on the wooden panels that divided the comfortable seats, and she sat back, but her head was turned towards Tiana. Her eyes were black from rim to rim, and she had no expression.

Tiana squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. The woman sat there still when she opened her eyes. Her astonishingly long hair fell over the back of the seat and pooled on the floor behind her, and she was wearing a high-necked, plum-colored gown. Tiana leaned forward, and the woman’s head turned to follow her.

It was just stress. Sometimes, when the Blood was overstressed, they saw things that weren’t really there. Everyone knew it. She couldn’t control it, but she could control her reaction. She wanted to be different, and if she could make other people think she was different, that was practically the same thing.

So she set her jaw and said, “How are the theater modifications coming along?”

Baxer gave her a sidelong glance. “Reasonably well, although—” he shook his head.

“What? Please, tell me.”

He crooked a smile. “The lights are always a problem. Blaine talks about what we could do with some inscribed lights, the ones that don’t use fire. Like those at the Palace.”

Tiana sat back again. “Oh, is that all? The Magister of Niyhani brings us a new supply every year when he visits for Antecession. I’m sure I can get a few then. They wear out, you know.”

Baxer looked surprised. “Well… that’s very kind of you, Your Highness.”

Deneris frowned and said, “We don’t need them, Baxer. You shouldn’t—”

The door to the lobby opened and closed, and she heard the soft voice of Lisette telling the guards to wait there.

“No, no, it’s fine,” said Tiana hastily. “I can see the advantage. It’ll be splendid.”

Then Lisette sat down beside Tiana, in the seat occupied by the phantasmagory woman. “What will be splendid?” She passed Tiana a wrapped pastry.

It was still warm, but Tiana’s appetite fled at the sight of Lisette overlapping the ghost. There was the glint of bone at the intersection of flesh and ghost.

Baxer said, “The show, Your Ladyship. Her Highness’s assistance guarantees it will be like nothing the District has seen before.”

Suspiciously, Lisette said, “Do I need to sign another letter of credit? Producing a play is far more
expensive
than I expected.”

“No, no,” said Deneris, giving Baxer another frown. “No, we’re doing just fine.”

Tiana risked a look up. The ghost was still overlapping Lisette. She couldn’t bear it. She pushed the pastry back into Lisette’s hands. Then she extended a single finger of emanation and poked the ghost, trying to scrape the hallucination off Lisette. After a moment, a spark of white flared in the ghost’s eyes, and she vanished entirely.

Tiana released the emanation and blew out her breath. Only then did she realize that Baxer was carefully looking away, while Deneris was staring in open concern. Horror flooded through her as she realized what she’d done. She opened and closed her mouth, unable to even imagine any reasonable explanation other than what they’d seen with their own eyes: Tiana using her magic to poke Lisette. She lowered her gaze as tears filled her eyes, blinking rapidly to keep them from falling.

Lisette put her hand on Tiana’s own, a silent, comforting gesture. Deneris said kindly, “You’ve had a terrible week. I imagine the Crown Regent must have been like a second father to you.”

“Everybody’s very frightened ‘round these parts. Wondering where a fiend might appear next,” said Baxer.

“I assume by ‘round these parts,’ you mean in the taverns,” said Lisette, her voice cool.

Why does she disapprove of them so?
But the thought drowned under the ocean of grief that Deneris’s words had unveiled. Not her second father, but half her father, and he was gone, in a burst of strange and horrific violence. He would not be there tomorrow to hear about the fight between Maidre and her star. He was
gone.

The phantasmagory called her to go and weep among her memories, but she had never,
never,
gone into the phantasmagory while at the theater. But if she didn’t— The lump in her throat was growing larger. Lisette and the others were talking, but their words were just a buzz. The sobs were going to escape, no matter what she did. There was just no way to stop them and why should she? Tomas was gone. How could a play compete with that? How could an entire theater district?

She stood up. Lisette was standing, as well. “I have to leave,” Tiana explained, blinking rapidly, holding a hand in front of her mouth. “I do miss him, very much. I have to go.” Then she was running out of the theater.

No matter what, she had embarrassed herself. But Tomas mattered more. She’d find his killer, and maybe that would let the show go on.