Red Hood's Revenge (32 page)

Roudette sniffed the air and smirked as she entered the tent. Talia and Faziya had clearly put the afternoon to good use. She winked at Talia, who stiffened and pretended to ignore her.

“Your knife is hundreds of years old,” Talia was saying to Muhazil. Her hair was loose and disheveled. Faziya lay sleeping on one of the mats behind her. “Its magic might have faded, or perhaps Zestan has found a way to mask her magic. The curse was cast by a Jinniyah, using Zestan’s power. She might have tainted whatever magical tracks you’re searching for.”

Muhazil turned to the seer. “Turz?”

“Possibly,” said Turz. She was an older woman who still looked strong enough to haul everything she owned halfway across the desert on her back without stopping to rest. Her black hair had the same reddish tinge Roudette had seen on some of the other Kha’iida women. “With the curse’s power broken, it’s hard to be certain. But I do not believe this spell was laid by a deev.”

Muhazil held the knife in his hand. He had polished the blade, or perhaps that glassy finish was an effect of its magic. “The law is clear. Had you brought proof of the deev, every tribe would join behind you to hunt her down.” He kissed the blade, then returned it to the sheath strapped over his heart.

Talia’s fists tightened. “You can’t—”

“Without proof, I can offer you only my own tribe,” Muhazil continued.

Talia stared. “What?”

“If fighting this Zestan-e-Jheg will end the Wild Hunt’s attacks on our people, we will give you whatever help we can.” Muhazil smiled. “Have you any hints as to where she might be?”

“Not yet,” Roudette said. “Remove this enchantment. When the Wild Hunt returns to the desert tonight, I will hunt them. They will give us Zestan.”

“You’re assuming they return to Zestan at the end of the night,” Snow said. “The Wild Hunt vanishes with the coming of dawn. You can’t track them beyond this world.”

Roudette bared her teeth. “I said nothing of following them. They’re weakest as dawn approaches. Let me pick off one of their number. I can drag him from the rest and force him to tell me what I need to know.” She yanked back her collar, exposing the silver mark. “Take back your curse, and we will have our proof.”

“While we wait here, trusting you to keep your word?” Talia asked. “I think not. Even if you manage to capture a hunter without getting yourself killed, I’m not about to release you into the desert without a leash.”

Roudette shrugged. She had expected as much. With time, she might have been able to sway Danielle, but Talia was far too careful.

“What about Queen Lakhim?” Danielle asked. “If you were to work with her to find Zestan—”

“I killed her son,” Talia said. “She would have me killed the moment I showed my face, both to avenge Jihab and to prevent me from being used against her. If Lakhim had the resources to find Zestan, she would have done so already.”

Roudette stood, straightening her cape. “Lakhim might not be able to find Zestan, but Rajil will help.”

“Rajil?” Talia repeated. “The same Rajil we robbed and humiliated?”

“Exactly.” She turned toward Snow. “All the raikhs have scrying pools that allow them to receive commands from the queen. Can you use your mirrors to reach Rajil’s pool?”

“That depends on what kind of protections they’ve raised, but I should be able to.” Snow narrowed her eyes. “What exactly are we going to tell her?”

“Not we.” Roudette smiled. “Me. Having captured Sleeping Beauty, I wish to negotiate directly with Zestan. My original contract was with Lakhim, but surely a great fairy can offer more than any human queen.”

Talia glanced down, as if to assure herself that Faziya was still sleeping. Lowering her voice, she said, “Zestan will want proof. She won’t even talk to you unless you have me.”

“So we go together,” said Roudette. “I deliver you to Zestan. In doing so, we lead the Kha’iida to Zestan’s doorstep. The Kha’iida spread the word, and all Arathea turns against her. We should alert Lakhim as well, so that her people can reinforce the Kha’iida.”

“What happens to you and Talia?” Danielle asked.

Roudette watched Talia closely. Talia knew what Roudette was proposing, and she knew the likely outcome.

“I won’t let Zestan use me against Arathea,” Talia said.

“Zestan could be anywhere,” Snow protested. “By the time the Kha’iida catch up—”

“I know.” Talia turned toward Muhazil. “Queen Lakhim owns an ebony stallion, a magical statue with the speed to travel anywhere in Arathea in the time it takes to speak its name. The horse could carry individual riders back and forth.”

“How do you know this?” Muhazil asked.

Talia snorted. “She stole it from my family.”

“There are Kha’iida camped less than a day’s ride from the palace,” said Muhazil. “Our knives bind us. I will have them send riders to Lakhim, urging her to come to hai’ir tel.”

Roudette bared her teeth. “By the time they arrive, they might find Talia and myself toasting our victory over the deev. Imagine the stories they’d tell.”

“More likely they’ll find your corpses,” said Snow. “It’s not just Zestan you have to fight. Who knows what guardians she’s gathered in addition to the Wild Hunt?”

“Can you think of another way to find Zestan?” Talia challenged them. Nobody responded.

“Tell me when you’re ready to contact the raikh.” Roudette tapped her heart in salute, then left the tent. The idea was planted; all that remained was for the others to work out the details.

This was the end of her path, then. At last she would shed the wolfskin and complete her grandmother’s work. Soon Zestan and the Wild Hunt would be destroyed, and she would finally be able to rest.

Talia would have made a fine ruler. It was a shame she would never have that chance.

 

It was decided that Snow should prepare her spells in the seer’s tent, which was already warded against detection. Kha’iida magic was new to her, and she spent far too much time examining the tent itself, trying to figure out how the wards were woven into the cloth.

As a point of pride, Snow was determined not to ask Turz. She ran her fingers over the square panels of the tent one by one. There were no runes, no patterns to force the magic into a given form. It was as if Turz had enchanted every individual strand and fiber.

She laughed when she finally figured it out. Turz hadn’t enchanted the tent. She had enchanted the
goat
, probably moments before it had been shorn. The hair from that goat had been blended and spun together with nonmagical hair, so that every panel carried a trace of magic. Such a spell couldn’t be broken without destroying the entire tent.

With that mystery solved, Snow set to work. The others watched in silence as she used a makeshift quill to inscribe tiny symbols on the largest of her mirrors. With no proper ink, she had fetched a cup of cold coffee. The watery symbols tended to run together, and they dried quickly in the heat, but the enchantment remained, visible as thin lines of gold.

“You said before that every scrying pool was linked back to Queen Lakhim’s palace.” Snow frowned and corrected one of the symbols. “What color is the rim of Lakhim’s pool?”

“What does that matter?” Talia stood with Faziya in the open front of the tent. Faziya hadn’t said a word since learning of their plans.

“Do you really want a lecture on the properties different materials have on spells of binding and protection, or the magical laws requiring such linked enchantments to be constructed of similar substances?” Snow gave her a wicked smile. “The principles of similarity have been around for at least six hundred years. A human sorcerer named Adgis of Millgason was the first to set them down in written form. He spent his life trying to quantify the exact degree of—”

“Gold, I think,” said Talia. “I can’t be certain. I didn’t stay there for very long, and I had more important things to worry about than palace decor.”

Snow grunted and added a new symbol to her mirror. “Paint, leaf, or solid gold?”

“How should I know?” Talia sighed. “Lakhim’s too full of herself to settle for mere paint.”

Snow returned to her preparations. Magical communication carried more risk than Talia or Danielle realized. An unguarded link could allow all manner of nastiness to attack those on either side. They had no idea how much magic Snow had cast into the mirrors they each wore in order to protect them from such attacks.

“Don’t do this,” said Faziya. She leaned against one of the tent poles for support. Her other hand held Talia’s. “I saw the hedge once, before you awoke. It used to be traditional to make a pilgrimage to the hedge before taking our vows. Zestan would cast you back into that prison, and I would never—”

“I don’t intend to give Zestan the chance,” said Talia. “She’ll believe I’m helpless, a prisoner to Roudette. I should be able to get close enough to strike.”

“What then?” Faziya demanded. “Even if you somehow manage to slay a deev, you think Zestan’s minions will simply surrender to you when she falls?”

“To
us
,” Talia corrected. “Roudette has fought her share of fairies.”

“Oh, forgive me. I forgot there would be
two
of you to face the Wild Hunt.” Faziya made no attempt to hide her anger. “Your plan is foolproof, oh wise one.”

Snow cleared her throat. “Could you argue quietly, please? Rajil’s pool is well protected. I’m trying to break through without killing everyone in the tent.”

“Sorry,” Talia said gruffly.

Snow tried to concentrate on her mirror. The bickering didn’t actually bother her. She and Talia had argued almost every day since they first met, at least until recently. Until she saved Faziya. Now Faziya had taken Snow’s place, whether it was the playful banter over meals or fighting over whether or not Faziya could accompany them to face Zestan.

Snow touched a flat packet on her belt. The leather pouch held four sharpened steel snowflakes Talia had commissioned for her several years ago.

She should be happy for Talia, the way Danielle clearly was. They could be facing a deev before the night was out. Why should it bother her if Talia had a quick fling before the battle? Especially considering the odds against any of them surviving that battle. Hadn’t Snow herself been flirting with that shepherd—what was his name again?—only hours before?

“Do you trust Roudette?” Danielle asked softly.

“No.” Talia smiled. “But she wants Zestan and the Hunt destroyed as badly as any of us.”

Snow jabbed her quill into the coffee and finished her spell. She rubbed her eyes, then studied the inscriptions. “I think I’ve established a bond. We should be able to—Uh-oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Danielle asked.

Snow dropped the mirror and jumped away as a gout of flame shot up from the glass, scorching the roof of the tent. “I think they noticed me. We should probably get outside.”

They obeyed with alacrity. The flame showed no sign of stopping. It had already burned through the top of the tent. Most of Turz’s protective magic was meant to guard against attacks from outside. That magic did little against an attack from within. Snow stepped back, peeking up from outside to see how high the flames rose.

It could have been worse. The tower of fire was barely taller than the trees by the pond. The Kha’iida were running toward her, many carrying buckets and bowls of water. Not that water would be of any help against this fire.

“So you want to play?” Snow muttered as she removed a second mirror from her armband. Turning her face away from the heat, she advanced slowly toward the flame. She flipped the mirror so the reflective side faced downward. “Fine. Let’s play.”

She darted forward, dropping the mirror onto the flames. It clinked onto the top of the other mirror, sandwiching the flames between them. For a moment, fire burst from between the mirrors, spreading out in all directions. An instant later, the fire died and black smoke began to fill the tent.

Talia shoved her to the ground. Before Snow could protest, Talia grabbed a bucket and poured water onto the flames that flickered on the bottom of Snow’s robe. Others hurried past to extinguish the rest of Turz’s tent.

“I’m sorry about that,” Snow said.

Turz walked through her tent, inspecting the damage. The fire had done little to the walls, but the panel overhead had a blackened hole the size of a dinner platter. “How did you stop the attack?”

Snow wiped sweat from her face, checking to make sure she still had her eyebrows. “I didn’t. I reflected it.” She frowned at the two mirrors. “There’s a decent chance we just set Rajil’s mansion on fire.”

Children ran toward the tent, only to be dragged back by the older Kha’iida. The dogs were in a frenzy, riling the rest of the animals. Danielle hurried away to help get them under control.

Roudette chuckled as she studied the tent. “So it’s fair to say we should have their attention?”

“I should say so. One way or another, they’re listening now.” Snow started to reach for the mirrors. “Everyone else might want to stand back.”

“You’re sure they won’t send more fire through?” Roudette asked.

“Nope,” said Snow. “But that was a powerful spell. I don’t
think
they could do it again so soon.”

“How comforting.” Roudette nodded for her to go ahead.

Snow removed the top mirror. The glass was cool to the touch, showing no sign of damage. She returned it to her armband and stepped aside, allowing Roudette to take her place.

Roudette picked up the remaining mirror. “I would speak to the raikh of Jahrasima.”

Snow closed her eyes, extending her vision to the mirror in Roudette’s hand. She could see Roudette staring down at her. The hairs on Snow’s arms and neck rose as a second presence stepped into view within the mirror. Snow found herself looking both at Roudette and at the jinniyah’s shadow from the raikh’s palace. The ceiling over the raikh’s scrying pool was blackened from the flames.