The Sand Prince (33 page)

You are clever and strong beyond our imagining. I sincerely hope you have not spent too much time with him, he is a well-known corrupting influence. We couldn't bear it if anything had happened to you.

I've spoken to him, and you’re right, he's nothing like you at all. It’s hard to believe you are from the same place.
(This wasn't really true, but Scilla felt flattery was called for. What if the Voice changed its mind and left the beast here for her to deal with? She'd be stuck with his nasty remarks and condescending attitude forever!)
He's definitely some sort of criminal. But what must I do with him now? And what happens next?

Why, you send him home where he'll be dealt with. You've done enough, as far as this creature is concerned. And you—well, you will step through The Door to my city. Eriis awaits—if you still want to come.

It is all I want. I can have him back to you in a matter of a few days. I am ready to come to you right now.

And I would love to receive you, but there are preparations that must be made. For this to be done properly, what you must do is have someone take your place. This will be different than a short trip to the Veil, and you know how difficult that was. There must be someone there for you, someone you trust to make sure your passage is smooth, and someone to close The Door behind you. Someone who can help you ensure the creature does not somehow escape, when he is so close to being where he belongs. I believe you might know someone like that.

Scilla ran through the list of her fellow novices and immediately discounted them. They'd run to Brother Blue like their robes were on fire.
Someone fairly smart
, she thought.
Someone who'll wind up holding the bag, taking the blame, explaining where I've gone. Someone who deserves a good scare. Someone who has a big party coming up soon....

You’re right. I know just the person. It will take a little more time, though. We will be ready in ten days.

***

S
cilla couldn't help but notice that the demon had begun behaving differently.

He was contacting her from indoors. That was new, although she couldn't tell where and he was a master of evasion. He would appear in the candle flame with a glass in his hand, looking quite relaxed. And, she was afraid, he was starting to get a little too close to Lelet. A silly whore and a criminal—she shouldn't be surprised. He might be making a home for himself in this world, however temporarily, but all she could see was a creature who didn't belong here, poking and rubbing against the edges of what was real. She was glad their association was almost over.

"Did you do as I told you?" she asked.

He shrugged and looked off into the distance. "I didn't have to. A horrible tragedy occurred without my help. Imagine that. The girl is incapacitated and will remain indoors—I believe the human doctor said for another week. And the boy—your brother—they've sent him to your father, wherever he is."

Scilla wasn't sure if the demon had a hand in the accident or not. He could be painfully literal minded. If he hadn't physically pushed Lelet off the horse, he could easily say he hadn't caused the fall. And she'd long believed Rane would benefit from a trip to the country. He was better off.

"I am glad," the creature continued, "that she is not dead."

Scilla was not surprised to hear it.
Better cut this off at the root
, she thought.

"Why do you care? You aren't growing fond of her, are you? That would be a mistake, because she's a terrible, terrible person. As I've told you, she is the enemy. She deserves everything and worse. You think she'd be your friend? Or something more? You? She'd take one look at you and run screaming. She only likes rich, pretty boys. She's stupid, vain and—that hair! Pink was stupid, and now it’s white! It’s even worse. Like a dead animal! Like she lives in a cave like a...a lizard!"

The demon had heard this line of reasoning before and cut Scilla off. "If this underground reptile is your enemy why not let me kill her and have done with it? Why the petty attacks?" They both knew he'd never kill anyone, but he liked to needle Scilla.

"You are asking a lot of questions, demon. It's
still
none of your business. I have one more job for you."

He rolled his eyes. "Another mirror? Or would you like me to pour her perfume on the floor this time?"

"Demon, do not speak," Scilla snapped. She was satisfied to see he could not, although he clearly wanted to. "You have enjoyed your time here. You'll have lots of stories to tell the others, the ones that are all better than you." Seeing the rage building in his eyes, she quickly added, "And of course no matter what happens, you may not ever harm me." She decided baiting him may have been unwise, particularly since she was already in control.
Why does he make me want to be awful? It must be because he is awful himself.

"Here it is," she told him. "It’s simple. Get a horse and cart. Go to my house, use the back gate. Lure her to you and bring her to me. And then you go home."

He raised his brow and waited.

"Oh, you may speak," she added.

"Thank you, kind and benevolent child," he sneered.

"No need to be sarcastic."

"As you say."

She still didn't like the way he was looking at her. "Remember what I said about not harming me."

He sighed rather dramatically. "Our rules are not suggestions. I cannot physically harm you. You don't have to keep repeating it. Where am I supposed to get a horse? And what will prevent your evil, corrupt, not harmless at all sister enemy from running off?"

"Steal the cart and horse. Lelet has never been outside the city—she goes to parties and friend's houses. And whoring at the docks, probably. Get her off the main road and she won't dare run off. It should take you about three days. I will be waiting for you here. Don't be late and don't be seen. And definitely don't let anyone see your True Face."

"And if they do? Should I direct them to you for further inquiries?"

She'd had about enough. She hadn't caught a demon—which
no one else
was smart enough to do—to have it be rude to her. "Show my sister if you have to scare her. Anyone else, I guess you'll have to just kill them."

Now he looked concerned. "You would try to force me to murder a human person? Is that what you want your mark on this world to be?"

"No, demon, I'm not forcing you to do anything. Keep the face you're wearing now and no one has to get hurt. If not, it’s not my fault."

He raked his hands through his long hair. "Fine. Whatever happens, I won't be going around killing humans. I told you before, even you can't make me do that. I'll bring you your sister and this ridiculous enterprise will be over. But tell me this. If she's so popular—in grim contrast to you may I add—won't she be missed? A search party would be inconvenient."

Scilla nodded, deciding to overlook the insult. "Someone should overhear someone else saying they heard her talking about visiting friends on the coast. Start with the downstairs maid, she loves to gossip. Now, the Quarter Moons party is in a week. She never misses it. That's when you should take her."

He frowned. "She will no doubt want to know where I am taking her and for what purpose."

Scilla shrugged. "Tell her whatever you want. Just don't mention me."

"Why?"

"Because I said don't mention me! Don't mention me, or the Guardhouse. Other than that, I don't care. Oh, and don't look for me in the candle. When she sees me I want it to be a surprise."

"Is she to be harmed? Three days travel with a human person—I assume the rest of them like to talk as much as you do. If she thinks she is in danger she may try to run away despite what you say."

Scilla laughed. "If you think I talk a lot, you may long for the days of breaking glass and stealing shoes. I think you should just tell her you will deliver her safely to someone for a reason you haven't been told. Simple. And it has the benefit of being true." Scilla thought about the Voice. It
had
seemed simple. Lelet would take her place, take the blame, and she—Scilla—would finally be in Eriis where she belonged. And once she handed this low criminal back to the Voice, her real life with her new friends would begin.

"Ten more days, demon. Can you entertain yourself for that length of time?"

"I think you would have made a very fine demon. All this plotting is wasted on a young human. What will you do with your time when I am gone?"

Scilla leaned towards the flame and said, "I wouldn't be in such a hurry to get home if I were you. They have big plans for you, back on Eriis." She knew she shouldn't tip her hand, but it felt glorious to get in the final word.

"They?" the demon repeated, frowning suspiciously. It set down its drink. "Who exactly is ‘they’?"

"Ten days. And then it’s over." She blew the candle out.

––––––––

"Why must you be so cruel?" Gwenyth asked, dry eyed for once. She held the torn book of children's tales to her breast. "This is all I had and now it's ruined."

The Duke gently took the pages out of her hand. "I thought this was a gift from Edward. I would never have... I'll make this right, Gwenyth, please don't cry."

She looked away. "I'm done crying."

-The Claiming of the Duke, pg 157

Malloy Dos Capeheart, Little Gorda Press (out of print)

––––––––

M
istra

100 years after the War of the Door, Mistran calendar

20 years later, Eriisai calendar

va’Everly family residence

In the late afternoon, May liked to take her tea and knitting into the front room, and open the heavy silk curtains. They were silk, the couch cushions were silk, the rugs beneath her feet, the balls and skeins of yarn were all silk, all sent back from the farm and from Father. Right now she was working on a blue and copper scarf Rane would need when it turned cold in the countryside. She worried more about him than her other siblings—Scilla seemed happy enough, although May couldn't imagine why—it was like being in a prison, but at least Scil felt useful, that was something, surely. And Pol, well, he thought his impending move to the farms was a big secret. She knew he was afraid she'd fall to pieces without him at home, but in fact it was a feeling of relief she could barely put into words. She ran the house, of course, but only because it was a job no one else wanted. Pol would follow Rane to work with their father, and they'd both be off her hands, Scilla was firmly in place at the Guardhouse—and that left Lelet. Well, Lelly was always looking around for an adventure or something to do, maybe next it would be her turn to run a household, and she'd find out wine bottles don't magically disappear when you've finished them, and they don't appear out of thin air, either. She'd seemed to have finally tired of sneaking Billah in and out of her window, which was good news. No, Billah simply wouldn't do, and Lelet was smart enough at least to figure that out, her next project would be finding Lelly someone suitable. Once Lel got back from whatever jaunt she was off to on the coast, they'd talk about her future. And once she no longer had to organize a household, she thought she might let some of the help go, as well, and close up some of this big house.

Something flickered in the corner of her eye. She held still and was rewarded by the appearance of the ghost. She'd seen it several times over the last few weeks, but only a hand or a shoulder and the back of a head with long dark hair, or a foot disappearing into a corner. It seemed to like the shadows. This was the first time she'd gotten a good look at it—at him. He glanced at her (she carefully looked down at her knitting) and returned a candlestick to the mantle. She looked up and said, "You must have been an extraordinarily good looking young man, when you were alive."

The ghost turned and realized she was talking to him, and to her surprise, he went absolutely pale. She hadn't thought the dead could react in such a human way, but she'd never startled a spirit before. She had obviously upset him, the poor thing looked ready to bolt.

"Please forgive me, that was rude. Perhaps you don't like to talk about your former existence. And here I am mentioning it again! I'm not normally such a dolt. Please, you look positively rattled. Do come over here and sit down."

The ghost of the young man said, "You can see me? Of course you can, you just said so." He put her basket of brightly colored yarn on the floor and sat on the ottoman, the worn leather creaking under his weight. He was surprisingly solid, for a visitation. "These are beautiful," he said. He picked out a ball of bright red silk and held it up to the light.

"It matches your eyes," said May. "Do all ghosts have red eyes? No, there I am again. Ignore me. Would you like some tea? Do ghosts eat or drink at all? Oh, another foolish question. I'm full of them today."

"No tea, thank you. I don't need to eat or drink, of course. Being a ghost. As you said."

"No tea, well, something stronger? I fear I gave you a start."

He hesitated, "I wouldn't say no, honestly."

She poured him a thimble sized glass of some deep brown liquid, one of an assortment on the little cart in the corner. "Some port, I think," she told him, "Pol likes it. Personally I find it too sweet." She watched his face, moving from suspicion to pleasure as he took a sip. "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable. I've never met a ghost before."

"It’s fine," he said, looking at the rainbow in the basket of yarn. "It’s just difficult for me to think about what came before this."

She nodded. That seemed reasonable for someone in his condition. Perhaps he had died tragically, after all, who would want to dwell on that? "I'm glad I saw you today. I've been meaning to talk to you."

He surprised her again by laughing. He had a nice laugh. She wondered if he'd laughed a lot, when he was alive. He tossed the ball of yarn back into the basket. "Of course. Is there anyone in this house who
hasn't
seen me?"

May thought for a moment. "Well, I don't believe Lelly has, I'm pretty sure you're dramatic enough for a fit of hysterics out of her, at least. And Rane, well, who knows what he sees?"