The Lyre Thief Page 32

  “None of the gods are much use to humanity when it gets down to it,” he said. “But I didn’t know then what I know now. Adrina rescued me from the war council and I became her servant, and I would have walked over hot coals and broken glass in bare feet to do her bidding.”

  Mica’s tale fascinated Rakaia. Like every one of Adrina’s sisters, she knew somehow Hablet’s eldest daughter had managed to wed the crown prince of Karien and the High Prince of Hythria’s heir, all within a matter of months. The details of how it came about remained vague. One of her regrets about swapping places with Charisee was that she would never have the opportunity to ask Adrina what happened.

  “Mind you, I thought Cratyn was a proud and noble prince too, and he turned out to be a real weasel. Anyway, after the first serious battle, Adrina’s captain was killed—”

  “Tristan,” Rakaia cut in, still able to recall the sadness she’d felt on learning of his death. She was no older than Mica was when they sent him off to war when the news reached Talabar about her bastard half-brother’s death. “He was father’s eldest bastard. I remember him. Everyone said if Papa . . . Hablet . . . didn’t sire a legitimate son, he’d make Tristan his heir one day.”

  “His death changed Adrina,” Mica said. “She was . . . I want to say angry, but that seems too insignificant a word. She was beyond anger. That very night she left the Karien war camp with me and her servant, Tamylan. We crossed into Medalon under cover of darkness, rode straight across the battlefield while they were still burning the dead . . . and ran smack bang into Damin Wolfblade and Tarja Tenragan.”

  “And that’s when he ordered you killed?”

  “No. He took Adrina and Tamylan prisoner and sent me back to wait on Sister Mahina. But it wasn’t long after that I met Dace and Kali.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Dacendaran and Kalianah.”

  She’d believed every word he’d told her so far, but he was wandering into the realms of fantasy. “Really? You met the God of Thieves and the Goddess of Love?”

  “Dace took it upon himself to save me from Xaphista. Kalianah hangs around with him a lot. I’m not sure why. Maybe because they both prefer to appear to mortals as children . . . I don’t know. I just know that Dace very quickly became the best friend I’d ever had and spent all his time trying to get me to steal something.”

  Rakaia wasn’t sure what to believe. It seemed easier to just play along and pretend it was real. “Did you?”

  “Eventually. I stole a bird’s nest, if you can believe it. He convinced me the eggs wouldn’t survive unless we took the nest away from where the mother bird had built it.”

  “And that’s it . . . now you’re a follower of Dacendaran?”

  “It doesn’t take much.”

  “But what about Adrina? How did she go from prisoner of war to High Princess of Hythria?”

  “I’m not even sure of that myself,” Mica admitted. “When we first arrived in Medalon, Adrina didn’t have a good word to say about Damin Wolfblade, and he looked at her like she was infected with the plague. A couple of months later and they can’t keep their hands off one another. I snuck up on them once, in the stables, you know. They were kissing each other like there was nobody else in the world, in between telling one another how much each one didn’t like the other.”

  Rakaia hadn’t heard this version of the story. Not for a moment did she imagine Adrina and Damin had married all those years ago because they were in love. That just didn’t happen to people in their position. “We were told the demon child made them get married because it meant my father couldn’t invade Hythria through Krakandar Province via Medalon. Once his daughter was married to the warlord of Krakandar, he was forced to withdraw.”

  Mica shrugged. “I don’t know the politics behind it. I just know that when R’shiel suggested it, nobody objected too loudly.”

  “But Adrina was still married to Cratyn.”

  “Not for long. The demon child killed him.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know that.”

  He nodded. “After that, things got a bit muddled. I think Medalon had surrendered to Karien by then and there was an army marching down on top of us, and we had the army Cratyn brought with him being held prisoner. Damin wanted to put them to the sword, I think, but R’shiel said it would be a bad idea. She came up with the idea of magically coercing them to return home, to avoid any further bloodshed. I think she had the power to make it happen herself, but the coercions she can work don’t hold for long. The Song of Gimlorie, however . . .”

  “Gods . . . I thought that story about the Song of Gimlorie was a fairy tale . . .” Even as she said the words, she realized how foolish they were, how often she had seen Mica do exactly that—coerce people into doing exactly what he wanted when he sang to them.

  His wild tale didn’t seem anywhere near so wild all of a sudden.

  Mica shook his head. “It’s real. And the effects can last for years . . . sometimes a lifetime. But you have to learn the songs from Gimlorie himself. The main problem with his coercion, though, is that most people can resist it if they know it’s happening to them. R’shiel knew she could never get close enough to any of the Karien soldiers to sing the song without one of them putting a blade through her, but they wouldn’t be suspicious of a child.”

  “So she had Gimlorie teach it to you . . .”

  He nodded. “She knew the danger. She had Jaymes there to keep me anchored so I didn’t get lost in the song, and I did what she wanted. I sent the army back, and no more lives were lost that day.”

  Any other story like this might end there, with a relatively happy ending, but Rakaia knew that all of this had been preamble to the real story of how Mica came to be here.

  “Then what happened?”

  “I came to Hythria with Damin Wolfblade, and Adrina, and the demon child.”

  “I still don’t understand why Damin sentenced you to death.”

  “Well, that was because while the demon child was busy saving Medalon from the Kariens, she kind of forgot about what learning the Song of Gimlorie might do to me. She also forgot, I think, that Xaphista was still around and quite desperate to get rid of the demon child before the demon child got rid of him.”

  “Xaphista got to you.”

  “I didn’t know it—and I probably wouldn’t have understood what it meant if you’d told me at the time—but I was wide open to any god bending me to his will after that. I don’t know if R’shiel didn’t know, or didn’t care. All I know is that Xaphista found me one night on the way to Greenharbour and after that, all I wanted to do was kill the demon child.”

  Finally, Rakaia understood. “And that’s why Damin Wolfblade sentenced you to death.”

  Mica had tried to kill the demon child.

  Chapter

  46

  “SHE’S HIDING SOMETHING,” Wrayan told Adrina once he was done probing Rakaia’s mind.

  The young woman in question remained stretched out on the cushions of her private sitting room. She was asleep now, peaceful, serene, and innocent. Wrayan had done that for her too, partly to prevent her developing a headache and partly to give them the opportunity to speak in private.

  Adrina walked to the sideboard and poured them each a goblet of wine. Hearing news like that, she felt in need of a drink. “You couldn’t tell what she was hiding?”

  He shrugged as he accepted the goblet from the princess. “This is your sister, your highness, not the man who tried to assassinate Damin. I was trying to be careful.”

  “But if she’s hiding something . . .”

  He took a sip of wine and asked, “Who is Charisee?”

  “Rakaia’s shadow,” Adrina told him, lowering herself to the cushions beside him. “One of father’s countless bastards who grew up in the harem with us. I think her mother was a court’esa. She was assigned to serve Rakaia when she was about six, the theory being that as they grew up together, Charisee would learn to serve and Rakaia would learn to lead. It’s
a common enough practice in the harem.” She smiled, looking down on her unconscious sister. “As I recall, things didn’t go according to plan, with those two. They became fast friends and wreaked all manner of havoc for a while. I was surprised when Rakaia turned up without her, to be honest. I thought those two couldn’t be separated without magical intervention.”

  “Did you ask why she didn’t bring Charisee to Hythria with her?”

  Adrina nodded, and took another sip of wine. “She told me she thought Charisee deserved better than a life as a drudge at Highcastle. Truth is, Frederak wouldn’t have allowed her to keep her own slave anyway, so it was probably the best decision in the circumstances. Is she hiding something to do with Charisee?”

  Wrayan shrugged. “Her thoughts are full of Charisee. But not now, oddly enough . . . when they were younger. And something about Rakaia being Charisee and Charisee being Rakaia. She was right about the scatterbrained thing. I couldn’t really make head nor tail of it.”

  Adrina smiled as a long forgotten memory burbled to the surface—a rare happier time in the harem when someone other than her was causing trouble. “Actually, that’s one thing that does make sense. Rakaia and her little friend used to swap identities all the time when they were younger. Thought it was hilarious, they did. I don’t know that they ever fooled Princess Sophany, but father’s other wives often fell for the prank, and if I’m not mistaken, they even conned Hablet more than once.”

  “Perhaps she’s just missing her sister, which is why she dredging up all those memories of happier times.” Wrayan didn’t seem unduly alarmed by what he’d seen in Rakaia’s thoughts.

  “But she’s still hiding something?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Is it going to be a problem?”

  “I doubt it,” Wrayan said, although he didn’t sound entirely convinced. He took a sip of wine and added, “She certainly bears you or your family no ill will. Quite the opposite. She’s in awe of you.”

  “What’s not to love?” Adrina asked with a thin smile. “But what is she hiding?”

  Wrayan hesitated. Adrina could tell there was something more he wasn’t telling her. “Out with it, Wrayan.”

  He leaned forward and placed the wine on the table, even though he’d only taken a few sips. “Well, there was something else . . . I just don’t want to accuse anyone of something when it may just be the wild fantasies of a lonely young woman.”

  “Accuse away, Wrayan. I’ll decide if it’s something to be concerned about.”

  Wrayan hesitated a moment longer before he took a deep breath and appeared to brace himself for her reaction before saying, “It could have something to do with Kiam.”

  Adrina frowned. She knew Kiam and trusted him, far more than she knew this girl. “Did he hurt her?”

  “Not intentionally.”

  Adrina sighed. “Oh, dear . . .” She looked down at Rakaia’s lovely, peaceful, sleeping face, shaking her head. “You silly, silly girl. Is she in love with him?”

  “Hard to say. She was trying to bury those thoughts as hard as she could.”

  “That explains what she’s hiding then, I suppose,” Adrina said, wondering how big a problem this was going to be. “And also why she offered to delay the wedding the moment she got here. Out of consideration for me, of course.”

  “Of course,” Wrayan agreed with a smile. “What are you going to do?”

  “Speak to Ky first,” she said, downing the rest of the wine in a gulp, “before I jump to any conclusions. He may know nothing about this.”

  “Oh, he knows,” Wrayan told her with absolute certainty. “She has a memory of kissing him that’s burned into her thoughts, and it’s not in a bad way.”

  Adrina cursed in a very un-princess-like fashion. “I warned him. I told him to be careful . . .”

  “Kiam would never betray your trust, your highness. This might just be as innocent as Rakaia fancying herself in love with Ky, and he’s done nothing to encourage it.”

  Adrina couldn’t help feeling responsible for this. She had put the two of them together, after all. “I should have sent someone other than a handsome young assassin to escort her to Greenharbour. Someone old, unattractive . . . who chews with his mouth open.”

  “You mean like the man you’ve arranged for her to marry?”

  She glared at him, not amused at all. “Don’t even joke about it, Wrayan.”

  “Sorry, but I don’t know what else to tell you. She’s not on a mission to destroy you, and if Hablet has instructed her to do anything nefarious, I can find no trace of it in her thoughts. If anything she’s glad to be out of the harem and intends to make the most of her new life here. She’s obviously missing her sister, and she has a crush on Damin’s stepbrother. That’s not so awful in the general scheme of things.”

  “You think it wouldn’t be awful if Frederak Branador thinks his new bride has been amusing herself with a common assassin on her way to marry him?”

  “And yet he’s perfectly fine with the idea that she’s entertained herself with any number of court’esa until now?”

  “I don’t make the double standards in this world, Wrayan, I just suffer under them like everyone else. Did you shield her mind?”

  He nodded and climbed to his feet. “Nobody but a god could get to her now.”

  She sighed as she also rose and walked him to the door. “If that happens, we’ve a lot more to worry about than Rakaia’s infatuation with Kiam Miar. At least now, though, I can let her in on the big family secret.”

  Wrayan glanced at the wolf’s head–carved doors leading to the bedroom where Damin still lay unconscious and unmoving. “No change, I take it?”

  “None at all. I don’t suppose you’ve had any luck finding R’shiel?”

  “Not even Dacendaran seems to know where she is. Or if he does, he isn’t telling. I heard a rumor, though, in the city the other day. Apparently, that man in there is a Karien imposter named Jeck and Damin is really off helping the demon child with some secret mission on which the fate of the whole world depends.”

  Adrina laughed at that. “Really? The whole world depends on it?”

  “You’ve heard the rumor?”

  “I started it.”

  “Well, it’s got legs now.”

  “If you’ve heard it already, and it’s been embellished so much, then it has more than legs, Wrayan. It has wings.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Then I shan’t deny it, if anyone asks. How are you bearing up?”

  “I have good days and bad days. This felt like a good one . . . until now.”

  He glanced back at Rakaia and then smiled. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about, your highness.”

  “I hope you’re right, Wrayan. How long will she sleep?”

  “The rest of the night, if you can move her without waking her,” he said.

  Impulsively, Adrina leaned across and kissed Wrayan’s cheek. “Thank you. I know you’re only here because Marla told you to keep an eye on me, but I do appreciate your help.”

  Wrayan took her hand and kissed her palm. “I would help you anyway, your highness, even if Princess Marla forbade it.”

  Adrina didn’t believe that for a second, but she smiled as if she did. “You will let me know if you hear any news about the demon child?”

  “The moment I hear something,” he promised.

  Adrina opened the door for him, said goodbye to Wrayan, and then ordered one of the guards to fetch some help to move Rakaia to her room.

  After that she closed the door and walked back to the cushions. She looked down and studied her sleeping younger sister for a moment, wondering if she should mention what Wrayan had told her or keep it to herself.

  In truth, she didn’t begrudge Rakaia her infatuation, just wished it was focused on someone less problematic.

  She needed to speak to Ky, Adrina decided, and get his side of the story first, because the sooner Rakaia was married, away from temptation and out
of her hair, the sooner she became one less problem the High Princess of Hythria had to deal with.

  Chapter

  47

  MICA THREW THE last of the wood they’d gathered onto the dying flames. Rakaia had no idea what time it was. She suspected it was edging close to dawn. But while she understood a lot more about Mica’s history, there was still more to be told.

  And nothing yet explained why he’d fled on the Krakandar Road earlier, so distraught and disappointed.

  “What did you do?”

  “Poison,” he said. “Xaphista visited me again in Greenharbour. He gave me the idea. It took me a long time to find the right opportunity. I had to wait until I was serving the demon child and that wasn’t easy. R’shiel and Brak left Greenharbour not long after we arrived. She only stayed long enough to bully the other warlords into line and help Damin secure his throne, then she flew off on the back of a dragon with Brak to convince Hablet of Fardohnya he had to change sides.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Gods, I can still remember how determined I was. How proud I was that nobody guessed my intentions.”

  “What went wrong?”

  He shrugged. “I really don’t know, to be honest. Everything was going according to plan. R’shiel and Brak finally caught up with us on the road back to Medalon. Damin was taking a force to relieve the Karien siege of the Citadel by then. I remember everybody sitting around the tent, laughing and joking . . . I remember putting the jarabane I’d kept hidden in my pocket for weeks into the wine I was about to serve to R’shiel . . . then next thing I know, Brak is yelling, the wine is spilled, Damin has his sword at my throat, and Adrina is begging for my life.”

  Mica stopped, his eyes misting with tears. This part, it seemed, was almost more than he could bear.

  “Mica . . . it’s alright. If you don’t want talk about it . . .”

  He wiped his eyes impatiently, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I want to tell you . . . I do. I’ve never told anyone before. Never had anyone to tell, truth be told . . . it’s just . . . can I sing it for you?”