House of Shadows(95)

Nemienne had an uncomfortable conviction that she knew, at least in broad terms, what had actually given Lonne that twisting not-quite-real sideways shove.





CHAPTER 13




The Laodd was imposing enough from the candlelight district. When one actually stood before it, with its powerful walls rearing above and the afternoon sun blazing in its thousand windows and close at hand the roaring Nijiadde Falls drowning speech and sense as it thundered down the cliffs into its lake… “imposing” was not an adequate term. Leilis had almost changed her mind at that point, almost gone back to Cloisonné House. But pride, or stubbornness, or simply the habit of making careful decisions and then holding to them, had stiffened her resolve. Thus she had not turned away, but instead approached the guards.

Now she waited, alone, in a great echoing chamber with walls as thick as those of a tomb and no amenities to soften its stark chilliness. In its own way, this room was as intimidating as the Laodd’s outer ramparts. It was meant to be, she knew: the intimidation as much a calculated effect as Cloisonné House’s warm welcome. Common people were supposed to wait in this room, and while they waited, they were supposed to think again about why they had come here. If their reasons for approaching the court were trivial, they were expected to slink out quietly and go home. The guards at the Laodd gates wouldn’t question them. For most people, leaving the Laodd was much easier than entering.

Leilis could leave. Indeed, she hadn’t had to come here at all. She could have gone to Mother right away, let Narienneh be the one to approach the court. Narienneh knew everyone. She could have approached the right person, someone powerful who would know what to do about a Kalchesene sorcerer who’d had the temerity to enter Lonne. But, no. Leilis had told herself she’d meant to keep her House clear of any entanglements, but now she suspected it had merely been pride that had prompted her to venture the cliff road herself. Misplaced pride. Whom did she know?

She hadn’t really been thinking clearly, she acknowledged now. Or at least, she hadn’t let herself recognize everything she’d been thinking. Because even more than leaving everything to Mother, she’d been tempted simply to take no action whatever. Because she knew—she knew—the foreign lord must be a sorcerer. A Kalchesene sorcerer. Why else would he have tried to murder the Dragon’s heir? Why else would he have tried to do so with enspelled pipes?

But, even knowing so much, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from wondering what else a Kalchesene sorcerer might be able to do that Lonne mages couldn’t. Might a sorcerer, for example, be able to remove strange curses? Hadn’t the foreigner even implied as much? And seemed willing to do it?

And, after all, Prince Tepres hadn’t actually been harmed by whatever magic had been in those pipes. In a way, that made it almost as though the foreigner had never given them to the prince, didn’t it?

She couldn’t quite persuade herself of this, although she wanted to. Besides, if she told no one about these pipes and then the Kalchesene finished what he’d come to Lonne to do—if the prince or anyone else died at his hands—it would be her fault. That was an obvious conclusion, and wishing it had never occurred to her didn’t make it vanish from her mind.

Leilis hadn’t, in the event, been able to persuade herself to anything so immoral as complete inaction. But she hadn’t gone to Narienneh, either. She’d come to the Laodd herself, in a sort of compromise between inaction and efficiency.

She’d first intended to approach the prince himself, but that had clearly been foolish. Then she had thought of Jeres Geliadde. Surely he would be interested in what she had to say. But the dour bodyguard frightened her. So then she had thought of the prince’s left-hand friend, Koriadde. Surely Koriadde, himself keiso born, would listen to a woman from the flower world.

So she had come to the Laodd and asked to see Koriadde. And now she stayed, and waited, and would not give up and go home. She stood instead by the room’s one window and looked out at the late sun turning the spume from Nijiadde Falls to glittering diamond, and though she wanted to run across the room to the door and then down the echoing hall and out of the Laodd and back to the candlelight district, she didn’t.

She turned restlessly and paced around the perimeter of the room. She had done this twice, now. Each circuit took a long time, if one walked slowly, for the room was quite large. She told herself that when she reached the window again, if someone hadn’t yet come to escort her to Koriadde, she would leave the Laodd, but she could tell that this wasn’t a firm decision because as soon as she told herself this, her steps slowed even further. Maybe if she delayed long enough, she would never reach the window. Or maybe Koriadde—