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Chapter 9: Just Let Her Try
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Daine stared at her feet and thought about the floor.
A few steps away the other players were performing a farce, raising their hands to the ceiling and declaring their love for one character, only to wink slyly at the audience and saunter off behind the scenery with another. The people in the hall howled with laughter as the players disappeared off in pairs together, and whooped lewdly when they left the stage in threes and fours. Whatever they thought the characters were up to behind the scenes was untrue. The players sighed and stretched in the cooler anteroom for a few moments, rubbing their eyes wearily before plastering false smiles on their faces again and returning to the farce.
Daine waited. She was to dance later, after the feast, but in the meantime she didn't really want to join the crowd. Some of the things Numair had told her made her feel odd, and she didn't quite know how to think about them when there were always scores of people around. The anteroom was the quietest place she'd found. Some of the players gave her odd looks when they spotted her thin shadow leaning against the wall, but she didn't mind. Besides, she had a good reason for lurking there: the next room was the strange little library Numair had found the night before, and even if she looked lost in thought she was ready to warn him if it looked like anyone might walk in and catch him looking through the books.
She looked at her feet and thought about the ground. She was used to a different kind of stone underfoot, warmed by the sun or blighted by the cold, but alive and breathing with the day and the night. This stone felt dead to her. There were no grasses that drank in the heat of the sunlight and released it in perfumed breaths by night, shining with sweet dew and swaying in the evening breeze. There were no soft voices of the people, because not even mice or voles or birds would want to live in a place like this. Daine hated even sleeping in a room with the windows shut. It made her feel trapped, cut off from the world, so here in this underground cavern of a palace she felt so claustrophobic she could barely breathe.
It reminded her of Carthak.
Yes, that was it. It reminded her of being caged and helpless, and the thought made her shudder. This was the kind of place where you could trap someone for years. You could lock them away in the darkness and no-one else would ever, ever hear them screaming.
"Are you alright?" Numair was probably the only person in the world who could sneak up on her, and Daine jumped before smiling ruefully at him and nodding. He frowned, clearly not believing her, but didn't press the question. He gestured to the library door. "I couldn't find anything. They're old books, but having read most of the titles I don't think they're magical. Whatever those charms are, the answer's not in there."
Daine nodded and stood up straighter, trying not to think about the cold stone under her fingers as she touched the wall. She made her voice light. "At least we know that now. So we're back to exploring the castle, right? What was that, plan five? Plan fifty?"
"Can't we start from one again? I've had so many failed ideas that it's getting embarrassing." Numair looked up at the back of the scenery as the sounds of crashing plates and cheerful chatter began. He smiled and took her hand in an oddly aristocratic manner, raising an eyebrow at her surprised giggle. "Come, Mistress Sarrasri, don't be coy! We must play attendance upon our gracious host!"
"And you must pick someone's pocket, my noble Lord Salmalin?" She returned, brushing down her skirts with her free hand to get rid of any wrinkles. He nodded in a dignified manner, imitating Grasmar's pompous poise, and she couldn't help smiling. "When we get back to Corus we'll have to make this spying work sound a lot more impressive than it really is, you know."
"If you steal flamboyantly you tend to get caught." He whispered into her ear as they walked back around the scenery into the banqueting hall, and she giggled.
"I have to help them set up the rope." She said, and stood on her toes to kiss him lightly in goodbye. She caught sight of something over his shoulder and her expression darkened for a second before she flashed him a last smile and darted away. Numair barely had time to wonder what she had seen before he smelled the strong, pungent and alcohol-drenched perfume of a rather unwelcome acquaintance.
"My lady." He said, trying not to sigh as he turned around and bowed. His voice might have sounded terser than he meant when he asked, "What do you want?"
"What were you doing in my library?" Emma asked, her voice flat. When the man blinked and stared at her blankly she laughed. "Oh, don't you think I know what's going on in my own home? Be sensible, little juggler. I know everything that happens here. Everything you want to find out, it seems, by prying through my books. Did you find anything?"
"No," he decided honesty was probably best, since she already knew the truth. His heart raced, although he hoped she'd think it was because he'd been found out. In truth, he was wondering if she knew he'd wanted to be discovered.
Emma would only know the truth if she had been listening in on Numair and Daine's plans earlier in the day, and he had used every spell he could think of to block that conversation from prying ears. Still, there was always a chance that any spell, no matter how powerful, could be broken. The lady smiled thinly and inspected one gilded nail with slow, nonchalant disdain.
"Did you find any money? Jewels? Military secrets? Things you can sell?" She asked, and her eyes narrowed. He tensed and looked around, but the castle guards seemed to be relaxing by the ale pitchers and not about to pounce on him.
"I'm not a thief." He said tightly, "You know that, Emma."
"Hm. I knew that." Her expression sharpened, and for a moment the yellowish eyes looked almost hawk-like. "Then what were you looking for?"
"I don't know. Letters? Diaries? I want to know what happened to you." He said, and took a step closer to lower his voice. She couldn't doubt the truth in his words, because it wasn't a lie. For a moment her arrogant mask slipped, and she looked up with an odd expression.
"I can't just give you what you want." She whispered, "It doesn't work that way. You have to play along, you know. For every game there has to be someone dealing the cards, and I'm not…" She stopped and clapped a hand over her mouth with an odd cry, as if she had been pinched by a petty child. Slowly, she lowered her shaking hand and pressed her lips together in a thin, determined line. "I won't pay for your mistakes." She hissed.
"I don't know what you mean." He said, sounding suddenly weary. "Emma, I'm sorry for everything that happened between us, but it was a long time ago, and…"
"Not everyone can forget as easily as you." She laughed wildly and for a moment her eyes flashed up towards the ceiling. It wasn't an absentminded gesture, she was clearly gesturing towards something with her gaze, but before he could follow her line of sight her mood had changed again, with the rapid circling of a fractious wasp. The polite, noble mask dropped over her expression so quickly it almost audibly snapped to, and she smiled. "Ah, and the dear dancing girl has come to rescue you, it seems."
"Daine," Numair turned and greeted her warily, but with genuine relief. He held out a hand to the girl who took it with only a brief look of surprise, knowing that the mage didn't normally make such a show of affection around other people. Following his lead, she linked her arm with his and kissed his cheek in greeting before bowing her head towards their host.
"My lady," Daine said politely to Emma, "I came to tell you that we're almost done setting up for the second act, if you'd care to take your seat."
"Don't trust me with him, eh?" The woman said confidingly, smirking when Daine blushed fiercely.
"You're a very pretty woman, ma'am." She answered, stumbling over the courtesy with a look of pure dislike. "But I would trust him with anyone. I just don't trust him to keep good time!"
"He loves you that much?" Emma asked, and smiled innocently. "Well then, I'm surprised he lets you… oh, what was the phrase, 'dance with death for my amusement'?"
Numair looked away for a second, and Daine felt her hatred for the woman boil at the odd smirk on her face. "He trusts me, too." She said pointedly.
"What a wonderful, dangerous thing your love seems to be. I don't believe in it for a second." The lady's voice was lazy, and then she smiled so suddenly that the makeup on the edge of her lips cracked. Turning her head and cutting the girl out of the conversation entirely with an imperious gesture, her voice took on a bright, girlish challenge. "Numair, my dear, how would you care to make a wager?"
"A wager?" He asked, his voice guarded. Emma nodded eagerly.
"Yes! We both have something to gamble, it seems. So here's my deal. I will tell you everything you want to know, if… and only if… this girl agrees to dance with death for me every night you are here. I make the rules, and she dances to them every night. One night, one question answered. Two nights, two questions. No other favours, no unlocked doors or open libraries, just an answered question every night."
"You want her to risk her life." Numair said flatly, in a voice that said 'no' more clearly than any other word. Emma sighed and shook her head, looking woefully at Daine.
"Oh, what's wrong? I thought you said he trusted you?"
"He doesn't trust you." Daine snapped, and then took her arm out of Numair's and stepped forward. This close, the woman's perfume was overpowering and the stale reek of sweat and wine was clear under it, but Daine made herself step closer. "You want me to risk my life for you? What sort of game do you think you're playing?"
"I'll forgive you that tone of voice, dancer." Emma waved a hand gently but her eyes were steely as she said. "Only once, mind. I'm not asking you for anything. If either of you want my answers he has to agree, right now, and with no more help from you. You said he trusts you. You said he loves you. Let's see which one is stronger."
Numair looked up, and Daine felt her heart twist at the bright anguish written on his eyes. He doesn't even like me dancing with the cord on my wrist. She thought, wrapping her hand unconsciously around the rope burn that was all that remained of where the fall had snapped her wrist out of joint. He knows this is the best way to get answers, but he can't bring himself to agree. Who knows what Emma will ask me to do? Do I want him to agree? I don't trust her, either! But…
He drew a deep breath, and Daine knew that he was going to say no. His eyes had moved to her wrist and she could see him remembering her falling from the rope in the town further down the valley. Slowly, knowing that Emma's eyes were fixed on Numair's face as he made his choice, Daine reached inside the neck of her shirt and brought out the charm he'd strung there. She held it up, knowing that when it caught the light he would see it. When his eyes lit on it he met her gaze and then, as if pulled by an invisible string, he forced his eyes away.
"Yes." He said hoarsely, and stared at the ground as if he wanted it to swallow him up. "Yes, Emma. I agree."
Emma laughed and clapped her hands, and both of the Tortallans flinched.
"Well then, run along!" She trilled, flapping her hands and raising her voice so that the rest of the room could hear. They caught her tone and cheered, looking towards the players' stage and chatting eagerly as their lady finished, "Let the play begin!"
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Daine had almost finished putting her wings on when Grasmar bumbled into the atrium, wringing his hands.
"What did you say to the lady?" He asked, forgetting to speak with his usual pompous vocabulary in his anguish. "She thinks the rope is broken! She's ordered her men to change it!"
"Well then, if the great Lady Salydis has changed the rope, then it must have needed changing." Daine said through gritted teeth, and tied the last knot with a savage yank against the canvas thread. The troupe master gaped at her, and waved a hand back through the door.
"Yes, but the rope is just a rope! It's not tarred, or thick, or even pulled taut. They've just strung a rope across the ceiling and they think you can dance on it!"
"I can." She said shortly, and didn't say another word until the man threw his hands up theatrically and left her alone. Daine looked up at the tiny metal mirror the dancing women had propped up against the wall, and saw the uneasiness in her own eyes. "I can." She whispered again, "I have to. So I will."
It was almost a relief to her that Numair had to take his own turn on the stage, and that she had a few minutes alone to catch her whirling thoughts. She had pushed him into agreeing, she knew, and even now the decision was made he was still trying to talk about ways to get out of it. Daine didn't think like that. She had never been able to keep up with the rapid whirl of thoughts her friend seemed to have. In her mind, if a plan had been made, it was better to try it and see how it fared than to think of fifty new ways to change it. For every reason she gave for following through with the wager, it would only be a few moments before Numair would interrupt with, "But…".
"It's done, Numair." She said in the end, her voice frustrated. "I'm fine with it. I really am. And I don't want to talk about it. If you have to think so blessed much then think of some questions to ask that woman instead of thinking of plans. For Shakith's sake, if she found out you were trying to cheat then why would she answer any questions at all? Stop thinking and let's play the stupid game. At least this way we know she'll keep her word."
"In exchange for you risking your life." He retorted, his voice dangerous. She whirled and glared at him, unable to stop snapping.
"I hate to break this to you, Numair, but that's what I do." She grabbed at her wings, bending the wires that formed them back into shape. "There's no difference between fighting a stormwing or an emperor or a crazy woman in a fort. Sooner or later, I'm going to get hurt."
"Daine, listen to me. She's not going to try to hurt you. She's going to try to kill you." He said with a vein of iron patience in his voice. "She's not testing you, she's testing me. She's trying to see how far I'll let this go. The only reason… the only reason I agreed is because Emma doesn't know you're using magic to balance on that rope. Her challenges won't be as dangerous for you as she thinks, but they'll still be deadly. Once a day, for as many days as we stay here, there's a very real chance that you'll be killed… and you don't want me to think of a way out of that?"
"No, I don't." She said bluntly. "I want you to think of questions that are worth me risking my life for. I'll not do it if all you can find out is what she had for breakfast this morning."
"Gods, it's like arguing with a mule." He snapped.
"Did you look in the mirror when you said that?" She retorted, "Because I'm fair sure there's only one stubborn dolt in here, and it isn't me!"
Thinking back, Daine couldn't remember what they'd said next. She could only remember the burning ache in her throat when he abruptly turned on his heel and left the room, running his hand through his hair in the way he always did when he was upset. She wasn't even sure which one of them had the last word, because it all seemed so pointless now anyway. Numair knew Daine wasn't going to back down from any of the challenges Emma concocted in her dark, secretive mind. And Daine knew that she couldn't stop Numair from trying to protect her. Normally the thought made her feel warm inside, loved and cherished, but after their argument it made her stomach crawl.
It doesn't seem to matter if the danger's real or just something he's made up in his mind, she thought bitterly. He won't let me take any risks. He doesn't believe I can do things on my own. I destroyed a palace and hunted down an emperor and faced down the gods but he panics if I mis-tie my own damned boots in the morning.
The thought wasn't fair, and some part of her knew that – perhaps the part that had haughtily told Emma how much Numair trusted her less than an hour before. But still, the thought was enough to make Daine square her shoulders and face herself in the mirror, seeing the odd halo of the gauze wings that rose up behind her reflected face.
"She won't kill me." She told the mirror, and grinned savagely at the answering, burning fierceness in her reflection's eyes. "Just let her try."
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