“So if you’re Catua’s secret,” I said as we walked, “what are the others’? Emment’s? Llir’s?”
She threw me a wild look. “What do you mean?”
I glanced around. It was early; we were utterly alone. I’d be taking a risk, confiding in Rhianne, but something told me she harbored suspicions of her own—I still remembered her flashed glances at Tigo, the odd look she’d given me when I’d talked about Zennia. And from the way she’d spoken about Orha traditions, I didn’t get the impression she shared Tigo’s loyalty…
“Listen,” I said. “I know what Emment’s been up to. But I’m starting to think there might be more.”
I told her about the trip. The fights at the Veil. The crossing back and the sinking sands. Emment’s story, relayed in choked sobs. The extra regals he’d slipped me later.
By the end, Rhianne’s mouth was hanging open. “The valets were gossiping about that night,” she said, “but they only said he’d comeback sozzled again. I didn’t realize he’d nearlydied.That you—you saved him.” She stared at me. She had that same look on her face that Llir had. Like she was suddenlyseeingme. My face felt hot.
“Did you know about the fights?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Tigo told me. He found out from Llir. It’s all just…horrible.”
She paused, something kindling in her eyes. “His story, though, about what happened with Zennia. The crossing, the waves…that’s what he told all of us. But these last few weeks, I’ve been thinking back. I was burning old timber up near the pinewood that day. It was pallwater—did you know that? Calm as could be. Not a storm cloud in sight. Nothing stronger than a breeze.”
I gazed at her, hearing the sea shush nearby. “Of course it was pallwater,” I murmured, realizing. I’d been picturing the angry swells of archwater, but Emment had said they’d crossed by boat, which didn’t make sense if it wasn’t pallwater, when the causeway was always part-covered by the sea.
“Sometimes the sands, they can change their shape, and that makes the water swirl in differently…but that only really happens at archwater. And then, whenyouarrived and told us about Zennia…about how she was top of your class…” She broke off.
“It doesn’t add up,” I finished for her, looking out at the distantbay.
“No, it doesn’t,” she said intently. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell Tigo. But he believes Llir, and Llir believes his brother…I don’t think any of them thought very deeply about it.”
“What doyouthink happened?” My voice had turned hoarse. Something dark crouched in the pit of my stomach.
She looked at me, guarded and sad all at once. The quiet, the far-off rushing of the waves, stretched on until I could hardly bear it. Thenshe folded her arms and said, “I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe therewasa squall.” But I could see she didn’t really believe it.
What was Emment Shearwater capable of?
We parted ways then, and I headed for the castle. I’d be starting my chores early—very early—but I hoped that meant I could finish a little sooner. Retreat to my room and dwell on what I’d learned. Try to work out how I was going to tackle my new tasks.
For Kielty was telling the truth, I was sure now, and I was even more determined to find out what he knew. If that meant aiding dangerous rebels…so be it. And in the meantime, I’d uncover what I could.
The sun was just rising, speckling the gatehouse in bronze as I walked under its archway and into the outer ward. I’d expected to see no one at this ungodly hour, which was why, when I spotted a hunched figure ahead of me, I hesitated, shrinking back into the shadows.
I was soon glad I’d hidden. The figure was Llir, his mantle hanging loose over what looked like nightclothes. His boots scraped on the stone as he crossed to a tower, one of many that made up the curtain wall, round and choked with an autumn-red creeper. My pulse picked up. What was he doing out this early?
And, for that matter, what was he doinghere? As far as I knew, this tower was abandoned.
As Llir took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door, glancing left and right before entering, I remembered with a jolt: Zennia’s letter. The one I’d found in the crevice in my room, with the mysterious dates scrawled on the back.“Sometimes I make out lights in odd places.”Maybe it had beenthistower she’d seen the lights in. And maybe the dates were the times she’d seen them.
Thethunkandclickof the lock echoed toward me. Then—silence. Llir didn’t reemerge.
When I was sure I was alone, I left the gatehouse and picked my way over the scrubby grass. I headed for the keep, where my duties waited, but as I walked my eyes crawled up to the tower’s arrow slits.
I knew one of Emment’s secrets. I knew Catua’s now, too. Rexim and Vercha might have secrets; they might not.
But I still wasn’t much closer to learning Llir’s.
22
Theday of the ball bore down upon us, and the fevered anticipation in the castle grew.
I couldn’t seem to shake off flitters of curiosity, of reluctant excitement, at the thought of the dance. As much as I knew I had a mission to focus on, that this was a distraction, that I wasn’t part of this world, I still caught myself looking forward to seeing the decorations and wondering—worrying—how I would look in my new dress.
But as the days passed, I reminded myself that I couldn’t leave my next task late like last time. I had to assume that anything could delay me. And that meant getting started on the laconite soon.
