Jahna doubted she’d find any sleep tonight, and the rest of the evening’s festivities didn’t hold any interest for her, especially now with the knowledge of Radimar’s upcoming departure. “Dame Stalt left a scroll in one of the Archives’ repositories. It describes the fading of the Gullperi from the world. She thought I might enjoy it. I’ll stop there first to pick it up before joining Sodrin. I suspect I’ll find him him either asleep or hunched over a basin tossing up the contents of his stomach.”
She went on tiptoe to kiss her father’s cheek and bid him goodnight. She headed for the door, stopping when he called her name. An inscrutable look had settled over Uhlfrida’s face. “Jahna, it may not seem so, but it’s probably a good thing that Radimar is returning to Ilinfan now.”
Good for whom, Father? She wanted to ask him but stayed silent, only nodding before turning away to escape the hall with its roar of noise and sea of people.
Except for a few scribes who greeted her with a wave or quick “Happy Delyalda, Lady Uhlfrida,” the Archives were deserted. Jahna found the scroll Dame Stalt had left for her on one of the writing tables, a card bearing her name tied to a ribbon that held the scroll shut. It was a heavy thing, promising several hours of reading that Jahna hoped would either engross her in its contents or help her fall asleep so she didn’t succumb to the sadness purling just under the surface of her serene demeanor.
The palace corridors were almost as quiet as the Archives except for the strains of music drifting through the cloisters’ open archways from the bailey below. Jahna had almost reached the doors to their chambers when she found herself suddenly blocked and cast back to three years earlier and the terror of the hunt when she was the prey.
Evaline Lacramor stood in the hallway, flanked by Nadel, Tefila and three others Jahna didn’t recognize—all women except for one man who seemed puzzled as to why they all decided to stop here. They spanned the hall’s width, cutting off Jahna’s access to her rooms and the safety they offered.
Still pretty, still petty, still driven by some strange need to seek out Jahna simply for the pleasure of tormenting her, Evaline took a few steps closer and eyed Jahna as if she were some particularly gruesome specimen someone had unearthed from a forgotten midden.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Fireface, roaming about the palace all alone.” The cruel smile blossoming across her full lips diminished her beauty. “Searching for something, Jahna? Lose your friends?” She tilted her head to one side and tittered. “Oh wait. You don’t have any.” Her brittle trill of laughter was echoed by the other women. The man, recognizing he was clearly out of his element, looked even more baffled.
“Too busy writing on parchment all day with those shriveled up prunes in the Archives,” Nadel added.
Evaline’s lip curled, her disdain obvious. “They’re probably the only ones who can stand to look at her.” Her eyes narrowed at her quarry’s continued silence and impassive face.
Three years ago, Jahna had huddled in terror within the shadows of an alcove, praying she’d remain invisible to those who tracked her. Things were different now. She was different. Evaline seemed far less monstrous to her and far more petty, a shallow creature made of sharp-edged sparkle and little substance, and Jahna had no patience for her.
She strode forward, straight through their little group. Their surprise at her forceful action was no less than hers when they parted to let her through. A tiny part of her cheered. This might end without trouble.
That spark of hope died a quick death when Evaline’s hand wrapped around her arm, sharp nails digging into her sleeve. Her voice was the hiss of a viper that snaked through the corridor and scraped across Jahna’s ear. “Don’t you walk away from me, you haughty cunt! I’m talking to you.”
“I will teach you how to save yourself.”Radimar’s declaration when she first met him, echoed in Jahna’s mind, and something inside her snapped.
She pivoted so fast, the movement jerked Evaline forward before she lost her grip on Jahna’s arm. Jahna’s hand swung up, then down again, striking Evaline so hard across the face, it slammed her into the adjacent wall. She ricocheted off the stone and fell, clutching the side of her face with one hand while screeching in pain. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and both her cheek and bottom lip were already swelling. She scuttled back on her haunches with a shriek when Jahna advanced a step toward her. Evaline’s cadre of lickspittles did nothing to help, their own faces open-mouthed with shock and a new fear.
“Don’t touch me. Ever.” Jahna warned her fallen tormenter in a voice she hardly recognized as hers. She raised the scroll as if it were a club. “Anyone else?” As one, the rest took several steps back. Jahna pinned them all with her gaze before settling back on the cowering Evaline who had stopped screeching when she realized no one was leaping to her defense.
“I owe no one an apology for my appearance, least of all you and your toadies. You don’t like it?” Jahna shrugged. “I don’t care. Go look at something else. Come near me again, and I’ll make sure the next time you won’t be able to stand up, even with help.”
The first rush of bracing fury was fading, and Jahna’s calves flexed with the urge to sprint to the chamber doors so very close and oh so far away, but she didn’t dare turn her back. The voice that spoke behind her her couldn’t have been more welcome.
“Is there a problem here?” Radimar’s green gaze swept Jahna from head to toe first before turning to Evaline and her group, who finally decided to help her off the floor. “Something I need to take to Lord Uhlfrida and Lord Lacramor?” he continued. “I have excellent sight and even better hearing, but there might be a detail or two I missed, and you’re all more than welcome to accompany me to fill in the gaps when we tell our version of events.”
Whether it was the scroll Jahna still held like a mace or Radimar’s implacable expression, none of Evaline’s followers put up a protest or accepted Radimar’s offer. They backed away slowly before turning to scurry back the way they came, Nadel and Tefila dragging a slumped Evaline along with them.
“You should have called for help, Jahna.”
She dragged her gaze away from the fleeing group to find Radimar scowling at her. “Who would hear me? You heard Evaline screeching there. No one came to see what all that racket was about.” She looked past him to the hallway from which he appeared. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“I wasn’t until right before you landed that blow on…”
“Evaline.” He always managed to coax at least a lip twitch from her with his purposeful absentmindedness regarding Evaline’s name.
“The whelp’s face,” he continued. “That wasn’t the wisest decision to face her down with you outnumbered six to one and no help in sight.” He paused. “Though I believe you managed to shift the balance of power permanently in your favor.”
Jahna wasn’t so sure, and in the aftermath of that rush of fury which had buoyed her courage, shivers began a slow ratchet down her spine and up her arms. “She’ll probably be out for revenge.” Her hand throbbed, a reminder of just how hard she’d struck her enemy.
Radimar’s assessing gaze lingered on her face. “Maybe, maybe not. That type is usually cowardly. Their best skill is sniffing out an easy target. You’ve just proven you are no longer one of those targets. I suspect she’ll avoid you in the future. Once you feared her. Now she fears you.”
There was a certain cold comfort to the idea, and Jahna pushed it to the back of her mind to take out and analyze later when she was alone and more contemplative. She reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and hissed at the pain that sizzled down her fingers.
Pale ribbons of dried blood streaked her knuckles, and the middle one was starting to swell a little. Either her blow was harder than she thought or Evaline possessed one very sturdy cheekbone.
Radimar caught her palm in his in a gentle clasp. “Let me see.” He turned her palm this way and that, his own callused fingers sliding lightly over hers. “Nothing broken. Just some bruising. The whelp, on the other hand, will look a little worse for wear by morning. You probably knocked a few of her teeth loose.”
