Текст книги "Poison Study"

Автор книги: Maria V. Snyder

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

  His journal slipped from my paralyzed hands. I flung myself over the bed, intent on finding the knife, but Reyad, thinking I was trying to escape, caught me. My struggles were useless, as he forced me to my knees. With my face pressed into the rough stone floor, Reyad chained my hands behind my neck.

  The anticipation was more frightening than the actual event. In a sick way, it was a comfort, because I knew what to expect and when he would stop. I played my part, understanding that if I denied him his intended moves, I would only enrage him further.

  When the horror finally ceased, blood covered my back and coated the insides of my legs. I curled into a ball on the edge of Reyad’s bed. My mind dead. My body throbbing. His fingers were inside me. Where he would always be, he breathed into my ear as he lay beside me.

  This time the knife was within my reach. My thoughts lingered on suicide.

  Then Reyad said, “I guess I’ll have to start a new journal.”

  I did not respond.

  “We’ll be training a new girl now that you’ve failed.” He sat up, and dug his fingers deeper into me. “Up on your knees. Time for page two.”

  “No!” I screamed. “You won’t!” Fumbling for a frantic second, I pulled the knife out and sliced at his throat. A surface cut only, but he fell back on the bed in surprise. I leaped onto his chest, slashing deeper. The blade scraped bone. Blood sprayed. A warm feeling of satisfaction settled over me when I realized I could no longer determine whose blood pooled between my thighs.

  “So that’s what set you off? The fact that I was going to rape you again?” Reyad’s ghost asked.

  “No. It was the thought of you torturing another girl from the orphanage.”

  “Oh, yes.” He snorted. “Your friends.”

  “My sisters,” I corrected. “I killed you for them, but I should have done it for me.” Anger surged through my body. I cornered him. My fists struck out even though I knew in a tiny part of my mind that I couldn’t hurt him. His smug expression never changed, but I punched again and again until the first rays of dawn touched Reyad’s ghost. He vanished from sight.

  Sobbing, I sank to the floor. After a while, I became aware of my surroundings. My fists were bloodied from hitting the rough stone wall. I was exhausted and drained of all emotions. And I was late for breakfast. Damn Valek!

  “Pay attention,” Ari said. He jabbed me in the stomach with a wooden knife. “You’re dead. That’s the fourth time today. What’s the matter?”

  “Lack of sleep,” I said. “Sorry.”

  Ari gestured me to the bench along the wall. We sat down and watched Maren and Janco, engaged in a friendly bow match on the far side of the storeroom. Janco’s speed had overpowered Maren’s skill, and she was on the retreat, backing into a corner.

  “She’s tall and thin, but she’s not going to win,” Janco sang. His words aimed to infuriate her-a tactic that had worked before. Too often, Maren’s anger caused her to make critical mistakes. But this time, she remained calm. She planted the end of her bow between his feet, which trapped his weapon close to his body. Then she flipped over his head, landed behind him, and grabbed him around the neck until he conceded.

  My bleak mood improved a notch watching Maren use something I had taught her. The indignant expression on Janco’s face was priceless. He insisted on a rematch. They launched into another rowdy duel. Ari and I remained on the bench. I think Ari sensed that I had no energy to continue our lesson.

  “Something’s wrong,” he said in a quiet voice. “What is it?”

  “I-” I stopped, unsure of my answer. Should I tell him about Valek’s cold shoulder and change of heart? Or about my nightlong conversation with the ghost of the man I’d murdered? No. Instead I asked him, “Do you think this is a waste of time?” Reyad’s words about procrastination had held a ring of truth. Perhaps the time I spent training was merely a subconscious ploy to avoid solving my real problems.

  “If I thought this was a waste of time, I wouldn’t be here.” A trace of anger colored Ari’s voice. “You need this, Yelena.”

  “Why? I might die before I even have a chance to use it.”

  “As I see it, you’re already good at running and hiding. It took you a week to get up the nerve to talk to Maren. And if it was up to you, she’d still be calling you Puker. You need to learn to stand and fight for what you want.” Ari fidgeted with the wooden knife, spinning it around his hand.

  “You hover on the edges, ready to take off if something goes wrong. But when you can knock the bow from Janco’s hands, and sweep my feet out from under me, you’ll be empowered.” He paused, and then said, “If you feel you need to spend your time on something else, then do it…in addition to your training. Then the next time someone calls you Puker, you’ll have the confidence to tell her to go to hell.”

  I was amazed at Ari’s assessment of me. I couldn’t even say if I agreed or disagreed with him, but I did know he was right about my compulsion to do something else. He didn’t know what it was, but I did: find the antidote to Butterfly’s Dust.

  “Is that your idea of encouragement?” I asked in a shaky voice.

  “Yes. Now quit looking for an excuse to stop training, and trust me. What else do you need?”

  The quiet intensity of Ari’s voice caused a chill to ripple up my spine. Did he know what I was planning, or was he guessing? My intentions had always been to get the antidote and run to Sitia. Run away, run away, run away. Ari had been right about that. But running south would require me to be in top physical condition, and to have the ability to defend myself from guards. However, I had been evading one important detail: Valek.

  He would follow me to Sitia, and crossing the border wouldn’t make me safe from him. Even Irys’s magic couldn’t protect me. He would consider my recapture or my death a personal responsibility. And that was what I’d been so afraid to face. What I’d been dancing around. I’d been concentrating on training so I wouldn’t have to deal with the dilemma I feared I wasn’t smart enough to solve. I had to enhance my strategy, to include not only obtaining the antidote, but dealing with Valek without killing him. I doubted Ari had the solution.

  “You might beat Valek with these blows.” Janco puffed while blocking Maren’s bow. “He’ll laugh himself silly at how pathetically weak they are, giving you the perfect opening.”

  Maren remained silent, but increased the pace of her attack. Janco backed off.

  Janco’s words stirred in my mind. An odd little long-shot plan began to take shape. “Ari, can you teach me how to pick locks?”

  He considered my words in silence. Finally, he said, “Janco could.”

  “Janco?”

  Ari smiled. “He seems harmless and happy-go-lucky, but as a boy he got into all kinds of mischief until he was trapped in a tight spot. Then he was given the choice of either joining the military or going to jail. Now he’s a Captain. His biggest advantage is that no one thinks he is serious, and that’s exactly what he wants.”

  “I’ll try and remember that the next time he’s cracking jokes and my ribs.” I watched Maren beat Janco a second time.

  “Best three out of five, my lady can not deny,” Janco called tirelessly.

  Maren shrugged. “If your ego can handle it,” she replied, swiping at his feet with her bow. He jumped, avoiding her attack with an athletic grace, and lunged. The rhythmic crack of wood striking wood filled our practice room.

  Ari stood, assumed a defensive stance, and somehow I found the energy to face him.

  After the workout, the four of us were resting on the bench when Valek arrived. Maren shot to her feet, as if she thought being found sitting idle was a crime, but the rest of us kept our relaxed positions. I found it fascinating to watch the small changes in Maren’s behavior whenever Valek was around. Her rough edge softened, she smiled more and tried to engage him in conversation or a match. Most of the time he would review fighting tactics with her, or conduct a practice, and she would preen like an alley cat attracting the biggest tom. But this time he wanted to talk to me. Alone. The others left the room. Maren shot me a dark look with the force of one of her bow strikes. I would pay for this tomorrow, I thought.

  Valek paced. With an uneasy feeling, I hoped that he wasn’t searching for a rock to throw.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked him. “Is it about tonight?” Excitement over exposing Margg soured to nervousness when I thought of the risk I’d be taking. The idea that this might be another waste of time surfaced. Damn Reyad’s ghost! He was making me doubt everything. The leak impacted my life. Someone had tipped off those goons at the fire festival, and Irys had known I was in the forest. Margg needed to be plugged.

  “No. We’re all set for tonight,” Valek said. “This is about the Commander.” He paused.

  “What about him?”

  “Has he been meeting with anyone strange this week?”

  “Strange?”

  “Someone you don’t know or an adviser from another Military District?”

  “Not that I’ve seen. Why?”

  Valek paused again. I could see his mental wheels turning as he considered whether or not to trust me. “Commander Ambrose has agreed to admit a Sitian delegation.”

  “That’s bad?” I asked, confused.

  “He hates southerners! They’ve requested a meeting with him every year since the takeover. And for the last fifteen years, the Commander has replied with a single word: no. Now they’re due to arrive in a week.” Valek’s pacing increased. “Ever since you became the food taster and that Criollo showed up, the Commander has been acting different. I couldn’t put my finger on it before, it was just a nagging feeling, but now I have two particular incidents.”

  “The change in his successor and now the southern delegation?”

  “Exactly.”

  I had no response. My experience with the Commander had been the complete opposite of what I had expected from a military dictator. He considered other opinions, was firm, decisive and fair. His power was obvious; every command was instantaneously obeyed. He lived the spartan life that he endorsed. There was no fear in his advisers and high-ranking officers, just an unflappable loyalty and immense respect. The only horror story since the takeover that I’d heard was about Rand’s mother. Of course, the assassinations before were infamous.

  Valek stopped and took a deep breath. “I’ve misdirected some Criollo to our suite. I want you to eat a piece whenever he does. But you’re not to tell anyone, not even the Commander. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied automatically, but my mind reeled over his calling the suite “ours.” Did I hear that right? I wondered.

  “Keep your meeting with Margg tonight. I’ll be there.”

  “Should I tell Margg’s contact about the southern delegation?”

  “No. Use the change of the Commander’s successor. It’s already floating around as a rumor, so you’ll just confirm it.” Valek strode from the room.

  In case someone would discover our training room, I hid the practice weapons, removed all visible traces of our presence and locked the door. On my way to the baths, my thoughts dwelled on the meeting tonight. Distracted, I walked by an open doorway. An oddity. In this section of the castle, most of the doors led to storerooms and were kept locked.

  Movement blurred to my left. Hands grabbed my arm and yanked me inside. The door slammed shut. Complete darkness descended. I was flung face-first against a stone wall. The air in my lungs whooshed out from the impact. I turned. My back to the wall, I gasped for breath.

  “Stay put,” a male voice growled.

  I aimed a front kick toward the voice but met air. Laughter taunted. A candle was uncovered. The weak yellow glow reflected off a long silver blade. Terrified, I traced the knife to the hand, then along the arm, and up to the face. Nix.

Chapter Twenty-One

  “W hy?” Nix placed the candle among the cobwebs lacing the tabletop. “Why am I always the smartest one?” He stepped closer.

  I kicked again, but he blocked it with ease.

  “Why haven’t my attempts to discourage you worked?” In the flicker of the candlelight he moved. The edge of his knife pressed against my throat. “Maybe I need to be more obvious?”

  The smells of boiled cabbage and body odor penetrated my nose. Keeping my body still, I asked in the most neutral and unfrightened voice I could manage, “What’s your problem?”

  “My problem is that no one sees you as a threat. But I’m smarter than Ari, Janco and Maren. I’m even smarter than Valek. Aren’t I?” When I failed to respond, Nix added pressure to the knife. “Aren’t I?”

  A thin line of pain burned across my neck. “Yes,” I replied. In the air behind Nix, Reyad’s ghost coalesced out of the dust motes, sporting a smug smile.

  “My boss wants you to stop training. I’m not allowed to kill you. Pity.” Nix stroked my face with his free hand. “I’m here to warn you off.”

  “Parffet? Why would he care?” As I tried to distract him, my mind frantically shuffled through my brief sessions with Ari on knife defense. Damn, I thought, why hadn’t I paid more attention?

  “He doesn’t care. The only thing dull-witted Parffet cares about is getting promoted. But General Brazell has a keen interest in your new hobby.” Nix thrust his free hand between my legs, and leaned his body against mine.

  For a terrified second, I froze. Panic erased all techniques of self-defense from my mind. A soft buzzing began to grow inside my head, but I stifled it, pushed it away, and it transformed into a simple musical scale of notes. Calm flowed. The necessary defense moves appeared before my eyes.

  I moaned and rocked my hips, widening my stance.

  Nix smiled with delight. “You’re just the whore I thought you’d be. Now, remember, you’re to be punished.” His upper thigh replaced his hand. He began to tug at my belt.

  I rubbed my knee between his legs then rammed it straight up into his groin. Grunting, Nix doubled over. I grabbed his blade with both hands to prevent it from biting farther into my throat. Ari’s practical voice, “Better to cut your hands than your neck,” echoed in my head even as I winced at the sharp pain. Focusing on the knife, I pushed the weapon from me. Nix stumbled back.

  “Bitch!” He snarled and pulled his arm back to swing the knife.

  As the blade swept toward me, I stepped in close to his body, so when I turned, my right shoulder brushed his chest. Using the edges of my opened hands, I struck his upper and lower arm. The combined force of my strike and his swing made Nix’s arm go limp. The weapon clattered to the floor.

  Grabbing his arm, I twisted it until the heel of his hand pointed toward the ceiling. Then I pivoted, placing my right shoulder under his elbow. With all my might, I yanked his hand down. I heard a loud crack followed by a scream as Nix’s arm broke. Spinning around to face him, I punched him twice in the nose. Blood gushed out. While he was off balance, I kicked his kneecap, breaking it. Nix crumpled to the ground.

  I danced around him, kicking him in the ribs. My blood hummed and sizzled. His weak attempts to block me only fueled my frenzy. In that state of mind, I might have killed him.

  Reyad’s ghost cheered me on. “That’s it, Yelena,” he urged. “Kill another man, and it’s the noose for sure.”

  Somehow, his words reached the rational part of my mind, and I stopped, breathing hard. Nix was still. I knelt beside him and felt for a pulse. A strong throb met my fingertips. The relief that coursed through me vanished when Nix clutched my elbow.

  I yelped and punched him in the face. His grip relaxed, and I pulled my arm free. Snatching the knife from the floor, I took Janco’s often-repeated advice for self-defense: “Hit and git.” I ran. But this time fear didn’t follow me. I ran with imaginary scarlet wings flowing behind me.

  Moving fast to ward off the shakes that threatened to overpower me, I reached the baths. They were empty at this time of day, so I hid Nix’s knife under one of the towel tables. I checked the extent of my wounds in the mirror. The cut on my neck had stopped bleeding. But two deep gashes on my palms looked serious enough to require the medic’s attention. There was also a wild, unrecognizable shine to my eyes, as if I had turned feral. I bared my teeth and thought, Now who’s the rat? Pondering my next move, I wavered. The Commander expected me to taste his dinner, but I couldn’t bleed all over his food. My initial surge of energy from the fight with Nix was waning. A wave of dizziness swelled. I headed toward the infirmary, hoping to reach it before I passed out.

  Medic Mommy gave me a quick appraisal. She pointed to an examining table. I perched on the edge and held my hands out for inspection.

  “How…” she started.

  “Broken glass,” I said.

  She nodded, lips pressed tight in thought. “I’ll get my medkit.”

  I stretched out on the bed when she returned with her metal tray full of instruments. A jar of Rand’s glue seemed out of place among the medical supplies, like a child’s toy surrounded by adult paraphernalia. My hands had started to throb, and I dreaded the medic’s ministrations. I turned my head in time to see Valek burst into the infirmary. Just what I needed, I thought, sighing. This had turned out to be one hell of a bad day.

  “What happened?” Valek demanded.

  I glanced at the medic.

  She took my right hand and began to clean my wound. “Broken glass leaves jagged lacerations. These clean slices are obviously from a knife. I’m required to report it.”

  The medic had reported me to Valek and he wasn’t going to leave without an answer. With resignation I focused on him, hoping to distract myself from the pain in my hands. “I was attacked.”

  “By who?” His tone sharp.

  I cut my eyes at the medic, and Valek understood.

  “Could you excuse us for a minute?” he asked her.

  She pursed her lips as if considering his request. Her authority overruled Valek’s for all medical situations.

  “Five minutes,” she ordered, and walked to her desk on the far side of the infirmary.

  “Who?” Valek repeated.

  “Nix, a guard in Parffet’s unit. Said he worked for Brazell and warned me to stop training.”

  “I’ll kill him.”

  The intensity of Valek’s voice shocked and alarmed me. “No, you won’t,” I said, trying to sound firm. “You’ll use him. He’s a link to Brazell.”

  His hard blue eyes found mine and held my gaze, probing deep. “Where did he attack you?”

  “A storeroom about four or five doors up from our training room.”

  “He’s probably long gone by now. I’ll send someone to the barracks.”

  “He won’t be there.”

  “Why not?” Valek gave me a look that reminded me of the Commander. His eyebrows were raised in an effort to suppress his emotions, inviting me to continue.

  “If he’s not in the storeroom, he won’t have gotten far. You might want to send a couple of men.”

  “I see.” Valek paused. “So your training has been progressing to your satisfaction?”

  “Better than expected.”

  Valek left the infirmary. Medic Mommy, the stoolie, returned to my side. Next time, I thought bitterly, I’ll heal myself and avoid being betrayed by the medic. I still had a jar of Rand’s glue in my backpack. How hard could it be to seal a couple of cuts?

  I chewed on my lower lip while she finished cleaning and sealing my cuts. Wrapping bandages tightly around my hands, she gave me instructions that would allow them to heal: no immersion in water for a day, no lifting or writing for a week. And that meant no training for a while, I thought.

  Valek’s men entered. They dumped Nix onto another examining table. The medic shot me a quizzical expression, then she bustled over to Nix’s groaning form, giving me the perfect opportunity to leave.

  I hurried to the Commander’s office, but Valek had beaten me there. He closed the door behind him as he joined me in the throne room.

  “I’ve taken care of dinner,” he said, guiding me back through the maze of desks. It was early evening, and only a handful of advisers were working.

  “Find Margg and cancel tonight’s meeting, then go back to our suite and get some rest,” he said.

  “Cancel? What for? It would look suspicious. I’ll wear gloves to cover the bandages. It’s cold enough at night; nobody will notice.” When he didn’t reply, I added, “I’m fine.”

  He smiled. “You should take a look at yourself in a mirror.” He hesitated, his face creasing in indecision. “All right. We’ll proceed as planned.”

  We stopped at the door to Valek’s office. “I have some work to finish. Rest and don’t worry. I’ll be close by tonight.” He inserted his key.

  “Valek?”

  “Yes.”

  “What will happen to Nix?”

  “We’ll patch him up, threaten him with years in the dungeon if he doesn’t cooperate, and when he’s done helping us, I’ll reassign him to MD-1. Good enough? Or should I kill him?”

  Military District 1 was the coldest, bleakest district in Ixia. The possibility of Nix falling prey to a snow cat brought a wicked grin to my face. “No. Reassignment’s good. If I had wanted him dead, I would have done it myself.”

  Valek straightened his spine, snapping me a look. A combination of surprise, amusement and wariness over my comment flashed across his face before he reined in his emotions and was once again my stone-faced Valek.

  I smiled my best Janco impression and headed down the hall. Resting would have to wait since I had a number of errands to run before the evening’s meeting. First, I needed a pair of gloves and a cloak. As the cooling season dwindled toward the cold season, the nights had turned sharp and brisk, coating everything in a blanket of ice so that the blades of grass sparkled like diamonds when touched by the morning sun.

  Thanking fate that Dilana was still in her sewing room, I chatted with her about the latest gossip before I made my request.

  “My goodness,” she said, sounding like a worried matron. “You don’t have any clothes for the cold!” She bustled about her stacks of uniforms. Her soft, honey-colored ringlets bounced with each movement. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” she admonished.

  I laughed. “I haven’t needed them till now. Dilana, do you mother everyone in the castle?”

  She stopped piling clothes to look at me. “No, dear, just the ones that need it.”

  “Thanks,” I said in a tone of affectionate sarcasm.

  By the time she was through outfitting me for the cold season, I was inundated with a heap of clothing. With all of the flannel undergarments, wool socks and heavy boots, I probably could survive on the pack ice for weeks. I stashed the pile into a corner of the room and asked Dilana to have someone deliver them to Valek’s suite.

  “Still there?” she asked with a grin.

  “For now. But I think when things settle down, I’ll be back in my old room.” When, I thought sourly. It was more like if.

  I selected a heavy black cloak from the stack, tucked black wool gloves into its deep pockets, and then draped it over my arm. The cloak had two hand-size red diamonds stitched on the left breast and an oversize hood whose function was more to keep the rain off my face than to keep my head warm.

  “I think you’ll be there a long time,” Dilana said.

  “Why?”

  “I believe Valek’s sweet on you. I’ve never seen him take such an interest in a food taster before. He usually trains them and leaves them alone. If there was any potential for trouble, he would assign one of his sneaks to spy on the taster, but he wouldn’t bother with him personally, let alone live with one!” Her face had the avid glow of a gossip at full steam.

  “You’re crazy. Deluded.”

  “In fact, he’s never taken an interest in a woman before. I was beginning to suspect he might prefer one of his male sneaks, but now…” She paused dramatically. “Now, we have the lovely, intelligent Yelena to get Valek’s cold heart pumping.”

  “You really should get out of your sewing room more. You need fresh air and a dose of reality,” I said, knowing better than to believe a word Dilana said, but unable to control the silly little grin on my face.

  Her sweet, melodious laughter followed me into the hallway. “You know I’m right,” she called.

  The only reason Valek was interested in me, I thought as I walked through the dim corridors, was because I was a puzzle for him to solve. Once he thought he had all the answers about the southern magician and Brazell, I’d be sent back to my room in the servants’ wing. I couldn’t let myself believe anything else. It was one thing for me to have a harmless infatuation that wouldn’t have any influence on my plans. It wouldn’t. Absolutely not. To think he felt the same toward me would be disastrous.

  So I tried to convince myself that Dilana, although a sweetheart, was a victim of her own overactive imagination and was mistaken. I tried very hard. I tried all the way to the kitchen. I tried when I saw Rand lurching around his ovens, reminding myself that Valek was ruthless, murdering dozens of people. The King’s blood still adorned Valek’s knife. Valek was deadly, moody and exasperating. But for some reason, I couldn’t get that silly grin to go away no matter how hard I tried.

  Draping my cloak over a stool, I helped myself to a late dinner. Rand finished spinning his pigs and pulled up a stool beside me. My mouth watered at the smell of roasting pork.

  “What’s the occasion?” I asked. Pork roast was a rare meal, requiring an entire day to cook and served only at special times.

  “Generals coming to visit this week. All my special dishes have been requested. I’ve also been ordered to prepare a feast for next week. A feast! We haven’t had one of those since…” He shook his head, pursing his lips. “Actually, we’ve never had one with the Commander in charge.” Rand sighed. “I won’t have any time to experiment.”

  “Would you have time to look at these?” Pulling a handful of the mystery beans out of my pocket, I handed them to Rand. I had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to show them to him. “I found them in an old storeroom, and I thought maybe they were your coffee beans.”

  He immediately ducked his head and took a deep sniff of the beans. “No, unfortunately not. I don’t know what these are. Coffee beans are smooth and have a rounder shape. These are oval. See? And bumpy.” Rand spread them out on the table and picked one up. He bit into it. Chewing, he cringed at the bitter taste. “I’ve never seen or tasted anything like this. Where did you find them?”

  “Somewhere on the castle’s lower level.” Oh well, I thought, it had been worth a try. My disappointment pressed on my shoulders. I had hoped to solve this puzzle for Commander Ambrose, but it looked as though I had hit another dead end.

  Rand must have sensed my frustration. “Important?” he inquired.

  I nodded.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “Leave these here and after the feast I’ll work on them for you.”

  “Work?”

  “I’ll try grinding, cooking and boiling the beans. Ingredients can change their flavor and texture when you add heat, and these might turn into something I recognize. All right?”

  “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “Nonsense. I like a challenge. Besides, after the feast, it’ll be back to my daily routine anyhow, and this will give me a project to look forward to.” He funneled the beans into a jar, and placed it high on a shelf full of other strange edibles similarly encased in their own glass jars.

  We discussed menu options for the feast until Rand needed to turn his pigs again. A quarter turn every hour, he said, reminding me that my time to meet Margg was fast approaching. A small pang of nervousness touched my stomach as I bade Rand good-night.

  I stopped by the baths, intending to retrieve Nix’s knife, but there were too many people there. Maybe being unarmed would be for the best, I told myself as I tried to calm the butterflies in my stomach. Maybe they would search me. If they found a weapon, I might be in more trouble.

  Margg wore her usual expression of distaste when I met her just past the south gate of the castle complex. We exchanged insults by way of greeting and continued the walk into Castletown in silence. I hoped Valek was close behind, but I knew better than to glance over my shoulder and make Margg wary.

  Stars decorated the night sky, and the full face of the moon shone brightly, casting shadows. The road to town was grooved with ruts from wagon wheels and worn smooth by the passage of many boots. I took a deep breath of the cool night air and felt a sense of renewal as the heavy scent of earth and dried leaves cleansed my lungs.

  At the outskirts of town, I saw neat rows of four-story wooden buildings. I was struck by their symmetry. I had grown so accustomed to the wild, asymmetrical style of the castle, with its windows of every geometric shape, that the ordinary plainness of the town seemed bizarre. Even the placement of businesses among the residences had been planned in a logical manner.

  The few townspeople that I spotted on the street walked with a purpose. Nobody hung about, or talked, or looked as if they were out for a casual stroll. Nobody, except the town’s guards.

  Soldiers who had once played a major part in the takeover had been reassigned as policemen for the towns throughout the Territory of Ixia. Enforcing curfew and the dress code, they dealt justice in accordance with the Code of Behavior by checking papers, arranging transfers and making arrests. Every visitor to each town was required to report to the main station to complete the proper paperwork before seeking lodging.

  Our meeting had been carefully scheduled to give us time to return to the castle before our presence on the street would be viewed with suspicion. The pairs of soldiers stationed on the streets followed us with their gazes. I felt my skin prickle under their scrutiny, and I had myself half convinced that they would swoop down on us at any moment.

  In the middle of a street free from guards, Margg came to a stop at a house indistinguishable from its neighbors. She knocked twice on the door. After a pause, the door swung inward and a tall, red-haired woman in an innkeeper’s uniform poked her head out. Glancing at Margg, she nodded in recognition. She had a sharp, sloping nose, which guided the movements of her head as she pointed her face at me. Her dark eyes rested upon me with an intensity that made me want to fidget. A bead of sweat trickled down my spine. Finally, she pulled her nose away to look down the street. Sniffing for a trap, I guessed. Apparently satisfied, she opened the door wider and let us in. Still no one spoke as we proceeded up three flights of steps.