Текст книги "Of Beast and Beauty "

Автор книги: Stacey Jay

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my face, finding no joy in the wind that whips it back into my eyes.

“There are,” he says. “Would you like me to have those delivered to

your rooms?”

“Yes, right away.” I try to feel optimistic about what I’ll learn in the

texts, but I can’t. Something deep inside insists that all I’ll find in those

writings are more lies.

I have to find the covenant. I have to discover where it was hidden so

long ago, and I can think of only one place to look for help, one thing that’s

been around for more than six hundred years and still has eyes to see.

The roses have deceived me as often as anyone else has, but tonight

I’ll make it clear that I won’t tolerate lies. They will give me what I

want—the truth and nothing but—or I will … I will …

Or I will refuse them their offering.

Even the thought is enough to make my head spin and my heart

thrash against my ribs, but I can’t help but think …

What if the stories of Gem’s people are true? If so, wouldn’t my

people be better off in the desert? Better off transformed than forced to

live with missing pieces? The nobles and soldiers and some of the

merchants are still whole, but the overwhelming majority of my people are

suffering, not thriving, under the dome.

Maybe if Yuan is abandoned, if the other domed cities are

abandoned as well … Maybe if we all go into the desert together …

Maybe I don’t have to die. Maybe Gem was right. Maybe there is

another way.

The thought should renew my flagging hope, but it doesn’t. My

entire life I have been afraid to die, but at least I thought I had something

worth dying for.

Now I have … nothing. A terrible mess I don’t know how to clean up,

and the certainty that I will find no help from those in power in this city.

The whole have beauty, pleasure, comfort, and abundance, and they’ve

convinced themselves they deserve it. Because they are more human than

the people who suffer in the city center, or the Banished in their lonely

camp, or the monsters starving in the desert.

I’ll never be able to convince them differently. Yuan will never

change, not unless I can find proof that something is wrong with the city.

The nobles are spoiled and soft and inclined to gossip, but they are not evil

people. I must convince them that Yuan is rotten at its core. I must find the

covenant and discover why it was hidden away.

BO

THE morning lasts forever. The afternoon is even longer. By the time

I finally sit down on the carved wooden bench outside the court meeting

chambers, I’m exhausted.

Isra insisted on seeing every part of the Banished camp—the

shelters, the feeding troughs, the burial pit, even the trench filled with their

bodily waste. It was … unspeakably repulsive.

The other soldiers stayed at the perimeter with the guards charged

with keeping the Banished contained in their corner of Yuan, but I was

forced to walk among them. I couldn’t leave Isra’s side for a moment, not if

I want to be seen as her equal, and, someday soon, her better.

Today’s insanity shouldn’t make that very hard.

What kind of queen willingly walks among the Banished? What kind

of queen tries to talk to people who aren’t much more than monsters, and

all of them out of what’s left of their minds?

Even Isra learned that quickly enough. By the time the fourth or fifth

Banished ran, screaming nonsense when she tried to approach, she learned

to keep her distance. Still, she refused to leave right away. She stayed and

asked questions about their treatment, their feeding schedule, their living

arrangements, and, finally, why the Banished weren’t allowed into the city

center with the rest of the people, since many of them seemed less

damaged, physically anyway, than the people she’d seen there.

I was shocked that she needed an explanation.

It’s obvious to anyone with eyes—even new eyes—that the Banished

display Monstrous traits. They have patches of scales and huge teeth and

hands with pieces of claws exposed outside their skin. They creep and crawl

and cower like the beasts they are. They run from any whole citizen in fear,

sensing, I suppose, in some part of their wretched brains, that we are their

enemies. That they are our enemies, that the Monstrous they resemble

want to destroy us, and our way of life, forever.

“They’re lucky we let them live,” I finally said, too astonished by Isra’s

complaints about the mistreatment of the creatures to mind my tongue.

“Other cities smother them at birth. Or put them outside the gates to

starve. Or worse. We are the gentlest of the domed cities, Isra. We always

have been.”

Isra went pale at that, as if she couldn’t imagine anything more

terrible. She’s spent too much time with that creature. It’s more clever than

most—it speaks our words and plays at being like us—but the beast is feral

beneath the façade. It plots the downfall of our city. I can sense it. I saw it

in his face last night on Isra’s balcony. He wanted nothing more than to kill

me, the way his people have killed mine for centuries, though I have done

nothing but treat him with a civility a prisoner scarcely deserves.

But he’ll be taken care of soon enough. I spoke with Father before

Isra went into his meeting chamber to discuss her tour of the city. He

agreed the Monstrous would have to be disposed of as soon as I am made

king of Yuan. The safety he affords isn’t worth the risk he poses. The entire

court has been on edge since the day Isra insisted on working with the

creature. He hasn’t hurt her yet, but we’d be fools to think he isn’t planning

to. We’ll kill him before he gets the chance and deal with the—

“Yes, I agree.” Isra’s voice drifts from the shade of the arbor covering

the front entrance to the court offices. In the spring, purple flowers will

hang down far enough to tickle the top of her hair as she walks beneath.

Bees will hum and the air will be warm and sweet and we will be married.

And I will have the power to tell her to go to her tower and stay there

if she refuses to listen to reason.

The thought makes it easier to smile as she emerges into the watery

afternoon light, followed closely by my father. He’s dressed in his faded

amber advisor’s robe, the one with the slightly frayed sleeves worn by

three generations of chief advisors to the royals of Yuan. The robe softens

his rough edges, makes him seem more approachable than his soldier’s

uniform.

I’m sure the choice of clothing is no coincidence. He wanted Isra to

feel comfortable with him today, to feel confident that he was listening to

her concerns and opinions.

“I’ll start organizing the documents at once,” Father says, stopping

less than a foot away, but not cutting his eyes in my direction. He tilts his

head back to look Isra full in the face, as if he has never found anyone more

enrapturing. “I’ll send them to the tower for your review as soon as they’re

finished.”

“And when will that be?” Isra asks, fingers twirling absent-mindedly

at her sides the way they have all day. I grit my teeth and force my eyes

away from her fidgeting. It’s enough to drive me mad. If I’d fidgeted like

that as a child, my father would have bound my hands in cotton. “I want to

start the process as soon as possible. Things can’t continue as they have.”

“Certainly not.” Father nods, but I see his eyebrows draw tightly

together. “I’ll have the first drafts of the amendments to the code drawn by

late tomorrow. The next day at the latest.”

“That isn’t soon enough.” Isra’s fingers move even faster, tracing an

elaborate, repeating pattern I can’t begin to sort out. “I need them sooner.

At least the amendment related to the treatment of the Banished. I’d like

to see a draft of that tonight.”

“Tonight it is, then.” Father’s forehead smoothes, and the hint of a

smile gentles his lips. He looks as pleasant as he ever does—even more so,

actually—but I’m not fooled. “I’ll work through dinner and have the

amendment delivered to you in the great hall as soon as I’m finished. The

texts you requested on the covenant should already be waiting in your

rooms. I ordered them sent before we sat down to chat.”

“Thank you.” Isra’s breath rushes out, and her fingers finally still.

“But have the amendment sent to my rooms as well, please. I won’t eat in

the hall tonight. I need some time. Alone. It’s been quite a day.”

“Indeed.” Father smiles. “I’ve never discussed this many

amendments to our code of law in the course of a year, let alone one

afternoon.”

Isra bites her lip and shoots Father a wary look from beneath her

long lashes. “I know this must seem strange, but I’m certain this is right,

and the only way to move forward. I think Baba … what he did … giving me

the herbs for all those years …”

“Your baba loved you very much,” Father says, apparently not

minding if Isra uses childish words. “Never doubt that.”

“I know. I believe he did,” she whispers in a trembling voice, but

when she lifts her chin, her expression is calm, strong. “I was shocked, at

first, but I think the choice Father made was for the best. He gave me fresh

eyes. He allowed me to see Yuan and our people in a way those who have

lived in the midst of this … confusion no longer can. Being an outsider, and

ignorant of many things, has allowed me to see where our city has gone

astray.”

Father inclines his head in a gesture so subservient, it makes my jaw

drop. “An interesting and wise perspective.”

Isra glances my way, and I hurry to return her hopeful smile. “Thank

you,” she says, turning back to Father. “I’m glad we could come to an

agreement, and I’m grateful for your support. I know the other advisors will

find the changes easier if you’re there by my side when I announce them.”

“Certainly,” Father says. “Change, even drastic change, can

sometimes be the only way to move forward.”

Isra’s smile is … dazzling, and for a moment I remember why I wanted

to marry her. She’s lovely in her happiness. So lovely it makes me ill to

know this moment isn’t what she thinks it is. I know my father hasn’t been

won over so easily. I know, even before he puts a hand on my shoulder and

says, “Bo, would you join me in my chamber? I have some business I’d like

you to attend to while I draft the amendments Isra and I discussed.” He

shifts his attention to Isra with another kindly smile. “If that’s acceptable,

my lady? If you’d rather Bo escort you back to your rooms first, then—”

“No, no, don’t worry about me,” Isra says, her smile still lighting her

face. “I have my guards, and Needle is waiting for me.” She watches with a

satisfied expression as Father and I bow. “Until later.”

And then she turns and glides away, the confidence in her new walk

making her seem like a different person from the girl who scurried across

the field to her tower rooms a week ago. I watch her greet her guards, with

a hint of guilt worming its way into my heart. I told myself I didn’t care

about the queen anymore, but I can’t help but feel bad for her, to fear for

her.

She’s barely out of sight when my fears are confirmed.

“We’ll have the wedding tomorrow,” Father whispers. “Prepare

yourself. It might be an unpleasant ceremony.”

“But her period of mourning isn’t over.” Mourning rituals are strictly

observed in our city. It’s bad luck to go against them, such bad luck that the

advisors decided it was better to leave Isra unmarried for several months

rather than go against the grieving customs.

“I know, and it may bring dark days to Yuan to have her married

while still wearing green, but there’s no help for it. The girl is out of her

mind.” Father waves a weary hand through the air. “The other advisors

were listening in on my conversation with Isra. They sent this just before

the conclusion of our meeting.” He hands me a note on parchment paper,

written in the unmistakable cramped, slanted hand of Tai, the late king’s

oldest advisor and the man second in power only to my father.

The girl has fallen prey to her mother’s weakness. She is no longer fit

to rule. Arrange for the marriage to your son to take place tomorrow

morning. We’ll compel the union if we must. The law allows it in cases like

these. We must secure the safety of our city first. Once a new king sits on

the throne, we’ll decide how best to keep Isra safe from herself.

“They think she’s mad?” I ask, shocked, though I shouldn’t be. I’ve

had similar thoughts all day, but when the word “insane” flitted through my

head, I didn’t mean it. Not really. Isra is odd and stubborn and strange, no

doubt, but she’s not out of her mind. At least not in a dangerous way. “But,

Father, I don’t—”

“You should have heard her, Son,” Father says with a sigh, plucking

the parchment from my fingers. “She wants to put an end to the Banished

camp and bring those pitiful creatures into the city center to live with our

people.”

I lean in, certain I’ve heard him wrong. “But she saw them. They’re

animals. They barely speak our language, they lack the sense to keep their

waste in the assigned trench, and ran from us every—”

“She thinks they’re afraid.” Father sighs again before shuffling over

to the bench and easing himself down. He looks older than he ever has

before, as if the meeting with Isra has aged him ten years. More. “She saw

bruises on their bodies. She thinks the guards beat them, and that’s why

they run from whole citizens.”

“They beat them because they attack each other,” I say, pacing in

front of the bench. “They’d tear each other apart if the guards didn’t keep

them in line.”

Father lifts his hands in the air. “I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t

listen to reason. She thinks the Banished could learn to speak our language

and behave properly if they received different treatment.”

“She’s stubborn.” I curse myself for not making the facts clearer to

her. I’m willing to go against her wishes once we’re married, but I wanted

our marriage to be her decision. I know Isra well enough now to realize that

marriage to her won’t be pleasant if she’s forced into it. “Let me talk to her.

Maybe I can convince her to change her mind.”

“It isn’t only the Banished,” Father says. “She wants to improve

conditions for the commoners in the city center as well. She wants to build

more housing and provide nurses for those with the worst deformities and

no family to care for them.”

Now it’s my turn to sigh. “Where will we get the resources to build?

We can’t cut down trees. We need them to refresh the air.”

Father shakes his head. “She thinks we should tear down the king’s

cottage and a number of the other noble cottages and use those

materials.”

“What?” I laugh. The idea is ridiculous. “And where would the nobles

without homes live? In the barns with their horses?”

“She thinks the noble families can learn to be comfortable sharing a

home with another family.”

“She what? She’s out—” I almost say “out of her mind,” but bite my

tongue at the last moment. “She doesn’t understand. She’s been kept

separate from our people. She doesn’t know how things work or that no

one is bothered by it but her. At least give me one day to make her see

reason.”

Father’s head stays down when his eyes lift, emphasizing the brown

shadows beneath his eyes. He’s exhausted, and I can’t help but feel

responsible. If I hadn’t told Isra to stop drinking her tea, all of this could

have been avoided. “She also wants to send food into the desert,” Father

says. “To the Monstrous tribes.”

It’s as if he’s struck me. “She … she doesn’t. She can’t.”

“She says she’ll send the Monstrous boy with a wagon. She believes

he’ll come back if he’s released.”

Exhaustion settles in my bones, and I wish Father would ask me to sit

beside him. There’s no hope, then. Isra might not be mad, but she’s

wandered too far outside the realm of what even I will tolerate. The

Monstrous deserve nothing from our city. Isra’s ideas are too radical, and

she herself is too different to be good for Yuan.

“I’m sorry,” Father says as he rises from the bench to stand beside

me. “I know you had hopes for a different sort of marriage, but I was

prepared for this from the beginning. Your mother and I will help you

through the ceremony, and everything that comes after.”

“What do you mean?”

“She can’t be allowed her freedom,” he says, regret clear in his eyes.

“She’s a danger to herself and to the people. To the city itself. We’ll have to

keep her contained in the tower.”

I nod, but my stomach roils inside me. I threatened to lock her away

myself, but I didn’t really mean it. I don’t want my wife to be a prisoner. If

only Isra could see reason. If only she could be less … Isra.

“It won’t be too terrible for her,” Father says, as if sensing how much

I loathe the idea. “She’s spent most of her life there. She’ll have her

entertainments and her maid as her companion, and you may visit her

anytime you wish.”

“She won’t want me to visit her. She’ll hate me.”

“No, she’ll hate me.” Father grips my shoulder. “Let me bear this

burden. I’ll make it clear this is my decision, not yours.”

“No, it’s my fault. All of it. If I hadn’t told her—”

“If you hadn’t given her sight, we would have had more time,” Father

says. “But the end would have been the same. I knew that, Bo. I knew it the

day she insisted on working side by side with a monster that could kill her

in an instant. She’s put the entire city at risk. She’s selfish and childish, at

best. At worst, she’s on the path to becoming as mad as her mother.” He

sighs, and his arm drops to his side. “The king should never have married an

outsider.”

“Were all the people of New Persia mad?” I know the story—that

King Yuejihua married a woman from across the planet who arrived in the

last of her people’s flying carriages, fleeing a city on the verge of collapse in

the wake of Monstrous attack—but I never thought to wonder anything

more.

“No, not that I know of. It was a small city, but they kept their

technology functioning throughout the centuries,” he says, motioning to

the servant waiting in the shadows beneath the arbor, indicating we’re in

need of drink. “In the beginning, the king was more interested in the

technology than the wife. He wanted to see what our ancestors had given

up when they’d adopted our more primitive way of life. He agreed to marry

the king of New Persia’s youngest daughter only if the flying machine used

to deliver her was also his to keep.”

“He kept the flying machine?” What would it be like to see

something like that? Something from long ago, built on another world?

“Where is it?”

Father’s brows lift, clearly disapproving of my interest in the

machines our ancestors chose for us to live without. They believed

technology was evil and led to the destruction of our old planet.

“It’s in pieces,” he says. “Its parts put to other uses. The New

Persians failed to send fuel. Without it, the machine was useless. There was

no way to lift it off the ground, or to send Queen Kanya back to where

she’d come from.” He turns, fetching a goblet of peach juice from the tray

the servant has brought. When the tray is shifted before me, I wave it

away. I’m thirsty, but it seems wrong to sip something sweet at a time like

this. “But by then the king didn’t want to send her away,” Father continues.

“Kanya was a beautiful woman. Very tall, bold-featured. Nothing like our

women, but beautiful. As Isra is beautiful. And she was kind and gentle,

before the madness took her.”

I think on that for a moment, of Isra’s mother, and madness, and

beauty, and other things passed down from parents to their children.

“There will be no children for Isra and me,” I say, unable to imagine Isra

tolerating me in her bed.

“It’s for the best,” Father says. “Better to wait and try to be a true

husband with your second wife.”

My second wife. I haven’t even taken my first. It’s … too much. I can’t

think about it. Not now. I’ll think about it tomorrow night, when Isra and I

are married and I am king. Surely all of this will seem more manageable

then.

“If you don’t need me, I’ll go back to the barracks,” I say, with a deep

breath. “I could use some time to myself.”

“Go. I’ll have dinner sent to your room.” He drains the last of the

liquid. “After dinner, we’ll discuss how you’d like to take care of the other

matter.”

“The other matter?”

“The Monstrous.” He holds out his goblet. The servant and tray

magically appear to claim it and whisk it away. “You should kill it tonight.

Now that Isra’s been deemed incompetent, there’s no reason to wait. The

marriage will go forward with or without her consent.”

I swallow. I didn’t think Father would expect me to kill the Monstrous

myself, but I should have. “You’re right,” I say, refusing to show how

unnerved I am by the prospect of slaughtering the beast, the night before

my wedding no less. “I’ll choose my best men. We’ll go to the creature’s

rooms tonight and … kill it in its sleep. If possible.”

Father smiles, that same smile from last night, the one that assures

me he’s proud of who I’m becoming. “A wise plan. And a merciful one.” His

voice is as silky as it was when he praised Isra for her keen perception, and

for a moment I wonder …

I stop the thought before it can find its other half. I don’t wonder

anything. I know what must be done and I will do it, and come tomorrow

night, all the terrible things will be over.

TWENTY-TWO