Chapter Nineteen #2
It doesn’t change the way I feel about him, but I’d like to understand it. What it means, how to control it. Maybe it truly is the extraordinary power that Seth thinks it is.
Maybe it’s the key to winning the war. “Lead the way. I’ll be your shadow.”
“Sylvie,” Ronan says with affection, his face lighting up. “Was that a terrible joke?”
“Maybe.” I dart my eyes to the side coyly.
“A very good effort. ‘Light’ the way was right there, though. Six out of ten. Good, but not groan-worthy.”
“I’ll give you something to groan about in a minute,” I say, throwing my pillow at him.
“There you go again, threatening me with a good time.”
The white towers and golden dome of the Alchemists’ Guild rise in the morning mist as we climb the hill along the riverbank in the royal carriage.
The Guild is near enough to the palace that we could have walked, but Ronan insists that coming in the carriage will set the right tone, reminding the Guild members of his power and authority.
They do seem suitably terrified of him as they greet him on the lustrous steps, bowing deeply in their brown robes, their Guild medallions hanging from their necks like garrotes.
“Your majesty,” says a tall woman with white hair. Her medallion is different from the others—the swirling etched pattern is enclosed in a sun-shaped ring. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“I remember you,” says Ronan. “You’re the one who helped me wake Taran.” He gestures back to his guard, having given Taran a much-needed break from babysitting my terrible brother.
“Thank you, ma’am,” says Taran with a bow.
“Of course. Happy to be of help. Warden Hypatia of House Santori, acting Guild Mistress.” She bows again.
House Santori. I recognize that name. It takes me a minute to place it, but then I remember. Linus of House Santori was my competitor in the archery tournament. He was the one who was killed.
From what I heard during the aftermath, House Santori is one of the most loyal houses to House Alta, Ronan’s Royal House. I have no doubt Hypatia was chosen for that very reason.
“Of course,” says Ronan. “Cyrus told me who the Guild had selected. I just didn’t realize it was you. Thank you for your help. It came at a very critical time.”
“So I’ve heard,” says Hypatia, looking at me. “I’m afraid I must apologize to you on behalf of the entire Guild, Sylvara. I had no knowledge of the secret work Zara was conducting or what it entailed. I assure you, if I had, I would have found a way to stop it.”
Her expression is sincere enough, but although I typically correct my name, I decide to let her use “Sylvara.” I think of what Ronan said about projecting power and authority. Perhaps I should keep my nickname for the people closest to me.
“I appreciate that,” I say to Hypatia without elaboration.
“Please, come in out of this cold. You’d think summer was being chased, the way it ran out of here.”
It is chilly today, especially so close to the Mara.
I almost put on one of my quilted Nithyrian doublets when we were getting dressed, but I don’t want to give the wrong impression during wartime.
The servants found a dress in heavy silk brocade in my preferred blue, but I refused it as well.
Not because the dress wasn’t lovely, but because it hardly seemed the best choice for sneaking around the Guild sight unseen.
In the end, I settled on a thinner silk and linen ensemble in black that matches Ronan’s, looking every bit his consort.
“This is the reception hall,” says Hypatia, walking briskly.
She’s nervous, and understandably so. The Guild is swarming with Ronan’s guards.
Their uniforms of chainmail and black capes outnumber the brown cloaks two to one at least, and judging by Hypatia’s reaction when she nearly runs into a young male guard that steps into her path, she hates having them here.
“The dome was constructed in limestone like the rest of the building originally, but the gold leaf was added during the rule of King Helius V.” Ronan’s grandfather, the king who was in charge when the gold alchemy breakthrough happened.
The one who started the chain of events that led to Nithyria’s rebellion.
“A total of ten pounds of leaf was required to coat both the interior and exterior.”
“And how much ash did that take?” I can’t help but ask.
Hypatia’s lips tighten into something between a smile and a scowl.
“Ah, Miss Sylvara. As I’m sure you’re aware, the exact refinement process is a closely guarded secret.
If knowledge of the quantities of ingredients required in the alchemical process were common knowledge, Selara would lose its advantage in gold production. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course,” I say, trying not to choke on the words.
Ronan takes my hand and squeezes it, sensing my anger.
“I didn’t mean to suggest you reveal your secrets to me.
I was just looking for an approximate figure so that I could have an appreciation for the true cost of the dome.
” I emphasize the words “true cost” very lightly, showing remarkable restraint, I think, considering that the cost was paid in Nithyrian lives.
In severe injuries in the forests harvesting the ash.
In the wars we’ve fought and are continuing to fight so that the dome could be gilded inside and out.
“Even that would be revealing too much, I’m afraid. But I’d be happy to show you more of how we make our healing elixirs. The refinement processes for those are some of the most advanced in the world. I doubt even the Guild of Changan has a more efficient process in terms of material cost.”
“Lead the way,” says Ronan.
I’m not certain how I’m meant to do much spying with the acting Guild Mistress herself leading our tour and approximately one million of Ronan’s own guards hanging about.
And beyond the open hall containing the dome, the Guild itself is as labyrinthine as the palace, all twisting narrow corridors and a seemingly endless number of doors to rooms that could be hiding all manner of secrets.
It’s a shadow-born’s paradise, or it could have been if they hadn’t literally chained us up and drained us of our blood in the name of their science.
It also doesn’t help that Hypatia seems hesitant to let us talk to any of the other alchemists.
I try asking one of them a question about their use of thyme in an elixir that helps with breathing, and Hypatia answers me instead.
I begin to suspect that her choice as Guild Mistress wasn’t merely a coincidence or due to her House, but that she was chosen specifically because of her positive relationship with the king.
Ronan, for his part, seems less suspicious of her than I am, or perhaps he’s better at hiding it.
His charm is working at its maximum capacity, and I begrudgingly have to admit that I see the benefit of it when he has her laughing so hard at one of his bad jokes that he’s able to slip in the real reason for our visit, catching her almost completely off guard.
“What do you know about treating someone who is shadowbound?”
Hypatia’s laughter pauses and then resumes nervously after a strange little gap. “I’m not certain I know what that is. Can you describe the affliction?”
She’s lying. I know it immediately, not just from the way she asks, but from the fear that’s pouring off of her. Fear that she’s feeling so strongly that I can sense it just as I felt Prima’s fear when she was being attacked.
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about it myself, only that we found it in Zara’s writings. We thought it might have had something to do with her research into magic suppression.”
“Yes,” says Hypatia, touching her temple. “I’m remembering now. Lord Cyrus said as much. I gave him all of her work. I didn’t work with her closely enough to know what she was working on. I’m afraid if there’s any answer to be had, it will be in her notes. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye in the back of the refining room. A young man stirring the steaming contents of a cauldron lifts his head and quickly lowers it again.
Ronan sees my look and glances at me meaningfully, his feelings telling me what I already know: the boy knows something.
“Now, if you’re ready, allow me to show you the silphium laboratory. It’s truly my favorite of our processes.”
As we’re leaving the room, I drop my mother’s ring on a rug. Then I wait until we turn the corner into another hall before acting. “I lost my ring,” I say, my voice quietly urgent. “It’s not here.”
“Taran, go with her to search,” says Ronan.
“It can’t have gone far. I can help you look,” says Hypatia, scanning the ground.
“No need,” says Ronan. “Taran is a skilled hunter. They can catch up to us. Tell me more about the triple washing process—how ever did they figure out such a thing?” He winks at me as he leads Hypatia away.
She glances at me nervously, but she must decide there’s little I can do with a Royal Guard with me, and she really can’t afford to defy the king if she wants to keep her position long.
“The ring is over there,” I tell Taran when we’re back in the room. “If you can, buy me a little time.”
“Understood, ma’am.”
I make a beeline for the young boy at the cauldron. A couple of others look up as I approach him, but they know better than to interfere with a member of the court.
“You know something about the shadowbound. Tell me quickly. We don’t have long.”
The boy swallows, his thin white throat bobbing. “I—I don’t know what you mean.”
“Spare me your lies,” I say. I lift the hem of my silk tunic, revealing the dagger looped in my belt. “Don’t make me have to persuade you.”