Chapter 30
thirty
Isahn parries.
“You know,” Hildy began as they wandered the corridors of Staridge the following morning, hopping from gallery to gallery, searching for the tapestry, “I like your sister.”
“You said that when we arrived.”
“Ah, yeah.” She waved him off, stopping before a weaving with vibrant, interlaced geometric designs. “This looks Gramenian in origin.”
“Agreed. I don’t think that’s the one we want.”
“Lia’s very pretty,” Hildy continued. “Quite charming. I can see why you were disconcerted when George dressed up like a curly blonde with blue eyes to question you.”
He paused in the middle of the hall, his brow furrowed. “I don’t remember th—”
A familiar tilting sensation, like rocking in a tiny boat on tumultuous waves, tumbled the contents of his stomach. He recalled shackles, a dank room, a dark-skinned guard with puffy white hair. Another, a less stoic woman, pale, with features like his sister’s, but so very, very different.
Roses and patchouli.
He’d shown her how to cut him down, how to fight through his magic.
It earned him some semblance of trust. “Come on, you look like my sister. It’s weird,” he’d said, and she threw him into the stars.
Then he’d drenched her, washing away the mirages she insisted on wearing.
That was the first time he’d seen her, really seen her, curvaceous and soft with a halo of gentle frizz coating her black curls. George.
Hildy studied him as his memories rushed in, pooling and settling into the dried-out nooks and crannies of his mind.
“How do you know about that?” he finally asked, finding he’d braced a palm on the head of a bust for support. He patted the stone tresses, then continued to the next wall hanging.
“George tells me everything, we’re best friends.” She shrugged. “I think that one’s too new. It’s pretty though.”
“I agree.”
“My point was, I can sort of understand why you felt so awkward when she donned a mask that reminded you of your sister. I mean, if all that crap she feeds me about your attraction is true.” Her disbelief was evident in her unconcealed eye roll.
“What are you talking about?” He pointed to another tapestry, and Hildy just shook her head.
As they proceeded down to the level below, Hildy explained, “Georgie claimed it was instantaneous. She said she magnetized to you from the moment she saw you in Sorhaven. She got huffy when you were on the bad side.”
“I was never on the ‘bad side.’” Pulling Hildy away from a corridor that only displayed oil paintings, he guided her toward the lower level of the estate.
“I know, but you know what I mean. She claims it’s part of why she was quick to trust you—she just knew.”
“That makes sense. I was drawn to her before I saw her real face.”
“Oh, bullshit.”
He drew his brows together and gave Hildy an incredulous look. “Why?”
“Attraction builds over time. Her story is passably believable, I guess—but only because she’s such a good judge of character. How could you have known you were attracted to George if you’d never actually seen her face? It’s not possible.”
“It is possible, because I’ve lived it. Maybe her scent? She smells like roses and patchouli.”
Hil pursed her lips and stepped up to another wall hanging, this one a map of Duhra with silvery threaded creatures in the seas.
“No, my grandfather commissioned that one. And I’m just saying, in my experience, attraction’s almost always instant and not always appropriate.
” Wandering the perimeter of the lower gallery, Isahn stopped before a fraying tapestry depicting a young woman and man against a solid black backdrop.
She was surrounded by filigrees of gold, and he by a pattern of dots and circles—or were those eyes?
Isahn pointed, silently asking Hildy her opinion.
Continuing, he argued, “It’s a shiver when they walk into the room.
They’re the most delicious thing you’ve ever smelled.
You crave physical contact, even if they’re a near-stranger.
You stare, look where you shouldn’t, often when you shouldn’t.
That’s attraction... to me. Compatibility’s a whole other issue.
” He and George had sorted that out later.
“But our attraction was there from the start. Not sure she would’ve fought so hard to release me if she thought I was ugly. ”
Hildy snorted at his final remarks, but her brows pulled together in consternation as she considered his words or the wall-hanging, he wasn’t sure which.
“Look.” Hildy traced a line around the border. “This is Old Domossan, I think.”
“Wait, really? Those are letters?” He snagged a candlestick from one of the wall sconces and carried it over. Though it was morning, the lower gallery was dim. He liked to think of it as the storage spot for the bad art. Who knew it was so important?
“Be careful with that,” she scolded as he held his flame close to the fabric.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s only the fate of Domos you’re risking if you burn it.”
He pulled the candle back a bit. But it was letters, Hildy was right. “Well, fuck, I think we found it.”
“It’s certainly old.”
“And that means nothing to me.” He pointed out the same letters she’d identified. “I thought it was a pattern.”
“I wish we had some way of knowing for sure. We should’ve smuggled Ean along to translate.”
He chortled. “I’m not sure Selwas is ready for the likes of Ean. So, what do we do with it? Take it down? Hang a different one in the same spot?”
“No. We leave it to bait Peros, and we set up a watch.”
He gestured down a dark corridor where he knew his staff was stationed. “It’s done.”
“Overnights, I think it should be one of us.”
“Agreed.” He didn’t want to put that pressure on his staff. “Starting when?”
“A night or two out should be good. Peros was two days behind us, I think.”
“Most likely.”
“Perfect. So what’s next?” She rubbed a thumb into her temple. “I thought that would take us longer than it did.”
“Should we get ready for a fight?”
“Of course.”
“Why did we never do this in Domos?” Isahn rushed Hildy again.
“No time. You were otherwise occupied.”
“With Georgie, you mean?” He laughed and shanked her in the side with a blunt-tipped shortsword. “She doesn’t train. Her father never allowed it.”
She grunted. “Your memory has vastly improved.”
“Thanks to you, I think. I’ve noticed you prodding me.”
“Pulling out bricks.” Hildy dropped low and spun behind Isahn quicker than he could react. Her training sword smacked across the back of his knees, sending him to the floor—hard.
“Damn, I’m out of practice.” He panted, blinking at the glossy wood planks.
“You’re dead,” she replied, pressing her knee into his back and sliding her wooden blade against his neck.
“Brother!” Solaelia’s voice rang out from the observation gallery.
Hildy and he looked up, and Lia beckoned them over like she could tug them through the air, onto the balcony beside her.
“Meet me in the solar!”
“Upper or lower?”
“Upper,” Lia called.
“Food?”
“Obviously.”
“We’ll be right there.”
“Hurry. I’m starting without you.” With that, his sister floated away, and Hildy chuckled as they prepared to follow along.
“This room is astounding, it’s like a courtyard with a ceiling,” Hildy commented as Isahn directed her through the glass-walled atrium toward the solarium.
Some great houses considered the two rooms one and the same, but Staridge had to go and be different.
The atrium was a spacious room located below the ballroom on the ground floor.
The upper solar was off the left side of the atrium, and the lower solar was yet another steamy sun-warmed room full of exotic plants elsewhere in the manor. It was confusing—like the galleries.
“It’s magnificent, isn’t it? Huge glass panels like this are only possible when skilled mages work together.
The craft involves all four elements. It’s amazing to witness.
My mum put a lot of effort into bringing plant specimens from Gramenia and Domos.
I’ve hired staff to keep it up the way she would’ve wanted,” he explained, stopping before a door tucked between two potted figs. “And this is the solar.”
They entered to find Solaelia, a single sunflower in a tropical garden, her hair a golden bloom surrounded by palms and vibrant flowers. Sitting at the room’s round table, she enjoyed a plate heaped with eggs and an array of fruits. As promised, Lia had started without them.
“Come, eat. I have news.” She gestured to the five open chairs, indicating they should pick one.
Isahn couldn’t help but notice relinquishing her role as mistress of the house wasn’t coming as easily to her as she seemed to have expected. That, or she enjoyed being accommodating too much.
Either way, he didn’t mind.
“News about Peros?” Hildy asked, helping herself to a few slices of pre-buttered toast.
Lia nodded softly, her palm covering her mouth while she finished chewing a piece of melon. She set down her fork. “Guli and Zaman—those are two of our guards, trained soldiers—spotted Peros on the property last night.”
Isahn sighed heavily. Here we go. “He’s back early. He must’ve ridden hard. Where did they see him?”
“He came in through the north wood. They would have stopped him at the property line, but I’ve directed the guards to track, not capture, unless he starts actively harming someone. Then they can have at him.”
Hildy nodded, impressed with the move.
“They followed him around to the east woods. He was watching either the library or the kitchens below, Zaman couldn’t say for sure. He stayed for a few hours before leaving the way he’d come.”
Isahn sucked his teeth. “Great. I suppose it’s time to start those guard shifts, huh?”
“It sounds like he was scouting that side of the house for some reason. What else is over there?” Hildy asked.
Isahn thought from the top story down. “Guest bedrooms, guest bedrooms, a sitting room, the library, and the kitchens. There’s an entrance down there, near the kitchen, but it leads to closets.”