Alien Chronicles 1 - The Golden One (29 page)

Dismayed, Ampris ran to her and stroked her rill, trying to make it lower. “No, no,” she said, trying to soothe Israi’s distress. “It cannot happen. It will not happen. You are his favorite. He has named you so. He will not change.”

“But
she
fills his eyes now,” Israi said, making a rasping sound in the back of her throat. The variegated skin of green and blue around her eyes turned pale. “It is she he sends for. I have not spoken to him since she came.”

“That will soon change,” Ampris assured her. “We have seen to that.”

Israi nodded, trying to control her breathing. She gripped her wrist bag fiercely. “This has to work,” she said. “It has to!”

“It will. Compose yourself. You mustn’t let anyone see how much you care.”

“No, you are right.” Israi dabbed at her face and lowered her rill in a visible effort to achieve calm. “My dearest Ampris, what would I do without you?”

Ampris grinned at her. “Just keep thinking about how this potion is going to work. That will support your composure.”

Israi burst into laughter and finished repairs to her complexion. “Yes, indeed.”

They were still giggling when the doors opened and Lady Lenith swept inside. Gowned in resplendent magenta and dripping with numerous jeweled necklaces and bracelets, Lady Lenith bowed deeply to Israi.

“By the Imperial Daughter’s leave,” she said. “A gift-bearing messenger has come from Lady Zureal.”

Israi’s eyes dilated, and Ampris barely suppressed a gasp. She watched Israi, seeing a blush spread up her rill.
Keep your temper
, Ampris thought, never taking her gaze off her friend.
Do not spoil this
chance
.

“How—how delightful,” Israi said, layering honeyed tones over the constraint in her voice. “Permit the messenger to enter.”

Lady Lenith turned aside and clapped her hands. At once a servant entered, cringing low in respect, eyes carefully averted. The servant carried a package in festive wrapping.

Israi glanced at Ampris and gestured imperiously. Ampris went and took the package.

“Compliments of Lady Zureal,” the servant said.

Israi smiled. She nodded again to Ampris, who opened the package. Inside was a holographic cube filled with pretty but juvenile images. Ampris held it up.

Israi’s smile suddenly looked as though it had been set in plaster. “How pretty,” she said in a flat voice. “Please convey my thanks to Lady Zureal.”

The servant bowed and hurried out. For a moment there was only taut silence in the room. Then Lady Lenith walked over to Ampris and took the cube from her hand.

She held it up, turning it this way and that. “It was well-meant,” she said.

Israi whirled around and took it from her, smashing it to the floor in fury. “Well-meant!” she shouted. “I am vi-adult, and she knows it! I’m not a hatchling, to be given something like this.”

“It was the gesture of the gift which must be held charming,” Lady Lenith corrected her. “A most agreeable revival of an old custom, this exchange of gifts between moth—”

“Mother?” Israi said with a dangerous flash of her tiny, razor-sharp teeth. “Zureal is
not
my mother. She may have displaced Lady Myneith as First Wife, but she will never be—”

“Still,” Lady Lenith interrupted in her cool manner, “no insult was intended, and the Imperial Daughter should not lose her temper. Instead, why not consider the intent behind the gesture and respond to that?”

“Intent?” Israi stood there with her eyes narrowed, breathing hard as she visibly battled her temper. “Oh, yes, Lady Lenith. I think I understand the
intent
very well.”

“It is perhaps unwise to read too much into this,” Lady Lenith said mildly. “Zureal is not a complex person. I am sure her motives are kind generosity, nothing more.”

“Yes,” Israi said flatly. “No doubt.” Her gaze went to Ampris. “Then I should give her a gift in return, should I not?”

Lady Lenith gestured approval. “Why, Israi, that is splendid of you. Very grown up.”

Still looking at Ampris, Israi flicked her tongue in and out rapidly. “I meant to give her something at the banquet, but this is better. Don’t you think?”

Ampris’s eyes widened as she understood.

Lady Lenith, oblivious to the hidden meaning beneath Israi’s words, replied, “Why, yes. It is charming to exchange gifts of affection in private before the festivities officially commence. So very appropriate. I am proud of you.”

Israi drew the vial from her wrist bag and held it up carefully. “Ampris,” she said.

Hardly daring to breathe lest she burst into gleeful laughter, Ampris walked forward and took the vial from Israi’s slender fingers. The light shone through its clear sides, burnishing the pale amber liquid inside. What they had gone through to get it—petitioning for permission to leave the palace and setting out with guards and escorts to an obscure little shop just off the Avenue of Triumph. The potion had been prepared for a very generous sum. Israi had spent her entire allowance for the quarter on this, and she was counting on it to work.

Now, Israi’s gaze bored into Ampris. “You will take this straight to the chambers of Lady Zureal,” she commanded. “Give it to the lady herself and no other. Make her understand that it comes from me.”

They had argued about this before, with Ampris insisting that the perfume should be an anonymous gift. But Israi considered the rivalry she felt with Lady Zureal to be war, and she would not heed caution. She wanted Zureal to know they were enemies, and after tonight that would certainly be very clear.

“Ampris,” Israi said sharply. “Put it directly into her hands.”

Ampris took a deep breath. “Yes, Israi,” she said.

“And hurry. You must catch her before she leaves for the banquet.”

Ampris nodded and went out the door with the precious weapon, while behind her she overheard Lady Lenith praising Israi again for her courtesy and generosity.

Stifling a snort of laughter, Ampris hurried out into the corridor and headed straight to the chambers of Lady Zureal.

There, the attendants stopped her, flicking out their aristocratic Viis tongues with disdain.

“What do
you
want here?” one asked.

“I am sent by the sri-Kaa,” Ampris said with dignity. She had dealt with disdainful courtiers and ladies in waiting all her life. “I bring the Imperial Daughter’s compliments to Lady Zureal in the form of an advent gift.”

“How nice,” the female said, holding out her hand. “I shall give it to her.”

Ampris clutched the perfume vial firmly. “My instructions are to give it to the lady personally.”

They all laughed.

“Nonsense,” the female in charge said, spreading her rill. “You are an unworthy slave. Give it to me, and I shall see that Lady Zureal receives it.”

Ampris growled at her. “You insult the sri-Kaa! You would keep her gift for yourself.”

Anger filled the female’s eyes. “You little—”

“What is it, Mavia?” a melodic voice asked from the other room in the suite. “Who are you talking to?”

The doors opened, and Lady Zureal stood revealed in the soft lamplight. She wore a loose dressing robe that did not conceal the swelling in her body from the eggs she carried. Her pale green skin was radiant, and her amethyst eyes gazed upon Ampris with kindness.

“Oh,” she said, and smiled. “Are you not the pet of the sri-Kaa?”

The lady’s charm was irresistible. She had a trick of fastening her tilted eyes on someone and making them feel they were the only creature in the universe at that moment. Ampris found herself smiling back, then realized what she was doing and hastily walked forward with a bow.

“Yes, my lady,” she said politely. “I bring greetings of Festival from the sri-Kaa. She sends you a gift tonight in hopes that you will lay many eggs.”

Pleasure sent an amethyst blush up the lady’s rill. “How charming! That dear chune. I am as enchanted with her as is her esteemed father.” She held out her hand with a graceful droop to her wrist. “Please bring it to me.”

Ampris obeyed, concealing her glee at how well the plan was working so far. And yet, as she handed over the perfume and received yet another smile from Zureal, Ampris felt a quiver of regret pass through her.

Zureal really was nice, she thought. Not conceited or temperamental at all, like so many of the wives. Although she had become an instant favorite, clearly besotting the Kaa and creating much gossip thereby, she did not seem vain about it. She had not given herself airs or tried to place herself higher than her position allowed. Ampris wished that Israi did not hate Zureal so much. She almost found herself warning Zureal not to wear the perfume, and had to bite her tongue.

Meanwhile, Zureal was sniffing the stopper. Heady fragrance filled the room, and she quickly replaced it. With little exclamations, the others gathered around her.

“What is it? I have never smelled anything quite like it.”

Ampris met Zureal’s gaze with growing discomfort. “The sri-Kaa had it specially formulated for you,” she replied. “I must go.”

“Thank her,” Lady Zureal said with sincerity. “This is a lovely gift indeed.”

Ampris bowed, suddenly desperate to get out of there. But Lady Zureal reached out to stop her and stroked Ampris’s head between her ears.

“You are lovely too,” she said kindly. “What are you called?”

“Ampris.”

“You look very pretty tonight, with your collar of flowers. Will you be permitted to see any of the banquet?”

Ampris drew herself up with pride. “I am attending,” she said. “The sri-Kaa will recline tonight at the table as a vi-adult, and I am permitted to stand behind her.”

Zureal’s lovely eyes dilated in dismay. “Oh, dear,” she said, letting her rill fall. “I had not realized. That is—I am pleased at such an honor for the sri-Kaa. But I thought her younger.”

“No,” Ampris said flatly, enjoying Zureal’s discomfiture. “She is not.”

“Then I have erred with her Festival gift,” Zureal said. “Mavia, we must find something else. Was the sri-Kaa insulted by the cube? I have seen her so little, and everyone talks so indulgently about her pranks and immature behavior. I’m afraid I thought her quite a chune.”

Embarrassment flooded Ampris. She dropped her gaze, understanding how a stranger might misconstrue Israi’s recent wild behavior. Yes, Israi had been running about the palace as free and wild as she pleased. But that was over. As soon as Festival ended, lessons and the old routine would recommence. But Ampris did not know how to explain all of that to Zureal, who was directing Mavia to look for a pretty scarf or bracelet.

“Here,” she said, pressing a crimson and blue scarf into Ampris’s hands. “Give her this, and ask her to come to me when Festival is over. We must talk, she and I, must come to know each other and understand each other better. I want to be friends with her. And she is now at the age when she may wish to be friends with someone a little older. Tell her these things, Ampris, and give her my apology for the mistake.”

Horrified, Ampris stared at the scarf in her hands. It was beautiful, costly, exactly the sort of thing Israi would love. And yet, that hateful bottle of perfume was being carried away to a place of honor on Zureal’s dressing table. Ampris stared at it, wishing she could find a way to run after Mavia and knock it from her hand.

She was ashamed of herself and more ashamed of Israi, who had judged this female with prejudice and meanness of spirit. Israi was acting from petty motives, exactly like a selfish hatchling. And Zureal did not deserve her spite.

“I—I—”

“Yes, Ampris,” Zureal said with a dismissive gesture. “I know I have given you a long message, but do try to convey as much of it as you can to your mistress. Run along now. I have much to do to get ready.”

Ampris bowed and backed away from her, wanting to tell her the truth, yet not knowing how.

“Oh, and Ampris?”

Ampris glanced up. “Yes, my lady?”

Zureal beamed at her. “Tell the sri-Kaa that I shall wear her lovely perfume tonight. In fact, I’m going to put it on now.”

Heat flashed through Ampris. She opened her mouth to protest, but Mavia and the other attendants shoved her outside into the corridor. The door shut firmly, and the chance was lost.

Ampris stood there, clutching the fine scarf, knowing it would never be worn. Israi was going to get into such awful trouble.

Worried, she debated what to do. It was too late now to stop Zureal from putting on the potion. That meant Israi’s only hope was to confess everything immediately to the Kaa, explain why it had all come about, and ask for his pardon, as well as the forbearance of the Lady Zureal.

Growling to herself, Ampris hurried away. Israi was going to get into terrible, terrible trouble.

“Apologize?” Israi’s voice rose sharply, causing several courtiers to glance in her direction. Spreading her rill and turning her back on them, she bent low and whispered furiously in Ampris’s ear, “Never! Never! Never! You have lost your wits.”

“But, Israi—”

The sri-Kaa turned away from Ampris and walked deeper into the crowded audience hall. The entire court was slowly assembling there, waiting for the signal to enter the banquet chamber. Courtiers bowed to Israi as she walked past them, and Ampris hurried in her wake.

Finally Israi paused near a column, poising herself with her head held high. Her eyes were glittering, and her rill extended far above its collar. Despite her youth she looked magnificent, and formidable.

“She didn’t understand,” Ampris said, catching up. “She sent me back with a beautiful gift, and—”

“I don’t want to hear this,” Israi said, her voice emphatic and flat. “You were seduced by her charm, as is everyone. But I refuse.”

“Israi—”

Israi turned on Ampris with a flash of her eyes. “Silence!” she commanded. “Keep your place.”

The harsh rebuke stung Ampris deeply. She clamped her jaws shut and said nothing more. Her eyes reproached Israi for being so unjust. After all, she was only trying to help.

Then Israi gazed at the assembly and did not look at Ampris again.

Trumpets sounded in a fanfare that stopped the general babble of conversation. Courtiers turned to face the tall open doors where guards in green cloaks were filing through to stand in a double row. A command rang out, and the guards drew ceremonial swords, holding them in an arch.