Brightly Woven (35 page)

“It’s the truth; ask Oliver,” I said. “This is your chance. If the king really is dead, there’s no reason to go ahead with such a foolish war. Make amends with the queen and find a peaceful solution.”

Hecate turned toward her desk, lifting a blank sheet of paper. When she looked up, I thought I saw real shame there.

“Get out,” she said harshly. “I have letters to write.”

I made my way back to my former quarters alone, wondering if my things were still where I had left them. I had thought about trying to find North, but with men and wizards filling
the palace to capacity, it was like searching for a drop of water in the sea. Some stopped to look at me as I passed, but no one bothered me. It was a nice change.

After a considerable amount of wandering, I found the dark corner of the palace the Sorceress Imperial had assigned me.
Unlocked
, I thought,
thank Astraea
.

Inside, my room was almost exactly as it had been. My clothes were spread out across my bed, washed and folded. I picked up the blue dress my father had bought for me years ago in Provincia, holding it up to the light streaming through the window.

“It’s like you’ve never seen a dress before,” a voice said from the door. I spun around, to see Henry leaning against the doorframe.

“That’s my favorite,” he said. “It matches the color of your eyes.”

He took a step inside and shut the door behind him. My fingers tightened on the dress. I turned my back to him.

“I need to change and wash up,” I said. “Can we please talk later?”

“I want to know what’s going on. Why you’re dressed like that. Why you up and disappeared a week ago.” He put a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to turn around.

“I can’t tell you,” I said. Henry was staring at me with those brown eyes. I didn’t want to lie to him, but there wasn’t a chance in the world he would understand what was going on.

“Can’t, or won’t?” Henry asked. “The last time I checked, we were friends. We used to tell each other everything.”

“We’re not children anymore,” I said, and threw the dress down on the bed. “You keep acting like nothing’s changed, and you know it has.”

Henry took a step back. “Nothing has changed, Sydelle, not for me. But I can see that’s not the same for you.” He nodded toward the bracelet on my wrist. “Do I even need to ask who gave you that?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, choking on the words. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t pretend anymore.”

“Listen to yourself,” Henry said in astonishment. “You’re scaring me. Is this the wizard’s doing? Did he do something to you?”

“No, of course not!” I said. “Please, you’re making this worse—just go, Henry.
Please!”

“Come home with me,” Henry said. He reached out to take my hands, but I pulled them away. I saw the hurt in his eyes, and it felt like the walls were closing in on us.

“What’s happened to you?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “Everything. I’ve changed. I don’t know if I can go back to the way things were before and be happy.”

“So you won’t be happy with me, not ever?” I looked up as anger flooded his words. “You know we’re supposed to be together; it’s the way it’s always been!”

But it was no longer the way it could be. How do you
tell someone that he is a part of your past, and not your future?

“Please go,” I said. When he refused, when he tried to fold me into an embrace, I was the one to leave.

The door shut behind me, and it felt like a poor ending to a story that had been written long ago in the sands of a yellow mountain.

The weaving room was deserted by the time I found it, for which I was grateful. The thought of facing anyone, even a complete stranger, was unbearable. I wanted a place to be alone, to work in silence.

The other women had left the loom up. I rubbed my hands along the length of the cloak as I sat down, the threads smooth beneath my fingers. There was only a little still to be done, but I dove into the work with everything I had. I saw nothing else, felt only the warmth of magic and something else rushing through my veins.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

T
he next day passed as had the day before. The other women came and went, but I stayed behind long after they had gone, for what I hoped would be my final night of work. I poured every wish, every part of myself into each thread. I watched the yarn between my fingers take on a faint glow, even as my bracelet tinkled with the furious movements of my hands. I finished the row I was working on and sat back, a new thought coming over me.

I retrieved a sewing needle, and before I could begin to doubt myself, I stuck my finger. The droplet of blood, the same blood that had already caused so much strife, welled up against my pale skin. I pressed the finger to the upper left corner of the cloak. The effect was instantaneous—at the touch, the cloak lit up as if on fire, warming beneath my hands.

If my blood can do this
, I wondered,
what else can it do?
Could it heal the curse of a dead witch, one passed from father to son? Could I give enough of it over time that it would cure him?

But, more important, would North ever take it?

Ingredients, plans, and tests flitted through my mind as I wove love—and more—into the remaining threads.

“Syd?”

I sucked in a deep breath, rubbing my face. The light in the room was a dull gray—an overcast morning. I had meant only to rest my eyes for a few moments.

North laughed as he helped me sit up. “Sleeping on the cold stone floor when you have a perfectly good bed upstairs. I was wondering where you had disappeared to.”

“I’m in hiding,” I said.

“From who?”

I sighed. “Henry. We had a fight, and it didn’t end well.”

“Does…?” North paused, taking a deep breath. “Does he need to be dealt with?”

I had to laugh. “No, nothing like that. He’s just angry that I didn’t want to go back to Cliffton with him.”

“Ah,” North said. “Well, I can’t blame you. You’d be depriving yourself of my charming company.”

I rolled my eyes. “What a loss.”

“In all honesty, though, I think you should find a way to make amends if you can,” North said. “Real friends are hard to come by, and as annoying as Henry is, he’d throw himself in front of dragon’s fire for you.”

“And that’s the definition of a real friend?”

“Oh, yes, just ask Owain.” He laughed.

“I’ll take that into consideration,” I said. I reached up to brush a splotch of dust from his cheek.

“I keep forgetting,” he said, pulling something from his pocket. “I’ve been carrying this with me for so long I just got used to having it.”

In his hand was my necklace. He put it around my neck, still warm from where it had lain against his own skin.

“The king of Auster is dead,” he said.

I looked up sharply. “What? You’re sure?”

“Word came this morning to the Sorceress Imperial,” he said. “You won’t be hearing celebrations in the streets until she deems it the right moment to inform everyone else, though.”

“That’s good news, isn’t it?” I asked. “Not for her schemes, of course, but for the rest of us?”

North blew out a long breath. “The queen of Auster and the remaining nobles want to negotiate for peace,” he said. “On one condition.”

I looked at the newly finished cloak, still hanging on the loom. I already knew what they wanted.

“They still think you’re their goddess,” he said. “What
happened on the mountain only proved it to them, even with the king’s death.”

“How do they know I’m still alive?” I asked.

“They don’t,” North said, running his hand through my hair. “We’ll find another way.”

I shook my head. “I’ll go, if it means protecting you and everyone here.”

He clucked his tongue. “As if I would ever let you do that. We’ll find another way,” he repeated. “Mother is letting me accompany the diplomatic party over to Auster for the negotiations.”

He turned to look at the cloak. “You’ve been busy,” he said. “What is this?”

“A gift,” I said. “For you.”

He pulled off a glove and pressed his fingers lightly against the dragon at the center.

“It’s warm…,” he marveled, sensing the power woven into it. “But how can I take something like this into duels? I would never want to ruin it.”

“All the more reason to be careful when you fight,” I said. “Let me get scissors and a needle to hemstitch it.”

I worked quickly, feeling his eyes on me the entire time.

“When are you leaving?”

“In an hour…”

“An
hour?”
I said, folding the cloak across my arm. “I thought it would be another few days, at the very least!”

“The Sorceress Imperial wants to move quickly,” he said.
“I think a part of her still hopes these negotiations will break down.”

The thought came to me suddenly. “But they don’t have to. Do you still think they’ll agree to peace if I’m not part of the treaty?”

“It’ll depend on a number of things. The queen has prepared a list of terms and concessions that they might agree to, but I’m still concerned.” North ran a hand through his hair. “They’ve lost their king, not their armies or their alliance to Saldorra. It won’t help that we won’t give them the one thing they truly want.”

“What if you
can’t
give it to them?” I asked. “What if I were dead?”

North looked horrified.

“Figuratively dead,” I clarified. “They couldn’t hold it against you if I had been killed in the avalanche as well.”

“But where’s the proof?”

I bent down to pick up one of the longer pieces of thread I had cut away. I smoothed my long hair back, tying it in place. Then the small scissors were in my hand, cutting through my hair before North had the chance to stop me.

“Don’t—!” he said, but I was too fast for him.

“This was all Dorwan needed to convince them I was their goddess,” I said, pressing the bundle of hair into his hand. “How do they usually bury their dead?”

“They don’t,” North said. “They use funeral pyres.”

“Then tell them you did that when you found me on
the mountain,” I said. “Tell them you did it to honor them.”

“When did you get to be so clever and devious?” he asked. He brought a hand up to my much shorter locks.