The Rabbit and the Raven: Book Two in the Solas Beir Trilogy (30 page)

“Thank you, Hedeon, we
would
appreciate a lift.” David turned to Abby, smiling.
Luck is with us,
he thought. And then, as if he were hearing her voice inside his mind, he corrected himself.
No, not luck. Light. The Light is with us.

Hedeon offered his arm to Abby, and she took it graciously, smiling at the knight. He led her to a beautiful mare. “For you, dear lady.”

“Thank you, sir,” Abby said, and climbed up into the saddle.

Cael found his mount, and Jon led Marisol to hers. In moments they were traveling again, quickly making their way to the city.

A towering wall encircled the City of the Eastern Oracle. Cael had
confirmed the details from Abby’s dream at the Emerald Guardian, telling Abby and the others that the city behind it rose in tiers on the edge of a cliff, and the palace, perched on the highest tier, overlooked the Eastern Sea.

As they crossed the drawbridge at the city’s gate, Abby gazed down into the dark water of the moat and wondered for a moment what lurked beneath. Probably nothing, she decided, since it smelled of sewage. She hoped the rest of the city smelled better.

She was not disappointed. Just beyond the gate was a market more magnificent than any she had seen in the western region of Cai Terenmare she now called home. Spices and perfumes filled the air, and a rainbow of lanterns and banners hung overhead between brightly colored tents and carts.

The bazaar seemed to be a circus as much as it was a marketplace
. All manner of entertainers walked about, enticing extravagantly dressed customers into various shops. The expensive-looking fabric and elaborate designs of their clothes were a sharp contrast to the simple, homespun clothes of the villagers Abby had met on the Great Plains. She turned to Hedeon. “Is this a festival of some kind?”

“Nay, my lady,” the knight replied. “I should like to say it was a celebration in your honor, but the market is always this festive.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Abby saw a large figure looming over a shopkeeper. She turned in her saddle to get a better look. The giant goblin had a twisted grin and looked as though it could devour the tiny man in a single bite. “A Blood Shadow!” she cried.

“Do not be alarmed,” Hedeon
reassured her. “The Kruorumbrae live among us most peaceably here. You will find that the Eastern Oracle has managed to restore order in the absence of a Solas Beir.” He looked quickly to David. “I beg your pardon, Sire, but in truth, we
have
these many years been without a king.”

David shook his head.
“No apologies necessary. I know that with my father’s death there was a vacuum in authority. I’m sure the oracle did what was necessary keep the peace.”

The knight looked relieved. “Yes, Your Majesty, that is it exactly. I have only the
highest respect for Ardal. He was a great Solas Beir, as I am sure you will be. But in the days following his death, our people suffered. We are so far from your throne on the western shore, and our fair city was long plagued by the Darkness. The assaults on our walls increased tenfold when news of the Solas Beir’s assassination reached us. It was imperative that my master use a strong hand to bring the Kruorumbrae under the same law we serve.” Hedeon turned back to Abby. “Look again, if you will, my lady. Tell me, what do you see?”

Abby looked back. The shopkeeper was handing the Shadow a large goat, skinned and ready for cooking. Or for
immediate consumption, if, as she assumed, the goblin would be taking his meat raw. The Shadow grunted his approval as he hefted the goat over one shoulder and gave the man several coins. Then the odd pair shook hands.

Abby turned back to Hedeon, shocked. “They are doing business. But how is this possible? I thought the Shadows didn’t eat the same kind of food we eat—that they prefer
live
prey.”

Hedeon smiled. “It is difficult to believe, but it is true. Under the new law, we are able to live among the Kruorumbrae. They have signed a pact not to harm our citizens, and thus far, the truce remains intact.”

“How long has the truce been in place?” David asked.

“Twenty years,” Hedeon stated.

“And with the return of Tierney, the pact still has not been broken?” Abby asked.

“No, it has not. The Kruorumbrae dwelling in our city have kept their promise,” Hedeon replied. “But I shall leave it to my master to explain the details of the law. We have arrived at our destination.”

The knight gestured to a columned building at the end of the road. It was three stories high with a domed roof and lavishly decorated with carvings honoring past Solas Beirs. Abby watched David’s eyes as he took in the carvings. He seemed to be in a state of awe.

“Your
forebears, Sire,” Hedeon explained. “On the other side of this great house is a space reserved for the chronicling of your reign. It will be an honor to bear witness to your noble deeds.”

David nodded. “I only hope I can live up to the precedent set by my father.”

“You will,” Hedeon said. “Of that I have no doubt. Please, allow me to show you the quarters prepared for your stay.” He dismounted and helped Abby off her horse.

Servants stood at the ready, sweeping tall double doors open to reveal an interior even more extravagant than the sculpted façades of the walls outside. In the center of the building was a circular room, and the underside of the dome was painted with a fresco displaying further exploits of Solas Beirs past. At the far end of the room were doors leading to a garden.

“There is a spring-fed pool in the garden for your pleasure,” Hedeon said. “And each of the suites on the third floor has a separate room for bathing. The second floor houses the library and music room. There are implements for writing in the library, and should you need a message delivered, you have only to ask. The kitchen and dining areas are on the ground floor. The staff will be happy to serve you in the dining area or bring food to your rooms, should you prefer that. Court-appropriate attire has been readied and awaits you in your quarters. Is there anything else you might require for your stay?”

“No, these are
magnificent accommodations,” David said. “Please, give the Eastern Oracle our thanks. He has outdone himself in his hospitality.”

“He will be pleased to hear
that,” Hedeon replied. “He looks forward to meeting you at court tomorrow. I will come at the tenth hour to escort you to the palace.”

David smiled.
“Thank you so much, Hedeon.”

“Truly, the pleasure is mine, Sire.” With that,
the knight gracefully bowed and excused himself.

David watched the servants close the doors behind the knight.

“Wow. This is amazing
.” Marisol craned her neck, looking up at the fresco. “What should we do first? Check out our rooms?”

“All right,” Jon
said. “But then we’re in the pool. Then food and sleep, in that order.”

“You got it,” Marisol agreed, and they scurried off toward a spiraling
marble staircase, laughing like excited children.

“David, may I accompany you and Abby to your chambers?” Cael asked. “It is not that I do not trust our host, but I would like to make sure your rooms are secure.”

“Of course,” David said. “Better safe than sorry.”

Abby and David had adjoining rooms, and Cael’s was several doors down. Cael was very thorough in his search for possible secret doors, traps, or poisons, even inspecting the
rich, all white clothes laid out for the next day’s appointment with the oracle.

“I am sorry
,” Cael apologized, completing his survey of David’s room. “You must think me paranoid.”

“Not at all,” David replied. “If the oracle wanted to trap us, showering us with luxury would be a smart strategy.”

“Razzle ’em, dazzle ’em,” Abby murmured. She was looking out David’s open window, her elbows on the sill.

David could hear Jon and Marisol laughing in the pool below.

“Yes,” Cael said. “I believe we are safe for now, and I will retire to my own quarters for some sleep. But, I have a word of caution you may wish to pass on to our friends.”

“What’s that?” David asked.

“Although I am confident there is nothing in our chambers to harm us, guard your speech and behavior. Whatever we say or do is sure to find its way to the oracle’s ears,” Cael warned.

“Duly noted,” David said. “Sleep well, my friend. We’ll wake you for dinner.”

Cael nodded and stepped out of David’s room, closing the door behind him.

“Feel like a swim?” David called to Abby. He held up a pair of silky, knee-length trousers trimmed in velvet ribbon, apparently the Cai Terenmare equivalent of board shorts. No self-respecting surfer he knew would be caught dead in floral pastels, but David had no other options unless he planned on skinny-dipping. Which he didn’t.

Abby burst out laughing. “Sure. Why not?”

David grinned, wondering what her suit would look like. Considering the formal manners of the Eastern Oracle, he had an idea their host had provided Abby with something modest. David imagined her arrayed like a Greek goddess, in a shortened gown that draped in all the right places.

It took a while for Abby to change, and David finally knocked on her door. “Ready?”

“No.”

He winced. He could tell by the sound of her voice she was not amused by what she was required to wear. “How bad is it?” he called.

She opened the door. “Awful.” She was wearing a high-necked, long-sleeved top tucked into high-waisted, ballooning pants in a fabric that matched his trousers. If the idea was to mask her figure via carnival-mirror distortion, the designer of the suit had succeeded.

David raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?” He peered into her room, thinking there must be some other garment appropriate for swimming. The only other clothing laid out for Abby was the long-sleeved white dress and lace shawl she was required to wear to court.

She nodded, scrunching her nose in distaste.

“Wow. Well, the good news is,
you
are still adorable, in spite of your, um, fancy-pants outfit.” He caressed her cheek and her smile returned. “And I’m pretty sure Jon and Sol look as…” He was about to use the word “ridiculous,” but then paused, thinking about Cael’s warning to guard his speech. “As, uh,
opulent
as we do,” he finished, watching Abby’s look of puzzlement change to alarm as she understood what he hadn’t said and why.

The courtesan knew he did not have much time to live. He had come to this realization between episodes of feverish hallucinations. In the grip of these paranoid delusions, he was haunted by winged women with frightening faces and hunted by ghoulish palace guards. During the times he felt most lucid, it was clear to him that he
was
being hunted. His reptilian companion had not given up the slow chase; it had patiently shadowed the courtesan in his trek across the endless, wretched sand.

He had faithfully followed the sun, and the golden orb now sat on the western horizon. But the courtesan had no
clue if one day had passed or a thousand since he began this walk. He had no idea how far he had come. He was not even entirely sure of his name, or if he had one. All he knew was pain—his body was swollen with it, pregnant with venom that leaked slowly from the source of the wound in putrid dribbles of milky green pus, streaked with red.

The courtesan stumbled on, unsure
of why he needed to keep placing one foot in front of the other. Finally it occurred to him that that he could not think of a reason. Not one. This struck him as being quite silly, and he began to laugh. Laughing hurt. Laughing made his weak legs tremble, so he rectified the situation by collapsing spread-eagle on the ground. He lay on his back, arms outstretched, hands clutching fistfuls of sand. He lay like that for some time, breathing in, breathing out, staring up at a dark blue sky, only beginning to twinkle with stars.
How pretty they are,
he thought.

The thing watched the courtesan curiously. It was in no great hurry. It watched the man’s chest rise and fall, steadily at first, and then less so. It waited until the last of the indigo had vanished from the sky, leaving a blanket of black velvet covered in diamonds. The creature did not care much for stars. It was far more concerned about things within its reach.

It approached the man lying on the ground, prodding his body with the end of its
reptilian snout. Nothing. The courtesan’s eyes were open, as if he were still watching the stars. Those eyes were the only thing vaguely resembling the man who had started this journey. The creature did not care about this either. It cared only for what had been marinating beneath that thin layer of flesh.

The queen’s screams echoed through her bedchamber.