The Sleeping Life (Eferum Book 2) (6 page)

"That's the only original of Solace's work journals that will not be presented to the Houses." Because the method Solace had used to create the Kellian, and her subsequent study of them, was not knowledge Rennyn cared to share with the entire kingdom. "I can't think of more appropriate custodians than you and Sukata."

"Thank you," Sarana said, more softly than usual, her hands shifting around the bundle. Rennyn wasn't certain if this meant she was pleased, but Illidian tightened his grip and rubbed his thumb against Rennyn's palm, so she decided it had been the right thing to do.

"The terms of our existence," Sarana added, smoothing the cloth. "You said, that day, that we were part of a continuing enchantment, that to be Kellian was to be at the command of the Montjuste-Surcleres. This has led us to ask, if there were no Montjuste-Surcleres, would we be Kellian?"

Rennyn had discussed the same question with her father, many years ago. Back then it had only been an intellectual puzzle.

"Symbolic Magic is not given to hard and fast certainties," she said carefully. "Anything I say would be no more than a guess. But—yes—if Solace's line ended, it's possible that the spell that makes you Kellian would unwind." She glanced at Illidian, who as usual showed only intelligent attention. "I don't think that would kill you. But the magical aspects would be lost." The speed, the strength, long life, effects with light, the sense of awareness the Sentene called Kellian instinct. And… "I couldn't say how greatly your personalities would be affected."

"It would be interesting to know," Illidian said, perhaps less daunted by the prospect than Rennyn. Kellian were by no means identical, but they all shared a certain calm, a patience and a loyalty it was hard to picture them without.

"The need for the bloodline to continue was something we too guessed at," Sarana continued. "But I am less certain on another point. The Ten were the creation of the casting, not us. We are a side-effect, not covered in the structure, though you have…events have proven to us that we are constrained as the Ten are."

The original ten golems created by Solace Montjuste-Surclere were a difficult topic for all the Kellian. Not for the will-less years serving Solace, or even the devastating abandonment following her departure, when Solace's son Tiandel had ordered them to leave Tyrland and never return. They had survived, grown into something more than constructs, even found new purpose after a violent assault had unexpectedly shown them they could bear children. But as the years had stretched, they had lost the energy for daily activity, had retreated into a sleep far beyond any weariness of Rennyn's. In the three hundred years since their exile, one of the Ten had been killed, but the rest neither died nor truly lived.

"The question we have now is, if the Ten did not endure, would we remain as we are?"

Rennyn blinked at Sarana's calm grey eyes, then looked up at Illidian. She could always read his emotions best of any of the Kellian. Resolute. Worried, but determined.

"It doesn't make any difference what I answer, does it?"

"It will not decide our course," Sarana acknowledged.

"Again I can't rule out anything absolutely, but I would consider it unlikely that the spell would dissipate. What is it you want to ask of me?"

"That you visit the resting place of the Ten. And allow them to decide their own fates."

Rennyn looked up at Illidian again, aware that she'd gripped his hand very hard. "You want me to command them to wake?"

"If that is the only way," he said. "It is sometimes possible to wake them, and they did revive during Queen Solace's return."

Illidian's voice was even, but the vertical lines that bracketed his mouth had deepened. He was unhappy about this, not least because he knew how much she would hate it. Over sixty people were at her absolute command, and they had nightmares about her because of that fact. She had given Sarana a command to prove to them that she could, and Illidian a command because he had asked her to. Then promised herself, over and over, that she would never again give an order to any of the Kellian, not accidentally, not even in an emergency. And certainly not like this.

"You want me to give them leave to die."

CHAPTER FOUR

Going to see Rennyn be made a Duchess had never sounded like fun, but Kendall hadn't expected to do more than lurk behind the crowd gawping at the things nobles thought it proper to wear. The problem was the outfits Rennyn had bought them. They were based on the Surclere crest, which was a twisty green and white dragon on a black background. The Black Queen's crest had included the Montjuste phoenix as well, and technically Rennyn could use it as well, but she'd decided to stick with just Surclere. So as part of the revived Duchy they were all decked out in knee-length, moss-green coats fastened with a dozen ebony toggles, with a black under-layer which showed for a few inches at the hem and cuffs. The dragon was a tiny outline stitched in white on the right of their chests.

It wasn't that they didn't look good. Kendall hadn't recognised herself, and she thought Sukata had never looked better. But nobles at a Court Occasion were more impressive than Kendall had ever imagined. It was as if an undecorated bit of cloth was against the rules. All the women were wearing what looked like four skirts, with the front of the outer layers cut away so that you could show off all four at once. Great big sleeves with pictures embroidered on them hung down over all that, and there were criss-crossing ribbons above the elbows, with gold net and whatnot across the bodice. If that wasn't enough they'd added bracelets and necklaces and brooches, and things in their hair. The men were more top-heavy, with close-fitting jackets over crisp shirts: the shoulders so large they must be padded with something, and these funny little half-cloaks over the top which were all crests and battle-scenes, and better than tapestries.

Kendall had been around the palace for months, and hadn't seen anyone wearing anything even close to this. When the snooty dressmakers had talked about Court Dress as if it was in a league of its own, maybe Rennyn should have listened a bit harder. You could buy entire houses with what these people were wearing.

The main result was that everyone belonging to 'Surclere' looked totally out of place, like nicely-dressed servants, and there wasn't even a chance Kendall could avoid being noticed—unless perhaps she hid behind the dark wood of the currently empty throne. At least Sebastian was a useful shield. He was about to become heir to a Duchy, and was all very romantic and interesting after helping defeat the Black Queen, so every second noble was keen to slime up to him. No matter where they went in the over-sized throne room, people would circle them and ask prying questions disguised as congratulations. Sebastian was never lost for an answer, though Kendall was willing to bet he found the whole thing boring just because there wasn't any magic involved.

The buzz of chatter dropped abruptly as Captain Faille walked into the room. His coat was long and snug with no extra layers, all in black with mottled green panels at the front. In this crowd he looked like an executioner come to Court, especially given he was already the grimmest man in the world. Kendall would never understand why Rennyn had gone silly over him.

Talk started up again in hissed whispers, which was stupid since most of the people there had to know Kellian could hear better than a cat. Not that Captain Faille would react to what was being said. He scanned the area, like all Kellian did when they entered a room, then crossed to talk to the Grand Magister, Lady Weston.

There were a group of people over by the tall windows that marched up the left side of the room. Kendall hadn't paid much attention before, but noticed them now because everyone else was looking at them like they were expecting something to happen. They weren't dressed any more or less fancy than anyone else, but most of them seemed cross and impatient. Then one of them moved and Kendall spotted the smart-mouthed idiot from the practice ground, dressed in a tamer version of their colours. Anyone associated with him had to be rotten. Best bet was these were some of the nobles who said stupid things about Kellian, and Kendall wondered if they'd make a scene about Captain Faille being there. He'd be Lord Surclere after this ceremony, though it would be hard for Kendall to think of him as anything but Captain. The way some people acted, giving a title to a Kellian would be enough to make Fel rise from the shadows and turn the world upside down.

Horns sounded, loud enough to make anyone jump. Two boys in red and gold had planted themselves just inside the doors to the right of the room and were turning their faces cherry-plum puffing away. Everyone stopped milling about and backed away from the throne, leaving a big semi-circle. Handy of the Queen to give them all a warning that they were supposed to start bowing.

Queen Astranelle had had two sons, but they'd both died years back. Prince Justin and Princess Sera were her grandchildren, and it was really easy to see the shared blood when the three of them walked in together. A little golden family, very grand. The Montjustes had ruled Tyrland since forever, and though Kendall had seen all of these three before, this was the first time she'd really felt it. Royalty.

While everyone pointed noses to the ground the Queen sat herself on the throne, with Justin and Sera on either side. Then the tara-tara-ing changed and everyone straightened up in time for Rennyn to come in. She'd been given use of a little room not far from the throne room, and had been there half the morning, dozing most likely while Lieutenant Faral fixed her hair. Just as the ceremony had been redesigned to avoid Rennyn falling over in the middle, and the important thing about the dress was that it wasn't heavy, they'd made sure she'd have plenty of rest while getting ready.

Kendall hadn't seen Rennyn wearing the dress before. The bodice was white, covered with twisty dragons wrestling each other, but they were white too so it was hard to tell. A high tight collar went all the way to Rennyn's chin, close-fitting sleeves hid her palms, and there was a row of green stone buttons up her back to the nape of her neck. The skirt started low, down past her hips, and fell in a straight line of dark green to the floor, longer at the back to make a little train. For possibly the first time ever, Rennyn was wearing her hair up, smoothed into a heavy knot high at the back of her head, with no attempt at the fancy braiding the Court ladies liked. There was maybe a hint of a green flash in the depths, a pin or two, but no other jewels.

It should have made her look plain and poor, since the whole room was dressed to show off how wealthy they were, but instead everyone else just seemed overdressed. Being Rennyn, she walked into the room like she owned it, didn't even glance around, and crossed right to the centre where there was a pad of gold cloth on the floor a bit before the throne. There she stopped and curtsied, not even for a moment looking like bending down made black spots appear in front of her eyes.

The ceremony was simple and to the point. Rennyn knelt on the cloth and recited an oath to obey and protect the Queen. In return, Queen Astranelle produced a long strip of black cloth embroidered with red and gold phoenixes, which she laid around Rennyn's shoulders like a scarf, then sounded off a whole bunch more titles than just Duchess of Surclere.

That was over quick enough, but then they decided to introduce her to everyone in the room, one by one, which was about the most boring thing imaginable. It got worse when Princess Sera, who was a horrible brat, had another go at 'dear cousin-ing' Sebastian, trying to get one over on him. The only good part was that Rennyn had latched on to Captain Faille's arm to help stay upright, and was making sure everyone was introduced to him as well. Even this wasn't as entertaining as it could be, since the group of people who'd been with the snotty boy had snuck off rather than say hello to a Kellian.

"Shall we get out of here?" Sebastian asked Kendall and Sukata, as Rennyn was introduced to Noble Number Ten Thousand. "Ren won't last much longer, and I think I've spoken to everyone I know."

"Finally!" Kendall wasted no time heading for the door. "Do you think Rennyn will still want to do this thing after lunch? She's likely to fall asleep in the middle."

"That doesn't really matter," Sebastian said, shrugging. "All she has to do is sit in a circle while I make sure Lieutenant Meniar can cast the divination."

Kendall glanced back as they reached the big doors at the back of the room, and saw that the receiving line had broken up exactly as Sebastian had predicted. But—

"Sukata, do you know who that is talking to Rennyn?"

Sukata looked, said: "Fallon DeVries," and paused to watch, which told Kendall a good deal more than the name.

"Him again?" Sebastian said, sounding surprised, probably because Rennyn was talking to the scut like she knew him. "Can you tell me anything more about him?"

"He is a solid theorist," Sukata replied, in the extra-neutral tone Kendall was coming to recognise as Sukata saying far less than she could. "Though considered a tentative caster. His father is a sculptor with a reputation for eccentricity. His uncle is Earl Harkness."

"Ah." Sebastian turned on his heel and strode off, forcing Kendall to double-step to keep up with him. Earl Harkness seemed to be the main person who wanted Kellian to not exist at all, and his money was the reason most of the newssheets had nothing but bad to say about them. Sebastian was even-tempered about most things, but the fact that Earl Harkness could do this drove him wild.

"Do you really not mind having to stay in Tyrland?" Kendall asked, to distract him before he really started brooding. "You're going to just let her go without you?"

Sebastian gave her a suitably startled look. "Were you expecting me to have a tantrum and insist Ren took me along? I hate the idea of her chasing after our uncle without me—not only because I might never see her again, but because I know damn well I could help. But the risk to the Kellian is too great for me to argue against. It does annoy me rather a lot that she thinks it's fine for you and Sukata to go."