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She stopped.
If it is just a friendship.
No. Such a thing was unthinkable, impossible, against the rules that governed the Deathless.
She shook her head, forcing herself to carry on. It was not her place to question her lord. She was just in shock, that was all. Whatever was happening, there would be a true and proper explanation that would be given to her if it was deemed appropriate.
She still hated Pari though.
Most of the stress in Chandni’s life had been the kind one could prepare for. From difficult guests from other houses who needed to be handled with care, to complicated negotiations over rights, to pregnancy. All were managed with meticulous planning and Chandni was proud of how smoothly she’d navigated through.
To the outside eye, it appeared that she never broke sweat or struggled, and that was just how she liked it. Exactly as a true Sapphire should be.
Yet again, her head knocked against the top of the tunnel, and she bit her lip to stop from crying out. Satyendra jolted in her arms but did not cry. His tiny fingers splayed in surprise, then settled again, gathering the front of her nightgown in two tight bunches.
Pride for her son’s stoicism overwhelmed the throbbing on the back of her skull and she paused to kiss his forehead. He’d always been calm in spectacular circumstances, including those surrounding his birth. For Satyendra was born on the same day as the Sapphire High Lord, Yadavendra, and under the same alignment of the suns. Upon hearing this, the High Lord had come in person to inspect the baby, and was so taken with him, he decreed they should share a name of equal length, an honour normally reserved for the other heads of the Crystal Dynasties.
Beneath her, the castle was surprisingly quiet.
Surely Pari should have raised the alarm by now? But even as she thought that, Chandni knew there were many reasons for Pari to fail. Perhaps the assassins had caught her, or perhaps the real guards had arrested her. Perhaps she was still hobbling along in that ancient body. She’s probably fallen asleep!
The image made Chandni start to giggle until she realized she was being hysterical, at which point she started to cry.
It was cold and dark in the tunnel. Her knees were raw from crawling, and she had to shuffle one-handed so that she could hold Satyendra in the other. As babies went, hers was small and light, like her, but over time that little weight seemed to increase, until it was like hefting a sweet, huggable boulder.
A tear fell onto Satyendra’s head and she heard the tiniest intake of breath.
Then, summoning the inner voice of her mother, Chandni berated herself until the tears stopped falling. This is not how a child of the Sapphire behaves! It simply will not do! Your face should be inscrutable, a puzzle for your enemies to fret over and your allies to admire. It should be held still, a weapon, only moving when it serves your purpose. It should not wobble and blush like a spanked bottom!
Chandni nodded, shaking, but herself again. Thank you, Mother.
She forged on, gritting her teeth as the skin of her knees ground against the stone.
Just as she began to despair that the tunnel was endless, her head connected with the exit, causing her to curse Pari, the assassins, the castle’s architects, and her own stupidity.
A panel slid away, admitting her into the main entrance hall behind the feet of an ancient statue from a time long-forgotten. The crystal had been grown through several floors of the castle and carved in sections, so that the head emerged in the feast hall and the feet straddled the entrance. There was an old belief that the great sapphire giant held the castle together, and kept it in the sky. Chandni had always liked the statue and thought it sad they did not have a name for it. The man depicted had a kind face and was the only crystal-forged smile to be found in Lord Rochant’s home.
Mohit had said the hollows where the eyes should have been were creepy, but she disagreed. She felt the dark spaces gave the statue a sense of intelligence that the others lacked.
Mohit, my poor, poor, Mohit. He had been kind, respectful. And though not the best of lovers, he had endeavoured to follow her instructions to the best of his ability. What he had lacked in initiative, he’d made up for in determination. In fact, by the end of their time together, she’d hardly been bored by him at all.
The panel closed behind her, softly, bringing her back to the present. It was a short walk from here to the main doors of the castle. Unfortunately, they were closed and barred, and from her hiding place, she could see several alert looking guards in place.
Even from a distance, she could tell they weren’t her people. Chandni made it her business to know every member of staff at the castle. She didn’t tell them of course, saving the knowledge for when it could be employed to maximum advantage.
These are the assassins. Not just one more as Pari believed, but a group, possibly a whole unit.
The castle kept only a small team of defenders but they were highly trained, at least she had always considered them so. It troubled her that they had been dealt with so easily.
There was no way she could leave by the main entrance, but there was more than one path in and out of the castle. Using the statue as cover and keeping out of sight of the gates as best she could, she made her way towards the kitchens.
She had almost reached the stairwell off the main corridor when she heard a woman’s voice behind her. ‘Hold there!’ It was coming from the other end of the entrance hall. She was not surprised that the speaker was unfamiliar.
Pretending not to hear, she walked a little faster, giving Satyendra a calming smile, and making sure her body blocked him from sight.
‘Hold there, I say!’
She turned into the stairwell and, as soon as she was out of view, took the steps three at a time, her feet skidding off the end of one, straight onto the other, threatening to fly out in front, as her long hair flew out behind.
Satyendra’s eyes grew wide and his hold on her tightened, but the baby kept his peace, just as his mother did.
Like a thing tossed from a storm, she burst into the kitchens, her feet bruised, her nightdress filthy, her knees swollen.
‘Ooooh!’ crowed the old cook, who moments ago had been asleep but was now most definitely awake.
Chandni straightened, and raised an imperious finger, cutting off the questions forming on the cook’s lips. She’d served the Sapphires all her long life and was talented but slow, and liked the sound of her own voice far too much for Chandni’s liking. ‘Open the outer door. Tell no one that I’ve been here. You have not seen me or Satyendra, do you understand?’
‘Of course, Honoured Mother. But what—’
‘—Immediately, dear Roh.’
The cook beamed at the use of her name, then went the wrong way, snatching up a bag and stuffing it with food.
Chandni channelled her mother again as she admonished the cook. ‘Were you not listening? Or is this an act of deliberate insubordination?’
‘But you’ll be wanting something for the baby, and a cloak for your shoulders. Wouldn’t do for you to be seen out there in your nightwear, I’d never forgive myself. And what about your poor feet?’
Behind her, Chandni felt rather than heard someone enter the room. She went to step away but a hand caught her arm.
She turned to find a woman dressed in House Sapphire uniform – but most definitely not House Sapphire – looking at her. The absolute lack of respect in the assassin’s eyes was chilling. She was about to say something when the assassin pulled out, not a sword, but a long, thin needle coated in something that glistened in the gemlight.
Chandni made to pull away but the assassin simply stepped with her, keeping close, the needle arcing down towards Satyendra’s neck.
Instinct took over, and in the next moment she felt something bite into her palm, briefly painful, and then suddenly, worryingly numb.
The point of the needle protruded from the back of Chandni’s hand, quivering inches away from her baby’s skin. Blood rather than poison coated it now.
Chandni exchanged a helpless look with Satyendra, whose little eyebrows raised questioningly, as if asking if this was an appropriate time to cry.
Yes, she thought. This is the perfect time to cry.
If the Bringers saw Pari, they made no comment as they passed out of the chamber, keeping to their ritual path. She listened intently as their robes whispered their way to the door, paused, then came the measured sweep of the door opening and them passing through, one by one, taking the light with them. The door closed with a heavy thud, plunging them into darkness. She heard Rochant sigh.
‘You can come out now.’
Pari used the pillars to navigate through the darkness, letting each one brush cool against her fingertips. ‘How did you know I was here?’
His voice was tired but not without warmth. ‘I didn’t, I just hoped.’
She reached out for him, finding the line of his shoulder in the dark. ‘Ah, there you are.’
‘Yes.’
She wiggled onto the side of the slab, enjoying the feeling of his warmth against her, and leaned down so that her lips hovered just above his. ‘And here I am.’
‘Yes.’ He lifted his head so that the word brought their mouths brushing together.
Pari longed to stay like that but neither her conscience nor her back would allow it. ‘Yes,’ she agreed, breathlessly. ‘But we have to talk, you and yours are under threat.’
‘Something’s happened?’
She told him quickly of the assassins, of the recent deaths in his line and the attempt against baby Satyendra that she’d foiled. He didn’t argue or interrupt until she’d finished.
‘Who would do this to me?’
Pari considered. ‘High Lord Sapphire could have done it, the Bringers implied he was angry with you.’
‘You heard them? By the Thrice Blessed Suns, is nothing sacred?’
‘No, and you should be grateful. Without me things would be much worse.’
Rochant found her hand and squeezed it. ‘You’re right about me but wrong about my High Lord. If he had wanted me removed it would be done publicly, as an example to others. He would never stoop to knives in the dark.’
‘Perhaps that was true once but I hear rumours that High Lord Sapphire is not the man he was.’
She felt Rochant turn his head away. ‘I tell you it is not his way.’
‘Who then?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Even someone as charming as you must have enemies.’
‘Whoever it is has planned well. They’ve taken full advantage of the disruption the ceremony causes.’ She could hear the interest in his voice. Despite the threat, he was intrigued by the puzzle. ‘The assassin you confronted, you said he was in Sapphire uniform?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did it fit?’
Pari thought for a moment. ‘Yes, like it was made for him, in fact.’
‘So that means either he had been working here for some time, or he’d had the uniform made specially.’
Pari shook her head, then realized Rochant wouldn’t be able to see the gesture. ‘Or he found a guard of similar size and stole his.’
‘In any case,’ Rochant continued, ‘this is something that has been planned well in advance.’
‘I agree but how does that help us here?’
‘Motivation. Someone wants this done but is willing to wait to achieve it.’
‘But why? Revenge? Ambition?’
‘That’s the next thing we have to understand.’
‘No,’ said Pari. ‘The next thing we have to do is get you out of here.’
‘Wait, I’m not ready to move just yet.’ Though his new body was exhausted, his mind seemed agile as ever. ‘There are two obvious reasons to remove my line. One, because the person or persons behind this desire my death. Two, the person or persons behind this stand to gain from my death. If I and all of my descendants were gone—’
Pari nodded, ‘—then High Lord Sapphire would be able to raise a new member into the Crystal Dynasties. Who would he have in mind? We need to find out …’
‘And I need to think about the past, cases I have presided over, decrees I’ve made, anything that could have seeded resentment.’
‘While you’re doing that, I’ll go and make sure Chandni is coping with Satyendra. I fear life outside the castle is going to be a bit of a shock for her.’
‘Quite.’
Though she couldn’t see it, she could imagine Rochant’s expression. His face rarely gave much away, but there was a whole language kept in the crinkles around his eyes. She resisted the urge to touch his face, seeking them. ‘It’s good to have you back.’
He took breath to reply but the second door to the chamber opened suddenly, interrupting him.
Pari slid from the slab, darting behind the nearest pillar.
She just had time to tuck herself out of sight before a pair of boots could be heard marching on the stone, and then Dil’s voice, oddly cold, ‘My lord.’
‘Dil? Is that you?’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘Ah, the mantle of adulthood suits you, captain.’
‘Thank you, my lord.’
Something in Dil’s manner seemed off, but it was hard to read the man by sound alone. Unable to help herself, Pari peeked round the pillar. With the second entrance wide open and light flooding the chamber, she was able to see, not just Dil, but two other guards alongside him.
But I only heard one pair of boots!
She had to hold her hands together to stop them shaking. The assassins were here, and Dil was oblivious. She prepared herself to act. Perhaps between them, they could hold off the killers long enough for help to arrive.
‘Forgive me, my lord,’ said Dil, ‘but you are about to be attacked by an assassin sent by the Tanzanites.’
The comment was so ridiculous, so unexpected, that she nearly came out of her hiding spot to argue.
Luckily Rochant seemed happy to do it for her. ‘Explain yourself, captain. The last I heard, our accords were strong with all the crystal dynasties.’
‘They are, my lord. But after we’ve killed you, that’s what we’re going to tell everyone, and I suspect the accords won’t matter then.’
Dil turned to the man and woman behind him. ‘Find the Tanzanite.’
