Brightly Woven Read online

  “Is that really your opinion of me? Do you think I’m some kind of monster, that that’s the only way I think about you?”

  “No, but you think I’m a monster,” I said. “To be toyed with and manipulated. How dare you treat me this way? You’re no better than Dorwan!”

  Even as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. North took a step back, his face hardening into fury.

  “You’re cruel, Sydelle,” he said, his voice a whisper.

  “I’m right,” I said. I held out my arm, the bracelet a symbol of his betrayal. “Take it off.”

  “No,” he said. “Never.”

  There was a part of me that realized he was right, that by taking it off I would be opening myself up to the possibility of hurting someone else when my magic got out of control, especially as upset as I was. Still, I felt as if the bracelet was on fire, and I couldn’t get it off my arm fast enough. That was all I wanted, to be rid of any signs that he had been in my life.

  I pulled my hand back to slap him, but he caught my wrist and pushed me back against the closest pillar.

  “Let me go!” I cried, landing a hard blow to his gut.

  “Not until you’ve calmed down!” he said desperately. “Sydelle, please listen!”

  A third voice joined ours.

  “Let that girl go immediately!” Pompey stepped out from the shadows. His lush purple robe billowed out behind him as he strode toward us. “I said, release her!”

  “This is none of your business, Pompey,” North snarled. “I didn’t realize you made rounds down in the undercroft.”

  “And I didn’t realize you were both a vagrant and a brute,” Pompey said. “Release her now, North, or I’ll have the queen throw you in the dungeons for all eternity. Do you think you’ll ever see her then?”

  North’s grip faltered, and I wrenched myself free.

  “Come with me,” Pompey said softly. I walked stiffly over to him, taking his offered arm with an overwhelming sense of relief.

  “Syd!” North choked out. “Don’t!” I felt his fingertips brush my back as Pompey and I turned to go.

  “Stay where you are!” Pompey barked. “I’ll be back to deal with you later, but in the meantime you will not speak to or touch this girl again!” His narrow face looked down on me with concern.

  “The queen sent me to find you,” he said by way of explanation. “You don’t have to worry—you’re safe now.”

  I nodded, and Pompey led me out of the undercroft, ignoring North’s furious yells.

  “Sydelle! SYDELLE!”

  Pompey brought me not to my own room, but to the queen’s wing of the castle.

  “Where are we going?” I asked. “Why—?”

  “The queen has requested your presence this evening.”

  “The queen?” I echoed. “Please, not now—”

  “She wishes to converse with you. She’s expressed interest in hearing your story.”

  At any other time, the prospect of speaking to the queen of Palmarta would have filled me with excitement. Now, I felt hollow. My cheeks were still hot and flushed from my tears, and my throat was so raw I could barely breathe. How could I face the devastatingly beautiful queen now?

  “Miss Mirabil,” Pompey said sharply. “I don’t think I need to tell you that it is very improper to turn down a personal invitation from the queen.”

  “Please…,” I said weakly, but it was too late. Pompey held my arm a little too tightly as he escorted me down the hallway.

  The four guards outside the queen’s chamber parted as we approached. Pompey knocked twice, and a high, feminine voice replied, “Enter!”

  The first thing that caught my eyes in the airy space wasn’t the bright tapestry, nor the intricately painted wall and ceiling panels, but a table of four ladies playing a game of cards, one of them the young queen, wearing her crown.

  Pompey cleared his throat loudly. The other ladies ceased their conversation, turning to stare at us with great interest.

  “Oh, you’re here! How wonderful!” the queen cried, her voice high and girlish. She came toward us at once, her long yellow dress flowing out behind her. “You look positively dreadful—is everything all right?”

  “Fine, now,” I managed to squeeze out. I held out my hand, but she only stared at it. I pulled it back and tucked it in my skirt.

  “Your Majesty, may I present Miss Sydelle Mirabil,” Pompey said. I curtsied clumsily, keeping my eyes low to the ground.

  This close to her, I could see just how truly flawless she was, her eyes a shade of blue so brilliant that it seemed almost unnatural. She was smooth lines and pale skin all over. She watched me, never once betraying what she was thinking. I curtsied again, unsure of what she expected of me.

  “I’ve waited a very long time to meet you, Miss Sydelle,” she said. “May I call you Sydelle?”

  “Of course,” I mumbled, looking down. I had never been given the chance to go away to a fancy finishing school. There was a schoolhouse in Cliffton, a one-room building that boys and girls shared. We had learned how to read and write and do arithmetic, but I certainly hadn’t learned how to set a table correctly or speak another language. There were only two or three years’ difference between the queen and me in age, but the confidence with which she held herself made her seem much older than me.

  I felt like I was six years old again, cheeks stained with dust and scabs on my knees. The slightest movement made me feel boorish and clumsy.

  “Well, Sydelle,” she began pleasantly, “I’m so very glad to make your acquaintance. I’ve heard rumors that you had quite the adventure coming here.”

  “Your Majesty.” Pompey bowed. “May I take my leave to inspect the Wizard Guard’s progress?”

  “Would you mind getting Oliver for me?” Queen Eglantine said. “I have a question I’d like to ask him.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.” Pompey bowed again and shut the door silently behind him.

  We took a turn about the room, arriving back at the table of ladies.

  “Leave,” Queen Eglantine said brusquely. The ladies-in-waiting stood, curtsied, and practically flew from the room.

  “Now, Sydelle,” she said with a smile. “Please sit down. Would you like to play a game?”

  I balked, wringing my hands until they were bright red.

  “I’m very sorry,” I said after a moment, “but I don’t know how to play cards.”

  “Don’t know how to play!” she repeated, looking astonished. “Where are you from?”

  “Cliffton,” I said. What had my mother said? Not to look your elders directly in the eye? I tried to straighten my spine and keep my eyes trained on the beautiful carpet, but I was so tired that it didn’t seem worth it.

  “Oh, that pretty little shipping town in the south!” she exclaimed.

  “Actually, it’s out west,” I said, hesitating. Even before I saw the brief flash of annoyance on her face, I knew it wasn’t proper to correct her. Her smile quickly recovered, at least.

  “Right, of course.” Queen Eglantine waved her hand dismissively. “There are so many cities and villages that it’s easy to confuse them. Are you homesick? You look a touch sallow.”

  “A little,” I said, bringing a hand to my cheek.

  “I’m homesick all the time,” she said. “I’m not from Provincia, you know, and I’d much rather move the capital to Estoria, or at least build another palace there.”

  I nodded.

  “Did you get a chance to see Estoria while you were traveling? We have such lovely shopping markets and flower fields there.”

  I shook my head.

  “You’re not very talkative, Sydelle,” she said a bit sourly. “You haven’t told me anything about yourself yet!”

  “Well…,” I began slowly. “I’m from Cliffton….”

  “Yes, we’ve already established that,” she said. I bristled slightly.

  “Do you know what’s going on right now in Cliffton?” I asked. “In all of the western
villages? They’ve been overrun by Auster’s ally.”

  “Yes, I’m aware, but I didn’t realize that your village was one of those affected,” she said. “There’s a plan in place to protect them now. I promise no harm will come to your family and friends.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Now, what else? What other exciting things have you done? I feel very sorry for you that you’ve had to put up with that scoundrel for so long, but I’m sure something exciting happened!”

  “Nothing terribly exciting,” I lied. “Just a few duels.”

  “Duels!” Her eyes lit up. “I love duels!”

  She reached across the table and eagerly took my hand again. “Tell me, were they for your hand? You’re a precious little thing—it must have been so romantic!”

  “Not really,” I said, swallowing my first touches of anger. “It was actually quite terrifying.”

  “That wizard’s not very powerful at all, is he?” the queen mused, resting her chin in her free hand. “I’m glad he’s down where he can’t bother us anymore. Pompey will throw him into the dungeons.”

  “How did you—?” I began. Pompey had brought me directly to her chambers—how could she have learned what had happened already?

  “No matter, Sydelle. It will all work out.” The queen squeezed my hand, a slight smile on her face. “Now, I couldn’t help but notice that pretty little charm bracelet you have on. Where did you get it?”

  “It was a—” Now that I knew the truth, the word was hard to get out. “It was a gift.”

  “Oh, how delightful!” the queen clasped her hands together. “Someone had very good taste to give you that.”

  “I’m sure you have much nicer things,” I said.

  “May I try it on?” she asked. “I’m sure it’ll fit. I have delicate little wrists.”

  My heart leapt to my throat, and my body felt heavy and frozen all at once. I shook my head.

  “I can’t take it off,” I said lamely. “I’m very sorry. There’s no clasp.”

  “No clasp?” she said. Her long hair fell over her shoulder and into her lap like a golden river. “However did you get it on, then?”

  “It was put on using magic,” I said.

  At that moment, someone knocked on the door to her chambers.

  “If it was put on using magic, it can be taken off by magic,” the queen said. “Come in, Oliver!”

  My mind raced with possibilities. With the bracelet off, I could find a way out of the castle; I wouldn’t be tied to North any longer.

  “Yes, Your Majesty?” Oliver asked. He crossed the room, eyeing me warily.

  “Sydelle can’t get her bracelet off,” she said, flashing her big eyes at him. “You’ll take it off so I can try it on, won’t you?”

  “Of course,” he said, favoring her with a confident smile.

  I held out my wrist to him, looking away so I wouldn’t have to see the three blue stones and everything they had represented. It was just a piece of jewelry, nothing more.

  Nothing more.

  The moment he touched the chain, Oliver knew. Perhaps he sensed the magic woven into it, or maybe he could tell just by looking at my down-turned face. But he knew. I felt his fingers still against my skin.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t,” he said, pulling his hand away. “There’s no clasp.”

  The queen let out an annoyed sigh. “Of course there’s no clasp. She just told me it was put on by magic. So take it off using magic.”

  “Yes,” I said, through gritted teeth. “Take it off.”

  “I really don’t think I should…,” he tried, catching my eye. For the first time, he was looking at me with something other than disdain. The mask he wore as the commander of the Guard was ripped away, and standing before me was nothing more than a horrified young man.

  “Take it off, Oliver.” The queen came up to his side, sliding her small pale hand down the length of his arm.

  I felt him stiffen, his fingers poised to pull the chain apart. He closed his eyes and let out a harsh breath. There was an audible snap as the chain fell away onto the floor. I half expected a blast of emotions or a frightful storm to suddenly erupt and consume us all, but all I felt was a deathly calm as my connection with North was cut.

  “Thank you, Oliver,” Queen Eglantine said. Oliver had turned his face away, his eyes still closed as if he couldn’t bear to witness what he had just done. “You are excused. Send Pompey in on your way out. He should be waiting outside.”

  Oliver’s head snapped back toward us, caught between her tense smile and the bracelet on the floor.

  “What are you—?”

  “Good-bye, Commander Swift,” the queen said.

  He turned away from us, looking back at me urgently as he left the chamber. It wasn’t until we heard the door to her sitting room open and close that the young queen broke the silence.

  “Now,” she said, stepping on the bracelet as if it wasn’t there. “You’ll have to confirm something for me. I’ve recently heard a very nasty little rumor.”

  My body lost feeling entirely.

  “Pompey mentioned to me that he overheard a conversation between the Sorceress Imperial and her son, and do you know what he told me? He told me that you have the ability to destroy a kingdom.”

  “No!” I whispered in horror. “No, that’s not true—I would never—no, Your Majesty!”

  She folded her hands together. “I don’t claim to understand magic very well, but I do know that kind of power is a useful persuasion tool, not only for Auster’s king, but also for the Sorceress Imperial.”

  “What?” I whispered. “No, you don’t understand. I can’t control it. I don’t understand how it works.”

  “Don’t be afraid, you silly girl,” she said. “I don’t mean to kill you. The king of Auster contacted me privately just this morning, asking me if I had a visitor with your features. He said if I was willing to send you to him, he would cease his pursuit of my crown and withdraw from the war entirely.”

  “You’re trading me for peace?” I asked.

  “Yes, in a way,” Queen Eglantine said. “I’m also sending the king the means to his own destruction. Once you’re in Auster, your powers will reduce it to rubble.”

  “No!” I cried. “I told you I can’t control it!”

  “Precisely,” she said. “The king has no idea what he’s asked for.”

  I felt the weight of Pompey’s hands as they came down hard on my shoulders. My back collided with his chest, and I knew I was trapped.

  “You’re in charge now,” said the queen, looking at Pompey.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said. “I have taken care of everything. The boat is waiting and will leave for Auster as soon as she’s on it.”

  “No!” I cried, struggling against his unyielding grip. The queen crossed the room to one of the wall panels. I watched in horror as she undid a hidden latch and pulled it open, revealing a perfect escape route. Pompey pushed me into the cramped passageway ahead of him. I didn’t even realize I was screaming until the captain delivered a harsh backhanded slap and covered my mouth with his leather glove.

  “Forgive me, Sydelle,” I heard the queen call from behind us. “But I will do what I must.”

  The passage narrowed as we went farther down. I never gave up trying to fight Pompey, even as my limbs tired and he grew agitated enough to throw me against a wall.

  The long, winding path came to an abrupt end at another, larger underground passage. Moments later, thin strips of moonlight guided us out of the complete blackness of the tunnel into cold, wet air.

  In front of us was what had to be the South Gate. Beyond the imposing, black iron gate were the outlines of trading ships, trapped after the city was sealed off for war. They bobbed helplessly against the angry waters of the lake, which rose and spilled through the gate and into our small waterway. The only other path to take led deeper under the castle.

  “Are you there?” Pompey called gruffly. I looked
up at him in fear, his hand still over my lips.

  From a dark fissure in the castle’s stone wall came the shape of three large men. They approached us cautiously, silently. They wore simple clothing, nothing like the silk robes I had expected to see. Their skin was a touch darker than that of Palmarta’s natives. They had twisted the strands of their long, black hair so that each braid resembled a snake.

  I lashed out at Pompey in one last, desperate attempt to escape, but his grip across my chest increased until I thought he would crush me alive.

  “This is the girl?” one asked.

  “It is,” Pompey confirmed. “Do you have the papers?”

  The men laughed, the sound carrying through the passage.

  “What papers?” the first one asked.

  “The treaty the king promised to sign!” Pompey growled. “I need to see the proof before I give her to you!”

  “On behalf of our great king, we thank you for your assistance. Regrettably, we have to rescind our gracious offer,” the man said. “After all, this land now rightfully belongs to our king.”

  Pompey let out an enraged snarl, throwing me behind him. I screamed and stumbled back, looking up just in time to see him forced to his knees as he fought, growling and spitting like a rabid dog. I turned to run, but I wasn’t fast enough. One of the men had me by the throat.

  “You cannot be going back on your word! I know all about your ways!” Pompey yelled. “Your people see it as the highest dishonor to break an oath!”

  “Then you are in for a sorry surprise,” the leader said, pulling out a small dagger.

  The man raised his arm in a wide, graceful sweep. I watched from the ground, too stunned to move.

  I remember the sight and sound of the blood from Pompey’s throat as it splattered against the cold stone at our feet, the horrible gurgle of his last breaths, and the way his eyes went wide at the impossibility of it all. I remember how the passage caught and echoed the terrible laughter of the men as they came closer.

  But more than anything else, I remember the briefest flash of North’s hurt face in my mind and the way I cried out for him as the darkness finally swallowed me, too.