Page 24 of House of Dusk

YENERIS

Y eneris snuck out two nights later. She waited until Sinoe was asleep, then another hour to be safe. When she moved to the window, Tami creeled faintly from the cage, but a handful of her favorite dried lamb quieted her.

Sinoe had said nothing of returning the ailouron to the Scarthians.

If anything, she lavished more attention on the creature than ever, feeding her choice treats, grooming her feathers to a mirror gloss.

She’d shocked Yeneris by waking at dawn that morning in order to take Tami to the gardens.

They’d watched the ailouron fly, her wild swoops making both of them laugh.

But there had been a ghost of sorrow in the princess’s eyes.

Yeneris shoved all thought of Sinoe’s eyes aside. Tonight, she belonged to Bassara. Tonight, she was herself again. Holding that thought close, she slipped out into the night.

She still didn’t trust the wisteria to hold her, but that was all right, because she was going up, not down. She gripped the ornate casement and pulled herself up. This was one of the advantages to the excessive ornamentation the Helissoni favored. It made scaling the palace exterior much easier.

A few minutes later she was on the roof, padding lightly across the crimson tiles.

She’d scouted the route during her first week, when she first heard the rumor that the reliquary was in the south wing.

Too risky to do more at the time. But now that she’d seen the interior, she at least had some better sense of where to go.

Still a risk. Maybe she was being a fool.

But the memory of the kore dressed as a puppet queen haunted her.

And it wasn’t as if she were planning to take on all eight guards single-handedly—though she had to admit a part of her brain was playing out that exact scenario, and even insisting on including Sinoe as an admiring observer, which was ridiculous, since if the princess had known what she was up to she’d be anything but admiring.

No, she would play this smart. From what Yeneris had seen, the south wing was laid out in almost a mirror to the north. Which meant that there was a good chance that it would have the same air shafts in the ceiling. If she could make it onto the roof undetected, that might give her a way inside.

Harder to get back out again, of course. She’d need rope, which might be tricky.

Everything was going just fine until she reached the southwest tower.

There were four of these tall spires, one at each corner of the palace.

Yeneris had bypassed the northwest tower easily enough, spidering her way around just beneath the circular balcony—the same balcony from which she and Sinoe had watched the prince depart.

It should have been easy enough to do the same at the southwest tower. Except for the foxwings that had decided to build a nest right between what would have been her third and fourth handholds.

She heard the warning chitter just in time to snatch back her hand, narrowly avoiding the stab of sharp teeth. Cursing silently, she tried to work her way back. Maybe she could get around the other side?

The foxwing gave another warning chitter, louder this time.

“Shh!” Yeneris hissed. “I’m not trying to steal your babies.”

Voices rumbled above, and she smothered another curse. So much for her cunning plan. All she could do now was try to get back to the roof as fast as possible, hoping that her plain dark clothing would hide her, or at least obscure her identity for long enough to escape.

But there would be a cost. If the guards saw an intruder, they would increase patrols, maybe even set soldiers on the rooftops. There would be no second chance.

This was what she got for being rash. She should have waited to contact Mikat before acting. She’d let her emotions rule her, and now she was on the brink of utter failure.

“Excuse me.” A familiar voice drifted from above, sweet and innocent as a daggerdove. “Sergeant Ophus?”

“Princess? What are you—”

“I’m here on the business of the Fates, of course. I have a message for you.”

“A m-message?” The man sounded terrified.

“Your wife has just started her labors. I believe it will be your firstborn child?”

“What? Now? But the physician said it wouldn’t be for another two weeks.”

“Do you think the physician knows better than the Fates?” Sinoe demanded. “Go on, then. You should be with her.”

“But I can’t—”

“I’ve informed the watch commander. Someone else will be along shortly to take your post. Go on. Say hello to your daughter from me.”

“A girl? She’s a girl?”

There was the faintest suggestion of a sigh. Then a hasty, “Of course, Bright One. Thank you. Thank you for letting me know.” Then the quick thud of feet, retreating down the steps.

Yeneris had frozen at the first sound of Sinoe’s voice. There was still a very slim chance that the princess didn’t know she was here.

“Are you coming up from there or not?” called Sinoe. “Believe me, I’m nothing compared to a foxwing defending her nest.”

Yeneris grimaced, and began hoisting herself up. She disagreed. Princess Sinoe was a threat far greater than any foxwing.

“Well?” Sinoe prompted, after Yeneris slung herself over the ledge and onto the balcony.

Yeneris straightened. “Well, what, princess?”

Sinoe rolled her eyes. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing gallivanting around the palace rooftops at midnight?”

“I thought I heard an intruder.” She kept her features calm, her voice even.

“And you didn’t alert the guard?”

“I didn’t want to cause a panic. If I was wrong. Which I was. It was only the foxwing.”

“Mmm. I see.”

Yeneris followed Sinoe to the stairs, trying not to feel chastened.

The princess did not speak again until they were crossing the myrtle courtyard.

She halted beside the central pool, kneeling to dabble her fingers in the water.

Sleek silver fish rose to the surface, burbling eagerly.

Sinoe pulled a crust of bread from her sleeve and began breaking it into crumbs over the water. “I know you’re Bassaran.”

Surprisingly, Yeneris didn’t freeze. Her heart continued to thump steadily. In a way, it was a relief. Except for the part where she might need to flee for her life.

“Or you have Bassaran ancestors.”

“You scried it.” Of course she had. Foolish to think she could deceive a woman who heard the whispers of the Fates.

Sinoe scoffed. “I’m actually capable of figuring some things out on my own, you know. The Fates didn’t tell me that man’s daughter was being born. I overheard his watch commander. I have eyes. And ears. And I know that the Bassarans don’t call skotoi by that name. They call them ghouls. Yes?”

Yeneris nodded. Pointless to lie now. But Sinoe might not know all of it. There were plenty of Helissoni with Bassaran heritage. Trade had brought some, and others had fled north after the cataclysm shattered the isles. She could still salvage this.

“And then there’s Ambassador Opotysi’s son Hura. His father is Bassaran. He’s the one who told me about the salt.”

“Salt?”

“How Bassarans always take salt from the cellar with their left hand. Something to do with the queen who founded the city holding an olive bough in one hand and salt in the other? Is that right?”

Ah. If she survived, she’d have to let Mikat know. Such small things to betray her. A pinch of salt. A single word.

Sinoe tossed another handful of crumbs, then held out the rest to Yeneris. “Here, try it. It’s very soothing. Just watch out for that big orange one, he’s always trying to steal everyone else’s supper.”

Yeneris took the crust. It was good to have something to busy her hands.

“I don’t blame you for keeping it quiet,” said Sinoe. “I haven’t told anyone. You’ve done your job. And you’ve kept my secrets. It’s only fair I keep yours.”

“You’re not worried I might mean you harm?”

Sinoe’s eyes were dark pools, drinking her in. “No. I don’t believe you will.”

“Because of a vision?”

“Because you like me, even if I infuriate you sometimes.” She cocked her head. “Are you trying to do an impression of the carp? If so, I think you need to open your lips just a bit wider.”

Yeneris slammed her mouth closed. What should she say now? How much more did Sinoe know? Clearly she didn’t believe Yeneris’s story of chasing a phantom intruder. Maybe she ought to speak bluntly, as the princess did.

“You still haven’t told me what you were really doing,” Sinoe said. “Was it the Faithful Maiden?”

“Yes,” admitted Yeneris. “I wanted to see her.” The truth, but not the whole truth.

“I understand she’s a holy figure to your people as well as mine,” said Sinoe. “But you call her something else, don’t you?”

Carefully now . Sinoe was too confident; it made it too easy to believe there was trust between them. “The Bassarans call her kore .”

“Will you tell me more?” Sinoe asked. “We can talk here. No one will hear you over the fountains.”

How had Sinoe had learned that trick? Who else had she needed to whisper secrets with? Yeneris’s stomach tightened. Could she do this? Should she?

She thought of her younger self, asking her mother why they couldn’t just tell Hierax the true story.

She took a breath, and began. “They say that she was a priestess of the House of Midnight. Dedicated to the Scarab, with the dark earth in her bones. Flowers bloomed from her footsteps and her breath was sweet as wine.”