Page 51 of House of Dusk

YENERIS

T he Heron carried a crackling charge, like a storm cloud sweeping across the sky.

It was unnerving. Before, he had been so slippery, fading into the walls, easily overlooked.

He still wore the same simple stone-colored robes, still had the same paper-pale skin and colorless eyes.

But somehow, now, he seemed taller. He moved with purpose and power.

It sent a chill down Yeneris’s spine.

He paused, scanning the room, then gestured to the remaining servants and the physician. “Leave.”

Yeneris jerked her gaze away, pretending not to see the command. She felt his eyes rest on her briefly, then shift away. She was unimportant. She let out a thin breath, watching him from the corner of her vision.

“Lacheron.” Hierax stood. “What’s wrong?” He glanced past the man, to the door, now shut behind him.

“Where is Ichos?” Sinoe demanded, her voice threading higher. “Is he—?”

“Your brother remained in the north,” said Lacheron smoothly. “He hunts your enemies, sire. Others who bear the Serpent’s mark. Who plot his return.”

“Then why are you here?” Sinoe inched herself higher, scowling. “Why aren’t you with him?”

Lacheron ignored the princess. He bowed deeply to Hierax, tugging something from the folds of his robe: a sheathed blade about as long as Yeneris’s forearm. “My king. Letheko, the blade of oblivion, at long last restored to its rightful wielder.”

The leather was old and dark, with no ornamentation, but Hierax accepted it as reverently as if it were forged of gold. He sucked in a breath, then pulled the blade free, holding it aloft.

The dagger was obsidian, deep as the darkness between the stars. It seemed to drink in the light of the room. Like the sheath, the blade itself was simple, with no etchings, no gems, a bare hilt bound with black leather.

“So. The ashdancers had it all along?” Hierax grimaced, snapping the blade back into the sheath.

“Yes. To their own detriment. If Agia Halimede had revealed it sooner, we might have been able to prevent the tragedy.”

“What tragedy?”

“An attack. It seems that one of their number was corrupted by the Serpent. She summoned a host of skotoi to destroy her own temple. The other ashdancers defended themselves well and bravely, but several perished, including the agia.”

Yeneris felt the world shift slightly. It seemed impossible.

The ashdancers were holy warriors of the Phoenix.

They carried the sacred spark of the god-beast within them.

Surely if anyone could stand against an attack of ghouls, it was them.

There must be more to the story. She was sure of that.

The agia must have had good reason to keep the blade from Hierax.

Yeneris would have liked to meet such a woman, someone willing to stand up to the king.

But now she was dead, and the blade was here, in the king’s hands. Nothing suspicious about that. Yeneris wanted to ask how many skotoi there had been, but she dared not draw the Heron’s attention. She was fairly certain she knew the answer already. Around four dozen.

“Fortunately Agia Beroe has taken charge of the temple,” Lacheron continued, “and she stands ready and willing to do her part to ensure the Ember King’s victory, by reuniting him with his Faithful Maiden at long last.”

A sick feeling spun through Yeneris. It took all her strength to hold herself still, to keep her expression cool, especially when she felt Sinoe’s eyes turn to her.

“That’s...wonderful news,” the princess said, brightly. “It’s just as the Fates decreed. Is she here now?”

“No,” said Lacheron, and Yeneris was finally able to suck in a breath. “The ashdancers needed time to tend their wounded and mourn their dead. But I expect Agia Beroe and her party will be here by the solstice. A fitting day for your wedding, sire.”

Yeneris ground her teeth. The solstice was in five days. Five days to puzzle out Sinoe’s vision and ensure that both she and the kore were free of this place, of these men and their dreams of glory.

Was it glory that Lacheron dreamed of? Hierax did, no doubt of that. It was in his every movement, the way he was constantly watching to see that those around him paid him heed, gave him the admiration and respect he thought he deserved.

The Heron, though. What did he want? It was still a mystery. And more and more, it was a mystery that had its teeth in her, in Sinoe, in all of them.

“Just as our Sibyl of Tears has foretold,” said Hierax, nodding proudly at Sinoe.

“And now I have the power I need to protect our people. This attack on Stara Bron only confirms our fears. The Serpent seeks to return, and his minions will lay down a carpet of blood and tears before him. But we will not allow him to bring another cataclysm to the world!”

It would have been a thrilling speech, if Yeneris believed one word of it. But it was all lies. True prophecy twisted to serve some other purpose. She watched Lacheron, and thought she caught the faintest hint of a smile twitching his lips.

“Indeed, my king.”

“But Ichos is the one who’s out there fighting them,” Sinoe protested. “If he’s hunting down these serpent mystics, why doesn’t he have the fancy serpent-slaying dagger? Why is it here?”

“Because your brother is not the Ember King.”

“So you’ll just let him go off alone to fight your enemies?”

“Calm yourself, daughter,” said the king, all traces of his former indulgent concern gone. “You don’t want to upset yourself again.”

“So it’s true?” Lacheron turned to Sinoe. “I was informed that there was an incident in the Queen’s Chamber. You were gifted a vision?”

“Yes,” Sinoe replied brightly. “I saw my father united with the Faithful Maiden. She stepped from a pillar of flame, gold and silver in her bridal veil. It was beautiful.”

“I’m sure it was.” Lacheron’s words were oddly clipped. He shifted his gaze to Yeneris so suddenly she startled. “You. You were with her?”

Yeneris coughed. “Yes, my lord. It’s as the princess said.”

“What exactly did she say?”

Fates. Calm. Calm. Surely he wouldn’t expect her to remember that. She let a trace of shame into her voice. “I don’t recall the exact words, sir. I’m sorry. It was so quick, and then the princess was weeping blood and I had to give her the tonic.”

Lacheron frowned. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned the blood tears. Then again, this was the Heron. He’d probably already heard a full report.

“Yes,” said Sinoe. “It was very distressing. But I’m fine now. Only sorry to have caused such a fuss.” She gave a light, brittle laugh.

It did nothing to soften Lacheron’s expression. “You must take better care, princess. The gift of the Fates is a heavy burden. Even the strongest of men would find it a challenge to bear.”

Oh? Not so great a challenge as my dagger in your throat, you miserable git. Yeneris caught herself just in time to keep from reaching for the blade tucked under her sleeve.

Sinoe, too, was clearly fighting for control. Her lips pressed tight and she was plucking at the coverlet. “Yes. Of course.”

Lacheron turned to Hierax. “Perhaps it’s time to consider the measures we spoke of, sire. For your daughter’s safety.”

“Measures? What measures?” Sinoe’s gaze flashed briefly to Yeneris, then back again. “I’m fine, Father. It won’t happen again.”

“No.” Hierax nodded to Lacheron. “It will not. How long will it take to prepare?”

“I took the liberty of stopping at my workshop on my way here,” said Lacheron, drawing a pouch from his belt, tipping the contents into one hand.

At first Yeneris feared it was the amber hairpin from Kizare. But that was safely tucked back into her own sash along with the note promising Sinoe’s escape. This was something else.

A golden band, etched with curling lines that drew her eyes like clouds, seeking a pattern that wasn’t quite there. Sinoe looked as confused as Yeneris by the trinket. She looked to the king. “Father, what—” She yelped, trying to pull back as Lacheron began to slide the bracelet over her hand.

The king’s heavy hand fell onto her shoulder, holding her. “It’s for your own good. A protection to keep you safe.”

There was a sharp click and Lacheron withdrew. Hierax released Sinoe’s arm, and she stared at the bracelet. “Wh-what is it?” She touched the band, only to pull back with a sharp cry.

Yeneris started forward, to do what she had no idea, except that she would very much like to punch the king in the face. But Sinoe’s warning look halted her.

“Since you cannot control your gift,” said Hierax, “Lord Lacheron offered a way to control it for you. The bracelet will silence the voices of the Fates.”

Sinoe’s lips parted. She gave a strange, high laugh. “You think you can bind the voices of the Fates? You think it’s your place to silence them?”

“Only temporarily,” said Lacheron. “Your father may remove it when there is need.” He twitched the folds of his robe, tugging free a slender amulet dangling from a fine chain.

He held it out to the king. Yeneris had a brief glimpse of what looked like writing or possibly star signs painted onto the red clay, before Hierax’s hand closed around it.

“How does it work?” the king asked, frowning at the thing.

“A simple resonant binding,” said Lacheron. “Break the amulet, and the bracelet will open. I’ll prepare another, so it’s ready, should we have need of it.”

Sorcery . Yeneris bit the inside of her cheek. What sort of power could do this? Nothing that came from the god-beasts. Was it true, then, that the Heron treated with the nameless powers of the abyss?

Clearly Hierax did not care. Or at least, not enough to reject the magics. He nodded, returning his attention to Sinoe. “You carry a sacred gift, daughter. We cannot allow you to squander it. Or bring yourself to harm.”

Sinoe said nothing. She wrenched her gaze down, staring at the bracelet.