Page 92 of The Ragpicker King
“It wasn’t the first time I’ve had that feeling—often I have it just when I wake up from a dream—but it was more powerful than before. More frightening.”
“I would guess Her Highness has been in Castellane for some time. Making plans. Working with these conspirators of hers. You have a Source-Stone, and we know now that she does as well. It is possible they can somehow sense each other.”
Lin had frozen. “Does that mean she knows about me?”
“I don’t think so,” he’d said, but slowly, as if he could not be sure. “You sensed her when she drew on her stone, which must be suffused with great power to fuel the magic she can do. You have yet to use yours for more than healing magic—and Elsabet Belmany would expect healing magic from the Ashkar. Even if she sensed it, she would not note it as unusual.”
“Should I be—looking for her? Trying to find where she’s hiding out?”
“No,” he’d said sharply. “She doesn’t know about you, and I believe we should keep it that way. The longer Elsabet Belmany remains unaware of Lin Caster, the better.”
Lin turned over in her bed. She could not help but wish that the first time she had sensed another magic-user in the world, it had been anyone but Elsabet Belmany. The Malgasi remained, in her mind, a symbol of horror, of vicious wolf-faced murderers whohung Ashkar children from makeshift gallows and proclaimed it a victory over evil. At least now, she supposed, she could begin to understand how the Malgasi had turned their population against the Ashkar people so quickly and so thoroughly when the Ashkar had lived in Favár for generations of peace. They had used their power. Of that she had no doubt.
When Lin fell asleep at last, she tumbled into awful dreams in which a captor whose face she could not see bound her arms and legs with long strips of cloth in different colors: a scarlet rope tied her ankles, while one wrist was bound with blue and the other with black. She cried out as her limbs were dragged painfully in different directions. “Hush,” said her captor, “do not struggle, and it will go easier for you.”
The voice was Conor’s.
The next morning Lin awoke to discover Chana at her front door, carrying the report that one of the Shomrim had been injured on the wall when a ladder had broken. Lin spent a feverish time nursing him through the worst of his recovery, as what was broken in him knitted itself back together with the help of medicine and amulets.
She finally made it back to her own house two days later, where she realized to her horror that today was the day the Hierophant of the city was meant to bless the wedding of Conor and his new bride, and that she was required to be there to meet the Marivent carriage in Valerian Square. She took herself off to the kitchen to find a tisane for her head, glumly wondering if there was anything in the world she wanted to do less than watch the betrothal of Conor Aurelian and Anjelica Iruvai be blessed by the Hierophant. Mayesh had promised a good view, which seemed worse than a bad one. Hopefully the carriage would arrive for her not too late after noon.
She dressed and went to the Etse Kebeth, where she found Mariam on her toes in front of the small mirror, winding silver ribbons into her hair. The moment she saw Lin, her face fell.
“You’re not wearingthat,are you?” she said.
Lin glanced down at her perfectly serviceable gray linen dress. It had a hole near the hem where she’d spilled a preparation of burdock root, but who was looking at hems?
“It’s an event, the blessing,” Mariam said. “Everyone will be dressed up. And aren’t you going to the Palace afterward?”
“Just to see a patient,” Lin protested as Mariam—who was wearing a blue dress in sprigged muslin, with fashionable gathers at the wrists and hem—went to her wardrobe and began to look through it, humming.
“Well, the patient will be stunned by how glamorous you look, and meanwhile you will not embarrass our people by turning up in Valerian Square looking like a rag-and-bone seller.” Mariam drew a dress of dove-gray satin from the wardrobe and held it out to Lin. “Wear this,” she said. “It will make your eyes look more green.”
“As though anyone will notice,” Lin muttered, but she went to change anyway. In truth, she had to admit to herself she was glad her grandfather had told her to bring Mariam to the square. Mariam’s delight in the pageantry of the event was simple and uncomplicated in a world where nothing felt simple or uncomplicated anymore.
“You know,” Mariam called as Lin struggled into the slippery gray fabric, “whatever Princess Anjelica is wearing, everyone will be wanting something similar immediately. Did you see her on the back of that magnificent elephant?”
Lin had to admit she hadn’t—though not, of course, why.
“She’s absolutely stunning. If she chooses to, she’ll be setting the fashions for the next decade or so. In fact, it will likely happen whether she chooses it or not.”
Lin made a noncommittal noise and rejoined Mariam in the bedroom. She let Mariam tie her thick hair back with a blue silk cord, then hurried the both of them out of the Etse Kebeth, pausing only to hug Chana, who was boiling leaves in the kitchen.
With her satchel slung over her shoulder, Lin made her way upthe Ruta Magna arm in arm with Mariam. It was a bright day, the sun high in a cloudless sky. Valerian Square was packed with people, as Lin had expected, but she was surprised to find that a serious mood prevailed. There was none of the festive spirit of the Independence Festival, no food and drink sellers mingling through the crowd, nor any music or impromptu dancing. There seemed a general public feeling that this was a solemn occasion, as if even the children—scrub-faced and neatly dressed, holding their parents’ hands—felt they were there to witness an important moment in the history of the city.
A wooden dais, almost a stage, had been erected in front of the Temple. It was draped with cloth-of-gold, and upon it stood an arched canopy of the shimmering velvet Mariam calledluminància,held aloft by two pillars of marble wrapped with flowers. A crowd of Castelguards was gathered near the Temple steps—Lin recognized Benaset among them—and Lin squinted, trying to see if Mayesh was among the Palace throng.
“Well,Ithink it will be good for Castellane to have this new Princess,” Mariam said, and Lin realized with a guilty start that she had been paying little attention to her friend’s chatter.
“Really?” Lin leaned against one of the square’s gold lions. “Why?”
“Marriages, babies, those are happy things. They lift people’s spirits.” Mariam stuck her tongue out at Lin. “I’d think a physician would know that.”
“Free beer also raises people’s spirits,” Lin noted. “They ought to be giving that out, if they want everyone in a good mood.”
Mariam laughed. “You have no sense of pageantry.” She looked thoughtfully at the Temple. “You know, before the Sundering, a king or queen who was to marry might ride to the Temple on the back of a dragon, or accompanied by a phoenix. Can you imagine such a fire?”
Lin thought of the charred earth of her dream. “Such glory brings with it great dangers.”
