The Thirteenth House Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  “Sharon Shinn’s books have been on my comfort shelf

  ever since Archangel came out.”

  —Anne McCaffrey, author of Dragon’s Fire

  “Outstanding . . . A lyrical grace and deep appreciation of camaraderie reminiscent of Diane Duane at her best . . . [A] superior fantasy series.”—Publishers Weekly

  “Lyrical and entertaining fantasy . . . Peopled by well-drawn characters that readers can really bond with . . . Abounds with subtle romance and high-spirited adventure. Ideal for readers who like a little romance with their fantasy.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Shinn’s second trip to Gillengaria delights . . . Shinn seems to have an endless ability to create plausible worlds for her stories. With a blend of adventure and romance, they almost seem based on the history of a remote time rather than a place invented in her imagination. Shinn . . . always manages to surprise me, without making me feel cheated that my expectations have been thwarted. The ability to maintain that balance between familiarity and freshness should keep her readership growing.”—St. Louis Post-Dispatch

  “A compelling tale.”—Locus

  “Set in a world of noble Houses, shape-shifting mystics, and dexterous swordsmen, the sequel to Mystic and Rider further develops Shinn’s new series characters and introduces new plot elements. Shinn provides a wealth of action and a balanced cast of genuinely heroic and admirable characters.”

  —Library Journal

  “Shinn is a strong literary writer [and] especially good at writing realistic characters. Readers who enjoy romance and strong characterization will enjoy this book and the Twelve Houses series.” —SFRevu

  “A delightful tale . . . action-packed . . . Epic fantasy readers will appreciate Sharon Shinn’s stupendous story.”

  —The Best Reviews

  Praise for Mystic and Rider

  “Engaging . . . An enjoyable yarn with characters who leave you wanting more.”—Locus

  “Shinn’s novels are always surprising . . . [She] breathes life into the old tropes and spins off in new directions . . . Shinn is an engaging storyteller who moves believable characters through a fascinating landscape and interesting adventures [and] manages to do it with deep insights that make us reach into our own souls and wonder: If we were placed in the world of these characters, what would we do, and what would we believe in?”—St. Louis Post-Dispatch

  “Mystic and Rider . . . is that rarity, the opening book of a series that stands solidly as a read-alone novel. The resolution is strong enough that the reader is satisfied, and yet the potential for more left me looking forward to the next volume. Well-developed and engaging characters, an intriguing plot, plenty of action, and unforeseen twists make Mystic and Rider a great book.”—Robin Hobb, author of Fool’s Fate

  “Strong, charismatic male and female protagonists make this an excellent choice for most fantasy collections.”

  —Library Journal

  “Clean, elegant prose . . . Shinn gives us an easy, absorbing, high-quality read.”—Booklist

  “Tailor-made for the growing audience of fantasy fans who like a good juicy romance . . . Spellbinding characterizations . . . A rich beginning.”—Publishers Weekly

  “Shinn’s most successful book.”—SFRevu

  “Shinn excels at strong characterization and enthralling stories, and this first in a new series is no exception. Primary and secondary characters alike jump off the page, and the standard quest fantasy is transformed into a journey of personal discovery.” —Romantic Times

  “Definitely fun.”—Contra Costa Times

  More praise for Sharon Shinn and her novels

  “The most promising and original writer of fantasy to come along since Robin McKinley.”

  —Peter S. Beagle, author of The Last Unicorn

  “Taut, inventive, often mesmerizing.”—Kirkus Reviews

  “It doesn’t get much better than [this]—interesting characters, an intriguing mystery, a believable love story, and a satisfying ending.”—Starlog

  “Smoothly written. Shinn has a talent for creating vivid, sympathetic characters. Nuanced and intelligent. A thoroughly entertaining reading experience.”—SF Site

  “A delightful world to escape into.”—Locus

  “A solid read.”—Booklist

  “Rich with texture and diversity, and genuine characters.”

  —Anne McCaffrey, author of Dragon’s Fire

  “Romantic . . . delightful. I’m eagerly awaiting her next novel.”

  —The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction

  “Warm and triumphant.”—Publishers Weekly

  “Inventive and compelling.”—Library Journal

  Other Ace books by Sharon Shinn

  MYSTIC AND RIDER

  THE THIRTEENTH HOUSE

  DARK MOON DEFENDER

  ARCHANGEL

  JOVAH’S ANGEL

  THE ALLELUIA FILES

  ANGELICA

  ANGEL-SEEKER

  WRAPT IN CRYSTAL

  THE SHAPE-CHANGER’S WIFE

  HEART OF GOLD

  SUMMERS AT CASTLE AUBURN

  JENNA STARBORN

  Viking / Firebird books by Sharon Shinn

  THE SAFE-KEEPER’S SECRET

  THE TRUTH-TELLER’S TALE

  THE DREAM-MAKER’S MAGIC

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

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  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of th
e author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  THE THIRTEENTH HOUSE

  An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author

  Copyright © 2006 by Sharon Shinn.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without

  permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of

  the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  eISBN : 978-1-440-68387-9

  ACE

  Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ACE and the “A” design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For Debbie,

  who knows the rest of the story

  GILLENGARIA

  CHAPTER 1

  THE three men sat in the mansion’s elegantly appointed study and discussed their options. They had drawn their chairs close to the fire, because the room was huge and the spring night was chilled and drearily wet. The only true circle of comfort was within the warm glow of the leaping flames. They were all drinking port and relishing the well-being that came from the consumption of an excellent meal and the accomplishment of a difficult task.

  “We could kill him outright,” said the oldest of the men. He was tall, silver-haired, and dressed in very fine clothes. It was not his house, but his proprietary air would make an outsider think so. “That sends a strong message to the king.”

  “I am not so fond of looking a man in the eyes and stabbing him in the heart,” one of the others grumbled. He was short, dark-haired, less fashionable, and a little fretful in his manner. He was the sort of man who would point out all the risks in any enterprise, even the ones least likely to bring the whole project down. “I say we hold on to him for a while.”

  “There are ways to kill a man that do not involve violence,” said the elder. “Merely forgetting to feed him. Merely neglecting to give him a fire on a night such as this.”

  “But those methods take time, which we have very little of,” objected the third one. He was balding and heavyset, even pudgy, the kind of man who would normally appear genial. But tonight there was a calculating expression on his face. Even by friendly firelight, a certain ruthlessness molded his features. “By now, his men will be back in Ghosenhall, telling tales of outlaws on the high road. Surely even such a casual king as Baryn will guess that his regent did not fall afoul of simple highwaymen.”

  The elder turned his silver head to give the portly man a considering look. “Then you want him dead more immediately and with more intent?”

  “If we kill him, no matter how, there will be consequences,” said the fretful one. “I know you say the servants here are hand-picked, but many a servant has betrayed his lord before this.”

  “I vouch for the servants,” said the first man coldly. “There are only four in the whole place, all loyal to me.”

  “Have they seen you commit murder before?” the other asked skeptically. “If not, I do not think you can be so sure of them.”

  The elder man looked annoyed. “We must make a decision. The man is in our hands. The king will want him back. Do we trade him in return for some concessions? And thereby bring attention to ourselves and show for certain where our alliances lie? Or do we kill him and let his body be found and therefore send a different message to the king? ‘We are readying ourselves for war. We distrust you, and your royal house, and the paltry counselors you have installed to guide your daughter. You cannot mollify us by any measures.’ ”

  The other two murmured approval at this stirring speech, and the elder man leaned back in his chair to sip from his glass. “Yes, but what if the king doesn’t interpret our message just how we wish?” asked the short man after thinking it over. “What if he sees treason, not an honest cry for change? For we play a tricky game here. We are still very early in the game. Anything could go awry—and here we are in Tilt lands, on Tilt property. Marlord Gregory will be blamed for any cold body found lying about in Tilt fields.”

  “Marlord Gregory has been gracious enough to lend us his estate,” said the heavy man in a purring voice. “Surely he cannot cavil at the uses to which we put his house?”

  The short man was shaking his head. Someone who was looking closely might have noticed, even in the dark room, that he was wearing an aquamarine stud on the lapel of his jacket. A Tilt man, wearing the Tilt colors. “Gregory is very clever. He does not see how the wind blows, not yet, and he has not shown even his most loyal vassals what cards he holds. He dislikes the king—yes, and this ridiculous regent set up to rule over us if something happens to Baryn—but he is not so sure he wants to usher in the age of Gisseltess rule, either.”

  The silver-haired man gave a growl of annoyance. “Trust a Tilt to merely want to stir the pot without wanting to taste the stew,” he said in a voice holding some contempt. “Gregory cannot have it both ways. Either he works for revolution, or he does not. And revolution, my friend, is dressed in the garb of Gisseltess and wears the falcon clipped to its cloak.” Someone looking closely at him would have noticed that very same falcon embroidered on his vest. A man of Gisseltess.

  The portly man gave a light laugh. “Revolution wears more motley colors than that,” he said. “The maroon of Rappengrass, the scarlet of Danalustrous—you can find them all, if you look hard enough.” Though he himself wore no such identifying marks; it would have been hard to guess which House he represented—or plotted against. He continued. “All of us want the same things—the recognition and prestige that are due to us, which have not come our way under this king.”

  “And who’s to say it will come under Halchon Gisseltess?” demanded the Tilt man. “Eh? If he steals the throne from under Baryn’s nose? Who’s to say he will turn over any land or power to the lords of the Thirteenth House?”

  “So he will call together the nobles of the Thirteenth House,” the portly man said in a mocking voice. “He will say, ‘Too long you have been regarded as the “lesser lords.” Too long have you been vassals to the marlords of the Twelve Houses who consider themselves your superiors in every way! Let us redistribute the property and give you a higher place in society.’ ”

  “He swears he will reward us all with lands and titles of our own,” said the Gisseltess man. “If we help him win the throne.”

  “I have been promised many things by marlords in the past,” said the Tilt man in a bitter voice. “Many of those promises have been forgotten.”

  “And many have been remembered,” the older man said sharply. “Halchon has honor.”

  “As do all men who depose their king,” replied the heavy fellow in a sardonic tone.

  The older man spread his hands. “Late to be having doubts now that Romar Brendyn is locked in the attic of this house!” he exclaimed. “Whether we kill him now or we trade him back to his king, we have committed ourselves to civil dissent. And I tell you plainly, if we do not kill him, we have less room to maneuver, for we will have shown our hands. We will have stated in the clearest possible fashion that we are in opposition to our king. Whereas if he is dead . . . well, who knows whose hand may have done him in? We might be entirely guiltless. No one will be able to point at us and say, ‘You did this thing.’ We might change our minds altogether about which side we choose in this war, and no one will be the wiser.”

  “You want
to kill him then,” said the Tilt man. “You see no choice.”

  “I see many choices,” said the Gisseltess man, “but I admit that I would like to see him dead.”

  They both looked at the heavyset man, the one who had been so very cagey up till now, careful what he committed himself to either in writing or in words. Yet he had been the one to supply the funds and the manpower; he was in it up to his neck, no matter what the outcome. He was silent a long moment, as if debating, as if considering for the very first time which of the possible outcomes he preferred and what consequences they might set in motion. At last, his shoulders seeming both bulky and weightless in the shadows thrown by the firelight, he gave a shrug.