Echo in Onyx Read online

  “I can see why it would,” I said.

  “Then Edwin of Thelleron rose to power and began his campaign to unify the provinces,” Nico went on. “According to legend, he had been born with seven echoes, and all of them rode beside him when he launched the Great War. So there were eight of them leading the charge at what turned out to be the final battle. Lady Meredith of Empara led the opposition—and as she had two echoes of her own, she was better than most at discerning the original from the copy. So with her own hands, she shot the arrow that went right through Edwin’s heart.”

  “That can’t be right,” I objected. “Everyone knows he was the first king.”

  Nico nodded. “Exactly. She killed the real Edwin—but his spirit somehow flowed into the body of one of his echoes, and he continued to lead his armies forward. So Meredith shot and killed him in his new body. But again, his spirit moved on to inhabit a third one. He was so in tune with his echoes—they were so much a part of him—that it made no difference to him which body he inhabited. He could change it the way he changed a suit of armor.”

  I looked up at him suspiciously. “Is that true?”

  He laughed. “Well, it was five hundred years ago,” he said. “And who ever knows if any story is true? But I like the notion.”

  “So what happened to Lady Meredith?”

  “She managed to knock off five of the eight versions of Edwin, but before she could destroy them all, the armies clashed together. Meredith and her forces were defeated—she and her echoes were captured. He told her he would spare her life if she would let him marry her daughter, Amanda. So she did, and that’s how the Seven Jewels were united under the first king.”

  “I can’t imagine that was a very loving household,” I observed. “If I were Edwin, I would always expect to be murdered in my bed. And by that time he only had, what, two echoes left? Not very many spares!”

  “Well, that’s the interesting thing. They say that, shortly after the wedding, another echo spontaneously appeared in Edwin’s room one night. So he had three again, just as Amanda had three. And they ruled the kingdom as equals, in harmony.”

  I was skeptical. “Another echo just showed up? That seems even less believable than the notion that his spirit could move from body to body.”

  “I know,” Nico replied. “But maybe you’ve heard tales about Queen Toriana. The early histories say she had four echoes—but the later ones say five. One theory is that she, too, benefited from the arrival of a spontaneous new echo one strange night.”

  “Why would she need another one?”

  “The explanation I’ve read is that she was negotiating with foreign visitors and more echoes gave her more consequence.”

  I privately doubted either story could be true, but both were certainly interesting. I didn’t ask more questions, though, because by that time we had reached the base of the hill and started walking down the main city streets. Traffic was heavier and conversation more difficult, so we fell back on desultory topics. I pointed out a few prominent buildings, and he asked what local foods he should try. I noticed as we passed a temple that he casually touched his fingertips to his forehead, heart, and mouth. A religious man, then. Although I was not particularly devout myself, for some reason it pleased me that he was.

  “Here we are at the manor,” I said as we finally strolled up to our destination. We came to a halt at the front entrance, the one that led to the great central atrium, though once Nico departed I planned to circle around and go inside through the back door. There was the usual commotion of people leaving and arriving; this entrance was never quiet. I waved at Rory when he hurried by, and I saw him give Nico a quick appraisal before he slipped around back. “I expect you’ll be here a great deal once Prince Cormac arrives.”

  “I expect I will,” he said. He reached out to flick the pink petals of one of the roses that had escaped destruction. “And I might browse through the flower markets from time to time, to see what the vendors have brought in for sale.”

  “The flower markets,” I repeated, trying to hide my smile. “Somehow I hadn’t pegged you as a man who would be interested in anything so frivolous. Perhaps I am not as good at assessing people as I always thought.”

  He grinned. “I’m adaptable,” he said. “I like to learn new things.”

  “Well, I myself go to the markets every few days,” I said. “Perhaps I’ll see you there.”

  He smiled, gathered the reins more tightly, and swung himself onto the glistening black horse. “I’m counting on it,” he said. “I’m sure it will be the most interesting venue in the city.”

  I was still smiling as I executed a brief curtsey and turned away from him, making my way around the side of the building to the entrance in the back. I was a little surprised to see Rory loitering there, clearly waiting for me. His expression was strained and I felt a flicker of apprehension tremble down my spine. Had something happened to Marguerite?

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, when he started forward to meet me a few steps away from the door.

  “How do you know him? Why were you talking to him?” he demanded without any preface.

  “Know who? What are you talking about?”

  “That man—the one you were with by the front door! Don’t you know who he is?” When I shook my head, he looked even more uneasy. “Nico Burken. The king’s inquisitor.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  It was three days before Marguerite needed me to return to the flower markets. I couldn’t decide if I was glad or sorry. I told myself that Nico Burken wouldn’t be there, anyway—surely the king’s inquisitor must have more important things to do than loiter among the flower stalls, admiring the roses. Such as interrogating criminals and gathering information for the crown.

  So it was with mixed emotions that I learned, on that third day, that Marguerite had a commission for me.

  “The prince arrives tomorrow and my mother says she needs me all day to finalize plans,” Marguerite told me as I brushed her hair into the simple style she wore when no guests were expected. “Would you be willing to run some errands?”

  “Of course. What do you need?”

  “First, flowers to accent the dresses we’ve picked for the next few days.” We had spent several enjoyable hours going over wardrobe options and deciding which accessories should go with each dress, so I knew very well the colors I needed to match. “And then—” She paused and pressed her lips together as if trying to hold back words.

  I met her gaze in the mirror. “Anything else? I won’t mind.”

  Her pretty face showed indecision and something else I couldn’t quite identify. Something darker. “It’s just that—you told me once— There’s a message that I’d like delivered, but I don’t want my mother to know—” She folded her lips together again.

  I put aside the hairbrush, set my hands on her shoulders, and continued to regard her in the mirror. “I’ll take the message,” I said quietly. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  She stared back at me, her expression earnest. No—pleading. No. Desperate. “It’s just that it’s so important.”

  “Then I’ll make sure it’s delivered.”

  She dropped her eyes and began playing with her rings. “You remember the temple where we went a few days ago? There was a priestess who gave us all blessings? Taeline. If you deliver the message to her, she’ll make sure it gets sent on.”

  I tried not to be hurt. “You don’t trust me to take it to whoever is supposed to receive it?” I asked, lifting my hands.

  She spun around in her chair and raised her gaze to mine again. “I do trust you, Brianna, but you don’t know—you don’t understand. Anybody could see you leaving the mansion and follow you. Del Morson—he watches everyone in the household, though my brothers don’t believe it! My mother’s maid—she could see you leaving, get curious, and go after you. One of the footmen. Anyone. I just have to be so careful.”

  I nodded, mollified. I couldn’t imagine who she was so determined to
get in touch with, but if the note was that clandestine, she was right to take this tortuous path. “The temple is safe. I see that,” I answered. “I’ll be happy to take a note.”

  She tried a smile. “And not read it.”

  Now I allowed myself to look insulted, but in an exaggerated way so she knew I was only playing. “My lady. I don’t know what kind of inferior servants you have engaged in the past—”

  “Well, Daniella couldn’t read, but Winifred could, and I didn’t dare trust a private letter to her hands,” Marguerite answered. “And you can read, too, because I’ve seen you with a book.”

  “I can,” I said. “But I won’t.”

  “Will you be offended if I seal it?”

  “No. But even if I would be, it’s not my place to say so!”

  Her smile grew a little more genuine. “Well, you’re the one person I can’t afford to alienate,” she said. “So I want to be sure.”

  I dropped a low curtsey, as deep as I’d give to the queen. “You can always be sure of me.”

  About a half hour later, I slipped out of the mansion and headed toward the temple, the sealed letter in my pocket. The slim, folded packet felt like a live coal that might catch my dress on fire. Not because I was burning to read it, but because Marguerite was so on edge that I caught some of her agitation. It seemed as if everyone who glanced my way would be able to tell I was carrying combustible goods—I felt more at risk than if I had filled my pockets with gold and was running through the poorest neighborhoods of Oberton, dribbling coins behind me. If I happened to encounter Del Morson and he so much as glanced my way, I was sure my face would flame with guilt and I would freeze to the spot.

  Fortunately, I did not meet him on my way to the temple. Not him or any other inquisitor who might be temporarily residing in the city.

  I went on foot, since there was no reason to have a royal coachman know my destination, and I made it to the temple with no trouble. Just as well, since my mind was occupied with trying to figure out who Marguerite was trying to contact.

  It seemed most likely that she had fallen in love with some unsuitable man—maybe a noble, maybe not, but certainly not Prince Cormac—and she was either bidding him farewell or telling him to keep his distance until the prince and his party had left the city. Her level of despair had seemed so great that I guessed she believed she would never be allowed to marry him, even if it turned out that King Harold didn’t want her for Cormac’s bride. This led me to think he was probably a low noble, or maybe even a merchant. Or already married to someone else.

  I supposed there could be other reasons she needed to carry on a secret correspondence. Maybe she had committed an indiscretion and someone was blackmailing her. Maybe she had incurred great debt and was trying to structure a plan of repayment. I thought it less likely that she was addicted to one of the powerful narcotics that had brought both higher- and lower-class citizens to ruin, since I’d never seen any evidence of such a vice. But in truth, most people are very good at hiding things they don’t want anyone else to know. And Marguerite was clearly hiding something.

  When I arrived at the temple, I paused briefly outside to say a prayer in front of the fountain, then I stepped through the door into the cool, dimly lit interior. As before, there were a few other people sitting on the benches, praying or meditating. As before, two priestesses moved among them, offering advice or benedictions. Neither of them was the one I had come to find. I took a seat in the very last pew, folded my hands in my lap, and stared at the goddess statues lined up on the front dais. Justice, joy, mercy. Which goddess would oversee this particular errand? I was putting my money on mercy.

  I had been there maybe ten minutes when one of the priestesses slipped into the pew and sat beside me. “Have you come here today to seek guidance or merely to settle your soul in silence?” she asked in a pleasant voice. I liked the idea of settling my soul. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to manage it during this outing, however.

  “I need guidance, but I need to speak to Taeline,” I said. “She understands my troubles.” I found the words awkward to say, but Marguerite had assured me many people found it easier to pour their hearts out to one priestess over another, and no one would find the request strange.

  “I will fetch her.”

  Another five minutes and then Taeline was the one dropping gracefully to the bench at my side. I couldn’t tell from her quick glance if she recognized me from my one previous visit. “What can I help you with today?” she asked.

  “I brought you a message.”

  At that, she stiffened very slightly and then relaxed. “I see.”

  “I was told you could deliver it to the right person.”

  “I will happily do so. Just put it on the bench while we talk.”

  I casually reached into my pocket and casually laid the folded paper between our bodies. She did not immediately reach for it. “I don’t really have much else to talk about,” I said.

  She smiled slightly. “Perhaps not. But since you have requested my attention, it will look very odd if you do not at least ask me for a prayer or two.”

  “You might pray for the governor’s daughter,” I said. For some reason, I did not think I should use Marguerite’s name. “I think she is not very happy.” “We all pray for her every day,” Taeline replied. “And for the governor and his wife and their sons, and for the king and queen and their children, and for all the people of the Seven Jewels. All of them. Every day.”

  I think Marguerite deserves extra attention, I thought. I had no idea what else I should say, so to pass the time, I started asking questions. “How long have you been a priestess?”

  “Three years. And an acolyte for three years before that.”

  I gave her a quick sideways look. As before, I found it hard to read much in her serene face, but I thought it unlikely that anyone could attain the rank of priestess before the age of twenty-one. So she was probably at least twenty-four. Most likely a little older. “Do you like the life?”

  “I do. I love the goddess, but what I was not expecting was how much I would love the people of Oberton. They come to the temple with all their sorrows and all their joys, and I am reminded every day of the richness and complexity of human existence.”

  “But you stay apart from it,” I pointed out. “You don’t participate in it.”

  Now she turned to gaze at me, her brown eyes appraising. “I can see why you might think that,” she said. “But it feels to me as if I am in the middle of all of it every day. It does not feel at all vicarious.”

  I savored the word, which I had not come across often. “Even so, I think I would find such a life too narrow.”

  “What would you describe as your ideal life?”

  I smiled. “The one I’m living now.”

  “Ah, but to me, a life in service to a human master would seem to be the narrow one,” Taeline replied. “Confined to one person’s desires, limited to that person’s experiences.”

  “Maybe, but my mistress’s experiences are likely to be pretty broad.” I gestured toward the temple door. “And I am not always at her side. There is much of the world I can see on my own.”

  “Then you sound like you are indeed happily situated,” she agreed. “A lucky thing for both of you.”

  As she spoke, she let her hand rest on the letter lying on the bench, and as she stood up, she absentmindedly tucked the envelope into her pocket. “I must attend to other matters,” she said as I hastily came to my feet. “I hope you will return in the days ahead.”

  Which was when I realized that Marguerite might be expecting an answer from her correspondent. The chances were good that I might soon seem to be the most devout person in the governor’s mansion. “I’m sure I will,” I said, following her into the aisle.

  She stopped and faced me. “Tomorrow, even.”

  “I will see what activities are on my lady’s schedule.”

  She nodded and lifted her hand, and I leaned slightly forward into her
benediction. Head, heart, mouth. Justice, mercy, joy. “Then I will see you whenever there is time.”

  My only answer was a nod in return. She made her way down the aisle, heading for an older man who had just settled on a bench, and I turned toward the door. I stopped for a moment as soon as I stepped outside because the sunny day was almost painfully bright after the dimness of the temple. I was still squinting into the distance when I was startled by a man’s voice directly behind me.

  “A benediction upon your head,” he said. I whirled around to find myself staring at Nico Burken.

  “And upon yours,” I replied, but my tone was more accusatory than benevolent. My expression wasn’t very friendly, either.

  He didn’t seem to notice or, at any rate, didn’t seem to mind. He looked quite cheerful as he smiled at me—and his expression and the curly hair as well as the bright sunlight were all conspiring to make me want to smile back. “You haven’t been to the flower market in three days,” he said.

  “And you have? I hope you didn’t make the vendors nervous with your loitering.”

  “Oh, I made enough purchases to keep them happy. With the result that my rented rooms are now overflowing with blossoms. So it’s the maids at the inn who are wondering what I might be up to.”

  That made me laugh, to my great annoyance. “Well, that’s where I’m headed now, but if you’ve already been there this morning—”

  “I’m happy to return,” he said, falling in step beside me as I began to walk in that direction. He seemed to be on foot; at any rate, I didn’t spot his horse nearby. “I can advise you on which sellers are running bargains today.”