A Stone's Throw, page 23
part #2 of The Petralist Series
“He soiled her honor,” Jok called back, not lowering his fist.
“He saved her life, you block-head.”
Jok spun to shout back, and Connor saw that the speaker wore the tan coat of a Healer. Beside her, lying prone on the narrow, sloped walkway, Shona was coughing while another woman wiped at her face with a cloth.
Professor Greim appeared at the edge of the pit. “Put that linn down, Jok. Between the two of you, I think you saved her.”
Jok dropped Connor, but his fist lowered very slowly. On his face Connor could read the student’s internal struggle. He wanted to crush Connor but couldn’t ignore the orders from his teacher and the Healer. Not while others looked on.
“Geall’s over,” Jok muttered to Connor. “I keep the pendant and I’ll keep Jean when I find her. I was trying to be nice, but you don’t deserve it. You get nothing but your useless life.”
Rage drove words from his lips before he could stop himself. “Shona’s alive because I saw the danger and reacted,” Connor responded in a fierce whisper through tight lips. “For all your special powers, you lost that chance, master Jok.”
Jok growled and lunged for him. Connor dove aside and scrambled toward the far side of the mud pit where Nach and a couple other workers had lowered a rope ladder. Jok gave up the chase, but Connor was sure it was only because so many people were looking on.
Tempting the proud youth’s anger had been stupid, but Connor was glad he’d done it. They both knew he’d beaten Jok at least that much. He’d never intended to tell Jok about Jean, but he no longer needed to pretend. He still needed a plan to get the pendant back, though.
Nach hauled him out of the pit and whispered, “Better lie low for a while. They’re all pretty mad about the time you posted.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The maze,” Nach said with a grin. “You posted the best time through the maze for any non-Strider. Those students want to kill you for that.”
“Oh.” Connor hid his grin with an attempt to wipe the mud from his face. Served them right.
As he followed Nach into the underground warren of passageways beneath the Gauntlet, he started to laugh.
“Swallowed too much mud?” Nach asked.
“No, but I think I’m about to get buried by an avalanche.”
Chapter 35
Connor waited until Nach informed him that the Healer had pronounced Shona out of immediate danger and had left with the stretcher carrying her to Lord Nevan’s palace. He slipped back to the Sculpture House and used the outside rain barrel to scrub off the worst of the mud before cleaning in the building’s washroom. He then changed clothes in his own small quarters.
He mulled over everything that had happened. Although he needed more information before reaching sure conclusions, some things appeared abundantly clear. Shona would never have collapsed without some kind of foul play. She usually made the challenging course look easy. Besides, he had seen her fall like that before, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself he hadn’t seen what he saw, he knew the truth.
Ilse had sabotaged Shona, that had to be the answer. But how could she have administered the weakening agent to Shona at the Carraig? He couldn’t believe she had corrupted the powder stores he carried. He had taken the powder directly from the vault to the Rhidorroch and no one else handled it while he divided the portions. Besides, there was no way Ilse could have known which portion Shona would get.
Maybe he was missing something? For the first time, he wondered how many other enemies Shona might have at the Carraig.
If it had been Ilse, why would she have taken the risk? Ilse had proven devilishly clever in committing her forces, but even she couldn’t win an open battle at the Carraig. No doubt Shona would recognize the effects of the weakening powder, if that’s what the poison was, so why alert her to the presence of enemies?
Ilse would never commit such a terrible tactical blunder. She always calculated her moves with scary precision. The only reason he could think that she would make such an attempt on Shona was if she was planning to flee very soon.
That worried him the most. Was she leaving him?
Or would the next planned attack be directed against him?
Had he misread the captain’s intentions? It wouldn’t be the first time, but depending on how badly he had misunderstood her mission, this mistake might prove to be the last one he’d ever make. It was time to take some precautions.
Before leaving his room, Connor extracted two small pouches from under one of the floorboards of his tiny room, one of granite and the other of basalt. He had pried up the board and made a little hidden stash the first night he arrived, concealing the precious powder Ailsa had gifted to him at the start of their journey. Now he took them out and slipped them into his belt pouch.
Then he headed for Lord Nevan’s palace, looking for answers. The guards stationed outside the main entrance looked far more alert than the last time he passed, but they didn’t try to stop him.
Inside, the same silver-haired butler shook his hand vigorously. “Thank you for saving her, Son.”
“You would have done the same.”
The old fellow laughed. “Son, if I threw these old bones down that slide, helping Lady Shona would be the one thing I wouldn’t accomplish.”
Still smiling, he escorted Connor to the same spacious room he met Shona the day before. Lord Nevan was speaking with the Healer, but both of them greeted Connor warmly.
Lord Nevan again wore a rich suit over a heavily starched shirt, this one with a collar so high it scraped his jaw when he turned. The Healer looked to be in her late twenties, with steady, brown eyes and brown hair pulled back into a simple bun.
“I’ve heard much of your bravery and quick thinking today,” Lord Nevan said. “Perhaps Lady Shona was right about you.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Connor said with a little bow. “Shona is usually right.”
“Indeed,” Lord Nevan said with an approving nod. “Never forget it.”
“Is she all right?”
“She’ll be fine,” the Healer said. “Your gift of breath tipped the balance in her favor. How did you know to do that, and how did you recognize the danger before any of the rest of us?”
Connor hesitated. He couldn’t reveal anything about the weakening powder or his previous interactions with Shona to the Healer, who he knew far too little about. Shona had spoken with Lord Nevan, but how much had she revealed?
So he answered with a careful lie. “I grew up with a family member who suffered seizures and so I’m conditioned to watch for the signs.”
“It wasn’t a seizure,” the Healer said.
Lord Nevan sputtered with anger. “How dare you suggest Lady Shona suffers from such an ailment! Are you trying to destroy her credentials, boy?”
“No sir, I--”
“I will not stand for such slander,” Lord Nevan exclaimed. “If a rumor like that got out it would wreck all our negotiations.” He glared and leaned a little closer. “Who are you working for?”
“No one,” Connor exclaimed, taken aback by the unexpected outburst.
The Healer intervened. “I’m confident the episode was not related to any type of seizure.”
“I should think not,” Lord Nevan huffed.
For someone who seemed so worried that any rumors be squashed immediately, he blustered so loudly Connor didn’t doubt that every servant hovering in adjoining rooms heard more than enough to be tempted to share the juicy gossip.
“She seems to have suffered some kind of poison,” the Healer continued, “although it’s different than anything I’ve experienced before.”
“You didn’t mention poison earlier,” Lord Nevan said, looking alarmed.
“She is in no severe distress,” the Healer assured him. “It seems somehow tied with her granite power, and primarily seems to cause debilitating weakness. As soon as she awakens and purges, I believe she will feel better. I recommend a full day’s rest.”
Lord Nevan leaned closer to her, his face grave. “I have to ask you not to mention anything about debilitation of her powers to anyone else.”
“I didn’t say her powers are affected.”
He held up a hand. “Not a word, miss. Please just spread the news that she was poisoned and is recovering.”
“I can do that.”
Lord Nevan paced away, his expression thoughtful. “This is serious, even if it is but a simple poisoning.”
If that poisoning was simple, Connor wondered what a complex poisoning might look like.
“I must inform the administrators,” the Healer said.
“Only that it appears to be poison,” Lord Nevan reminded her.
“Of course. They will nonetheless frown on poisoning at the school.”
“As they should,” he snapped. “Such blatant disregard for the rules of honorable sabotage cannot be tolerated.”
The conversation was proving more and more interesting.
“Any thoughts which party might have risked such an attack?” the Healer asked.
He shrugged. “Any of the high families could have been involved. Her father has many enemies and she holds the top seat in her class in the Standings.”
Connor saw an opportunity and dared comment. “They poisoned her at the Rhidorroch.”
Lord Nevan snapped his fingers. “Exactly! Someone wanted to topple her from her standing.”
The Healer shook her head. “Today’s run won’t be counted since interference can be proven.”
“Who would most benefit from her falling in the standings?” Connor asked, trying to keep the conversation moving in the direction he hoped.
It worked.
“Jok,” both of them said together.
Connor nearly pulled a muscle in his face hiding his victorious grin.
They discussed the possibility of Jok poisoning Shona to win the coveted top spot before inter-class mock battles began. His new time had brought him to second place, and he had made no secret of his rage that a girl could best him at the games. Connor loved every moment of the conversation. No doubt the same servants he expected would spread the rumor of Shona’s ailments would eagerly share gossip about jealousy-fueled poisoning.
The Healer finally said, “I’ll share your fears with the administrators. In the meantime, Lady Shona’s handmaid appears to be surprisingly well versed in traditional medicine. She must inform me the moment Lady Shona stirs, or if there is any change in her condition.”
“I’ll tell her,” Connor offered, and they readily agreed.
An entire top-floor suite had been reserved for Shona’s use, and Connor found her expansive bedroom after passing yet another guard stationed outside her rooms. Shona lay in a gigantic, four-post bed, dressed in a soft pink nightdress, with the blankets drawn up to her shoulders. Her face and hair had been washed, and she slept peacefully. Jean sat beside her on a simple chair, and she rushed to Connor as soon as he entered the room.
She took his hands in hers, big blue eyes wide with fear. “They’re here, aren’t they?”
Ever smarter than anyone Connor knew, it didn’t surprise him that she’d guessed the connection. “I don’t know for sure if they poisoned her, but yes, I have spoken with Ilse.”
“What do they want?”
A noise turned them both back toward the door. Ilse stepped out of the shadows. “To take you both with us back to Granadure.”
Jean gasped and Connor scanned the room for the siblings, but luckily saw no signs of them. Ilse approached and Connor used the excuse of turning toward Jean to slip his hand into the pouch of granite at his belt and absorb a hefty portion.
The itchy crawl of the stone skittered up his arm and through his torso, but he barely felt the maddening need to scratch. The comfortable feel of his granite curse bolstered his confidence. Ilse also carried affinity with granite, but although she was an experienced warrior, feeling his curse skittering just under the skin, eager to answer his call, helped him feel less helpless.
He turned back to her and she paused barely four strides away. She wore a simple blue coat over black slacks and a dark gray shirt that was not quite a uniform. “Did you do this to her?”
“Indeed,” Ilse said matter-of-factly. “She’s the reason you can’t come. I am removing that obstacle.”
Jean paled and Connor fought to hide his own escalating fear. He had suspected as much, but to hear Ilse say it so simply rattled him. He could understand killing in the heat of battle, but Ilse spoke of cold-blooded murder of a person already incapacitated and unable to defend themselves. That was a side of her he had not yet seen. Never wanted to see.
“I can’t let you kill her.”
Ilse actually looked surprised. “You can’t be serious. She means to enslave you.”
“Murder is no better,” Jean snapped. She had retreated to the side of the bed and positioned herself in front of Shona, as if hoping to hold Ilse back with the power of her glare.
It would’ve worked on Connor. Jean could be downright scary when she wanted to be.
“I bear Shona no hatred. She proved a worthy adversary, but she again blocks the success of my mission.”
“No, I’m the one blocking you,” Connor said and shifted to better shield the sleeping Shona. “I told you I needed more time, and I meant it.”
“Step aside Connor, and we can leave today.”
“Where’s the letter?”
“Stop stalling.”
“We had an agreement. You get Hamish to write a letter confirming he’s all right, and I’ll figure out a way to go with you.”
Jean looked from one to the other. “Connor, are you sure?”
“No. That’s why I need the letter.”
“You can’t beat me,” Ilse said simply and her stance altered just a bit. Connor picked up on the shift and prepared to tap his own granite. If she attacked, the best he could hope for was to delay her long enough for help to arrive.
He wasn’t sure he could do it, and tried reasoning instead. “Perhaps not, but if you murder Shona, you’ll be destroying any chances of success.”
“How so?”
“She maintains patronage for me,” he said. “Without it, I’m unclaimed. I’d never make it to the border before my curse drives me into a murder-crazed monster. Where would your mission stand then?”
“In Granadure, you’d be safe,” Ilse said. “We don’t need patronage there.”
“But I’m not Grandurian,” Connor reminded her. “And in this country, patronage is required. I am Shona’s Guardian, and I will protect her, even if that means fighting you.”
Ilse hesitated, and Connor held his breath. He had seen Ilse face entire armies unflinching, had seen her defeat Shona as easily as an adult controlled an unruly child. She might not terrify him like Anika, but she was no less deadly for that.
After what seemed an eternity she scowled and shifted to a less threatening stance. “So be it, boy. But I promise you once you learn what she intends for you, you’ll wish you let me finish this today.”
“We’ll see when that day comes.” He yearned to ask her what she suspected, but didn’t dare encourage her.
“You’ll have your letter soon.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “I’ll ask Kilian about patronage, and see how other defectors have managed it in the past.”
“That’s a good idea.” For the first time, he wished Kilian had joined Ilse on the mission. That bit of knowledge would be the key element in deciding if he could leave. Until then, no matter how tantalizing the promise of freedom might be, it was nothing but empty words. He was a Guardian, Shona’s Guardian.
“I warn you now that I will have no patience with further delays,” Ilse said. Then she spun on her heel and left the room. Connor waited several long heartbeats, expecting to hear shouted alarms, but silence reigned.
The fact that Ilse could move about with such impunity, even through a well-guarded palace, astounded Connor. How did she do it? Her resourcefulness terrified him. He would need to deal with her one way or the other, because there could be no safe place to hide if she decided her best course lay in killing him.
Jean joined him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him tight, as if trying to absorb some of his strength. “How is it possible, Connor?”
He relished the feel of her so close, the springtime scent of her hair. Just knowing she knew the truth, that she shared the secret of Ilse’s mission with him helped. If anyone could figure out what was going on and how to make the best decision, it was Jean.
“Everyone keeps telling me the Carraig isn’t what it seems,” he muttered. “I’m starting to think we’re going to hate finding the truth.”
“We can’t even warn Lord Nevan,” she said with a frown.
“No. We can’t tell anyone that Ilse’s here.”
She stepped back just a bit, her face scared. “Shona may be safe, but Connor, if you choose not to go with Ilse, words won’t keep her from trying to kill you next.”
Chapter 36
All afternoon as Connor worked at the unending task of cleaning up after the sculpting students, he worried about Shona and Ilse, but couldn’t figure out what to do. Only Shona could reveal more about her plans, and it would take time for Ilse to produce the letters and bring word from Kilian. So he worked on ideas for redirecting the conflict with Catriona.
The best idea he could come up with was somehow finding a way to teach her how to better interpret the maze. She and other students needed that skill, and the professors seemed content to let them figure it out on their own. Even Professor Hector had stopped giving his students advice with the other professors around. The next day, official observers were scheduled to begin attending the Rhidorroch, so he wouldn’t get to cheat. What Connor couldn’t figure out was how to implement the idea without making things worse.
While he cleaned around Gisela’s work area, which was piled high with rubble from a large stone she was chiseling down to its core, she told him more of the nations outside of Obrion and Granadure. She spoke of the warlike Varvakans in their frigid northern kingdom. He was surprised to learn that much of the vast land controlled by Varvakis was only sparsely populated, covered in snow for most of the year.
