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She bit the inside of her cheek hard, until it bled. Her faintness evaporated. She looked at the stairs before her. Like those inside, they had been worked in the shape of flowers, with openings in every step.
When I reach the Realms of the Dead, she vowed grimly, I’m going to find the genius who designed this tower and I’m going to kill him a second time. Horribly.
"Hold the rails with both hands," she shouted. "We’ll do this carefully. Test the step before you put all of your weight on it. If we’re slow, if we’re steady, we’ll be fine."
I am such a liar, she thought weakly, watching over one shoulder as Lalasa turned. The older girl faced front and took hold of the railings.
Kel gripped the rails so hard that she expected to find the imprint of the iron vines on her palms for the rest of her life. At each step she waited for Lalasa to come down behind her. Of course her treacherous knees were quivering; they always did when she rose higher than three feet and looked down. Her leg muscles felt watery.
The wind was the worst. It shoved and tugged, yanking the girls’ clothes, slamming them into one rail or the other. It thrust at Kel’s shaky knees, until she was sure she would fall. Lalasa was no more than one step behind, so close that she often jostled Kel and Jump.
At first Kel ignored her fear by naming the members of her family, from Great-Aunt Bridala all the way down to her nieces and nephews. When the wind hit the stair with a blast that rattled the whole thing, Kel turned to imagining the tortures she would inflict on the architect who had built the Needle, starting with the evil fingers that had drawn the plans for it.
She was so occupied with this that she didn’t see the reddish brown stain on a step a third of the way down. As she rested her left foot on it, the foot slammed through, dropping into empty air. Broken iron gouged deep through her hose and into both sides of Kel’s left leg.
Lalasa screamed and lurched forward, bumping into Jump and Kel’s back. Kel gritted her teeth and hung on to the railings with all of her strength, supporting Lalasa’s weight as well as Jump’s and her own for a horrible moment.
"Sorry," cried Lalasa, shifting herself back until her weight rested on her own feet. "Sorry, sorry!"
Kel remained where she was, locked in place, not daring to move. Her leg throbbed; it bled heavily. She looked down just once to see her blood drip onto roof tiles sixty feet below. Closing her eyes, she ordered herself not to look down again.
"My lady, you’re bleeding!" cried Lalasa.
"I know," Kel replied. "Will you do me a favor? Just—sit, right where you are. Sit, and—and—let me think."
"Yes, yes, of course," Lalasa said. She sniffled. "Forgive me." Kel felt the stair bounce slightly as Lalasa sat. "May I take Jump?"
Kel nodded. "That would help."
She felt Lalasa fumble with the sling on her back. Jump didn’t wriggle, but let the maid ease him out of the cloth. Kel felt better without his weight putting her off-balance.
Once Lalasa had the dog, Kel made herself look at the step that had given way. Carefully she drew her leg out of the hole, trying not to catch it on jagged metal. When she was free, she sat on the step behind her, her back against Lalasa’s shins. Then she rested her face in her hands.
The trickle of blood on her skin was an annoying reminder that she couldn’t just sit and shiver. Forcing herself to look at the wound, she saw that she had gotten off easily. The cuts were ugly, but they had missed the big veins in her left leg.
A ripping sound made her look back. Lalasa was grimly tearing strips from her petticoat, working around the dog curled up in her lap. She handed a section of cloth to Kel, who used it to bind up the shallow scrapes on the lower part of her leg. "I think I’ll need your apron, too," she called.
Lalasa draped Jump over her shoulder to untie her apron. "What happened?" she asked.
"A step gave way," Kel replied.
"Gave way?" whispered Lalasa. "How?"
"Rusted."
Lalasa passed the apron to Kel with hands that shook. Kel folded it neatly into a long bandage. ’’Are more steps rusted?" Lalasa wanted to know. "Are we trapped?"
"No—no, we’re not. I just have to watch where I’m going," Kel said firmly, wiping her forehead on her sleeve. She didn’t feel firm, not in the least. Her muscles had turned to water. At any moment she expected the tower to bend, dumping them off the stair.
Focusing on her task, she settled the thickest pads of the apron over the deepest wounds. Then she wrapped the cloth as tightly as she could, and bound it in place with a hard knot. With any luck— though she felt they might be short on that—she’d put enough pressure on the gashes to stop the bleeding. She would need a healer in a hurry, though, to kill infections caused by rust and dirty iron.
"I’ll take Jump back," Kel said. "We need to go."
She held still as Lalasa settled Jump in the sling. Gripping the railings, Kel glanced at the step she’d gone through. She didn’t dare trust it, but the one beyond looked safe enough. Kel knew they had to go forward, but her nerve was gone. She ought to stand, but no matter how sternly she ordered her traitor body to get moving, it remained where it was. After a little while she realized Lalasa was talking.
"—like any other noble, not caring for anyone but yourself. Servants see the worst of people, even of other servants. We just don’t count. Sometimes folk are nice at the start, but sooner or later a noble will treat us bad. It can’t be helped. It’s natural. After a year fighting off men and being slapped by women, I thought working for a page would be no different. I knew sooner or later your nice mask would come off, only it never did. Think how frustrated I was."
Kel couldn’t help it. She had to smile. As if he felt the change in Kel’s attention, Jump began to wash the back of her neck.
"I wanted to box your ears when you were forever after me to fight and learn this grip, and that hold," Lalasa continued. "But then, in the servants’ mess, I taught them that wouldn’t hear ’no’ what it meant. And when I could hold off a squire, a strong, brawny fighter...Well. You taught me all that. You taught me to be near as brave as you are."
After that, what could Kel do? She levered herself to her feet. "Watch for rust," she cautioned. "Just step over that broken stair. And go slow and careful."
There were more rusted steps. Three in a row were the worst: it meant having to use the railings as their sole support as they swung their bodies out and away from the traitor steps. Kel’s knees buckled when she touched down, but she stiffened them for Lalasa and Jump. When she almost backed off her step as she helped the other girl to put her feet down, Kel’s head spun. She took a deep breath and steadied Lalasa.
When they reached the stone courtyard, Lalasa collapsed, huddling at the stones of the tower’s base. Sparrows swirled around her and Kel, shrieking madly.
"Get Daine," Kel ordered, lifting the sling that held Jump from her back and placing him gently on the flagstones. "Jump’s hurt."
The sparrows zipped out of the courtyard, piping their shrill alarm call.
Much to Kel’s surprise, Tian ran into the courtyard. "My lady!" she cried. "Lalasa! You’re all right!" She burst into tears and fell to her knees beside Lalasa, gathering her into her arms.
"How did you know we were here?" Kel asked, tucking the sack-sling around Jump to keep him warm.
Tian fumbled in her apron pocket and gave Kel a square of parchment. The handwriting was the same as on the first note she had received. This time it read:
Try Balor’s Needle.
"Someone stuck it to the door," Tian said. "Gower saw it when he was leaving. My lady—he went to fetch the watch."
Kel nodded absently. There was something she had to report, something very important. She turned to look up at the spidery length of iron that had led them here. "I’m going to tell the king about that," she said, wiping trembling hands on her tunic. "It’s not safe."
fifteen
CONSEQUENCES
Things happened quickly after t
hat. Daine arrived at a run, the sparrows fluttering around her. She tended Jump as Kel held him in her lap, healing the dog’s bones and bruises, telling him that he was the best dog in the palace.
After Daine left, Kel looked up. More people had come while Daine tended her dog. Gower crouched on Lalasa’s right while Tian clung to her friend on the left. A man in the uniform of the palace watch questioned Lalasa as other men in the same uniform milled around the courtyard and searched inside the Needle for clues.
Once Kel got to her feet, still holding Jump, she and Lalasa were taken to the watch’s offices. There Kel was questioned—she wasn’t too clear on what was asked. A healer came to examine her leg. Kel only noticed when the ache let up. Right about then she stretched out on a bench, waiting for them to be done with her.
Suddenly a furious Jump catapulted off her chest, jarring Kel into wakefulness. She sat up as Lalasa cried shrilly, "That’s them! That’s the ones that grabbed me!"
"Get this dog!" cried the smaller of two chained men flanked by watchmen.
A sergeant clutched Jump, who tried to fight his way to the kidnappers. One of the men showed a bite on the cheek; both had bandages on their arms.
"I should let you at them," the sergeant told Jump in a kind voice. "I think you’re right about them." He looked at the two captives. "So here’s another dog what hates you two. Whatever did you dungballs get up to, that so many dogs want to rip you to bits?"
Kel rubbed her eyes. "Why are those men here?" she asked stupidly.
"Well, milady," the sergeant explained over Jump’s snarls, "we found them a bell ago, cornered by a pack of the palace dogs. Since they couldn’t give no good reason for being here, and they were all chewed up, we thought we’d hold ’em awhile."
Kel nodded—that made sense—and lay down again.
Some time later a familiar deep, musical female voice said, "Why was it necessary to search the palace to find my youngest daughter? And why is she sleeping on a bench instead of in her room?"
Kel struggled to sit up. Someone mentioned "having questions" and "the whole story."
"And have you obtained your answers and your story?" demanded Ilane of Mindelan, hands on her hips.
Kel heard a muttered reply.
"You may ask further questions tomorrow, if you do not have real answers by then," Ilane said coldly. "You will find my daughter in the pages’ wing." She looked at Kel, worry in her eyes. "I would appreciate some assistance for her, if you please."
Someone hoisted Kel on his shoulder with a grunt. Kel remembered bobbing through hallways, then falling onto softness. Birds shrieked in her ears as she fell asleep.
A man’s voice entered her dream of flying: "Keladry. Time to wake up."
She had to obey that voice. Kel furled her wings and dropped, opening her eyes. Lord Wyldon sat on her bed, leaning over to look into her face.
"Well," he said, "there you are." He looked up. "Stop glaring, Ilane."
"I’m not at all sure that she ought to leave her bed," replied Kel’s mother. "From what her maid tells me, she’s exhausted. Did you know she rises before dawn every day? And she fits weapons practice into every spare moment she has. The idea is to train them, not to kill them, Wyldon."
"It’s the training that keeps them alive in the field," Wyldon replied calmly. "Page Keladry, you have things to do."
"Is this the Realms of the Dead?" Kel asked thickly.
"No. You’ve slept awhile, and you had a healing," Ilane said. She sat on Kel’s other side with a mug. "You know healings tire you."
Lord Wyldon helped Kel to sit up with firm, comfortable hands. Her mother held the cup to Kel’s lips: it was tea, warm but not hot. Kel gulped it down, and felt her head clear. Once all of it was gone, she sat up completely, rubbed her face, and checked her right side again. Lord Wyldon was still there.
"Jump?" she asked, before she remembered she was not allowed to have pets.
"Sleeping yet," the training master replied. "He seems particularly devoted to you."
Kel looked down, blushing.
"The watch captain asks me to assure you that whoever paid those men to kidnap Lalasa will be found." Wyldon’s tone was odd, almost gentle. "I will make sure that is so—I want to learn what manner of creature would do so infamous a thing."
Kel nodded. She would like to know that, too. She bunched her fists. If she was lucky, perhaps she would get a moment to talk to the person who had caused all this, alone. She looked at her mother. "Mama, it is you. When did you get here?"
Ilane smiled and brushed Kel’s hair back with her fingers. "You do remember your father and I came to the big examinations. When I heard you’d been found, I went to see what was going on."
"Sorry, Mama," Kel whispered, hanging her head. "I’m sorry you came for nothing."
"Wash up," said Wyldon, slapping Kel’s knee briskly. "It’s time for supper. You will feel more the thing once you have eaten."
Kel did as she was told, happy to use the basin of hot water in her dressing room to get some of the fear-sweat off her hands, arms, and face. She could hear Lord Wyldon and Lady Ilane talking quietly as she changed into fresh clothes. After she combed her hair, she went into the other room. Lord Wyldon had Jump in his lap; Lady Ilane fed sparrows from her hands.
"All set?" asked Wyldon. He put the dog on the hearth rug. Jump yawned, twisted himself into a new position, and went back to sleep. Lord Wyldon opened the door. "Come along," he ordered. Kel waved to her mother and followed him into the hall.
They walked in silence for a few moments before Wyldon asked, "Well? Aren’t you going to explain why you did not attend the big examinations today?"
Kel stopped and stared up at him. "Sir?" Why did he of all people ask her that?
Wyldon halted, too, and folded his arms over his chest. "The question is straightforward. Have you an explanation?"
"You always say explanations are excuses, my lord," she reminded him. "You don’t want to hear them."
He regarded her fixedly for a moment. Finally he asked, "What do you mean to do, then?"
"Repeat the four years, I suppose."
"Do you expect me to believe you are looking forward to that?"
Kel shook her head. "No, my lord. But I was very late. That’s the penalty." She bit the inside of her lip, thinking, I will not cry.
To her astonishment, Lord Wyldon clasped her shoulder warmly. "Gods, Mindelan," he said, "I would you had been born a boy." He let her go. "Come. You need to eat, and to reassure your friends, though I did have Ezeko brief everyone when we got the full story. No sense in allowing all kinds of wild rumors."
When he walked on, Kel followed, thinking, But I like being a girl.
Inside the mess hall, Kel gathered a tray and utensils, then went to the servers. When she passed the squires, Garvey jeered, "I bet she hired those men to get out of the exams!"
"I knew she’d crumble at the last moment," added Vinson. "Females always do."
A good Yamani would have bowed and planned revenge for a more convenient time. I suppose I’m not a good Yamani anymore, Kel thought as she faced the squires. "Who could be afraid of the big exams?" she asked Vinson and Garvey. "After all, you two passed them."
Cleon and Balduin of Disart guffawed; Yancen of Irenroha snorted.
"When do you leave?" Joren asked coolly. He sat not with Vinson and Garvey, as Kel might have expected, but with Zahir and Yancen.
"I won’t," Kel replied.
"You expect us to believe you mean to do all four years again." There was a mocking smile on Joren’s lips.
Kel shrugged. "Believe what you like." She turned her back on them and went to get her supper. As she passed the squires’ tables on her way to her friends, Cleon touched her wrist. "I’m all right," she told him, surprised by the touch.
"Of course you are," he said. "You’re the best." Prince Roald, seated across from Cleon, gave her a warm smile.
When Kel put her tray down at her usual table, she slid i
nto the space left for her by Neal and Owen. As soon as she was settled, Neal hugged her fiercely. Owen did the same; he was crying.
Kel fumbled for her handkerchief and gave it to him, saying, "At least I get to spend another year with you, anyway, whelp." That got a watery grin out of him. She turned to Neal and demanded, "So, did you pass?"
"Of course we passed, and it’s a miracle," retorted Merric from his place across from them. "You could have said you had to save Lalasa!"
"I told you, they threatened to hurt her," Neal said firmly. He pressed a cup of fruit juice into Kel’s hands. "Drink up. You look like you need the sweet. You had a healing, didn’t you?"
Kel nodded.
Lord Wyldon had come to the lectern for the evening prayer. They all scrambled to their feet.
"Mithros and Goddess, we pray you, grant your blessing," Wyldon said, his clear, cold voice cutting through the whispers. The pages and squires bowed their heads. Kel wondered if she was the only one who had noticed that for the first time since her arrival here four years ago, Lord Wyldon had included the Goddess in the nightly prayer. "Strip the veils of hate from our eyes, and the grip of bitterness from our hearts. Teach us to be pure in our souls, dedicated only to service, duty, and honor."
He lowered his hands. His audience murmured, "So mote it be."
Kel stopped the boys from asking more questions by asking them about the examinations. As she listened to them, she kept thinking that something was very wrong. Shouldn’t the fourth-years have walked to the squires’ tables by now? And while the meal before them was good, it was still a typical supper. The night the fourth-years became squires, there were always special foods and entertainment for them all.
Halfway through the meal, a servant opened the door. In walked an old man wearing a long, fur-collared, maroon wool robe and a velvet cap with ear-flaps. Over the shoulders of his robe he wore a heavy gold chain of office, its pendant marked with the crossed gavel and sword of the Royal Magistrates. Kel had seen him before, at the big examinations of years past. He was Duke Turomot of Wellam, the Lord Magistrate and chief examiner of pages.
