yes. But if he finds you lying on the floor with your blood dripping from your ears...he will assume you are another victim of the sorcerous relic."
Caina said nothing.
"Oh, I should have thought of this sooner!" said Helena, gesturing with the dagger. "You'll die, and I'll kill your father with the dagger's power, as well. Then I'll kill my husband and flee to Malarae. Reorn will be remembered as on object lesson against the dangers of meddling in ancient sorcery. I will live in comfort in the Imperial capital. And no one will remember you at all."
"That's assuming you can figure how to use the dagger," said Caina. "You haven't done very well."
Helena shrugged. "I'll have plenty of time to practice with you, my dear." Her smile was cold. "And I don't need to use the dagger well enough to control your mind. I only need to kill you."
Caina tensed, ready to strike as soon as Helena drew close enough.
But Helena was clever enough to see the danger. She put down the dagger, took a massive sack of flour from the shelves, and dropped it one Caina. It slammed into her legs, pinning them to the ground, and a shock of pain went up her hips. Helena stooped, the cloth pad in her hands, and slapped it against Caina's face.
Again that chemical smell flooded her nostrils.
"Sleep well, Ghost," said Helena, smiling. "Because when you wake up, you'll be in a lot of pain. Though not for very long."
Caina tried to stay awake, but everything went black.
Chapter 8 - Never Have Been
Caina spun over the gleaming marble floor, skirt flaring around her.
Alastair Corus's free hand caught her, and they whirled around each other, moving with speed and grace through the ballroom. Alastair danced just as well as she did, and together their performance drew scattered applause from the other nobles. Caina loved to dance, found it as relaxing as performing the unarmed forms Akragas had taught her. Yet there had not been much time for dancing, not with...with...
Memories of blood and fire flickered across her mind.
Then Alastair spun her again, and Caina laughed, her doubts disappearing into giddy delight.
"You dance well, my lord Alastair," said Caina, trying to catch her breath.
Alastair grinned. "And you as well, my lady."
The music ended, and Alastair bent over her hand and planted a kiss upon her fingers.
"Another dance?" said Alastair.
Caina laughed. "And shall I monopolize your time, my lord? There are other ladies here."
"But none," said Alastair, taking her hand in both of his and lifting it to his lips, "so lovely as you."
"You flatter me," said Caina.
"Since when," said Alastair, "is telling the truth flattery?"
He smiled at her, and Caina felt a wave of warmth flow through her skin. It had been such a long time since someone had touched her, and she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it.
How much she needed it.
"Do you have the boldness, my lord," said Caina, grinning at him, "to back up your words with deeds?"
His hands slid down her sides to rest upon her hips.
"You tell me," murmured Alastair, and he tugged her close and kissed her upon the lips, long and hard.
The warmth in her skin flushed through her entire body.
Her breathing came hard and fast when he released her.
"Another dance?" said Alastair, stroking her cheek.
"Yes," whispered Caina.
"Come with me," said Alastair, taking her hand.
He led her through the gleaming ballroom, past the crowds of nobles in their finery. High balconies ringed the ballroom, and lords and ladies chatted upon them, while servants circulated with trays of delicacies. Suddenly Caina remembered this place. It was the ballroom of Lord Haeron Icaraeus, a powerful and cruel lord who had made his fortune in slave trading.
He had also supported Maglarion's work. Caina had tried to kill Maglarion here, and Maglarion’s sorcery had leveled the ballroom in the resultant confrontation. Had Lord Haeron rebuilt it?
No. That was impossible.
Maglarion had
Caina said nothing.
"Oh, I should have thought of this sooner!" said Helena, gesturing with the dagger. "You'll die, and I'll kill your father with the dagger's power, as well. Then I'll kill my husband and flee to Malarae. Reorn will be remembered as on object lesson against the dangers of meddling in ancient sorcery. I will live in comfort in the Imperial capital. And no one will remember you at all."
"That's assuming you can figure how to use the dagger," said Caina. "You haven't done very well."
Helena shrugged. "I'll have plenty of time to practice with you, my dear." Her smile was cold. "And I don't need to use the dagger well enough to control your mind. I only need to kill you."
Caina tensed, ready to strike as soon as Helena drew close enough.
But Helena was clever enough to see the danger. She put down the dagger, took a massive sack of flour from the shelves, and dropped it one Caina. It slammed into her legs, pinning them to the ground, and a shock of pain went up her hips. Helena stooped, the cloth pad in her hands, and slapped it against Caina's face.
Again that chemical smell flooded her nostrils.
"Sleep well, Ghost," said Helena, smiling. "Because when you wake up, you'll be in a lot of pain. Though not for very long."
Caina tried to stay awake, but everything went black.
Chapter 8 - Never Have Been
Caina spun over the gleaming marble floor, skirt flaring around her.
Alastair Corus's free hand caught her, and they whirled around each other, moving with speed and grace through the ballroom. Alastair danced just as well as she did, and together their performance drew scattered applause from the other nobles. Caina loved to dance, found it as relaxing as performing the unarmed forms Akragas had taught her. Yet there had not been much time for dancing, not with...with...
Memories of blood and fire flickered across her mind.
Then Alastair spun her again, and Caina laughed, her doubts disappearing into giddy delight.
"You dance well, my lord Alastair," said Caina, trying to catch her breath.
Alastair grinned. "And you as well, my lady."
The music ended, and Alastair bent over her hand and planted a kiss upon her fingers.
"Another dance?" said Alastair.
Caina laughed. "And shall I monopolize your time, my lord? There are other ladies here."
"But none," said Alastair, taking her hand in both of his and lifting it to his lips, "so lovely as you."
"You flatter me," said Caina.
"Since when," said Alastair, "is telling the truth flattery?"
He smiled at her, and Caina felt a wave of warmth flow through her skin. It had been such a long time since someone had touched her, and she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it.
How much she needed it.
"Do you have the boldness, my lord," said Caina, grinning at him, "to back up your words with deeds?"
His hands slid down her sides to rest upon her hips.
"You tell me," murmured Alastair, and he tugged her close and kissed her upon the lips, long and hard.
The warmth in her skin flushed through her entire body.
Her breathing came hard and fast when he released her.
"Another dance?" said Alastair, stroking her cheek.
"Yes," whispered Caina.
"Come with me," said Alastair, taking her hand.
He led her through the gleaming ballroom, past the crowds of nobles in their finery. High balconies ringed the ballroom, and lords and ladies chatted upon them, while servants circulated with trays of delicacies. Suddenly Caina remembered this place. It was the ballroom of Lord Haeron Icaraeus, a powerful and cruel lord who had made his fortune in slave trading.
He had also supported Maglarion's work. Caina had tried to kill Maglarion here, and Maglarion’s sorcery had leveled the ballroom in the resultant confrontation. Had Lord Haeron rebuilt it?
No. That was impossible.
Maglarion had
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