She knocked lightly at the door. "Hello?"
The singing stopped, and an instant later the door opened. A small face looked up at Hedi.
The girl was no more than ten, and was small-boned and slender. She wore a simple cream-colored dress, and her thick, chocolate-black hair was tied in a white ribbon that made her dusky complexion look even darker. Deep brown eyes looked up at Hedi. There was something vaguely familiar about the girl's appearance.
Hedi smiled. "Hello, I'm a guest here, but there is not much to do. Would you care for some company?"
The girl looked quite surprised and smiled. "In my room? You want to come in?"
"Of course… unless you would prefer a walk instead?"
The girl shook her head, little face scrunched in a stubborn frown. "I'm not supposed to go out without Julia and Devid."
"Who is Devid?"
She rolled her eyes with a sharp sigh. "He has a sword. He protects me from bad things."
Hedi wondered why the little girl needed a bodyguard inside the keep. This was the first child she had ever seen here. The girl shoved the door wide with her small hands.
"Do you want to see my dolls?"
"Yes, I would like that very much."
Hedi stepped into a pleasant little room quite out of place in the stronghold of a tyrant.
Austere stone walls were softened by small tapestries of fantastical creatures, from a serpentine dragon to strange, thin-lipped people covered in downy feathers with wings to hide their bodies. There was one of a small, dark-brown cat perched on the back of a stag of silver-gray hue, though its coat was longer than that of any deer Hedi had seen. Its horns were single long curves without prongs. A four-poster bed filled most of the room, but there was space enough for a bookshelf filled with dolls and toy animals. A large trunk with stuffed pillows atop it rested at the foot of the bed.
"My name is Hedi. I am a guest of Lord Darmouth. Are you a guest here, too?"
"I'm no guest. I'm Korey," she answered, as if this should be obvious. "I live here with Papa and Mama."
Hedi looked into Korey's impish eyes and suddenly knew to whom the child belonged-Faris and Ventina, Darmouth's skulking attendants. Not only did Korey have the traits of a Mondyalitko, but hints of her parents' lean features were obvious in the girl.
"Come see Selina!" Korey said and grabbed Hedi's hand. "She's my favorite. She has yellow hair, and I always wanted yellow hair."
Hedi followed Korey to the bed. A beautiful doll with a porcelain head sat against the pillow. Korey reminded Hedi of her little sisters, always eager to show new guests their toys and dolls, like exotic treasures acquired by their father from faraway places. Hedi never told them otherwise, not spoiling their childhood fantasy that the world was a wide and inviting place awaiting them.
A fresh wave of grief passed through Hedi before she could stop it. She took a short breath, forcing back her soft smile.
"How often do you see your mother and father?" she asked.
"Often?" Korey frowned slightly. Perhaps time was still a difficult concept for her. "Devid and Julia take me to see them. Sometimes Papa takes me out to the courtyard, but Julia has to come with us."
So Darmouth never allowed the child out of sight, always under a watchful eye… even with her own parents? It sounded as if they were not even allowed in Korey's room, alone with her.
Korey was a hostage. This was no surprise to Hedi. Everyone in this land was a slave in some way, shackled by fear and the threat of death. Though it did make her wonder about Paris and Ventina. What services did they provide that Darmouth found so essential, that the bastard would lock up their daughter to ensure fealty?
Little Korey was eager for company, even that of a stranger.
"Do you have any games?" Hedi asked. "We could play."
"Games?" Korey's face brightened. "You can stay for a game? I have cards. Papa said he would teach me, but he hasn't. Do you know how to play with cards?"
"I do," Hedi assured her.
Korey's blossoming excitement made Hedi's sadness grow, but she kept it hidden from the girl. She sat on the bed's edge, smoothing the comforter, and began laying out cards facedown in a square pattern.
"The first game is called Catch the King," she whispered with a smile.
Korey giggled back. They spent the day there, Hedi careful never to let Korey realize they were both prisoners.
Magiere stood anxiously waiting with Wynn and Chap before the gatehouse archway and the long bridge to the keep. She needed to prepare herself for what came next, but that damn keep filled up her sight.
It was daunting up close, though she'd seen larger strongholds. Four square towers shot up at its corners, adding to the impression that the whole thing had risen from the water one forgotten night to loom over the city shoreline. Suddenly her plan to play Darmouth so she could get inside seemed weak. She shouldn't be taking Chap or Wynn anywhere near this place. She braced herself for an audience with the despot, but the memory of Leesil's lost eyes and sweaty face, as he crouched with stiletto in hand, still filled Magiere's head. Especially when she looked at the keep.
She'd awoken in the night to find herself alone in bed and Leesil gone from the room. Before she could grab her shirt to go looking for him, he'd nearly fallen through the door. He tripped over his own boots on the floor, and she caught him and guided him to the bed. The stench of wine was thick on his breath. She pulled him onto the bed and covered him, holding him in silence. What could she say?
Magiere looked up at the keep towers. This land of Leesil's "first life," as he called it, haunted him with so many things she didn't know.
"Do you think someone will come soon?" Wynn asked, shivering. Frosty white breath puffed from her little lips with each word.
"Crouch down with Chap by the wall," Magiere said. "Put your coat around him and share some body heat."
Wynn did as suggested, and Chap snuggled in close to the sage. Wynn's hair was neatly braided for this meeting, but the sheepskin coat pulled on over her torn short robe still looked shabby. Her pack was worse, weather-faded and mud-stained.
Magiere didn't bother checking herself. She wore her hauberk over a wool pullover on top of her linen shirt. The worn tip of her falchion sheath poked out beneath the hem of her hooded cloak. Unlike the snobbish elites of Bela, Darmouth wouldn't care what she looked like. He was seeking a hunter and would expect results by any means. The rougher her appearance, perhaps the better.
A loud creak called Magiere's attention, and she saw the keep's heavy gates begin to open.
"Is someone coming?" Wynn asked, and stood up to look.
A trio of men strode down the center of the long stone bridge. The lead man was obviously an officer. He was armed with a shortsword sheathed at his waist and wore a hardened leather breastplate. His face was covered with a blond beard a shade darker than his hair. The two flanking men carried spears taller than themselves.
"You're the hunter?" he asked with no introduction. "The one named Magiere?"
"Yes," she replied, but the officer now stared at Wynn and Chap. "My companions… my assistants," she added.
"I was told to fetch only you," he said.
"She does not hunt without us," Wynn said before Magiere could speak. "Each creature is different. Each hunt must be planned. So we must be privy to all details."
The tall officer seemed taken back by Wynn's manner. Magiere crossed her arms and waited, confirming Wynn's words. It was odd to have the sage playing the unbendable one, let alone playing this game at all.
The officer still looked undecided.
"I need them both for a successful hunt," Magiere added. "Perhaps Lord Darmouth wasn't fully informed before he sought me out."