Chapter 49: [17.3] Names and Faces

Tran fogged up the glass with her gasp. But Isla had already known Mabel's answer, and her mind was elsewhere, racing along with her heart. 'She's beautiful. What was her name?'

'Haana.'

Hearing it spoken out loud stirred something in Isla. It had been so long, she had started to wonder if Haana existed at all. But she did, and I was right. She had been a dhayang here.

Isla skirted Mabel's walls, lightly brushing against its solid form. The woman's mind brimmed underneath a firm shield; heat seeping out of a lantern and burning its glass. There was a weakness in Mabel's walls, but it would take time for Isla to exploit. Time I do not have.

She slipped instead into the next best thing.

'How do you even become a silver-servant?' It did not take long for her effect to take hold. Tran was by nature a curious girl, and Isla's compulsion only brought out more of herself.

'There is no single path to silverhood. Some find it easier than others. But we train our girls well here, and it's not uncommon for silver-servants to be recruited from our midst. One thing's for certain. One would only be appointed silver-servant if deemed skilled and loyal enough.' If Mabel's nose was any higher, she would need eyes on her chin. She waved her arms about the room. 'Every one of these girls would easily measure up.'

She took one last look around the trophy chamber before leading her guests back towards the entrance. Their time was up.

'And only the royal family can appoint silver-servants?'

'Correct.'

Isla whispered her questions into Tran's mind as gently as she could. Using her friend in such a way ... Isla quenched her guilt and coaxed Tran to ask, 'What about that girl – Haana? Who appointed her?—what?' She added off the icy glare Phrae threw at her.

'You can't ask who a silver-servant works for!' said Phrae, bristling.

'Some silver-servants are known,' said Isla.

'Correct,' said Mabel. 'It's rare for one to keep an unknown silver-servant. Those are mostly reserved for clandestine tasks. Haana was one of them, so we never knew who took her in.'

'She must have been good,' said Tran with reverence.

'I remember her, though many would not.' Mabel nodded. 'A powerful memory-weaver. She liked to keep to herself. But what she lacked in gregariousness she compensated for with her abilities in the field. So you see, we have many opportunities here for girls of all spirits and skills. No matter what they say of us in Kathedra, you need not fear living an old maid's life here.'

A mnemonist, then. That explains my lapses in memory. Isla pushed again at Tran's consciousness, stoking her interest in the silver-servant. 'She was a fighter, then? Not many girls are fighters.'

'Who would want a girl to fight for them?' Phrae scoffed.

'I asked myself the same question.' Mabel paused dramatically. They were back in the courtyard, surrounded by squat, round trees and guards on all four corners. 'It's a waste, if you ask me. Such a pretty face, too. But she caught someone's eye – and a rajini, at that.'

'A rajini?' Isla could not help herself. 'You said you didn't know who appointed her.'

'We don't. But the servant who came for her let it slip that the rajini asked specifically for Haana. Which rajini – well, have three guesses. Speaking of which –' A bell interrupted her then, but this one came from much further away on the other side of the palace. Mabel straightened, her face lifting towards a tower that loomed over the rooftops around them. 'That is the call for midday meal. I must prepare for our royal guests. You girls better return to the main antechamber and await your master's return.'

She turned on her heels and left them without another word. The three girls made their way back to the antechamber, speaking of silver-servants and royal translators.

It had been a quick visit, Isla thought, but not for naught. Far from it. Haana worked for one of the three queens consort. That narrows my suspects considerably.

That also meant one of them had her sister.

She had not forgotten what – or whom – she came to Surikhand for. If the rajini keps a prisoner, it would most likely be in the dungeons. How am I to break in there?

'... don't you think, Lilja?'

Isla looked up at Tran's question, but was saved from answering when Phrae interrupted, 'This place is only beautiful to look at, but it doesn't feel right. Haven't you noticed? We haven't seen a single dhayang here.'

'They're at morning duties.' Isla was not about to let Phrae spoil Tran's mood. 'You're letting your fears get in the way of your brain.'

'Where are their morning duties? In the cellars?'

'They'll be preparing for midday meals, now. You heard the bells.'

'Not one of them crossed our path.'

'This is a large palace, Phrae –'

'And there are hundreds of girls!'

'What of those girls in the portraits? You think they're all made up?' At least one of them was no fiction.

Tran shot to her feet before Phrae could respond. 'All right. I'm fetching Master Chendra.'

'We're not supposed to wander,' hissed Phrae.

But Tran was already stalking towards the arch through which Master Chendra had been led. Isla rounded on Phrae. 'Well done. Do you understand how worried she's been about being sent here?'

'As she should be! Did you even see that sleaze of a man?'

'You don't need to dampen her spirits even more than they already are! There's still hope for her here.'

'Oh, why don't you just worm into her head and reassure her.'

'For the last time.' Isla jabbed the girl's forehead. 'That's not – how – it – works.'

'Where are you going?' Phrae called at Isla's back. She did not deign a reply.

Tran was speaking to a guard at the end of hall by the time Isla caught up. The guard was young, and did not have that hungry look many of the others did. A black chasm stood in the wall behind him. The only thing Isla could see of it was that it opened to a low tunnel, lit by soft yellow orbs fixed to its walls.

She gestured towards the tunnel. 'Master Khan's study?'

The guard answered in the negative. 'Dungeons.'

Tran took Isla's hand and pulled her along where the hall took a sharp turn. 'He says the study is down this way.'

Isla held fast. 'So it's true? You have a dungeon. Here, of all places.'

'It's empty.' The guard shifted his feet uncomfortably.

A new recruit? The prospect gave Isla confidence. 'I should hope so. To keep dangerous criminals in a palace filled with innocent, young girls? That would be madness.'

'They never keep the real dangerous ones down here. Only female prisoners, besides. The study's down that way, dhayang. Like she said.' He nodded them away, but Isla was already seeking an entrance into his wary mind.

'Her name is Tran. She might be sent here with the next allotment. What's your name?' Isla waited, but the guard only looked at Tran with silent entreaty. Has he never spoken to a girl before? In a prison crawling with us? 'Look, we're not dhayang in this place. Yet. You can speak to us.'

'Benja,' he said with a stutter. 'My name's Benja.'

An opening presented itself at his hesitation, and Isla slipped through. 'Well, Benja. My friend here is very worried about her relocation. She thinks she'd never leave the Water Palace. Have you seen your share of dhayang?'

'I ... I've seen some being taken here.' He looked from Isla to Tran before finally fixing his gaze on the latter. 'But I've also seen plenty leave.'

'You'll look out for Tran, won't you? If she's sent here, I mean.' Her question dripped with compulsion. Isla let it sink into his centre; let his mind soak with the very idea.

'Lilja!' Tran nudged her with an elbow, her face turning a deep red.

'I ... that's my job ... is to look out for the girls,' Benja stuttered some more. His subconscious did not reject her compulsion, though. Isla felt it fuse into him; another candle left burning in the chambers of his mind.

'Good. Perhaps you can take her to our other friend. She's waiting in the antechamber.'

Tran protested, 'We're supposed to fetch Master Chendra.'

'I'll go myself.' This time, she directed her theurgy towards Tran. At first it was difficult, holding two minds at once; but Tran was untrained, unprotected, while Benja's walls were not even a fraction as tough as Eshe's had been.

Isla had to push on her compulsion before Benja finally took Tran back up the hall. It was not a far walk, and he would return to his post soon. Isla made sure they did not look back before stealing into the now unguarded tunnel. Keys were left dangling by the wall, but the door she found at the end of the passageway was already partially open.

Another one of your fantastic ideas, Isla.

She followed the wide steps, lower and lower until the ceiling disappeared into darkness. But she could never forgive herself if Tam Mai was being held there, and she did not even attempt to find her.

The stairs took her to a chamber that stretched farther than she could see. Torches lined the damp wall behind her, but their light did not reach the cells across. All she made of them was a glimmer of metal as the bars caught a wave of firelight.

'Pep,' she whispered. The creature came out of its slumber from her pocket and onto her shoulder. It lit up, brighter than she had ever seen it glow before. Odd, for an old little thing. Must be the contrast of darkness.

She stalked down the floor, closer to the cages, but nothing came. No hanging corpse or rotting bone. The only decay that lingered was the smell in the air; the only thing to jump was a pair of rats scampering out one cell into another.

Benja had been truthful. Isla passed each holding cell slowly, muffling her footsteps as best as she could. Pepper flared its light into each cage they passed, revealing nothing but empty chains and torn cloth. Twenty cells in all, none occupied.

She was approaching the last cell. Enough time had gone by that soon the guard would return to his post. She would have to think of a way to send him off again.

Something flickered from the cage at the end of the dungeon. Fire, floating in mid-air. Pepper quickly snuffed its own light, and under the cover of darkness, Isla crept against the adjoining cell. A torch had been lit in the very last prison; fixed high into its back wall, casting light over a figure hunched on the stone floor.

A prisoner. Her breath caught. Isla sent a wave of theurgy over the prisoner's mind. Cautiously. Soft enough just to sense something deep and sweeping like a sea tide. She gasped and pulled back before the void could suck her in.

The prisoner turned at the sound and stood into better light.

Either the shadows were playing tricks on her, or Isla had seen that face before. It took a moment, but she remembered at last.

'Kithrel?'

He watched wordlessly as she stepped out of hiding. He did not even blink, even until she stood before him, the cold bars between them.

'How long have they kept you down here?' This is my fault.

'You!' His eyes widened with recognition. 'What are you ... how ... I thought ...'

Isla could not tell whether he was angry or surprised. Likely both. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. How are the rest of the crew?'

'The crew?'

'Tempestorm?'

'Them? You need not worry of them.'

A small relief. 'I wish I had not involved any of you. I wish –' She stopped herself. Regrets mean nothing now. 'I'll get you out of here.'

Kithrel's brows creased with amusement. 'You're ... going to get me out of here?'

They did not have much time. Isla raced through her options. Perhaps Pepper could melt the iron through ...

The salamander chirped frantically as though sensing her thoughts. Unlikely, it seemed to say. Pepper was no ifrit. It would take time for it to do any significant damage on the metal.

And certainly these bars are protected by runes. 'I'll have to get the keys from the guard.'

Kithrel laughed. Not a chuckle, but a full, hearty laugh that echoed high into the gloom.

'Hush!' Isla hissed. 'Have you gone mad?' But he probably has. How long has he been kept down here? Several turns, she guessed. Enough time for a man to lose his senses.

'No,' said Kithrel. 'But I fear you have. Rob a guard off his keys? How would you go about such a feat? You are wasting your time. You should leave before he finds you.'

'I'm not letting you rot in here!'

'Still as stubborn as before, I see. You disappeared once, why not do it again?' There was no bite in his tone, but Isla felt it in his words.

So he is angry – as he has every right to be.

Kithrel approached the bars and gripped them in his hands. 'What are you waiting for? Do you want them to find you – whatever it is you're running from? Or shall I call the guards down myself?'

Isla studied his face but could not tell whether he meant what he said. Either way, she was pitched between a wall and a hard place. Who knew what he would tell the guards later, once she was gone? Leaving him was not an option. 'I just want to help you. So stay quiet while I –'

She was interrupted by the sound of boots on stone, reverberating from somewhere above.

'The guard!' Isla cursed. She had to find somewhere to hide. One of the empty cells? But would Kithrel keep his silence? His face was unreadable.

'Don't do anything foolish,' he said cautiously.

Too late for that. She turned to flee into the closest cell, but Kithrel grabbed her arm through the bars and held her still. 'Let go of me!'

'Just trust me.' His grip on her tightened.

The voices were closer, now. Three men; one of them a prince, Isla assumed with much dread, for she heard one of them call for His Highness.

Isla tried to pull away. She clawed at Kithrel's leather arm guard, twisted against his grasp, but still he held her fast. She could see torchlight now, then silhouettes fast approaching – and then it was too late.

Kithrel dropped her arm, and Isla stumbled from the sudden release. This is it. This is the end. She shot her theurgy towards all three at once. Her head rang with the exertion; stretched thin in different directions. Two of them held firm walls. The other she recognised as Benja's.

She was about to break into them when their faces stopped her. Master Chendra, eyes dark with a fury she had never before seen, and a third man, tall and reedy, draped in full leather armour and a dark grey mantle.

'Lilja! What do you thi—' Her tutor started to make a grab for her arm but stopped short when he saw Kithrel. The anger melted off his face and, to Isla's confusion, both he and Benja quickly sketched a bow.

The armoured man reached for his belt and drew an inch of his sword. 'My prince. Shall I cut down this impudent baseborn who dares approach Your Royal Highness?'

What is he talking about? She had thought this stranger was the prince. His chest was finely decorated with brooches, his cloak fastened by a golden capradon. But if he is not the prince, then –

There was a screech as Kithrel pushed his cell doors open. 'Easy, Samrin. She is with me.'

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