Garden of Madness (32 page)

He feared his father. Feared disappointing, failing him, as she did her mother. In this, they were kindred. For all his monstrous behavior, humanity lurked beneath the surface.

She held out a palm. “You will bring back treasures of Babylon. Pieces taken from the grandest temples of our enemies.”

In truth, this part of her plan Tia had not yet perfected, but there would be time.

Zagros turned on her and she took a step backward. Would he attack her? Threaten violence if she did not go through with the marriage?

He seized her arms and she tensed, ready to fight.

But his voice was pleading, a syrupy sweetness. “Beautiful Tiamat, do not do this. We can continue this lie. No one must know. I will give you everything you desire in Media.”

“Everything I desire, Zagros, is in Babylon.”

Perhaps it was the finality of her tone, perhaps the set of her jaw, but he seemed to sense his defeat. He thrust her from him, growling curses, and stomped to the window.

Tia lingered. Was there something she could say to ensure his cooperation, his silence?

He shot a murderous look over his shoulder. “Go.”

She opened her mouth, held out a hand.

“Go!” Zagros grabbed a nearby vase and heaved it at her head.

She ducked, and the vase smashed against the floor.

With a last worried huff of breath toward Zagros, she left him to his anger.

One task accomplished
.

But the preparations would not be complete until she had assured herself of Amel’s cooperation as well.

And her objective would be trickier with Amel, for he could not simply be threatened or bribed to play his part.

It took until evening to locate him. The palace staff seemed to have multiplied in anticipation of tomorrow’s double celebration. Her questions were treated with impatience, and her searching yielded only bustling slaves and overflowing wagons delivering colorful vegetables, freshly slaughtered meat, even bolts of exotic fabrics. She skirted merchants and servants, threading through courtyards and public chambers. She peeked into the Hall of Magi, but it was empty.

Finally, word came to her that Amel was performing duties in the Temple of Ishtar.

At last
.

Without thought of escort, or her mother’s disapproval, Tia took to the city streets and pushed through crowds along the Processional Way, reaching the main temple on the Street of Ishtar by the time darkness draped the city.

Temple prostitutes and male worshippers clogged the temple’s grassy outer courtyard. She ignored the activity, her eyes set on the soft glow of the temple antechamber and the larger hall beyond where Ishtar’s representative figure awaited.

Tia’s steps slowed, arrested by new thoughts.

My first time in a temple since knowing the truth
. That if Ishtar existed, she was a demon, not a goddess, and she sought to enslave.

Tia whispered an incoherent prayer to the One God.
Protection. Wisdom
. Did He hear the prayers of a Babylonian woman when she had done nothing yet for Him?

The singsong of the priestesses drew her into the temple’s depths, where the overwhelming scent of incense immediately watered her eyes, thickened her throat, and shallowed her breath.

Amel, where are you?

It was more than incense that oppressed her. The familiar heaviness reminded her she had been freed.

She found him attending the goddess and her nightly ritual meal. Tia watched his narrow frame, his back to her, as he prayed over the lavish feast spread before the golden statue, then backed away and drew the curtains for her privacy. These were priests’ functions, yet as a novice mage, he must learn various religious duties.

“Amel.” Tia spoke quietly, but still he startled. But then his smile seemed genuine and strengthened her confidence.

“Tia.” His hands were outstretched.

She went to him, her stomach warring with her heart. How many conflicting emotions had she felt for this man over these few weeks? Attraction, then revulsion at learning he was her brother. And today, now that they were no longer siblings?

Pedaiah would not be pleased to see my heart
.

It shamed her, her fascination with the future king. She wished to be rid of it and voiced another broken prayer in her mind, for clarity, focus.

“Can we speak alone, Amel?”

He blinked twice, a tiny flicker of concern creasing his brow. “Of course.” He glanced at the side walls of the temple. “Here.” He gestured toward a chamber door.

Inside the smallish room no torch had been lit, and only the light from the main chamber illuminated his features. It was enough to trace his beauty, so she turned away to speak.

“What is it, Tia? What is wrong?”

“Are you aware of Shadir’s plan for you, Amel? For us?”

A long silence met her question. Then, “We are to be married.”

It was time for plain speaking. “Tomorrow. He will announce the truth of both our fathers to the kingdom, the Median prince will leave in humiliation, and Shadir will reveal the king’s . . .
condition
. Then he will put the crown on your head and marry us to appease the people.”

Amel brushed her arm with his fingertips. “I have waited eagerly for the day.”

“For the day of my family’s annihilation.”

“Why would your family—?”

She faced him, skin flushing. “Do not be foolish, Amel. Shadir cannot afford any other claims to the throne once the people know the truth about the king. My brothers-in-law, my nephews. Even my sisters, who could yet bear more grandchildren for the king. Every one of them will be dead by the end of the festival.”

Tia watched his eyes. So much depended on her accurate assessment of this man. Was he merely Shadir’s unwitting tool? Or was he also greedy for the blood of royals? Could she convince him of her plan, then trust him to keep his word?

Those dark eyes with their thick lashes that beguiled her when they first met deepened with sympathy and some small outrage.

“I will not allow it!”

She searched his face for a telltale shift—too much blinking, perhaps a slant of the eyes or a nervous tic—but saw sincerity.

“You must promise me, Amel.” Tia gripped his hands and spoke with all the force she could bring to bear. “I swear to you, if my family is not kept safe, I will join them in the underworld before we reach our marriage bed.”

Surprise leapt across his features.

This threat was her only bargaining piece. She counted on Amel’s affection, or at least his infatuation. Would he protect her family’s lives to gain her as his wife?

“You must be your own king. Not Shadir’s mouthpiece. You must rule Babylon from your own wisdom and courage, and not be swayed by the evil that Shadir would have you commit.”

He straightened, as though the crown were being placed on his brow this very moment, then returned her hand clasp. His mouth tightened with unusual gravity and he nodded slowly. Regally.

“You have my word. From baby to gray-haired, not one of your family will be harmed.”

This declaration was the best she could extract. There were no guarantees.

He released her hands, but only to place his own on each side of her head. His thumbs caressed her cheeks. “I will make you happy, Tia. You shall see.” He brushed his lips against hers, the whisper of a promise.

Tia remembered her thoughts when they met. She was an unattainable princess and he a forbidden mage. Would she have smiled that first night to know that one day they would marry?

Perhaps. But as she escaped the Temple of Ishtar, through the courtyard of prostitutes, her heart thudded with a suggestion she refused to entertain.

Have I sold myself to purchase an empty promise?

CHAPTER 37

There you are at last!”

Her mother’s fury met Tia at the top of the palace steps under the entry arch.

Tia sighed and walked past her stormy expression. Would she forever be placating her mother’s disapproval of her excursions?

“Do not turn your back on me, girl!”

Tia slowed. This was more than her usual censure.

Amytis caught up with her, pinched her above the elbow, and pulled her along in the current of her anger. “Come with me.”

She marched Tia through the flowered courtyard, past its warbling fountain, to the same small, unused chamber where Pedaiah had prayed over her, so long ago. The memory of that prayer warmed her, and a peace like the courtyard fountain welled up inside her heart.

Her mother, however, was clearly not at peace. She pushed Tia into the dim chamber until Tia’s back was against the wall, Amytis’s black hair gleaming with near-blue highlights around her pale face. She wagged a finger before Tia’s eyes.

“You will be the destruction of this family yet, Tiamat.”

Tia licked her lips and waited for more.

“How
could
you? Do you know how hard I worked to create this alliance with my family in Media?”

A tiny wisp of apprehension fluttered in Tia’s stomach. She studied the creases at the corners of her mother’s eyes, the deepening lines around her mouth.

“But you could not be satisfied until you had your way. Zagros says he will not marry you, now that he has learned you are not the king’s daughter.” Her lips tightened—a narrow, pinkish slash that dared Tia to change her opinion of her rebellious daughter.

Tia had misjudged Zagros.

“Yes, he told me of your announcement. Did you think he would slink away in the night with nothing to show for his effort?”

“I promised he would be well paid—”

“He came for a bride! And there would have been no difficulty in your marrying him, regardless of your parentage. The world believes you a princess, and the treaty would rest on that belief. But now, now he will declare to the kingdom that he has discovered our betrayal. There may even be war!”

Amytis’s words sputtered against Tia’s face, and something more than anger was there. It was the same unexpected emotion she had seen in Zagros’s expression.

Her mother was afraid.

Tia clasped her mother’s hands. “All will be well, Mother, I promise. I have spoken to Amel—”

She recoiled as if Tia had struck her with this news. “Amel!”

“He cares for me, Mother. He will keep us safe.”

Amytis’s rage settled into something colder, more fearful. A chilling stillness that poured disdain over Tia.

“I have told him that if our family is not safe, I will take my own life.”

Tia expected this bold declaration to cause some flicker of appreciation for her plan, but nothing disturbed her mother’s frozen expression.

“And you believe in this you have saved us?”

“Saved both the family and the kingdom, Mother. Do you not see? You will not have to give Babylon to the Medes. The king’s dynasty will continue, Babylon will be undisturbed, and our family will retain our noble position.”

“All of this, on the word of the young Amel.”

It was a statement, not a question, but one with complete lack of conviction, with hopelessness.

“He desires to be a good king, I know he does. He wishes to be free of the influence of Shadir, to rule from—”

But Amytis had turned away. Turned and drifted to the doorway, leaned her forehead against its frame.

Tia followed her, desperate now for Amytis to see her plan, to understand. Tia’s hand trembled on her mother’s arm. “It is better this way.”

Amytis was speaking softly. Not to Tia, to herself. A low, chastising sort of muttering that left Tia cold.

“She was too young. Too young to see. I should have told her everything. Perhaps then . . .”

“What is it, Mother? I do not understand.”

But Amytis had retreated, somewhere far from Tia. The distance in her eyes was frightening.

“Mother, speak to me. What is it you fear?”

Amytis spoke with lips nearly touching the door’s edge. “I fear many things, Daughter. Many things. Most of all Shadir.”

“Is he so powerful?”

“You have no idea. No idea what he is capable of, nor what he has already done. But know this, Tiamat. Amel will never break Shadir’s hold on him. Whether or not he desires this, it is of no consequence. Shadir will have his way.”

“Amel is ready—”

“No man is ever ready to be a king. It is a mantle too heavy for a mortal to wear, a position too close to the gods. If he is honest, he must seek a power beyond himself. Amel has found that power in Shadir. He will not let it go. Nor will Shadir release his hold on the future king.”

What had she done? Tia had thought to play the hero, to sacrifice herself to save all those she loved, including her beloved Babylon. She had left them worse than they had begun. Her skin felt taut, as though apprehension and the unknown had stretched it thin.

But no, Tia could not believe Amytis knew Amel’s heart. Not like she did. She must know for herself.

Before her mother could heap her with any more blame, Tia escaped the chamber.

Amytis did not follow, did not even call out.

Tia hesitated outside the chamber, on the perimeter of the courtyard. How was she to learn this truth? Simply questioning Amel would be ineffective. She could not be certain he even knew the truth himself.

In that moment of hesitation, Amel-Marduk entered through the palace arch.

Tia pulled back instinctively, into the shadowed doorway. Watched him cross the courtyard, his steps confident.

And then she followed him.

She had followed Shadir thus once, through palace corridor and down the stairs to that frightful chamber under the palace where he had performed strange incantations. Would Amel lead her into such danger?

But it would seem the Hall of Magi was his destination. Without a backward look, he slipped under its columned entrance. Tia slowed in the corridor and considered her options.

Confrontation was pointless. Neither Shadir nor Amel could be trusted. She saw that now.

Voices drifted to her from within the Hall, and she slid closer. A stone column stood close to the wall and she wedged herself into the gap. She could remain unseen here but perhaps hear conversation. She held her breath, centered on the single sense of hearing.