Sworn To Transfer (17 page)

Anything to break up the monotony of repeatedly looping those squiggles day in and day out.

One night she’d been nearly dozing off after hours of being cooped up in the steam of the baths. An invisible barrier dividing the air of this room from the humid, heavy steam of the outer baths let in less than five percent of the steam that drifted around in the regular baths. As far as she could tell, that was because of a protective spell, a layer, really, that existed all around the recessed room. A layer that was slowly failing. The steam had built up enough that she’d been succumbing to slumber where she sat. As she had drifted off with the Aether bracelet on her ankle, she’d heard a curious thing. It had been Sebastian’s voice calling to her...from the Aether Realm.

Her memory of that night came back to her with all of the clarity of an event that happened just minutes ago. Ciardis remembered that she’d answered him, half-asleep, and he’d asked her where she was.

Where in the palace she was. At that point she had woken up from her slumber with a start. In disbelief, she had called out mentally, “
This can’t be real?
”

“
I assure you it is
,” Sebastian had replied.

“
Are we in the Aether realm?
” she’d questioned while pinching herself.

“
No...I thought you were close by in the palace,
” he’d said. She’d hastily told him that she was nowhere near the Imperial grounds.

Ciardis had felt some confusion. “
Even if I was. We could only talk like this in our physical bodies if touching.”

She had felt his bemusement and knew he had felt her confusion.

“
It feels like you’re standing right next to me
,” she had said.

“
Where are you, then?”

At that point in the conversation she’d stood up and spoke aloud. Testing the range of their conversation. “The steam baths,” she’d said while looking around. She was speaking out loud, but he was speaking inside her head. How was this possible?

“Where are you?” she had queried.

“The Imperial nursery.”

She had raised an eyebrow in surprise. “What are you doing there?”

“
Preparing for my unborn child
,” he’d said dryly.

“What?”

She had felt impatience flow through the bond.
“It’s the only place I can find some peace now. Everyone wants something from me. And, well...they never think to look in the children’s nursery.”

“Right, so...”

“
Hold on a second
,” he’d commanded. “
I think I found something. Your magic—I can see it in the wall.”

“You can see my magic in the wall?” she had said slowly. Her disbelief was palpable.

*****

M
iles away in the Imperial Palace Sebastian had ignored the slight censure in her tone and looked closer at the decorative wallpaper-draped panels that made up the Imperial nursery. He’d put his hand on the one wall panel in the beautifully decorated nursery which was glowing with Ciardis’s innate magic. Tracing the flow of magic, he’d pushed firmly on the panel wondering what in the world was going on. He didn’t have long to wonder, because as soon as he’d pushed the panel, his hand had gone straight through the wall. Off balance, he’d followed immediately after.

When a young man had come tumbling through the wall of the steamy room Ciardis had shrieked. Fortunately the barrier keeping out the mist from the baths also kept away sound.

The fact that he’d landed directly on top of her towel-clad body was just the sweet finish to an already tiring day. Kicking out, she’d kneed him in the groin and got to her feet, hastily rearranging her gaping towel.

“Ciardis,” said Sebastian in a pain-filled voice, “did you really have to knee me there?”

“Sorry,” she said, “It was reflex?” Another groan was her only answer.

He’d stood up and she could finally see his brilliant green eyes and black hair in the gloom of the steam. She had given him a brilliant smile and backed up a tad. He didn’t look happy. In fact, he’d looked different altogether. Biting her lip, she had taken in his taller form and the fact that he was actually wearing something that didn’t make him look like a toddler among grown-ups today.

Must be a growth spurt
, she’d thought.

He had sighed and the rubbed the back of his neck. “Where are we?”

“The baths,” she’d said, gesturing at the steam and her towel as if to say, “
Where else could we be
?”

Ignoring her towel-clad form after a cursory glance, taking in her curly hair pulled up into a thick ponytail and the gleaming bronze skin of her shoulders, arms, and legs, he’d turned back to the wall he came through and poked it tentatively. His finger hadn’t gone through, and neither had his hand.

“Well?”

“It’s a portal...a gateway between the nursery,” he’d said, glancing specutatively around the room, “and the baths of your home.”

“Why? Wait—don’t tell me,” she’d said. “The Royal Consort, right? The one who owned this castle—she had children.”

He had nodded quickly and grinned over his shoulder. “You’re catching on.”

“I kind of have to,” she’d said with dry wit, “constantly being dragged on one magical adventure after another with you.”

He had turned around and smiled. “Well, yeah.” And then there was an awkward pause. Awkward for a number of reasons that Ciardis Weathervane didn’t even want to contemplate.

“So how do we get you out of here?” Ciardis had said.

“The same way I came in,” he’d said. “I’d hate to see what the rest of your guild would say if I came out of your baths.”

She had nodded and they’d set to work. It had taken them a couple of hours, but they finally found the trick to opening the gate back into the royal nursery.

Flashing back from the memory, Ciardis picked up the round pendant and the chisel. Sighing before the wall panel, she activated the gate. She anticipated the weird, itchy feeling that always came across her skin when she crossed through the gate. She didn’t flinch, and came walking out into the royal nursery clad in nothing but a towel, carrying a necklace and what looked like a weapon. Hurrying, she raced over to the huge armoire painted with the same intricate details of the whole room—a sky blue color with golden filigree—while cradles and comfy cushions and small toys were scattered throughout the area.

Reaching for the smooth panel of the armoire, she realized there were no handles or doorknobs. Only a perfectly oval inset in the wood. She put the pendant in the oval inset and it fit snugly. Pressing the center of the pendant down, she felt the small center depress into the armoire and a corresponding
click
. The sound meant that the splints of the wooden pendant had extended outward and were now locked into place in the small holes carved into the sides of the inset. With a smile, she turned the armoire key and opened the door slowly while putting the chisel down quickly. Sebastian had explained that the pendant was a childproof way to keep the armoire closed. She hadn’t disagreed. Hurriedly, she put on the simple dress she’d given to Sebastian to stash for her just in case she had to come in through the back way.

Locking the armoire, she hurried to the far wall and eased the chisel into an almost invisible crack in the wall’s seam. Easing the secret panel open, she slipped into the dark corridor beyond and went in search of Prince Sebastian.

S
neaking around the Imperial palace wasn’t Ciardis’s finest moment. But sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do. She hit a secret panel in the wall and ducked out of the servants’ corridor once she made her way from the Imperial nursery and closer to the heir to the throne’s living quarters. Warily, Ciardis kept an eye on everything around her.

The sun was setting and the sky was beginning to darken with the orange glow of the fading daylight. She eased around a corner silently and ran straight into a butler. Quickly, Ciardis stumbled back with an apology.

Before she uttered more than, “I’m sorry,” the man interrupted her with a brusque tone. “Are you the new serving girl?”

Ciardis stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment. Stepping back, he thrust a silver tray laden with cakes into her hands. “Right, yeah. Listen, you were supposed to be in the Turquoise Room one minute ago. You’re
late
.”

Too late she realized it was the dress. A serviceable dull brown, it fit right in with the dresses of the serving girls scurrying up and down the corridor.

“But I’m—”

“Lost? Yes, I know. Happens to all of us,” he said, firmly turning her around by the shoulders.

“Down the hall, take a right, and head down the curved set of steps. You’ll serve the Prince Heir first and the head of the Weavers’ Guild second.”

Ciardis had been about to protest his manhandling her, but shut her mouth with a click of her teeth when she heard the words “Prince Heir.”

Well, I was looking for him. Seems I’ve found him.

Deciding to go along with a backwards glance at the butler who was already turning away to redirect another girl, Ciardis walked toward the Turquoise Room as directed. Her golden eyes were twinkling in mischief; she couldn’t help it and wondered with amusement how Sebastian was going to extract himself from the meeting and get her out of the room at the same time.

Adroitly handling the silver tray she swept down the curved steps and prepared to step onto the landing into the Turquoise Room. And that was when she heard the voice.

The woman’s smooth words floated up the steps toward Ciardis, and she froze. Maree Amber was inside. She’d know that voice anywhere.

Quickly realizing that her adventure was going to get her into a hell of a lot more trouble than she’d bargained for, she began to quietly back up the stairs, wishing the platter she carried was small enough for her to maneuver around in the tight space and flat out run.

“Hey,” came a quick whisper in her ear, “what do you think you’re doing?”

Ciardis hesitated. “I forgot some food for my platter. Need to go back up and get it.”

“Doesn’t matter, we can add it to the table later,” was the girl’s exasperated retort.

“But...but it’s the Prince Heir’s favorite.”

“And how would you know that?” said the girl in disgust.

“Look, I just need to get...”

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you won’t get me fired. Now
move
.”

Seeing no alternative, Ciardis walked back down the stairs and into the room while trying her best to hide her face with the platter. Unfortunately the tactic wasn’t going to work. It was a small room with less than five people inside. Ciardis included.

In the center of the room was a round table with glassware, plates, an overflowing cornupia of fruits and glazes for the treats. Around the table sat three individuals: Prince Heir Sebastian Athanos Algardis sat with his back to Ciardis; to his left was the head of the Companions’ Guild, Maree Amber; and to his right, staring directly at Ciardis with an unsavory gleam in his piglike eyes, was the man Ciardis assumed was the head of the Weavers’ Guild. The man never took his eyes off of her as she balanced the tray and kept a nervous eye on the occupants of the table. 

Even in a simple dress her curvaceous figure showed through, and Ciardis felt dirty under his steady gaze; it was as if he were mentally undressing her. He probably was. Shakily, she came up on the prince’s left and set the first entrée down on the table. Sebastian hadn’t turned his head or acknowledged her presence. But Ciardis knew that he was aware of her from the moment she had stepped into the room. Their bond had its useful moments.

Sebastian reached to pick up his napkin on his left side as she was withdrawing her right hand from the rim of his plate.  His hand brushed hers and he sent his thoughts to her when they touched briefly.

You are not supposed to be here.

I’m quite aware. Don’t suppose you could help get me out of here?

It was her only chance to reply before she turned to serve the head of the Companions’ Guild. Hell, if she were going to get in trouble, she might as well follow proper table etiquette. The more powerful the guild, the higher in rank they were. And the Companions’ Guild definitely outranked the Weavers’ Guild. There was no way she’d be caught serving that pig before she served the Head of her guild, no matter what the butler said.

As she balanced the silver tray in her right hand and held the small platter on top with her left, she prepared to set it before the woman who was going to kill her for being here. But then she stopped. Before she could even move the small plate of food in the woman’s direction, Maree Amber raised her hand in a commanding gesture. She didn’t turn; she didn’t speak. She showed Ciardis the back of her hand in a silent order to hold the food.

Ciardis didn’t question her; she just moved to circle around the table and give the leering man his platter. She had just walked around the back of Maree Amber’s chair when he smiled and also held up his hand. This time the head of the Weavers’ Guild spoke.

“I prefer you where you are,” said the guild head as sweat trickled down his forehead onto his fat jowls. He picked up a napkin to wipe his forehead and smiled at Ciardis – his lips stretched back over yellowed teeth and his beady eyes squinting from inside the fatty folds of a face too used to over eating. She felt like she needed a bath. She could feel Sebastian’s disgust and anger as well. Although his face was expressionless.

Snapping back to her duties she had no idea what to do now that two of her guests had turned down the food. She hoped it meant she could leave the room. Quietly she began to back away towards the entrance she came in. The second serving girl looked at her with horrified eyes and shook her head swiftly with an angry look. Uncertain, Ciardis stopped and watched as the other girl set out silverware. After the serving girl had unfolded a napkin in the lap of each patron and set out the silverware within reach she began to back away from the table while motioning for Ciardis to do the same. Ciardis did as suggested, never turning around as she walked backwards while mimicking the careful pace of the other servant until she felt the wall behind her.