The Mirror of Her Dreams (70 page)

Terisa,' Elega urged in a whisper, 'I have said that this charade is not necessary with me. You can no longer pretend passivity- and you need not pretend ignorance.'

Still Terisa didn't answer.

Slowly, Elega's brightness dimmed. She didn't give up, however. 'Since you have mentioned Prince Kragen, perhaps you will tell me your impression of him.'

With an effort, Terisa recovered her voice. 'Did you know the Alend monarchy isn't hereditary? It has to be earned. That's what he's doing here. He's trying to earn the right to become the next Alend Monarch.' She studied Elega closely; but the lady's expression betrayed nothing except its underlying intensity. 'I think that's more important to him than peace.'

This riposte was rewarded with a slight widening of Elega's eyes, a slow congealing of her smile. The way her pleasure curdled reminded Terisa that she had no real idea what was going on. Elega clearly understood what Terisa was saying better than Terisa did herself.

In a voice scarcely louder than a whisper, the lady asked, 'Do you not believe that you can trust me? We are women, you and I-despised in a world of men. There is no one here whom you
can
trust but me. No one else intends as much good to both Mordant and yourself. What may I do to convince you?'

That, at least, was a question Terisa could meet. Without hesitation, she said, Tell me what's going on, Before you ask me to trust you, start trusting me.'

Slowly, Elega nodded in acknowledgement. She was no longer looking at Terisa, and her smile was gone. 'You are better at this than I suspected. I cannot trust you until you have first trusted me. I have more to lose.'

Sadly, she turned to go.

In her confusion and frustration, Terisa wanted to demand, What is
that
, exactly? What have you got to lose that's more than everybody else in this mess? But she let it go. Instead, she said before Elega reached the door, 'Just tell me one thing. What makes you think I'm lying about Myste?'

The lady paused with her hand on the latch. A different smile touched her mouth, a smile like the affectionate and faintly condescending one she had occasionally given her sister. 'You do well, as I have said, Terisa. But you do not know Mordant well enough to exert power without risk. Plainly, you do not know that what you have said of Myste is impossible. Romish is too far. In this winter, it would be easier for a lone woman to rebuild our breached wall than to cross the Demesne and Armi-

gite on foot.' A suggestion of triumph. 'I doubt that you intend me to believe my sister has decided to kill herself.'

Still smiling, she left the room.

Terisa hardly noticed her departure. She was remembering the way King Joyse had stood in front of her with his eyes squeezed shut and tears spilling down his cheeks, in anguish at the idea that Myste had gone back to her mother.
If you lie to me-
he had said like an appeal.
If you dare lie to me
-But he must have guessed even then that she wasn't telling the'truth.

Her stomach heaved. Unfortunately, all the lies and plots and pain she had swallowed refused to be ejected. After a moment, she went to the door and opened it long enough to tell the guards that she didn't want any more visitors today. Then she bolted the door, sat down again in front of the fire, and had more to drink than she had ever had in her life.

18 A Little Conversation

THE NEXT MORNING, she had the kind of headache that made strong men swear off drink. Internal pressure seemed to be prising the bones of her skull apart, and her brain felt bruised. In addition, her throat had apparently been treated with sandpaper, and her stomach gave the impression that it was sloshing wetly from side to side in her abdomen.

Nevertheless she was no longer so badly baffled by her talk with Elega.

The lady and Prince Kragen must have formed some kind of alliance. Elega knew about Terisa's meeting with the lords of the Cares because the Prince had told her. What they hoped to accomplish, Terisa wasn't sure; but she was sure that whatever it was wouldn't make King Joyse either comfortable or happy.

And they hoped to include her for some reason.

Sometime during her fourth or fifth goblet of wine, she had found-rather to her surprise-that she didn't like what Elega was doing. King Joyse persistently refused to remind her of her own father. He had perhaps sacrificed most ordinary claims on the loyalty of his people; but he didn't deserve to be betrayed by his daughter.

So the question she was left with-the question on which neither too much wine nor a night thick with bad dreams had shed any particular light-was the one that had made her sick in the first place. What was she going to do about Geraden? Or about Master Eremis?

Since she was hungover, the Master's caresses no longer seemed entirely inevitable or convincing. Yet his arguments were still important. In fact, his reasons for distrusting Geraden made more sense than Geraden's for believing the worst of him. On the other hand, the idea that Geraden was a traitor felt absurd.

Groaning more to persuade herself she was alive than because it relieved the pain, she climbed weakly out of the knotted chaos which her dreams had made of the bed. The rooms were cold: by bolting the door, she had locked Saddith out; and she couldn't remember having put wood on the fires herself more than once or twice. But the cold forced her to take better command of the situation. Struggling into her robe, she went deliberately into the bathroom to drink as much water as her stomach could bear. Then she returned to the hearth in her sitting room and began trying to coax a little flame out of the warm coals.

In her condition, blowing on the coals was as painful as batting her head against the wall. Nevertheless she persevered because she was determined not to let anyone into the suite to help her. She didn't want an audience while she suffered the consequences of her folly. So she got the fire going despite the sharp pressure in her brain. She took a bath, even washed her hair out of sheer stubbornness. And she dressed herself alone, working her way into one of Myste's relatively demure gowns, a warm sheath of yellow velvet. Only then did she permit herself to unbolt the door to see if Saddith had left a tray for her.

In fact, the maid had done so. And, as a mercy, there was no one waiting to talk to her. In peace, she was able to eat a little porridge and drink a great deal of a hot beverage which she thought of as tea-although it tasted more like cinnamon and rose petals-before a knock at the door announced that she had a visitor.

She didn't trust her voice, so she moved carefully to the door and opened it.

Geraden stood outside.

Oh, terrific. That was just what she needed.

'I hope I'm not disturbing you,' he began at once. 'We didn't get a chance to talk yesterday. I wanted to tell you-'Then his smile faded. 'Are you all right? You look a little sick.'

Thanks to Master Eremis, the sight of the Apt made anxiety throb in her veins-which in turn threatened to split her head. 'It's the gown.' Her voice came out like a croak. 'Yellow isn't my colour.' Doggedly, she gave him a smile that felt like a crack across a porcelain vase, and invited him in.

Studying her, he said as soon as the door was closed, 'I tried to see you yesterday, but the guards told me to leave you alone. I couldn't help worrying.' Behind his concern, he looked self-conscious. 'How did your talk with Master Eremis go?'

She concentrated on keeping herself from groaning or shutting her eyes. 'Artagel told you?'

He nodded. 'He might have anyway. But you looked so bad when you came out of the cell, he felt he didn't have any choice.'

Then he must have told you what happened.' Her sudden bitterness surprised her. When had she begun to believe that she had the right to resent the way she was treated? 'I thought I was going to be able to accomplish something-I thought I was going to make a difference. I was going to persuade you to start cooperating with each other.' Instead, I'm supposed to spy on you, even though you're the only friend I've got left, now that Myste is gone. Even though you're the only one who cares about me enough to
do
anything. 'Instead, all I did was make a fool of myself.'

No, she wouldn't do it. She couldn't. The promise of a few intimate kisses didn't suffice. Geraden was too important to her. She would watch him, yes. But she wouldn't tell anyone what she learned. Not unless he did something which forced her to believe Master Eremis was right about him. And she would make the decision for herself. No matter what the Master offered her.

Unexpectedly, she felt better. In spite of her resolution, she found herself saying, 'I had too much to drink yesterday,' so that his feelings wouldn't be hurt. 'I suppose I was trying to drown my sorrows. My head feels like a football.'

This time there was a quirk of relief in his smile. 'I've done that a few times,' he admitted, pretending rue.
'
I still don't know what made me think it was a good idea. I guess I'd just had more of my own fumble-footedness than I could stand.

'Anyway, I'm sorry that happened to you,' he added in a way which suggested it wasn't his biggest regret. Tor your sake, I wish he had listened to you.

Terisa, I-'

He stopped abruptly, and his eyes began to fill with tears. Suddenly, she thought that he had come to tell her something terrible. Instinctively defensive, she went back to the door and bolted it. Then she faced his troubled brown gaze.

'What's the matter, Geraden?'

'Nothing,' he said quickly. 'Nothing.' Too quickly. 'I mean,

you survived, didn't you? It turned out all right.'

He couldn't sustain his pretence, however, 'I'm sorry.' His voice rasped, but he didn't turn away to hide what he was feeling. 'I'm really sorry. After we were rescued-after they got us out from underneath all that rock-Artagel took me back to my room. I drank quite a bit of wine myself. But when I went to sleep I kept having the same dream over and over again, exactly the same-' His expression twisted. 'For a long time, I thought it was a nightmare. It was the
worst
-'

He took a breath to steady himself. 'But I finally realized it wasn't a nightmare. I wasn't dreaming at all. I was just remembering.' He had to grit his teeth to make himself say, 'I was remembering that you almost got killed.'

Oh, is that all? She tried not to show her relief. What he was saying wasn't terrible after all.

That only happened because of me.'

Now she stared at him.

'I brought you here,' he explained miserably. 'I don't know how to take you back where you belong. People want you dead. They want to manipulate you. And the champion-

'You went through that whole ordeal-you were buried alive and came within inches of being crushed to death-because of me.

'When I saw Castellan Lebbick harassing you, I wanted to club him with a chair. I'm sorry. That's what I should have done. Just to make him
stop.
It's my fault you got hit.

'If anything happens to you, it'll break my heart.'

If she had felt healthier, she might have laughed.- Instead, she put her hand on his arm, touched the muscles knotted along his bones. 'Geraden,' she protested, 'he would have snapped you in half. He wants somebody to defy him, so he can crush them.'

In response, he looked at her in pain; and she recognized that he needed a better answer than that. No one else had ever declared so much concern for her. It was strange, really-and endearing. He had nightmares because of her?

She did the best she could. 'You kept me
sane.
You were in as much trouble as I was. Worse. Master Gilbur nearly knocked your head off. But you were still able to hold me together. If you hadn't helped me, I would have lost my mind hours before we were rescued.'

She should have gone on-should've said, You and Myste are the only friends I've ever had. No one has ever been as good to me as you have. I'm glad I'm here. But that was too much for her self-consciousness, her fragile sense of herself. Awkwardly, she dropped her hand.

And yet she had to do something for him that would mean as much as a touch. Rather than attempting to match his declaration, she tried to joke with him. This has got to stop. I'm going to start rationing you. If you apologize to me more than once a day, I'll kick you.'