Trune began speaking to the men, telling some light anecdote, and everyone laughed heartily, forced. The soup served, she put the much lighter tureen back in the dumbwaiter, slid closed the door, and pulled on the ropes to send it back down to the kitchen. She stood by the sideboard, hands clasped in front of her, and waited until it was time to serve the next course.
Her demurely clasped fingers pulsated with power, even as they throbbed with habitual pain. She could feel the gathering of power, rather like the priming of the neighborhood water pump, the growing pressure eager for release.
Not yet, she told herself. Not yet.
“Girl, stand here,” Trune ordered. He gestured next to his chair, and with all her composure she stood next to him, though his proximity nauseated her. He leaned back, and waved a hand, displaying her to the rest of the Guild.
“Behold the youngest daughter of House Mederos. She’s not what you expect, gentlemen. A spoiled child yes, but so much more. Much more.”
With an effort she focused her gaze on Mr Lupiere. He had the grace to redden over his whiskers.
“I’ve been interested in this girl for a long time, ever since she had an interesting reaction to the loss of the Mederos fleet. I asked around. Governesses are eager to talk, if you ask them the right questions – and give them the right coin.”
Ah, so that had been her old governess, who, just like Michelina, had sold the family out. There was general laughter around the table, but she noticed that some of the men looked uneasy.
“I made sure the daughters were sent away to a particular school, and gave the headmistress particular directions. Sadly, she was overzealous in her correction. Nonetheless, I think that we can still make use of what we have here.”
He knew. He knew what she had done, what she could do, and he intended to use it.
“Trune,” Mr Havartá said. “I know you’re enjoying yourself, but if you could bring this to a close, I would appreciate it.”
Trune glared at him. “Forgive me. I do get carried away. We’re merchants. We deal in the known world and everything has a price. But what if I told you, gentlemen, that this young lady has power at her fingertips – power that can move waves and start fires? What price would you put on that?”
They all looked around uneasily, and she almost laughed at their easily read faces. What in the name of Saint Frey have we gotten ourselves into? she could imagine them thinking.
Parr licked his lips and jumped up. “I’ve seen it!” he cried. “I tell you, I’ve seen what she can do. She did it that night, when I was over for dinner. I watched her do it.”
They all stared at him. Tesara gave a little shrug and spoke to the rest of the table. “He’s quite disordered, clearly,” she said. “I do hope you realize that.” There was a mutter of laughter and Parr’s face went red.
“Quiet,” Trune said, through gritted teeth. “You will not speak unless told to.”
“Trune,” Mr Havartá said. He set down his napkin and pushed back his chair. He looked livid. “I’ve had enough. There will be a meeting of the Guild to discuss–”
“She’ll demonstrate.”
Havartá stopped in mid-sentence.
With barely disguised impatience, Trune licked his fingers and pinched the flame from the taper at the end of the table in front of him. The candle went out, sending up a tendril of smoke. He grabbed Tesara’s wrist and twisted it slightly.
“Light it,” he said.
She gave him a bland look, and went to take a still-lit taper to relight the other. He yanked back on her wrist. She cried out.
“Not that way,” he said. “You know what I want.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” she said. Her fingers were really throbbing, and now a buzzing in her temples had begun as well, the resonating power spreading throughout her body. She was having trouble keeping the energy in check, and she was growing light-headed.
“Light it!” he roared.
She flinched despite herself. “I can’t,” she managed. She turned to the table. “Mr Havartá, please. I don’t know what he wants.”
“Light it, or I’ll break your other hand, you little bitch.”
The men shifted uneasily.
“Trune…” Havartá began.
The creaking of the dumbwaiter took them all by surprise, and the sound of the bell sang out in the dining room. Everyone remained frozen, as if wondering what to do, including Trune. Tesara shrugged, and went over to the dumbwaiter, her trembling fingers undoing the latch.
When she slid open the panel, Yvienne crouched in the small space, peering over a platter of sauced meat. Tesara stared at her in utter astonishment. Then she grabbed the platter by its handles, wrestled it out of the compartment, used her shoulder to slide the dumbwaiter door closed, and set the platter down on the sideboard. The dumbwaiter began cranking again, and she knew it was going upstairs.
Now she had to keep the gentlemen here as long as she could.
So Trune wanted a demonstration, did he? Tesara smiled.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Yvienne had found the key under the half-buried rock in the shrubbery, exactly where it was hidden in the old days, and let herself in through the garden gate. The trapdoor to the cellar glistened from the wet night air and reflected light from the kitchen. It groaned as she lifted it open, and she shut it carefully over her, feeling claustrophobic in the dark, cramped space. She paused, listening to muffled male voices in the kitchen above her. A glimmer of light at the other end of the cellar came in through the uneven staircase that led
