“The Shepherd and the Tiger.” As the words tumble out, they seem so right, but the king’s eyebrows go up.
“I thought I knew all of the old stories,” he says. “But I must admit, I’ve never heard that one.”
“It’s the show we’d meant to perform at the Fêtes des Ombres,” I say. “Adapted from the story of the swineherd.”
“Ahh.” The curiosity on the king’s face shades into recognition—and something more. Reminiscence. “My late brother was sometimes called the Shepherd of Chakrana.”
“He was the inspiration,” I say, remembering the man who called himself a shepherd, despite the fact that my country had no sheep. I hadn’t understood it back then—the way the general had looked at us as though we were mindless animals in need of protecting. But I have seen it in the king’s eyes, in the way he dismisses both our fears and our power as mere superstition.
Still, I know enough to keep my thoughts out of my own expression, and the king’s smile deepens. “I look forward to the performance,” he says. Then he gestures to the pile of fantouches at my feet. “I’ll have the servants gather these up and bring them to the opera house. Let me show you the space, so you can prepare.”
“One more thing, Your Majesty,” I say, feeling bold. Is it my malheur, or only that I finally know my role? The king turns back, a waiting audience. “I’ve been thinking about the ship you promised,” I tell him. “I’m not sure I’ll need it.”
“But how will you return to Chakrana?” he asks, his words an echo of my own. Is he trying to mock me? His expression is innocent, but I know better. Never underestimate him, Theodora had said. Know your enemy.
“You were right,” I say, dropping my eyes so he can’t see the truth in them. “There is much more for me here than there ever was in Chakrana.”
“Indeed,” the king agrees. Rage flares in my chest; I turn away quickly to cover.
“Can I make another admission?” I say, picking up the book with a gesture I hope looks casual. “In return for my performance, I’d much rather have this.”
“A blank book?” In the light of the souls, the king’s eyes seem to glitter. “Why?”
I wet my lips, my mouth suddenly dry, but the truth gives me my lines. “There is a legend in my country,” I say, my voice low enough he has to hold his breath to listen. “About a priceless relic, kept safe in a temple for centuries. One day, Le Trépas stole it and brought it to Aquitan. A Book of Knowledge,” I add, offering it to the king. “Said to hold all the secrets of the dead.”
The king cocks his head, then glances down at the book. There is a strange look on his face, almost hesitant, as he takes it from me. As though here, under the earth, surrounded by the dead he cannot see, he himself feels the pull of what he calls superstition. Does his hand tremble as he opens the book? But when he sees the blank page, he throws his head back and laughs.
“The knowledge of the dead! Of course,” he says, still chuckling. “Very amusing. I can imagine your own disappointment.”
“The book taught me a valuable lesson,” I counter, with a small smile—just so. “I would like to keep it as a reminder of all the things I leave behind me.”
“Bien,” the king says, closing the book and tossing it carelessly back on the shelf. “It’s all yours after the show, though I think you’re a bigger fool than I am not to ask for something else! Now come,” he adds, wiping tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes. “Let’s go see the opera house.”
Act 2,Scene 18
Night in Nokhor Khat. Flowering vines hang in bowers over the path, and night moths flit through the perfumed air. On the narrow path, ELLISIA leads CHEEKY, TIA, and CAM to the garden gate of the Ruby Palace. Surreptitiously, CHEEKY adjusts her dress.
ELLISIA: Are you uncomfortable in the dress, or uncomfortable with the plan?
CHEEKY: The plan is fine.
She plucks at the waist of her lavender gown, then looks sidelong at CAM.
I should have chosen the green sarong.
ELLISIA: Raik prefers a more Aquitan style. Besides, the green is better on Camreon.
CAMREON makes a face as CHEEKY adjusts her dress again.
CAMREON: Thanks.
TIA nudges him with a gentle smile.
TIA: Are you all right?
CAMREON: You tell me.
He gives her a bitter smile.
It was . . . difficult to look at myself in the mirror.
TIA: You look—
CAMREON: Don’t say “beautiful.”
TIA: I would never. But you are well disguised.
CAMREON: I suppose that’s something.
ELLISIA: We can still go back.
She hesitates, looking at CHEEKY particularly.
We can all still go back.
CHEEKY: With all the money you stand to make?
ELLISIA: I’m a madame, not a monster. I’ll wipe the books if you want to turn around.
The look on ELLISIA’s face is genuine, but CHEEKY is resolute.
CHEEKY: No. We can do this.
Raising her chin, she smooths her gown one more time, then folds her hands demurely and continues on to the palace.
Outside the entrance, two Chakran men stand guard—both apparently alive. Not so the dog chained between them. The slavering creature stands as ELLISIA leads CAM, CHEEKY, and TIA to the gate. The guard on the right, TAMAR, narrows his eyes.
TAMAR: Four of you?
TIA: Variety is the spice of life, they say.
ELLISIA: Only three tonight, Tamar. I have business at the inn, but the ladies can keep Raik good company. Especially Cheeky.
ELLISIA nods at the showgirl.
I heard Raik has been looking for her.
TAMAR stares as the other soldier reaches for CHEEKY’s arm. ELLISIA slaps his hand away.
Look with your eyes, Soro!
SORO rubs his hand, off balance, looking to TAMAR.
TAMAR: I don’t think the king will be interested in the others.
ELLISIA: I don’t think
