sleeping alone since waking two mornings ago, knowing someone had been in her bedchamber. Even now she imagined Yaellin de Mar leaning over her sleeping form, the streak of silver in his black hair aglow in the dark. She hid a shudder.
Laurelle must have sensed her fear. She sighed. “What is this all about?”
Dart glanced to Pupp. He lay in front of Laurelle. His fiery eyes watched with fascination as she knit a hole closed in her hosiery. Firelight danced behind him, but he cast no shadow. Dart tired of all her secrets, so many now she felt near the point of bursting.
She could stand it no longer. The secrets so filled every space inside her that she found herself unable to eat. Sleep came fitful, even while sharing Laurelle’s bed. She felt worn so very, very thin.
Laurelle stared at her with genuine concern. She set down her darning and reached over to take Dart’s hand. “You’re trembling.” She scooted over, drawing Dart closer. “What is troubling you so?”
Dart shook her head-not so much in refusal as in confusion.
Laurelle leaned until her nose was almost touching Dart’s. “You can speak to me.” Fingers squeezed. “Whatever you tell me can stay between just the two of us.”
Dart felt something loosen deep inside her, shuddering free. A sob rose to her lips and burbled out before she could swallow it back.
Laurelle pulled her into an embrace. “Dart, what’s happened?”
She shook her head, then mumbled in Laurelle’s ear, “Something horrible…”
Laurelle sat back. “Tell me. What one can’t bear alone, two may carry more easily. Share.”
Dart stared at her friend. For all her life, she had lived with secrets. She watched Pupp crawl around them, tail tucked, low to the ground, sensing her turmoil but unable to comfort. For so long, she had found security in silence, keeping her true self hidden away. What would it be like to end all that? To live her life openly? She didn’t know what distressed her more: to speak or not to speak.
Laurelle waited for her to decide, holding her hands.
Dart knew she had no choice. The secrets inside her had become a great ocean of dread, and Laurelle was a moon, drawing a tide. Dart felt the shift inside her. She couldn’t let it all pour forth. To be that empty and exposed was too frightening, too shameful. She could not speak of what happened in the rookery; that was too deep, the darkest part of her inner ocean. But on the surface roiled her most immediate fear.
Yaellin de Mar.
Laurelle seemed to sense the flow before Dart even began speaking. She settled herself as a swordsman might set his footing before an attack. She nodded to Dart, ready.
“It all started in the Eldergarden,” Dart began slowly. Her words came out haltingly, then grew in pace as she related the murder of Jacinta and the Hand that held the blade.
“Yaellin de Mar?” Laurelle’s eyes had grown wide. A trace of disbelief shone there.
Dart stared back at her friend. She had found strength with the telling of the story. She allowed it to shine forth. With her conviction, the glint of disbelief slowly faded from Laurelle’s eyes.
“Why hasn’t he spoken of it?” Laurelle asked. “I’ve heard no whisper of such strange events.”
“I don’t know. Maybe all were sworn to secrecy.”
“And this woman… this Jacinta, have you inquired who she might be?”
“I dared not ask. If Yaellin found that it was I who was spying upon them in the gardens…”
Laurelle reached out and took her hands again. “And you’ve kept this corked up inside you all along.” Her eyes shone with a mix of awe and respect. “You’ve more steel in your blood than I.”
“I… I had no choice.”
“You could’ve told me earlier.” A twinge of hurt entered Laurelle’s voice.
“I didn’t want to involve you. If there was danger, I wouldn’t have you come to harm.”
Laurelle squeezed her hand. “We’re sisters now. Serving here together. What you face, I will face, too. Together.”
Dart so wanted to believe her. Hope swelled through her.
“Is all this why you wish to sleep here?” Laurelle asked. “Are you scared of Yaellin?”
“Something else happened,” Dart said. She told of her waking two mornings ago and finding a brazier still hot, smelling of strange alchemies.
Laurelle covered her mouth with one hand. “Someone was in your room.”
“I think it was Yaellin.”
“Why? Surely he doesn’t know it was you in the gardens. You’ve spoken to no one about it.”
“It was the dinner, after our first harvests from Lord Chrism. You told the story of Healer Paltry and the exploding illuminaria. For some reason, this drew Yaellin’s attention to me. He kept watching me.”
Laurelle nodded. “I remember that. I thought he was just infatuated with you. You were looking lovely in that dress.”
Dart was taken aback. “Lovely? Me?” She shook her head. That was not the point. “No. It was your story of the illuminaria. He was watching me so intently as we left the dinner. I know it was him in my room. Who else could it be? He works in secret, tells no one, dabbles in dark dealings, like in the gardens. Then the very night Yaellin’s attention is drawn to me, someone sneaks into my room, burning strange alchemies.”
“But why would he do that? What did the alchemies do? Do you remember anything from that night?”
“Dreams… bad dreams.” Her voice drifted back to the strange flight and escape from some dark wood, chased by unknown pursuers.
“Nothing more?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t see we have any choice,” Laurelle said.
Dart frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We must tell Lord Chrism all that happened. He’ll know what to do.”
Dart clutched Laurelle’s hand. “We mustn’t.”
“Why? He should know of Yaellin’s strange actions.”
Dart feared the attention such an accusation would raise. She would be singled out. She would most likely be soothed to prove her testimony against one of Chrism’s respected Hands. And when soothed, how much else would be revealed? Her dark secrets could not withstand such a bright light. To expose Yaellin meant exposing herself.
Laurelle continued to stare at Dart, eyes questioning.
“I cannot.” Dart stumbled over her words. She had no way to explain to Laurelle without revealing her deepest shame.
“Well, I can.” Laurelle stood. “I’ll tell Lord Chrism. I can explain to him it was I who saw Yaellin in the Eldergarden. That should raise enough of a tumult to sanction him. He’ll not be able to sneak into your room after that. The truth will come out.”
“No. You’ll be soothed. They’ll find out you were lying.”
“And by that time, Yaellin will be under scrutiny. It will be safe for you to come out of hiding.”
Dart realized Laurelle had misinterpreted her reticence to expose Yaellin as a fear of reprisal.
Laurelle gained her feet. “We should wait no longer. I noticed that Chrism keeps a light burning in his room till past the ring of the final bells. I could go now and tell him what you told me.”
Dart stood. She had an urge to deny everything, to tell Laurelle it was all a fabrication, a fireside story, nothing more. But fear and exhaustion kept her silent. A part of her wanted this secret taken from her. Dart found her voice. “No.”
Laurelle pulled a silver robe over her nightclothes. “We must tell Lord Chrism. Yaellin may even be tied to the assassination of poor Willym.”
Dart nodded. “I know. But it should be I who tells him. It is my accusation to speak.”
Laurelle handed Dart a second robe, a crimson one. “Are you sure?”
She certainly was not. But she had no choice. Laurelle was right. If Yaellin was pursuing some vile purpose, Dart would have to risk herself to expose him. Others, like Willym, might die if she kept silent. With the decision made, she felt a surge of relief. Come what may, it would finally be over.
Laurelle helped her into the robe. “I’ll go with you.”
Dart found her hand in Laurelle’s. Tears rose in Dart’s eyes.
