Part 18 (1/2)

”Celyn - mulled wine! How clever of you.” Meri crossed the room and shed her gloves, dropping them on the tapestry tuffet.

”Did you and your father have a good ride?” My voice sounded sharp.

”Snowy,” she said, sinking down beside me. ”It got a lot colder than I expected.” She looked out the window, into the thickening snowfall, and I wondered where her gaze tracked to.

”Meri, you would tell me, wouldn't you, if you had a secret?”

She blinked at me in surprise. ”A secret? What do you mean?”

I shrugged. ”You know, anything. Like if you had - a lover, or something?”

”A lover? Celyn, what in the world are you talking about?” She seemed guileless, confused. ”If I had a lover, you can be sure I wouldn't keep him a secret!” She laughed. ”And anything else? Of course I would tell you. Unless I was commanded not to by my lord father and lady mother, of course. But those would be official secrets that really weren't my right to dispose of any way I wished to.”

And that was the crux of the problem before me. The things I knew, I had no right to know. They weren't my secrets to keep or give away. ”I'm no good at secrets,” I said, looking at the patterns in the red and gold of the tuffet. ”I always have to tell somebody, or I'll go mad with the feeling - it's like holding on to a hot ember.”

Meri gave me an odd look for a moment, and then smiled. ”Well, then,” she said, ”I guess I shan't be telling you any of my secrets, after all!” She stood and brushed droplets of melted snow from her skirts. ”I'm soaked,” she said. ”Help me change?”

She raised her arms expectantly, so I came to her side and unlaced her wool riding gown. The folds of heavy damp fabric slipped easily to the floor. Beneath the wool gown and her linen kirtle, her smock was very sheer, and as I helped her step out of the kirtle, I thought I saw something strange. Crossing the boundary between curiosity and shocking rudeness, I pulled her smock down off her shoulder, exposing the bare pale flesh - and the tiny tattoo, still slightly pink and swollen, at the base of her shoulder blade.

The purple tattoo.

Of a seven-pointed star.

I stood there like an idiot, the corner of her smock still in my hand, too stunned to say anything.

”Celyn!” Meri pulled away, tugging it back over her shoulder.

”Meri, are you crazy?”

”What?” She held the smock closed with one hand balled up at her breast. ”It's nothing.”

”Nothing? A tattoo? And - and of -” Ridiculously, I almost couldn't bring myself to say it. I had to whisper. ”The Mark of Sar? When did you get this? Where did you get it? Who gave this to you?” Who would have the skills - and the nerve - to commit such a work of madness? Brand ing the Mark of Sar into the heir to Bryn Shaer?

”I don't have to tell you anything!”

”No, you don't, but - what if someone saw it?”

She frowned. ”Who's going to see it?”

”Anyone! Your mother - a seamstress! Your husband?”

She made a sound, but I couldn't tell if it was derisive or hopeless . . . or something else. ”You have one.”

Now how in the world would she know that? It was just my Guildmark, three tiny black dots on my hip. I'd had it since becoming a thief. Officially.

”I saw it once. In the bath.” She sounded defensive.

”Meri, I don't think you realize how dangerous this is.”

”I do!”

I grabbed for her shoulder again. ”No, I don't think you really do! That's not something you do on a lark, for a thrill! What do you think would happen to you if someone found that?” I shoved my own sleeve back from my arm, revealing the gash that had faded into a long pink stripe on my forearm. ”Look. Look! I didn't get this falling into some rosebush at the convent. I got it from Greenmen. Greenmen, Meri. I'm lucky that's all they did. And I don't have the Mark of Sar branded into my body.”

Meri's eyes were wide and sober, but I saw a flash of defiance in them. I wanted to be proud of her. I also wanted to slap her, shake her, club her upside the head and drag her down the mountain by her hair. I wanted not to feel anything about this.

”Stagne,” she whispered finally.

”The Sarist boy,” I said, and she nodded. ”Oh, Meri.”

”But he's not my lover,” she insisted. ”At least - I don't know, Celyn. It's all so strange.”

She didn't have to explain it to me. But apparently she was going to, anyway. They had met, entirely by accident, soon after Daul's arrival when she started riding out alone in the morning. Stagne had been gathering firewood near their camp and had foraged too close to the castle grounds. They had been meeting ever since, and - When she faltered, I realized Meri was trying to figure out how to tell this story without mentioning magic. And I was just so tired, and I didn't have the energy to lie anymore, or keep one more secret. So I pulled off the silver bracelet and caught up her hand, holding it tightly right before both of our faces, so she could see the tendrils of magic weaving our fingers together.

”I knew it,” she whispered.

I shook my head. ”No, I just see it. It's not the same.”

Her eyes were wide and eager. ”Durrel said -”

”Durrel! What are you talking about?”

She was nodding, transfixed by the air swirling around our hands. ”In the boat, he thought you had magic, and that's why you ran away from the Celystra, and he told my parents -”

”Your parents think I have magic?” I yanked my hand away so fast she stuck her stinging fingers in her mouth. ”Pox and h.e.l.ls.”

I felt stupid; thoughts died only half formed. ”I did leave the Celystra because of my magic,” I said slowly. ”Because that's where they torture people with magic. You have to be more -”

Behind us, the door slammed, and we both jumped. In a flash, I draped Meri's gown across her shoulders and spun to face the door, my heart racing.

”Well, don't you two make a pretty picture,” Phandre said, crossing the room. ”I heard you yelling from halfway down the hall, and here I find you, practically naked in each other's arms! Is there something going on I don't know about?”

Her voice was teasing, but Meri's white skin flushed pink.

”I - got wet. In the snow,” she stammered, her defiance evaporated.

”You don't have to explain it to me,” Phandre said, raising her hands and walking through to her own room. ”Let me know when the wine is hot.” Her door shut with a click.

I didn't say anything else to Meri after Phandre was gone. What would have been the point? She had the tattoo - it was hers for life.

Until some Inquisitor's fire burned it off of her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

I approached Marlytt after dinner that night. I had to secure some free hours in which to balance my growing list of insane responsibilities, and the prince was already eating into my schedule. ”I need you to look after Meri for a while tonight,” I said.

”I thought that was your job,” she said, s.h.i.+fting in her seat. ”What are you doing? It's something for Daul, isn't it?”