Part 7 (1/2)
Fool, Linden. Was now the time to be distracted in this manner? And was now the time for him to watch her in this way? The tunnel. The samodiva. Who knew what she might be trying to do to them even nowa”or what her water might.
”I ...” Linden shook her head, trying to fix the thoughts inside. ”I certainly won't use more water if I can help it. It is hers, and she lied to us.”
”Did she, now? But have you not learned to always listen to the exact words being said, my apprentice? The agreement, Linde, was for her to let us go, not for her to help us. It is our own responsibility to find our way.”
Rianor's expression was unreadable, and suddenly, yet again, Linden remembered that he was a stranger, and one raised in what was almost a different world. The n.o.ble world. There were stories in the library books about n.o.ble Houses waging wars with honey-coated words long after the times of the real wars were over. Those were ”romantic” stories, of perfumed ladies and vain, handsome lords finding ”love” amidst all the glitter and poison. They were stupid stories, stories for Cal to sigh over. Linden had ignored them, more interested in learning about the real n.o.bles, the smart ones, those of the Science and Art Guilds, whom the commoners' entertainment books always blatantly ignored.
She had not learned about them. They had always been too unreachable. Even the Science Guild apprentice applications were only handled by the Science Guild's few commoners.
And here Rianor was, the first n.o.ble she had met, speaking about lies and almost-lies, about exact words to listen for amongst the many words a person got showered by. It was a valid point. It was certainly also valid amongst commoners, and yet it reminded Linden that she did not know him. That she did not know hisa”and, if she survived tonight, hersa”world.
If he survived, too. She wondered if his even breathing was controlled and intentional. She would not share with him the perturbing thought that his head injury might defeat him any time now. The bleeding had barely stopped and could start again at any moment. She marveled at his endurance. He had carried her until she had awakened, and even then he had only let her down when she had threatened to fight him.
”We still don't know what effects this water might have on us,” she said, making herself meet the lord's eyes, her words as calm as possible.
”Yes. There are too many things that we do not know in this world.” His own voice was angry, and she did not know the man enough to decide if the anger was directed at her.
”I think that I have retraced the way successfully,” he continued before she could think of a reply. ”The disposition of the tunnels is very different from that of the streets above, and I must rely on a non-exact estimation of where the stairs took us, but most probably this here is our door.”
”Then let us go.” At least as grateful for the distraction as for the surging hope, Linden reached towards the door. Just as she grabbed the unyielding handle, Rianor s.n.a.t.c.hed her and dragged her back.
”You heedlessa”” He squeezed her shoulders, seemingly unaware of her pain as he imprinted his fingers into her flesh. She suppressed a s.h.i.+ver as his furious steely eyes fixed hers. ”Just how can you do something like that!?”
Linden did s.h.i.+ver now, fighting to keep her strength. He looked as if he wanted to hit her, and she bit back a counter-insult, suddenly feeling lost and completely alone. She did not know what he would do to her, or what his reasons would be. Despite everything that he had done for her and the thoughts and experiences they had shared, she could not know.
This night has been too long. Nothing made sense any more. This man here was a stranger she could not trust, and even her own father had not trusted her. And she did not even know if he and Mom were alive ...
Now shaking uncontrollably, Linden still succeeded to swallow all tears but one, which warmed a trace on her cheek. Aware that it still demonstrated more feelings that she cared to show, she bit her lip.
”Wretch it,” she murmured, feeling the lord's fingers loosen their grip so that it did not hurt any more. Whatever n.o.bility rules she had trespa.s.sed with her rush towards the door, it was demeaning to cry her way out of the consequences.
Lord Rianor seemed to echo her thoughts.
”No, you are not going to cry now,” he said softly, anger still evident in his voice. ”Now you are going to listen to me very carefully, and then act accordingly.”
No, you are not going to command me, she wanted to reply, but it would be stupid, for opposing him in this would mean that she was defending her crying. Linden despised crying. She had so rarely cried before tonight.
”Just what did I do, if you care to explain!” She jerked back from him and winced as her head met a stone bulging from the wall. There were two such stones, she absentmindedly noted, as her legs weakened and wetness crept down her neck. Two stones, like guards, on both sides of the door.
”Let me see.” Rianor advanced upon her and carefully parted the hair at the back of her head, a.s.sisting her with his other hand. ”It is just a scratch, fortunately. And to answer your question, you did yet another thing that might have killed you. Linde, d.a.m.n it, how much mind does a person need to know that these doors might be protected?”
”And how much mind does a person need to warn me?” Linden stared at him, fury growing with the pain in her head. Doors were just doors. They were either locked or unlocked, either opened or did not open, and there was nothing special or dangerous about doors except in fairytales ...
But other things happened only in fairytales, too. She had been in a fairytale tonight.
”I cannot be aware of every stupid healer's or n.o.ble's whim,” she whispered, trying to keep the anger for it was better than the alternative feelings. ”How does one protect a door, anyway? What did you do to yours?”
”How I protected it? And did you even think to ask yourself how much I knew about the doors before tonight?” He shook his head, chasing an instant shadow in his eyes, and with a pang she realized that he was still in pain. ”As for stupid n.o.bles' whims, I do not doubt that the Lord of Waltraud has had his door taken care of so that something very nasty happens to people like you.”
”And what, my lord, are people like me?”
”People, my lady, that are connected to me. What did you think that I meant?”
She did not reply, but the answer was obvious. She had thought that he had referred to her as a commoner, a lower quality person to whoever the Lord of Waltraud was.
Rianor sighed. ”Never think that again, will you? And I do have a reason to tell you to listen carefully and act accordingly.” The shadow was back in his eyes, and Linden found herself simultaneously desiring to hit him, and embrace and comfort him.
”I told you that most probably this was our door. If I were certain, I would have said so. It might be the door to any House. Or it might lead somewhere else entirely.”
”I see.” Linden thought to apologize, but this was interrupted as Rianor held her more tightly and then released her and stepped in the direction of the door.
”Well,” he said just as he reached for the handle, ”let us see if it will open for me.”
The door screeched open just as Linden threw herself against it. The twilight beyond glimmered with silhouettes of dishes, pans, pots, and an image on the wall that looked much like that on the vial and the handkerchief; then her shoulder collided with the steel, and the door slammed closed.
”And who is heedless now!” she shouted as Rianor murmured, ”This is my House, all right.”
Linden gripped his s.h.i.+rt. She wanted to shake him and did not do it only because of his broken ribs. ”Rianor, how much mind does a person need to know that attacks that do not work on another might still work on him?” She inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to scream. ”I don't have whip-marks on my face, but you do!”
Rianor was watching her with a strange expression on his face. At the same time, a part of his attention seemed to be somewhere else, and finally Linden did shake him. ”You don't know me and what may or may not hurt me! I might even be one of the Waltraud people and this the door to my House!”
Now all of his attention snapped back to her, and he gently but firmly caught her wrists.
”Linde, you are right, and I do owe you an explanation about why I would do the same thing I was angry with you about.”
Linden sighed, disengaging her fingers from his clothes.
”An explanation? You owe me many of them.”
Rianor smiled faintly.
”You will get two for now. The first one is that I certainly knew that you were not connected to Waltraud. Or to any others I would not have liked you to be connected to, for that matter. As for the second one,”a”he reached his left hand towards hera””look at this.”
Slowly, he traced his wrist with his thumb, making sure that she was watching. A moment later, a glittering watch of white metal emerged on his wrist. Its hands moved, but its face showed not numbers but the engraved symbol .
Linden suddenly found it hard to open her mouth and speak. ”Oh, Master ...”
Rianor nodded, the hint of a smile gone.
”Yes, if you are going to mention the old man's name in connection to anything, this is it. What do you know about it?”
Linden regarded the symbol carefully, revulsion fighting sharp curiosity inside her, then both feelings were displaced by something else.
”How much does it hurt you?” she whispered, grateful that her voice was not shaking.
”It does not hurt me at all, my fair lady,” Rianor replied softly, then seemed to read something in her eyes and added, ”not any more. Now tell me what you know.”
”I don't know much.” Linden gave the watch a look of mixed feelings, then lightly placed her fingers on Rianor's elbow. ”I have only seen symbols of that kind on Mentor Maxim's whip.” She swallowed, the memory of the Mentors' attack and the old Mentor's unmoving body still too fresh.
”I am not supposed to have seen them, I think, but I wanted to know as much about the whip as I could, so I sneaked close to him once, after Confession. He was just talking to my mom about me, telling her”a”Linden laughed nervouslya””what a good girl with a spotless quintessence I was. He had whipped everyone in the temple but me that day, and the whip was still out, as if he had forgotten about it.”