Long Live the Queen (Book 5 of The Powder Trail)

Chapter Twenty One: Watchful Beauties

She awoke to find her cheek pressing against cool marble. There was a sharp, resinous smell – floor wax? Boot blacking? – and for a moment she thought she had been brought round by smelling salts.

No. Armour polish.

She rolled onto her back. The ceiling was a mess of chandeliers and white-plaster wreaths. She was in the glaring, gaudy throne-room at Pandemonium, panelled with mirrors on one side and French windows on the other, lit with hundreds of candles flickering down from gilded chandeliers and candelabras.

Val was moving from one to the other, lighting the candles with the aid of a long taper. The flames were reflected in her breastplate, making a little bronze galaxy of stars.

Ellini tried to catch her eye, but the woman kept on lighting candles, without looking at her. Perhaps she had always been a Wylie. She believed wholeheartedly in the uselessness of men, after all. And she had started out working for Robin, which you probably couldn't do unless you were also working for Myrrha.

Myrrha herself was sitting in the throne at the far end of the room, toying with a pack of playing cards that were stacked on one arm. She was restlessly cutting and shuffling the deck, kicking her ankles against the base of the throne, but she didn't look at Ellini, any more than Val did.

The only person who would meet her eyes was Robin.

He was standing by the throne, on the opposite side from the deck of cards. Ellini knew she should be surprised to see him, but she wasn't. She knew her heart should be sinking, but it couldn't. Perhaps she was still in shock.

He was pale but perfectly composed. There was an edge to his sharp features that looked like hatred.

She realized she had never seen anyone sitting in that throne before. Lord and Lady Vassago hadn't used it. There was only one throne, and their rank was perfectly balanced. Ellini seemed to recall that they were technically brother and sister.

There had been a slab of marble beside it, with the impression of two footprints sunk into the stone, but these had been too big for the dainty, slippered feet of Lord and Lady Vassago.

Now she knew that the throne had been made for Myrrha and the footprints had been made for Robin. They were in those recesses now, and they looked so perfect, as if the stones of the palace had grown up around them over long, slow, graceful years.

Like sleeping beauties – no, watchful beauties, gazing back and making plans all the time you were gawping at them.

It was a terrible thought.

Ellini got up as far as her knees, and then decided to conserve her strength. Staying upright wasn't as important as staying conscious.

She had brought the flavour of that dream with her into the waking world – and most of all, the memory of Robin trying to steady his voice, trying to suppress his emotions. And the conviction that the emotions he was trying to suppress were nothing but greed and excitement.

She tried to ignore that thought, because she didn't like where it led. She blinked hard and said to Myrrha, "I'm here to challenge you to a-"

"Mmm," said Myrrha, without looking up. "To a battle of wits. Why don't you take a few minutes to collect them first? There's no hurry." She cut the deck again and looked at the card she had just revealed. "In fact, I challenged you. Months and months ago. Didn't you realize we'd been playing all this time?"

Ellini hesitated. Robin shifted from one foot to the other, but there was no expression on his face.

"Oh," she said at last. "I see. The dream I just had..."