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The Magehound :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 129 из 216The king might not be as besotted with Beatrix as he once was, but he will not look with favor at any woman who appears to contest for the queen's place."
"Very clever," Zephyr said coldly. "You pit your rivals against each other. But only one will lose, and how will that benefit you?"
Cassia's face turned pale with anger, except for a flush of red high on her cheeks. For a moment Zephyr thought she would strike him. She quickly gathered herself and gave him a small formal bow.
"You are quick to find the salient point, elf. I see why Procopio keeps you on, even though you are so obviously past your time. Xavierlyn is no match for Beatrix, that is true. But I know the Cabal far better than you do."
Zephyr's only response to this was a bitter smile.
"Matteo is entangled with Keturah's daughter, and hence he is certain to fall under the Cabal's eye," the woman continued. "Therefore it stands to reason that wherever Matteo goes, trouble will follow."
The king's counselor turned to the watchful Procopio and offered him a conspirator's smile. "And if this trouble goes to the doors of Xavierlyn and Queen Beatrix, I daresay that both your cause and mine will be well served."
* * * * *
Tzigone wandered through the city, keeping, for a change, to the well-traveled roads. Her keen senses felt the frequent touch of magic as spells of warding or scrying or seeking or divination slid over her like raindrops off a frog. She'd heard that the experience was unnerving to those who had newly come to the land. It would be, she supposed, if any of the spells could actually have some effect on her.
Magic she found rather boring. Far more interesting to her was the beauty of this place. Twilight was her favorite time, and Halarahh was one of her favorite cities. She loved the pink coral houses, the towers of white or blue or green marble, the streets cobbled in semiprecious stone, the fanciful fountains that filled the air with a pleasant splash and bubble. The bright rim of the sun was sinking below the western walls, turning the distant mountains a deep purple and gilding the snow-capped tips of the highest peaks with golden light. Starsnakes winged toward the trees, seeking refuge for the coming night. The air was soft and still, redolent with the exotic blossoms that seemed to grow everywhere. Tzigone skirted a trellis covered with jasmine. It was the one flower she disliked, for reasons that she only dimly recalled.
A frustrated sigh escaped her. There was so much that she couldn't remember.
"Very clever," Zephyr said coldly. "You pit your rivals against each other. But only one will lose, and how will that benefit you?"
Cassia's face turned pale with anger, except for a flush of red high on her cheeks. For a moment Zephyr thought she would strike him. She quickly gathered herself and gave him a small formal bow.
"You are quick to find the salient point, elf. I see why Procopio keeps you on, even though you are so obviously past your time. Xavierlyn is no match for Beatrix, that is true. But I know the Cabal far better than you do."
Zephyr's only response to this was a bitter smile.
"Matteo is entangled with Keturah's daughter, and hence he is certain to fall under the Cabal's eye," the woman continued. "Therefore it stands to reason that wherever Matteo goes, trouble will follow."
The king's counselor turned to the watchful Procopio and offered him a conspirator's smile. "And if this trouble goes to the doors of Xavierlyn and Queen Beatrix, I daresay that both your cause and mine will be well served."
* * * * *
Tzigone wandered through the city, keeping, for a change, to the well-traveled roads. Her keen senses felt the frequent touch of magic as spells of warding or scrying or seeking or divination slid over her like raindrops off a frog. She'd heard that the experience was unnerving to those who had newly come to the land. It would be, she supposed, if any of the spells could actually have some effect on her.
Magic she found rather boring. Far more interesting to her was the beauty of this place. Twilight was her favorite time, and Halarahh was one of her favorite cities. She loved the pink coral houses, the towers of white or blue or green marble, the streets cobbled in semiprecious stone, the fanciful fountains that filled the air with a pleasant splash and bubble. The bright rim of the sun was sinking below the western walls, turning the distant mountains a deep purple and gilding the snow-capped tips of the highest peaks with golden light. Starsnakes winged toward the trees, seeking refuge for the coming night. The air was soft and still, redolent with the exotic blossoms that seemed to grow everywhere. Tzigone skirted a trellis covered with jasmine. It was the one flower she disliked, for reasons that she only dimly recalled.
A frustrated sigh escaped her. There was so much that she couldn't remember.