Traditionally, additional performances and contests were scheduled for the weeklong celebration at the castle in the middle of the hot season, and I was hoping I might be permitted to attend. Valek had indicated to me that he would be teaching me additional tasting techniques in the afternoons, but the rest of the time between meals had, so far, been mine.
I had always loved going to the fire festival. Brazell had given the children in his orphanage a small allowance so we could go each year. It had been the most anticipated event at Brazell’s manor house. We would practice all year to qualify for the various contests, and save every penny possible for the entry fee.
Valek’s practical voice interrupted my thoughts. “You can get some nightclothes from the seamstress, Dilana. She should have included them with your uniforms. As to the rest, you’ll have to make do with what you can find.”
Valek’s words brought home the realities of my life; meaning fire festivals were not included. I might get a chance to see the festival, but I wouldn’t be able to sample the spicy chicken steaks or taste the wine.
Sighing, I picked up my journal and went into my room. A dry, warm breeze caressed my face. I cleaned the rest of the dust, but I only wiped away half of Margg’s message. She had been right in a way. The noose did wait for me. A normal life was not in my future. Her message would serve as a reminder to me to not get too comfortable.
I was either going to screw up and be replaced as the food taster, or I was going to foil an assassination attempt with my own death. I might not technically die from a broken neck, but the haunting image of an empty noose would always plague me.
The next morning I hovered outside Dilana’s workroom. She sat in a small patch of sunlight, humming and sewing. Her golden curls gleamed. Unwilling to disturb her, I turned to go.
“Yelena?” she called.
I stepped back into view.
“My goodness, girl, just come in. You’re always welcome.” Dilana put her sewing down, and patted the chair next to her. When I joined her in the sunlight, she exclaimed, “You’re as thin as my finest thread. Sit. Sit. Let me get you something to eat.”
My protests didn’t stop her from bringing me a large slice of buttered bread.
“My Rand sends me a steaming loaf of honey bread every morning.” Her light brown eyes glowed with affection.
I knew she would stand over me until I took a bite. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I suppressed my desire to taste the bread for poisons. Only when my mouth was full was she satisfied.
“How can I help you?” she asked.
Between bites, I asked about nightclothes.
“My goodness! How could I have forgotten? You poor dear.” She bustled around the room, assembling quite a collection.
“Dilana,” I said to stop her. “I only need a few things.”
“Why didn’t you come sooner? Margg should have said something to me.” Dilana was genuinely upset.
“Margg,” I began, then quit. I wasn’t sure how Dilana felt about her.
“Margg’s a mean old grump, a spiteful hag and an overgrown bully,” Dilana declared.
I blinked at her in surprise.
“She instantly dislikes anyone new, and she’s basically a plague on the rest of us.”
“But she was nice to you.”
“She hounded me for weeks after I first arrived. Then I snuck into her wardrobe and tightened all her skirts. It took her two weeks of physical discomfort to figure out what was happening.” Dilana swooped down next to me, smiling. “Margg can’t sew a stitch, so she had to tuck in her pride and ask for my help. Since then she’s treated me with respect.”
Dilana grabbed my hand in hers. “Unfortunately, you’re her new target. But don’t let her get to you. If Margg’s nasty, be nasty right back. When she sees you’re not easy prey, she’ll lose interest.”
I had trouble believing that this lovely woman was capable of such underhandedness, but her smile held a glimmer of mischief.
She draped a pile of nightclothes over my arms, and added an array of brightly colored ribbons.
“For the festival, my dear,” she said, answering my quizzical look. “To augment your beautiful dark hair.”
“Have you found a fugitive for the exercise?” the Commander asked Valek as soon as Valek arrived in his office for lunch.
I was tasting the Commander’s food when Valek once again destroyed my tentative sense of well-being. Granted, I had been working as the official food taster for the last ten days, but my stomach had finally stopped its painful contractions whenever I was near the Commander.
“Yes. I know the perfect person for the job.” Valek settled into the chair facing the Commander.
“Who?”
“Yelena.”
“What!” Having given up all pretense of minding my own business, my exclamation echoed the Commander’s.
“Explain,” the Commander ordered.
Valek smiled at his reaction as though he knew all along what the Commander would say. “My people are trained to avoid capture. Assigning one of them wouldn’t be fair to the search party. Therefore, we need a person not skilled in the art of evasion, but who is intelligent enough to bring some challenge to the exercise.”
Valek stood to continue his lecture. “The fugitive needs an incentive for a good chase, yet must return to the castle. I can’t use a real prisoner. None of the servants have any imagination. I briefly considered the medic, but she’s needed here in case of emergencies. I was about to assign one of your soldiers when I thought of Yelena.”
Valek gestured toward me. “She’s smart.” He counted with his fingers to emphasize his words. “She’ll have an incentive to perform well, and an incentive to return.”
“Incentives?” A frown creased the Commander’s face.
“The food taster receives no wages. But for this extra job, and others like it in the future, she can be paid. The longer she evades capture, the higher the payment. As for the incentive to return, that should be obvious.”
It was to me. The daily antidote to Butterfly’s Dust kept me alive. If I didn’t return to the castle by the next morning, they would be searching for a corpse.
“And if I refuse?” I asked Valek.
“I’ll recruit one of the soldiers. But I’ll be disappointed. I thought you would appreciate the challenge.”
“Maybe I don’t…”
“Enough.” The Commander’s voice was curt. “It’s preposterous, Valek.”
“That’s the whole point. A soldier would make predictable moves. She’s an unknown.”
“You might outguess our fugitive, but the people I’ve assigned to the exercise aren’t that quick. I’m hoping to find someone who can be trained as your assistant. I understand what you’re waiting for, but I don’t believe it’ll happen anytime soon. We need someone now.” The Commander sighed. It was the most emotion I’d witnessed from him. “Valek, why do you constantly undermine my orders to instruct an assistant?”
“Because so far I have disagreed with your choices. When the suitable candidate appears, then all efforts to train him will be fully endorsed.”
The Commander glanced at the tray in my hands. Taking the food, he ordered me to fetch some hot tea. A thinly disguised ruse to be rid of me while they