Page 52 of Skysong

Stop. Breathe.188

It would not do to lose herself now. She had to be strong, made of steel, not sorrow. There were things more important than herself at stake.

Andala focused on the blonde guard, trying to plaster a matching smile onto her unwilling face.

‘I’m here to see the Lady Lark,’ she said, pleasant, innocent.

The guard opened her mouth to respond, but one of the others cut across her: a muscular woman with striking blue eyes that bored into Andala’s own. ‘Nobody is to see the lark but those to whom the king has given his express permission.’

‘Of course,’ Andala said quickly, keeping her tone deferential. She hoped her meek servant’s guise was convincing. ‘I am the Lady Lark’s maid, or I was when she was both lady and lark. Now that she is – well, in her present state, the king has asked that I resume my attendance to her. He is concerned for her health, you see. I am to try to get her to take some food, or a little water … The king fears that if she does not eat or drink soon she may die, and if she dies …’

There was no need to spell out her meaning. The guards glanced nervously between themselves, apart from the well-built woman, who stared at Andala without speaking.

‘Very well,’ she said curtly, after what seemed like an age. ‘Rene, go inside with her. Let her try to feed the lark and then bring her back out.’

Andala worked to keep the relief from showing on her face. Rene, the blonde guard, looked thrilled to be in charge of escorting her. With a smile, she heaved open the ballroom doors, and Andala followed her in.

After the blaze of the hallways, it was like walking into a cave. There were no torches lit, no braziers full of bright-burning candles. The whole vast, empty space was deep in shadow. The only source of189light was a pair of tapers upon a small table, their dim, lonely flames reflecting faintly off the golden bars of Oriane’s cage. Why were they keeping her in the dark like this?

Andala began to make her way cautiously towards the platform. Rene was saying something, her whispers echoing through the empty ballroom like shouts, but Andala paid her no mind. The closer she got, the clearer the shape of Oriane became: a tiny thing, facing away from them, huddled against the darkness.

‘Rene,’ Andala said quietly, stopping abruptly before they reached the platform. She had cut the guard off mid-sentence, but could not bring herself to care. ‘I wonder if you might give us some space. I would not want the skylark to feel overwhelmed.’

Even in the darkness, Andala could tell Rene was uncomfortable. ‘I’m supposed to stay near, I think,’ she whispered uncertainly.

‘And you are near,’ Andala said, trying to sound as if she were glad of it. ‘I do not want to startle her, is all.’

After a moment, Rene nodded and retreated slightly, feeling her way over to the side of the room.

Andala’s heartbeat fluttered erratically as she ascended the stairs. Part of her wanted to turn, to flee. But the cage drew her nearer, as if she were a moth and Oriane the light, weak though her flame may now be.

Andala was relieved to find that there was food and water on the table near the cage, and that the guards hadn’t thought to question her having brought none herself. For Rene’s sake she made a show of picking it up, then knelt by the cage and put her face close to the bars.

Oriane had not moved. Her back was still to the room, her head bowed. She looked impossibly small, like she might fit in the palm of Andala’s hand. Her wings were folded tightly back, as if she were190trying to make herself even smaller. It was strange to see her so still. In this form she was usually soaring around the room and regaling them with her song.

Andala clenched her teeth. She remained there for a while in silence, not knowing what to say, not knowing how she would say it if she did. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,’ she whispered finally, as quietly as she could. ‘I’m sorry I … I’m sorry.’

For what felt like an age, Oriane was motionless. She might have been a toy, or a decoration, fixed fast to her perch with glue.

But slowly, finally, the skylark’s head turned.

Even in the low light, Andala could see Oriane in those little black eyes. She was hidden far back, more bird than woman right now, but she was there. She was listening.

‘We’re going to help you,’ Andala said immediately. ‘Kitt and I. We have a plan. The start of one, anyway. You don’t have to worry.’ She paused. ‘You have every right to be doing what you’re doing. What happened to you – what they’ve done …’

The barest twitch of a feather, then stillness.

Andala stared for a moment, then composed herself. ‘Don’t let them get to you. We’ll get you out of here. Kitt’s working on something to deal with the darkness. In the meantime, we’ll protect you—’

There was a crash as the ballroom doors burst open and a chorus of raised voices shattered the ringing silence. Andala jumped, turned. A small group of people was approaching, holding lanterns and candles aloft. They looked like little boats of fire bobbing along in a dark river.

One voice stood out among the others. ‘… isenough, Terault. We cannot abide this any longer. The people are panicking. Hana is distraught …’191

King Tomas had come to see the skylark.

Andala scrambled to her feet. She threw a panicked glance at Oriane, but apart from having turned to face away from the oncoming crowd, she showed no acknowledgement of what might be happening.

‘What business have you here, girl?’

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