Give Me (Wyrd and Fae #1)(15)

“Let him go, Lourdes. You can have any man you want.”

“I want Galen.” Lourdes’s eyes flashed, and she slammed the cupboard shut. “And he wants me.” She turned a slow circle, scanning the kitchen’s shadowed nooks and countless piles of stuff.

Easy as knowing where the wild garlic bloomed, Elyse found the glimmer glass in the basket by the window under a tea towel embroidered with peonies. She lifted out a thin rectangular sheet about fourteen inches on the diagonal.

“Give me that.” Lourdes snatched the glass away then softened. “I’m sorry, Elyse. I only mean that I know how to use it.”

The glimmer glass on the roof deck was simple. It was wyrded for viewing unobstructed distances, and anybody could use that one, even Elyse. This glass was more sophisticated. It could show human beings—though most wyrders put on a general glamour to confound all glimmers. If you touched it you could hear their conversations in your head. It could connect across a valley, over mountains to another country, or through walls in a house. Only wyrders could work it.

Lourdes set it on the table and said “Galen” and turned her wrist with a delicate flourish. So simple. So easy to say a word and flick a wrist. Not so easy to channel the power that made it all effective.

Lourdes drew a sharp breath as Galen’s image filled the glass. Elyse watched from over her shoulder. Poor Lourdes. He was certainly handsome. He had perfect skin, a strong jaw and noble cheekbones. His hair was the color of dry sand, brushed casually back off his clean-shaven face. When he smiled he had dimples, and his brown eyes were kind and intelligent.

“I won’t refuse, Frona.” He didn’t smile now. “I know my duty.”

Lourdes spread her hands apart over the glass, and the picture widened to include their mother. Galen said, “Can you tell me about her? About Princess Diantha? I’d like to be prepared, in case…”

“In case she looks like a toad,” Elyse said.

“I can arrange for that.” Lourdes winked. Elyse wanted to believe she was joking.

Mother handed Galen a purple satin pouch with a black corded drawstring.

“Glamour dust,” Elyse whispered.

“She hates me,” Lourdes said. “My own mother.”

“Take this to a private place,” Mother told Galen. “Toss a handful of the contents into the air and call the princess’s name three times. Once you’ve spoken, be still. The next word you speak will end the charm.”

“What does it do?” Galen looked doubtful.

Glamour dust was an innocuous wyrd, useful for eavesdropping but otherwise harmless.

“I hope he catches the little shrew screaming at her maid,” Lourdes said. “I hope her face is blotched and bloated and she has an abscess on her eye.”

“The magics work on Sarumosian royals?” Galen frowned. “Even so, I don’t like to invade Diantha’s privacy.”

“It’s a glamour, not a magic,” Mother said. “It’s only a charm. It won’t change anything or cause anything to happen. Take it. Use it or not, as you see fit.”

“Clever,” Lourdes said.

Indeed, it was a clever move. Galen would take the dust and tell himself he’d only use it if absolutely necessary. But curiosity was its own charm. He’d be tossing glamour dust in under an hour.

“She’s jealous.” Lourdes uttered an anguished groan. “She can’t stand to see me happy.” She raised the glass above her head, ready to smash it against the worktable.

“Stop!” Elyse pulled it away, easier than she expected. “You know that isn’t true.” She slipped the glass into its basket. Out in the courtyard their mother followed Galen to his horse. His face was serious as he mounted, but Elyse sensed his excitement. He couldn’t wait to go somewhere private and find out what Diantha looked like.

“She’s old and sick and growing weaker every day.” Lourdes paced the kitchen. “You’ve seen it. She knows with Galen I’d be more powerful than she ever dreamed of.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Elyse watched the prince ride away then turned back to the kitchen. Lourdes was going through the cupboard again. “She loves you.”

“She’s changed,” Lourdes said. “She’s been strange ever since the Great Wyrding.”

“She’s been ill, not strange. And you’re only making yourself feel worse.”

“You’re right.” Lourdes closed the cupboard and smiled with sarcastic sweetness. “I should be pleasant and compliant, like you. Of course, I’d never get anything I wanted. Like you.”

The barbs might hurt if Elyse wasn’t used to them. “Maybe he won’t use the glamour. He sounded doubtful.” But she knew better.

“He’ll use it,” Lourdes said. “He’s a man.”

“Maybe Diantha is horrible.”

“She’s a princess, Elyse. All the circumstances in her life conspire to make her the opposite of horrible.”

“I wonder if that’s where he’s gone then.” Elyse couldn’t resist saying it. “To look at Diantha.”

Lourdes darkened. “Gone?” She raced out of the kitchen through a shimmer of pastel lights as she crossed the now-disabled boundary.