The Will of the Empress - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,137

me to go away, then I have to stay here."

Tris propped her hands on her hips. "In case you haven't noticed, and it seems you haven't, I'm the one who's been looking after you lately — well, Briar and I. We're the ones who said you were going to Winding Circle." With dreadful patience she continued: "To go there, you have to leave here. If I have to show you the kind of fire I handle, Asaia witness it, you'll be too scared to think. And since you're not doing so well at thinking right now, maybe that's for the best. You forget about Daja's fire and worry about mine."

Zhegorz looked up at her, his eyes haggard. "You're confusing me. I only know Viymese Daja says I can't be around her. She's going, so I can't."

Tris turned on her heel, ready to do battle. "Gods save me from madmen and their notions," she muttered. "As if my temper hasn't been tried enough lately." She stalked down the gallery to Daja's room and knocked, then turned the doorknob. The door was locked. "Daja!" she cried, letting a wind carry the call through the keyhole so she wouldn't startle the household.

"Go away!" a harsh voice shouted in reply. "I don't want to talk to anyone!"

You don't get off that easily, thought Tris.

She went to the bay at the end of the gallery and opened the windows. As far as she could tell, no one on this floor had taken advantage of the narrow terrace that wrapped around the building on this level. Tris knew it was there because she had looked down on it during her time in the house. Now it gave her a second way to get to Daja, one that Tris was irritable enough to use. Whatever mood she's in, she had no right to upset Zhegorz, thought Tris angrily. Daja of all people should know how fragile our crazy man is!

Walking past the long sets of windows that formed doors into the rooms beyond, Tris reached the pair that would open into Daja's room. They were unlocked. She yanked one open and walked into Daja's sitting room. "Daja, I want a word with you!"

A silver goblet flew at her head from the shadows. Tris ducked out of the way. She knew a warning shot when she saw one. Preparing for a flying piece of metal that would hit her, she twirled on one foot. The still breezes that were as much a part of her clothing as her shift twirled hard around her and continued to twirl. They made an airy shield that would knock the next missile aside.

Daja's power shone from the bedroom. Determined, Tris went to the door. "If you were just going to be a brute to me, I would have stood for it, because when itch comes right down to scratch, you Traders don't know how to act," she said cruelly. Tris knew from early experience that sharpness spurred Daja harder than kindness. "But you had no right to frighten poor old Zhegorz out of what wits he's got. You're some kind of talisman for him, and when you tell him to go away, he thinks it means he can't travel with us. Now you get off your behind and go tell him you wouldn't think of leaving him!"

"Later!" Daja cried. She lay in bed on her belly, raising her face from her pillows to talk. "I'll talk to him later, Tris, and I won't talk to you at all right now, so go away! And insulting my Trader blood won't work, either, you rat-nosed, pinch-coin, gold-grubbing merchant."

Tris was about to blister the other girl when she caught the ragged tones in Daja's voice. With a frown she walked over and plumped herself on the bed, reining in her whirling breezes until they were still again. Daja turned her face away from Tris too slowly.

"Oh, dear," Tris said, understanding. Daja's eyes were puffy and wet. Her nose ran. Tris dug out a handkerchief and stuffed it into Daja's hand. When Daja tried to pull the hand away, Tris grabbed her wrist.

Did you really think she would come? Tris asked through their magic. Give up her own place at court, at the empress's side, to live on your generosity? Rizu's proud, Daja. She has every right to be. As Mistress of the Wardrobe she decides what every guardsman and servant in the palace wears. She chooses the imperial wardrobe. What would she have in Summersea