Authors: Kate Sparkes
Are you certain of that?
whispered a dark voice in my mind.
Certain enough to stake the fate of a nation and your own survival on it? Are you sure loving her and wanting to protect her hasn’t made you weak?
I shook the thought away.
I had several options. We could leave and abandon Ulric to whatever fate he’d chosen by driving us away, but then Severn would win. I didn’t know what was wrong with my father or his magic, but it had to be serious to shake his confidence in his power. He seemed desperate now, and not entirely rational. He couldn’t win this fight in that state.
Or I could listen to him, trust that the man knew what he was talking about after his long life and great losses, and break Rowan’s heart as well as my own for the sake of Tyrea’s future. I could resign myself to the same fate as him, cold and lonely, chained to the throne, a powerful slave.
Or I had a third option. Rowan and I could separate to keep Ulric happy, to appease whatever it was in his mind that made him so mistrustful of her and uncertain of his own future, just until the winds shifted. I would earn his trust and find out exactly what was wrong with him. Rowan would prove that she was no traitor, and she would help us win the battle. Nox would find a way to heal whatever was wrong with our father, and we would see him back on the throne.
And then Rowan and I would leave all of it behind forever.
It was the only sane solution. Surely she’d understand that.
“
A
RE YOU CRAZY
?” Rowan asked, managing somehow to whisper and yell all at once.
I’d pulled her out of the kitchen and told her we needed to separate. Given her reaction to the news of my father’s order, I decided our little tent might be a better place for further discussion. I didn’t answer, but led her toward something resembling privacy.
“I just got you back,” she continued as she followed me in.
“It’s temporary.”
“It’s ridiculous.”
I turned to find her standing with her arms crossed, blocking the door. I gathered the few belongings that weren’t still stuffed in my bag, hoisted the pack onto my shoulders, and waited. She didn’t move.
I sighed. “What else would you have me do?” I’d told her what Ulric wanted, though not everything he’d said about her and threatened her with. It seemed too hurtful, too ridiculous to mention.
It’s not a lie,
I told myself.
It’s simply not important. And it’s not because there’s any chance he may be right.
I silently cursed my father. He was wrong, but I couldn’t forget his warnings.
She sat on the bed. I sensed taking my chance to leave and avoid this conversation would be a bad idea in the long term, and I sat beside her on the hard edge.
Rowan rubbed her fingers over her forehead in a gesture I was familiar with from the days when headaches plagued her. She looked at me, apparently choosing her words carefully. “Are you sure this is the best thing to do? You say he called you a coward. Is rolling over like this going to earn you his respect?”
My entire body tensed. “You think the same of me as he does?” The faint suggestion from her stung a thousand times worse than the outright insult from my father.
She held up her hands in surrender and leaned back. “I didn’t say that. It’s just...” She shrugged. “This seems wrong. After standing up to Severn the way you did, after how hard you’ve fought for us to be together, and with you wanting to earn your father’s respect, I just don’t understand this. How does us hiding help anything?”
I forced my jaw to unclench, my shoulders to relax. “It’s complicated with him. He says I need to prove myself, but I don’t think that’s what he really wants. I’m not the only one who’s changed since he disappeared. He’s afraid, and I’ve never seen him scared before.”
“Of what?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I think he’s afraid he’s lost the support of his people, and that taking the throne back may be impossible. That may be part of the reason we’re staying here—he needs to know his people still want him. But there’s far more to it, and that’s what he’s keeping secret. He needs to see that I respect him and will obey him, and that will help me earn his trust. Or at least I might get close enough to figure it out myself. I already have an idea.” I almost told her about my suspicions of his magical weakness, but held back.
Damn him.
She reached for my hand. “And if you disobey him now?”
I closed my eyes and tried to picture the logical progression of events, given my suspicions about my father. “He can’t defeat Severn without me. So he fails, and Severn hunts us down. That, or I challenge him myself.”
“Putting us right back where we were before you got your father back.” She squeezed my fingers tight in hers. “So I pretend to lose you for a while, or I risk losing you forever?”
“There’s a risk of loss either way. Nothing about this is certain.” I tried not to consider my odds of survival if I challenged the person who had shaped my talents, who knew most of my strengths and all of my weaknesses and could turn them against me with barely a thought.
She watched me carefully, obviously reading more on my face than I’d intended to show.
“I know,” she said. “That’s why I wish I could at least have you safe by my side every night.” She straightened her shoulders and brushed her hair back from her face, then forced a smile. “Maybe once things calm down, Ulric will realize I’m not the worst thing that could happen to you.” The smile faltered. “Is that the problem? Did he even trouble himself to explain why he doesn’t want us together? Why he hates me now? Why he doesn’t seem to want to use or develop my skills?”
My stomach sank at the hurt and uncertainty in her eyes. I wouldn’t make it worse, but we’d need to talk about at least part of it. “He has questions about your loyalty, given your past.”
Her lips narrowed into a tight line, and she nodded for me to go on.
“Even without that, there’s the question of succession. He thinks I’m planning to take the throne after him. I think I’ve explained to you his thoughts on love.”
“You have.”
“Right. So he’s troubled by that, and thinks he’s saving me from myself.” I hesitated to go on, but remembered that I’d promised not to lie to her. “But he’s more concerned with the fact that a king can’t legally marry a Sorceress.”
Her brow creased. “You told me that once, didn’t you? That night when I took too much heartleaf. I remembered that Sorcerers and Sorceresses aren’t able to have children together, but I’d forgotten about your father having to marry women without magic of their own.”
“That law has nothing to do with me if I’m not going to be king,” I said. “And I’m not. I tried to correct him on that point, but he wouldn’t listen.”
She nodded, but her skin had gone pale, making the faint freckles on her nose stand out. “You’re sure about that?”
“As sure as I am about anything. I never expected it. Never wanted it. I’ve worked too hard to get away from that life to want to go back to it.”
She twisted her hair between her fingers, lost in thought. “You don’t think we could at least clear up the misunderstanding about my loyalties? He’s wrong.”
“I know. And I tried. He seems unusually on edge about everything right now. I’m probably fortunate he’s still trusting me, at least to some extent. So I think it’s best for now that we play along, let him think he’s getting what he wants, give him time to cool down.”
Her dark gray eyes searched mine, and she seemed satisfied with what she found. “That’s that, then.” She nodded to herself. “Make him happy so we can finish this and you can get away from him. Please.”
“So you’ll release me?” I tried to ask with good humor, but the attempt fell flat.
She gave me a wry smile that faded as voices approached the tent. “We’ll need to make it convincing, won’t we?”
“Unfortunately, yes. It’s not a game to him. No one can know how desperate I already am to be with you again.” I could only imagine his anger if he learned I’d deceived him.
“Likewise.” She jumped to her feet and pointed at the door as the voices came nearer. “Go, then,” she ordered, raising her voice. “If that’s all I mean to you, I don’t want you here anyway.” The voices stopped, and footsteps hurried away.
I got to my feet and shuffled past her, reminding myself that she was acting. For some reason, the words still bit into me.
“Too much,” I whispered. “But good effort.”
She stood on her toes and pulled me into a kiss that was over almost before I realized it was happening. “I love you,” she whispered. “Be careful. I don’t trust your father.”
“Nor do I. As soon as this is over—”
She touched a finger to my lips. “Don’t talk about that. Worry about now, and we’ll deal with later when we get to it.” She rubbed her fingers over her dragon scale necklace and sighed. “You’d better get out of here before anyone wonders about the long goodbye.”
I wanted to promise her something, but that was unnecessary. We would be together again when it was safe.
I turned and left without another word and went to find my new place next to my father.
7
NOX
T
he afternoon sun turned Mama Bunn’s little cabin into an oven, but I kept on with my work. I had just finished cataloguing the last of her unidentified plants when a knock sounded at the window. I rearranged my sweaty hair and hurried over expecting Kel, who had been banished that morning after Mama deemed him an ongoing distraction. Instead I found Aren, looking concerned.
“Is this about your hand?” I asked. “She’ll let you in the front door for that.”
He held it up and wiggled his fingers. He’d removed the bandage already, and the skin was barely pinker than normal. “Can we talk now? I don’t know how long I have before Ulric wants me back.”
I listened for the sound of Mama’s snores coming from the other room. The old woman napped as hard as she worked. It was almost admirable, in a way.
“I’ll try,” I said. “Can’t promise anything.”
I left my work and crept through the outer room, eased the front door open, and winced as the rusted hinge squeaked a protest. Mama snorted and twitched in her chair, but didn’t wake. I slipped out onto the porch and motioned for Aren to join me well away from the cabin.
I breathed in the cool breeze that lifted my hair off my hot neck and took in the sight of the forest, a relief after hours within the walls of the stuffy cabin. There was still life in these woods in spite of the drought. Not much that would help me or Mama Bunn in our work, but that would come with rain and the growing season.
“What’s the fuss about?” I asked.
“The old man.” Neither of us liked to call Ulric our father, though Aren was more comfortable with the idea than I. I’d as good as dismissed him from my life as soon as I’d learned how he’d banished me and my mother to Cressia, the barren dragon-lands of the north. I was glad to be helping him depose Severn, but aside from his potential in that area I wasn’t impressed with the man so far. I’d expected a raging tyrant who would stop at nothing to reclaim his throne as soon as possible. Instead we sat in a rebel camp. Hiding.
At least he was leaving me alone.
Rumors traveled fast in this community, even when one was practically a slave to the local Potioner, and I’d heard all about Aren and Rowan’s spat. “Do you need a hand moving your things? Someone said you looked angry, and that she sounded madder than a wet cat. I assume this was Ulric’s doing and not just Rowan kicking you out.”
He scowled. “I’ve already got my things moved. Rowan wasn’t happy about it, but...” A look of distress came over him and was quickly smoothed away. “That’s not what I wanted to speak to you about. Ulric is having problems with his magic.”
I’d been watching a robin in the branches behind him—we saw so little wildlife near the camp—but snapped my attention back at his words. “Explain.”
“You saw how I almost lost my magic back in Darmid. He was imprisoned there for three years, with them doing gods only know what to his magic to keep him controlled. There’s something wrong with him now. He’s weak.” He held up his burned hand. “This wouldn’t have happened if he’d been helping me control that fire.”
“You mentioned that.” I held back the scowl that threatened to twist my face. “He was all too happy to take credit for saving the camp though, wasn’t he? Seemed to be enjoying all of the glory when we left.”
Aren shrugged, obviously not concerned with being applauded for his work. In that we couldn’t have been more different. I craved recognition. Always had. I was proud of my skills and wanted everyone to know my abilities. Part of my anger at Severn was the fact that he’d stolen that from me. In Luid I’d have learned to be one of the great ones, would have accomplished so much. But now—
“Nox?”
“Sorry, what?”
“You’ve got that distant, angry look again. Did you have any thoughts that might help Ulric? Because if he’s weak, I’ll have to...” His already pale skin went ashen. “It’ll be up to me.”
“Right. Does he know you know?”
“The less he thinks I know, the better. He already seems defensive and mistrustful.”
“I understand. That doesn’t get us many answers, though.” I leaned against a maple tree while I sorted through my thoughts. “I’ll give it some thought, but I don’t know what I can do to help you right now.” I gestured to the woods. “Even if it weren’t so barren here, it’s only spring. There are grasses and roots, but I’d need mature, powerful, possibly rare plants to come up with something to get him better, assuming you could find out what was wrong. And the equipment here isn’t exactly what I’d need to work with, either.”
“I thought as much.” He frowned. “Laelana mentioned her grandfather earlier. She said he was able to work with plants, make them grow. Someone like that would be helpful, wouldn’t he?”
I perked up. “Is he available? Gods, that would be perfect. If someone could speed up the—”
“He’s dead.”
I blew a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Helpful in theory, but definitely not in practice.”