Dragonoak: The Complete History of Kastelir (42 page)

She knitted her fingers together, tilting her head forward. Her chin bumped against her knuckles and I knew that no matter what I told her, she'd never stop thinking of herself in such cold, clear-cut terms.

“What happened?” I asked. She wanted to talk, I knew it, and I didn't want to give her reason to stop. “What did you do when you found out?”

“I accepted. I told King Garland I was honoured he had chosen me, and that I would serve the realm faithfully. And I did, for a time. Five months. I lasted five months, trying to claw at what information I could. But my initiation was slow. I barely learnt more than I'd been told that first day, and my duties as a Knight continued. The far-off succession was not yet official, and for a time, things were almost normal. Or at the very least, routine.

“But the last time I was sent to slay a dragon, I looked at it. I truly looked at it, not allowing myself to be blinded by anger, desperate to seek vengeance for the lives that had been stolen. I looked at the dragon and I saw that it was scared. Confused. It barely knew what it was doing, yet I slayed it regardless.

“I put my sword through its lower jaw and I ran. I fled, like a coward, into the war-torn arms of Kastelir, barely forming a plan as I went.”

Placing the helm by my side, I got to my feet and stood between Claire's knees. With my hands on her shoulders, I met her gaze, aching to say something that would bring her the slightest jot of relief. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, pulling her close, and with the hay bale as low as it was, she buried her face against my stomach.

“You're not a coward, Claire. I used to be scared of
pane
, remember? Now that's cowardly. But you, you've been brave through all of this—against bandits and Knights, across a foreign country. Even when you were hurt, you were still brave,” I murmured, hoping she felt my words more than she heard them. “More than that, though, you've given up so much. Don't you realise what you just told me? You were going to be
Queen
, Claire. The Queen of Felheim! And you gave that up, because you knew what they were doing wasn't right. You might've betrayed the King, but he's just one man. He isn't the country. Isn't the people. You haven't betrayed Felheim. You're fighting for it, even now.”

Her arms tightened around me and I let my fingers trail through the tips of her hair. All that mattered was that I had
Claire
close, not some future Queen.

“You're sweet,” she mumbled into my shirt. “And I am tired. So very tired of all this, Rowan. There are always dragons, no matter where I go, and I find myself wishing that Rylan had been chosen; I believe he would've dealt with this far better than I.”

I made no reply, letting her voice her thoughts out loud. I was grateful, in a way, that it'd taken me this long to learn the truth. She wouldn't have opened herself up to me like this weeks ago, even if she was having to pry the words from between her teeth.

I had no intention of moving from that spot until she let go of me, and her grasp remained tight around my waist. I tilted my head forward, kissing her hairline, knowing I should've given her the time she needed to turn over her thoughts. But knowing did nothing to stop the questions from churning inside of me.

“Claire... what you said about necromancers,” I started, hoping it would be enough.

“I know nothing more than what I told the Kings and Queen Kidira,” she said, looking up at me. “I did not wish to tell them that much. I learnt nothing more—whatever methods are being employed, I cannot fathom a guess at. All I was told was that there was a necromancer, or necromancers.”

I nodded, trusting her. In the time of the Necromancy War, Kondo-Kana and the other necromancers had used their powers to raise long-dead pane and dragons, and manipulated them that way; had the dragons been dead, Claire would've noticed. There had to be something else to it.

“Is that why you agreed to bring me along?”

“No. Yes—perhaps,” Claire said, taking a moment to reflect on the question. “That night, you were a nuisance. You were hardly the first to try following me, but you were the first to brazenly admit to being a necromancer. No doubt word would spread further than the cluster of villages in the south and eventually reach Thule; I did not know what King Garland would do with the knowledge, but I do know that necromancers are beyond rare. You are the first I have ever knowingly met. I expected you to follow me for a time, and ultimately take up residence in Praxis or Benkor, somewhere of the like.

“I had planned to leave you with no small amount of gold, believing that you would be safe there, should the King send scouts to track you down.”

For the first time in my life, I was grateful for my necromancy. I had risen the dead, given people life anew, but this was the first time that a slow trickle of guilt didn't crawl through my veins.

I brushed Claire's hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ears.

“Should the worse happen, know that I will not let them take you, Rowan,” she said firmly, eyes losing the tired haze that had claimed them.

“They have an army,” I pointed out.

“What of it? I have slain dragons; people in plate armour present me with no cause for concern.”

“They have Akela.”

“—then perhaps we shall run all the way across the border.”

I laughed and Claire's arms dropped from around my waist, any disappointment negated when her hands found my hips. She was not yet smiling, but her face had softened, and there was nothing in the world I wanted to think about, other than the fact that she
meant
what she'd just said so deeply that nothing could've given me reason to doubt her.

I thought I might have the courage to bow my head and kiss her, but the sound of boots against the stone floor caused me to move faster than I ever had in my life.

Akela hadn't claimed the nap she deserved. She marched into the stables, axe at her hip, and she was so far from smiling that it was like looking at a stranger. There were guards behind her, half a dozen of them, and though they didn't have their weapons drawn, their fingers were twitching with anticipation.

“Northwood. Ightham. You are here all along, yes?”

Her eyes fixed on Claire. Barely any time had passed since she'd last seen me, and it was Claire who was really drawing her suspicion.

“We have,” Claire answered, not rising to her feet.

“I will give you this chance, because I am liking you both. And I am thinking you are both very smart, yes? You are coming with me, and you are not saying a word,” Akela said, “We are going inside the castle, and we are talking. Understand?”

I nodded my head more than I needed to, but Claire chose to push her luck.

“We're talking now, aren't we? Call off your guards, take a seat, and we can have all the conversation you desire. As you might well have noticed, neither of us are armed. You have us at a disadvantage.”

“I am not asking again, Ightham,” Akela said, and the guards stepped forward in unison.

Only then did Claire stand, putting a hand out in front of me, drawing the guards' attention towards herself. Charley whinnied, earning grunts from other horses, and Calais tried to move towards Claire, causing the door of his pen to rattle. One of the guards turned towards him, but Claire raised her hand, making him obediently back down.

“Tell me, Akela,” Claire said in a low, even voice, stepping towards her. “Whatever misunderstanding has arisen, I assure you, we can clear it up between the three of us. There is no need for this.”

Finally pushed far enough, I caught Akela's eye and realised it wasn't anger burning there. It was something else, something familiar; something I'd seen time and time again in the apothecary’s, when I hadn't been allowed to act quickly enough.

“King Jonas, he is murdered,” Akela hissed through grit teeth, “And you are coming with me, Ightham.”

CHAPTER XVIII

Akela punctuated each sentence by crashing her fists against the table in front of us, causing me to start in my seat every time. Claire didn't blink, let alone flinch. She was convinced of her own innocence, and felt no need to prove it to anyone. She answered all of Akela's questions as briefly as she could, arms folded across her chest as she leant back in her chair.

The room Akela had taken us to was the least welcoming one in the castle. The low ceiling made her seem taller and closer, and the window, despite barely being big enough to look out of, had an iron bar running through the centre. The one table in the room slanted to the side, and the chairs we sat on were less comfortable than the bare stone floor beneath us.

“Ightham, you are stopping this. No more saying
yes
or
no.
I am needing you to
explain
things,” Akela said, so frustrated that I didn't understand how Claire hadn't found herself locked in a cell, key thrown into the moat.

“I should hardly think you need me to repeat myself
again
,” Claire said, looking up at Akela indignantly. “I've told you all you've requested. Must we go over it again? Do you really believe Rowan or I murdered your King? You –
we –
ought to be out there, aiding with the investigation.”

“
No—
” Both of Akela's hands slammed flat against the table, causing it to rattle on uneven legs. She leant forward, baring her teeth at Claire. “I am not thinking that you are responsible, or that Northwood is capable of doing such a thing. But you are both from Felheim, yes? You are outsiders. The only ones in the castle! Queen Kidira, she is asking me to question you, and she is
not
asking me to be as patient or restrained as I am. But I am liking you both, yes? And if I am clearing you, then Queen Kidira, I know that she is trusting me. This is okay, Ightham?”

If it were up to me, we would've poured out every ounce of information Akela could possibly need, but Claire realised that it still wouldn't be enough. Akela was shaken. She'd lost one of her Kings, a man she'd worked closely with for a decade, and instead of mourning, there she was, interrogating us. Her questions had not been kind, but I didn't hold them against her.

“For the last time, Commander: Rowan was not out of your sight for more than half an hour. The stable-hands saw her enter, and they neither saw her leave nor re-enter, before you came to take us away. As for myself, I was with the Kings until an hour prior, and the stable-hands can corroborate the fact that I did not once leave,” Claire said, finally giving Akela an inch. “There is but one way out of the stables, and no shortage of guards, nobles and servants in the surrounding area. We would've been seen. What's more, if one of us was responsible, we would've had to change our clothing.”

Akela's fingers curled, nails scraping across the tabletop.

“But—”

She didn't want it to be us, nor did she want to take an easy way out; she simply wanted to know who had assassinated King Jonas, and I could sympathise with that.

Exhaling sharply, Claire stood up. Akela moved in a flash, reaching for the axe hanging from her belt, but Claire held her hands in front of her, reminding Akela that she was no threat; she was unarmed. We'd been searched for blades before had Akela sent the guards out of the room.

Akela didn't move her hand from her hip. Nor did she wrap her fingers around her axe. Slowly, Claire placed a hand on her shoulder, gripping it tightly.

“We will find who is responsible, Akela. Make no mistake of that. But you
are
wasting your time here,” Claire said firmly. “I have dealt with assassinations in the past. I was a bodyguard before I was a Knight, and a soldier before that. Let me help. Tell Queen Kidira that we pose no threat to her.”

Akela's gaze darted across the room, focus as scattered as her thoughts. She was on the verge of saying something when the door thundered open. It'd been locked from the outside, and the latch scraped against metal as it was near-enough knocked off its hinges.

Akela had been about to agree with Claire, but all that was forgotten.

“I am saying we are
not
to be disturbed,” she snapped, ready to draw her axe, but Kouris ducked through the doorway. Her horns scraped against the ceiling though her back was arched.

“... ah.”

Akela's hands bundled into fists and she tilted her chin upwards, meeting Kouris' gaze.

“Out,” Kouris said. “It wasn't them.”

“Queen Kidira, she is ordering me to—”

“
Out
! I am ordering you as Queen Kouris to
get out
,” Kouris roared, stomping towards Akela. I'd little doubt that Akela had never come closer to flinching in her life. “If Kidira's having a problem with that, tell her to come speak with me herself.”

Whether Akela recognised Kouris' authority or not was beyond the point; she was no fool. Stepping back, she held Kouris' gaze for longer than most would, wanting to believe that she was right. We were innocent, and she'd done all she could to ensure that. She wasn't letting murderers walk free. With a curt bow of her head, Akela left the room. The door rattled in its frame behind her, left unlocked.

None of us spoke, but something other than silence pooled between us. I could see Kouris trembling, could hear her ragged breathing, and beyond the chamber with its steel-plated door, I could
feel
the rush of death swarming through the corridors, creating a trail from King Jonas' body, reaching out to me. How close did I need to be? My head was pounding, dragging me out of the room, out of reality, and I tried to run my fingers through the mist choking the castle without moving an inch.

Kouris stopped me from drifting too far. Her voiceless ache became a growl, and she threw her fists against the wall, horns scraping against stone as she tried to bring the whole castle down. Claire reacted faster than I could. Kouris' stature was never more evident than when she couldn't keep herself still, but Claire was far from concerned for her own safety.

She seized hold of Kouris' arm, fist on its way to the wall, and Kouris snarled, trying to throw her off. Grip tight, Claire pulled Kouris towards her and forced her to bow, putting them at the same level. They stared at one another, and Claire held Kouris' gaze, in spite of all the fangs bared at her.