Green Wild (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 2) (31 page)

T
IANA SAT
IN the chamber the chatelaine of Sunasin found for her, looking blindly at some books left on a table. It was a quiet room, with burgundy drapes and local watercolors on the walls, where she could think about what happened and let the last dregs of adrenalin evaporate into the ashes of grief.

Lisette promised to join her soon, after she debriefed the Count of Sunasin. Kiar and Minex had vanished as soon as they arrived in the courtyard of the castle. The men were all busy with the rescuing soldiers, even Cathay, and Tiana sat alone, as instructed, like a good girl.

They’d treated her like fine porcelain on the ride to the Sunasin seat. “He was bound to her mind,” Kiar had said to Jozua impatiently, as if Tiana couldn’t hear her. “Who knows what the damage could be?” Tiana knew. She felt the emptiness in her thoughts, and the sobs she couldn’t surrender to.

A servant silently brought a tea tray in and set it on the table. Tiana watched her numbly. As the maid turned to leave, Tiana said, “Wait.”

“Ma’am? Your Highness? Ma’am?” The maid stumbled over her words, unused to addressing the Blood.

Tiana wondered if the maid would obey if she told her to wait in the room in her stead. The maid had other work to do, of course, but Tiana was her Princess. Did that mean anything here? They brought her tea, but not a change of clothes.

Instead, she said, “Go find Lisette, my Regent. Tell her I’m... tell her I’m not here. Tell her I’m somewhere.”

“Where?” asked the maid uncertainly.

“Not here. Not waiting. I’m not waiting. I’m not going to sit and wait, or go and go because somebody else says I should.” Tiana stood briskly and brushed her filthy, blood-soaked riding dress off, as if she could brush away the obligations that held her.

The maid gaped at her, then backed out of the room. She spoke to somebody beyond, and Tiana followed her to see Berrin leaning beside the door, his arm in a sling.

“You make me feel like a prisoner,” she told him. “Am I under arrest? Did I do something wrong? Yes, of course I did. People died. Jinriki died.” Her voice caught in her throat.

“Princess,” said Berrin roughly. “You did nothing wrong. I didn’t want you to be completely alone now, and...” he glanced down at his arm. “And I’m not sure what else I’m good for now.”

“I’m sorry,” she told him. It didn’t seem like enough but what else could she say. “Do you know where Lisette is?”

Berrin looked away. “With Jozua, I think.”

Her heart leapt into her throat. “Is he... is he also injured?”

“No,” said Berrin neutrally. “No, he isn’t injured at all. Luck favors him.”

“Rann. It’s Rann who favors him.” Tiana shook her head. “Thank you... thank you for all you’ve done for me, Berrin. But I have to get out of this room. I have to not be their wind-up princess, stored on a shelf. Just for a while.”

Berrin regarded her for a long moment before saying, “I’ll rest here,” and leaned back against the wall again.

Tiana gave him a grateful nod and hurried away down the stone-flagged hall.

She wandered for a while, avoiding people, until she found her way to the stables. Nobody accosted her along the way. The buildings for the horses were as large as the Palace stables in Lor Seleni and right then, far busier as horses were shuffled between stall to pasture and stable yard to stall. Tiana found a corner and watched the traffic, her throat tight. Her horse Moon had been one of the horses killed in the battle. She’d ridden to Sunasin on a soldier’s mount that had lost its rider; she didn’t even remember what color it had been.

The stable girls hurried by and the quiet one cast an eye over Tiana as they did. Then she tugged on her companion and they stopped.

The loud stable girl glared at Tiana, and demanded, “”What do you want?”

Tiana’s cheek stung briefly in memory of the slap the girl had delivered. She shook her head. She hadn’t come here with any clear intent and she didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry about Moon,” said the quiet stable girl. “Would you like to see Spooky and Dustling?”

Silently, Tiana nodded. The stable girls turned, both of them, and led her through the stables like they’d known them all their lives. Dustling and Spooky had been stabled beside each other, and they whickered at seeing familiar faces. Tiana went to first Dustling, Lisette’s mare, then Spooky, patting their noses. The stable girls lingered, watching her. The loud one acted like she might run off with one of the horses as soon as they turned their backs.

After a moment of whispering nothings to Spooky, Tiana turned around, her back against the stall door. “What are your names? I think I was told once, but I’ve forgotten. I’m sorry.”

The quiet stable girl smiled at Tiana. “I’m Nori.” After a moment, she elbowed her companion.

“I’m Stefi,” the loud stable girl muttered, still looking like Tiana’s very existence in the stable was an affront.

“I’m Tiana,” She wasn’t sure she’d ever introduced herself so casually before. “Um. Thank you for waking me up back there, Stefi.”

Stefi’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

Uncertainly Tiana said, “Yes? Thank you. I couldn’t hear Jinr—” and her throat closed up. She swallowed hard. “I couldn’t hear anybody else. You got through to me. You saved lives.”

To Tiana’s surprise, the loud stable girl—Stefi—turned bright red. “Ah, well, it was no big deal. You ever need to be smacked upside the head again, I’m your girl. No tip needed.”

Nori covered her mouth, aghast and laughing. “Stefi!”

“She thanked me, Nori! What am I supposed to say?”

Tiana summoned up a small smile for both of them, then turned back to the stall, leaning her head against a post. She was so tired suddenly. But if she slept, she’d have dreams of the guards who died, of the emptiness in her head.

Instead she left the stable to its business. She made her way through the stable yards to the military buildings. Soldiers filled the yards: relaxing against walls, dealing with equipment, sharing information. They didn’t ignore her arrival as the stables had. First one group, then another turned to look at her. In the stable she’d been just another human, far less important than the horses; here she was a weapon, and soldiers always paid attention to weapons.

Cathay appeared out of a group of knights, many with the roses on their shoulders. “Stormy,” he greeted her soberly. “I was just thinking about—” and he caught her hand and pulled her around the corner of a building, out of sight of the soldiers. Then he looked at her face, as if memorizing every inch of it.

“What?” she said. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She held his hand between both of hers, feeling the warmth.

“Because I can,” he said bleakly. “Kiar’s looking for you, though.”

Tiana shook her head at the nonsensical answer. “How are you?”

“Making plans. Stormy—” He put a finger under her chin. “I want to kiss you now. While I still can.”

Bewildered but willing—now, after so much—she leaned forward.

He quirked a familiar grin at her before his mouth closed over hers.

It was something out of storybooks, just this once. Cathay knew exactly what to do. He turned her so the wall supported her, then proceeded to kiss her until her knees buckled. She clung to him feverishly, so he held her up and kissed her some more until she was a hot, panting mess, ready to do whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted.

“Finally,” said Kiar nearby, and the ice of her voice cut through the heat.

Tiana remembered Kiar and Twist kissing, and how she’d broken that moment. Shame flooded through her. Frantically, she pushed Cathay away.

Instantly he put her down and stepped back, maintaining his hold on her shoulder to steady her. He threw an inscrutable look at Kiar, standing nearby, then ignored her as he said, “Stormy—Tiana. I’m leaving soon. I’m going to ride out with some of the Knights of the Rose to do what we can against Ohedreton’s army. I’ve spent too much time paying attention only to what I want. But those men today—” He looked at his hand. “They died. And some of them were on the other side. I can’t help but wonder if that would have happened if I had... chosen differently, weeks ago. If I had paid attention to something other than what I wanted, no matter how much I wanted it.”

Tiana blinked at him, trying to focus on what he said instead of the looming, awful presence of Kiar standing nearby with her angry, scornful expression. She took a deep breath. “When?”

“Soon. They have a camp nearby so I’ll be riding over with a few of them before sunset.” His black-brown eyes locked with hers. “I’ll be thinking about you every hour. I can change how I act, but not how I feel. So take care of yourself.”

“Wait—you mean you’re saying goodbye
now
?” Tiana shook her head, bewildered.

He nodded, and Rann’s red light sparked, deep in his eyes. She opened her mouth to say, “No, you can’t go, I need you—” and she almost did—

But she wasn’t going to simply move as the Firstborn dictated anymore, be their wind-up Princess, no, she
wasn’t
, and she wasn’t going to make Cathay do so either. She couldn’t quite put it into words, but she knew that Cathay was wasted following her around: wasting what he could be to other people and wasting what he could be to himself. Cathay had never followed her out of true love, anymore than she’d done as the Firstborn bid out of duty. They’d both been looking for fairy tales, for dreams, and it was time to wake up. Whatever the spark of red indicated about Cathay’s role in gathering Rann’s light, it wasn’t going to be at her side. He’d made that decision himself and she wasn’t going to undo it with careless words.

“Go, then,” Tiana said. “Do well. Come home again.” Yet because she couldn’t shake off the habits of a lifetime just by wishing, she added, “We’ll be seeing each other again.”

“I hope so,” he said, and kissed her hand. When he turned to Kiar, he said, “Will you stay with her?”

Kiar looked up at the sky, as if it was easier to talk to the clouds. “Yes.” She shook her head, but said again, “Yes.”

Cathay nodded, and then he was gone, back around the corner, leaving Tiana alone with Kiar.

“Kiar, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” said Kiar curtly. “Look at what I accomplished. Come on.”

Tiana almost resisted, almost pushed back. She wasn’t going to be a wind-up Princess anymore, after all. But Kiar was her cousin, and her friend, and Tiana had hurt her by treating her like a character in a play. Maybe she’d utterly ruined something that could have been wonderful.

So she went with Kiar, docile and brooding, without even asking their destination. Kiar didn’t speak as they went back into the main castle, down a broad corridor and out into a large kitchen garden. A covered shrine stood on the far side, under an ancient plum tree. Old and worn, undedicated shrines like this were used by the kitchen staff to beg attention from whichever Firstborn they required.

Within the shrine knelt Minex, her hands held close to her heart again. Tiana stopped. She didn’t want Minex, didn’t want Minex’s stories and experiments.

Kiar grabbed her arm and hauled her forward. “We’re not doing this without you, in case he reacts poorly.”

“Doing what?” Tiana demanded.

Lisette knelt inside the shrine as well. “Oh! You found her.”

Kiar eyed Tiana, then sighed. “We’re going to save Jinriki, Tiana. Minex did capture
something
. I can see it in the Logos. She says that with our help, mine and Lisette’s, she can save him.”

Lisette held up her glowing arm. “I’d rather use it to save people than kill them.” The glow had eaten more of her arm, and Lisette looked pale and sad.

“I thought you were talking to the Sunasin with Jozua,” she said, subdued.

“Yes. But Minex found me and said this was more important.”

“She’s lying, she plays tricks, she can’t even tell what’s real—” Tiana said, too afraid to hope.

Kiar squeezed her arm. “Look at me, Tiana. She did catch something. I don’t play tricks. And we need to help her or what she’s got will slip away.”

Minex said brightly, “Not now. But I am getting a little sleepy, and if I sleep, we both turn into dreams.”

Kiar let go of Tiana. “Stay or go. If you stay, sit by the door.” Then she and Lisette joined Minex, kneeling down with her to form three points on a triangle. Minex carefully put the invisible thing she’d been cuddling close into the center of the triangle, then took the hands of the human girls.

“I will sing a song,” Minex whispered. “I will show you a vision. The two of you will do your beautiful magic to make my song real. He will not be the Great Prince anymore in body, oh no. He becomes my brother. The earth loves the sons of the sky and she will adopt the Great Prince. Isn’t that nice?” Minex beamed.

Tiana didn’t understand, but Kiar’s eyes widened. “He’ll be an earth fiend?”

“My brother, yes. But he will still be the Great Prince in his heart. He will still have the memories, the dreams.”

Lisette caught her breath. “Oh.” She glanced toward Tiana, then back at Minex. “All right. Please sing us your song, Minex. I’m ready.”

Kiar nodded, and Minex began to sing. It was a lovely song, and completely incomprehensible to Tiana. Whatever vision it showed Kiar remained invisible, too. After a moment Kiar began to speak to the Logos. Her voice sounded soft and measured, as if she coaxed a small animal from a burrow. After a moment the two voices twined around each other perfectly, like they were producing the same piece of music. It was beautiful and sad and it seemed to go on forever.

Tiana put her head on her knees and stared out the archway she sat beside, watching the afternoon slowly turn into evening. Every time she glanced at the working, more of Lisette’s arm had transfigured to light, and nothing else had changed.

At last, she blinked, and realized full night had fallen. Berrin stood at the garden door with Slater. Lanterns glowed around the garden and the stable girls—Nori and Stefi—sat on a bench eating winter peas. Twist stood in the far corner of the shrine, his eyes fixed on Kiar.

Kiar’s voice scratched hoarsely. Tiana looked despite herself, then inhaled sharply. This time, something was different. A dark mist moved at the center of the triangle, staying within the points but spinning—