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Authors: Amy Raby

Prince's Fire (21 page)

BOOK: Prince's Fire
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22

A
fter settling into his new quarters, Rayn headed for his father's room. Already he was annoyed at these new lodgings. The Hibiscus Tower didn't have enough arches and windows, and the air didn't circulate well. If he was ratified as king, perhaps he could fix that—open up a few key passageways to let the air flow. Furthermore, his rooms were on the south side of the grounds and overlooked the island interior instead of the harbor. The view was pleasant, but in his old room on the north side he'd enjoyed being able to watch the ships come and go. It was a simple way of keeping up with the goings-on of his people, since most local trade passed through the Tiasan harbor.

Rayn's father had been moved to the Hibiscus Tower as well. One of his caretakers stood outside the door to his new room.

“Konani,” said Rayn, greeting the man by name, “how is he?”

Konani grimaced. “Not well.”

Rayn lowered his voice. “Were you here when he decided to abdicate the throne?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why do you think he did it?”

“Well,” said Konani, also in a low voice, “I think it was about time, sir. He ought to have done it years ago. He had some discussions with Councilor Worryn, and then he signed the papers.”

“I find it curious that the decision was made while I was out of the country.”

“Ah.” Konani looked uncomfortable. “That is curious.”

“I want to see him,” said Rayn.

“He's not in a good mood,” said Konani.

“Nonetheless.” Rayn gestured for him to step away.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Konani complied.

Rayn went inside.

Zalyo Daryson, former king of Inya, sat by the window, looking out. Rayn, who'd been spindly as a child, now resembled his father in ways that both pleased and worried him. The two men were about the same height and had the same large build and blond hair. Zalyo's hair was fading now, but in an attractive way, almost to a platinum color. Rayn might age similarly, he knew, but that was what frightened him. He did not want to follow his father into madness.

Zalyo spoke without turning around. “Konani, this window isn't right.”

“Excuse me, Father,” said Rayn. “It's Rayn, not Konani.”

Zalyo spun around and looked at him. He blinked twice and furrowed his brow as if deep in thought. “Rayn?”

“Yes, Father. It's me.”

Zalyo's breath quickened, and he raised a shaky hand. “You've come to take my window.”

“No, Father. I've returned from a diplomatic visit to Kjall. I've come to talk to you.”

“You want my window,” said Zalyo. “But you won't have it. Konani! Help!”

Konani entered the room and held out his arms placatingly. “Rayn is not taking anything, sir. He's your son, come to speak to you.”

“It's the wrong window,” said Zalyo. “It's supposed to look out on the harbor, so I can watch for the attack ships.”

“There are no attack ships,” said Rayn gently.

“There are. You don't want me to see them,” said Zalyo. “That's why you changed my window.” He turned to Konani and pointed at Rayn. “It's his fault.
He
took my window.”

Konani's brow wrinkled. “No, sir. The prince wasn't here when it happened. Councilor Worryn is the one who moved you to this room.”

“But he ordered it. The councilor told me.” Zalyo turned to Rayn. “You want to steal my throne. I had to sign those papers to stop you. If I didn't, you'd have let the attack ships come, same as they did in Mosar. I was watching for them. I was watching for the ships, but now the window is wrong and I can't see. How will I know if they're coming?”

Rayn shifted on his feet. He couldn't react to his father with emotion—he'd made that mistake in the past, and it had only worsened the situation. But it was hard to suppress the rage and grief that welled up within him. Councilor Worryn was poisoning his father's mind, addling him further, turning him against his own family members so that he feared to trust the very people who protected and cared for him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, took a deep breath to calm himself, and said, “You're confused, Father. I'm your son, and I'm not trying to steal anything. Those papers you signed were something else.”

“He said you would deny it.” Zalyo wagged his finger at Rayn. “He told me you would. Didn't he?” He turned to Konani.

“Rayn had nothing to do with any of this,” said Konani.

“You weren't in the room,” said Zalyo.

Konani and his mother were right: his father was worse. Maybe it was just the natural progression of his madness, but the change in room might have contributed to his paranoia. Rayn was plenty annoyed at having been moved from his quarters. How did it feel for Zalyo, who'd lived in his old rooms for much longer, and who didn't have a lot of mental reserves to call upon? “You want your window back, the one that overlooks the harbor?”

“I have to watch for the ships,” said Zalyo.

“I'll talk to Councilor Worryn and see what I can do,” said Rayn. “I haven't much influence now, but if I'm ratified—”

“You see?” hissed Zalyo. “He wants to steal my throne. I told you.”

“No, Father.” He glanced helplessly at Konani, who shrugged, looking sad.

“Get out,” said Zalyo. “Get out!”

Rayn left the room, trembling all over.

•   •   •

By the time Rayn had crossed the suspension bridge again and reached the bottom of the spiral staircase, his hands had stopped shaking. He was still furious, and the back of his neck was hot, but he had sufficient control for a confrontation. Councilor Worryn would be, no doubt, on the first-floor hallway of the main gallery, in some of the very rooms from which he'd ousted Rayn and his family.

As Rayn approached the hallway, a pair of guards stepped forward and blocked his way.

Rayn rose to his full height. “You know who I am.”

“Your rooms have been relocated,” said one of the guards, “by council's orders. The council has ruling authority until a new king is ratified.”

“I'm here to talk to Councilor Worryn,” said Rayn.

“He's not available.”

Rayn peered down the hallway. He was certain the councilor was there somewhere. What a coward. “My father, the king, is agitated—”

“Your father is no longer the king,” said the guard.

Rayn sighed heavily. “My father, the former king, is agitated because he's been displaced from his chambers and can no longer see the harbor from his window.”

“Those chambers are reserved for the king.”

“And there is no king at the moment,” said Rayn. “My father just wants to look out his window. If he could just be placed there until ratification, or perhaps in another room that overlooks the harbor—”

“You must take that up with the councilor,” said the guard. “When he's available.”

“And when will he be available?”

“I don't have that information, sir.”

Rayn clenched his fists. “There's something else I need to discuss with him, and it's urgent. I'm told we had a tremor in Tiasa two days ago, and that often precedes a lava flow. There are settlers in the Four Pines valley who need to be evacuated. He needs to issue an emergency order—”

“You'll have to speak to him about it,” said the guard.

“Yes, exactly!” said Rayn. “So let me through.”

“Councilor Worryn isn't available at this time,” said the guard.

•   •   •

More than ever, Rayn wished for Celeste. Justien too. Those two strategists would know how to handle a councilor who abused his father, insulted his family, and didn't have the cods to speak to Rayn in person. He did, at least, have Lornis.

He found Lornis's door, also in the Hibiscus Tower, and knocked.

No one answered.

“Come on, Lornis, I know you're in there.” Lornis left his door open when he was out, so there was no question that the man was at home. Rayn pounded on the door.

The door squeaked open. A man who was not Lornis peered out at Rayn.

“Oh, Magister Donyl.” Rayn held out his hand. “Are you well?”

Donyl clasped his wrist. “I am, thank you, Your Highness. Your adviser's indisposed. He'll be here in a moment.”

“Right.” He should have anticipated this. Magister Donyl was Lornis's longtime lover—of course Lornis would want to see him after such a long absence.

Lornis came to the door, looking flustered. “What is it?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” said Rayn, “but I need your counsel. There's a problem with my father, and I need to evacuate Four Pines because of the tremor. Councilor Worryn won't see me, so I can't get authorization.”

“He won't authorize the evacuation of Four Pines?”

“I can't even get in to see him. So, no.”

Lornis lowered his brows. “Who's the leader here, you or him?”

“He has the official authority,” said Rayn.

Lornis gave him a
look
.

“The law says—”

“He wants you to look weak and ineffective,” said Lornis. “And you're letting him do it. You've opposed him before, and with great success. Forget what's official, for the moment. Who's the leader here, you or him?”

“I am,” said Rayn.

“Exactly,” said Lornis. “Get out there and evacuate Four Pines. Who cares if you have his authorization? Show these people you are prepared to lead them.”

Rayn nodded. Lornis had the right of it, as always.

•   •   •

Rayn rounded up six of his fellow Fireturners. It wasn't the whole group, but a half dozen should be enough. One of them was his cousin Tiannon, whom Rayn trusted implicitly. They wouldn't be fighting a lava flow; they just needed to order the settlers of Four Pines to evacuate. Still, he insisted on everyone wearing their uniforms.

They assembled at the Tiasan Palace stables. Rayn mounted his blood bay stallion and took his place at the head of the group. The other Fireturners trotted in pairs behind him, dressed in their red-and-blacks.

As they entered the streets of Tiasa, civilians turned and stared. Children darted through the crowd to spread the word, and merchants came out of their shops to watch them pass. Some of them chanted: “Rayn! Rayn!”

Tiannon, who rode just behind Rayn, kicked his horse up alongside. “I think you were missed, while you were away in Kjall.”

“I'm glad they didn't forget me,” said Rayn, sitting straighter in his saddle. Lornis was right: it was time for him to step up and lead this country. Inya hadn't known an effective king for years now. His people were desperate for leadership. He would evacuate the settlers from Four Pines. He would protect the King's Lands. He would open trade with Kjall.

Four Pines was well outside Tiasa. After they'd left the city streets, he urged his mount into a canter, then leaned back in the saddle and inhaled deeply. Inya bloomed year-round—not everything at once, but always something was in flower. He'd missed the sweet, heavy scent of the air. Riorca's scent had been clean and fresh, like salad greens. But Inya's scent was decadent, a rich dessert.

Now that they were on country roads and no longer being observed, the riders of his troop loosened their formation, and he found himself riding alongside Tiannon and Faydra, another cousin and one of the few female Fireturners.

Faydra was looking up at Mount Drav, which loomed over them, larger and more intimidating here than in Tiasa. “You think it's going to blow?”

“You felt the tremor,” said Rayn. “What do you think?”

“Yes,” said Faydra. “The tremor was substantial.”

Rayn turned to Tiannon.

“I missed the tremor, as you did,” he said.

“Don't leave town,” said Rayn. “I think I'll recall all the Fireturners to the palace. If Drav blows, we don't want any delay in rounding people up.”

Four Pines was a wild place, only recently settled. Rayn felt it should never have been settled at all—what sort of fool builds a house in the shadow of a volcano? If he became king, he would order these settlements abandoned and allow the land to revert to its wild state. As a hunting preserve, the land had value to his people. But its primary use was as a reservoir for sending lava flows, so that his Fireturners could continue to turn fires away from Tiasa.

The valley was named for four ancient Island Pines that had survived countless lava flows from Mount Drav. The valley was mostly grass and scrubby, fast-growing plants that spawned quickly after a fire. The four old trees weren't beautiful. They were enormously tall—Rayn estimated their height at fifteen to twenty stories—and their trunks were almost entirely bare, except at the very top where each sported a crown of leaves, just high enough to be safe from the leaping flames.

Farmers had torn up the grassland and plowed it into neat rows. Some of the plots were already producing. Rayn recognized sweet potatoes, onions, and sugarcane.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered to Faydra.

“A waste,” she agreed. “It'll all be destroyed in the next lava flow.”

“Councilor Worryn thinks we can stop the flow up on top of the mountain,” said Rayn.

She raised an eyebrow. “Has that man
seen
a lava flow from Mount Drav?”

Rayn suspected the councilor hadn't. He was the type to hide away in the Tiasan Palace, leaving the dirty work to everyone else.
Coward.
He called his Fireturners together and assigned each of them a nearby farmhouse to visit and deliver the evacuation order.

“It's not an official order, is it?” said Tiannon.

“It's official,” said Rayn. “It's coming from the prince of Inya.”

They fanned out, and each Fireturner galloped toward a farmhouse. For the next few hours, Rayn knocked on doors and informed farmers that their land was in imminent danger of a lava flow from Mount Drav, and they were to gather their belongings and leave immediately.

BOOK: Prince's Fire
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