Page 16

16

CHARLIE

M y journey to the sea cave and back had left me beaten and exhausted, but I still felt illuminated with electricity as I watched Essaphine wing skyward to join the flock of dragons.

“She’s brave. You have to give her that,” a voice said, and I turned to find the eunuch, Ollie, coming to stand at my side.

“She is,” I agreed, as together we watched the dragons diminish into the distance.

“But then, you’re no stranger to adventure yourself, are you?” Ollie asked. “I heard about your night out.”

I studied Ollie’s face, but it showed no sign of emotion, good or ill.

“Word really does travel fast in this place,” I said.

“There is a saying: There are three things you can never keep a secret from: yourself, the wind, and the Torouman. And of course Clua went to me immediately. She’d never do anything concerning Essa without my blessing.”

He must’ve seen the look of alarm on my face because he clapped me on the back.

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. Anything done to help the princess is a virtue in my book. Still, I have questions. Did no one help you get out of the castle? Did you truly scale down the wall?”

“I did,” I said.

“And where did you get the items you gave Clua? I’ve not seen metal like that before.”

“From the wreck of the plane I arrived in,” I said.

The eunuch arched an eyebrow. “I thought that was lost at sea.”

“It is now,” I lied. “It had been lodged in the rocks, but when I pulled the stay free, it fell into deeper water.”

Ollie nodded thoughtfully. “Why take such a risk? You could have fallen in. You could have been caught—and the queen’s guards are far less understanding than I. Why risk yourself to help a princess you barely know?”

I couldn’t tell him the truth. I’m helping her because she’s weak. Because she’s the worst rider you have. Because if she leads the Skrathan, I’m pretty sure we can crush them. But I had no other excuse ready. Damned if I wasn’t a terrible spy.

“Unless…” Ollie went on slowly. “Unless you’re in love with her.”

My eyebrows went up and I blinked, my mind leaping to catch up with his words. Part of me wanted to laugh in his face at the suggestion. Me? In love with Essaphine? The girl had been nothing but demeaning and insulting ever since I’d arrived in Maethalia. She’d kicked me, tied me up, imprisoned me. And yet, I found my heart beating surprisingly fast at his suggestion.

“In love. With—with her?” I stammered.

Ollie gave a low laugh. “Well, the attraction isn’t hard to see for those who are looking. And, of course, the princess has her charms.”

The gears in my mind were turning. The Torouman was shrewd. He’d need an explanation why I was helping Essa. Perhaps being in love with her was the cover I needed. I blinked, trying to wrap my head around the new role. “Is she not in some sort of relationship?”

Ollie shook his head. “Others have stayed away from her over the years, perhaps because she isn’t whole, or because she might become queen one day and must be sanctified—or because they were simply scared of her. All except Braimar.”

Braimar. The green haired bastard. I didn’t like him when I first met him. Suddenly, I liked him even less.

“The two of them dated?”

Ollie cocked his head. “Dating isn’t a word that is used in Maethalia. But there was a courtship between them, when more of Essa’s siblings remained alive and it seemed as if she might not become the queen’s heir. Some even hoped they might marry and solidify the bond between the crown and the Gray Brotherhood.”

“The Gray Brotherhood. That’s Prelate Kortoi,” I said.

Ollie smiled. “Ah, you have done your homework. Yes. Braimar is Kortoi’s nephew, which, in the traditions of our people, means that Kortoi is his durram, his teacher and mentor.”

“And the bond between Kortoi and the queen needs solidifying?”

Ollie glanced over his shoulder. There, against a cliff face, stood a tower of stone so like the rock it abutted that I’d never noticed it before. In the tower there was a balcony where a host of finely dressed people sat. It was the perfect vantage point from which to watch any contest taking place in the cauldron, and, though it was hard to tell from here, but I felt sure one of the spectators seated there must be the queen.

“Neither side acknowledges any animosity,” Ollie said quietly. “But Kortoi and the dark gods he serves have their own purposes, that is known. The queen and her allies work constantly to keep the Gray Brothers from becoming too powerful. And yet, the crown requires their Lacunae knights and their dark mages to maintain the war effort on Dorhane. It is a complex dance.”

“I guess so,” I said, rubbing the growing stubble on my chin. It explained the instruction to report via Kortoi. Perhaps this Prelate was working against the queen more actively than Ollie knew… “And whose side are you on?” I asked.

The eunuch looked offended. “The Queen’s, certainly. The Gray Brotherhood is all about negation. No sweets. No sex. No butter. No song. They care for nothing but the secrets to be found in black, starless skies and beings who whisper at the bottoms of wells. Demons, phantoms and incubi. Their path offers power, certainly, but they’re far too morose for my taste.”

“Sounds like it,” I said. “Still, I’d like to meet this Kortoi some time. Newspaper readers love a good boogie man.”

Ollie looked troubled. “I’ll talk to Hoatan. If he thinks it’s a good idea, perhaps it can be arranged. But if it does happen, don’t take the meeting lightly. The Brotherhood have strange powers. They’ve been known to hypnotize the unwary—and worse.”

I nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be careful.”

But my mind was back on Essaphine again. The last dragons had disappeared over the edge of the Cauldron and were out of sight.

“Tell me about this challenge,” I said.

“The Thimble Race? It is one of the greatest challenges riders face. According to legend, two riders—an Irska and his second—once fell in love with a royal seamstress and they were at odds over who would marry her. The Queen, rather than doing the sensible thing and asking the girl who she preferred, devised a task. She placed a thimble on the highest peak of the Yrdam Mountains. The first rider to return with it would get the hand of the seamstress. Both riders set out from the Cauldron in a vicious race through the mountains, each using all his powers to reach the thimble first and return to here to claim his bride.”

“Which of them won?” I asked.

Ollie chuckled. “Neither. Their dragons were found at the bottom of Bellu Gorge, their claws buried in each other’s bellies, their jaws locked onto each other’s throats. They say the bones are still there, turned to stone now, if anyone cares to risk their lives to clamber down and look for them.”

I gave a low whistle. “And that’s what Essaphine’s doing now?” I asked, my eyes on the empty sky where the dragons had disappeared.

Ollie nodded gravely. “There are enough thimbles for each rider now, but not every rider lives long enough to retrieve theirs and bring it back. I don’t know if the god of your people answers prayers, reporter. But if he does—and if you truly care for Essaphine—now would be the time to pray.”