Page 2 of The Queens and the Kings (The Isles #2)

brITT

A drizzling rain hummed on top of the churning sea, singing like a lullaby. It sluiced down Britt’s back, pebbling the water as she leaped off the side of the rowboat and onto the Kapurnickkian pier. Clouds and fog glided past, obscuring the viridian Dragul Mountains.

Her mountains.

Denerfen issued a delighted squeak beneath her damp hair, wings flapping, claws massaging her shoulder in a threat to fly higher without her. Rain like this would swamp him into the turbulent seas within seconds, so she reached with a calming hand. Her gaze remained straight ahead.

Thirty steps away, under the protection of an awning, awaited a lone, stalwart figure: shoulders braced, arms rigid. General Helsing held herself as tightly wound as a clock, without display of awkwardness or bodily insecurity.

Malcolm shouted over a roll of thunder. “She’s going to be livid that you left without telling her your plans! And with a dragul,” he added with lessening gusto.

A ripple of fear hit Britt’s stomach like cold water. General Helsing couldn’t berate Britt for anything with Denerfen, her bonded dragul. She could, however, berate Britt for taking Tesserdress with her.

Britt had known from the beginning that General Helsing would be unhappy that Britt left to save Malcolm without permission. All that happened on the Unseen Island and with Captain Oliver, which would make her aunt downright murderous.

Britt called over her shoulder, “Still worth it.”

Malcolm flashed her a grateful smile. Weeks on Pedr’s ship, a few more Kapurnikkian potions, and sleep had restored his health. His broken arm remained weak, but mended quickly. Greater scars existed in his eyes than his body. Steady food and safety had done most of the work.

As they hurried up the dock, a rolling motion stirred beneath Malcolm’s shirt. Tesserdress, his dragul. She, too, had almost fully recovered. Britt’s relief continued to be a palpable thing.

Striding at her side, Henrik glanced at Britt.

His dark expression matched his eyes and hair, which he’d tucked into a braid, then wound to a knot on top of his head.

Was he nervous? Frightened? She scoffed at the thought.

What would frighten Henrik, the Stenberg soldat?

After what she’d observed on the Unseen Island . . . nothing.

With a shake of his saturated head, Malcolm said, “I guess it’s better to get the confrontation over with. When we get closer, I’ll stay with Henrik until you’re done with your verbal lashing. She might lock you up in the undermountain, you know.”

General Helsing had unsuccessfully attempted it before. “I know,” Britt grumbled, and added, “Thanks.”

Malcolm offered to keep Henrik away to spare her the embarrassment of General Helsing’s dressing down. Nevermind that Britt had saved Malcolm and Tesserdress. She’d deliberately gone around General Helsing to make it happen, and General Helsing didn’t like anything she couldn’t control.

As they slowed, Henrik quietly stated, “I’m not staying with Malcolm.” Had she imagined that his fingertips grazed the small of her back? Henrik’s hard stare dared her to stop him from following her. Water rolled down his cheeks.

Britt’s knees turned to water. She nodded once.

Malcolm rolled his eyes and muttered a Kapurnickkian curse word.

Britt didn’t want Henrik to stay with Malcolm, but she didn’t relish the idea of General Helsing gouging her pride in front of Henrik, either.

Based on his narrowed scrutiny and defensive stance, Henrik wouldn’t appreciate her aunt, either.

Concern suffused Henrik’s expression as Britt approached the awning, which extended fifty steps from the doorway into the mountain. Malcolm opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped. The aged lines of General Helsing’s face were visible, so she’d hear whatever he said.

General Helsing shifted her weight. Her hands, held at her rail-thin sides, hadn’t swayed. Her graying bun and severe cheeks were the picture of indignant ire.

When General Helsing was less than twenty steps away, Britt slowed. The weight of her fears settled with insufferable discomfort. Henrik squinted through the rain, as if to ask why she faltered. Her heart slammed.

Blessed mermaids, she had to pull it together.

She’s going to hate me, she thought. She’s always hated me.

Britt kicked her courage into place, screwed her shoulders back, and continued her march with more determined strides. Henrik kept up with her, while Malcolm stayed back to signal for Einar and Agnes once Britt’s confrontation concluded.

Denerfen’s wings fluttered with every step. He squeaked and squealed with each breath he released. Whether he was excited to be home or nervous for General Helsing remained unclear.

Kind and patient, Britt reminded herself. Just be kind and patient.

Heart in her throat, Britt stopped three steps in front of her aunt.

The awning covered them, and the rain made a delightful ruckus.

General Helsing glowered as she studied Britt.

Her analysis flickered over Britt’s shoulder to Henrik, lingered for a breath, and returned. She called over the swelling storm.

“You survived.”

Britt pasted her bright, cheery mask into place. Her amusement with life fit like a well-worn glove.

“Are you surprised?”

“Yes.”

Britt swallowed her snarling report of, Malcolm and Tesserdress are alive, and with no thanks to you , by covering it with another broad smile. She couldn’t withhold her snappy retort.

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Don’t be emotional. Of course I didn’t want you dead, but a good lesson on control and planning certainly wouldn’t hurt.” General Helsing paused. “I received Malcolm’s letters. You owe me several explanations.”

Thunder clapped. “Can we do it inside?” Britt shouted.

A look of genuine surprise crossed her aunt’s face as she glanced at the needlepoint rain, seeming to register the sweeping winds for the first time. Her body turned to a slight angle in the warmest welcome they could expect.

“You may bring your guest.”

General Helsing led the way across water-logged sand covered by the awning and to a hallway chiseled into the black stone mountain. They advanced through a winding corridor as familiar as breathing, lit by glowing veins of gold in the walls.

Britt hid an anticipatory grin. Should she warn Henrik about what to expect when they left the tunnel and entered the undermountain?

Nah.

Surprise was better.

When the unbroken silence became a burden, they exited the coarse stone walls and stepped inside the heart of Dragul Mountain. Britt’s heart pattered with a secret thrill for the undermountain.

Carved out eons ago by whatever forebears left this place to her people, the hollowed out mountain soared with stone walls and hidden catacombs.

Hallways crawled through the island’s mountain like arteries, branching into smaller rooms, offices, storage spaces.

The underside soared overhead, but didn’t ascend through all layers of the main Dragul Mountain.

Enough to provide protection and a gathering place, but not comprehensive.

The occasional flutter of dragul wings along the far wall softened the midnight stone.

Golden light radiated from tables, wall holders, torches, candles like star trails.

Glass windows split the western wall to the sky, their gigantic space cluttered by overgrown ivy along the edges.

Lightning cracked across cloud bulkheads that hurried closer, casting waves into sloppy fits.

History claimed that an Arcanist put those windows in centuries ago, though no one knew for certain.

Henrik’s steps faltered when he entered the booming space, but quickly resumed. If he experienced awe at their hidden world, he couched it well. His neutrality inspired jealousy. Had he been here before? Doubtful, though he’d been to Kapurnick during his reefer year, receiving jord.

Britt spun to tell Henrik, “I’ll explain everything later,” but General Helsing stopped. Britt prevented a collision at the last second by peeling off to the side and swallowing her promise to Henrik.

“You and I will meet in my office, Britt.” General Helsing studied him. “And you are?”

“Henrik.”

“The soldat?”

“Yes.”

Her brow arched. Nothing good happened when General Helsing passed judgment with her brow. She folded her hands in front of her.

“I understand that I am to thank you for coming to my niece’s aid and keeping her alive. We all know what a difficult thing that can be.”

Henrik’s eyes glittered. “The opposite is true, General. She was of great help to me, and I was grateful to repay, however small.”

His gallant words, spoken with a touch of frost, sounded like a reproach. Britt hid a delighted giggle. What Pedr would have given to hear that delivery!

General Helsing’s reply responded with glacial measure. “I am sure you’re too kind. Britt, go to my office. Henrik, you have a visitor waiting for you. While I speak with Britt, you may speak with him.”

A touch of confusion twisted Henrik’s lips.

Him ?

Who would visit Henrik here? His jaw shifted forward, a subtle giveaway that he’d fallen into deep thought. She had only recently understood the sign for what it was.

A snap of General Helsing’s fingers brought a young girl named Nina to her side. Nina beamed a bright smile at Britt. She returned it with a wink.

“Nina, please take Henrik to our other guest. Britt, with me.”

Henrik met Britt’s gaze with a silent question.

Unseen Island formed an undeniable loyalty between them.

Since their departure from that horrid place, he watched out for her with the intensity of a sea hawk.

Her heart skipped a beat when she realized he sought permission .

Sorely tempted to beg him to take her with him, she nodded him to his visitor instead.

He reluctantly peeled his focus off her. To General Helsing, he said, “Thank you, General,” and executed a perfect bow.

Following Nina’s footsteps, he strode across the open space, cluttered with chairs, and took Britt’s courage with him.

Every Kapurnickkian present turned to watch him as he passed.

He acted oblivious to their stares, but she knew he took each islander in.

He commanded attention with a confident stride, the set of his shoulders.

Henrik glanced back once, gave her a firm nod, and vanished in a far hallway. Britt’s singing heart refused to calm. Blessed mermaids.

The man could walk .

General Helsing watched him go with a calculated gleam in her eyes. “Let’s get this over with, Britt. I have another, more important, meeting in thirty minutes.”