Page 38 of The Starlit Ring (The Chronicles of Liridin #1)

His companion shrugged, turning so that I could just make out a green vest with a dragon embroidered upon it. The Baron of Rend, I thought, but I couldn’t be sure. It had been years since he’d last visited our court in Olmstead. “Doesn’t sound too difficult; only three of them.”

Ria’s gaze followed mine, then snapped back to her plate.

“All their messages were stolen,” the curly haired man mused, leaning onto his elbows. “They knew something.”

“Of course they did,” huffed the Baron. “Why else were they killed? ”

The curly haired man deflated. “Alright, well, I thought it was interesting.”

“War is never interesting,” said the Baron, shaking his head. “Just devastating.”

“Who says there will be a war?”

The Baron rolled drank deeply of his ale and rolled his eyes heavenward.

Dead messengers. Messages missing. What information did they have? Why steal it?

“It could be a fluke,” Ria suggested, staring wretchedly down at her baked fish. Even a dressing of butter and herbs could not whet her appetite; she picked at her food with the enthusiasm of a sickly animal. “Maybe it won’t happen again.”

I fought down a pang of worry.

“Maybe,” I said.

But when I returned to the servants’ quarters that evening, everyone was gathered before the fire, eagerly discussing the newest development.

“It’ll be here come morn,” said Helena, the most senior of the laundresses. One-eyed and astute, her dresses were always perfectly pressed, her collars starched, and her gaze unwavering. Sometimes, her stare grew so intense that I feared her remaining eye might pop free from its socket.

“Do you think we could have a tour?” asked Nella, a girl of only twelve who worked in the kitchens. She was sweet, but had a tendency to shout in the mornings before I was fully awake, and I couldn’t quite forgive her for it.

“Nay,” said Zellia, shaking her head. “It’ll be locked down tight.”

“What will?” I asked, joining the fray, alert now despite the way I’d practically dragged myself across the palace, bones heavy with exhaustion.

“The Sky Kingdom,” said Zellia, turning to me. “It’ll be here in the morning. ”

“Oh,” I said, baffled. “I didn’t realize we could predict its whereabouts.”

Laughter followed. Someone patted sympathetically me on the back.

“It’s hardly random, my dear,” said Helena, fixing her eye upon me.

“I-I didn’t know,” I protested. My face burned from humiliation.

“It’s alright,” said Prandi, one of the chefs, kindly.

Her long, graying hair was pulled back into tight bun, revealing her ancient, weathered face and bright green eyes.

I’d interacted with her very little since my arrival, but she’d never been anything less than kind. “But yes, it can be steered.”

“Oh,” I said, looking away. “That’s—fascinating.”

The night wore on. I didn’t bother to go to bed like I really wanted to—the servants were too eager to speculate about what had happened, and I didn’t want to miss anything. Some filtered off to the dormitory. Even the children’s maid, an aging woman named Laney, drew up a chair to listen.

If the children’s maid, always up before dawn, thought that it was important to hear the conversation, then I should probably stay.

“Maybe it was Nemonia,” someone suggested. “They’re probably eager to retaliate after we pushed them out of Blythewell.”

“But then they would attack us ,” pointed out Helena. “Liridin is a sovereign nation.”

“Does everyone know that?” I asked, prepared to be laughed at again.

“Round here, yes,” said Helena. “Mostly. Not in Olmstead, apparently.”

“Apparently not,” I admitted, forcing down my self-consciousness. I needed information, and I might not get it if I stayed silent and demure. “We heard stories. We just… nobody knew they were true. ”

The fire crackled. Someone had put on another kettle.

Now it vibrated fiercely, its whistle impending.

A plate of slightly stale bread rolls, and garlic herb butter rested on the table.

I’d already eaten my fill, but couldn’t stop thinking of the flaky crust, the tang of garlic, and considered reaching for more.

“Strange,” said Prandi, pulling her hair from its bun. Strands of silver swirled around her shoulders. “I wonder why.”

“I think maybe nobody in Olmstead goes to Tocchia,” I said, staring into the fire. Flames danced along the logs, licking the underside of the kettle. “It’s—a difficult journey.”

“You made it,” Zellia pointed out.

Laney watched me silently, her pale blue eyes nearly silver in the firelight. Something about her unsettled me, and I looked away.

“I did. But I was traveling with a royal caravan. I imagine the circumstances might’ve been different if I took the pilgrimage in a small group.”

“Your bard says he does it every year. Sometimes twice.”

“Avens is hardier than people give him credit for,” I said. And he was. For all his flash and laughter, he was quite prepared to make an arduous journey if it meant he could find a new audience, a new horizon.

Prandi gave a thoughtful nod. “I have no doubt of Avens’ abilities.”

“Nor should you,” I said. I liked Prandi, but Avens was too good a friend not to defend.

Eventually, people retired to bed, leaving only the true conspiracy theorists behind. I knew I needed to sleep, but I was hungry for more than just rolls. I wanted information.

“There’s conflict to the east,” mumbled Malin, one of the kitchen assistants.

He was an older man, tall and greying, with a tired, kindly face.

Right now, his gaze was glued to the window, where a full moon hovered outside.

“Always conflict to the East. I bet they’re trying to finish off the Sky and Sea once and for all. ”

“Finish them off?” I lifted my head.

Someone laughed.

“None like them on the rest of the continent. There used to be other Sky Kingdoms. One for each realm. Most were destroyed over the years,” said Helena, nodding to herself. She plucked a roll from the basket and began shredding the flaky crust. Little piles formed on the table.

“Destroyed?” I asked, watching the crumbs fall. “How does one destroy a Sky Kingdom?”

“War. Famine. Some of them were starved out. Others were overtaken. Rumor has it that some were stripped of their magic, became useless as boulders. Crashed down like boulders, too. Sky Kingdoms can’t be ruled by anyone other than a destined heir.

So if someone tries to invade, they just…

end. Not immediately, no. But they drift off course.

Crash into mountains. Drop into the sea.

” Malin shrugged. “Some say they convene over the seas now. That Liridin is the only one remaining near land, probably waiting for its heir.”

A shiver ran down my spine, hitting every vertebra.

“A ship would’ve spotted it,” huffed Helena. “If Sky Kingdoms were over the sea, we would know by now.”

“Would we?” asked Malin, frowning down Helena’s mess. “When they can cloak themselves in cloud and mist? How do we know that storms aren’t passing Sky Islands?”

Helena scowled. “We just would. A storm doesn’t come on like that.”

Malin raised an eyebrow. “Ever been to sea?”

Helena gave a proud nod. “Aye. It’s where I lost my eye.”

“At sea?”

“Cannon hit the main mast. Got a splinter in my eye the size of a finger. Damn thing had to be removed.” She shook her head bitterly. “The pirates ’ doctor had to do it for me.”

“You were kidnapped by pirates?” I gasped, a thrill jolting through me .

Helena gave a hearty laugh. “Darling, I was a pirate. I mean, yes, they sure kidnapped me, but make no mistake, I was a pirate already.”

“Oh,” I said, forgetting all about the downed messengers. “How exciting!”

“Yeah,” said Helena. “Sailed on the Drowned Rat , I did. Till she drowned, and we all fled like rats. Name was slightly prophetic.” Her laughter boomed through the near-empty room.

“It was actually pretty boring most of the time. Beautiful, but boring. Only time it was exciting was when we were on the chase.” She grinned, showing yellowed teeth.

“That was my favorite part. Stalking from port to port, gathering information on the whereabouts of certain cargo and,” she leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper, “plotting the best way to take it.”

“That does sound exciting,” I said, breath catching. I thought of the dozens of bodice-rippers I’d enjoyed featuring pirates and rogues, and hoped that Helena wouldn’t read my mind.

“It’s not what you think it is,” she said, and winked.

“I’m sure it isn’t,” I said, a blush rising in my cheeks. I wanted to hide my face in my hands. “I could never.”

Malin glanced between us and gave an exasperated sigh.