Page 12

CHAPTER 12

F or a time, Laena feared the storm would carry the door away from Aglye’s coast and into the wilds of the open ocean, though she didn’t voice it to Callum. He lay draped across their makeshift raft, looking an inch from death. Which he had been.

If she had not been near enough to pull him from the waves, he would have drowned. The thought made her want to reach for his hand, to stare at his chest and ensure he was still breathing.

Only because she didn’t want to be alone. And because she would still need a guide to help her reach Vunmore safely.

King Hawk would want to know about the strangeness of that storm, and she would need to send messages to Katrina as well. Her sister might think the plague in Laena’s garden was a forgettable occurrence, but she would have to pay heed to a storm like that one. Particularly since Callum was another surviving witness to the incident.

None of that would happen if she and Callum were swept out to sea. But there was little Laena could do beyond holding on to the raft and watching Callum’s chest, relieved each time he drew another breath.

She wished she could be as certain of the fates of the other men. She tried to tell herself that they would be watching out for one another, and as trained soldiers they certainly would have secured a lifeboat and known how to make their way in a storm.

If only they could find their way to the coast, they might meet up with the men once again.

Fortunately, the current showed mercy as it washed them toward the shore, allowing Laena and Callum to maneuver themselves onto the beach without much difficulty. The sky was still a starless black, but at least those unnerving red clouds had moved on.

All she could see of the shore was a stretch of sand and beyond that a forest of reedy looking trees. When her feet touched the sand, Laena allowed herself to collapse upon it and said, “If a tiger comes out of those woods to eat me, I’m going to let it.”

Callum offered her a hand. “I would object to that, my lady. Who would save me from drowning?”

She accepted his hand reluctantly, and his fingers closed around hers, sending a thrill of warmth tingling across her skin that nearly made her snatch her hand away again. And in her desperation not to do so, she held on perhaps a bit too tightly.

Mages, but she was a fool. The man was dangerous. Why was it so impossibly hard to remember that?

“I trust you will avoid such situations in future.” She released his hand and brushed at her dress, more to cover her awkwardness than because she had any hope of dislodging the sand that had crusted there. The skirts were thoroughly drenched, and her hair hung in a limp mat around her shoulders, her sleeves clinging to her skin. She shivered. It might be the dip in the ocean, but it felt unnaturally cold for full summer .

“The trees will offer more shelter.” Callum started off across the beach toward the forest, which appeared quite threatening. But what choice did they have?

Brin stirred in Laena’s hair as she followed Callum across the beach, and she cupped the little shimmerling between her hands for a brief moment, relieved to find Brin was still with them. When she opened her hands, Brin scurried up to her shoulder and craned her neck with an alertness that said she, at least, viewed this as an adventure.

“Mischievous thing,” Laena whispered. “I was worried about you.”

Brin flicked her tongue out. Probably just hoping for a nice, juicy beetle.

Callum waited at the edge of the forest, and they entered together without comment. The last of the rain had abated, though she could still hear it striking the canopy above. The leaves crunched beneath their feet, dry despite the punishing storm that had passed through.

Though perhaps it had not passed through here with as much… exuberance.

“The underbrush is dry,” Laena said. “We could make camp. A fire.”

Callum looked around, water streaming from his hair and down his cheeks. “I’m not sure we can do much other than huddle against a trunk and wait for dawn. Without light to see, we’ll walk straight into your tiger’s den.”

Laena raised a hand and stroked Brin’s back, eliciting a satisfied squeak out of the newt. “Brin, would you light the way?”

She didn’t think the words were necessary, or that Brin understood them. She merely knew that a second stroke down the shimmerling’s back—which she administered now—would prompt Brin to start glowing. Which she did, like a large pink firefly, only bright enough to see by .

Only when Callum stepped closer did she realize her mistake. “Magic, my lady?” he asked.

He stood so close that only a few inches separated them as he bent over her shoulder to inspect Brin. Laena stepped back, cupping her hands protectively over the small lizard. “It isn’t magic,” she said. “It’s biology, I’m sure. How else would she hunt at night.”

“Cats hunt at night without setting themselves aflame. Bats, too.”

“She isn’t on fire. She’s merely… glowing.”

But to her surprise, Callum raised a fist to his heart, bowing gently in Brin’s direction.

“Shimmerlings are revered in Aglye,” he said softly. “The last remaining magic of the Vales. I have never seen one in person.”

Perhaps not the only remaining magic of the Vales , she thought. But she held her tongue. “Why would they be revered?”

“Do you not know the stories?”

She shook her head. She’d heard of shimmerlings of course, but only in the context of fairytales.

“They say shimmerling bones were used to control humans during the time of the mages,” he said softly, eyes still trained on Brin. “And they say a shimmerling bone broke the curse at last. Long enough for humans to rise up and banish the mages. But perhaps the creatures felt themselves misused. They disappeared into the wilds, leaving the humans to fend for themselves.”

He’d drifted closer again, and without her even noticing. There were drops of water clinging to his eyelashes, each of them shining in the glow of Brin’s magic.

“I’ve never heard that story,” she said. Her voice was a mere whisper. She could not have made it louder if she wanted to.

“The mages were not so ensconced in Etra,” he said. “Or so they say. Perhaps the shimmerlings fled there. ”

“How? Did they build little boats?”

He raised his eyebrows and she sighed, forcing herself to move away from him. “The light won’t last forever, Captain. Best get gathering.”

Together they located a clearing that would be safe for building a fire. No axe to chop wood, but there were fallen branches that snapped easily enough, and they got to work gathering kindling as best they could. Laena withdrew her dagger—still firmly ensconced in its sheath, thank goodness—and struck it upon a stone until sparks ignited the small pile of leaves she’d gathered in the center of the kindling.

It always felt like a puzzle to her, arranging the kindling and logs just so, creating a chimney. There was a deep satisfaction in watching the flames spring to life from just a few strikes of steel and stone. At the cottage, she often broke her spring and fall yard work into several sessions merely so she might have several bonfires instead of just one. True, there were no neighbors to share a hot drink with, no friends to tell stories and jokes. But somehow, the flames were companion enough.

When Callum returned to the clearing, he dropped the firewood he’d collected and sat beside her, gazing appreciatively into the flames. “How did a princess learn the art of starting a campfire?”

“We did not grow up as sheltered doves,” Laena said, wrapping her arms around her knees to quell her shivering. “We roamed the countryside around Riles.”

He paused, perhaps considering how sheltered Aglye’s princess was. Laena didn’t really know; the girl was a mystery, rarely seen. “I hope your stablehand appreciates your skill.”

Laena frowned, and he shifted an inch closer to the fire. “I said I pay no heed to gossip. I do have ears.”

“I suppose that story made it all the way to the Miragelands,” Laena said, sighing .

Callum shivered, though she didn’t think it had anything to do with the chill in the air. The mention of the mages’ lands, after what they’d experienced today… it felt like an ill omen. She wished she could snatch the words back again, to banish the thought of the magic users who had so callously used humans for centuries.

Until they’d been locked away again. Perhaps his legends were right. Perhaps the shimmerlings had played a part in it. As Brin curled up on her shoulder, Laena found she rather liked the idea.

“Don’t worry, my lady,” Callum said, snatching her out of her thoughts. “I’ll get you home safe to him.”

For a moment she could only stare at him, confused. Until she realized that he meant Ben. The stories he paid no heed to. The scandal that had crossed all lands.

“It’s Laena,” she replied, buying herself a moment. “Please. Call me Laena.”

He nodded, gazing into the flames, the orange light dancing across his face. She wasn’t sure exactly what made her continue. Fatigue perhaps. But despite his reputation for eviscerating magic users, she found she could not help but trust him.

“He’s gone,” she said. “Ben, that is. The stablehand. He left.”

Callum turned his head to look down at her, his expression unreadable in the firelight. And yet… she could tell somehow that he had not already known this. He had not been probing for the truth with his promise to return her to her love. If anything, she thought he looked stricken with shock.

Well, it had been rather a shocking day.

“Before you think it, Katrina has nothing to fear from me,” she continued. “I’m happy with my cottage life.” If the words sounded a bit hollow, even to her own ears, it was only to be expected after the dramatic events of the day.

She could have let him go on thinking that Ben was still in her life. But she didn’t feel equal to the deception. Why bother ?

The silence stretched on, and she found herself concocting responses he might give. Everything from “Well, what did you expect?” to “It’s only what you deserve.” She knew, because they were the responses she concocted for herself every day.

And in the back of her mind—that whisper she could never quite quell: “Did you not see it coming?”

She had. Mages, but she most definitely had.

By the time she realized she needed to leave the palace, that her powers would only grow and put her country in danger, her only comfort had been in the fact that Ben would be with her. She had known that Kat went riding every Sunday, and she’d arranged for a tryst at that very time, setting the stage for the discovery.

She could trust her sister to play her part well enough, to grasp for the throne. And still, Laena might have remained. While Ben could not have been her king, there were council members who had begged her to keep him as a lover, stating all too plainly that it had been done before.

It was the magic that had forced her hand and forced her to leave.

It was Kat who had banned her from Riles for five years.

But Laena had truly cared for Ben, and she’d thought she would be able to trust him with so much more. Though she hadn’t shared the truth of her magic with him, she’d been on the verge of it when that morning had arrived, and she’d woken to find him gone.

If Callum were to berate her, it would be no more than she deserved.

He shook his head, and she could feel it coming. The judgment. The hatred. He would not try to stand close to her again, not show her the full width of his smile.

It was just as well. She ought to make him keep his distance. She ought to keep hers.

Callum was still shaking his head, as if words could not adequately express his disdain. “Then he’s a fucking fool,” he said.

Laena opened her mouth, closed it again. Not disdain for her. Disdain… for Ben ?

Before she could begin to come up with a response, he said, “The storm was something unnatural.”

Laena stared. Was he… had he changed the subject? Why? For her comfort, or because he didn’t want to have to state any of the truths that ran through her mind on a daily basis?

But no. He didn’t seem the type to say anything he did not mean. If she’d spent her life trading in court politics and deceptions, he was the soldier who said what he meant, and that was that.

“Do you still have the crystal?” he asked.

She nodded but didn’t extract the wretched thing from the pouch at her waist. It was there, snug in its pocket, along with her blade.

One dagger, one shimmerling, and one evil crystal. That was what remained. “Do you think the crystal and the storm are related?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Might be. Though the crystal does not smell of heart-tithe, and the storm did.”

She nodded slowly, remembering the strange scents on the air after the shipwreck. “I don’t recall giving you leave to smell my crystal,” she said.

At that, he threw his head back and laughed. The unbridled amusement startled her into silence for a brief moment, and then she couldn’t help but smile herself. She hadn’t meant to prompt quite that response, though she found herself wondering how she might prompt it again.

“Do you know where we are?” she asked, when he’d finally composed himself.

He rubbed his eyes. “I believe we’re in Aglye’s coastal forest. At dawn, we should make our way to Inasvale. ”

Dread curled in Laena’s gut like a weight. “To the poisonkeepers?”

He stared into the fire, lips taut with tension. She wished she could tell what he was thinking. “I need to speak with the king’s brother, Thaddeus. He is a full brother there now.”

Laena had not known that the king’s younger brother had taken orders as a poisonkeeper. Though when she’d left Riles, he would have been what, sixteen? Seventeen? A spare heir to the throne in any case, and free to follow his inclinations. Provided that the heir remained well.

But Laena had no desire to travel to Inasvale or to meet the order of monks who believed they guarded the passage between the Miragelands and the Vales. If Callum’s hatred of magic was well known, the poisonkeepers’ hatred of it was the stuff of legend. Should they discover her magic, they would no doubt seek to destroy it. And her.

People in Etra whispered that their religion was a false one, their task purposeless. Some whispered that there was nothing to guard, that the mages were a myth and had never lived in the Vales at all, though Laena could not quite give credence to those theories. She’d studied too many histories to deny the truth.

Callum bit his bottom lip, his expression distant, as though he was rolling the plan around in his head. “Even if Hawk won’t take your crystal seriously, Thaddeus will.”

So he did doubt his king with respect to the crystal and the poison. Laena had hoped they might be approaching the more reasonable monarch of the Vales. More reasonable than Katrina, anyway. And certainly more reasonable than Silerith’s king, locking himself away as he did.

After the assassination attempt and the magical storm, Hawk seemed more likely to turn his eye toward Silerith, as Kat had done. They were the threat; who else would be sending heart-tithers after Etran royalty? And so blatantly, too.

Laena hugged her knees to her chest. If the poisonkeepers would take the crystal seriously, then she would risk the journey. “Will Thaddeus know what to do?”

Callum looked at his hands. “I’ll take the first watch,” he said, offering no answer. “Get some rest, my lady.”