03 - Sworn (48 page)

He glared at me, but I was too angry to feel fear, or to stop speaking. “This is not the Ulric I remember. I’ve never cared for you any more than you did for me, but there was a time when I respected you. You were a good king, once. Generous with those who supported you, even if those people were nobles you hated or the governors of distant provinces who you didn’t fully trust. You were fair, you cared for your people.”

“And what do you see now?” he demanded. He sat on his bedroll and let out a stream of barking coughs that left him slumped over and gasping. At least there was no blood this time. “Go on. You’ve obviously been waiting to say it.”

“Now you make enemies of people who should be the opposite,” I said. “You demand respect, to be obeyed without question, as though you still sit on the throne and control the fates of your subjects. But you don’t. You have no power, aside from what your allies bring with them.” I thought back over the past weeks. He’d bent himself backward to please the rebels and his former subjects, but turned on anyone with real power. Anyone who might be a threat.

“You can’t keep this up forever,” I continued. “Rowan isn’t afraid of you anymore, and has no respect for you. She only supports you because she would rather see you on the throne than see me take it, and because she wants Severn gone as much as any of us. She’s here of her own free will, supporting and helping you, and you repay her with disrespect, threats, isolation, and a flat-out refusal to develop her obvious skills because you’re afraid of them.”

He grimaced. “I know.”

I paused, surprised. “You know what, exactly?”

“That I’m losing everything.” He clenched his fists, then relaxed them. “I had it all, once. Political power. Magic. Respect. I worked hard to gain all of them, but in a sense they were also handed to me. I’ve lost every advantage, now. I feel as though I’m clinging to the top of a cliff by my fingernails, and I’m slipping.” His voice grew weak.

“Perhaps if you treated your allies better, they’d pull you up and help you stand until you’re well enough to do it on your own.”

He shook his head slowly. “Do you know what it’s like to have no one near who you can trust?”

“I remember. I found that life became easier when I learned to gain respect through decency rather than fear. I have friends who would give their lives for me, but it’s because they know I would do the same for them. I thought that was the kind of king you were, once.”

“I was,” he said softly. “But everything around me has changed. How can I not?” He frowned. “I thought I could finally trust you, and Nox as well. Yet here we are.”

I sat next to him as as the chill of his magic retreated. “I want what’s best for us, and for Tyrea,” I said. “If Nox gets into Luid, she might find your cure. If not, she might still better our chances of entering the city. What were our other options?”

“And you felt that disobedience was the answer?”

I considered my words carefully. He wanted honesty, and I was done pandering to his sensitivities. Still, the feeling of having my strength stolen lingered, and I had no desire to provoke him further. “Had Nox come to me sooner, had I known of her plans, I would have spoken to you and tried to help you see that letting her go was the only way. Had you told me yourself what she was planning, we might have discussed it. As it was, I needed to make a quick decision last night, and I did. I think denying her this was a mistake on your part. I regret that we didn’t have time to better discuss it.”

“She’ll die,” he said, and I realized that though he may have told himself he was only angered by our lack of respect, it went deeper. He cared for his daughter, perhaps enough that he’d let it cloud his judgement. He’d tried to keep her safe, even if it cost him dearly.

“She’s clever, and as prepared as she can be,” I said. I wasn’t going to offer false reassurances, but he needed something. “We’ve been working on keeping people out of her thoughts, and if she makes it to the Potioners’ workroom, she’ll be able to do more to protect herself.”

He rested his forehead in his hands. “Severn bested me, Aren. He’ll defeat you, if it comes to it. He’ll see through her.”

I tried to harden my heart and think like he always wanted me to. “And then what have we lost? Severn surely knows we’re here already. Sending in a spy won’t seem out of place. Nox won’t reveal your weakness.”

His lips tightened as he looked up. “Not even if he has her tortured?”

I pushed away the images that flooded my mind, memories of what Severn was capable of. “This was her decision. She knew the risks. If she thinks she’s been found out, she won’t let it come to that. She’ll make sure she can’t talk.”

“You think she’s strong enough to do it?”

“I do. She won’t let herself betray us.”

He gritted his teeth and pushed himself back to stand, and I got to my feet as well.

“And what of everything else?” he asked. “Pretend you’re the king’s advisor. You did it so well for Severn, you can for me. What should I do now?”

At least he was listening. “I would suggest you go out there and make amends. Much as I know it kills you to admit you were wrong, Ernis Albion is not the one who owes an apology here. Tell him the truth of what happened to his daughter. Embrace those who support you. You have people out there who are interested in seeing Severn defeated, and more back in Wildwood.” I waited until he looked at me again before I continued. “And in seeing you back on the throne. Severn may have strategic allies, but I think most Tyreans want their old king back. Not one who will rule by fear, as Severn does. Accept the fact that for now, you need our help. Be grateful for the people who are here with you. Be the king they remember.”

“Are you finished?”

“I think so.”

He grunted. “At least you know how to make a speech. That should come in handy some day.”

“So you’ll talk to Albion?”

He nodded. “Give us some space. We’ll work it out.”

He left before I could say anything else.

I remembered my promise to Nox, and searched the camp for Kel. He’d looked terrible when I saw him earlier. I found him outside of camp, sitting on a fallen log and drinking something from a dark bottle, looking almost exactly the way I felt. I sat next to him, in spite of the damp bark.

“One of Nox’s potions?” I asked.

He pulled the bottle away from his lips and studied it. “No, it’s something one of Xaven’s men gave me. Said it’s the traditional human cure for heartbreak. Something fermented. Like wine, but far stronger. Decent fellow.”

I took the bottle from him and sniffed, and wrinkled my nose at the astringent scent of the alcohol. Strong, low-quality stuff, sharp enough to peel paint with fumes alone. Kel’s eyes were already unfocused.

“Is it working?”

“I don’t know. It still hurts.” He set the bottle down and leaned his head against my shoulder. “I miss her. More than that, I’m frightened for her. What will Severn do if he figures out who she is?”

“He won’t.” I put an arm around my oldest friend to steady him. “She’s a survivor, right?”

“She is that. It’s not that I think she needs me so much as I just want to be there with her if she can’t be here safe with me. Even though I know she’s safer if I’m not... Am I rambling?”

“I understand. I’m sorry, Kel.”

He pushed himself up straight. “I sort of knew that this was a part of the experience of this kind of love. Most mers know about it, intellectually, and are thankful to not deal with it. I just didn’t think it would hurt this much. It’s as if my heart—my physical, beating heart—is consuming itself.”

“I suspect that’s why it’s called heartbreak.”

He picked the bottle up and pointed it at me. “Yeah. You’d know, right?” He nodded sagely. “You know.”

I accepted the bottle and took a long drink. It tasted terrible, and burned all the way down. My magic would lessen any ill effects, but the stuff was potent.

Potent, and almost gone.

“Kel, did you drink all of this?”

“It hurts a lot. He said it would help.”

“Come on.”

I stood, and Kel followed. When he stumbled, I pulled one of his arms around my shoulders and held him up by his waist. “Don’t make me carry you,” I warned. “You’ll embarrass both of us.”

The bedroll he’d shared with Nox was unmade, the blankets tossed back. I set him down on it and got him a cup of water from among Nox’s things, then on second thought took the jug and placed it beside the bed. The dehydration brought on by consumption of alcohol would be worse for him than it would for a human, and anyone would feel it after the amount he’d had.

“Listen,” I told him.

He opened his eyes. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Drink this. All of it.”

“Let me die.” He closed his eyes.

“Don’t be dramatic. Come on, wake up.” I made him sit up and drink the first cup of water, then poured another. “You should sleep this off, but after you drink the water.”

“Will I feel better then?”

“No. Drink.”

“This is a stupid cure,” he muttered.

I sat with him until the water was gone, and after as he stared at the roof, lost in his thoughts.

“Aren?” His eyes grew bleary with tears, which held a strange golden color in the light of the tent. “You’re a good friend. Best I’ve ever had. Nobody back home would understand this, or care.”

“You’re going to get through it. You have a bigger, stronger heart than anyone I know. It’s not going to be broken forever. She’ll come back.”

“Yeah. We’re going to get through this. You and me.” He patted my arm and laid down again. “I just need to sleep for a minute.”

“Take your time. I’d say we’ll need you soon enough.”

I left him and walked around camp. People gave me my space, and no one asked for help as they set up their tents and got the horses settled. Victoria offered a smile as she carried seed packets off into the woods, where Rowan waited. I raised my hand to wave at Rowan, and she smiled back. Then they were gone. I hoped that meant they were both making progress in their connected gifts. We’d need more food, and soon.

I tried not to think too much on how natural it already felt to see her at a distance.
Distance is good,
I told myself. If I was going to have to face Severn—and Ulric’s continued poor health seemed to indicate that I would—she would be better off far from me.

I looped back around to my father’s tent and arrived in time to see him and Albion emerging. Both looked shaken, but at least it seemed that their discussion hadn’t come to a fight. Though I didn’t want to look too closely or be caught staring, I thought I spotted a hint of red in my grandfather’s eyes. If he’d shed tears, Ulric didn’t appear to think less of him for it. The two shook hands, and Albion strode off toward his people.

I followed.

“What’s next?” I asked.

“Defenses,” he answered, his voice lower and rougher than I was accustomed to hearing it. “It will take a few days to set up, and using this much magic may draw Severn’s attention before we can repel it, but it needs to be done. I’ll set up something similar to what we have surrounding Belleisle, on a much smaller scale.”

“And then?”

He stopped walking and took a deep breath. “That will be up to your father, and whoever he’ll allow to help. This is his challenge, but you’re the one he seems to trust the most.”

I couldn’t decide whether that was promising or horrifying, given how little he trusted me.

“He told you everything?”

Albion gave me a sad half smile. “As much as needed to be said about old wounds, and more about recent concerns. Enough for me to understand what we’re up against.”

“And what do you think of it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. We’ll have some hard decisions to make in the coming days. For now, we’ve agreed that it’s best we dig in here and defend ourselves until the winds shift. I hope your sister is as good as he thinks she is.”

“She is.” My stomach churned. “I just hope she’s all right.”

32

NOX

T
he road was quiet as I made my way toward Luid, which in the darkness had become a floating island of light, crowned by stars. I forced my mind to clear, free of memories, speculation, and plans. In time there was only the plodding of my feet, the almost nonexistent weight of my pack, and the wind at my back that pushed me onward even when I hesitated. I ran through my story over and over, seeking holes, solidifying everything so my answers would be ready.

As of that moment, Kel, Aren and Cassia had not saved me after I left my home town with those soldiers. Dragons had freed me when they’d attacked our party. I’d taken a dead soldier’s horse and belongings after the poor man was eaten. I’d been sentenced to death at home, so I had decided to take Lord Severn’s offer to come to Luid, though I’d been reluctant to do so at first.

Best to stick as close to the truth as I could, as Aren had said.

The city was farther off than I’d thought, or my legs more reluctant. I crossed the bridge over a wide, dry gully as the stars began to fade. The sun broke over the city before I reached it, blinding me as it sparkled off the ocean to the south in a dazzling display that would have been absolutely breathtaking on another day. I held my arm up to shield my eyes and kept walking, fighting to remain calm as I drew nearer to the city and my fate.

I came to the outer city first, a handful of buildings spaced out on either side of the wide road, dotted with the skeletons of dead oak trees. This had been part of the dark ocean on which the city’s lights had floated. A strange feeling crept over me, and it took a minute for me to realize it was an absence. I felt nothing here, no plants, no life, no potential. This place was dead and empty, and the thought that it might also be haunted crossed my mind. Tempted though I was to stop and peek in windows, I decided against it.

The sun continued to rise, and I took a good look at the city walls, which rose high above me, all gray stone with narrow window-slits cut into it at regular intervals. I stepped into the long shadows that seemed to reach toward me. This area, too, seemed far too quiet. Surely the city wouldn’t still be asleep. Though I liked to tell myself that the people of Luid were spoiled and useless, there had to be some up and about.