Dragonoak (42 page)

“I, ah. My leg, my leg was hurting...” Claire said slowly,
clearly, answering a question only she'd heard. “It was hurting, so
I—
well
. It
doesn't hurt anymore.”

She
placed her quill down too hard and it slid off the table. A second
after it hit the floor she scrunched up her face, moved as though
to lean to the side, and I darted forward to pick it up for her. I
placed it by the inkwell and she watched me intently, then abruptly
turned her head, a hundred miles away from me.

“Are you
alright, Claire?” I asked softly, kneeling at her side.

Claire
turned away, exhaling heavily through her nose.

“Am I
alright...” she mumbled, bringing up what remained of her right
hand, pressing a finger to her cheek. “Am I...”

I wasn't
oblivious to what was happening. I could smell spirits in the air
and on her breath, and Claire's leg – the injured one – was
trembling beneath the desk.

“Shall I
get Sen?” I asked, completely at a loss for what to do.

Claire
murmured something about hummingbirds, and her head tilted
forwards.

I backed
out of the tower slowly, but once I was outside, I set off at a
sprint. The pane district wasn't easy to miss; the cabins were at
least twice as big as any others in Orinhal, and the humans were in
the habit of ensuring newcomers knew where not to go. I rushed from
cabin to cabin, glanced at the sigils, and pounded on the door with
a hummingbird hanging above it.

Akela
answered, not Sen.

“Northwood! I am not expecting you, not at this hour. Come
in, come in. We are drinking tea! You are knowing that Sen has many
birds, yes, because I—”

“Sorry,
I need to talk to...” Sen poked her head out of the kitchen and I
caught her eye, saying, “Sen, can you come with me?
Please.”

I didn't
have to ask twice. Sen pushed past Akela, and set off at a pace I
couldn't match. Akela looked at me, puzzled, and I shrugged, as
though it was nothing.

“Well. I
suppose I am keeping an eye on the birds,” Akela said, waving as I
rushed after Sen.

By the
time I reached the tower, Sen was already knelt by Claire's side.
Claire was slouching with her elbow against the arm of her chair,
face buried in her hand, muffling her words. Sen was endlessly
patient but nothing short of pained to see Claire like that, and I
hovered in the doorway, watching as Sen hooked her fingers around
Claire's arm and Claire batted her away.

“Marshal, please. Y-you should get to bed,” Sen said gently,
and Claire turned to her, teeth bared, looking as though she might
snap at her, or worse.

All of
that anger drained from her the moment she met Sen's eyes, and I
swallowed a lump in my throat as Claire too did. Reaching out, she
wrapped her fingers around Sen's horn, not objecting when Sen put
an arm around her waist and helped her to her feet.

“Oh,
Sen...” Claire said softly, resting her head against her chest.
“One day you shall leave me too, shan't you?”

“D-don't
talk like that Marshal,” Sen replied, leading her towards the
stairs. “You'll feel better once you've slept, I'm
sure...”

Sen
glanced over at me from the foot of the stairs, and tried to
smile.

I closed
the door behind me, knowing I'd only be in the way. Claire had Sen,
the farm didn't need me and Ghost didn't want me around; perhaps
I'd be better off in Kyrindval, with the pane and my
brother.

I
crawled back into bed, nails diug into the back of my wrist beneath
the covers, and when sleep came to me, it came in uneven, jittery
spurts. A restless hour of sleep felt like a day's worth of
dreaming, until I attempted to get up, causing exhaustion to
reclaim me. The sun rose and still I didn't move. The thought of
Kouris arriving soon was the only thing keeping me afloat, and even
that one glimmer of hope turned sour whenever it occurred to me
that she should've arrived already, that she should've made it to
Orinhal yesterday or the day before.

I wasted
the day away, not wanting to see anyone, not wanting to do
anything. Akela offered me lunch and I did nothing but grunt, and
the next time she came into the room, long hours later, I rolled
onto my side, back to her.

“I am
understanding that this is not a good day, yes, but you are wanting
to get out of bed now, little Northwood. Kouris, she is arriving!”
Akela declared.

I bolted
upright, apathy rushing out of me before I had the chance to be
sceptical.

“What?
Really?” I asked regardless, and Akela grinned.

“I am
speaking to her by the gate! Hah, she is not believing how we are
getting here. Her face, hopefully she is still making it for you to
see. Go, go! I am thinking you are missing her, yes?”

I didn't
have to be told twice. It was harder to be afraid when Kouris was
with me, and surely she'd have room for me in a cabin of her own,
out in the pane district. I rushed through Orinhal, regretting
having declined Akela's offer of lunch, but not about to waste any
time searching for anything in the kitchen. It wasn't hard to find
her. She'd headed into the centre of town, rising above the masses
milling around the tower, and my heart pounded in my chest at the
sight of her.

I couldn't stop grinning. It didn't matter that someone
murmured
necromancer
as I pushed past them.

“Kouris!” I called out, giving her fair warning before I
crashed into her.

I hit
her chest, and before I could wrap my arms around her, her hands
were on my shoulders, easing me back.

Kouris
stared down at me, eyes blazing, as though more than a handful of
days had come between us. Everything I'd had to say went quiet, and
her gaze burrowed into me as though I understood what was roiling
through her mind.

“What did you
do
?” she asked accusingly, desperately.

“What
did I... what do you mean?”

“The
dragon, yrval. Akela told me what you did to it.”

She'd
leant in close to hiss her words out in a whisper, and they grazed
across my skin. Carefully knocking her hands back, I stepped away
from her, arms around myself.

“I-I
helped
him. He'd been killed, and I wanted to give him another
chance to—”

“How? How could you do that?” Kouris asked, anger simmering
into hurt. “This has all happened before. Fifteen hundred years
ago. I shouldn't have to be telling you that, yrval. You
know
what they did, how
that hurt the pane.”

I opened my mouth but no sound came out. Of course I knew the
stories of necromancers raising pane and dragons for their armies –
Kondo-Kana had told me as much herself – but this wasn't like that.
I'd wanted to help Oak, not hurt others. I'd given him back the
life stolen from him and patched him up as best I could; never had
I thought to
use
him.

“It's
not like that...” I managed.

“Not
like that? Yrval, what are people going to be thinking if they see
that dragon? Do you really think that the humans weren't blaming
the pane for what happened, when the dragons first came down? Do
you really think they're not gonna use this as some kinda proof,
that things aren't gonna get worse for us?”

In all the time I'd known her, Kouris had never thought any
different of me because of my necromancy, and yet there she was, so
wholly disappointed in me that she may as well have taken her claws
to my chest and cracked my ribs open. I hadn't planned any of this,
hadn't wanted to cause any more problems for the pane; it'd
just
happened,
and
she had to understand
that.

“Kouris!
I was only helping him. You should've seen him. He was a fhord, but
he was so, so young, and they'd put a spear in his side. I didn't
know what else to do.”

“You should've
left
him there,” Kouris growled, voice rising. "Let
him rest with some dignity."

People
were starting to pay attention to us, and not purely because of
what we were. A gap formed in the crowd. The people were intent on
giving a pane her space, but it wasn't hard to tell that we were
arguing about something worth listening in on. The braver of them
edged closer while others stared plainly at us, and all I wanted
was to be gone, far from here and back in Canth.

“I
couldn't. I wasn't thinking, I—”

“You
have
to be thinking with power like that,” Kouris said in a low
rumble, and the devastation I felt at being confronted by her faded
to anger in less than a second. She didn't care who heard us. She
was so wrapped up in what I'd done that she was acting as though we
were still in Mahon, as though she could say anything around
anyone. “I'd thought you'd know better than this. I thought you'd
know how this would hurt the pane.”

I
couldn't comprehend why she was saying these things to me. What did
she want of me? Did she expect me to find Oak and return him fully
to death once more? The only thing clear to me was that all the
time we'd known one another, all the months we'd lived to together,
added up to nothing; she couldn't overlook this single
thing.

“How
I've
hurt the pane?” I snapped at her, hands balled into fists. I
was more upset than I was afraid, and couldn't think clearly enough
to measure my words. “What about you, Kouris? You
killed
. You gave the
whole of Asar all the proof they needed to turn against the pane!
You're not... you're not even one of them, not really. You live and
work and sleep with humans. You don't look after the dragons, and
you don't get to tell me that I've done something
wrong
.”

It was
too much. Even as I spoke the words, I knew they were too much;
that I couldn't take them back. Kouris' eyes went wide and her face
paled, but it wasn't me she was looking at. The tower doors were
open, and Claire had stepped out to see what the growing turmoil
was about. Ash followed her out and Sen stood behind them, holding
the door open.

“Oh,
yrval...” she murmured, not taking her eyes off Claire as her ears
fell.

She
reached for me, only now willing to offer me comfort, finally
realising that I'd needed her more than ever these past few days. I
flinched at her touch, causing her to draw her hand
back.

“Leave,”
I said bluntly, and the worst thing was that she did.

I set off in the opposite direction, determined to lose
myself in the crowd. I made it five paces before charging into
someone, and the crowd seemed to spread out and try to confine me
all at once. I was pushed from one person to the next amidst a
rising murmur of
necromancer,
necromancer,
torn apart by a sea of bodies
until Claire slammed the tip of her cane against the ground and
said, “
Enough
.”

There
wasn't a soul who dared to disobey her. The crowd broke apart,
space pulsing around me, and my vision and thoughts cleared; they
were people, just people. They weren't simply arms reaching out,
trying to tear away parts of me.

Trembling, I caught Claire's gaze. She tilted her head
towards the empty space next to her and with my gaze burning into
the ground, I rushed to her side.

“But
Marshal!” someone cried out. “That's the necromancer, that
is.”

“I am
aware of that fact, thank you,” Claire said bluntly, meeting their
gaze. She challenged the whole of Orinhal and not once thought of
lying about what I was. “And she has a name. No harm shall come to
Rowan, lest you wish to answer to me. I would recommend that you
continue on with your business, for having her here will do nothing
to impact the routine and stability of your lives. We did not break
apart Kastelir in order to cling to its old, brutal laws when it
suits us.”

The
crowd had grown since I'd tried to push through it. The Marshal
being outside of the tower was enough to draw people's interest,
and the fact that a necromancer was by her side was enough to
secure it. None of them knew how to react. They respected Claire on
a deep, unshakable level, but I was still a necromancer, still
enough to make them question her judgement.

“How'd you know she's not a spy? You know what they're saying
about Agados, and how the King has a...
you know
,” someone else dared to
speak up, stood squarely behind two people taller than
himself.

“Stop
concerning yourselves with rumours about Agados. Thus far, they
have not made a single move against us. Even if the King of Agados
had an army of necromancers, he has proven that he is more than
intent on staying behind his walls. Worry about Rylan instead,”
Claire said sharply.

Disquiet
rushed through the crowd, and seeing that they were far from
convinced, Claire began to pace back and forth.

“Then,
if I may, a question: who here has been harmed by necromancy?
Directly harmed, by a necromancer themselves. Not merely scared by
vicious hearsay,” Claire said, and patiently waited for an
answer.