Prince's Fire (23 page)

A
s the
Soldier's Sweep
hove to outside the Tiasan harbor, Celeste stared, awestruck, at the first volcano she'd ever laid eyes on. She stood at the rail with Vitala, her face damp with the afternoon's fine drizzle, watching the mountain while the ship's signaler tried to contact the Inyan authorities. Inya had a strong navy. Their harbor was well defended with shore batteries and warships, and a lone Kjallan ship dared not enter without permission.

“It must be Mount Drav,” said Celeste. “Do you suppose it always looks like that?”

“I would think not,” said Vitala.

The mountain was shrouded in mist—or was that smoke? She couldn't tell from this distance; the mountain was inland, beyond the city of Tiasa. Red lines trailed down the mountain, glowing like the iridescent trails of fireworks. One thick ribbon of fire wound down the left-hand side of the mountain, forking in two places. Elsewhere, the fiery lines were slimmer, like glowing filaments, or pinpricks of red light. It was a beautiful sight, but some primal instinct within her screamed danger.

The ship's captain joined them at the rail. “We haven't been able to contact Prince Rayn.”

Celeste gripped the rail so hard, her fingers hurt.
Please don't let him be dead.
“Who did you talk to, and what did he say?”

“Some harbor official. He said Rayn was unavailable.”

She loosened her grip a little.
Unavailable
didn't sound like dead. “Can you talk to someone else? The Land Council, perhaps?”

“I was told they couldn't authorize our entering the harbor at this time, because Tiasa is in a state of emergency.”

Celeste turned to Mount Drav. “The volcano.”

“That was my assumption,” said the captain.

“You don't suppose we could just sail in?” suggested Vitala. “We're obviously not an attack fleet. Surely they won't open fire.”

“With respect, Empress,” said the captain, “we cannot take that chance. They would be foolish to fire upon us, since that would be an act of war. But our sailing in unauthorized could also be interpreted as an act of war.”

Vitala sighed. “We can't just heave to and wait. It's obvious the volcano isn't an immediate danger; look at all the Tiasans at the docks just going about their business. I don't see anyone panicking. I've a feeling the Land Council doesn't want us landing and assisting Rayn.”

“Contact them again,” said Celeste to the captain, “and ask for Magister Lornis this time.”

“I'll try that, Your Imperial Highness.”

“I'll go with you,” said Vitala. “See if I can talk some sense into someone.”

The captain and the empress departed, and Celeste returned her gaze to the volcano. If this was an eruption—and that seemed likely; what else could explain those glowing red lines?—Rayn might be up on the mountain right now. How tiny he must be in comparison to that red ribbon of lava. She could see the lava flow from here, but she certainly couldn't see anything as small as a person. She tried to guess where he might be. Near the top, where the ribbon began? Or perhaps at the bottom, diverting the tail end.

For half an hour she watched, shaking raindrops off her face. Then, behind her, someone began shouting orders, and the ship's crewmen swarmed into the tops. Vitala returned to the rail and said, “That was a good idea, to contact Magister Lornis. He's granted us authorization to anchor.”

A frisson of excitement ran through Celeste. She was about to set foot on Inya—Rayn's home country—for the very first time. Neither Lucien nor Florian had ever been here. She and Vitala would be the first Kjallan imperials to visit this country in decades.

Inya wasn't a single island but an archipelago. The island upon which the capital city of Tiasa sat was called Rul Linaran, which in literal Inyan translated to “island of people.” As the ship sailed into the harbor, she marveled at what a beautiful island Rul Linaran was. Despite the rain, the sea was brilliant blue and the beaches pale and sandy. Tiasan buildings clustered around the harbor with nary a space between them, like soldiers cozying up to a campfire. Some were built of pale stone and others of painted wood. Despite the lack of open space, plants were everywhere. Ivies climbed the walls, trees rose up alongside buildings to shade the streets, and flowering bushes hid in every nook.

Anchoring the ship took over an hour, during which time she waited impatiently, eager to see the city of Tiasa up close and to hear about Rayn. Had Zoe tried to attack him? Was he up on the mountain? Had his ratification vote taken place?

The sailors rowed her ashore in the company of Vitala, Patricus, and an escort of Legaciatti. Magister Lornis met them at the docks as they disembarked. The air smelled of dampness and flowers, and it wasn't even spring.

Lornis bowed first to the empress and then to Celeste. “You can't imagine how happy I am to see you.”

“Where's Rayn?” Celeste asked. “Is he all right?”

Vitala shot her a scolding look, and Celeste closed her mouth. This wasn't proper diplomatic etiquette.

“I apologize for our arriving unannounced and uninvited,” Vitala said to Lornis. “Thank you for allowing us to anchor.”

“The pleasure's all mine.” Lornis turned to Celeste. “Prince Rayn is up on the mountain with the Fireturners, controlling the lava flow. I'm sure he'll be ecstatic to see you when his work is done.”

Thank the gods he was safe—as safe as any man could be on an erupting volcano. But Celeste didn't worry overmuch about the mountain. Rayn was trained to handle that. Her real concern was Zoe. “How long will he be up there?”

“Days,” said Lornis. “It's no small feat, turning lava.”

Celeste gazed upon the glowing red ribbons on distant Mount Drav. “That's fire, isn't it? The glowing red.”

“It's stone that's so hot it melts and glows red,” said Lornis. “It sets fire to everything it touches. But you needn't worry. It's far away, and the Fireturners are adept at handling it.”

“Do you think I could go up on the mountain and watch them?” Then she realized how unreasonable a request that was. “I'm sorry; I shouldn't ask such a thing.”

“Actually, I'd love to see that myself, if it's possible,” said Vitala.

Lornis looked uncertain. “It may be too dangerous for spectators. I'll contact the base camp and ask how stable the flow is right now; perhaps we can arrange something. For now, please accompany me to the Tiasan Palace. We have rooms prepared for you, and once your needs have been seen to, we should discuss a few things.”

Celeste nodded. “I have urgent news for you. But I can't tell you here.” She didn't feel comfortable speaking about Zoe on the docks, where any bystander could listen in. Even so, Rayn needed to be warned as soon as possible.

•   •   •

Celeste had grown up in the Imperial Palace, easily the loveliest building in Kjall with its marble domes and gilt roofs, yet she was unprepared for the sight of the Tiasan Palace. It looked like a delicate piece of latticework. Everywhere Celeste turned, she saw windows and breezeways and open-air plazas. Her Kjallan eyes instantly picked out its vulnerabilities—the stately old trees whose branches afforded access to windows and balconies, the twining ivy that might allow an intruder to scale the walls. Inya had always possessed a strong navy. As an island nation, they feared no land invaders, and for that reason, perhaps, they had built their palace not for defense but to please the eye.

She was delighted to spot a stream flowing through the palace grounds. It snaked around the buildings, which were connected to one another by suspension bridges.

As she entered the palace, she realized the building was practical in at least one respect: the open, airy structure helped to keep it cool. Inya was a warm country—really, it was
hot
, even on a day when the sun wasn't shining. At home in Kjall, cold winters were the bigger problem, and the Imperial Palace had a system of underground heat-glows that kept it warm. No one had yet managed to invent a “cold-glow,” so the Inyan building's many openings were strategically placed to funnel in the island's prevailing breezes. Without them, the palace would have been unbearably stuffy. As it was, she found it pleasant and comfortable.

The palace was not a single building but a complex, with spires of all shapes and sizes jutting up around a large central building. She could make out no pattern to the arrangement of towers. Possibly they had just been added over the years. She thought of building sand castles on the beach as a girl, upending her bucket to mold tower after tower in an arrangement that, though it seemed random, nonetheless satisfied her sense of aesthetics. The Tiasan Palace was disorganized, yet its apparent lack of planning did not diminish its beauty.

This is a wild place,
she thought. Something about Tiasa exhilarated her.

Magister Lornis led them into the main building, where they entered an open-air gallery with a polished floor. To the left was a single hallway and to the right were two others. She smiled: not symmetrical.

Her companions paused as a group of men approached them from across the open gallery. Lornis stiffened at their approach, and she took his reaction to mean that these weren't friends.

“Your Imperial Majesty and Your Imperial Highness.” One of the men inclined his head. “My name is Worryn. I serve on the Inyan Land Council. Your visit is an unexpected honor.”

Worryn.
Celeste studied him warily. This man was a criminal. He had paid Bayard's enclave to assassinate Prince Rayn.

“Thank you for allowing us to anchor our ship,” said Vitala.

“I'm sorry for the confusion earlier. The situation is an awkward one,” said Worryn. “I'm sure you noticed we're experiencing an emergency. Mount Drav has erupted, and while hosting you would be a great honor for our country, Tiasa is unsafe for visitors at this time. My conscience demands that I send you back to your ship.”

“We accept the risk of the volcano,” said Vitala. “Don't your Fireturners direct the lava away from the city?”

“Leadership is wanting among the Fireturners,” said Worryn. “I cannot be certain they will succeed.”

Celeste suppressed an eye roll. If Worryn truly feared that the lava flow would reach Tiasa, she guessed he'd be the first to leave town. But he wasn't evacuating, and neither were the others. The townsfolk were going about their business, apparently with total confidence that the Fireturners would keep them safe.

“Our business here is urgent,” said Vitala. “I'm sure the Fireturners have the situation under control.”

Worryn tilted his head. “What is the nature of your business?”

Vitala glanced at Celeste, who spoke up. “When Prince Rayn visited Kjall, we were in the middle of some negotiations regarding a trade agreement between our countries. He had to return home unexpectedly, leaving our talks incomplete. We are here to continue them.”

“How interesting.” The expression on Worryn's face didn't change, and Celeste couldn't tell if he was indifferent or openly hostile toward this proposal.

“If you'll excuse us,” Lornis broke in smoothly, “our imperial visitors are weary from their journey.”

Worryn remained unreadable. He bowed to Vitala and Celeste. “When you are recovered from your travels, we'll discuss this further.”

Celeste hoped he didn't make good on that threat. She wanted nothing to do with the man.

Lornis led them to a spiral staircase, and they began to ascend.

“I've placed you in the Hibiscus Tower,” he said. “It's not where visitors of your stature would normally be housed—typically you'd be in that hallway on the left.” He pointed. “But Rayn and I are in the tower right now, and given the unstable political situation we're in, I think it's safest for you to be near us.”

“I agree,” said Vitala.

So did Celeste. She wanted to be close to Rayn, not to that treacherous snake. They ascended another flight and walked down a pillared hallway with open archways along the sides. The hallway opened up into a balcony. Before her was one of the suspension bridges she'd seen earlier. From the ground, the bridge had looked appealing, a little arc in the shape of a smile. She had not anticipated what it would look like from up here. The bridge curved steeply downward. It had handrails, but no supports at all to keep it upright.

She halted uncertainly at the edge. “Is this safe?”

Lornis walked out onto the bridge. “Absolutely safe, Your Imperial Highness.”

She followed with a couple of tentative steps. The bridge wasn't stable; it shifted and jounced beneath her feet. Lornis didn't seem to mind. He strode forward with no concern for the bridge's movement. She decided she was being silly to worry about this, and trotted across the wooden slats to catch up to him.

Her room in the Hibiscus Tower was lovely, though a little stuffy and woefully insecure compared with her rooms in the Imperial Palace. Her bedroom opened through a double archway onto a balcony overlooking a garden. The Inyans seemed not to use window glass; their windows were artfully shaped openings exposing them directly to the weather, and potentially to enemies. She was several stories up and saw no trees offering access to her balcony—that was a relief. Nor did the ivy climb this high.

Vitala joined Celeste on the balcony and frowned. “We're going to have to put Legaciatti up here.”

“We have guards patrolling the grounds,” offered Lornis.

“Not enough for imperial security,” said Vitala.

Lornis nodded. “Do as you deem necessary. Inya is a smaller country and not as security-minded as Kjall.”

It wasn't just that Inya was smaller, Celeste thought. It was different in character. These rooms would never have been built in such an open way if political assassinations and coups were common here. While she accepted the need for placing Legaciatti to make up for the room's defensive shortcomings, she envied Inya for not needing such precautions, at least most of the time.