Her people, though? They dealt with her, lived under her laws, and saw her regularly. This was not a city of suffering. They prospered, albeit in a different way than the northern kingdoms. She was loved, maybe more than my own mother had been in Thrais, and I couldn’t help but admire her.
In that thought lay heavy guilt. Instead of forming my own judgments, I had listened to rumors and falsehoods. Even on the occasions that I had defended her, I had been all too willing to stay away for fear of the lies. Harmful words shouldn’t be whispered in the ears of children. She stood there, eyes twinkling in the orange glow of firelight, and I couldn’t imagine a more genuine, caring ruler in all the kingdoms. Even my own.
I could learn much from Queen Audri of Kalum, if I gave her the chance.
“What do you think of Kathryn, Drask, and Lucian?” I asked her, keeping my voice low.
Her eyes widened at the question, but she considered as she passed a weighty purse to the firebreather and sword swallower—a tip, for performing for her. Their eyes lit up before they dipped into bows, but she waved them off. Her voice was barely a whisper when she finally said, “I think Kathryn and Drask are set in their ideals. They’re not open minded to change, but I don’t think that makes them inherently bad people. I think Lucian is the product of being an only child, with parents who encouraged him to take what he wants.” I nodded in reply and she added, “Why?”
“Because . . .” I took a long moment to choose my words, careful when I finally said, “Because lately I feel like I don’t know much of anything, or anyone. And today I think I’ve learned that there’s merit to letting a person show you who they are, before you judge them from someone else’s eyes. Misunderstanding, hatred, jealousy, guilt . . . they’re ugly excuses to make an innocent person seem lesser.”
Audri bowed her head with a small sigh. “I appreciate that, Natylia. But don’t think worse of your families. Human nature is competitive. We always have to be the best, always have to be better than the next.”
“But you can choose what to do with that.” I tugged at a loose thread on my cloak. “You can be angry over petty things and choose not to attack the other person. You can be jealous, irrational, and choose to put the emotions aside. You can feel guilt and learn to apologize. My mother, my father, Kathryn, Drask . . . they did none of that.”
“And that, my dear, is why children are not their parents.” Audri placed her hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Choose not to hold their shortcomings against them. I’m full of them myself. But, at least, I hope you see that Kalum isn’t all that has been said. That I’m not, in fact, a demon of the south.” She paused. “Unless there’s snow. Then Phelix might care to argue that demon bit.”
I laughed, but the emotion in her eyes was raw—appreciation and relief. “Thank you,” I said. “Your city really is beautiful.”
Audri grinned. “It’s the pumpkins.”
***
Days passed. Two, to be precise. Audri, her family, and her staff were kind, but all of us grew restless quickly. Her healers begged that we stay as long as possible and give ourselves more time to heal. Nearly drowning wasn’t an easy thing to recover from, apparently. So, we gave them what time we could manage, but the evening of the second day we packed our bags.
Audri sent word the third morning, asking us to at least attend breakfast before we departed. For all she had done for us, an hour or two more was a small sacrifice. We bathed, dressed, and met her in the massive dining hall. Tables ran down the center in a straight line, framed by wooden chairs with unbelievably soft cushions.
Phelix sat at the far end of the table, Audri to his right, Scarlet to his left. The princess didn’t look very much like either of her parents in particular—her skin was slightly lighter brown than her mother’s, her eyes neither hazel nor gold flecked with blue and green, but instead a vibrant crimson color. Her hair was bright red, a color eerily similar to freshly spilled blood, a trick I would wager her mother had accomplished in her alchemical studies.
For the first time in days, Andimir’s expression sparked to life when he caught sight of her, but whether his interest was personal or curiosity, I didn’t know. I needed to ask him what had been dogging his steps. Whenever I tried, he always managed to be elsewhere—most often, hiding from me with Fetian.
In either case, Scarlet was soft spoken on the rare occasions she did speak, much like her father. We kept the discussion light, though I knew Audri had filled her husband in on our conversation in town by the way he kept looking at me with muted approval.
Still, the marshland wasn’t far, and I could almost feel the minutes ticking past. Jyn felt the same way, I could tell. Meryn had been content to peruse Audri’s laboratorium, but Jyn was antsy, pacing hallways and unintentionally intimidating the guards. He wanted to be proactive. I didn’t blame him. We had been thrown from our palace, and we wanted it back.
But without the Scepter, we were going into this battle unarmed.
Especially if Valdis really was involved.
“. . . appearance in Thrais. Natylia?”
I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. “My apologies. I was lost in thought. What did you say?”
Audri smiled. “One of my spies returned this morning. Eurybia has been spotted terrorizing the southern islands. Flooding the shores, delaying ships. Sneaking around in human form. Seems she might think the Scepter is there, because she’s almost certainly searching for something. But my spy brought other information, too. Lucian made an appearance in Thrais, less than a fortnight ago.”
“That makes no sense,” Jyn interjected. “Annalea was supposed to go to Wydus. He has to know Natylia isn’t in Thrais.”
“Why was Annalea supposed to go to Wydus?” Phelix asked, straightening in his chair.
I looked around the table. The Kalum royals exchanged a simultaneous, confused glance, but they were watching me intently when I said, “You don’t know? Why do you think I left my palace?”
“To hunt the Scepters,” Audri said slowly.
“The Scepters were only part of the reason.” I swallowed. Decision time. I glanced at Jyn, Camion, Meryn, Andimir. When each in turn gave their version of approval, I leveled my eyes on Audri. “The Council is dead. Murdered, if what Devlyn told me was correct.”
Color drained from Audri’s cheeks. “What do you mean the Council is dead?”
“All of them,” I whispered. “Wulfric was at the palace when the news arrived, but I didn’t see him afterward.”
Phelix shot Audri a look, but the queen shook her head. When she caught my eye, she said, “Wulfric wouldn’t dare take out the rest of the Council. He doesn’t have the nerve.”
“Then who?” Jyn asked, a muscle twitching along the line of his jaw.
“Who sent you from the palace?” Audri asked coolly.
“Devlyn.”
She frowned. “That makes sense, though. Captain of the Guard, and good friend to the family . . . he would want to get you girls out at the first hint of danger. And he sent Annalea to Wydus?”
“Yes.”
The queen inhaled, fingers tapping on the table. “Okay. That all fits. He had to suspect you wouldn’t follow your sister, but he also knew she would be safest with your strongest ally. Did you tell him anything about where you were going?”
“We didn’t know where we were going, until we could guess the Scepter locations with moderate accuracy,” Camion said.
“I can’t believe the Council is dead,” Audri murmured. Phelix put a hand to her shoulder. “I can’t believe that anyone besides Valdis could pull off such a thing, either. There were powerful people in the Council. Magic wielders. Trained soldiers. And, of course, he would leave Wulfric to take the fall. That man wouldn’t have the character to convince anyone of his innocence, maybe even himself.”
“So, you’re saying Valdis is in my palace?” My voice was calmer than it should have been for the amount of fire growing under my skin.
“I’m saying
Valdis has been in your palace, even if he is no longer,” the queen replied.
“Who—”
Phelix cut Jyn off with a raised hand. “You might never know, don’t you see? He could be anyone. He could be one of your most trusted serving staff. He could be anyone with enough clearance to come and go as he pleased. He could be—”
“Lucian,” I joked, with a huffed laugh. Jyn lifted his eyes to mine, frown deepening.
“Ah,” Phelix said with a small smile. “I did hear about the . . . problems . . . the prince has been giving you.”
“He’s a pig,” Scarlet chirped. Jyn nodded in approval. Camion pressed his lips together, the only hint of his opinion as he firmly stared at the plate in front of him.
“That may be, but he’s still heir to the throne of Wydus. If you think he could be in trouble—” Audri shivered. “That’s one Titan with far too much power.”
“Where’s Nahara when you need her?” Meryn muttered.
The king smirked at the sarcasm in her tone. “I don’t know how we could help if the prince was taken or being controlled, though. Valdis’ main powers lie in Necromancy.”
A chill raced up my spine at that. “Lucian didn’t seem . . . dead.”
“He’s likely fine. I can’t see a Titan of that level bothering with a teenage boy. Now his father, Drask? A king would be a far more profitable target.”
I swallowed back the rising panic. “Drask?”
“That’s not any more comforting,” Camion said.
“No, not particularly.” Audri paused. “I know you’re already being cautious, but I would search for the signs before you trust even known allies. The Risen usually have dark, almost black irises, and their eyes are usually bloodshot.”
“How do you know this?” Jyn asked.
“Mother spends a lot of time in her alchemy laboratorium.” Scarlet winced. “The things she’s discovered accidentally are far more disturbing than her actual experiments.”
I flipped a glance between the two of them, wide eyed.
Audri waved a hand, unconcerned. “My point is, be careful. All of you. You never know what’s out there.”
“Like the Shadows,” grumbled Jyn.
“Always possible,” Phelix agreed. “If Valdis doesn’t have them on another task, I’d almost guarantee they’re searching for you. Or maybe they’re tailing you already, and none of us have seen them. They’re very good, after all.”
“That’s a disturbing thought,” Andimir said.
Several heads turned in his direction.
Realization slipped through me, a knot climbing my throat. My words caught when I said, “So do you think Annalea—”
“I’ll send my spies after her,” Audri said, eyes soft. “If she’s not in Wydus, we’ll retrieve her. If she is there, we’ll make sure she stays safe.”
“Thank you,” I said. The thought of Annalea roaming around with only Raul, and the Shadows around . . . My fears for her safety definitely overruled the trust issues I was sorting out.
“Once you retrieve the Scepter, I think you should return to your palace,” Phelix said. Meryn opened her mouth to protest, but he continued. “You need to know if Valdis is still there. If he’s wreaking havoc or if he’s stolen anything of value. Even things that may seem insignificant. Stash the Scepter if you want, leave it with one of your companions in the woods. Whatever you need to do. But if Valdis had any sway over you being pushed from your palace, there’s something there he wants. Staking your claim over your throne might be a risk, but the payoff could be worth any potential cost.”
“My kingdom hates me,” I muttered. “If I come back and throw everyone out of the palace—”
“You don’t need to do anything so impulsive,” Audri said. “Make a brief statement while you search.” She glanced at her husband, who inclined his head a fraction. “Wherever you’re going, we can meet you in Thrais if you want the support. If you think we can aid your travels sooner, we’re willing to accompany you now. If you wish.”
I stared at her, considered her offer. If she was sincere, the offer was kind. Too kind, considering how hesitantly I had treated her for the past few days. She seemed to understand though, and maybe the level of distrust between our kingdoms explained a lot of my wariness.
No matter what the case may be, if her offer of alliance was genuine, we needed allies on land who were prepared to take on the Titans—especially if Eurybia decided to press inland.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “Thank you. But no. We’ll make much faster time on our own, and more bodies will draw more attention.”
“When will you leave?”
I hesitated, so Jyn spoke. “Late this afternoon.”
“Do you know where you’re going?” Audri asked. Scarlet paused, her fork held above her plate as she tilted her head to listen.
“The marsh,” Meryn said. “I’m not entirely sure where, though. We could be wasting more time.”
“No, you’re right,” Scarlet said. I turned my attention to her, narrowing my eyes. She tapped the side of her head. “I have a sense about things. Like my mother. I’m not often wrong.”
Audri leaned back in her chair, fidgeting with a bangle on her wrist. “Emeryn would be one of the few places a magical item of that value wouldn’t be stumbled upon. No one accidentally ventures into the marshland. You do know what’s down there?”
Meryn pursed her lips. She knew.
Slowly, I answered, “We’ve kind of let the wind guide us.”
“With no precautions?” Audri’s eyes widened. “How did you survive the Skyva?”
“You know about the Skyva?” Jyn asked, frowning.
“Of course we know about the Skyva. They were a plague to Araenna once. Before humans were as settled as they are now. There are still nests around, but they’re few and far between. Myrdin lured those ones in when he locked the Imber Scepter away. Did you think they were down there by coincidence?”
I scanned Audri’s face. Utter sincerity. She was serious, and she knew vastly more about that Scepter than we had dared share with anyone.
“There was a man,” I admitted, “in Lytalian. He said he hunted nests of them. We assumed—”
“That they’d created the nest down there naturally,” Phelix said, tugging at his short beard. “After so much time passed, they might have. I’m assuming the man you met was Fel? Arrogant, self-inflated—”
“He’s not that bad, dear,” Audri interrupted. At his disgruntled expression, she added, “Fel likes to step on people’s toes. Even if they’re royalty. If he found the Skyva down there, nothing of value was left behind either. Between his own looting and the companions he drags along with him, they’ll have picked the place clean.”
“We took the Scepter. Or the fake,” I said.
Audri froze. “There was a fake?”
“You didn’t know?”
“No,” she said. Once again, I could discern no lie in her words. “That seems like a lot of effort to throw you off track, though.” Audri paused a moment, then added, “I have a contact in Thrais. That’s how I knew you found Skyva, though my person wasn’t aware of what they were, only their descriptions. But my contact never mentioned the fake Scepter.”
“Some contact,” Jyn muttered.
Audri turned sharp eyes on him. “If this contact omitted the information, there was a reason. This person has been a dear friend for a long time.”
A bottle clinked, cutting through the tense silence. Andimir blushed sheepishly as he poured himself more wine, grinning as he said, “Apologies.”
The queen started to wave him off, then paused. “Can I ask you a question?”
Andimir’s brow lifted.
“Do I know you?” Audri asked. “I can’t shake the feeling I’ve seen you before all of this.”
“I frequented the Palace of Thrais when I was younger,” Andimir said.
“He was a close companion of myself and Lucian,” I added. “He’s of the LeVane family.�
�
“I remember you.” Phelix paused thoughtfully. “Whatever happened to your parents? You all seemed to vanish, if I remember right.”
“Moved North to Morland,” Andimir admitted. “My parents were paid a great deal of money and offered a sizable piece of land.”
Audri snorted. “Sounds like just the sort of thing Drask would have done, to get you out of Lucian’s way. Wouldn’t want any competition around for his dear son.”
Her joke fell heavy on the table. Andimir and I exchanged a glance. Wydus had been desperate for our marriage, for a more solid alliance. Paying Andimir’s parents to leave, though? I didn’t want to believe they’d be so underhanded.
“I’m sure Drask wouldn’t do anything of the sort.” Phelix cleared his throat. “We’ll get you equipped for the marsh. Are you sure you’re prepared for what’s down there?” He again focused on me, and I tried to stay unflinching under his scrutiny. After a moment, he said, “I mean, truly prepared? No matter the cost?”
The words blasted ice through my veins, but I inclined my head. “We have to be. Unless you’re willing to go in my stead? I’m not sure I would leave me to run your kingdom, though.”
“If I could, fair queen, I would.” Phelix smiled, but his eyes were sad. “All we can do is offer our aid.”
Audri cleared her throat. “I have a gift . . .” She waved at one of her serving staff, who stepped forward with a carved, wooden box. The queen’s smile broadened as she pushed the box into Jyn’s hands. “For you.”
A dark brow lifted, his expression wary as he appraised the carvings across the top and sides. He lifted the lid, lips parting slightly when he caught sight of what lay within. Before laying the top aside, he slid a look in my direction. Approval––or astonishment––crossed his face. Camion leaned closer to him, his expression full of bald curiosity.
Inside, nestled on soft black velvet, were two daggers. Long and sleek, the blades slightly angled. Elegant oval cutouts ran along the upper edge. Audri slid dark leather straps across the table as well—a sheathe, made to sit across the lower back, and fitted perfectly to the two weapons.
Tellus Page 16