Tellus

by Tyffany Hackett

  “Paid?” Andimir asked. He shot looks at each of us. “Who is this man?”

  “He tried to kill Nat at her coronation ball,” Meryn said. Her voice was deceptively calm for the way she eyed the stranger.

  "He what? Why was he released then?" When Meryn shrugged, the ease that was a staple of Andimir's expression tightened. His nostrils flared and he rounded on the man. “One failure wasn’t enough to learn your lesson?”

  “How was I to know you’d be wandering in the middle of bandit territory? Or that this one, with his hero complex, would still be alive?” The man scoffed, jerking his chin upward at Jyn, causing the blade to bite into his throat.

  Jyn’s eyes narrowed. “Had to make sure I said goodbye.”

  Camion took a step forward. I stepped up beside him and laid a calming hand on his shaking arm. “Of all the places you could be in the entire world, why are you here, right now?” he asked.

  “I could ask the same of you, boy. Do you know how furious Fentyn is that you ran off without a word? After all he’s done for you?”

  “I couldn’t care less,” Camion snapped. But he cared. I saw the wince at the corners of his eyes. Shouldering my bow, I shoved my arrow back into the quiver and took a step forward, then another, until I was right in front of the man. Jyn stiffened, tightening his grip. The man frowned.

  “What do you want?” I asked. “What was worth throwing your life away for?”

  “Valdis will see me rewarded in the Nether.”

  “The Ancient of the Nether hired you to kill one of the royals in Araenna?” Andimir’s tone was skeptical.

  “No, the Titan with power over the Nether hired him to kill one of the royals,” Jyn said. “And judging by how utterly incompetent this man has been, it’s more of a warning than an actual threat.”

  “What do we do with him?” Camion asked.

  “Finish what I started at the coronation,” Jyn growled, the blade pressing more firmly into the man’s throat. “I’ll be back.”

  “Wait!” I said, and Jyn hesitated, brows pulling together. I spoke to the stranger. “You’ve met Valdis? In person?”

  He inclined his head, confusion passing over his face.

  “What does he look like?”

  The stranger’s eyes twinkled in delight. Then he started laughing. Soft at first, then louder, until tears streamed down his cheeks. When he opened them again, they were no longer blue. Fear boiled hot through my veins. Dark irises had replaced their vibrant color, red veins growing darker by the second. “My master doesn’t answer to you and neither do I.”

  Jyn’s grip tightened on the man’s arm but the Risen shoved him off, catching Jyn by surprise. He pulled a short knife from inside his coat, swinging for Jyn’s throat.

  My friend dodged the blade, swinging one of his own. I yanked my bow free and loosed an arrow. The Risen snatched it from the air, snapping the shaft in half. I pulled another as Andimir slammed his hilt against the Risen’s head. The Risen spun around angrily, clawing at Andimir with nails that had extended into claws. Andimir jumped backward. Jyn slammed the hilts of his daggers into the man’s head.

  The Risen dropped, twitching for a moment before he stilled.

  “Did you kill him?” I asked.

  “No.” Andimir leaned forward, examining the man’s chest. “He’s still breathing.”

  “I’ll take care of him.” Jyn said. He grabbed the Risen roughly, dragging him into the trees.

  Andimir shuffled his feet nervously. “Shouldn’t we stop him? Isn’t this technically murder?”

  “He was an agent of Valdis,” I murmured. “He was Risen.”

  “Besides, according to the law, he should already be dead,” Camion muttered. I was surprised by the ice in his voice. “If he had succeeded in hurting you again,” he said to me, “I would have done it myself. I couldn’t help the first time. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “They don’t seem very strong,” Meryn observed.

  “No, but he was also intoxicated,” I offered. “Imagine if his senses had been clear.”

  Camion frowned. “Imagine if he hadn’t revealed himself.”

  “Do you think Valdis has more—”

  Thundering hoof beats cut off my response, the sound echoing through the trees. Our horses danced, spooked, and tugged on the reins in Andimir’s hand. Jyn was back before the riders reached us, a light smattering of blood spread across his front. He frowned at the incoming trio, arms crossed over his chest.

  Chestnut hair glinted in the beams of sunlight leaking through the trees above. Even from this distance I saw those yellow-toned eyes flash when they landed on Andimir.

  “Well this is unexpected. Come searching for the rabble and find . . .” Lucian gestured at the group with an expression of disgust. The pair of guards at his flanks exchanged a glance.

  “Then please continue, don’t let us stand in your way,” Jyn drawled, stepping out of his path.

  The prince didn’t answer, dropping from his horse. He spared a peek in my direction, but Andimir was his target. Lucian’s shoulders rolled back, neck cracking as he said, “So. You do live.”

  “I do.” Andimir’s eyes narrowed.

  “You couldn’t send word that you were alive? I thought we meant more to you than that, Andimir. Especially Natylia.” Lucian scowled. “But I guess that doesn’t matter, does it?” He rounded on me, scanning my form. His frown grew at the cut in my leathers, at the bloodstains I couldn’t wash out. At the scars visible below my rolled sleeves. Camion side-stepped in front of me, an attempt to block his view. The prince sighed and shot another look at Andimir. “Doesn’t this frustrate you?”

  “Doesn’t what frustrate me?”

  “This. Them.” Lucian gestured at me and Camion. Jyn stepped up to my other side, his chest and shoulders trembling with rage. Today wasn’t the day to push him.

  “Why would Nat’s happiness frustrate me, Lucian?” Andimir relaxed his expression, smoothing his face into tolerant boredom. A parent humoring a child’s temper. His hand lingered too near his sword for me to believe he was truly comfortable, though.

  “Because this could have been you, Andimir. He’s taking everything from you. You’re nobility, and he’s stealing your birthright,” Lucian growled.

  “Is he though?” Andimir asked, the edge back in his voice. “I wasn’t aware Natylia was property.” When Lucian stammered, Andimir added, “In either case, I left. And I didn’t do enough to fix what was broken afterward. But I don’t think this is actually about me, Lucian.”

  “And what do you think this is about?”

  “I think you’re angry she humiliated you in front of two kingdoms worth of people. That she rejected you, insulted you, and you’re too proud to admit you deserved every word.” Andimir took a step forward, causing Lucian to freeze. His guards dismounted. “And the fact that this is the first matter you bring up on seeing her again? Proves how petty and unworthy of her you really are.”

  I looped my arm through Camion’s. Fury flickered in Lucian’s eyes at the gesture, but I said, “What are you even doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.” His words were direct, but his tone had softened. Jealousy would destroy him, if he let it, but some of the old Lucian still peered through. “You were supposed to go north, Natylia. To Wydus. Why are you here?”

  “I’m not answering until you explain,” I said quietly. My fingers tightened on Camion’s arm. He glanced down, concern etched across his features. I loosened my grip before he focused on Lucian again, waiting, while the prince glared daggers into him.

  “Devlyn sent word ahead of you. You were to stay with us till your palace was safe. But when neither of you arrived, father sent me to Thrais to investigate. Wulfric is long gone. Your palace is in chaos and your town is in uproar. Devlyn is in a frenzy trying to find you, and he has no men to spare if he’s going to keep your palace safe.”

  “But why are you here?” I demanded.

  He
frowned. “I don’t know. Not really. Father heard about the problems with Thrais, and said you were his responsibility. Rumor held that you’d been seen in the far south; so I came all the way here, risking Kalum’s anger, because my father told me not to return unless I’d found you.” He paused to take a breath, eyes narrowing. “I really hope you have a good excuse this time. Tell me you didn’t run off again, Natylia. Tell me you didn’t worry my father and waste my time.”

  “If your father is this worried, where is he?” Andimir asked.

  “He had business to attend to in the north. Maybe trying to find your sister, who never arrived either.” His arms crossed over his chest. “So, tell me, Natylia, why are we hunting down your family when all you had to do was follow orders?”

  Annalea still wasn’t in Wydus? I fought to keep my face calm. When I didn’t answer, Lucian tossed his hands up. “Even now you can’t give me an answer? Do you care at all about the people affected by your rash decisions? Because from where I’m standing, you do what you want and leave everyone else to clean up your messes.”

  Anger blazed in my chest at that. “You’re not mad that I’m here. You’re mad that I’m not at your palace where you could try to shepherd me into marriage.”

  Lucian sighed, shaking his head. The fury was gone from his face now and regret touched his eyes. He looked so much like his father in that moment, from the lines of his brow down to the yellow he had stolen from his father’s hazel eyes. “No. I’m mad that you vanished into thin air for the second time, and I didn’t know where to find you. Or if you were still alive. I’ve seen the bounty, Natylia. You’re in danger out here.”

  “You think we’d let anyone hurt her?” Meryn spoke finally, stepping up beside Andimir.

  “I think you three have lived in a palace your entire lives,” Lucian said. “He’s a blacksmith and he’s a pirate. Not exactly the crew to keep you alive, if the rumors of rampaging Titans are true.”

  “Rumors of Titans?” Jyn asked. His temper warred with our need for information, but his shoulders were still hard set.

  “Supposedly there’s a water Titan destroying the southern islands. I don’t know if there’s truth to the rumor.”

  “The Dwarves,” I said under my breath. Jyn risked a glance from the corner of his eye, inclining his head a fraction of an inch. I spoke again, but louder. “I don’t know anything about that. We went searching for the second Scepter. Thus far, we’ve had no luck.”

  Andimir inclined his head slightly, understanding. The guards eyed him warily, but we had no intention of touching the prince. We couldn’t tell him anything, either. Not when he was volatile enough to drop the information back into Wulfric’s open hands, assuming Lucian was lying. Or if he knew more than he let on—I couldn’t tell.

  “Come back to Thrais, Natylia,” he said after a moment. “Rule your kingdom. Be safe. Stop gallivanting around the countryside like a fool.”

  Jyn rolled his shoulders back. “Insult her again.”

  The guards moved, their swords drawn on Jyn. In as swift a motion, Camion, Andimir, and I had weapons aimed at them.

  Lucian hesitated, staring at the arrow tip aimed at his guard’s throat. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Lucian, I think you should leave,” Andimir said quietly. “Go back to Thrais, tell Devlyn Nat is fine. Tell your father she’ll come to Wydus as soon as she’s able. And focus your efforts on Annalea, who actually seems to be missing. Just go.”

  “You don’t know where your sister is?” The alarm in his voice sounded genuine. He waved down his guards, and when their weapons fell, so did ours.

  “You said she never arrived in Wydus, right?” My voice shook. He nodded.

  “I didn’t realize—” The words fell off. He shifted his weight. “I thought she went with you, or at least that you knew where she was.”

  I shook my head.

  “I’ll find her.” I wasn’t sure I liked the idea. If Fetian returned, I was already planning another letter for Audri in my head. My expression must have leaked the sentiment, because he added, “I can do this for you, Natylia. Trust me.”

  “That’s the problem,” I muttered. “I don’t.”

  Lucian spun in frustration, slamming the toe of his glossy boot into the dirt. Stones and earth flew into the air, his own horses scampering back. When he turned again, he glared at Andimir, sized him up. Then he spun on me. “Why him? Why does he get a free pass, after what he did? I have to leave and he gets what, to be in your circle of trust all these years later? I was the one who stayed in the first place, Nat.”

  “Sincere apologies go a long way,” I said quietly.

  “And if I apologized?” he asked, taking a step closer. Camion stiffened beside me, but Lucian said, “What then? I would be forgiven? I could be trusted, like all of them, with your life?”

  I shook my head. “Real apologies don’t have motives.”

  Lucian closed his eyes, breathing out through his nose as his jaw flexed. His expression softened, then his lips curved downward. “How do I fix this?”

  “I don’t know that you can,” I said honestly.

  The prince considered me for a long minute. “I’ll find your sister,” he murmured. His eyes scaled each of my companions in turn, from Camion to Meryn, onto Jyn and Andimir. As his gaze landed on the latter, he said, “Take care of her.”

  He moved to leave without another word, his bewildered guards at his tail. His horse kicked a cloud of dust up behind him as he went.

  Jyn caught my eye. “And I thought you were dramatic.”

  Chapter 30

  The pack on my shoulders was heavy with the extra supplies we’d bought in Seryn. Jyn had insisted on extra waterskins, too, the hide pouch tapping at my thigh. We drank to our heart’s content so long as the river trailed beside us. Eventually, though, the river split and we needed to veer west.

  Traveling merchants set up carts near the vee in the river, where we sold them our horses at a steep discount. One eyed Andimir a bit too long, and though we were safe behind our cloaks, dread settled into my stomach. We bought a quick meal then pressed on, westward.

  Too soon the air grew warmer. Drier. Plant life became scarcer, the landscape broken by hard ground before blending into an ocean of sand. Endless, glittering sand. Sweat dripped down my spine. I squirmed in my leathers and under the heavy cloak.

  “You never know when the Shadows might show up,” Jyn insisted. “You have to wear your leathers. Besides, the cloak is protecting you from the sun.”

  “I doubt they’ll be showing up in the desert anytime soon,” I grumbled, to a nod of agreement from Meryn. We didn’t know where the Shadows were, or if they knew about the Tellus Scepter being taken. We weren’t even too sure if they would retaliate when they did, or if they would care at all. Unless they were paid to care. In either case, I couldn’t imagine anyone would follow us into the desert. No one that we couldn’t see coming. Or who didn’t want to die of heat stroke.

  Andimir and Camion agreed with Jyn, though, so we kept moving. As the noon sun bore down on us, Jyn finally relented and let us at least pack away our cloaks. Heat shimmered off the sparkling sand in waves, sweat a constant sheen across my skin. The breeze that gusted by every few minutes was dry, little more than taunting us.

  Meryn seemed least phased by the excessive heat, though she didn’t wear leathers as the rest of us did. She had her hair tied in a scrap of linen, off her neck and shoulders, but even she couldn’t avoid the bead of sweat that sat on her brow.

  When my steps began to lag, Camion slowed to my pace. I didn’t ask him to, but I didn’t encourage him on, either. His patience was a gift. More than I deserved. Always. As though he could read my thoughts, he shot me that half smile of his. He extended his hand, wagging his fingers in my direction.

  I shook my head at the offer. “I’m so hot, every inch of me is sweat. You’d only slip away.”

  Camion smirked, catching my wrist to press a kiss to my fingers. He releas
ed me again after, looping his thumb through a section of his belt.

  “Are you looking forward to seeing your family again?” Andimir asked, eyes on Jyn.

  Jyn shook his head. “I have no family in Eythera.”

  “None at all?”

  “No. My parents are dead. They were the only blood family I’ve ever known.”

  “I’m . . . sorry,” Andimir said with a wince. “Can I ask—”

  “They were murdered by the Shadows,” Jyn bit out. Then he sighed. “I suppose you’ll probably hear some of this in Eythera anyway. Maybe. If they even remember who I am.”

  I picked up my pace a little, enough to reach out and rest my hand on Jyn’s arm. He patted my fingers gently before he added, “Maybe they’ll know why.”

  “Maybe,” I offered. The expression on his face didn’t seem curious though, more resigned. If I were him, I wouldn’t want to know, either. Years had passed, he’d had time to recover. To build a new family.

  An unbidden image grew in my mind of my mother’s murder. I shoved the reminder down, but reconsidered. Even if I had moved past, I would always wonder who. Why. I wished I had never seen the how . . .

  Meryn drank from her waterskin, pausing for a moment. “So how far is Eythera, anyway?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jyn admitted. “My parents led me north when we left. Through Hexryn, through the Silverglass Forest. Or part way. They died in Light’s Pass.”

  I gripped his arm more firmly. His throat bobbed before he continued. “I didn’t expect that going back to Eythera would make their deaths feel so . . . raw.”

  “Will you be okay?” I asked.

  He put his hand on mine again, letting it linger. “Yes, Princess. Always. I found my place.”

  “I appreciate the sentiments here, and you know I adore you Jyn, but I don’t know if I’m going to make that climb,” Meryn said, pointing ahead.

  Massive sand dunes lined the horizon, creeping closer. Jyn’s eyes narrowed. I retreated back to Camion’s side.

  “Those weren’t there a minute ago,” Jyn said.