by Grace Martin
Whatever acidic words Aoife spat at me in response were lost in the cheer from the nobles in the banquet hall. ‘Hail, Princess Emer!’ They called it aloud like it was the best news they’d had all day. I’d never had people call my name like that before. It was intoxicating.
And then Caradoc came forward. He knelt at my feet. The crowd quietened to hear him speak. ‘Princess Emer,’ he said, ‘the Camiri will be proud to call you their Queen.’ I hadn’t thought of that. I hadn’t had time to think of anything, really. A wild hope blossomed somewhere near my heart. Caradoc had been betrothed to Aoife because she was the heir apparent. Did that mean that he and I could be together now?
‘I’d be honoured,’ I said quietly.
Still kneeling he caught my hand and kissed it, and it was the most romantic moment of my life.
Then the Empress was there, her arms open to catch me in yet another unwelcome embrace. I felt better, now that I knew she thought she was being motherly and affectionate, but that still didn’t mean I wanted a hug from a stranger.
‘My Bach Chwaer!’ she cried in a ringing voice so loud as to be too loud up close, but probably quite comfortable if you were standing in the next room. ‘Come! Sit beside me. Drink from my cup, eat of my bread. All I have is yours. All I am is what you will be. Receive this ring, the insignia of the Bach Chwaer.’
I did what I was told, slipping the heavy, ugly ring onto my index finger. I drank from her cup, even though I’d never drunk from the same cup as anyone but my Sparrow. After a sip of wine and a morsel of bread, the ceremony seemed to be done with and I was allowed to have my own food.
The Empress was telling me all about her life. How she’d brought peace to the Thousand Counties, how the world was a different place under her rule, where magic was not only tolerated but respected and people like me never need to be afraid again.
I refrained from saying it was under her peaceful and tolerant rule that I was clad in a featherskin and sent to clean out the stables. Anyone who lives through what I’ve lived through learns how to stay safe. If that means lying, then so be it. I’d learned that if I stuck up for myself, stood up and announced the truth, then it would be worse for Elisabeth.
Elisabeth learned that the only thing under her control was her appetite. If she’d been at the banquet she would have just picked at the food, just to prove that hunger held no power over her.
I was seated at the Empress’s right hand. Aoife was on her left, Aine on Aoife’s other side. Best of all, Caradoc was sitting right next to me. I longed to talk to him, but the Empress never shut up.
When the suckling pig was wheeled into the room and served to the assembled nobles the chatter died down a little. Caradoc took the chance to speak to the Empress.
‘Your Majesty, may I repeat my congratulations on naming your Bach Chwaer. Emer is an excellent choice. The Camiri will be proud to name her their Queen.’ He put his hand on mine where it rested on the table.
The room went suddenly silent as the Empress leaped to her feet, shoving her chair back so fast that it fell over. She flung herself over me. I thought for a moment I would suffocate in a cloud of gold silk. Muffled by her gown, I heard the Empress shout, ‘Get your filthy hands off her!’
The Empress grabbed hold of my hand and pulled it away from Caradoc. She leaned backwards, drawing my hand with her so my arm was pulled across my body. She grabbed my other hand and held them both together against her. Her breath was sawing in and out and her heart pounded beneath my hands. ‘How dare you!?’ she gasped. ‘How dare you lay hands on her?’
Servants picked up her chair and the Empress sank back, keeping my hands in her grasp. She lifted my hands to her face and rested her cheek against them. ‘Emer, don’t be afraid, he won’t touch you again. I won’t allow it. I can protect you now. You are my Bach Chwaer, my own. You are safe, I swear it.’
I pulled my hands away. I couldn’t bear it. I rubbed my hands over each other, trying to wipe away the touch of her cheek. I made a sound like a sob that I couldn’t have held in
‘I thought you wanted your heir to marry the leader of the rebel Camiri?’ Aoife asked nastily. ‘It was good enough for me. Let her marry the filthy thing.’
‘No!’ the Empress cried. She forgot about trying to take my hands back and swivelled to glare at Aoife again. ‘I won’t do that to Emer. She has suffered enough in her life. What do you know of suffering, raised in privilege and luxury?’
‘I thought you wanted “peace in our time”?’ Only Aoife could make that sound like a bad thing.
‘Not if it means sacrificing Emer. No, my earlier decision stands. You are betrothed to Caradoc, Aoife, you will marry him. He is good enough for you. He will never be good enough for Emer.’
The nobles had sat very still while all this was going on, turning only to look at one another, seeking confirmation that the world was indeed falling to pieces around them. One noble looked up at the ceiling to try and avoid looking at his neighbours. He leaped from his chair and pointed up.
‘Fire!’ he shouted. ‘The roof is on fire!
Chapter Nine
Every head turned upwards. Flames were just starting to creep along the rafters on one side of the roof. Gossip quickly turned to screams and people started to run from the room.
Not many of them made it out. There was an antechamber outside the banquet hall for the nobles to assemble, sip drinks and gossip some more before they went in to eat. A few nobles made it into the antechamber. As they ran across the stone floor there was a crash, the sound of falling masonry, an animal roar and more screams. Before our eyes, they were engulfed in flames. They screamed and screamed, writhing, living, dancing tongues of flame until they fell silent and still.
The nobles who were clustered near the door of the antechamber ran back into the banquet hall. A dragon extended his head through the door and almost casually breathed a jet of fire over them. Caradoc ran across the room away from the dragon and for a moment I was so disappointed in him I could hardly bear the bitter taste in my mouth.
Aine and Aoife had run to each other and stood side by side. Aine extended her left arm, Aoife extended her right and they cast lightning together, amplifying each other’s power as they attacked the dragon. The dragon didn’t seem to care. He turned his head and licked at the lightning like it was delicious.
On the other side of the room, high up near the ceiling, was a decorative array of weapons: swords, spears and things I couldn’t even name. Caradoc raised his arm and a sword, as tall as he was, came down from the wall and flew into his hand. He ran towards the dragon, shouting a battle cry, the sword held aloft in both hands.
He made a slice in the dragon’s side but all it did was irritate the creature. The dragon raised one arm and bowled Caradoc across the room like a doll, the sword skittering after him along the flagstones.
The Empress drew a wand from the depths of her golden gown. Her skirts billowed around her like water in the magical wind that whipped circles around the room. I’d expected lightning or fire to come from the wand that was the most common type of magic ‒ but the Empress did something I’d never seen before. She cried aloud and ran towards the dragon, as a stream of silver ice erupted from her wand. It struck the dragon on his flank and distracting him from Caradoc.
The dragon hadn’t noticed the lightnings from the twins, but he noticed the ice. He threw back his head and roared. Swinging his massive head around, he focused on the Empress. She couldn’t protect herself while casting ice at him. I rushed towards her.
The dragon drew in his breath. I flung myself in front of the Empress. She was distracted and the ice from her wand stopped flowing. The dragon breathed out a rush of flame. Distantly, I heard Caradoc scream my name. I held my arms out, the Empress behind me, and defended us both.
The flames rushed around the shield of invisible power I’d drawn around us both. Not even the hem of her dress was scorched but she screamed and put her arms around me from behind.
Still holding me tight, the Empress raised her wand again. This time, the stream of ice hit the dragon in the chest and pushed him backwards a step. I raised my arm too and let her share my power. The stream of ice became a river spearing through the air. It struck the dragon in the face. He stumbled, his back legs going from beneath him.
Caradoc was in front of the dragon. With a mighty thrust, he forced the sword through the armoured plates of the dragon’s chest into its heart. Blood gushed over him. The dragon’s claws swiped at his unprotected back and head. Now it was my turn to scream.
The dragon’s frantic movements slowed, weakened. I thought for a moment that the dragon might fall, but it turned and flew away, struggling to remain aloft on ungainly wings.
It was Caradoc who fell.
The Empress was still holding me. I pulled out of her arms and ran to him. ‘No,’ I cried. ‘You can’t die,’ I whispered, stroking his wet hair away from his bloodstained face. ‘Please don’t die.’
He opened his eyes. ‘I’ll do anything if you ask me so nicely,’ he said weakly, and smiled. I put my hands on my chest to heal him. I didn’t have much healing power, but I gave him all I had. Aine came to stand behind me. She put her hand on my shoulder and shared her magic with me.
Caradoc sighed as the power flowed through him. His hands came up to hold me and I put my head on his chest and cried my eyes out. I opened my eyes briefly and saw the Empress staring at us, her face pale, her stance rigid, before she spun around and stalked out of the room.
After that a lot of things happened very quickly. The Empress called a council and had me sit in on it. I knew very little about this world, but I’d learned enough history to realise what had just happened. That attack was the first in what would be a very long war. Things would just get worse from here. The dragons would attack the whole country and within months the Thousand Counties would be ablaze.
Cairnagorn would fall, and a darkness would fall on the land. Magic would be outlawed. The Camiri would be expelled from the Thousand Counties, sent back to their ancestral lands, imprisoned or worse. There would be purges, and if you were a Camiri child you would be lucky to survive. Virtually the only Camiri to escape were soldiers. The Empress would be killed. The White Queen would take power and the Dark Queen would contest her, fighting with the remnant of the Camiri from Camaria where their clan held their ancestral lands.
It was all my fault. I was the one who had created Darragh in the first place. Only Caradoc knew and, sitting in the Council with the others, he didn’t say anything.
The Empress was busy organising. People ran in and out of the room, following her orders, barely able to keep up with the pace of her demands. Messages were to fly from the first County to the last. Troops were to gather and Aine was to make sure that every Camiri understood that if they didn’t fight with the Empress then she would personally ensure that they were wiped out. I was to go, as her personal emissary, to Cairnagorn to request the help of the Librarians. Aoife, as the more experienced politician would go with me. As would her betrothed.
‘What good would a bunch of bookkeepers be?’ I asked.
The Empress blinked. She answered slowly, like she was talking to a child. ‘You know what kind of books are in the Library at Cairnagorn. You know what power they hold. Who do you suppose reads them? Who do you suppose writes them? The Order of the Librarians are the most powerful magi in the Thousand Counties. Go upstairs and get ready to leave. Aoife will go with you. Don’t get any ideas about running away, my Bach Chwaer. I guarantee that the safest place will be by my side.’
And just like that her attention passed over me and moved on to something else.
We were all going to travel together as far as the Library, Caradoc, Aine, Aoife and me. Even Sir Cai and his squire were to ride with the train to accompany Aine. The Empress was far too elderly and frail to travel.
‘Why doesn’t the Empress come with us, if it’s so important to get the Librarians on our side?’ I asked.
‘Mother hates the Librarians,’ Aine murmured. ‘Calls them creepy.’
‘Mother,’ Aoife spoke over Aine without even looking up from her book, ‘is far too elderly and frail to travel.’
‘She doesn’t look that old.’
‘When you get to three hundred years old, madam, then you can comment on how easy it is for our mother to travel.’
‘Don’t be stupid, people don’t live that long!’ Oh, my God, I am so mature.
Aoife sniffed and raised her face a little higher, although that would have made it really difficult to read. ‘Normal rules don’t apply to our Mother. Normal rules don’t apply to us, either. Mother has told us that we need not worry about ageing. She will take care of it, when the time comes.’
‘But I’ve never heard of any kind of magic that makes people live longer!’ It offended my sense of right and wrong in the world.
‘Then people must have just imagined it for the last three hundred years, then. I’m sure you’re right. Whatever you’ve learned in your life must be all there is to learn in the world.’ She turned the page.
‘There’s no need to be nasty about it.’
By the time we rolled into Cairnagorn, it was late into the night. The moon had long since risen and Aoife and I struggled for ownership of the window closest to the light. I hadn’t been out under the moon since losing the feathers and I was determined to gain as much access as possible. Eventually, Aoife had to subside back into the cushions on her side of the carriage, while I turned my face and hands to the moonlight.
I pretended to be nonchalant, but going through the gates of Cairnagorn made me shiver. Aine looked at me sympathetically.
‘Mother hates this place, too,’ she said. She glared at her sister with a sudden change of attitude. ‘Aoife loves it here, though. I think she’s got the hots for one of the Librarians. He’s about a hundred years old. So sexy.’
Aoife threw her book at Aine and there was a brief tussle that stopped suddenly when the carriage rolled to a stop and guards appeared at the door.
‘Your Highness, Your Highness,’ he said, bowing first to Aoife and then to Aine, clearly a man who knew how to get along in the world. ‘The Library of Cairnagorn is honoured by your presence.’ He peered at me and Caradoc. ‘May I know the identity of your guests, your Highnesses?’
‘Guests!’ Aoife spat as she alighted the carriage.
‘The gentleman is my sister’s betrothed, Caradoc of the Camiri. The lady…’ Aine paused for effect as she allowed the guard to assist her to descend the few stairs, ‘the lady is the Bach Chwaer, Heir to the Empress.’
I was at the door by the time Aine made her announcement and held up my hand to show the guard the ugly ring. The guard was so shocked he turned to face the princess and left me standing there. I cast a wry glance at Caradoc, who grinned, bowed, and reached out a hand for me to hold, because heaven forbid I should walk down a flight of two stairs without a man to help me.
The guard regained a semblance of control by the time I was on the ground. He spun back to face me and bowed deeply. ‘Bach Chwaer, Cairnagorn is honoured by your presence. We are at your service.’
I thought of the Council of Librarians, each with the symbol of the creepyguardians on their shoulders, of Master Darragh beating the shit out of me, of the featherskin that made me less than a beast in the eyes of everyone but Caradoc. I refrained from telling the guard exactly what I thought of Cairnagorn and all its inhabitants.
Aine gave me a small grin, then got back into the carriage. ‘Wish me luck inspiring the soldiers,’ she said, her voice thin and possibly the least inspirational sound I’d ever heard.
I wished her luck, Caradoc echoing my sentiments, and the carriage pulled away. ‘Are you done?’ Aoife asked. ‘I’m tired and I want to go to bed.’
We were guided into the Library, carefully arranged according to precedence. I went first, walking behind the guard, followed by a resentful Aoife, then Caradoc. Another guard brou
ght up the rear. I tried very hard not to feel like I was a prisoner. The mountain loomed above us and carved into its mass was the heart of Cairnagorn: the Library.
We were taken to our rooms. Aoife and I in one and Caradoc in another. I would have much rather shared with Caradoc. I went warm all over at the thought of sharing a room with Caradoc. I’d barely had the feathers off my skin for more than a day. We hadn’t had more than a few moments alone and I longed to spend more time with him. I wanted him to see my face clearly. And I wanted to see more of him. I wasn’t ready for how much I wanted to see of him, so I was awkward and relieved when the Librarians came to escort him to another room.
I had a vague idea of where I was. In my time, Cairnagorn looked quite different but the footprint was the same. The dragons ‒ Darragh and his sons ‒ had razed Cairnagorn and much of the mountain had fallen in. It was strange to me to see corridors that I knew free from debris.
I even recognised the room they took us to. Aoife and I were to share a suite, each with our own bedroom and a shared common room. Elisabeth and I used to play in that room.
The room was richly furnished, in the best part of the Library, and a part that had received little damage when the dragons attacked. In the centre of the room was a round table, on which stood a silver tray, a decanter and a pair of finely ornamented goblets inlaid with rubies and precious gems that shone in the light from the lanterns.
Elisabeth and I had pretended we were fine ladies and toasted each other with the goblets filled with water. The decanter had been cracked in the attack and the wine it had contained was now a rusty, dusty stain on the silver tray.
This was where…
I didn’t want to think about that, though. It didn’t help that Aoife looked practically identical to my Sparrow. I had to remind myself that they were different people, although the vicious expression that crossed Aoife’s face the moment the guards left the room.