A Dragonbird in the Fern

by Rueckert, Laura

  Raffar garbled something else, and Serenna said, “I had always thought she was only a year younger than Scilla.”

  I swallowed. Scilla had been three years my senior. Marrying at seventeen was not exactly recommended in Azzaria, but it wasn’t unheard of, especially in royal families.

  The king stepped back from the table and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes met mine, briefly, apologetically. Then he turned to Mother. “I cannot marry a child. In Farnskag, we do not marry before eighteen.”

  Iron bands squeezed my heart. After being in such a rush that he proposed during the Time of Tears, now he didn’t want to marry me? A pff escaped my lips.

  Mother ignored me, but Father frowned in my direction.

  I was not a child. There was only a two-year age difference between us. He’d been crowned king at sixteen. Surely a marriage was of less consequence than a coronation.

  But then my pulse stuttered, and my eyes sought out the floor. What if he was just saying that because—now that he’d met me—he no longer wanted me as his wife? Liquid fire gushed up into my cheeks. Which was stupid, because I hadn’t wanted to marry him anyway.

  But how erratic would Scilla become by the time I turned eighteen? Five months wasn’t a long time, but every day trapped on earth would only make her more bitter, more violent. Blood on the floor, the walls, the ceiling. No, I couldn’t allow thoughts like that to distract me now.

  Raffar knew nothing about earthwalkers, which came into existence when a person was murdered and no one knew who’d done it. Mother had told me the Farnskager ghosts were gentler and less powerful. They had no earthwalkers, probably didn’t even believe they existed. The Servants of the gods theorized that Azzaria had a stronger sense of justice than other countries. That served us well in life, but in death, it made for ghosts consumed by wrath at the knowledge that their lives had been stolen with no consequences for the culprit. So, when it came time to let go, to move on, they didn’t. They remained here, linked to their families, their rage festering until it exploded, hurting those around them.

  Mother’s smooth voice intercepted the king’s disappointment. “Jiara will be eighteen in five months. Would you prefer to come here again then? Of course, that is a lot of travel for you and your entourage in less than a half year. A lot of time away from your citizens, who surely need you. And Farnskag will completely miss trading for the southern continent’s harvest season.”

  The king’s translator relayed the message. As a show of goodwill, Mother could have allowed the Farnskagers to use our harbors for trade before the marriage, at no cost. But her face was as hard and smooth as porcelain. Protection against the Loftarians was too urgent for us.

  Now it came down to how big the taboo was of marrying someone considered underage—and the Farnskagers’ desperation.

  Raffar’s sharp eyes focused on me. He muttered to his translator. The interpreter handed him a slate and chalk, and a thick, black leather-bound book. “I would speak alone with Jiara.”

  Alone? I caught Mother’s eye, and once she nodded slightly, I followed the king out of the office, down the hall, and out the palace doors to the gardens. We walked across the grounds, past the reflecting pool dotted with coral-colored water lilies. It had rained a little, and my shoes were slippery on the damp grass, but Raffar slowed when I began to fall behind. That small act of attentiveness and the heat of the afternoon sun helped melt my anger at him calling me a child.

  When we were far out of hearing of the palace on the edge of a grove of shade trees, he held up an open palm. Guards from the king’s and Mother’s armies hovered protectively around the edges of a wide, imaginary circle, as if a glass globe had been dropped over us.

  The king garbled a few sentences to me, then smiled in a way that granted his eyes a warm glow and drew out my own smile—as if he wasn’t a king and I wasn’t a princess. As if we’d met in town, at the market while buying fresh fruit and he’d asked me to escape the humidity of the city on a boat ride with him, or to sit under a tree to snack on some pineapple.

  Raffar lowered himself to the damp grass under a shady queensflower tree, gesturing to the spot next to him. My silk zintella dress would get wet, but it would also cool me in this afternoon’s oppressive heat. I settled next to the king while he wrote on the slate. Then, word for word, he looked them up in his book, writing each letter slowly and carefully. Finally, he passed the slate to me.

  I followed the Azzarian words with my finger—it was hard enough for me to concentrate on written words anyway, but with the king breathing down my neck, it was almost impossible. Words jumped off the slate, and I squinted, pulling them back. I forced the letters of each word to swim into the right order. One or two words made no sense at all, but I wasn’t with a tutor, looking to master a text or to get a good grade to impress Mother. I only needed to understand the gist. And that I did: Are you certain you want to marry me? Or is the queen forcing you? Be truthful. I will not betray your trust.

  My hand rose to my throat, and heat flooded my cheeks. Despite how important it was to both our nations to become close allies, he was offering me a way out. My eyes met his, and he leaned in my direction, scrutinizing my face, waiting for my answer. A few days ago, I would have jumped at the chance to stay home. Even now, the teeth of temptation gnawed at me. If I said I was unsure, maybe he’d call off the wedding completely. Or I could say I wanted to wait until eighteen and have a few months to learn the language.

  But it wasn’t just me now and what I wanted. It wasn’t even just Azzaria. It was Scilla’s soul, and my family’s safety.

  My voice steady, I said, “Yes, I am certain I want to marry you. No one is forcing me.”

  I wiped away his letters and wrote my own words on the slate, hoping I had the Azzarian spelled correctly, or at least mostly correctly. I bit my lip. Maybe I should have looked the translations up for him, as he did for me, but I could only imagine the snail’s pace I’d need. So I let him translate, hoping they were spelled well enough to find them in the book.

  When he was done checking, his deep voice rumbled next to me, and he nodded. I had no idea what he’d said, but he smiled, and he gazed out over the canals of Glizerra. He pointed to the gleaming water, and then to both of us. I nodded because Father had arranged a tour for this evening.

  Then I focused on my fingers in my lap and tried not to think about the future.

  Chapter 4

  Two hours later, the contracts had been signed, and Raffar and I were officially engaged. Both sides consented to the scandalously short time period of one week. It wouldn’t give Father nearly enough time to drive the palace servants to organize a wedding befitting both houses, but considering last week’s brutal attack in the north and Raffar’s trade plans, it would have to do.

  Surrounded by six Farnskager guards and six of Mother’s, I led Raffar to the palace dock where an old-fashioned blue and red tagarro boat waited to take us on a tour of the canals. The driver bowed to us, his eyes wide at the sight of the tattoos and hairless heads. The female Farnskager guard entered our boat first, then the king and I, then Serenna and the king’s translator, and finally one of our guards. I settled next to my betrothed on a pile of jewel-colored cushions.

  Hesitance hung over our party like storm clouds over the sea. I caught Serenna’s eye, and she smiled encouragingly, urging me to make conversation. Really, it was silly to have two translators, but Mother and Raffar had agreed upon it. I smiled back at Serenna. Silly or not, I was grateful for her familiar face. But my mind held no more ideas for conversation than the sky reflected on the water.

  The driver pushed off with his oar, and our silent boat sloshed from the dock. We were followed immediately by another boat with a second portion of guards. I took a deep breath and leaned against the pink silk pillow at my back. It would get better. Once we were underway, I could describe what we were seeing in Glizerra.

  Raffar turned and gestured over his shoulder to his translator behind him.
He cleared his throat and said, “Aldar.”

  The translator leaned forward and smiled at me, his cheeks rounding with humor. “My name is Aldar Anzgarsuun, Your Highness,” he said in Azzarian. “It will be a pleasure to translate for you when you come to our capital, Baaldarstad. And I can teach you Farnskag, if you like.”

  “Thank you, Aldar,” I said. “I’d like that very much.”

  I introduced Serenna and began a running commentary of the sights we passed, with Aldar repeating in Farnskag. The driver eased us through a patch of water lilies and out of the palace’s canal into the largest of Glizerra’s waterways: Leaping Dolphin Canal. We floated by heavily decorated homes of wealthy traders. Farther down was the newly cobbled market square, a wide empty space in front of the impressive arcade where traders sold and distributed cinnamon, nutmeg, gold, and other treasures from the southern continent, and silk and fruit from Azzaria. The guards remained stoic throughout the ride, but Raffar was all smiles when he saw it. Soon Farnskag would claim their part in international trade, sending gems, marble, and wool south.

  Next to the arcade was the park with its scarlet queensflower trees and delicate white orchids, and beyond that, the boat builders’ district. We switched to the Emerald Turtle Canal before we reached the fishery. Even so, we were lucky to be upwind today. I asked the driver to take us to the floating market, and our tagarro boat glided alongside houses connected by arched footbridges. This deep into the city, people hurried to the edges of the canals wherever we went, gawking with cries of “the princess” and “Bone Eaters.”

  I glanced back at Aldar, and he winked at me, but he didn’t mention the slur to the king. “Thank you,” I said. “They just don’t know—”

  “I understand. Not every language can sound like a baby babbling . . . words made only of As and Ls and Rs, like Azzarian, right? Alla, razalla, larralla . . .” he teased. Then his smile grew even wider. “And believe me. I have eaten your silkfish before. I know how those nearly invisible bones feel going down.” Choking noises emerged from his mouth, and he clutched melodramatically at his throat.

  I chuckled, and my shoulders relaxed as I waved to the citizens. At least I would have one person to speak to in Farnskag. Raffar shook his head at Aldar’s gagging sounds but didn’t ask for details. He raised his hand to greet our citizens, and the younger girls especially blushed and giggled in response. With an amused shrug, he dropped his hand in the water, trailing it in the current. He relaxed against the sapphire pillow behind his back and closed his eyes.

  I reached over and snagged his wrist. The skin-on-skin contact was too intimate, but I pulled his hand out of the water nonetheless.

  He asked a question, probably along the lines of why I’d done that.

  Before Aldar could translate, I held up one finger to ask him to wait. I slid my hand into the water—it was different if one knew what to expect. Within seconds, an emerald eel latched itself onto my middle finger. I pulled my hand out of the water, and the half-foot-long, gleaming green fish thrashed around, spraying both of us with fat drops.

  Laughter burst from the king, but he didn’t try to shield himself from the water. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

  I laughed along with him. “No. I just didn’t want it to scare you. They don’t have teeth. They usually swallow water slugs whole. Our fingers must look a lot like slugs to them.”

  He chuckled at that too, then I twisted my finger sideways. The eel let go with a slurping sound, and I released it into the water, its green form glittering just below the surface as it slinked away.

  After that, the entire Farnskag party marveled as we passed under Glizerra’s largest walkway over the water—Sunken Rainbow Bridge, where jewel-colored glass sparkled along the underside and reflected up from the water. Following a graceful turn by our driver, we glided through a narrow canal. An old woman with her hair in the tightest bun I’d ever seen peered out a window directly above us. When she scowled at our laughing, partly-foreign party, Raffar grinned and mumbled under his breath. After he spoke, the guards chuckled softly, and Aldar translated: “Admirable restraint, don’t you think? That I didn’t raise a staff over my head, proclaiming Farnskag pride?”

  Raffar slugged him in the arm. Aldar rubbed it. “Uh, apparently, I wasn’t supposed to translate that part.”

  The king’s eyes flashed at me, a mild apology, and heat rose in my cheeks because his gleaming eyes made me feel exactly the same as that time in the Great Hall two years ago, the first time we’d met.

  Once through the narrow canal, the river opened to the floating market. Some two hundred boats crowded the water, brimming with baskets of fruit, vegetables, dried meats and fish, bowls of thick seafood stew, sacks containing spices, clothing, straw sun hats, fabrics, carpets, pots, anything a person could desire. I directed the driver to one of the boats and bought enough dragon fruit, mango, and pineapple for our party. I instructed them to give several bowls to the guards in the second boat. The merchants also offered papayas, but they reminded me of the serving woman’s story about her aunt, the earthwalker, so I shook my head, my throat suddenly dry.

  The sun was low and turning red when the female guard spoke. Serenna translated: “Your Majesty, Your Highness, it’s getting late. It would be safer if we returned to the palace.”

  King Raffar shared a nod with me, and I asked the driver to head back to the canal leading to the royal grounds.

  Commander Torro waited on land as each boat glided up to one side of the dock. Before we had a chance to stand up, he said, “Your Highness, I have a few urgent questions for King Raffar’s security detail.”

  Raffar instructed two of the guards from the second boat to take care of the discussions and sent Aldar to translate. He asked me to stay for a few moments. Thankfully, Serenna remained with me.

  With one hand, the king pushed off from the dock again, and we drifted a few feet into the canal, with the driver steering to be sure we didn’t hit the other shore. As the scarlet evening sun reflected off the smooth water, Raffar gave a quiet order to the female guard, who dug in her pocket and handed him two wide metal rings.

  “Now that we’re engaged, I’d like to make you a gift.” He flattened his palms to show two bracelets. The metal rings were silver, and the centers were shaped like those Farnskager hybrid figures with two shiny black stones that looked like eyes. They were strange figures for jewelry, but I supposed it was a way of welcoming me to Farnskag.

  I leaned forward to take them, but Raffar stopped me mid-reach. “These are family heirlooms. Please consider if you really accept them. Wearing them means—deep in your heart—you choose Farnskag. All of your decisions will be for the good of the people, to help them and protect them. If you choose the Watcher, and it chooses you back, you cannot take it off again.”

  The Watcher? Was that the bracelet? How could a bracelet choose me? I looked to Serenna. “Did he say I may not take them off or I cannot take them off?”

  Serenna spoke rapidly to the king, who repeated, “If it chooses you, you cannot remove them later.”

  “I don’t underst—” I began.

  Raffar held up a hand. Then he pointed to his earlobe—the one with the shard of stone through it. “Watcher of Stone has chosen me.” He removed the shard from his earlobe and set it on the turquoise pillow in front of him. Then he gestured to his ear.

  The stone was still there.

  My eyes snapped to the pillow. Empty.

  Despite the warm evening air, a chill scurried up my arms. “Take it out again,” I told him.

  Raffar grinned. He removed the shard—and I saw it. It was in his hand. Then it lay on the pillow. But when I looked back to his ear, it pierced his earlobe, and the pillow was empty again. My heart pounded. So that was cannot take them off. How was that possible?

  “You do not know anything about our Watchers?” the king asked.

  If I remembered correctly from Scilla’s stories, the Farnskagers worshipped inanimate objects like rocks and
lakes. But the Watcher was obviously more than an inanimate object. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I shook my head.

  He considered for a moment, then continued, his voice heavy with reverence. “The Watchers make up our world. Sky, stone, water. They are everything. They are everywhere, surrounding us, providing for us. Always watching us, occasionally protecting.” He pressed a fist to his chest. “They know the depths of our hearts.”

  Nodding because the Watchers seemed very similar to the gods, I pointed to the bracelets. “Is this also Watcher of Stone?”

  The king shook his head. “Watcher of Sky.” He pointed straight up, then his arm arced slowly down until he pointed to the garden beyond the palace. “Pieces of a fallen star. Very rare.”

  A fallen star. But black—not how I’d imagined such a brilliant object. Matter from beyond the clouds, from beyond our world . . . my fingers itched to touch them.

  “Princess Jiara, do you choose Watcher of Sky?” Raffar’s eyes reflected red in the setting sun.

  “What does that mean? Choosing stone or sky—which is better?” I asked.

  After the translation, Raffar’s features pinched, and he shook his head. “Neither is better. Either one would be a privilege.”

  He’d said wearing the bracelets meant I put Farnskag ahead of everything. That would include Azzaria and my family. How could I agree to that when I’d never even set foot in the country? When we weren’t even married yet?

  My eyes flicked to the guard and then to the king. Both tattooed, with strange haircuts and oddly tailored clothing. So different.

  But people, just like Serenna and me. And they would be my people soon. Maybe instead of trying to put Farnskag first, I could put my people first. Do anything I could for their happiness and prosperity and safety. And that would include my fellow Azzarians and my future Farnskagers. That was a promise I could make.