Chapter 25
As soon as I reached the manor, I sent a servant for Matid. With Aldar on the loose and clearly raging over what I’d done, I didn’t dare stay alone.
Once in my suite, I unfolded the letter. It was in Stärklandish. The two dots over some of the letters proved it. I pounded my fists on the dining room table. I couldn’t read Stärklandish!
If I had a lexicon, I might be able to translate it, but my head pounded at the thought of how difficult that would be. It was hard enough with Farnskag, and I’d actually learned to recognize many of that language’s words.
What I wouldn’t give for someone who could translate it for me. But the only one was Aldar.
Except . . . Jonas. Assuming he knew how to read, he could do it. The question was whether I could trust him. I knew nothing of the language, so the prisoner could tell me anything, and I’d never be able to prove him wrong.
But what other choice did I have? If I told Matid that Aldar had chased me with a nearly black something-I-hadn’t-even-
actually-seen, how could he take me seriously? If I said Aldar was a traitor because of this letter neither of us could read, would he believe me? Would he even understand what I meant? It wasn’t like I could mime betraying the king like I used a few hand gestures to show I was ill. No, if I were to accuse Aldar, I’d need evidence and details . . . details like those that were probably contained in this letter.
Either way, I wanted a guard with me. When Matid arrived, I asked him to bring me to the prison. He stared at me for a few moments, his knitted brows distorting the tattoos on his forehead like he wanted to ask why I had so many strange requests today. But in the end, he nodded without question, and a short ride later, we descended the dank steps to the prison cells. The lone torch flickered and hissed, but the brightness was swallowed by the shadows within a foot or two. If we were going to read, we’d need more light, so I pointed to the torch and asked for a second one. One of the guards went to fetch it, and I strode over to the Stärklandish prisoner.
“Queen Jiara,” said Jonas, his hopeless expression livening in surprise. “I am—”
“I’m sorry, but there is no time for pleasantries. If I show you a letter in Stärklandish, would you translate it to Azzarian for me?”
He cocked his head at me, almost like a bird, listening carefully for the sound of predators. “I can. But I am surprised. You don’t ask translator to do this?”
I shook my head and unfolded the letter. When the second torch arrived and a golden glow drove the shadows back, I held the parchment closer to the cell.
“Wait”—he pointed a grubby finger through the bars—“the . . .” He kept poking his finger toward the outer side of the letter.
“The seal?” I asked.
“Yes.” He nodded repeatedly. “The seal.”
I held it closer to him. With my other arm, I pulled Matid’s torch lower, and the flames weaved patterns on the raised black seal.
“Hmm.” He squinted at me. “This is seal of a family in south of Stärkland. They don’t like the queen. They are not to be trusted.”
Slowly, I bobbed my head. I turned the letter around so he could see the writing on the inside.
Jonas’s eyes flew over the page. His posture straightened. “It says, ‘Our first part of bargain is done. Delivery was months ago, bladeleaf, as you request—’”
“Bladeleaf!” I cried. My vision blurred, and I leaned against the bars for support. Of all the things to hear, I hadn’t expected that.
Matid carefully, but firmly, pulled me away from the cell, out of Jonas’s reach. “Are you all right, Skriin Jiara?” he asked.
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Aldar had requested the bladeleaf. The memory of him gesturing to each type of food on my Loftarian plate flashed in my mind. He must have sprinkled it on then. Aldar had wanted me dead. And he’d succeeded. I shivered: without Watcher of Sky, I’d be an earthwalker like Scilla.
A couple of deep breaths later, the shock began to wear off; I needed to find out more. “I’m fine,” I said in Farnskag to Matid. Before I asked Jonas to continue though, I forced myself to consider if he was telling the truth. But he must have been. If he’d wanted to trick me with the bladeleaf, he would have done it at our last meeting. He’d had no certainty that I’d visit again. And it wasn’t like anyone would have told him about my poisoning to begin with.
I took several deep breaths to clear my mind and gestured to Jonas and the letter. “What else?”
“Bladeleaf dangerous. Do you think someone wants to poison the Farnskag king? Or Your Majesty?”
“Keep reading,” I ordered without answering him.
With a sigh, he nodded. “Yes. I read. ‘When you are king—’” Jonas raised his eyebrows at me. “Who this letter belong to?”
For now, it was better to see which details he could discover without my help. “What does it say?”
He indicated I should flip it over and then back again. “Nothing. Not on outside or inside. No greeting. Also not signed by someone.”
“Then please continue.”
His eyebrows creased, but he must have realized I wouldn’t reveal anything. “‘We were unsatisfied to see you did not prevent alliance with Azzaria. But maybe it is for the best. When you are king, Farnskag army help us defeat Stärklandish queen and we take power. We hope treaty with Azzaria still binding. Maybe we need Azzaria army at our . . . disposal.’ What? Someone thinks they can defeat our queen? No. That is . . .” The rest of his sentence was lost in a string of what I assumed was Stärklandish curses.
Aldar did not prevent an alliance with Azzaria. That meant he tried, didn’t it? That meant he either killed Scilla himself or had her killed. Chills ran from my scalp down my arms. Scilla, I hope you’re paying attention, I thought, then I said, “Jonas, please read more.”
He groaned at me, squinting his eyes in an annoyed expression that made me think of my brothers. But he continued: “‘As discussed, in return, we grant Farnskag the two . . . contested . . . regions Farnskag now . . . holds. We wait for good news and for date of . . . invasion.’” He looked at me again, eyes wide. Then he read the last line: “‘We have gone far too long without communication. We expect your message at Meeting Place Number 2 in one month.’”
Jonas stared hard into my eyes. “Please, who is this letter to?” he begged, both hands gripping the bars in front of him.
He had helped me so much. He deserved to know. “Aldar, the translator,” I said.
The prisoner let go and dropped his head in both hands, muttering in Stärklandish. I might not have understood the words, but it was a pretty good bet he was wishing his party had killed Aldar when they’d had the chance. I tended to agree. It would have been too late for Scilla, but it would have saved the rest of us.
I left the prisoner to his ramblings. My heart pounded, because now, I had enough details to bring in the royal guards. Haltingly, I explained what happened today to Matid, but he kept repeating, “Aldar is the king’s cousin,” and “The king places great trust in Aldar.”
No matter what I said, I wasn’t getting the message across. The urge to kick something almost overwhelmed me. All this wasted time! “I need Freyad,” I said. She always understood me better, and the two of them would be required anyway if I was to get Aldar arrested.
Matid might not have understood how dangerous Aldar was, but he at least sensed the urgency. “I’ll take you to the royal manor immediately. She should be back soon.”
“Thank you.” I headed for the stairs, eager to leave the dark, damp prison behind me.
“Queen Jiara!” called Jonas from his cell. We were far enough away that his face was mostly shadows. I expected him to plead with me to free him—something I didn’t have time for now—but all he said was, “You must stop the translator. Please.”
I nodded. “I will.”
__________
I paced my suite, wandering from one room to the next, waiting for Matid and Frey
ad to arrive. Finally, a half hour after being left there by Matid, there was a knock.
My hand froze on the knob. “Who’s there?”
“Freyad.”
I strode forward, ready to open the door, but then I remembered not only Matid trusted Aldar. “Only Freyad?”
“Freyad and Matid. That’s all,” came the curious sounding response.
My hand fumbled with the door, and Freyad hurried into the room, looking me up and down. “What’s wrong? Matid said you visited the prisoner again, and now there’s a problem with you and Aldar.”
I closed the door behind them, then leaned on it while I indicated they should sit at the table with me. I wasted no time but began my story with the bladeleaf poisoning, which both had witnessed. I told them about Aldar teaching me incorrectly, about him discussing with part of the Grand Council in secret, and finally about him meeting the man in the forest and the contents of the letter. Throughout the conversation, I kept a close look on their faces to make sure they understood me. Sometimes only one of them did, then the other helped out.
When I finished, the two guards conferred so quickly, I couldn’t follow them.
“You’re sure it was Aldar?” Freyad asked me suddenly, her eyes searching mine.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
She put a hand on my shoulder and considered for a moment. “We cannot trust the Stärklandish prisoner”—I opened my mouth to contradict her, but she continued—“but we leave for Gluwfyall to meet Raffar in the morning anyway. That’s good. If there’s a chance of danger to you in Baaldarstad, it’s better to be far away. A scholar can give us an official translation of this letter when we arrive.”
That all sounded good, but what damage might Aldar do while we were gone? “But Aldar—”
She sighed. “I may not trust the prisoner, but I trust you, Queen Jiara. If you say it was Aldar, then it was him. And this letter is definitely Stärklandish. This is no small matter—Farnskag’s security is at stake. To protect the country, we have no choice but to arrest him and get to the bottom of the matter.”
Matid swallowed as she said that, and his gaze sought out the floor, but he nodded as well. “There’s no sense in waiting,” he said with a fortifying breath as he stood up. “I’ll put together a team and take him somewhere secure.” He shared a last look with Freyad, then he squared his shoulders and left the royal suite.
Freyad agreed to remain in my chambers until we received the confirmation that Aldar had been apprehended. Just knowing Matid was on the way to arrest him made a massive weight evaporate from my shoulders. Finally, after all this time searching, things were going to turn out all right. For just a moment, I left Freyad in the sitting room to stand before my blocks for the gods. “My heart in your hands.” And then, softly, so Freyad couldn’t hear me, I whispered, “I think we’ve done it, Scilla. I think we’ve found your killer.”
My stomach twisted a little at the thought that Aldar’s tattoo did not match the witness’s drawing. But he was clearly involved. And if he’d given someone else the task of killing my sister, we’d get the information out of him. Both Aldar and the assassin would be punished, and Scilla—and my family—would be free.
For the first time in weeks, a bright and beautiful hope blossomed in my heart.
But within an hour, Matid returned to the royal manor, and the horror on his face said it all.
“Aldar is gone.”
Chapter 26
When the sun’s rays filtered through the shutters, I jumped out of bed and nearly stumbled over Freyad, who’d had a cot brought in to be sure I was protected while I slept. I’d tossed and turned half the night, livid at myself for not acting on my suspicions earlier.
When there was a knock at the door, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“A letter, Your Majesty.”
I clambered back onto my bed and tore it open. It was from Pia! As Freyad organized her things, I devoured, slowly like always, every word from my friend.
I loved the sketch of you riding an elephant bird. I knew you’d manage there! Sorry for the short note. I don’t have much time to write. I don’t have much time for anything now, but the reason is the best I could imagine. Our baby is here. I’m fine and our daughter is perfect. We named her Giaah.
My jaw dropped. Giaah was a word in Farnskag. It meant joy.
We chose it to honor King Raffar, for supporting you when you decided to bring me to Flissina. And to honor you. It is no coincidence that Giaah sounds a bit like Jiara.
We pray every day for Scilla and your family, and I hope with all my heart you’ll visit and see our little treasure soon.
Where had the time gone? When I’d last seen Pia, her stomach had been flat. And now her daughter had been born.
In all that time, I’d made progress, but still hadn’t taken Scilla’s murderer into custody.
But I did know more. And we had a plan. Pressing Pia’s letter to my heart, I focused on her good news, and on the fact that we were journeying to meet Raffar today. We’d increase the distance between me and my traitorous translator. And although it filled me with guilt to think it, maybe it would even take Scilla a while to find me again.
Servants carried my trunks downstairs, two carriages were filled, and Freyad, Matid, and I prepared to head north to Gluwfyall with a small guard. A few warriors who knew about Aldar remained in Baaldarstad and had been sworn to secrecy. If he were to show up, they would arrest him on sight, but quietly. Until the charges were confirmed, they didn’t want to risk ruining his reputation. Especially not since he was the king’s cousin.
Freyad was to ride in the carriage with me, and she embraced Linnd for the third time since we’d met in front of the manor. When the two finally parted, Linnd grunted, “Queen Jiara, you have to stop taking my wife away from me.”
I bowed to Linnd, and kept my face appropriately queenly. “Please accept my apologies.”
She scowled, but her eyes sparkled at me. Then she gave Freyad one last kiss. “Take her to the Lake of Nine Sisters. She’ll like it.”
I climbed into the carriage. When Freyad made herself comfortable across from me, I asked, “What was that about the lake?”
She waved out the window to those seeing us off and mumbled something about a little lake I might get to see while I was in Gluwfyall. I waved also, to the servants I’d come to respect, to the townspeople who had—mostly—accepted me, despite my foreignness. But I was also glad. Freyad had to leave her wife, but I was going to see my husband, and get away from the mistrust and fear Aldar had instilled in me here.
Freyad and I chatted about which design she should choose for a hair clip for Linnd for their upcoming anniversary, then she told me about the area we’d be visiting—she was obviously trying to keep my mind off my worries. I gave in and listened to her tales, imagining a lake as big as Azzaria’s sea, with a horizon that stretched on forever. I tried to concentrate on the names and physical descriptions Freyad recited—important people I’d meet. Learning them now would make it easier when I met them, but instead, water sparkled in my mind. Waves rushed to shore. Whales leaped into the air, twisted and crashed down, spray exploding everywhere.
My lake fantasy was silly, but even it couldn’t prevent a part of my mind from circling back to Aldar. Being absent from Baaldarstad might protect me from danger, but it also meant we could no longer keep an eye out for him. Freyad and I would tell Raffar everything as soon as we arrived, and we had the documents with us to prove it. We’d persuade Raffar to react quickly, from Gluwfyall even.
Despite the light topics Freyad continued to bring up, her tight expression showed she couldn’t free her mind of Aldar either, and she eventually gave up on small talk. We sat silently in the lurching carriage, both lost in our thoughts. We could only hope we’d catch the king’s dangerous cousin, and that it would be soon enough.
__________
A violent, two-day storm that toppled trees and flooded dips in the road imprisoned us in one of t
he towns along the way, so reaching Gluwfyall took longer than planned. I spent the hours we were trapped in guest houses poring over the book on Watchers I’d brought with me, including asking Freyad for help. And maybe, just maybe, my perpetually strained eyes were worth it. The woman who had given tattoos was called a devsiin kahngaad. But the word meant far more than I’d thought. A kahngaad was someone with a special connection to the Watchers. They lived outside of town in order to be uninterrupted in their connection to the world, and to the Watchers. We’d never consulted one about Scilla’s murderer. Now we knew that Aldar was involved, but not where he was. Maybe a kahngaad could help. We were too far from the woman in Baaldarstad, but Freyad said there was another, a far more powerful one, not far from where we’d meet Raffar.
On our last day of travel, tree trunks and splintered branches blocked the hilly road for miles. Without clearing a path, there was no way for the carriages to pass. The guards dismounted and tied their birds to the rear carriage. Freyad and I hopped out. Not including the drivers, everyone helped drag the debris from our path as we inched forward. I’d never been so exhausted in my life, but even that couldn’t prevent me from spending every second cursing the additional time before we could warn Raffar about his cousin.
We reached Gluwfyall shortly before dinner. The town was so different from Baaldarstad that it was hard to believe they were in the same country. Instead of a flat town surrounding a monolith, Gluwfyall was a half-circle on the shore of a small lake. Beyond the lake, jagged mountains rose up, separating Farnskag from Svertya. Despite its small size, the smooth expanse of water, so similar to Azzaria’s sea, brought tears to my eyes. Our driver rushed through town to a large home just off the shore.
Freyad promised she’d have someone send for Raffar and would come by within a half hour. Then the guards went to their quarters as a servant led me up a wide, elegant, yet creaky stairway and down a hallway decorated with alternating leaf and tree patterns and landscape paintings. He let me in to the suite Raffar had been using since he’d arrived, and left me in peace.
A Dragonbird in the Fern Page 22