Imber

by Tyffany Hackett

  "It's not a situation you're so unfamiliar with."

  "Princess, I wouldn't wish what I went through on anyone," Jyn breathed. "I had to quickly learn to cope to survive. You girls don't know that life. I hope you never have to."

  He was kneading his hands on his lap, his eyes pinned to the wall. I scooted myself down the bed until I was next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. The scent of him, the sweet coconut and hazelnut, tickled my nose and unconsciously I relaxed. Where Jyn was, I was safe.

  “I’m sorry. All I could think about was my duty. What has to be done, what her murder means for me. I’ve been incredibly selfish. But when I close my eyes . . . ” I shivered and Jyn draped an arm around my shoulders. “I can’t get the image out of my head, Jyn. Everything is still so clear and I keep hearing Annalea scream and cry . . . I’m sorry I shut you out. I didn’t know how else to manage.”

  Jyn tightened his arm around me. “The image will fade with time. I promise.”

  “Do you think . . . do you think the Shadows were involved?” I paused. “Mother didn’t have enemies, or if she did I wasn’t aware of them. She and Audri fought on and off, but I never felt like Audri hated her enough to send assassins. But someone did this, and the intruders didn’t alert any of the numerous guards all over the palace. And then, with the Shadows arrival today . . . I’ve never felt so unsafe within my own walls.”

  A flicker of emotion cross Jyn’s eyes, but his voice was even when he said, “I sincerely hope that their visit wasn’t meant to indicate their involvement.”

  Usually the victims of the Shadows were a bloody mess. Comparatively, I had to admit that Mother’s execution had been swift and neat, but I couldn’t think of anyone else who could have snuck in and out so silently. Then again, if we could prove that the Shadows were involved, the Council would have to step in. Maybe that was why they’d altered their technique.

  The Shadows were generally in Audri’s pocket—she was the only one who could afford their services regularly or would want to. Mother’s murder would be a call to war, though. I couldn’t imagine Audri was that desperate, for anything.

  “Jyn?”

  “Yes?”

  “What happened to Mother’s guard?”

  “The . . . the same thing that happened to your mother.” He winced. “I’m sorry.”

  I cringed and lowered my eyes to the floor. A thought occurred to me. “What did Valeria mean? When she said a child wasn’t part of the contract?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted. “You know my parents were killed, and you know that I’ve always suspected the Shadows were behind it. I’m assuming she was confirming that. Though I don’t know what she thought to gain by doing so.”

  “Maybe she was trying to unsettle you. Provoke you.”

  “She was doing a fine job for a few minutes there.”

  “But you didn’t lose control of your temper. That’s what matters.”

  Jyn tightened the arm around my shoulders. “You would have been endangered, and Camion. She wasn’t worth that.”

  “Thanks, Jyn.”

  He nodded. “I need some sleep. I’m sorry, Princess. I’m so tired, I’m losing focus,” Jyn said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Will you be alright alone?”

  “Of course.”

  He nodded and pulled me against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “If the Shadows are behind this, they won’t touch you, Princess. I give you my word.”

  I wondered vaguely if his words were a promise to me or a vow to himself, but he shook slightly when he released me. His eyes traced my room again before he closed his own door. I had always been curious as to what would happen if Jyn came face to face with the Shadows. If he would try to fight, to avenge his parents. I guess even Jyn had his limits.

  Or maybe some things mattered more than revenge.

  Chapter 17

  I woke early, coated in a thin sheen of cold sweat. My chest ached against the stuffy weight of the air in my room. I slammed open the window and gulped in the cold air, savoring the sensation that chilled my throat. Tremors shook through my limbs and my breaths turned to coughs. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to cry or be sick.

  “Hey, you okay?” I hadn’t heard Jyn come in. He gripped my arm, an anchor, and my stomach steadied. I took several drawn out breaths before I slid to the floor in front of the window and rubbed my temples.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” I said, taking a long steadying breath.

  “I heard the window. What happened?”

  “Dream,” I muttered. He knelt and held out a leather tie for me to loop around my hair. “I’m . . . I’m starving.”

  Jyn’s face lit up in surprised delight. He helped me to my feet, then waited outside while I washed my face and changed into a soft black dress. A loud, violent rumble erupted from my stomach as we stepped onto the staircase—as though my stomach could be consciously aware that I was nearing food. But the double doors swung open and we both tensed, thoughts of breakfast put to the side.

  Lucian strolled in, pace quick. His eyes widened when he noticed us on the stairs. Jyn had pulled his dagger free and he bent to tuck the blade away, his mouth a tight set line.

  “Natylia, I’m so sorry.” Lucian crossed the foyer in a few quick strides, skipping steps as he climbed them before he scooped me into a crushing hug.

  “We didn’t know if you’d be able to return.”

  “I rode straight back.” His eyes scaled my figure quickly as he relaxed his grip, pausing when he met my eyes. “How long since you've eaten?”

  “You can tell?” I raised an eyebrow. He waited. “I haven’t eaten in . . . a few days.”

  “Let’s get breakfast. Your lessons can wait as long as you need, and I’ll teach you everything I can. If the Council harasses you, let them deal with me. I’m so sorry.” Lucian paused and his eyes slid to Jyn. “To both of you, sincerely. I hope I can help.”

  Lucian’s hair was slicked back with what I thought might be a light oil, and his clothing was black from head to toe. I appreciated the gesture. Jyn seemed to notice too, and had simply nodded politely when addressed.

  “We were going this way already, but I feel like you have an ulterior motive to your interest in my eating,” I said to Lucian’s back, but he turned to smirk at me.

  “I didn’t stop riding last night, so yes, I might be a bit hungry.” He stopped long enough to focus my attention. “But trust me, I can tell that you haven’t eaten. Since that day, right?”

  I nodded and he jerked his head at the table. Jyn grabbed my arm and said, “Eat slowly or nothing will stay. You’ll get sick.”

  “Join us?” Jyn hesitated. His glance slid to Lucian who had moved to help a tiny servant with an overly large pitcher of juice. I shrugged. “If you don’t, I’ll gorge myself.”

  He threw his head back dramatically and sighed, but took the seat next to me. I carefully avoided the chair at the end of the table. That wasn’t a commitment I was ready for yet. I averted my eyes. Jyn nudged me with his elbow, caught my eye. He knew. Of course, he knew.

  “So. What now?” Lucian had taken the seat across from Jyn, respectfully not taking the chair that was designated as Annalea’s.

  “We eat.” Jyn’s voice was a bit too even as he filled his plate.

  “And after?”

  Jyn’s mouth opened and I spoke up, cutting him off quickly. “Jyn and I are going to see Meryn. But I can send a servant to clear the rooms for you. Is the suite you stayed in before okay?”

  “That would be appreciated, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Make yourself comfortable, if you need anything let me know and I’ll cover the costs. Would you like for me to send for you at dinner?”

  “Definitely. I could use a nap, if I’m honest.” Lucian flashed a grin and loaded his fork before he asked, “So how are you doing with . . . you know, everything?”

  “Better.”

  I debated giving him more intim
ate details but refrained. Instead, I focused on piling eggs, starberry glazed ham, and toasted bread on my plate. Jyn shot me a side-eyed glance, and I noted the sharp intake of breath and heavy sigh that followed. He had seen me shovel several bites into my mouth, then. I almost laughed but the toss of my stomach immediately after made me regret my lack of discipline—I might feel ravenous but my stomach was frail right now. Everything I ate would come back immediately if I wasn’t cautious. I sipped nonchalantly at a glass of milk while I let the churning settle, purposely ignoring the smug look on Jyn’s face. I couldn’t tell if Lucian had noticed any of the exchange. He certainly didn’t comment if he did.

  ***

  Lucian went to see to his rooms after our meal. I had left Raye to oversee the other servants as they made sure everything was to his satisfaction. She seemed delighted at the prospect. Meanwhile Jyn and I decided to visit our friend.

  I didn’t really need to knock on Meryn’s door, but I did out of habit. The “come in” that echoed out was faint, and when she appeared in the hall even her curls seemed flat on her mourning dress. She threw her arms around my waist before I had the chance to say hello and choked off a sob as she said, “I’m so sorry.”

  A knot crept up my throat and I swallowed it down, hugging her back. When she pulled away, I paused to examine her face. She looked tired. Her hazel eyes were watery, and her lips trembled with the effort to not cry.

  “I’m okay. Really.”

  “But you came into town and you looked so—” Her hands smoothed her skirts, a weak attempt to compose herself. She looked to Jyn. “Is she really okay?”

  “Better,” he offered. “She’s better than she was.”

  “Have you eaten? You look peaked.”

  “Meryn, I’m fine, really. Thank you. We ate before we came down, and I have a question for you.”

  “I’m getting you more food,” she said, vaguely gesturing that we should get comfortable while she vanished into the pantry. Her arms were loaded with fruits and sweet breads when she returned.

  “Don’t eat too much,” Jyn said again, softly. The glare Meryn shot him was pure poison.

  “She’s been throwing up on and off for three days on top of not eating. But be my guest, encourage her to keep eating. That mess will be all yours.”

  Meryn stared at him. “Throwing up too? I suppose that does make sense with . . .” She muttered to herself but moved to the teapot and started to drop things in. After a few moments, the room began to smell delightfully sweet. Meryn added a pinch of tea leaves and let a handful steep for a few more minutes before she strained them and passed me a cup. There was a slight licorice taste to the drink and the cup was warm against my palms.

  “So, what was your question?” She curled herself on the rug in front of the fireplace, her own teacup resting on the stone.

  “What do you know about the Cloaked Shadows?” Meryn and Jyn both tensed and I saw her shoot him an uncomfortable glance.

  “Not much. You’re not insinuating . . .”

  I nodded. “They came to the palace yesterday. Valeria claimed they were there to issue condolences, but . . .”

  “They were at the palace? Devlyn did nothing, the guards?”

  “Frozen into a stupor. They didn’t move for hours after the Shadows left, at least the ones in the foyer.”

  “Well . . . honestly, I suspected the Shadows before. That they visited the palace unexpectedly only makes me more suspicious.” She glanced at Jyn apologetically before adding, “For them, this would have been simple work. A normal day or contract. The real question is who hired the Shadows? They almost never work off contract. Hiring them would be a bold move even for Audri, and as far as I know she didn’t mind your mother.”

  I swallowed more tea, my eyes locked on the dancing flames beside me. I chewed at my lower lip before Meryn spoke again, her words carefully measured.

  “We’ll figure out who did this, Natylia. Don’t stress yourself out even more. You already have so much going on. Isn’t the Council looking into the murder?” She tapped her lip, then added, “I don’t know if this is the time, but I found something for you. Maybe what I’ve learned can relieve some of the burden on your mind.”

  She climbed to her feet and disappeared down the hall. The gentle rap of knuckles on wood broke the momentary quiet—the secret door. Even I couldn’t get into that room without her. The wood of the door was tuned to her magic. I listened to the gentle taps of her feet on the stairs once, twice, and the click of a door latch before she returned to drop a heavy leather-bound book with a silver clasp on my lap. I raised an eyebrow at her as I flipped the pages open, a slip of painted parchment marking the page I needed.

  “Stave of Thanatos?” I glanced up at her for confirmation. Meryn pushed a curl from her face and nodded.

  “Meryn . . . Valeria mentioned Thanatos.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes. Thanatos, and Eurybia, Boreas, and Cybele. She said Thanatos was the child of Valdis and incredibly powerful.”

  Meryn chewed at her thumb nail. “That confirms my theory that these are the right scepters then.” She gestured to the page. “A long time ago, after humans had finally gotten a real foothold in Araenna, the first and second generation of Titans disappeared. But the offspring that remained—these third generation Titans—were almost as powerful as their parents.” Meryn paused, leaning back against the silver stone of the fireplace. She crossed her freckled arms. “Actually, Nahara was a first generation Titan, and an extraordinarily powerful one at that. She was one of the few Titans that tried to help the humans survive—they helped them build houses, ports, cities. There are rumors that a few of them even fell in love with humans, thus explaining their sudden disappearance. Supposedly, somewhere out in the world Nahara still walks in human form, bored with immortal existence. I don’t know if there’s any truth to that, but clearly the humans never forgot her.”

  Jyn snorted but Meryn pressed on. “Anyway. The last four children that lingered were not happy about the steadily increasing numbers of humans. Unlike their parents, the third generation had no interest whatsoever in sharing their lands. The idea of helping the humans thrive was absolutely appalling. But the four weren’t without their own problems.

  “Valeria wasn’t wrong when she told you Thanatos was the most powerful. As she said he’s the child of Valdis, known to you as the Ancient of the Nether, and Draven of Chaos. There are rumors that say the Cloaked Shadows themselves worship Valdis. No one has heard them confirm this though.”

  “She did say ‘the revered Valdis’ when she referenced him,” I recalled.

  Meryn picked at the handle of her teacup and sighed. “I’m not entirely surprised. The only Titan more powerful than Valdis was Nahara herself. Eurybia, Boreas, and Cybele knew that even when the humans were dealt with, Thanatos had no intention of sharing ‘his’ world. Even with them. So, they went to the humans—and the Elves.”

  Her eyes flicked to Jyn, who watched her intently. I refilled my teacup and took another sip before Meryn spoke again. Ailuros jumped down from a hidden location to rub against Jyn’s leg, purring loudly.

  “The Elves aren’t generally inclined to help humans. No one’s sure when they came to Araenna, and the past has shown that the Elves aren’t interested in sharing their stories outside of their own kind.”

  “Or inside, in most cases,” Jyn muttered.

  “Or inside,” Meryn agreed. “But the Elves had definitely been watching the Titans and when the three admitted that their brother might be a problem, the Elves agreed to help. Under a condition. They needed a piece of the life essence from each Titan. Now, the story varies here. Many say that the Elves aided with the task out of curiosity of what would happen when the powers were combined. Personally I think they were looking for insurance against the three. If I were them, I would have done so. A Titan can be moderately controlled by even the smallest piece of their life essence.

  “Either way, the three stole a ch
unk of Thanatos’ life essence while he slept one night and returned the piece to the Elves. They molded the four pieces into individual gemstones, mounting them into what is now called the Stave of Thanatos, before they wielded it against him. Unprepared, Thanatos offered no resistance and the Elves and Titans locked him away.”

  Meryn motioned to a picture in the book on my lap. I glanced down. The Stave of Thanatos was crowned with a large orb of sparkling fire obsidian, polished to perfection and wrapped between twisted branches of maple wood.

  “Fire obsidian? I’ve been told that’s the gem used in offering to Valdis,” I said.

  “You’re correct.” Meryn nodded. “I’d love to meet the fool who decided to present Valdis with the very gem used to imprison his son.”

  “So, what happened to the other three?”

  “The humans were grateful that the Elves had agreed to help, but they weren’t entirely satisfied with the solution. They remembered the stories of the Titans of old, and how helpful some had been, and hoped that maybe these Titans could be convinced to help. But Eurybia, Cybele, and Boreas lashed out and the humans grew scared. They hunted down the Stave. The accounts of where vary too, though most seem to claim Mt Cerbius. Master crafters broke the stave into three pieces and the wood was reformed so that each stone now had their own scepter, modeled almost identically after the stave in smaller forms. The essence of Thanatos was broken into three pieces and each scepter bore a chunk in its core.

  “The humans had no idea what they were doing, or what they actually wielded, but without much magic and no help from the Elves, they had to hope that fate would bless the designs. So, the scepters were passed, one for each of the kingdoms, and the Titans seemed ill-fated to do the humans bidding.”