Imber

by Tyffany Hackett

  “I have business in town.” Chestnut eyes locked onto me again, and I noted the quickly smoothed flick of surprise on Jyn’s shadowed face.

  Thrais was a small city. We were the central path for most of the trade towns which meant we frequently saw visitors and the main town accommodated for the traffic—most of the homes were set to the far outskirts and only a singular wide road cut between the shops. This branched off where needed, but the storefronts along the central path were all fairly similar. Small buildings of one or two stories with stone walls and thatched roofs. The largest of these was the forge, the smallest the bakery that sat tucked across from Meryn’s shop.

  Slightly past the town gates was a small watering hole. We passed off our reins to a boy who was attending mounts for coin. I flipped him a piece of gold and delighted in watching his eyes widen before I strode off between shops. Jyn hurried to keep up, and I paused long enough to say quietly,

  “I’ll meet you at Meryn’s.”

  Jyn’s frown grew. “Absolutely not. We went over this not a day ago.”

  “I need to speak to Camion quickly.” Hesitation—I knew he trusted Camion. He still shook his head, so I added, “I’ll be fast. Go.”

  The shadowed lines of his face flattened into absolute calm as he watched me close the door of the smithy behind me. I severely doubted he was going to leave, which meant I’d have to keep my voice low. His Elven ears would be my undoing.

  I scanned the room quickly. Camion was off to one side behind a large anvil, his hammer pounding a steady rhythm into the orange steel in front of him. I would have thought he hadn’t seen me if he hadn’t skipped a beat, but he didn’t pause until he doused the blade in a vat of dark liquid beside him. Unlike the Camion I was used to, this iteration breathed heavily, drenched in sweat and stuck with ash. His shirt clung to his muscled torso under the heavy smithy apron, from which he pulled a rag and wiped at his forehead. The effort was wasted, he’d only smeared the ash further. “You know, if I didn’t recognize those boots I might be suspicious.”

  I scoffed and pulled my hood back. “What’s wrong with my boots?”

  “I would recognize your boots anywhere.” Camion shrugged. “What can I do for you, Tyli?”

  I ignored the nickname and leaned against a table covered in tools I wasn’t familiar with. I stared at the rusted steel for a long minute before I said, “I need your help.”

  He stiffened. Realization spread over his face as his eyes scanned the shop. “Where’s Jyn?”

  “Outside. He’s fine, I’m fine.” I looked up into his eyes. “I need swords. Two of them. I’ll pay you whatever you need, but you have to keep this between us.”

  Camion crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s this about? You have an entire armory. Why not take swords from there?”

  “Inventory is taken twice a day,” I muttered. “Devlyn would notice immediately.”

  “They’re your swords. What’s going on? Does this have something to do with those assassins from the other day?” he pressed.

  I watched warily as he closed the space between us. Avoiding his eyes, I picked at a splinter on the table until I felt the light grasp of his hand on my elbow. Releasing a long breath, I said, “I can’t tell you everything. Not yet, and before you ask, Jyn doesn’t know what I’m up to yet either. I’m planning to tell him, don’t worry. I want to straighten things out first.”

  “Keeping secrets isn’t like you. Especially from Jyn.”

  I plucked the splinter off. “Will you help me or not?”

  “Tyli,” he said softly. I shivered as his fingertips sketched a light path down my forearm. “What’s really going on here? I’m worried about you. You’re not acting like yourself.”

  “I’ll fill you in on everything soon. I promise. I know I said I’d tell you when I saw you next but there are too many ears in town.”

  Camion leaned over the table on his elbows. For a moment, he was silent. “I wish you trusted me.”

  “I do,” I said. I grabbed his arm and tugged lightly until he met my eyes. “I want to tell you, Camion. I promise. I’ll tell you everything the second I’m able. When it’s safe.”

  He stared at me for a long minute, considering, before sliding his hand up to grip mine. His thumb ran a slow circle over the back before he asked, “You’ll tell me if you’re in trouble?”

  “I swear on Nahara.”

  Camion leaned closer. “I want—”

  He didn’t get to finish the statement. The rear door of the smithy banged open, and he jerked away from me as I whipped my hood up. Fentyn strolled in, his eyebrows lifting in my direction. He grinned, a large chunk of his canine missing from the right side.

  “Who’s this?” His voice was gruff, his words slightly slurred. The strong scent of alcohol clung to him, and his graying ponytail whipped around to slap his rounded stomach. I backed toward the door at the front, Camion side-stepping into the space between us.

  “No one. A paid customer. Are you here to help out now?”

  Fentyn’s only response was a rolling laugh before he slammed himself into a chair by the wall. I heard him snort about a nap before I let the door fall closed behind me. Jyn paced the road in front of the smithy, his expression shadowed into black by his hood. He didn’t make a sound as he followed me to Meryn’s shop either, and his silence made my stomach flip. I planned to tell him, I did. But not yet.

  Meryn’s shop was much like her home—hung with dried plants and spaciously cluttered with knick knacks. Two long counters sat packed corner to corner with jewelry and charms, trinkets and divination ingredients. In the back corner, a roughly built bookshelf was over-stuffed with ancient-looking leather books bearing strange titles, not all in the common tongue. More stacks of books littered the floor and the only person we saw upon stepping in was a slender girl with light brown skin and thick mahogany curls. She stiffened at our cloaks. When we dropped our hoods her relief was palpable.

  “I’m glad to see you, Your Majesty,” Sylvr said. “I’m so sorry about your mother.”

  Her voice was soft and melodic. She was the perfectly calm partner to balance Meryn, who would gladly drop a cauldron outside the shop and shriek at passersby for the fun of their reactions.

  “Has there been strange activity in town?” Jyn scanned her face.

  Sylvr nodded. “Every day, a few more figures in hoods roam through. They ask Meryn for potions of luck, wisdom, strength . . . and then they vanish and we never see them again.”

  “Natylia! I wasn’t expecting you!” Meryn bounced from the back room and pulled me into a tight hug, turning to hug Jyn before she added, “I hope they weren’t being a bother, Sylvr.”

  “Of course not.”

  I noted the way Meryn’s gaze lingered on the taller girl, who was determinedly staring at her broom now, drawing dust up in grand sweeping gestures.

  “Meryn, can we speak in the back?”

  Jyn narrowed his eyes at my request but kept silent. Internally, I’d wager he was ready to explode. His expression however was still, even. Watchful.

  I followed Meryn behind the curtain, my step bending the one floorboard in the doorway that would release a loud squeal. We both cringed. When the beaded curtain fell back into place, Meryn waved her hand and the sound of the broom vanished.

  “Minor sound barrier,” she said. “Since, I’m assuming you still haven’t told Jyn?”

  “I plan to. Tonight, when we get back to the palace. I needed to make sure Camion would help, so everything would be done before Jyn could protest.”

  “He’s still going to be hurt.” Meryn leveled her sparkling hazel eyes on me. “Did you even talk to Camion yet?”

  “I tried. He wants details, so I think I’m going to have to do this another way. Maybe Jyn can help after all. I don’t know. He’s so opposed. But I want to prove I can do this. That I can protect my kingdom.”

  “Or paint a greater target on your back. Are you sure about all of this?” She looped a
curl around her finger and pulled until the hair was straight, releasing so that the piece sprang back into place. “Don’t glare at me. After your mother’s funeral, going into the forest at night . . . You’ve always been kind of impetuous, but this is a new level . . .”

  I sighed. Meryn wasn’t wrong. I simply didn’t think ignoring the information we’d learned was a good idea. Jyn wasn’t going to agree with me, and I knew I was taking a huge risk challenging his advice on this. The more I thought everything over, though, the more I couldn’t shake the feeling that we needed to look into these scepters. Such an immense amount of power only days from my palace? There was a threat, and one I was obligated to look into. I didn’t know how I knew. I was merely following a feeling. “I’ll tell them both, then.”

  Meryn stared at me, measuring whatever she saw in my face. “You are the queen. Your bodyguard certainly doesn’t get to boss you around.”

  “If Jyn were only a guard you know that would be the case.” I sighed. “But you two are my family. I value both of your opinions, even if I think his is wrong. If neither of you think this is a good idea—”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I want to help you do this. But I don’t think excluding Jyn is the way to go about things. Besides, you need to be focused on your mother’s funeral.”

  I tried to tell her that those thoughts were too much, that I needed this distraction. That I couldn’t solely focus on the funeral, or I would sink back into the hollow misery that had tailed me for days after her death. That every time Annalea and I talked, or passed in the corridor, the dead look in her blue-streaked lavender eyes killed me.

  Instead I said, “You’re right. Thanks Meryn.”

  She waved her hand again and the soft scuffles of the broom returned. I could hear the steps of Jyn’s feet, back and forth, back and forth. My stomach knotted uncomfortably. When I walked into the main shop and met Jyn’s eyes again, I recoiled from the pure hurt that stared back at me. He cleared his expression quickly though, so quickly that I might have missed the subtle cues had I known him less.

  “Thank you, Meryn, Sylvr,” I said as I pulled my hood up.

  Stepping into the street was a return to our silent bubble, sharply contrasted by the bustle all around us. I had to admit, there was a weird comfort in not being recognized. I was walking among my own people, and they had no idea who I was. They were wary, because of our cloaks, but no one looked at me with anger or sharply contrasting reverence. The few glances in our direction were quick and uninterested. Being hidden in the open was refreshing.

  Meryn’s shop was only a few doors from the smithy, and I jumped slightly when the door swung open beside us. I half expected to see Fentyn investigating the cloaked person his apprentice had been so quick to protect, but Camion slid into step beside us, waiting until we were clear of passersby to mutter, “I’ll help. You owe me though.”

  He broke off casually with a nudge and wink. Jyn eyed Camion’s back warily but still didn’t ask. We mounted our horses and rode back to the palace after I paid the boy another gold piece. I knew when we returned Jyn was going to have questions, angry questions, but with Meryn, and now Camion . . . with those two, we might be able to manage this crazy endeavor of mine. With a plan, facing Jyn’s wrath didn’t seem so bad.

  Chapter 19

  I was thorough in grooming my horse, careful to brush her coat, mane, tail, and to pick the stones from her hooves. Jyn trailed far too close, eager for a chance to pounce. His agitation at my dawdling was palpable. Waves of temper pulsed off him. At his sides his fists clenched, and the tight set line of his jaw caught my eye.

  We were halfway back to the palace when Lucian stormed out of the front doors. His expression was a model of Jyn’s, and I sighed. Exactly what I needed, two angry men. I couldn’t begin to imagine why Lucian was so agitated though. The sun wasn’t high when I’d left, and even now the light was only barely cresting the sky’s peak. We hadn’t been gone long.

  “Where have you been?” he demanded.

  “I told you that Jyn and I were going for a ride.” Jyn flexed and stretched his arms as he stepped forward, his position maybe a step in front of mine.

  “Yes, and didn’t you say we would have an archery lesson this afternoon?”

  “I said we might. Lucian, it’s barely midday. What’s going on with you?”

  “You kept me waiting,” he scoffed.

  “We’ve barely been gone. Plus, we came back early.”

  “I don’t appreciate what you’re insinuating,” Jyn interjected smoothly. “Do you think you have some claim to her time? Or perhaps, her?”

  Lucian’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t think anything of the sort.”

  “Oh really?” Jyn stared down his nose at the prince.

  “I can speak for myself,” I snapped, turning my glare in Jyn’s direction. His eyes narrowed but I turned my attention back to the prince. “Lucian, you’re out of line. I don’t answer to you, and you certainly don’t need to know what I do with my time.”

  “My sincerest apologies, Your Majesty,” he said stiffly. “I was simply worried for your safety.”

  “I go nowhere without Jyn. I’m perfectly safe.”

  “Are you always so safe with him though?” Lucian tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “I saw a very different scene play out at your ball.”

  Jyn cracked his knuckles and popped his neck. “I’m more than willing to test your abilities.”

  “Was it not you who said that if not for Jyn, I might have been lost that night?” I asked.

  Lucian’s cheeks flushed. He pursed his lips and spun on a heel, striding across the gravel to the palace. I rubbed my palm against my cheek. “What was that about?”

  Jyn crossed his arms and stared at me pointedly.

  “Fine. You and I will talk and then we can talk about the prince.”

  ***

  The moment the library door closed, Jyn was off. Words spilled from his lips in a tangled mess. I could barely make out the questions he asked in between. The final words he spoke before he slumped into a chair were soft and simple as he ruffled his hair between his hands. “What’s going on with you, Natylia? Why don’t you trust me?”

  He blinked hard with the latter words, and my heart dropped. I shifted my gaze to the table in front of me.

  “I trust you implicitly! More than anyone I know. But you don’t want me to do this, and that’s not an option. I thought if I arranged everything myself you’d be less inclined to argue.”

  Jyn went rigid. “Are you having Camion take you into that cursed forest?”

  Shaking my head slightly, I explained my plans. I laid out every detail, from when I wanted to leave to why I’d chosen the night of Mother’s funeral, only omitting my brief conversation with Camion.

  I had already prepared a letter to the Council which stated that Annalea was to stand in my stead while I was called away. The Council would officially hold control while I was gone and, if I didn’t return, my sister was to be trained.

  Jyn’s eyes were closed, rested against the knuckles of his fists. “I still don’t understand. I mean, I’ve heard your explanation, but I can’t grasp the idea. Why the night of your mother’s funeral? Don’t you want to be around . . .?”

  “I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about that morning, seeing the room. Seeing her. I need to get out of here and do something. Anything.” My hands shook but I pressed. “I can’t ignore this. She didn’t get the chance to tell me her own thoughts on the matter, and I can’t shake the feeling that if I don’t go I’ll be failing my kingdom before I even start. They already look at me like I’m the worst thing that could happen to Thrais. I don’t want to prove them right.”

  “Natylia, let this go. Please. No one’s going to take that scepter out of the forest.”

  My eyes slid to where Jyn’s hands sat tangled in his lap. “People have been going into the forest, Jyn. More than usual. Even Meryn noticed. Someone will succeed, so why not us?”


  “None of them have returned Natylia. You can shoot a bow, albeit with no confidence, and you can kind of hold your own with a sword, but you don’t have the endurance for a real fight. Plus, we have no idea what lives in that forest. There could be absolutely nothing.” Jyn was kneading his temples with his fingertips. “Or there could be things beyond even my skill.”

  “Camion hikes in the forest now and again.”

  “You said you didn’t ask him to take you. What did you really go to him for, then?”

  I hesitated. I’d really hoped that I could convince Jyn before I explained my preparations. “Meryn has already agreed to go with me. I asked him to make our swords.”

  “You could have asked a trained swordsman to go with you and instead you asked him to make your weapons?” Jyn shook his head. “In either case, you have an entire armory at your disposal.”

  “So I’ve been told,” I huffed. “If I take swords from the armory, they’ll be noticed. Why would I need weapons? Devlyn would go mad with worry. If I buy the swords from Camion, no one but us would know. I don’t plan to make my absence public knowledge.”

  Jyn was silent. He wouldn’t look at me, and I hated it. I didn’t know what that meant. I knew when I decided to take this on myself that there was a chance I’d make him angry, but seeing the look in his eyes, the tension that straightened the lines of his body . . . I hated that I was the one who had caused him grief. I knew I was right, that we couldn’t ignore this—but I didn’t enjoy hurting Jyn to do so.

  “I don’t understand you lately, Princess. You haven’t snuck around behind my back since you were, what, fourteen?” Jyn rubbed his palms together. “I have to listen to you. You know that. If you tell me to stay here or relieve me of my position, formally I can’t argue with you. I love you, and my job, but you’re still my boss. I can’t in good consciousness agree with this idea, but if you’re determined I’m not going to let you go alone.”