Crown of Bones

by A. K. Wilder

  “True, but look.” Back up they pop, so soon after going to ground. Brogal never worked with me this way. I should have held De’ral to form years ago and come here sooner where there are warrior instructors—ouster too. Most of those class are from Sierrak and the Aturnian realms. My eyes narrow. I’ll train with those who will be my enemies if war breaks?

  As I chew on that, I glance behind and see a green-robe savant with an armed phantom—a sword-carrying beast with huge eyes and protruding teeth—catching up to us.

  “Good afternoon to you,” Belair stops to say. “I trust we are headed toward the dining hall?”

  I smile, trying not to be obvious about sizing him up. Every visiting green-robe is our competition, after all.

  “Two green-robes coming from the infirmary?” He pushes back his sable hair and grins wide. “You must be the ones from Baiseen.”

  I nudge Belair before he starts babbling about me being the Heir to the throne. I may not be good at languages, but I know a Northern Aturnian accent when I hear one. That’s the only realm currently banned from Aku, sanctioned until they sign peace treaties with Palrio and Tangeen. “I’m Marcus, and this is Belair.” I state our first names only. Could he be a spy? In the halls of Aku? Surely not…

  “I’m Destan, green-robe with a warrior, as you can see, from Southern Aturnia.” He opens his hand out to his phantom. “And you raise?”

  I smooth down my fine quilted green robe. “Warrior.”

  “Both of us,” Belair adds.

  “In Zarah’s class?” Destan doesn’t wait for an answer. “She’s tough as Sierrak brown bears, I promise. Be ready.”

  “We are.” I look him in the eyes. “The dining hall?”

  “In the main temple, on the right. You’re about there.” He points the way. “It’s Nonnova today.”

  “Pardon?” Belair asks.

  “Oh, you’ll know soon enough.” He dips his head to us both, respectful. “I’m off for special training. See you on the field tomorrow.” He smiles his very wide grin and jogs off with his phantom. In perfect sync. It’s hard not to conclude that we’re behind. Way behind.

  “Friendly, wasn’t he?” Belair says as we keep walking.

  “Very. But did you hear the accent?”

  “Aturnian. He said Southern, but I would have picked Northern, the way he said ‘about’ like it was a boat.” Belair lowers his voice. “Which means he should be banned from Aku, am I right?”

  “Unless something’s changed in the last few days.” I’m doubtful the sanctions have been recalled. It’s long been a point of contention, the way Northern Aturnia occupies lands it does not rightfully possess.

  “The others might know something,” Belair says, then lets out a whoop and points. “Look! It’s the fountain.” He grabs my sleeve and pulls me toward it at a run.

  And there it is, more spectacular than any rendition hanging in the Sanctuary halls, with water spouting from the launching phantoms, vessel-bearing savants in the midst. We rush to the edge and stand there, misted in spray, transfixed. It’s huge. The sculpture’s three times the height of grown men, and the water spouts double that distance into the air.

  “Are you ready?” Belair asks.

  I reach for my coin and Belair does the same. Together, on three, we toss our hopes high and make our wishes.

  But as I watch the coin spin end over end, reaching its apex and plummeting into the churning pool, my stomach turns to rock and sinks with it. So much rests on my success, and we are already three days behind before we start.

  …

  Belair and I enter the maelstrom they call the dining room and eventually spot Ash. My shoulders relax at the sight of her. “Ash!” I shout across the room, but she doesn’t hear me in the din. She’s with Samsen and Piper at a middle table. Kaylin’s not with them. I assume he’s on his way to the other end of the world by now. That’s a relief.

  Is it?

  De’ral’s question makes me pause.

  It’s not exactly a relief. Kaylin protected Ash. He protected us all. I have to admit that, even if I don’t fully trust him or enjoy his flirtations with her. I’ve never had to share Ash before, and if I’m honest, I’m worried they grew even closer while I slept. Worried might not be the best word—I’m not the wordsmith that Ash is—but we’re as close as any two people can be. And now, this sailor…

  This sailor, what?

  “That’s the problem. I don’t know.”

  As I weave my way to the table, it dawns that I haven’t properly thanked Kaylin for getting us here on time, against all odds. I must make amends and put these rogue feelings aside.

  “Ash!” I shout again from a few lengths away.

  She spins around, then she’s out of her seat and running.

  “About time!” She kisses Belair on the cheek and turns to hug me. “And you!” She goes up on tiptoe and holds my face in her hands.

  I wrap her in my arms and lift her off her feet. “Thanks for the visit,” I say. “I heard you came but I didn’t wake.”

  “You’re up now,” she says with a grin. She leads me to the table and I notice the glances we receive. No, not we. Just Ash, and they aren’t friendly. Is that boy snickering? I stare him down, muscles in my arms tightening, and turn to my recorder. “Did you do something to upset everyone?”

  “Yeah, actually. I was born non-savant.”

  They’re prejudiced? I push up the sleeves of my robe, half a mind to go and give them a talking to. Aku is supposed to be the most enlightened realm in Amassia. They welcome all, um, savants… My stomach clenches. “This is unacceptable. I’m going to—”

  “Calm down, Marcus.” She sits and pulls me into the chair next to her. “It’s nothing I’m not used to.”

  “In Baiseen? Surely not so pronounced as this.”

  “Surely?” She laughs outright. “Maybe not so you would notice, Marcus, but I live it.”

  “Mistress Yuki wants to see you both, and you, Belair,” Samsen cuts in. “Tomorrow morning.”

  “Before classes start, I hope.” I’m still frowning at Ash’s revelation. She can’t think I see her as inferior, can she?

  “What will you say?” Samsen asks, pulling my attention back to him. I force a smile, unable to count how many rules we’ve broken on our way here. Raising untrained warrior phantoms. Killing with untrained warrior phantoms. Crossing Northern Aturnia territory with untrained warrior phantoms…

  Maybe I can count them.

  “We’ll figure it out tonight.” Ash answers for me while passing a serving platter. “Steamed rice with leaks and poached bass.”

  I sniff it.

  “Delicious,” Belair says and fills his bowl.

  “Looks like Nonnova fare.” I poke it with my fork.

  “That’s because it is,” Ash says. “Each day’s recipe comes from a different realm. Aku honors them all.”

  Belair turns to me and we say at the same time, “Nonnovan day.”

  Ash chuckles. “Yes, now eat up.”

  “When’s it Palrion day?” I take a tentative bite.

  “Don’t be a baby.” She punches my arm. “Eat.”

  When the others turn their attention to the food and conversations, I lean toward Ash. “Kaylin gone?” I say it lightly but really, it’s still weighing on me.

  “He’s fishing.”

  “Still here, then?” Neutral. Neutral. Neutral.

  “He is.” She smiles, and her eyes shine.

  Is that excitement for us being here? For him?

  “Marcus, it’s spectacular in the library. You’ve no idea the size of it.”

  Ah, for her books, of course. “I’ll find out soon enough.” There will be a lot of reading in my training schedule, on top of physical tests, endurance, fighting…

  “Have you been on the field yet
?” Piper asks.

  “We came straight from the infirmary, passed the fountain, made a wish…” Ash’s worried frown catches my eye. “What’s that look for?”

  “It’s very demanding, from what I’ve seen. And, there’s a lot of competition here,” Ash says. “I hope you both pace yourselves.”

  Belair rubs his hands together. “Can’t wait!”

  “We’re fit and ready,” I say and take a big bite of rice. “There’s nothing to worry about there.” But a cloud gathers over me as I study my competition around the room. How many are Aturnian? Or from Gollnar? More to the point, how many raise warriors, and how advanced is their training?

  Samsen and Piper outline the details of the week, details and protocols that I likely would’ve learned had I been more coherent at the first assembly. Week one is meant to be the hardest. Some will drop out of their own accord; others will fail and be asked to leave. Not that having to drop out is the worst thing for most savants. Humiliating, for sure, but the younger ones can try again next year. If they fail a second time, it just means they won’t go on to teach at their sanctuary or take a higher-level role in service to their realm.

  For me it’s a death sentence. Failing the elimination trial will cost me the throne—and my father’s favor, not that I’ve ever really been in his good graces. But what’s more, failing will cost my realm their potentially greatest phantom, De’ral.

  Again, the pressure strikes hard. Belair and I have only a few days to prove that untrained warrior savants from the south can stand and fight with the best of them.

  “We can do it, right?” I reach out to De’ral for assurance, but maybe that’s a mistake.

  Under my skin, he roils, laughing in a way that chills me to the bone.

  32

  Marcus

  I stop halfway up the stairs, studying Aku’s first whistle bone. Really, it’s just an excuse to rest. I hate to admit it, but I’m dizzy. Plus, those Nonnovan greens were laced with pickled onions, which never sit well with me. After a few deep breaths, I continue up the stairs, reach the third level, and head down the hall. There are smoky mirrors on either side, and between the doors stand tables with colorful vases full of dried flowers. Aku doesn’t skimp on the fine details. “Eight, ten, twelve.” I stop at Ash’s door and knock.

  Kaylin opens.

  My head jerks back as if slapped. “I thought you were fishing.”

  “I thought you were in the infirmary.” He stands tall, not moving aside.

  “Fully recovered, thank you.” I try to peer around him. “Ash is expecting me.”

  Kaylin finally moves to let me in. “She’s getting changed.”

  I frown at that, then focus on the room. It’s large, well-appointed, and lit with colored lanterns hanging from the high ceiling. There are two double beds in an L-shape against the back and side wall.

  “The swim was amazing, Kaylin.” Ash comes out of the en suite in a black robe that brushes the floor. I fixate on the embroidered cuffs as she towels her hair dry.

  Why are you angry? De’ral asks.

  I don’t know. The obvious seems preposterous to me. I am not jealous.

  “And thanks for—” She stops mid-sentence when she sees me. “You’re here! Perfect timing.”

  I look between her and Kaylin, a burning sensation growing in my chest. Ash needs to focus on her job as a recorder. She needs to focus on me. And Belair, of course. My hands ball into fists.

  She is focused. De’ral defends her. Look around.

  He’s right. The table is covered with parchments, quills, and inks. I resist the urge to tilt my head and read the exposed pages.

  So, there is no problem, De’ral says.

  “Except…Kaylin’s a sailor. He could be gone with the next tide, leaving her heartbroken.”

  And that’s your real concern?

  I think I liked it better when De’ral and I didn’t talk.

  “Marcus?” Ash’s brows are up.

  I force my face into a pleasant expression. “You were saying something about swimming?”

  She laughs. “In the tidepools!” She throws the towel over the back of a chair. “They’re clear as crystal and full of brightly colored sea creatures. Kaylin’s teaching me about them.”

  I look at him, wondering what his intentions are.

  “See? This is a problem.”

  “And the water’s warm in the shallows.” She seems to be purposefully averting her eyes before Kaylin can meet them. Strange. “We ran all the way back.”

  “Temperature drops when the sun goes down.” Kaylin looks at Ash.

  I can tell he’s keen but guarded. What’s he hiding?

  “I didn’t want her caught out with wet hair,” he goes on.

  “Very thoughtful.” I make a show of glancing further about the room. Maybe I’m just jealous of how well-appointed hers is.

  Theirs is.

  “Thank you, De’ral. I needed that reminder.”

  “This room is nice. Belair and I are crammed into bunks on the bottom floor with two other green-robes. It’s nothing by comparison.”

  “These rooms are for visiting non-savants. They aren’t used very often, I guess, and, trust me, it’s not as—”

  “No need to explain.” I’m not sure why I’m being so childish about it all. At least there’s one thing I can do to improve. I step toward Kaylin. “I’ve not had the chance to formally thank you for your assistance on Mount Bladon, the river, the farmhouse…” I pause, searching for a better word than appreciation. “Your bravery and skill… Compensation will be forthcoming. You can leave a forwarding address with Ash, and I will see to it upon my return to Baiseen.” I give a slight bow.

  “Compensation isn’t necessary.”

  “You saved our lives and got us to Aku on time.”

  “And you’re welcome, but I didn’t do it for the coin.” He sits at the little side table. “Cup of tea?”

  “We have blackberry leaf,” Ash says. “And Ochee! Has Belair noticed? It should make him happy.”

  “Or this.” Kaylin picks up a small jar, unscrews the lid, and sniffs. “Smells like summer.”

  “Whatever’s in the pot’s fine.” I feel the irritation creeping in again. They seem so…together. I’ll have to ask Ash where this is heading.

  Why? She’s done nothing wrong.

  I can’t believe this. On the topic of Ash, my phantom has so much to say? “Never mind.”

  “Come, sit down.” Ash takes a seat and motions me to do the same while Kaylin makes the tea.

  I lean toward Ash and speak under my breath. “Maybe we should talk in private?”

  “Why? Kaylin’s in this, too, remember?”

  Since when?

  Since he killed his crewmates, fought off the Aturnians, rescued you from the Ferus River, got us safely to Aku…as you just stated. De’ral speaks as if I have lost those memories. For a moment, maybe I had.

  I rub my head. “You’re both right, of course.”

  “Both?” Ash studies my face. “You feeling well?”

  I wave the concern away. I’m not myself, it seems. Ash is my best friend, the person closest to me, the one I can always confide in. She’d laugh if she could hear my inner thoughts just now.

  De’ral grunts.

  Kaylin pours a mug of tea and makes himself comfortable on the settee under the window.

  “So, sharing a room?” I’m stuck on this arrangement, it seems.

  Ash lets her breath out in a little laugh. “As I was trying to tell you, Kaylin and I are the only visiting non-savants. It’s customary to put us together.”

  “How together is that?” It’s out before I can stop it. Internally, De’ral rolls his eyes.

  Ash does the same thing. “I know the protocol, if that’s what you’re worried about. But
I want someone here with me. This room, for all its finery, is full of tapping and shadows in the dark.” She shudders.

  The trip was traumatizing for everyone, I see. “We’re all a little jumpy.”

  “Understandable, after what it took to get here.” Kaylin’s tone is serious.

  I nod. Speaking of that… “Have either of you heard Aturnian accents here? Northern, specifically?”

  “A green-robe, Northern for sure,” Ash says. “And also there’s an orange-robe instructor, but she’s been teaching at Aku for years, according to Samsen.”

  “I met the green-robe on the way from the infirmary. Destan. He says he’s from the south. I can’t tell for sure, though.” I tap the table with my fingertip, thinking. “Could the ban have been lifted?”

  “I wondered, too, so I asked Master Huewin, the head library keeper, about it.”

  “And?”

  “He said Aku keeps its doors open to all the realms but Northern Aturnia. It’s being sanctioned right now, like we thought.”

  “Which doesn’t explain why we’re hearing the Northern Aturnian dialect.” Kaylin tops up my tea even though I’ve had only a sip. “Drink.”

  “So it is Northern?” I pick up my mug. Holding it calms the storm in my head. “Then they’ve broken the ban.”

  “I don’t think so,” Ash says. “Not directly. Kaylin has a theory.”

  I give the sailor my full attention. I’m going to have to thank him for this as well, no doubt.

  “What if the Northern Aturnians are shipping their green-robes south, sending them to Aku from Clearwater, or even Gleemarie?”

  “Passing them off as Southern Aturnians?” It’s a good strategy, from their side. Simple enough, too, I imagine. “But High Savant Yuki would know, wouldn’t she?”

  Kaylin walks to the window and stares into the night. “You’d think so. I’d be careful there.”

  “Agreed.” I drink my tea down in a few glugs, admitting to myself that having Kaylin here isn’t a bad idea. “We should avoid speaking fully of the incident on the headlands or the brush with the Aturnians’ encampment when we report to her.”