“Yes, I would, and I probably would succeed this time. But that’s irrelevant, because as far as any of us knows, Kestra is still alive.”
“How disappointed you must be.”
Trina’s voice softened. “I knew Tenger’s note would upset you. Especially after your mother—”
“Did you send the Dominion there too?”
I advanced on her, but Basil cut between us. “Simon, stop. Why would she—”
“She wants Kestra dead. The Halderians failed, so she went to the Dominion.” I turned to her. “There are very few people who knew that was my mother’s home—Gabe didn’t know until we went there. But you knew.”
Trina’s face reddened. “And you think that I would work with the Dominion? That I would help them in any way?”
“Maybe you told yourself that Kestra was an Ironheart and couldn’t remember who she truly was. You’d have an easy time justifying what you did.”
“Except that I didn’t do it. Gabe was with me while we searched for you in the Drybelt. He would know how I felt about finding her safe!”
“If you fight any louder, the Dominion will hear us,” Huge said, walking over the hill with his horse already saddled and packed. “But I heard you.” He drew a slow breath. “And I will say this. When I was looking for Gabe last night in the Dominion camp, I heard one of the officers near his tent say they never thought they’d have worked with a Corack.”
“That could be anyone.” The waver in Trina’s voice made it clear how nervous she was.
“Not anyone.” Huge’s wide shoulders hunched and he seemed to be avoiding Trina’s eye. “They never mentioned a name, but they did say she would finally get the reward she wanted.”
That was enough for me. I turned to Trina. “Well?”
She squared her body to mine. “Simon, I have never pretended to like Kestra, and yes, I wish that I were the Infidante and not her. But I am supporting her. I am following the captain’s orders to fight so that she can get the Olden Blade back. And if something goes wrong, if she never made it to the Blue Caves, then I might be the next Infidante. You’ll have to support me the way you asked me to support Kestra.”
“Or the way you’re actually supporting her?”
Her hand shifted to her sword, and she made sure I noticed. “We’re going to the Halderians together. And when we’re there, you and I will stand before Commander Mindall and ask him if I’ve done anything to betray Kestra.”
My eyes narrowed. “The day the Halderians attacked Lonetree Camp, did you come out with us to negotiate?”
“You know I didn’t. Why?”
“Then how did you know their new commander is named Mindall?” Before she could answer, I grabbed my bedroll and stuffed it into the saddlebags. “I’m ready to ride whenever you are.”
If the morning had been cold, it was nothing compared to the icy wind that began gusting around midday. I never complained though. It seemed like a perfect accompaniment to my mood.
Huge and Gabe were on their way to the Lonetree Camp, leaving me with only Trina and Basil for company. I wasn’t speaking to Trina, which put me in the awkward position of having to talk to Basil, of all people. He rode at my side as we made our way toward the Halderians, a clan I neither liked nor trusted.
“You haven’t said a word for miles,” Basil said.
“What do you want me to say?” I replied.
“I want you to explain why you won’t claim the throne.”
I tossed a glare sideways at him. “That’s not your business.”
“We need the Halderians’ help in defending Reddengrad. Your refusal to claim the throne is very much my business.”
“What’s your business?” Trina asked, riding up next to Basil. When neither of us answered, she said, “Is this about Simon not wanting to be king? Because I’m the one who figured out who he is. I’m the one who told Tenger.”
“Naturally you told someone,” I snapped. “That’s what you do.”
She groaned. “Honestly, Simon, you are impossible! Once you get a thought in your head, you never question it, you just assume you’re always right! Well, you are wrong about me, you’re wrong in nearly everything you’ve said about Basil—”
“What has he said about me?” Basil asked.
“—and you’re wrong to refuse the Halderian throne. Simon, they need someone with a good heart to lead them.”
I cursed under my breath. That wasn’t my heart, not anymore.
She continued, “If I’m ever named as the Infidante—”
“Kes is still alive.”
She tried again. “If I’m ever the Infidante, they will ask me who I choose as king—”
“Don’t you dare.”
“—and I would name you. Whether you want it or not, whether you deny the truth about the sword and that ring in your saddlebag, I don’t care. If it’s ever in my power, you will be king of the Halderians.”
I glared at her. “If you carry out that threat, then my first order will be your execution for betraying the previous Infidante.”
Her laughter quickly faded as she wondered if I was serious. Absolutely, I was.
After a long silence, Basil said, “Well, aren’t you Coracks fun? If Reddengrad wins this battle, we’ll invite you down for the victory party. I’m sure you two can suck the joy from any celebration.” When I didn’t reply, he added, “Simon, I wish you would claim the throne, and I haven’t heard anything yet that helps me understand why you won’t, but you still have a job to do. Get the Halderians to fight for Reddengrad, or I will not say where the Olden Blade is.”
I snorted. It was not for him or for anyone to understand my reasons. I would do my best to get the Halderians to fight, and I would go to battle myself if the Dominion came. But nothing more.
Little else was said between any of us as we entered the Hiplands that evening. I’d been here only two weeks ago, with Kestra riding in my arms, smiling back at me as if nothing could ever come between us. The memory was a curse to me now.
As if she could read my thoughts, Trina said, “For what it’s worth, Simon, if you see her again, she will probably still be the way you remember her … mostly.”
It was worth nothing and only made me feel worse. Yet even as she spoke, an advance group of more than twenty Halderians rode toward us with posted colors and visible weapons. The girl who had helped me get Kestra out of Lonetree, Harlyn Mindall, was among them. I hoped we could count on her help here. Little else was in our favor.
Basil leaned toward me. “If you do have any influence with the Halderians, now is the time.”
“I don’t.” But I stopped my horse between Basil and Trina’s, hoping that whatever words fell from my mouth would sound more diplomatic than what was actually in my mind.
Commander Mindall was leading the group, and it was obvious from a distance that this wasn’t a friendly welcome party. He held up his hand to stop his own procession, leaving us facing each other from a conversational distance.
He began, “We came to your camp three days ago hoping to talk, eager to understand our Infidante better. But you lied to us.”
“Who’s lying now, Commander Mindall?” I countered. “You weren’t there to talk. You had other plans for the Infidante.”
His smile thinned. “A necessary act, before she turns on us, and you know that she will, in time. But for now, your captain promised you’d come to help us, and here you are.”
I glanced over at Basil, whose furrowed brow suggested I should keep my mouth shut. I started to respond, but Basil tilted his head. “What help do you need?”
Mindall’s posture eased as he turned to Basil. “We have a small camp set up nearby. Stay with us tonight, and tomorrow we will escort you into Nessel.”
He turned his horse with the obvious implication that we were to follow him. When we did, Trina rode up closer to him and said, “Commander, I hoped you might clear up a misunderstanding among my friends.”
“If I can.”
She tossed me a sideways glance. “How did you know where Kestra was three days ago?”
His laugh was cold. “You cannot possibly think I will reveal that source.”
“This one is important. Did you receive a communication from a Corack telling you where she was?”
Mindall gave her what appeared to be a sincere nod of respect. “I will say this. On the night the Infidante was chosen, few of us cheered when we saw the blade in the hand of a Dallisor. We admired the way you fought for the Olden Blade, Trina, and we remember your mother. If you had contacted us, we would have heeded your call.”
Trina’s eyes widened at what Mindall had just implied. I only sent her an icy glare. “Was that the denial you were hoping for?”
“Simon, listen—”
“I will fight with you to protect the Hiplands, but do not mistake that for believing that you and I are on the same side of anything. I want nothing more to do with you.”
She started to answer, then clamped her mouth shut. Whatever else she denied, we both knew that a part of her hoped Kestra had never made it to the Blue Caves. Trina would never give up her wish to be the Infidante of Antora.
And I would never trust her again.
Loelle had explained to me every memory that she could, though she only knew a fraction of the thousands of images flashing through my head, some of them tiny details, and others, significant, life-changing events.
I remembered running through the corridors of Woodcourt and being scolded by Sir Henry. How I’d resented him, even then.
The opposite was true of my adoptive mother Lily, whom I’d loved more than life. I had a memory of leaning against a wall of her bedroom as her handmaiden dressed her in stiff formals for a supper in Lord Endrick’s palace. She’d smiled at me but there was a clear pool of dread in her eyes.
There often was. My mother must have felt like a sort of prisoner at Woodcourt.
So had I, at times. I used to climb trees in the gardens, keeping a silent perch overhead when Sir Henry passed by with his officers, making plans in support of Lord Endrick. I’d learned early to avoid the king, though I now hoped the day would come when he’d wish he had avoided me.
Other memories filled my mind too, though I couldn’t always place the year they had happened, or the setting, or who else had been with me. And when the memory conflicted with an idea that Lord Endrick had inserted into my mind, I couldn’t always separate one from the other.
With one exception: I understood perfectly that the Dominion was my enemy, and that any memory that suggested otherwise was false. Everything else was like a dammed-up river, a route my mind desperately wanted to travel upon, but which only leaked out the smallest of details.
“Give yourself time,” Loelle assured me. “You will sort this out.”
If only time was on my side.
And although I had thought Loelle and I were only in the Blue Caves for an hour or two, when we finally emerged, the sun was already peeking over the horizon. I stared at it, grateful for the promise of a new day rather than more cyclings from my past. “Is it morning already?”
Loelle smiled. “My lady, it’s been a full day and night since we entered the caves.”
I turned to her, confused. How was that possible, when I’d not felt tired or hungry once?
Tenger and Wynnow were waiting in a cove of trees near the cave entrance, seated around a small morning campfire. I recalled asking Simon for a fire only four nights ago, but he had refused, claiming it would be unsafe. I’d been cold then, when I should have been warm in his company. And I was warm now, standing before people who emanated a cold desire to use me for their own ends.
They stood when they saw me, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Loelle signal to them to sit back down, and I was grateful for it. I didn’t want any questions, nor could I offer any explanations for what had happened to me, what was still happening. I felt the magic stretching through my veins, even if it wasn’t as strong as it had been in the caves. But I couldn’t properly explain the feeling, nor was I certain if this was my own developing magic or whether I was simply reflecting the glow of the caves. And when I asked Loelle, she replied that we would have to wait and see.
Wait and see. How I hated that concept. I always had.
That made me smile. Whatever else magic had done for me, it was still not powerful enough to overcome my innate lack of patience.
Wynnow invited me to sit at the campfire and offered some boiled eggs. I knew I should’ve been half-starved, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t anything other than aware of the magic. It pulsed with every beat of my heart. My heart, free of Lord Endrick’s grip. Every easy breath I drew was a reminder of my freedom from him.
“I will know when she’s hungry,” Loelle said sharply, motioning to Wynnow to withdraw the offer of eggs. “Kestra is in my care.”
Wynnow straightened up, her face pinched with irritation, yet the only logical place to sit at the campfire was on the fallen log beside her. When I sat there, Loelle pressed her lips together, something Wynnow obviously took as a victory.
“Your appetite will return soon,” Loelle explained, pretending not to be as irritated as I knew she was. “Quite voraciously at first, but that too, will pass.”
She sent a look to Tenger as she finished speaking, and he nodded back at her. “If it involves me, you should say it aloud,” I reminded them.
Wynnow smiled. “The captain and I were discussing what is the proper next step for you.”
“That’s obvious. I need to retrieve the Olden Blade, and …” Panic shot through me. “I don’t know where it is! What if that memory doesn’t return?”
“You don’t have that particular memory,” Tenger said, more calmly than I’d have expected, considering the stakes. “From what I can piece together, you made an attempt on Lord Endrick’s life, which ended with you jumping through a window to escape. Basil was waiting for you. You gave him the Olden Blade and asked him to hide it from everyone, including you.”
“And where did he hide it?”
Tenger clapped his hands together. “Well, that’s the problem. Basil won’t tell us yet, not until the Halderians agree to join in Reddengrad’s defense.”
I kicked at a pebble near my boot, wishing I had a better distraction for the frustration that was beginning to burn in my chest. “I don’t trust the Halderians.”
Tenger smiled. “You’ll trust them less once your memory from about three years ago starts to rebuild itself.”
I cocked my head, but he gave no further explanation. I asked, “Are we joining the battle too?”
Loelle leaned forward. “You’re feeling strong, which is a good thing, but obtaining magic has placed you in a precarious state. You must take some time to understand yourself, as you now are.”
“I’ll figure it out, on the way to the battle.”
Wynnow’s stormy glare leveled in Loelle’s direction became a much friendlier smile in mine. “If you are willing, my lady, I will take you over the border to Brill, where you will have refuge among my people until you are recovered.”
I tilted my head. “How long will that take? I feel fine.”
“It’s not necessary for you to go all the way to Brill,” Loelle said. “Your mind is clear of Lord Endrick’s magic now, so you should begin to sort out the real from the unreal. And within a few days, we should know more about the magic within you. Then we can determine exactly what powers you have, if any.”
I stared down at my hands, feeling the pulse of magic course through me, wondering what lay ahead for me now. I was at once nervous, excited, wary, and eager to begin experimenting with possibilities.
Loelle reached over and gave my hands a comforting squeeze, as if she sensed how I was feeling. I smiled back at her, grateful to be understood.
“Experimenting with her magic is better done in Brill,” Wynnow said. “She has many enemies here in Antora, and none in my country.”
Wynnow was right about that. I l
iked the idea of learning about magic somewhere my life wasn’t constantly at risk. “We can go to Brill,” I said, immediately hoping I wouldn’t regret the decision. Loelle obviously disagreed. Her lips were pinched into such a fine line, I barely saw them anymore.
While the others broke camp, I wandered up the hillside to survey the land. We were in the lower elevations of the mountains, so I couldn’t see to the horizon, but the view was extraordinary. The mountains here were snowcapped almost year-round, with striking peaks, rocky hills, and a dramatic waterfall that was already beginning to freeze for the winter months. Before the War of Desolation, before Lord Endrick destroyed his own people, this had been Endrean territory. A part of me belonged to this land, and despite whatever people might say about me one day, Antora was my home. I was determined to save it from Endrick’s clutches.
Even if I needed magic to do so.
Even if it meant risking my life, and losing everything I valued—
Simon.
I drew in a sharp breath, horrified at the direction of my thoughts. What if victory against Lord Endrick cost me a future with Simon? I didn’t want that, I’d never choose that.
But I probably had already lost him. I’d be a fool to think otherwise.
I’d lost him. Nothing else would have stopped him from rescuing me in the Dominion camp. Instead, he sent Basil. Simon would be here now too, if he had wanted that. He was letting me go.
And the worst part was that I didn’t blame him. Not after my role in the loss of his mother. Whether I deserved such blame didn’t matter; I remembered with perfect clarity his last expression as he looked at me. How broken he’d looked, how empty.
“Kestra?” Wynnow was climbing the hillside and stopped by my side. “We’re ready to leave.”
I started toward the camp, but Wynnow touched my arm and lowered her voice. “You should tell Loelle not to join us.”
“Why?”
“Tenger and I spoke last night of his plans for you. He wants Loelle to come to be sure they are carried out.”
The Deceiver's Heart Page 17