by Amy Ewing
“He was very kind,” Agnes said.
The scythe twisted. “I suppose that is one way to describe him.” Ambrosine roused herself. “So you know about Braxos and the power that rests there, greater than anything, a power tied to Culinnon . . . it belongs to our family. And together, you and I will create a new dynasty in a new country, all our own.”
“A what?”
“The northern islands would not support me without an heir, you see,” Ambrosine said. “But then I heard you had applied to the university and I knew . . . Alethea’s daughter was returning to Pelago at last, to take her rightful place in the family. You were the linchpin I needed, Agnes. And once I am queen of the north, you will be a princess, won’t that be grand?”
She was beaming at Agnes like she was offering her a large serving of chocolate and not domination over a territory. A princess? Agnes had no interest in being a princess. She was supposed to study at the Academy of Sciences. She hadn’t come here to rule over anyone except herself.
Ambrosine reached out to take Agnes’s hand in both her own. Her fingers were bony but surprisingly strong.
“Oh, Agnes,” she said, triumph ringing in every word. “Don’t you see? We will finally be who we were meant to be—a family, all together where we belong. I wouldn’t want to start this journey with anyone else by my side. I had thought perhaps my son’s wife could—” She stopped herself and shook her head. “But that was foolish of me and makes no matter now. Think of it—when you have daughters they will be princesses, and then their daughters and theirs after. We will make the Byrne family live in the minds and hearts of our people for generations to come. We will truly leave our mark on this world. And it all starts now, it starts with us together. It is everything I have ever wanted.”
But Agnes didn’t want to have daughters. Or sons. She didn’t want to leave a mark on the world or start a new line of queens. Her grandmother pulled her to her feet and wrapped her arms around her, engulfing Agnes in the scent of lace and jasmine, and it was what Agnes had always dreamed of and yet not at all the way she’d pictured it.
Ambrosine released her and held Agnes by the shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. “I see her in you,” she said. “Not the way she lives in Leo. But I see her.”
“Really?” Agnes asked, her spirits soaring because this was truly all she had ever wanted to hear, her whole life.
“Really,” Ambrosine said, and then kissed her lightly on the cheek. “We have so much catching up to do! I’m sorry to spring this all on you so suddenly, but there simply wasn’t time to waste. Much has happened since your flight from Ithilia. Now, come. Let’s get some hot food in you. And I’m sure you will be wanting to see your brother and Sera.”
Agnes allowed herself to be led from the room, her thoughts in turmoil, her homecoming not going at all the way she had expected.
28
Sera
SEVERAL DAYS AFTER AGNES’S ARRIVAL, SERA WOKE EARLY and crept down to the dock.
She was slowly learning her way around the estate, the glass halls and winding stairs and huge sequoias becoming familiar. She, Leo, Vada, and Agnes had explored much of the island—Hektor took them to where the Misarros’ ships were docked on the eastern side, Ambrosine showed them the vineyards on the western slopes, and once Bellamy even led them to a place she said was her favorite, a cave with walls that glittered with quartz in an array of colors, emerald and ruby and amethyst. It reminded Sera of the stargem mines. And at the very back of the cave was a hot spring, the water black and steaming.
Sera was growing impatient, though. Vada and Agnes had arrived with a ship but Ambrosine had sent it off for “maintenance,” whatever that meant. They were so close to Braxos, she could feel it in her blood and in the way the moonstone shimmered against her skin, and yet she had no way of getting there without Ambrosine’s help; and for all of her promises, that help did not seem forthcoming.
Agnes had told them about Matthias and the university and Xavier showing up in Ithilia—that had come as a great shock—and Leo had told her about their own journey and the war that was beginning and the queen who was pursuing Ambrosine. Sera had added her own stories, of the self blood bond and the memories and her ability to speak human languages—Vada had been so excited to understand her at last. And she had been thrilled to learn that Agnes and Vada were together—Leo had been surprised by his sister’s newfound relationship, but admitted to Sera privately that it actually made sense to him now when he thought back on certain things from their days in Old Port. And he was happy to see Agnes happy. Culinnon felt like a little bubble, Sera thought, but its safety was a mirage. The outside world was in turmoil.
She reached the end of the dock and peered over its edge, her fingers lighting up as she called for Errol. The mertag’s head popped out of the water as if he’d been waiting for her.
“Good morning, Sera Lighthaven,” he said.
“Good morning,” Sera replied cheerfully. She’d come every morning to speak to him, before anyone else was awake. She did not want Ambrosine to know she could talk to mertags or Arboreals. It was bad enough Hektor had seen her in the grove with the sprite-Boris.
“When are we making sail for Braxos?” Errol asked.
Sera sighed. “I don’t know. I would leave today if I could. But we don’t have a ship any longer.”
Errol’s colors flashed in sad gray-greens. “No, the small boat is not in the water anymore. The humans must have brought it on land.” He cocked his head. “My family thinks I am crazy to try and take you to Braxos.”
“Why?” Sera asked. “Because it is dangerous?”
Errol let out his croaking laugh. “Dangerous? No, Braxos is not dangerous to mertags. There is nothing in these waters that can harm us. The human family who lives on Culinnon—they do not like us to leave. Keep to the waters around Culinnon, protect the island from unknown faces, unknown ships. It is all we have ever done. Not Errol, though. Errol likes to stretch his fins and explore the seas.” The corners of his mouth turned down. “That is how Errol was caught. Too far out, too far away. A foolish mertag.”
“If you had not been caught I never would have met you,” Sera said.
That made him brighten. “Too true, Sera Lighthaven!”
Sera wondered if perhaps the mertags were in a similar situation to the Arboreals—trapped on this one island when they were meant to swim the seas.
There was a creak of wood and Sera jumped. Agnes was walking down the dock, wrapped in a thick sweater with a big woolen scarf around her neck.
“I thought I might find you here,” she said with a grin.
She took a piece of dried apricot out of her pocket and tossed it at Errol, who caught it in a flash.
“Agnes is always giving Errol food,” Errol said happily.
Sera laughed. “You deserve it,” she told him. “You got her and Vada here, safe and quick.”
Errol puffed out his chest. “I would do the same for any friend of Sera Lighthaven.”
Agnes curled up beside Sera on the dock. “It’s nice here,” she said. “Quiet.”
Her brow furrowed and Sera knew what she was thinking.
“Has Ambrosine talked any more to you about her plans to rule the northern islands?”
Agnes shivered. “No. I think she realized she might have told me all that a bit too soon. I mean, I only just got here.”
“She must have been thinking about it for a very long time,” Sera said. “So it was hard for her to wait once she saw you.”
“I didn’t come here to be a princess,” Agnes said. “We’re supposed to be getting you to Braxos and here we are, touring Culinnon like we’re on vacation. I get that she wants me to feel some connection with it, but that’s not why I’m here.”
“I’m not sure your grandmother is the type to much care what others wish to do,” Sera said.
“No,” Agnes agreed, scratching her ear. “She’s sort of like my father that way.” She chewed on her lower lip. �
�A princess,” she muttered. “Why would she think that’s something I would ever want?”
“She doesn’t know you,” Sera pointed out gently. “Only the idea of you. Perhaps in time, she’ll learn. Your place is at the university. She’ll have to accept that.”
Agnes nodded, but there was no conviction in it, and even Sera herself did not believe her own words.
“A ship!” Errol cried out. “A ship is coming, Sera Lighthaven.”
Sera was on her knees in an instant. “Whose ship?” she asked. She saw a trail of lights in the water and listened to the other mertags, passing along the message in a chain of color.
“Ship, ship, ship,” they said. “Friend not foe, friend not foe.”
And then, “Family, family, family.”
“What are they saying?” Agnes asked.
“A ship is coming,” Sera said. She stood and peered out across the water and sure enough, in the distance but growing closer, was the outline of a mast blossoming with three sails.
Agnes scrambled to her feet. “The Renalt?”
“Family,” Sera told her. “That’s what they said.”
The mertags were swarming, their colors flashing wordlessly. The ship drew closer—she could see a flag flying the five stars of the Lekke and her heart seized up, but it was the Renalt who was after Ambrosine, and besides, the mertags were letting the ship pass. It was sailing very fast, its slender, narrow body cutting through the water.
There was someone standing on the prow, and as the ship came closer, Agnes clapped her hands to her chest.
“Matthias,” she gasped.
Servants came rushing out of the estate at the sight of the ship, calling out orders to each other, and someone ran to fetch Ambrosine. Sailors jumped down from the rails and landed deftly on the dock, Agnes and Sera stumbling out of their way so they could tie up the ship.
Matthias wore a slate-colored cloak and heavy woolen pants, high boots laced up over them. He had thinning red hair and very pale eyes and there was something distinctly educated about him.
He strode down the gangplank, cloak flapping in the wind. “Agnes,” he said, smiling broadly. “You made it.” He turned to Sera and there was a brief flicker of shock before he gave her a deep bow. “You must be the friend she told me about.”
“I am Sera Lighthaven,” Sera said.
“Matthias Byrne, at your service.” His gaze was keen as he took her in. “My mother must be ecstatic over you.”
“Matthias.” Ambrosine stood at the end of the dock, swathed in ermine, Hektor and a handful of Misarros behind her. The sailors parted to let her through.
“Mother,” Matthias said.
She looked up at his ship and her lips curled. “How kind of the Lekke to lend you a clipper. Such a nice reward for all your years of work.”
“The Lekke is very generous,” Matthias replied.
“What are you doing here?” Hektor demanded.
“Lovely to see you too, brother,” Matthias said.
“Hektor speaks the truth,” Ambrosine said. “I seem to recall you vowing never to return to this island again, or some such dramatic nonsense.”
Matthias flinched but stood his ground. “Desperate times, Mother,” he said. “You’ve made it rather impossible to be a Byrne in Ithilia at the moment, what with your penchant for attacking the Triumvirate personally.”
Ambrosine waved a hand. “It was they who did the attacking first,” she said. “Absconding with my grandson like he was a piece of cargo. And dear Sera as well. Have you met Sera? She and Leo are absolutely devoted to each other. And Agnes, of course, you know Agnes. She told me you showed her the archives.”
Matthias’s nostrils flared. “The archives are open to everyone.” He sounded faintly exasperated, as if he’d explained this more than once.
“Old rules for old times,” Ambrosine said. “Things are changing.”
“They are indeed,” Matthias said, but just then Leo and Vada came running out to the docks.
“We saw the Triumvirate flag and thought—” Leo stopped short when he saw Matthias.
“Leo, this is our uncle,” Agnes said.
Tears filled Matthias’s eyes as he took in Leo’s face. “By the goddesses,” he murmured.
“The resemblance is striking, isn’t it?” Ambrosine said, but Matthias was walking toward Leo like a man in a trance. He stopped in front of him and extended a hand.
“Matthias Byrne,” he said as Leo shook it. “It is a great pleasure to meet you.”
“Um, you too,” Leo said.
“So you’ve run to the protection of Culinnon now?” Hektor said with a sneer. “After all these years of abandoning your family?”
“I’m not running away,” Matthias said mildly. “I’ve brought a gift for you, Mother.”
His eyes flickered to Agnes and then he turned to the ship.
“Bring them out!” he called.
Leo choked on his own breath and Agnes gave a half squeak, half whimper as Xavier McLellan appeared on the deck of the clipper.
“Oh my,” Ambrosine said, folding her arms across her chest. “What an unexpected surprise.”
A second later, Kiernan appeared beside him and Hektor let out a barking laugh.
“You found the bastard?” he said to Matthias. “You of all people?”
Kiernan was watching the two men with unabashed fear in his eyes.
“Now, Hektor,” Ambrosine said. “Is that any way to talk about your older brother?”
“Brother?” Leo croaked as Ambrosine strode forward.
“Bring them down!” she called, and the sailors shoved at the two men and they stumbled down the gangplank. Xavier’s face was cold as stone but Kiernan was pale and quivering.
“Well, Ezra,” Ambrosine said. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you attached yourself to . . . him.” She shot Xavier a disdainful look. “You always did like serving the biggest bully in the play yard.” She sighed. “What an embarrassment, to have to call you son.”
“But . . .” Agnes was shaking her head, confused. “But his last name is Kiernan.”
“His father’s name,” Ambrosine said. “One of the first mistakes I ever made, before I was married. Since Ezra is technically a Byrne, I raised him here, though being illegitimate, he was never allowed to take the Byrne name. And he has been a disappointment ever since.”
Sera had never felt any great love for the man who had stuck needles in her arm, but he wilted before her now, a sad, pathetic creature.
“I see you’ve finally got what you wanted,” Xavier said to Ambrosine, jerking his head in Agnes’s direction. He had not even said hello to his children, no remark about their safety or comment on how well they looked. Sera knew she shouldn’t be surprised, but it made her sad all the same.
“I always do,” Ambrosine replied. “Even if I have to wait eighteen years.”
“Please don’t hurt us,” Kiernan whimpered.
“Shut up, Ezra,” Xavier snapped.
“Yes, Ezra, listen to your master,” Ambrosine said.
“I didn’t bring them here so you could hurt either of them,” Matthias said.
“I’m not remotely interested in your intentions, Matthias,” Ambrosine said dryly. “They are here and that’s all that matters.” She snapped her fingers and the Misarros sprang forward.
“Take them to the wailing caverns,” she said. Kiernan let out a cry of despair as the Misarros dragged him off. Xavier yanked his arms free.
“I can walk myself,” he growled. He strode forward, sparing Sera one curious, resentful glance before his eyes fell on his son. “I didn’t think you could be a bigger disappointment than you already were, Leo. For once in my life, I was wrong.”
Leo’s face flushed blotchy red and Sera felt her vision blur with anger.
“I know this might be hard for you to believe, Father,” Leo said. “But I don’t live and die by your judgment anymore.”
Xavier only smirked. “Don’t
you?” he said, then a Misarro shoved him in the back, leading him off the dock to follow Kiernan.
“Well,” Ambrosine said, running a hand over her furs. “What a morning. Leo, Agnes, come with me. We are going to have a little family discussion with your uncles.”
29
Leo
THEY LEFT SERA AND VADA STANDING ON THE DOCK AND entered the estate. Leo’s head was spinning.
His father’s words still echoed in his ears but their sting was quickly fading. For a moment, Leo had a flash of his old self, the shallow coward from Old Port who desperately needed Xavier’s approval, but then he’d seen Sera glaring and felt a surge of heat in his chest. His father’s opinion wasn’t the only one that mattered anymore—in fact, his opinion didn’t matter at all.
How Matthias had come to bring him here and why, Leo couldn’t begin to guess. From the look on Agnes’s face, she was just as confused as he was.
Ambrosine led Agnes and Leo and their uncles to a small parlor—they passed Bellamy in one of the glass halls and she stared at Matthias with shock. Hektor gave her a look that plainly said, “I’ll explain later.”
The parlor walls were alternating strips of onyx and glass, like zebra stripes, and the furniture was all varying shades of green. Ambrosine folded herself into a high-backed, winged armchair, Hektor skulking by one of the glass panels as Matthias sank onto the sofa. There was a low bench opposite him, across the coffee table, and Leo and Agnes perched there in unison.
“So,” Ambrosine said without preamble. “You have brought the traitor and the thief. Murderer too, though he’ll answer for that in due time.”
Agnes and Leo looked at each other, confused.
“Your father killed your mother,” Ambrosine said, as casually as if it were nothing. Leo felt the room begin to spin. Hektor flinched but Matthias sighed.
“Please don’t say it like that, Mother, they’re his children,” he said. He turned to Agnes and Leo. “He didn’t kill her.”
“He should not have brought her here so late,” Ambrosine snarled. “What was he thinking, waiting that long. She was almost at her due date and in no condition for a long sea voyage.”