“I’m not a ship to be sailed, wizard,” I growled, doubting its truth as I said it.
“Aren’t you?”
I didn’t have a good answer. “Why didn’t you at least tell me that Anure had wizards? That would’ve been helpful to know.”
“How so? You, yourself, can vouch that wizards are unpredictable assets.”
True. The absurdity of picturing Anure arguing with intractable wizards hit me, and I nearly laughed aloud. “You still could’ve mentioned it.”
“Would you have come this far if I had?”
Good question.
* * *
“A storm?” Lia gave me a sidelong look when I asked the question. Her ladies had undressed her for the night, and she wore only her sheer silk robe, the pretty scarf from this morning knotted around her head. “Though your confidence in Me is flattering, I cannot control the weather.”
“Oh, come on, Lia,” I said with considerable exasperation. “I understand your need to keep secrets from me. No, wait—I don’t understand that, but I accept it.” Sort of. “But we’re on the same side of this battle. I need to keep Anure’s fleet from reaching the mouth of Cradysica’s harbor until tomorrow morning. Can you do that? Ambrose thinks you can.”
“Does he? Hmm.” She poured two glasses of the fantastically excellent brandy her people kept her supplied with. Easily the best liquor I’d ever tasted. Handing me one, she clinked her glass against mine. “I can hold them off once they reach Calanthe’s waters, yes.”
I sipped, the delicious zing of the brandy filling my head like the subtly floral fragrance of her skin. “With a storm?”
She laughed, the amusement lighting her gorgeous eyes. “Nothing so dramatic. I can simply ask the waters to slow their progress, flow in the opposite direction, as it were.”
“If you can do that, why not hold him off indefinitely?”
“Because Calanthe’s seas are connected to the oceans of the larger world. I can only work against the greater forces of nature for a short time, in small ways. We are, all of us, subject to the vast flows of the world.” She looked saddened by that. Before I could ask, though, she shook off the thought. “But yes, I can slow them that much. You can tell Me when you want them to arrive.”
I frowned, thinking. “We could set a time. Or I can send a message.”
“A message?”
“Maybe a signal of some sort.”
“I’ll be right beside you, so you can just tell Me.”
Uh-oh. “No, you won’t be with me. I’ve made arrangements for you to stay in a…” I trailed off at the incandescent anger flooding her face. “… a bunker, of sorts.”
“Conrí. I will not cower in some windowless room while My people die for Me.” With that final pronouncement, Lia turned her back on me and strode into the bedchamber. Even with no crown or elaborate makeup, she still managed to be intimidatingly regal, wearing the scarf like it crowned her Queen of All the Damn World.
“We discussed this,” I ground out, determined not to give her the last word on this argument.
She whirled on me, that flower-petal pattern I’d glimpsed in Sawehl’s temple brightening on her cheekbone like a blush. “Did we?” she asked in a cool, arch tone. “Oh no, my dear Conrí, we did not.”
I set my teeth. “I thought you understood that Anure’s objective will be to seize you and hold you captive so he can destroy Calanthe while you watch. And my objective is to protect you from that.”
“I understand that.”
“Then fucking listen to me.” I came close to shouting at her.
Far from flinching at the volume, she leaned in. “I have no wish to be seized, but I cannot shirk My duties to Calanthe and My people. A queen leads. That’s non-negotiable.”
I could throttle the woman, I really could. “They’ll have a plan,” I explained as clearly as I could. “They know about your abilities, how your ladies can and cannot defend you. I brought you with me so I could keep you safe, not leave you out in the open, vulnerable to abduction.”
“Oh? And here I thought I brought you with Me, and that the point of Me being here is to be the bait in your trap.”
“None of that matters.” Even as I said the words, I knew I was wrong. As Sondra had caustically accused me, I was losing my ruthless edge where Lia was concerned. I didn’t want her to be the bait. I only wanted her safe.
“If I’m in plain sight, it will be all the more difficult to spirit Me away, and I’ll be more visible bait,” she countered with infuriatingly cool logic.
I threw up my hands, no longer caring if I shouted. “Don’t you understand? You could be hit by an explosion. A misguided arrow could kill you by mistake. This won’t be some garden-party game. You could die, Lia!”
“So could you,” she replied quietly. “So could any or all of My people.”
“Well, I will not allow you to put yourself in danger.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to haul them back. She didn’t jump on them, however, didn’t coolly remind me that I had no power to command her movements and decisions.
Instead she smiled at me, closed-lipped, that sorrow back in it. “I’ve always been in danger, Con. All My life. I appreciate that you care to try to stop that—I don’t think anyone else ever has, at least not for Me, rather than to safeguard the throne—but you simply can’t. I was born to be queen of Calanthe, and that has always meant that Calanthe’s welfare, and that of all Her denizens, are more important than Mine. I cannot hide while we are attacked. It’s simply not possible.”
All the anger drained out of me, replaced by quiet despair. “Please listen to me on this,” I said, sounding ragged and desperate, not at all the forceful warrior I’d been in my head when I planned this argument.
She came to me, threading silken arms around my waist. I’d stripped down for the night, too, and wore only the pants I’d leave next to the bed, where my rock hammer and bagiroca already waited, in case I needed them in the night. In case Anure tried to abduct Lia.
“What if I asked you to stay back with Me?” she asked. She tilted her head, eyes gleaming in the light of the few candles, her body heat burning through the thin silk, fingertips soft and bare of their wicked tips caressing my back. “Would you give up being at the forefront of springing this trap, to stay by My side?”
I dropped my head to hers, encircling her in my arms, wishing I could keep her there like that forever. I’d even given it thought, staying back by Lia’s side, after Ambrose suggested it. But Kara’s messages affirmed that it was near certain Anure had left his citadel to voyage to Calanthe, so he could lay personal claim to Lia. At last we’d found something to pry him out of his fortifications, and he would be within reach. I’d bet on this, and I’d won.
My area of greatest expertise: I understood exactly how the need for revenge gnawed at the heart and mind, how it led a man to make crazed decisions and finally expose himself. Anure and I … we were alike in too many ways now. Including the insatiable desire for the woman I held in my arms. But even for her, I couldn’t give up being there to gut Anure myself. Too much could go wrong. I had to be there. If something went wrong because I was hiding …
“I can’t,” I admitted, realizing that Lia and I shared that need to be at the front.
“I know,” she whispered back. “This is what you need to do. I’ve always understood that. It might have been the first thing I understood about you, before I even met you in the flesh. I’m asking you to understand that I must do what I need to do, also.”
Unfortunately, I did.
“Lia.” I said her name on a groan of longing that had nothing and everything to do with the sensual glide of skin through silk against mine. With the raging need for her, the way my heart flamed in her presence. She lifted her mouth, fitting her lips easily against mine, the kiss long and languid and painfully sweet.
“I know,” she said again.
“I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone,” I told her, driven by som
e need to confess. Something about the emotion in the ritual at the temple, Sawehl’s undying love for Ejarat filling me, that tender flame that flared in the burnt coal of my heart burning only for her. My Lia. “I—” I broke off, unable to say the words.
“Shh. Enough words.” She led me to the bed.
As I sank into the yielding succor of her body, as that elemental, essential well-being Lia brought suffused me, I wondered at this strange pass I’d come to. I should never have fallen in love with the Queen of Flowers.
But I had.
A final joke from the gods who’d abandoned me. It changed nothing that my heart had come to life. It only meant I’d bleed more when I died.
16
When the nightmares chased me from sleep, Con had already gone. I should’ve been relieved at his absence while I examined my hands, seeing that I still had them both, but I missed his comforting presence. With a sigh of regret—tempted to go look for him and knowing it to be futile—I reached for the dreamthink instead.
Lying in the sheets that smelled of my husband and sex, I let my mind wander out to Calanthe. The birds showed me the rising sun. The fish swam through crystal waters, fat and pleased. Unease rippled through the people in some sharp bursts, but for the most part they rose lazily from their beds, or worked at their morning tasks, with their usual songs and greetings.
No foreign fleet in Calanthe’s waters. Not yet.
It lay out there, though, like one of the tropical storms still far beyond the horizon, spinning its way toward Calanthe. And this one I would not be able to send gently around us. I could only hold it for Con’s ideal arrival time. Trust him to take it from there. The manacled wolf, now free of his chains, and at the helm of the vessel I rode on. I had no choice now but to travel through the fire with him, and either perish or emerge on the other side.
By tomorrow, I’d know which it was. There was a restfulness to that, a fierce resolve in enduring the fury of the storm unleashed. No more hiding. No more waiting and dreading.
Because I had the time—no Morning Glory waiting for me to wake—and because it might be the last time, I cast my mind all over the length and breadth of Calanthe. I visited every part of the land and water and air of my realm, drawing succor from the vitality and innate joy of my home and mother, touching all those lives and sending my love. I wanted them to know that, if I was forced to leave them, I didn’t want to go.
I found nothing to answer the questions in my heart, however. Whatever Con had been about to confess, I’d been relieved that he hadn’t. We’d made vows to each other, tied our lives and fates together. We didn’t need emotional declarations to muddy the waters. Any more than they already were.
I stretched, deliberately making noise, and Ibolya peeked through the barely cracked door. Seeing me awake, she came in, gorgeously dressed for the day ahead, and curtsied. “Arise, Your Highness,” she said with a smile. “The realm awaits the sun of Your presence.”
And so it began.
* * *
Con took one look at my gown and swore viciously under his breath. Striding across the courtyard to me, he took me by the arm and guided me away from my entourage of ladies and anxious Cradysicans.
“Did you have to announce we’d be facing battle to the entire world?” he hissed in my ear.
“Yes,” I replied. “To present Myself otherwise would be a lie, and I won’t lie to My people.” Besides, the gown made me feel better. Not exactly armor, but the finely wrought overlapping leaves in shades of gold and silver gave that look. Without underskirts or my usual framework, the skirt flowed light and loose, allowing me to step quickly on flat-heeled golden boots. I wore no flowers today, only the jeweled designs of bloody roses interspersed among the metal leaves. Matching gauntlets covered my arms, finishing with points at my hands, and rising to frame my throat with curling thorns. No elaborate wig for me today, I wore one I’d asked Nahua to modify—a sleek black cap of hair that lay close against my scalp, just enough for my crown to be pinned to.
“You’re wearing armor,” I added. He looked intimidating, dangerous, and ferally sexual, too. With his hair loose, the black armor of leather, metal pins, and the cloak of stitched skins, he could’ve stepped out of my dreams. We’d come some distance together that I found him fatally attractive instead of terrifying. In those scarred hands, I’d placed the salvation of my realm, and possibly of myself. Not that I expected to be saved.
“Yes,” he said, “but people expect it of me and my people. You know perfectly well what kind of message you’re sending.”
“True.” I gave him a cool, unrepentant smile, letting him see that I wouldn’t back down. Nor would I hide. “I brought it with Me all this way, expressly for this purpose. I can’t not wear it,” I finished in an aghast voice, mimicking one of the fashionable ladies of court.
With a shake of his head, suppressing a smile, Con picked up my hand, examining the scarlet sheaths of my nails. “In the mood to kill, then?”
“Let them come at Me,” I replied. Our gazes caught and held, and we shared for a moment that same bloody determination to fight. He acknowledged it with a hint of ruefulness. “I have a gift for you,” I said.
“Now?” He seemed taken aback, even embarrassed, making me wonder what he thought I intended.
“Yes. Because this might be my last opportunity.”
“Don’t say that.” His hand tightened on mine.
“Of peace and quiet,” I clarified. “Soon we’ll be consumed in activity.”
“Oh.” He relaxed, but barely.
I signaled to Zariah, who came forward, the wolfhound at her side. She curtsied, and the hound sat at my heel, looking Con over as Zariah withdrew.
“That’s the biggest dog I’ve ever seen in my life,” Con commented with some awe.
I laid a hand on the wolfhound’s head. “This is Vesno. He wishes to be your companion.”
The wolfhound’s jaws opened, tongue lolling out in a canine grin, and he woofed softly at Con.
“My … companion?” Con seemed unduly stunned. “The … dog wishes?”
“I can touch his mind, Con,” I explained, stroking Vesno’s silky head. “I asked and he affirmed. He is one of Mine, so I will be able to see through his eyes, hear through his ears. He will defend you.”
“And report on me to you,” Con finished wryly.
“Not like that,” I protested, before his stern expression melted into a grin, the dimple of real happiness flashing into life.
Con crouched, holding out a hand to Vesno—the correct way, offering the back of his hand, fingers safely tucked in, just in case—and waiting for the wolfhound to come to him. Vesno sniffed, then licked Con’s hand. Con stroked the dog’s head, glancing up at me, emotion in his eyes. “This is the finest gift anyone has ever given me.”
“Good,” I replied, having to steady my own voice against the surge of unexpected feeling. “Every wolf should have a pack,” I added, managing to make that sound lighter.
“Thank you.” Con stood and touched my cheek. “Even your makeup looks like armor,” he noted. “The warrior queen. Lia, I want to—” His eyes flicked past me. “Ah, and here comes Ambrose, with my gift for you.”
Feeling like Con must have, I turned in surprise—with a sense of giddy pleasure. My subjects and emissaries gave me gifts all the time, naturally. Tokens to curry favor. Rare items to grace the Court of Flowers. Carefully preserved relics painstakingly smuggled to Calanthe for safekeeping. None of them were truly for me, for the woman. All were meant for Calanthe, and I dealt with them accordingly.
With a broad smile and a flourish, Ambrose presented me with a stick. Made of gleaming knobs of violet and pink, it looked like a finger from a giant. Con grinned at me, his dimple deep and delighted, and I remembered. A sweet tree-finger, he’d called it. I accepted it, scenting its candy perfume now, and raised a brow at Con. “Where’s yours?”
“I thought we could share,” he said, with an intimate smile. “Taste
it.”
I examined the thing, uncertain. It looked too hard to bite.
“You lick it,” Con said, a laugh in his voice, and took the thing from me. Holding my gaze, he put the tip to his mouth, tongue swirling over it suggestively. I narrowed my eyes at the sensual challenge. Taking it back, I put it to my own mouth—painted scarlet like my nails—and mimicked Con. It was sugary and rich, with a flavor unlike anything I’d ever tasted. Full of the effervescence of magic. A little moan of pleasure escaped me, and Con threw his head back in a full belly laugh, hoarse, but uninhibited.
Ambrose only looked genially pleased. “It’s been a long time since I made one of these. I’m so glad You like it.”
“I do. Thank you.” I waited for Con to look at me, his golden eyes sparkling with a hint of the verve of that long-ago boy in the painting. “Thank you for this gift, Conrí. It may be the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.”
His big hand settled on Vesno’s head. Already attuned to Con, the wolfhound lifted his nose in affection, nuzzling Con’s wrist. “It’s not a lasting gift,” Con said. “Not like Vesno, or jewels, or—”
“I have no need of more jewels, nor more lives to be responsible for,” I interrupted, giving Vesno a mock scowl. The wolfhound grinned at me, undaunted, tongue lolling. “This is all the sweeter for being transient.” And because it was a token of the childhood I missed having, since I’d always been treated like a small queen, never a child. I suspected Con knew that, which was why he’d gone to the trouble.
He cleared his throat. “Since we’re more or less private, anything yet?”
Indeed, though people had thronged in the courtyard, either because of my presence, or because they sensed the imminence of some important event, they gave our trio a wide berth. Even Lady Sondra, wearing full battle armor like Con, I noted, remained at a discreet distance. When she saw me studying her, she looked quickly away, her mouth slanting down.
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