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Reign of Mist

Page 34

by Helen Scheuerer


  Dash said nothing. He hadn’t realised how plainly he’d been wearing his emotions on his face.

  ‘Why are you so lost?’ she said, sheathing her sword and taking a swig from the canteen she’d brought.

  Dash handed back the sword he’d borrowed and shrugged. ‘How can I not be?’ he replied. ‘A week ago I was ten years old, and now I’m … eighteen? I don’t even know how old, exactly. I’ve missed eight years of my life. I don’t … I don’t feel like a child anymore, but I don’t know how … How I changed, or who I became in the process. It’s like waking up and finding out you’re a different person.’

  Luka passed him the canteen and leaned back against a bale of hay. ‘Sounds awful.’

  Dash took a long drink, only to feel his throat burn. He coughed and spluttered.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ she grimaced. ‘That’s not water.’

  Dash spat out the bitter taste and tossed the canteen back to her with a frown.

  ‘Look,’ she said. ‘I don’t know much about Ashai. Or Ashai ageing other Ashai. But it sounds to me like you need a purpose. Something to ground you, something to use as a path to finding out who you are.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Luka shrugged. ‘I’ve not lost eight years of my life, and I still don’t know who I am. But when I’m feeling unsure of myself, I ask myself: what do I want more than anything?’

  Dash shifted from foot to foot, not knowing what to say.

  She clicked her tongue. ‘Well? What did you want? Back then? What did you want more than anything?’

  It felt like a lifetime ago. Talking with Olena on the stone bench in the royal gardens. Sparring with the squires in the courtyard. Watching the commander and captain canter out of the grounds towards the horizon. Dodging the castle cook with stolen sugar-oat biscuits.

  ‘A knight,’ Dash said. ‘I wanted to be a knight.’

  ‘There you go, then.’

  ‘It’s not that easy.’

  ‘Who said easy? I said there you go.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Use it. Hone it. Looks to me like you’ve been given the opportunity to become who you wanted to become. So don’t mess it up.’

  ‘But the king … The war …’

  ‘What did I tell you about excuses?’

  ‘Excuses are for weaklings.’

  ‘Damn right they are.’ She pushed herself off the bale of hay and headed towards the doors. ‘Come on, it’s lunchtime. You’re going to need your strength for the journey.’

  ‘Journey? I didn’t think I was good enough …?’

  Luka laughed. ‘You’re no kindred, that’s for sure. But I suspect you could hold your own against a shitty Ellestian soldier or two. You won’t be in the front lines, anyway.’

  ‘I’m coming with you, then?’

  ‘Catch on quick, don’t you?’

  Dash’s heart soared. ‘Really?’ He was scared to hope.

  ‘A knight’s got to learn sometime, right?’

  Outside, the wind was like blades on Dash’s skin and they hurried across the grounds back to the towers and the warmth of the great hall. Upon their entry, a group of young kindred waved to Luka, gesturing to a seat they’d saved.

  ‘Hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Dash,’ she said, before turning to her friends.

  On the far side of the hall, Dash spotted Tailor waiting for him.

  ‘Luka?’ Dash called out.

  ‘Mmm?’ she said, pausing mid-step.

  ‘What do you want? More than anything?’

  She gave him a wicked grin. ‘To be the best damn Valian warrior the realm’s ever seen.’ And with that, she dipped her head and went to the kindred.

  For the first time in a long while, Dash felt the corners of his mouth tug upward. Luka was right. If he could find his purpose, he could find himself. Which meant there was something he needed to do before dawn tomorrow.

  Dash approached Tailor. ‘I need to write a letter,’ he said.

  Chapter 37

  Henri scrutinised the letter she held, lines of messy scribble scrawled across the parchment. Thankfully, among the differences the sisters had, penmanship was one of them. This was unmistakably Sahara’s hand.

  ‘Do you think she’ll believe it?’ Sahara asked quietly, perched on the edge of Henri’s desk.

  Henri sighed. ‘I don’t know. But we have to try. Allehra will fight for her life if she knows you’re alive.’

  ‘She wouldn’t do the same for you?’

  ‘Clearly not. She is much changed since you left.’

  ‘Even so.’

  Henri shrugged. She didn’t know what sort of answer her twin expected. No two relationships were the same, and the one she had with Allehra was vastly complex. It was not one of mother and daughter, but rather, of ruler and adviser. Though ‘adviser’ was a loose term for what Allehra was, with her cryptic nature and web of secrets. It had been like that for as long as Henri remembered.

  ‘Are you certain we should send for her?’ Henri said, folding the letter. She dripped hot black wax upon it, sealing it.

  Sahara nodded. ‘Yes. Her best chance for survival is here.’

  ‘With the war that’s about to start?’

  ‘With her family.’

  Henri looked up as the word left Sahara’s lips. It had been a long time since she’d thought of family, and being a real part of one. The idea of it now sparked fear in her chest.

  ‘Sahara?’ she said.

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘I can’t lose you again.’

  Her sister locked eyes with her, sadness flashing across her face. ‘I’ll try not to die in the upcoming battle, then.’

  Henri felt a smile tug at her mouth. ‘I’d appreciate that.’

  Henri was heaving on layers of palma furs when Bleak found her.

  ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ she said, reaching for a cloak of her own.

  ‘Oh?’ Henri still hadn’t quite wrapped her head around the fact that the girl she’d come to know as a scrappy, untrained Ashai was apparently a ruler of a continent. And that her name wasn’t, in fact, Bleak.

  ‘Have you sent your missive to Allehra yet?’

  Henri waved the bit of parchment. ‘Just about to go to the Valley of Twisted Trees now. It’s quicker to send one of Eydis’ wolfdogs. Less risky, too.’

  Bleak nodded. ‘Can you include a message from me?’

  Henri’s hands stilled at the buttons of her cloak. ‘What?’

  ‘We need the groundlings.’

  ‘Say that again?’

  ‘We need the groundlings, the Valian groundlings. With the war to come, we’ll need healers, and yours are the best. Valia is their home, too, I’m sure there are some that would wish to help.’

  ‘It’s not a matter of if they want to help or not.’

  ‘Yes, it is. Give them the choice, Henri. I met a groundling, Lyse, before we left for Heathton. They take pride in their work, in their home. Give them this freedom, to help their people if they wish it. We’ll need them.’

  Lyse … The name of one of the groundlings helping Allehra. Henri took a deep breath. To send for help from the groundlings. It wasn’t the Valian Way. The kindred were the defenders of Valia; it was their duty to protect its people.

  Bleak held out a piece of parchment. ‘Don’t you think it’s time the Valian Way adapted?’

  Henri’s hand flew to the pouch of herbs around her neck. ‘How did you …?’

  Bleak smiled. ‘Believe it or not, I might actually just be getting to know you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sometimes, you don’t need magic to know what another person is thinking.’

  In spite of herself, Henri laughed.

  ‘I’ll come with you to the valley.’

  ‘Don’t you want to stay with Bren?’

  Bleak sadly shook her head. ‘He doesn’t want me there,’ she said. ‘He asked for Tilly.’

  Henri hesitated, and then handed Bleak a
woollen scarf. ‘Alright.’

  The pair finished bundling on their layers. Henri hated how the coats restricted her movement, but they were a necessity. The blistering cold was unforgiving.

  They borrowed two of Eydis’ many dogs from the kennels and started off towards the Valley of Twisted Trees on horseback. Henri’s teeth were already chattering as the wind picked up around them. Bleak muttered numerous curses under her breath.

  ‘Henri!’ someone called. ‘Henri, wait!’

  Athene reached them at the outer gates, her cheeks flushed.

  Henri didn’t miss the look of dislike that passed across Bleak’s face as her kindred came up alongside them. Strange. Something had happened between them. Athene had always been Bleak’s favourite.

  ‘What is it?’ Henri asked.

  Athene glanced between her and Bleak. ‘You should have a guard. Let me saddle up.’

  ‘That’s not necessary,’ Henri told her. ‘Bleak and I are safe enough. It’s not far.’

  ‘But …’

  The more Athene protested, the more it fed Henri’s suspicions.

  Athene kept pushing. ‘You and Alarise,’ the name came out forced, ‘are too valuable. We can’t have —’

  ‘I said it’s not necessary. Thank you.’ Henri squeezed her horse’s sides with her heels, following the canines’ lead, and didn’t look back as they left Athene at the gates.

  Snow fell heavily, dusting their hair and shoulders with wet flakes. Their mounts trotted steadily through the deep powder, unaffected by the icy gale.

  When they entered the forest, Henri couldn’t stand it any longer. She turned to Bleak. ‘What happened? With Athene?’

  Bleak grimaced, her grip visibly tightening on the reins. ‘I went into her mind. Accidentally. I saw …’

  ‘What?’

  Bleak sighed. ‘I think you should ask Sahara.’

  ‘Sahara? Why? What’s she got to do with Athene?’

  ‘Just ask her, Henri. It’s not my place.’

  Henri clicked her tongue in frustration. There were too many secrets floating around for her liking. Which reminded her …

  ‘Did you notice anything unusual about the boy, Dash?’ she asked Bleak, urging her horse deeper into the trees.

  Bleak gave her a sideways glance. ‘Like?’

  You were supposed to save my son, Swinton had said to Fi. The salt-sprayed wind had carried the words across the wet shale back to Henri. My son …

  A piece of the puzzle had dropped into place for her then, and she’d been turning it over in her mind ever since. It explained so much about the commander. But the boy … The boy clearly had no idea who his real father was.

  Bleak was watching her.

  ‘Well?’ Henri said.

  Bleak nodded. ‘Well … he looks like …’ she trailed off, pulling her reins taut.

  A vicious growl sounded.

  Henri’s hands shot to her katars, unsheathing them in an instant. Bleak drew a dagger. Henri didn’t know if the sound had come from one of their dogs up ahead, or something else. They inched forward on their horses, the insistent snow dampening Henri’s sharp senses. Henri signalled for them to halt and leaped down from her mount. She looked at Bleak and pressed a single finger to her lips. Bleak nodded.

  Henri crept through the snow, using the trees for cover. She could hear something moving. She followed the sound, careful not to make any noise of her own, and spotted their canines, watching on from behind a bush.

  What’s out there?

  The rustling sound grew closer, and closer, until —

  Henri threw herself into the open, colliding with a petite frame. She shoved her opponent into a trunk, and pressed a katar to the stranger’s throat.

  It wasn’t a stranger.

  ‘Mariette,’ she snapped, drawing back her blade. ‘What in the realm are you doing?’

  Mariette shoved her off, annoyed. ‘I don’t answer to you,’ she bit back. ‘But if you must know, I’m looking for Bear. Eydis can’t find him.’

  ‘Bear?’ The dog hardly left the queen’s side. ‘Do you need help?’

  ‘No, I’m fine. He’ll be around here somewhere.’

  Bleak appeared with the horses.

  ‘Just me,’ Mariette said to her.

  ‘So I see … Henri, we should get going.’

  Henri nodded, taking the reins from Bleak. ‘Sorry,’ she said to Mariette.

  ‘No harm done. See you back at the towers.’

  Swinging herself back onto her horse, Henri gave a final nod. ‘See you back there.’

  They left Mariette in the woods and continued to push deeper into the forest. The trees closed in around them, until finally, they reached the Valley of Twisted Trees. Although Henri had seen it a handful of times now, it was no less eerie. The trunks and branches were malformed and bare, and yet still somehow rich with magic.

  Dismounting, Henri showed Bleak to the entrance. Down inside the cavern, the women secured their letters to the dog’s harness.

  ‘Do you think they’ll come?’ Bleak asked as they watched the canine disappear into the darkness.

  ‘Only time will tell,’ Henri said, getting to her feet.

  The journey back to the towers was mostly silent but for the crunch of snow beneath the horses’ hooves. Henri didn’t mind the newfound ease between her and Bleak …

  Alarise, she corrected herself as the gates of Wildenhaven came back into view. The girl hadn’t turned out as Henri had expected. It seemed like a lifetime ago she was leading them through the living bridges of Valia, finding herself in the company of a mind whisperer for the first time.

  She glanced across at her friend. ‘What is it?’ she asked, noting the pained expression Bleak’s odd eyes held.

  ‘He … He called me a liar,’ she said softly, more to herself than to Henri.

  ‘Aren’t we all liars? To a certain extent?’ Henri asked gently. ‘You did what you had to do to survive.’

  Bleak gave a heavy sigh. ‘I don’t want to be a liar,’ she said. ‘Not anymore.’

  ‘Me either,’ Henri told her.

  It was a relief to shrug out of the cumbersome furs and step into the blazing warmth of the hall. Bleak ducked away quickly, no doubt to go and visit Bren, while Henri sought Eydis. The winter queen sat at a large table, with Dash, of all people, beside her. Their heads were nearly touching as they leaned in close and talked in lowered voices. To Henri’s surprise, she spotted Bear at Eydis’ feet.

  ‘You found him?’ she asked, taking up the chair opposite the pair of seers.

  ‘What?’ Eydis said, looking up with a furrowed brow.

  ‘Mariette, she told —’

  ‘My queen,’ Nicolai interrupted, appearing at the head of the table, snow still dusting his shoulders.

  ‘Nicolai?’

  ‘They’ve breached our shores,’ he said, his face grave.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Port Avesta.’

  Eydis nodded, taking a deep breath. ‘Very well. We must —’

  ‘That’s not all, my queen.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘There’s mist, Your Majesty.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Mist. Rolling in from the south.’

  Chapter 38

  Dash edged away from the chaos unfolding in the hall. Heated debates broke out instantly between Queen Eydis’ generals, the Valians and Casimir’s group of rebels. Tailor sidled up beside Dash, crossing his arms over his chest.

  ‘I don’t want any part in it either,’ he said, looking on. ‘Though, best they get it out of their systems now. Can’t be having this on the battlefield.’

  Battlefield. A few months ago, Dash never would have dreamed he’d be anywhere near such a thing, but now … It was different now. His hand went to the hilt of the old broadsword sheathed at his hip. Luka had given it to him.

  Tailor followed his gaze. ‘Heard you know how to use that thing?’

  Dash shrugged. ‘Some.’

 
; ‘Some’s better than none, little brother.’

  But Dash wasn’t listening anymore. Eydis had taken to the dais, her long gown trailing after her, her eyes shining fiercely.

  A gong sounded, and Dash’s hands went instinctively to his ears.

  ‘That’s enough,’ Eydis yelled.

  Silence fell.

  ‘We march for Port Avesta at dawn,’ she said.

  ‘What about the mist?’ a voice called from the crowd.

  ‘We will find a way to contain it. I will not have these false subjects invade our lands and terrorise our people.’ The queen’s voice was laced with challenge, but Dash couldn’t imagine anyone arguing with her in this moment. Queen Eydis was a force to be reckoned with in her own right.

  A Valian woman stepped forward, with braided hair black as midnight and eyes like a cat. The woman from the wanted posters. Henrietta of Valia.

  He turned to Tailor. ‘What’s she …?’

  But Tailor was gone.

  ‘My kindred and I will lead the attack,’ said Henrietta, looking every bit the legendary warrior.

  Queen Eydis bowed her head in thanks. ‘Our forces will fall in line behind you.’

  Another woman stepped forward and Dash started at the sight of another Valian – who looked nearly identical to Henrietta, only with shorter, unbound hair.

  She cleared her throat. ‘Our rebel clan stands with you as well.’

  Murmurs of approval sounded from around the hall.

  With the formalities over, Dash watched as Queen Eydis dismissed her generals and approached him. Unsure of the appropriate response, Dash froze as she rested a hand on his arm and leaned in towards him.

  ‘I want you close by me,’ she whispered. ‘Something’s amiss, and I think our visions are strongest, most accurate, when we are near an Ashai of likeness.’

  Over the past few days, Dash himself had thought the same thing, noticing that whenever Eydis was near, the magic felt thicker in his veins.

  ‘Of course, Your Majesty,’ he said, bowing his head.

  As the queen made to leave, she hesitated. ‘You’re doing well,’ she told him. ‘I know it must be no easy adjustment, from boy to man, from stablehand to royal ally.’

 

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