“I know this may be rather short notice, and we’re all still getting to know each other on a personal level, but we cannot afford to wait for a relationship to develop naturally. For people in our position, politics must come first. But with patience, and commitment, the hearts will surely follow.”
For a long moment he said nothing, lowering his face to make a study of his feet. At last he sighed, lifting his eyes to meet hers. “Has anyone ever told you how convincing you are?”
Arivana gave him a wry grin. “Perhaps. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing it.” She looked over her shoulder and jerked her head at Claris and Chase. As they moved into place on either side, she held out her arms to Daye. “Now, take my hands so we can get this started before another catastrophe threatens to ruin our wedding!”
Jasside leaned against Mevon, enfolded in his arms: a posture she’d come to favor. They stood close enough to the podium to see Arivana, looking radiant as ever despite the simplicity of her attire, but remained far enough away as to blend in, commanding no position of respect or attention, though no one would question should she demand it. Just two more faces in the crowd, two more lovers come to cement their souls together, for whatever time they had left.
Mevon’s voice rumbled above her. “Green?” he asked.
Jasside looked down at herself. A dress the color of spring grass flowed down from her neck to her ankles. It didn’t fit quite right, but every seamstress and tailor had been busy with requests and didn’t have time to make adjustments. Growing up, needlework hadn’t been her most practiced skill.
“What of it?” she replied.
She felt his shoulders bob upwards. “Most of the women here are in white, though a few are in red or gold. You’re the only one I see in green.”
“There aren’t many women here from home. I’m guessing your father didn’t allow civilian followers on the ships when you set sail.”
“No. But there are women in the Imperial army.”
“A few of them. And like you, they’re doing this in their formal military attire.” She ran her fingers lightly against the red-and-black sleeve of his uniform. “It’s strange seeing you in anything but your Hardohl leathers. Where did you even find this?”
“My father had spares.” Mevon grunted. “I don’t think it was coincidence that he thought to bring my size.”
Jasside laughed, pushing herself away to get a better look at him. “I think you look handsome in it.”
He smiled down at her. “And you look . . . well, you could wear mud-stained rags and still attract a blind man. In that?” He shook his head.
Failing to suppress a chortle, she punched his chest. “Oh, cut out that nonsense. It doesn’t even fit right.”
“Mine does, but it’s . . . itchy. I can’t wait until I can take it off.”
She locked eyes with him, throwing up a devious smile. “Neither can I.”
Jasside took the greatest pleasure in watching him blush and try to stutter out a response. She spun back towards the platform. “Oh look! They’re about to start.”
“All right, I think we’re ready,” Yandumar said.
“We most certainly are not,” Gilshamed said. “You changed the entire speech at least three times now, and we haven’t even finished the ending!”
“Bah. Doesn’t matter. I’ll think of something. Just do the thing.”
“What thing?”
“You know, the ‘making me loud’ thing.”
“I think we’d better—”
“Look, I’m freezing my balls off here, and the young queen over there is wearing half as much fabric. We drag this out any more, and we’ll end the day with more bride-sicles than happy newlyweds.”
Sighing, Gilshamed nodded. “Very well.”
Yandumar turned towards the others, bouncing his glance between Arivana and Daye. “You two ready?”
They both nodded. The boy didn’t even seem hesitant . . . anymore.
Unnatural warmth swirled behind him. Yandumar couldn’t see it, but knew Gilshamed’s spell was now in effect. He cleared his throat.
“All right, listen up!” he began, his voice rumbling across the field and bringing all eyes instantly towards him. “I’m the only living emperor, so that means whatever I say goes. You got a problem with that, you can go ahead and leave now.”
A murmur rose from the participants at this, but no one moved.
“That was not in the script!” Gilshamed hissed from behind him.
Yandumar glanced once at the parchment in his hand.
Then dropped it.
Gilshamed groaned. “Shade of Elos . . .”
“Well,” Yandumar continued, “since you all stayed, I gotta assume that means you still wanna get married. That’s fine. That’s good, even. But you all better make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons.
“Marriage is for life. Not until it gets hard or inconvenient, or until someone better comes along. For. Life. It doesn’t matter if you’re royalty or you haven’t got half a coin to your name, if you get hitched you become partners until the end. Partners. Someone to share your journey through life with, no matter what stands in your way. Someone who looks out for the other’s best interests because they know it will benefit them both.
“So love and respect your new spouses. Protect them. Cherish them. Give everything you’ve got to them, and them alone. And abyss take me, listen to them! You can’t put two people in a room for half a toll before they find something to disagree on. You wanna be miserable? By all means, let your pride rule, and disregard everything the other has to say, and forget about compromise. But if you ask me, life’s too short to live it like that. Even if you’re unlucky enough to live for thousands of years.”
Yandumar paused, giving his voice a rest and his words a moment to sink in. He knew he was probably rambling, but it couldn’t have been worse than that abyss-taken script Gilshamed had scribbled up. Oh, it was moving all right, but the words would’ve sounded strange coming from him. Besides, people didn’t need reminders about the frailty of life, and seizing the opportunity for love before death inevitably came for them.
The ruvak had already hammered that message into every skull.
“I know we all come from different places,” he continued, “with as many marriage customs as there are excuses for getting divorced, but I don’t got the patience to try working ’em all in. You wanna sacrifice a goat or douse yourself in ice water or have your lady friends beat the groom with sticks, you do it on your own time.
“So as I said, we’re doing things my way. Short and simple. Just exchange vows of faithfulness and love and commitment, and whatever else you feel like including—so long as you mean it—then seal the deal with a kiss. And make it quick before we all freeze to death!”
Mevon turned from his father’s speech, grasping Jasside’s hands as he peered into her riveting brown eyes.
“I . . . don’t know what to say,” he said.
“Would you like me to go first?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’ll just end up repeating what you said, most likely. I want to get this right, but I don’t know if what I feel can be adequately conveyed in mere words.”
She squeezed his hands. “I understand. How can you express something that can’t be seen or heard or tasted or touched?”
“Indeed.”
“Hmm.” Her eyes wandered for a few moments. “What’s that phrase your kind is always using? Something about nailing the last plank on a bridge?”
Mevon smiled. “Even when it’s burning.”
“Yes, that one. Why don’t you try telling me what that means to you?”
He didn’t have to think long about it. “It means that once you’ve started something, you do the right thing and see it through until the end, no matter how difficult it becomes.”
She raised an eyebrow at him.
“What?” he said. “Should I consider you a task I need to accomplish?”
“No,�
� she said, laughing. “But you have most definitely started something with me.”
He smiled again, wider this time. “In that case, I vow to finish with you as well, regardless of who or what might try to stop me.”
“And I promise that I won’t ever be perfect.”
“What?”
“Do you want me to give you false expectations?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. Because I guarantee there will be times I’ll be sad or angry or irrational, or that I’ll disagree with every word you say just because you say it and hate you just because I know you’re right but will never admit it. Some days I’ll wake up looking less appealing than a shadow beast and do nothing to rectify it, and eventually I’ll grow old and wrinkled and misshapen.
“As I said, I will not be perfect, but neither will I expect you to be. And with all my heart, I vow that I will never, ever, give up on us.”
Mevon shook his head. “I guess I was wrong.”
“About what?”
“What I feel can be expressed in words. Now I know what they are.”
She smiled up at him, and he saw all he felt shining out from her gaze, with more intensity that he thought possible.
After a moment, she cleared her throat. “Well, it appears we’ve fulfilled the first of your father’s requirements.”
He nodded, understanding her intent clearly, and bent his lips to hers in order to . . . satisfy . . . the second.
Arivana had given Daye her vows and received his in return. They’d each been prepared in advance, a strict script to ensure all matters of state were covered in detail, with Claris and Chase standing as mutual witnesses to ensure compliance. It was nothing like the fairy tales her mother had told her as a child.
She did her best not to show her disappointment with that fact.
I told him that our hearts would follow. If only I could believe it myself.
Now, as she stood looking up into his eyes with her hands held in his, all that remained for him to become her husband and the new king of Panisahldron . . . was a kiss. But a few moments of awkward stillness made it apparent that neither of them quite knew how to proceed.
She was just about to turn a helpless expression towards Claris, hoping her aunt would somehow find a way to save her, when Daye let out a loud sigh. Surprising her, he stepped forward, sliding down to one knee, so that his eyes were just level with her neck.
“Look,” he said. “This isn’t what I ever dreamed my life would be like, and I get the sense that you feel the same way. And you’re absolutely right about what this means to the people. It’s important. Essential, even. But abyss take me if I’m not going to make the best of the situation.
“I’ve said my vows to the queen. Now, let me say my vows to you.”
Breath catching, all she could do was nod.
“First, I promise to admit my mistakes and forgive you for yours. Abyss knows I’ve made plenty already, a trend that would take a miracle to reverse.
“Second, I promise to be gentle with you. You’ve dealt with more hardship than anyone should have to bear in a lifetime, and shown great personal strength throughout it all. Still, I know that everyone needs someone in their life with whom they can let go of pretense and simply . . . be. I’ll do my best to be that someone for you.
“And last, I promise to be patient. I know our hearts won’t start beating in harmony immediately, but I’ll work towards learning your wants and needs, and sharing your joy and pain, and whatever else it takes until they finally do.”
Sniffing, Arivana wiped a tear from her eye. “Something tells me it won’t take that long at all.”
It seemed to be the right thing to say, for he grinned ear to ear.
She cupped his face and leaned forward. True to his word, he was gentle with her, but she still felt the passion exuding through his lips.
By the time she pulled away, clamoring for breath, snow had begun to fall, brushing her arms and shoulders like cold kisses from a butterfly. Daye looked up at the sky and smiled.
“A white wedding,” he said. “It’s considered good luck in Sceptre.”
Thunder crackled in the distance.
“What about a white lightning wedding?” she asked, smirking.
“That,” Gilshamed said, stepping near them, “was not lightning.”
Arivana followed the valynkar’s gaze, lifting her eyes up past the glacier to the high, snow-swept peaks of the mountain. Like a great wintery wave, an avalanche rushed down the slopes, and the crowd gathered to observe the mass wedding was directly in its path.
A heart recently swelled from the unexpected now shattered by the same.
Jasside pushed away from Mevon, despite aching for more. She’d felt something that shouldn’t have been: a crack of dark energy released from the mountain’s height. Just a sliver, but where it was placed meant the possibility of serious consequences.
A moment later, she felt the ground tremble and saw the wall of snow rolling towards the field like a thick, angry cloud.
She didn’t have time to contemplate the how or why of it, or respond to Mevon’s questioning stare, or even shout out a warning. All she could do was energize.
Spying a stretch of grass between the participants and the crowd beneath the glacier, she shadow-dashed to it. The noise and vibrations intensified immediately. People began running, screaming, needing no warning to realize that death was coming for them.
Not if I have anything to say about it.
Jasside patted herself in search of the spheres that housed her darkwisps. A wasted moment. Her wedding dress hadn’t come with any pockets, so she’d left them behind. Lives would hinge on that decision, made within a false sense of security. It was only a matter of magnitude.
Filling herself with all the dark energy she dared, then more, she erected a barricade across the breadth of the glacier, just behind the last rows of the now fleeing crowd. A thousand paces wide, and a hundred high, she poured everything she had into it, hoping to buy people the time they needed to get clear.
Her heart thumped twice in her chest.
The avalanche struck.
Like a wave breaking over rocks, the snow swept over her barrier, barely slowing.
Cold death swirled down on all sides.
Can’t save them all. Just try to save as many as you can!
A strict barrier was useless. There was simply too much force behind the avalanche to try to halt its advance. She had to direct it somehow, away from people to where it would do the least amount of harm.
Down the mountain, to the southeast. The valley there was home to no permanent residences.
It will have to do.
Jasside cast a new barrier. Not a straight line this time, but a wide curve, channeling the icy, torrential river away from the crowds. Gasping with the effort of keeping it in place, she looked towards the foaming, raging head and realized there were hundreds now in its path that had been out of it before.
And she hadn’t a drop of energy left to help them.
A tear rolled down her cheek as they were swept under the snow.
Gilshamed had rushed forward through the air as soon as he’d realized what was happening, but knew within moments of leaving the ground that he would be too late.
By the time he was in position to do any good, it was over.
Heart heavy with loss, he settled down and dismissed his wings. Mevon cradled his new wife, who breathed harshly into his arms, while everywhere else was filled with weeping and wailing as people mourned the lost. The sounds were strangely intense in the hush following the avalanche’s expense.
Not even those newly wed had been spared from the mountain’s fury.
He had just begun to survey the damage, searching in vain for some way to be useful, when he heard a voice behind him.
“Saboteurs,” the voice said. “I’m surprised none of you saw this coming.”
He turned to see Vashodia stroll towards him through ankle-deep sno
w.
Gilshamed sneered at her. “And you did?”
She appraised him with her incessant, knowing glance. “I’ve been expecting something like this for quite some time. Sem Aira wasn’t the only spy the ruvak planted among us, after all.”
“You knew,” Mevon said, rising as he helped Jasside gently to her feet. “But you did nothing about it? You didn’t even think to warn the rest of us?”
Vashodia shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d be so stupid as to hold a mass wedding without consulting me first. And beneath a glacier no less!”
“Invitations were posted everywhere,” Gilshamed said.
“Not everywhere, and I’ve been busy since this morning. I didn’t even know about it until a few marks ago.”
Mevon grunted. “I see now why Jasside had so much trouble with you.”
Jasside pulled on her new husband’s arm. “Don’t engage with her. That’s one battle that no one will ever win.”
Vashodia giggled. “So glad you still remember that.”
“Why did you even come here, then?” Gilshamed asked. “To gloat over your superior foresight? Lives have been lost, Vashodia. Hope . . .” He hung his head and continued quietly, “Hope has been shattered.”
“I dare say that was their plan.” The mierothi pointed towards the horizon, where dark specks filled the air like a locust swarm, just beyond the influence of the voltensus. “And, alas, our days of respite are finally at an end. Quite a few ruvak fleets have joined the vanguard, tumbling out of the void like . . . well, like an avalanche, I suppose. They now number more than thrice as many as before.
“I do hope you’re all ready.”
Gilshamed could only shake his head in disbelief before the colony-wide alarms began sounding.
Chapter 17
Draevenus honed his daggers for what seemed the hundredth time, casting glances up the trail for what seemed the thousandth. Both activities had become routine as of late, reflexive. The first was merely to pass the time. Only once he realized what the second meant—who he was watching for, and more importantly, why—did he stop. And wonder.
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