The Twelve Kingdoms: The Mark of the Tala

by Jeffe Kennedy

  It turned out the others shared my impatience to make plans, however. They proposed various strategies—including storming Ordnung again—some sliding suspicious looks in my direction. Rayfe let them spin through their ideas, sitting back and watching. The ideas grew grander and, to my ear, more and more unlikely. When Terin suggested letting Uorsin’s army assemble and then surrounding and slaughtering them like rabid sheep—his exact words—I finally stepped in.

  “Unless the Tala have a far larger army than I’ve been led to believe”—I flicked a glance at Rayfe, who watched me with the same equanimity he’d given everyone else—“we cannot withstand a direct conflict with Uorsin’s forces.”

  “We, Princess?” Terin hmm’d with fake surprise. “Have you so easily traded sides then?”

  “Do you question my loyalty, Uncle?”

  “I do, yes.” Terin stood and set pointed fingertips on the table, addressing them all. “I would say your loyalty is, at best, not yet tested and, at worst, deeply questionable, given how easily you forsook your family and kingdom for, what? A good rogering? What happens when the next sexy man comes along?”

  “Terin,” Rayfe growled. I laid a hand on his forearm, the muscles twitching under my touch. He looked surprised but gave me a slight nod. I stood also.

  “You say, Uncle”—I used the title deliberately, again—“that my loyalty has not been tested. I would put forth that none of you has faced a test of loyalty such as I have.” I surveyed the group around the table, the older generals, the young angry captains, the platinum-haired woman I recognized from the law group who assessed me with keen blue eyes, a priest of Moranu. “I venture that none of you knows what it’s like to be born of two enemies, to wed who you were told was a worse enemy, to make a real choice to be loyal to what seems right.

  “Have I forsaken my loyalty to my father and my King? Yes. Yes, I have.”

  They shifted, not meeting my gaze. Except for Rayfe. With his hair pulled tightly back, his face looked all fierce planes and angles, but his eyes held something softer and I wondered if he was remembering last night.

  “I don’t know what loyalty means to you, but I don’t believe it’s blind. It’s not something you offer and never reconsider. Loyalty, like love, is based on trust and belief. I will always be loyal to my homeland and to the people who live there. There is good and bad, true, but they are worthy of my belief. Rayfe, my husband, has proven himself worthy of my belief. Outside of bed, as well.”

  Several of the men chuckled at that, and a glimmer of approval lit the woman’s eyes. The priest studied me, as if he looked right through me.

  “Uorsin means to attack a kingdom that has never done him wrong. He has committed crimes against his people and my family.”

  “Can you prove these crimes?” The woman from the law council spoke up, her gaze a shrewd challenge.

  “In a court of law? I don’t know. But in my own heart, where I decide—” I realized I’d clenched my fists and slammed them on the table. In slow consideration, I unfolded them, Rayfe’s ring gleaming on my finger. “In my own heart and mind, where I decide my loyalty, Uorsin has lost it. Rayfe has won.”

  Suddenly weary, I sat. Rayfe’s fingers twined with mine under the table.

  “A fine speech.” Terin hadn’t moved. “But what of your sisters, the noble Prince Hugh, whom you so admire—will you turn your back on them so easily? Would you sacrifice them to preserve Annfwn?”

  “I don’t know.” I could give nothing but that honest answer. “If you could have Salena back, with a healthy child, your niece on the throne, would you wish Rayfe away?”

  His face flooded with ruby rage. “Don’t you dare question my loyalty. I would never take any action that—”

  “But you might feel it, wouldn’t you, Uncle? Isn’t that what you’re asking me—to imagine how I might feel if something terrible happened?” I shook my head at him, slow and measured. “No. I refuse to play that game. I am here. I’ve declared my intention to support Rayfe and protect Annfwn at all costs—for my sake and to honor my mother, who sacrificed her own happiness. As you know better than most, Uncle.”

  Terin gazed at me, fulminating.

  The priest spoke, asking me a question in the Tala language. His tone was gentle, but the challenge in it unmistakable. I glanced helplessly at Rayfe, but the woman from the law council translated.

  “Is she even truly one of us? Can she shift, can she speak to the heart, or is her blood too weak?”

  “You know full well we do not demand any such thing for citizenship.” Rayfe’s words cut like a cold blade. The priest understood his words, I could see.

  “And you know full well that many of us think we should.” Terin’s jaw worked as he spoke. “We have too many part-bloods—that is why the magic grows unstable.”

  “It’s true, though,” said the judicial woman, “that our queens must be able to speak to the heart.”

  The priest spoke to her in Tala and she replied to him in the common language, casting a sideways glance at me.

  “Yes, if she cannot shift, she will be of no real help to Annfwn. Not as queen.”

  “She can shift—I’ve seen it myself,” Rayfe inserted.

  “Excellent!” The woman beamed at me. “Then if Princess Andromeda would simply demonstrate for us, we can settle this question and proceed with making her queen in truth.”

  Two dozen pairs of eyes fixed on me, intent. I forced myself not to quail.

  “I would not subject her to such indignity.”

  “She can’t perform on command?” Triumph, tinged with something else—disappointment?—radiated from Terin. “Or perhaps you’re not speaking the full truth, King?”

  “Are you calling my honor into question?”

  “No—your judgment. You wouldn’t be the first to be swayed by a pretty face and a comely figure.”

  Rayfe stood, the wolf growl coming out in his voice. “First you accuse my queen of poor choices for love of my bed; now you question my honor for want of hers?”

  “I would put forth,” one of the older generals inserted, “that this is not the subject of our meeting, but rather time-sensitive strategy planning.”

  “This is about strategy,” Rayfe replied with strained patience. “Andromeda is key to our defenses.”

  The general huffed. “Ridiculous. We have you. Have had you lo these many years and all is fine. Salena’s time is over. There’s no reason a king can’t do what our queens have. We don’t need this child, pretty though she may be.”

  Rayfe opened his mouth, black guilt shadowing his face. And I knew he meant to confess his supposed failures to them.

  I stood, again laying a hand on Rayfe’s arm. “It’s all right. Please excuse me, my husband and king. It seems as if the discussions might go more smoothly without my presence. You can stick to the very important subject at hand.”

  He looked up at me, the harsh lines around his lips softening as he searched my gaze. “You need not go. This is your rightful place.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “But I have something important to do.”

  He picked up my hand and kissed it. “I shall fill you in on everything discussed when we meet later, my queen.”

  In truth, Terin’s words ate at me. What would I do if it came down to saving my sisters or Annfwn? I could only hope to Moranu I wouldn’t be asked to make such a choice. And it seemed I’d have to prove I could shift. Do it reliably. Then find this heart and somehow talk it into doing what I wanted. If I could connect to this magic, maybe all of it would be moot. I could bring the exiled home, keep Uorsin out and Rayfe intact.

  I only had to voluntarily turn my skin inside out.

  I nearly went to find Fiona, to take that ride on the beach I’d been yearning for. A big part of me wanted to. But that was the old me, riding off instead of tending to things. And now I recognized that much of that urge had been me, looking for a way to Annfwn. I sympathized with all those part-bloods stranded outside in a way that
the others couldn’t. They didn’t know how it felt, to have Annfwn calling and not heed the answer.

  Even Uorsin, though he’d given up the dream of following his blood to his ancient homeland, had built his seat as close as he could get.

  I made my way up the cliffside, looking for the stone arena. I figured, if you can find your way out of the hills by following the water downwards, then I could find the cliff top by following the roads upwards.

  Really, I should have gone back to the house to change clothes, but I wasn’t sure exactly which road to take. With a sudden rush of gratitude, I realized Rayfe had left me to my own devices. No attendants, no escort. A subtle vote of confidence that meant more to me than any vows.

  I made my way, taking any road or path with an incline. Surely over time I’d build better leg muscles for this. Instead of weaker, I now grew stronger every day. Soon I’d be downright athletic. Here and there people seemed to recognize me, offering polite nods. Mostly they didn’t, and for the first time in my life, I was just another woman, walking along, tending to her business. Even my coloring blended with the Tala.

  I loved the feeling.

  Eventually I saw a young boy bringing a herd of little black-and-white goats down a winding path. The afternoon was declining into evening, so I thought he must be bringing them down from daytime pasture. Sure enough, I soon found the low wall that bordered the plateau and a gate carved with roses.

  The arena, though, was filled with children. I heard their voices as I approached, like in the practice yard when the youngest ones came to first swing their blades, raucous and filled with uninhibited joy. I leaned my folded arms on the low stone gate and watched.

  A man in soft brown clothes lined up the children, as if to kick a ball in a game. He made them all settle and wait, then yelled what sounded like “Go!” The first child stepped forward and—snap—changed into a rabbit and went bounding off, running a rapid circle around the arena, to the back of the line, and popped back into his human shape, slapping hands with his buddies.

  One after another they did this, skipping, cantering, and flying about, transforming as easily as the moon rises and sets.

  So simple for them.

  Some of the children tried on different forms, challenging one another to be a different animal each time. A couple complained to the teacher that the lack of water meant they couldn’t be fish. They all seemed to be using the common tongue, more city children, then, than the rural ones.

  “You shouldn’t be watching us,” a high voice accused. “It’s against the rules, you know.”

  What had been a songbird lighting on the wall next to me was now a little girl with black ringlets.

  “Thalia!” The teacher strode over, lifted her, and set her down. “This is Queen Andromeda, and she may do as she wishes.”

  The girl’s rosebud mouth formed an astonished O and she bobbed a curtsy. “My apologies, Queen Anderom . . .”

  “Andi,” I told her. “Princess Andi is fine. And I’ve only just arrived, so I don’t know all the rules yet. My apologies to you.”

  “That’s okay,” she confided. “I don’t mind if you watch. Look!” With that, she burst into songbird shape again and flew in giddy circles, singing. The teacher laughed and sent her back to play with the other kids.

  “I am sorry,” I told him. “Rayfe mentioned this was meant to be a private place. I’ll move along.”

  “No need, my lady,” he replied with an easy smile and a light bow. “I’m Zyr. We’re cousins, actually. The family is greatly looking forward to meeting you. When things settle down a bit.”

  Zyr. I recognized that name. “Were you a prisoner at Ordnung till recently?”

  He winced. “I did have that pleasure.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Why would you apologize?” He looked genuinely puzzled. “I don’t recall you turning the key in the lock.”

  “Yes, but my father—”

  “Is a different person.”

  “Well, and you were all there for me.”

  “No, we were there for us, for Annfwn. People don’t really do things they don’t want to do, Queen Andi.” He winked at me. “I suspect you have an exaggerated sense of responsibility. No wonder you and Rayfe have hit it off so well.”

  He laughed, delighted at my blush, and offered me a hand, clasping mine in both of his. “We are so happy for you both. Welcome home, Andromeda. May you flourish here.”

  Zyr clapped his hands three times, and the teeming circus of animals resolved back into a group of rosy-cheeked and grinning children. “We’ll be on our way and you can have the arena.”

  “Oh, no—I didn’t mean for . . .”

  I trailed off in the face of his easy grin. He shrugged one shoulder. “They’ve done well today. Never hurts to have an extra hour’s free time, just to play.” He rolled the stone away and the kids took off, running down the hill with whoops, not unlike the little goats going home. “Besides, you likely have practicing to do.”

  “I don’t—” I chewed my lip. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

  “You saw the kids.” Zyr tugged a lock of my hair, the irreverent cousin I’d never known to miss. “Do what comes naturally.”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets and strolled down the hillside, whistling like Thalia’s little songbird.

  I walked myself to the center of the arena. The moon hadn’t risen yet and the sun still shone warm and golden on the sea. That hadn’t mattered to the children, though. Nor had their clothes. Still, to be safe, I set my ring and necklace to the side.

  That could have been me. It could have been all three of us, growing up here in this lovely, magical place, playing games and shifting from one creature to the next. Amelia would have loved it. Even Ursula, with her love of contests, would have excelled at this. Surely they had the possibility of this gift as much as I? I might have the mark that supposedly meant I could talk to this heart, but other Tala couldn’t and they could still shift. Given the right circumstances—and our mother’s blood—perhaps they, too, could learn. I could teach them so they could know the joy of it.

  Joy. Not fear.

  Fun.

  Do what comes naturally.

  Enjoy, Rayfe had said, flashing that devastating smile.

  So I did. I thought of riding Fiona, the wind streaming through my hair, the pounding of her muscles that I knew as well as my own.

  And I was her. My great heart pumped and I took off, playing like the children, racing as fast as I could around the perimeter of the arena, my sharp hooves clattering on the stone. I returned to my spot and let myself resolve back into shape. The red dress looked only a little tattered.

  I did it.

  The pleasure of the discovery boiled through me, and I wrapped my arms around myself, throwing my head back to laugh. This was my mother’s gift. The gift of my people.

  And I knew she was proud of me.

  24

  I found my way back to the house fairly easily from this direction, still giddy with success. I’d managed to become the horse and the big cat several times. The predator’s mind still shook me a bit, but I was becoming more used to it. Perhaps tomorrow, I could take Fiona to the beach and run with her.

  My suite of rooms stood empty, as did our shared bedroom. I hesitated before the closed door leading to Rayfe’s rooms, uncertain of the protocol. Did I knock? Maybe he wasn’t even back yet. And my news would keep. In some ways, I liked keeping it to myself for a little while longer. My secret joy.

  A tray of food and wine had been left for me by some thoughtful person, so I took it out on my balcony and sat with my bare feet propped up on the balustrade and watched the last of the light fade from the sky. I had lost my slippers during one of the shifts—oops—so I was glad to have retrieved my jewelry from its safe spot. The tropical night caressed my skin and the wine was delicious. The Tala really had a point with this “enjoying life” stuff.

  “Andromeda?”


  “Out here, Garland!”

  My welcoming smile faded in the face of her grim expression. I set my feet and my wineglass down. “What’s wrong?”

  “Rayfe sent a message. Hugh’s troops have entered the valley and joined with Ursula’s. He’s riding out with a guerrilla force to stop them from reaching the entrance to the pass.”

  The blood fell out of my head and I saw him, lying in the snow, the blood radiating out in a scarlet halo, his dark-blue eyes glassy and sightless. Like a familiar aching tooth, it stabbed at me, and I let the pain in, let it fade away again.

  My private nightmare had arrived.

  While I recovered myself, I noticed the way Garland wrung her hands. She wasn’t worried for Rayfe. Garland was afraid of what I would do.

  “Why worry about the entrance to the pass? Let the barrier stop them.”

  She looked more ashen, if possible. “Part-bloods have been streaming in all day. The barrier has fallen.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We think—it could be because you’re inside and the heart hasn’t received further instructions. But it might hear you at any time, so Rayfe wants you safe here.”

  “Did he leave any particular instructions for me?” I asked, trying to sound calm, but my emotions frayed beneath it.

  “He asked that you remain here, to guard the city.”

  “Should I embroider something, perhaps? Make him a sigil to wear into glorious battle? Or maybe I should just stand on the balcony and yell at the heart to put the barrier back up.”

  “Andromeda.” Her blue eyes glinted like Rayfe’s when she became angry. “What if you went out and couldn’t get back in? All of our sacrifices would be for naught.”

  “Salena left,” I pointed out. “And you’re all still here.”

  “But Salena—”

  “She gave me a message for you.”

  That set her aback. Her face hardened. “I don’t appreciate you taking advantage of my confidences by—”