by Emma Hamm
Long tables lined the great hall. Another thing he didn’t recognize. He didn’t really care what they did with the decor when they had been incapable of protecting the one person who mattered.
At least to him.
There were two people at the end of the hall, both hunched together and talking quietly. Raheem barreled toward them. Whatever conversation they were having could wait. Nothing was more important in this moment.
One of the people lifted their head. Dark eyes widened, her face like shadows, and Raheem immediately focused on her, as she was the only one who would likely give him a straight answer.
“Camilla!” he thundered.
She flinched. “Raheem, you’re back early.”
“No earlier than expected. And I return to hear the news that our queen is dead?” Rage heated his cheeks, his heart pounding in his chest.
How dare they? How could they let someone like her die? They had spent so much time getting her to this point where they were. She was the one who had managed to bond them together. She was the one who had created a kingdom with her words alone.
What had they done?
He lifted a hand and viciously jabbed a finger at Camilla. “This is your fault.”
“Raheem—”
“No, don’t speak. Not right now. There’s something I have to say, and I’m going to get it out without you interrupting.”
“You’re going to regret any words you say in anger, so I have to ask you to stop.” She hesitated for a moment, then stepped up to him and lifted her own hand. Carefully, she closed his fingers into a fist and held it within her own. “We’re all angry right now, Raheem. I understand how you’re feeling.”
His breath caught in his chest. Even though she’d lost someone important, she still stood strong. How was that possible?
Looking at her, he saw the strength of all women wrapped up inside her being. She was handling the loss of her sister, her best friend, just like any minor grief. Her eyes reflected a deep sadness that made him want to weep, and yet she stood in front of him strong and capable.
Would he ever understand how women were capable of that? He only knew that she was something out of the storybooks already. She handled herself with such grace and poise she might have been a goddess if he looked hard enough.
Anger crumbling along with his resolve, Raheem’s shoulders curved forward. “You’re right in that. I shouldn’t speak in anger.”
The person standing beside Camilla cleared his throat. Immediately, Raheem stiffened again. He hadn’t realized it was Jabbar who stood with them, and that made him all the more uncomfortable.
He didn’t trust the albino Beastkin with even a second of his time. Let alone the feelings Raheem usually hid from all the people that he possibly could. Something about the Beastkin made him nervous, and it wasn’t his looks or the fact that he could change into a thunderbird at will.
There was something deep inside Jabbar that was wrong. A broken piece that wanted to see people and creatures bleeding on the ground before him. Raheem had seen such emotions in soldiers before, but only after a long war. Men had a way of becoming addicted to violence and pain.
Raheem had never seen it in a Beastkin before. Usually, they were a kind folk who simply wanted to live on their own without humans making decisions for them.
But Jabbar? This man wanted to feel human bones crunching under his feet.
Jabbar cleared his throat again. “Raheem. We weren’t expecting you back any time soon.”
“My travels took me far.” He narrowed his gaze. “Too far, it seems.”
“There was nothing you could have done to save her. She was far from all our sights, and a rogue assassin from Bymere killed her with an arrow.”
The scene flashed in front of Raheem’s eyes and he clenched his jaw. An arrow? That was a hard way to go, and one that he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. Hesitantly, he asked Camilla quietly, “Was it quick?”
“Almost instant,” she replied.
He blew out a breath. “Then at least she didn’t suffer.”
If he had been a different man, he might not have noticed the way her eyes darted to the side when he said the words. Raheem had spent much of his life on the battlefield and in conferences among nobles. He knew the ways people tried to hide secrets when they thought no one could see into their minds.
There were tricks to reading a person. Watch their eyes for the truth, their hands for lies, and Camilla was easier to read than a book.
Weren’t all the Beastkin though? They wore their emotions on their sleeves other than Sigrid. She was impossible to even guess at what was going on behind those icy eyes.
Raheem schooled his features into a smooth lake of nothingness. “Jabbar, I would like to mourn my friend with those who appreciated her being here.”
“You don’t want to investigate who killed her?” The other man asked, his voice incredulous. “I find that hard to believe, Protector of the Sultana.”
The title was as ancient as the Beastkin themselves. It had come from a history long forgotten in the Bymerian lines, although he wasn’t surprised the Beastkin man knew about it. Once, the Sultana always had a single guard who was with her from the moment she became a royal. He protected her against all odds, tasted her food before she ate, stood at her side in front of a crowd who might grow angry. The Protector would give his life before any weapon would ever touch her skin.
It was a dig at him, and one that was effective. Raheem sucked in a sharp breath so he didn’t flinch back in horror.
A Protector never failed to keep his charge alive. Those that didn’t were brutally killed in front of their own people. Drawn and quartered was a favorite of the crowd, and he’d heard of one who was flayed alive. Prolonged by alcohol which dulled the wounds and smelling salts that continually awakened the man.
“Enough,” Camilla scolded. “I don’t know what history you two have, or even what Protector means, but you’re upsetting him, Jabbar. I won’t have you doing that any more than necessary.”
“He knows what it means. And he knows that if he wanted to take that position on, then he failed her. He failed us all.”
Raheem watched Jabbar leave the great hall with a sinking feeling in his gut. The Beastkin was up to something, and he didn’t have it in him to figure out what. All Raheem wanted to do was find out what really happened to Sigrid, and then figure out where her grave was.
There were lilies in the forest he’d come across that she would have liked. Crystal lilies, the locals had told him. So pale a blue they were almost transparent. They looked very much like something she would enjoy.
“Raheem?” Camilla asked. “Come with me.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. He would follow her to the end of the earth if it meant he found out what had really happened.
Together, they left the great hall and began the meandering walk up to Camilla’s private quarters. He’d never been there before, though he’d seen the Beastkin woman leave dinners and make her way up the stairs.
The woman must have legs of steel if she’d made it all the way up here on her own every night. He counted nearly four hundred steps before they made it to the landing. She poked her head through the door, inhaled deeply, then gestured him through.
“Did you just smell your room?” he asked.
“I wanted to make sure we’re entirely alone. Thankfully, we are.”
“Why would someone be in your room?” He could already guess. Without Sigrid, the Beastkin factions were likely to fall apart once again. They needed one, unifying person to continually make sure they were all getting along. Sigrid had been a symbol of home for them. The loss of her must have taken a great toll.
“One can never be too careful. I have to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone else.”
What a start to the truth she was about to tell him. The sickly pain of hope made him clench his fists tight. “Please tell me this is all some elaborate ruse.”
&nbs
p; She hesitated, licked her lips, then slowly nodded. “In a way.”
Raheem reached out for the bedpost next to him, slowly sagging against it. “Thank the gods. She’s alive?”
“Well, don’t say it so loud, you dolt!” Camilla glanced around them like someone was going to peel out of the wall. “No one can know except us. I thought you got her letter?”
“What letter?”
As he watched her eyes widen in surprise, and perhaps a little horror, Raheem realized something had gone very, very wrong.
“What was the original plan?” he asked. “Tell me everything, in detail.”
Camilla, gods bless her soul, didn’t hesitate. She spat out the words faster than most people could have understood. Every detail was stripped clean, and she only paused when he interrupted her to ask a clarifying question. There was so much more that he wanted to know. Why had she left when there wasn’t any real reason to? Why hadn’t Camilla tried to convince her that the Beastkin just needed a little time? They had to learn how to be both human and animal. There were bound to be hiccups in this journey.
Camilla heaved a sigh when she completed her story. They’d ended up clasping each other’s hands, she on her own bed, he in a chair he’d dragged closer to her.
“That was a very brave thing for you to do,” he said, squeezing her fingers in his. “It mustn’t have been easy.”
“It shouldn’t have been so hard. But I felt as though I were going against the gods will, for a sister who might not—” she choked up and stopped talking.
“You’ve been remarkably capable, my dear. Now, you can rest easy knowing someone else carries the burden with you. I’m sorry you’ve been alone all this time.”
“Thank you.” The words were almost explosive coming out of her mouth. They rocked her entire body forward as she curled in on herself, pulling his hands closer to her heart. “I didn’t think anyone would understand. I’ve been so tired, so very tired and scared.”
He’d never been able to stand a woman’s heart breaking in front of him. Raheem stood, gathered Camilla against his chest, and leaned back against one of the bedposts.
He rocked her while she cried and marveled at how young some of these people were. Even Sigrid with her stalwart attitude and icy eyes was still just a child in the grand scheme of things. None of them had loved as he had. None of them had lost as he had.
His greatest fear was that they would all lose someone very dear to them, very soon. War had a way of doing that to families and friends, and this was only the beginning.
Camilla leaned back slightly, sniffing. “Did you find what you were looking for in Wildewyn?”
More than he wanted really. Raheem hadn’t expected to fall in love with the place while he searched for the locals’ opinions on Beastkin. The land here was beautiful, the people kind, and he couldn't for the life of him understand why there was a war between the two kingdoms.
“I did,” he said. “The people are not afraid of you. Most don’t even know you exist.”
Raheem had been surprised by the realization that most of the Earthen folk were completely oblivious to what their royals were doing. They stayed in their little villages on the edges of society, living lives that were… well, quaint.
The first person he’d come upon didn’t care at all that Raheem looked different from them. The man had laughed at his accent, commented that it was difficult to understand him, and blushed because he felt it rude that he couldn’t understand what Raheem was saying.
The man had then taken Raheem back to meet his wife and daughter, speaking in another language. His daughter had known more of the common tongue, her voice sparkling with laughter as she explained her father hadn’t ever left the farm before. It was his father’s, and his father’s before that, so long a lineage on the same land that no one had ever felt the need to leave it.
This was mostly the same reaction he’d had throughout all of his travels. The Earthen folk who weren’t really connected to the kingdom, but only to the land itself, were the ones who were much kinder than their leaders
War was something that had never touched them before. They couldn’t remember the last time someone had gotten into a fight, other than the butcher’s boy. But that child was always picking fights with whomever he could.
In time, Raheem realized there was a severe disconnect between the leaders of this country and their people. It was almost as if two castes lived in this kingdom. The people with money and royal blood, and those that didn’t.
He explained all this to Camilla quickly, hoping it would distract her from the dark thoughts that likely still plagued her.
When he was finished, Camilla nodded. “That’s how it’s always been, but I’m glad to know they still don’t think we’re real. That will make things easier in the long run.”
“How so?”
“If they don’t know we exist, then they won’t ever have to see us. We’re content to be alone here.”
The mere idea made Raheem’s head hurt. “But that’s not creating a kingdom? Don’t you see that? The whole point of unifying the two kingdoms of Beastkin was to create a third kingdom where those who were different could be accepted. Interacting with other kingdoms is crucial to that goal.”
She moved away from him then, wrapping an arm around her belly and looking decidedly disturbed. “That’s not what Jabbar thinks. If we’re isolated, then no one can hurt us.”
“And since when has Jabbar been right?” Raheem reached out for her hand and tugged on it, forcing her to look at him again. “The Earthen King relinquished his hold on this land only because he thought you would make a kingdom out of it. If you don’t become a prosperous neighbor, I would bet my firstborn that he’ll take this gift back. There’s no other option.”
Her gaze became haunted with a weight she hadn’t yet explained. Camilla slowly stood from the bed, moving a hand to her back like an old woman, and then walked to the window overlooking the keep. “Sigrid left me in charge, and I’m not sure she knew what she was doing.”
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t feel strong enough to control them without her. Sigrid was...” she paused. “Larger than life.”
“Don’t say it like she’s gone. You said yourself, she’s still alive out there somewhere.”
The sun outlined Camilla until she was nothing more than a dark silhouette standing before the window. A beautiful, strong woman, although she might not see it herself. He had half a mind to shake her for the loss of that vision. He believed in her. Hell, most of the other Beastkin believed in her. But she had to believe in herself for this to work.
Raheem stood as well, stepping beside her and clutching his hands behind his back. “She put you in charge, because she knew you could do it,” he said. “I know you can as well. I have no question at all that you will bring this kingdom into a prosperity that no one else could have dreamed to be possible.”
“Not without her.”
“I think you’ll do better without her. You aren’t afraid to be alone, you know. You’re afraid of your own potential. Limitless and vast, the world you could create now overwhelms you.” Raheem cleared his throat, horribly uncomfortable that he was the one saying this. It should have been Sigrid, but she’d never been particularly good at the emotional aspects of life. “Once you figure out your vision, I think you’ll be much less afraid.”
She didn’t reply. Instead, she stared down at the Beastkin brothers and sisters who had given her so much in this life. He understood her connection to them. It was very much the same connection he had with Nadir.
Raheem cleared his throat again, unhooked his fingers, and placed his hands on his hips. “I should be going.”
“Where are you going now?”
He strode from her side and back toward the blasted stairs that would hurt his knees. “To find her, of course.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not?” He paused to look back at her.
“Sigr
id needs to do this alone. If the ancients want her to find them, then she’s already within their grasp. You wouldn’t have a chance to even find her. They’ll leave you out on the mountain peaks as a warning to all others who seek their hidden homes without permission.”
“I thought you said the ancients weren’t real?” he muttered, a cold chill dancing down his spine.
“I always thought they were myths, just stories that my mother told us to calm us down.” The haunted look returned to her eyes. “But now, I’m not so sure. I think you should go back to Bymere, as quickly as possible. Change is coming, and Nadir is going to need your guidance more than ever.”
“Why do you say that?”
She shook her head. “Something’s coming, Raheem. We can all feel it in our bones. It’s not the humans in us who are afraid. The beasts are restless.”
He felt the blood drain from his face, nodded once, and then made his way down the long stairs. He’d return to Bymere before madness descended upon the ranks of the Beastkin.
10
Nadir
Slumped on the throne, he stared at the long line of people waiting to be heard by the sultan. How many times had he done this in the recent months? This wasn’t what he thought a sultan should do.
In answer to that, how many times had he told his advisors that he didn’t want to do this anymore? A hundred? A thousand? This was one thing they refused to budge on, saying it was the most important part of building trust around him.
The people were still timid around their new dragon king. The man in front of him was gritting his teeth so hard Nadir was certain he’d hear a crack soon. His wife was quaking as she stood next to him.
“What is your complaint?” Nadir asked.
“My wife, sir. The child she birthed is clearly not mine.” He nudged his wife hard, shoving at her shoulder until she opened her arms and revealed a small, dark child in her grip. It clearly wasn’t the man’s child. He was fairer than most of the Bymerians, but what did that matter?