by Amy Raby
Lornis came to the door, looking flustered. “What is it?”
“Sorry to interrupt,” said Rayn, “but I need your counsel. There’s a problem with my father, and I need to evacuate Four Pines because of the tremor. Councilor Worryn won’t see me, so I can’t get authorization.”
“He won’t authorize the evacuation of Four Pines?”
“I can’t even get in to see him. So, no.”
Lornis lowered his brows. “Who’s the leader here, you or him?”
“He has the official authority,” said Rayn.
Lornis gave him a look.
“The law says—”
“He wants you to look weak and ineffective,” said Lornis. “And you’re letting him do it. You’ve opposed him before, and with great success. Forget what’s official, for the moment. Who’s the leader here, you or him?”
“I am,” said Rayn.
“Exactly,” said Lornis. “Get out there and evacuate Four Pines. Who cares if you have his authorization? Show these people you are prepared to lead them.”
Rayn nodded. Lornis had the right of it, as always.
• • •
Rayn rounded up six of his fellow Fireturners. It wasn’t the whole group, but a half dozen should be enough. One of them was his cousin Tiannon, whom Rayn trusted implicitly. They wouldn’t be fighting a lava flow; they just needed to order the settlers of Four Pines to evacuate. Still, he insisted on everyone wearing their uniforms.
They assembled at the Tiasan Palace stables. Rayn mounted his blood bay stallion and took his place at the head of the group. The other Fireturners trotted in pairs behind him, dressed in their red-and-blacks.
As they entered the streets of Tiasa, civilians turned and stared. Children darted through the crowd to spread the word, and merchants came out of their shops to watch them pass. Some of them chanted: “Rayn! Rayn!”
Tiannon, who rode just behind Rayn, kicked his horse up alongside. “I think you were missed, while you were away in Kjall.”
“I’m glad they didn’t forget me,” said Rayn, sitting straighter in his saddle. Lornis was right: it was time for him to step up and lead this country. Inya hadn’t known an effective king for years now. His people were desperate for leadership. He would evacuate the settlers from Four Pines. He would protect the King’s Lands. He would open trade with Kjall.
Four Pines was well outside Tiasa. After they’d left the city streets, he urged his mount into a canter, then leaned back in the saddle and inhaled deeply. Inya bloomed year-round—not everything at once, but always something was in flower. He’d missed the sweet, heavy scent of the air. Riorca’s scent had been clean and fresh, like salad greens. But Inya’s scent was decadent, a rich dessert.
Now that they were on country roads and no longer being observed, the riders of his troop loosened their formation, and he found himself riding alongside Tiannon and Faydra, another cousin and one of the few female Fireturners.
Faydra was looking up at Mount Drav, which loomed over them, larger and more intimidating here than in Tiasa. “You think it’s going to blow?”
“You felt the tremor,” said Rayn. “What do you think?”
“Yes,” said Faydra. “The tremor was substantial.”
Rayn turned to Tiannon.
“I missed the tremor, as you did,” he said.
“Don’t leave town,” said Rayn. “I think I’ll recall all the Fireturners to the palace. If Drav blows, we don’t want any delay in rounding people up.”
Four Pines was a wild place, only recently settled. Rayn felt it should never have been settled at all—what sort of fool builds a house in the shadow of a volcano? If he became king, he would order these settlements abandoned and allow the land to revert to its wild state. As a hunting preserve, the land had value to his people. But its primary use was as a reservoir for sending lava flows, so that his Fireturners could continue to turn fires away from Tiasa.
The valley was named for four ancient Island Pines that had survived countless lava flows from Mount Drav. The valley was mostly grass and scrubby, fast-growing plants that spawned quickly after a fire. The four old trees weren’t beautiful. They were enormously tall—Rayn estimated their height at fifteen to twenty stories—and their trunks were almost entirely bare, except at the very top where each sported a crown of leaves, just high enough to be safe from the leaping flames.
Farmers had torn up the grassland and plowed it into neat rows. Some of the plots were already producing. Rayn recognized sweet potatoes, onions, and sugarcane.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered to Faydra.
“A waste,” she agreed. “It’ll all be destroyed in the next lava flow.”
“Councilor Worryn thinks we can stop the flow up on top of the mountain,” said Rayn.
She raised an eyebrow. “Has that man seen a lava flow from Mount Drav?”
Rayn suspected the councilor hadn’t. He was the type to hide away in the Tiasan Palace, leaving the dirty work to everyone else. Coward. He called his Fireturners together and assigned each of them a nearby farmhouse to visit and deliver the evacuation order.
“It’s not an official order, is it?” said Tiannon.
“It’s official,” said Rayn. “It’s coming from the prince of Inya.”
They fanned out, and each Fireturner galloped toward a farmhouse. For the next few hours, Rayn knocked on doors and informed farmers that their land was in imminent danger of a lava flow from Mount Drav, and they were to gather their belongings and leave immediately.
“For how long?” the farmers asked.
He wanted to say forever. No one had any business farming this valley or building houses on it. If Mount Drav did not erupt within the next couple of weeks, it certainly would within the next couple of years, and all of this would be destroyed. But he looked at their half-grown plants and realized they had sunk a great deal of effort and investment into these lands already. They should never have planted in this valley, but they had, and he had a feeling that at least some of them wouldn’t be heeding the evacuation order. Not until the mountain blew. He told them two weeks.
At least he’d given the order. It was more than Councilor Worryn had done.
23
Rayn’s new apartment was smaller than his old one, but aside from the stuffiness, it was comfortable. He left the balcony doors open overnight to improve the air flow and slept in just his smallclothes. It had been a while since he’d slept in a room that wasn’t sealed tight as a wine jug, and the feeling of the island breezes caressing his skin was pure bliss. If only he had Celeste to hold close while he slept, his nights would be perfect.
He woke rested, pleased about having delivered the evacuation order to the settlers in Four Pines. Councilor Worryn should never have placed those civilians’ lives at risk. Defying him hadn’t been precisely legal, but it had been the right thing to do.
After breakfast and his morning coffee, someone knocked at his door.
“Come.” Rayn threw a gauzy robe over his shoulders. The skies were overcast. They might have rain later.
Lornis stepped inside, looking annoyed. “Shunting you off to the Hibiscus Tower is an insult. Councilor Worryn is treating you like a visiting dignitary.”
“I think that’s the message he’s trying to send,” said Rayn. “He wants me to think my presence here is temporary.”
Lornis folded his arms and looked about the room, frowning. “I’ll grant that your accommodations aren’t too unpleasant. Perhaps Worryn hopes to lull you into a hibiscus-scented stupor.”
Rayn took a seat on the bed. His apartment lacked an anteroom and had only one chair, which he left for Lornis. “Hibiscus has no scent.”
Lornis glanced at the chair but declined to sit. “Frangipani, then.”
“I’ll look petty if I make a fuss about the room change,” said Rayn. “It
’s temporary. If I’m ratified next week, I’ll kick him out of the first-floor hallway.”
“And if you’re not ratified, he’ll probably remove you from the palace grounds entirely.”
“If it’s the will of the people not to ratify me, I won’t gainsay him,” said Rayn. “I’m more upset about his moving Father. The move has aggravated his paranoia. From his old room he watched the ships coming and going from the harbor, and now he’s convinced there are attack ships coming and he can’t see them.”
“It bothers me too that Worryn can be so petulantly cruel to a sick old man,” said Lornis. “But I think you’re right to wait this out. It’s only a week. Evacuating Four Pines is more important.”
“I did that last night.”
“Excellent,” said Lornis. “Without Worryn’s authority?”
“Correct.”
“This afternoon I want you to speak with the leaders of the Merchants’ Guild. They’re very influential, especially here in Tiasa, and if you can secure their support—”
A pair of guards appeared in the doorway. “Prince Rayn,” called one of them.
“Yes?” said Rayn.
“The council demands your immediate presence.”
Rayn exchanged a look with Lornis.
“They’re upset about the evacuation,” Lornis guessed. “You could refuse to see them.”
“I want to speak to Worryn,” said Rayn.
Lornis lowered his voice. “Do you think you should go alone?”
Rayn eyed the sword belted to Lornis’s hip. Perhaps it was time he belted on one of his own. “You’d better come along.”
Ten minutes later, the guards admitted them into the first-floor hallway, which had, until recently, been Rayn’s own stomping grounds. Now it was enemy territory. The unfamiliar weight of a sword tugged at his belt. Inya wasn’t a violent country, and normally he felt safe enough just with his fire magic. But given recent events, it seemed sensible to carry a weapon and to have a companion at his side.
He’d never seen so many guards here before. A pair of them stood before every door, a practice similar to what he’d seen in Kjall, though it had never been Inyan custom. Bad king, thought Rayn.
The council room was adjacent to the throne room, on the north side of the hallway. The two chambers, one home to the king and the other to the council, were connected to each other by a side door, reflecting Inya’s long tradition of shared governance.
The guards showed Rayn and Lornis into the council room.
Nine councilors sat around the outside of a U-shaped table. So that he could see all the men at once and address them easily, Rayn stepped into the opening of the “U.” He’d addressed the council on many occasions in the past and, before that, stood audience as his father addressed them. Public speaking did not frighten him, but today a prickle of unease crawled up his neck. Five of these men were his enemies. Some of them might have hired assassins to kill him on foreign soil.
The five councilors who voted in a bloc were Worryn, Burr, Chagar, Beltan, and Seph. The other four, Quar, Roth, Delard, and Aryack, operated independently; their votes were unpredictable. Within the group of independents, Rayn might have a friend or two, but since those four men were in the minority, they had little power.
“Rayn—” began Councilor Worryn.
“Prince Rayn,” corrected Lornis. “Or Your Highness.”
“He has no rank,” said Worryn. “His father abdicated the throne.”
“As the son of a king awaiting ratification, he does have rank,” said Lornis. “Look it up in the law books if you’re unclear on the matter.”
Councilor Worryn frowned. It was a subtle change. To those unfamiliar with the man, Worryn appeared to wear the same facial expression all the time—a slightly strained and disapproving look, as if he needed to visit the privy. But Rayn had, over the years, acquired the ability to read him. The man’s moods varied between only three states that he could identify: miffed, angry, and furious. One could tell the difference by observing minute changes in the architecture of his face. Worryn had just transitioned from miffed to angry.
“Nobody invited you here,” said Worryn to Lornis. “You sully this room with your presence.”
“You want to speak with me, you speak with Magister Lornis as well,” said Rayn.
Worryn turned his gaze to Rayn. “You evacuated Four Pines yesterday without authorization.”
“I tried to speak to you beforehand, but I was denied admittance to this council. Since the matter was urgent, I had no choice but to proceed on my own authority.”
“Since your father’s unfortunate abdication, I have been responsible both for Land Council business and the king’s business,” said Worryn. “I am not at your beck and call, princeling.”
“Your Highness,” corrected Lornis.
“It’s unfortunate you’re so overworked,” said Rayn. “I assure you the situation is temporary. In a week, I will relieve you of half of those responsibilities.”
Worryn’s barely visible frown deepened. Angry to furious.
“The people will decide that,” said Worryn. “I cannot imagine they will ratify a king who governs so recklessly.”
“There’s been a tremor,” said Rayn. “Mount Drav could erupt at any time, and the Fireturners need that land cleared of civilians. It would be reckless not to evacuate.”
“I have instructed you not to direct lava flows into Four Pines.”
“During an eruption, the Fireturners take instruction from no one but me,” said Rayn. “If we cannot stop the lava flow on the mountain, we will direct it into Four Pines. There is no other place to send it. Anyone occupying that valley has to leave.”
“Those settlers have farms in Four Pines,” put in Councilor Burr.
“They should never have built them.” Before any of the councilors could protest, Rayn added, “I have another matter to bring before this council.”
“We are not finished with the first,” said Worryn.
“My father is ill,” said Rayn, “and he has been moved to a room where he cannot see the harbor. Since it gives him comfort to see the harbor, I would like to relocate him—”
“All harbor-facing rooms are occupied,” said Worryn.
By whom? Rayn wondered. “After my father’s long years of service to this country—”
“Your father is mad!” cried Worryn.
“He served this country well before he became so afflicted, and it quiets him to look upon the harbor. It is cruelty to deny him this simple comfort.”
“The prince is right,” said Councilor Roth. “Why not grant the former king a harbor-facing room? It’s the least we can do.”
Rayn met Roth’s eyes in silent gratitude. He had at least one friend on the Land Council.
“We’ll put it to a vote,” said Worryn. “Those in favor of moving the former king to a harbor-facing room, declare yourselves.”
Councilors Roth, Quar, Delard, and Aryack each held up a finger. The other councilors’ arms disappeared to their sides. Rayn gritted his teeth in exasperation. This was just petty meanness on Worryn’s part.
“Opposed?” said Worryn.
The four fingers went down, and the five men of Worryn’s voting bloc raised theirs.
“Denied by vote of the Land Council,” said Worryn. “As for your illegal evacuation, as regent-in-standing while Inya is without a king, I order you to return to Four Pines and rescind the evacuation notice. If the settlers have left home, find them and tell them they’re to return.”
Rayn had wondered, before, why this issue was so important to Councilor Worryn. Now he had a theory: Worryn was setting him up. If Mount Drav erupted, and Rayn led his Fireturners to direct the lava flow into Four Pines, and people were killed because the area hadn’t been evacuated, who would be blamed for the tragedy? Not Councilor Worry
n, but Rayn and the Fireturners. Worryn was a nasty, selfish man; he was not above staging a real-life tragedy if it benefited him politically. And the people would never ratify Rayn if they believed he was responsible for civilian deaths.
“No,” said Rayn. “I will follow no order that places my people in danger.”
Councilor Worryn banged his fist on the table. “Princeling, you have no authority to make that decision!”
“Your Highness,” Lornis corrected again.
“This interview is over,” said Rayn. He gestured to Lornis and headed for the door.
24
Rayn changed clothes for his meeting with the Merchants’ Guild. Around a black silk shirt and pants he belted the gold chain his father had given him for his fifteenth birthday. For luck, he added his favorite necklace, a pendant featuring a sea green peridot as large as his thumb. The stone had been found in the volcanic ash near the base of Mount Drav—a gift from the fire spirits. He finished with soft leather boots and, as a nod to practicality, his sword belt and weapon.
The meeting was at the Merchants’ Guild headquarters, a large building in the center of Tiasa, and a short ride from the palace. Rayn met Lornis at the stables and swung up on Copperhead, his blood bay stallion. Lornis mounted the brown gelding Whiskey.
“You did well in front of the council,” said Lornis as their horses jogged down the cobbled streets of Tiasa.
“When I was a child, I was awed by Worryn,” said Rayn, “but he doesn’t scare me now. He’s a small man. Not physically; I mean in the way he sees the world.”
“Stand strong and don’t let him cow you,” said Lornis. “The man is yellow to the core. He’s only as dangerous as you allow him to be.”
Lornis spoke sense, and yet there was something about Worryn. He wasn’t frightening when confronted directly, but Rayn was a little worried about what the man might do when no one was looking. After all, assassins had tried to kill Rayn twice in the past month. He knew the Riorcan breakaway enclave was responsible, and yet he couldn’t rule out some degree of involvement by Worryn. It seemed like just the sort of sneak attack Worryn would orchestrate.