Remnants: Season of Fire

by Lisa Tawn Bergren

  A toilet that flushed and paper beside it. A sink and shower with hot running water that never seemed to come to an end. Soft, scented soaps. Thick, luxurious towels. Lotions and oils. Combs and brushes. And a full-length mirror. I was embarrassed by how long I stood in front of it, probing and examining my body — ​both the wounds that were healing and my skin and curves. Never had I seen my whole body from my hair to my toes. And in such clarity.

  Even with the cuts at my eye and lip that were still an angry red, I figured I was pleasing to look at. At least Ronan would think so …

  A knock sounded at my bedroom door, and I turned away from the mirror in confusion. No one had come to see me in days. Hurriedly, I slipped on my undergarments, then the satiny sheath of the gown, and finally the outer gown. I went out to the main room and to the door, pausing when someone knocked again.

  “Andriana? May I come in?”

  It was Keallach.

  Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob, and with some surprise, felt no resistance of a lock.

  He smiled, but it quickly disappeared as he stepped across the threshold and waved back two guards who seemed intent on coming with him. His hand lifted to my face and his eyes darkened. “What … Who did this to you?”

  “Sethos,” I spat out, silently cursing myself for being glad — ​glad — ​to see him. He wasn’t my friend. We were connected, bonded in a way, but I had to remember — ​

  His frown deepened. “Sethos? No. He wouldn’t … He knows …” His lips clamped shut and he seemed to gather himself. “How? When?”

  “More than a week ago,” I said. “When I was brought here. Where have you been, Keallach?”

  “I’m sorry for that,” he said, giving me a rueful look. “I had to see to an urgent matter in the southern region of —”

  Another knock sounded at the door.

  “Come,” Keallach called. He was dressed in Pacifican ivory, in a billowing shirt that hung loose at his collar, revealing toned muscle and smooth skin, golden from time beneath the seaside sun. I looked away as servants carried in two chairs and set them beside the gold table. Another brought a tray of tea, and another tiny sandwiches stacked on a triple-layered china plate, each one smaller than the next.

  When they left, Keallach stood beside one chair and gestured to the other. “Andriana. Let us sit and discuss what has happened and what shall happen next.”

  I searched him, trying to read his emotions. All I got was hope. How could I argue with that? Didn’t I myself hope that by some miracle he’d allow me to leave? And maybe even come with me?

  Tentatively, I went to the other chair and perched on its edge. I made myself put my hands down, feigning relaxation when every nerve in my body was on alert. He sat down and leaned in the corner of the huge high-backed chair, lazily crossing one boot over his other knee. His breeches were soft, brushed leather, tawny gold. I resisted the ridiculous urge to reach out and touch them.

  His eyes followed mine. “Aren’t they marvelous? The fabric comes from a leather factory on the eastern edge of Pacifica. They’re experimenting with various colors. I’m so weary of the whites of Pacifica,” he added, fluffing his shirt. “I think I’ll decree a change of royal dress. Soon the empire will be full of clothes in all sorts of colors. We’ve just reestablished trade with those across the Great Sea who can bring us amazing indigo and purple and green.”

  I tried to summon polite pleasure to mirror his, but my mind and heart were screaming about a hundred other more important things … one, in particular.

  “Keallach, why have you brought me here?” I asked. “Am I your guest or your prisoner?”

  His smile faded and he looked into my eyes. Then he leaned forward and took my hand. Although everything within me wanted to resist his touch, I allowed it. If I was to find out anything, he had to think I was open to him, that I was willing to give him a chance. And if we were touching, I might find it easier to read him. His skin was warm, and he put his other hand over mine.

  “Go ahead,” he said, nodding a little. “Use your gift. I shall be open to you for a moment.”

  “I can’t. Sethos —”

  “Sethos has not created any barrier that I can’t supersede,” he said. “By choice, I can take down the wall between us. And Andriana, I don’t want any wall to remain between us. I brought you here so that you could know the truth about me and my country. No secrets.”

  I hesitated, feeling a blush rise at my jaw at this sense of intimacy, this understanding, then gave in to it. Again, I felt nothing but hope in him. Intense hope. And joy.

  “Do you sense anything in me that makes you fearful?”

  I shook my head.

  “Having you here,” he said tenderly, reaching up as if to touch my face and then thinking twice, “has given me the first measure of hope I’ve felt in some time. I mean, it’s the first I’ve felt of the Maker’s presence since …” The grief rose up in him then, in memory. He shook his head. “Well, for a good while.” He concentrated again on my face. “Those responsible for your wounds … shall face consequences.” I felt a flicker of rage in him, darkness yawning, but then it was gone so quickly it stole my breath. Alarmed, I pulled my hand away.

  I leaned forward to pour myself tea and then another cup for him. He took it from me with a small smile, as if he were thinking he could get used to such niceties. Suddenly I wanted to slam the cup into his face, my own anger rising now. He was ultimately responsible. For my capture. For leaving me here alone, with Sethos. For my injuries. But I had to find my way, my time. I had to think, not give in to feeling.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Andriana.”

  He said it as if I’d finally answered an invitation.

  “There is so much I want to show you in Pacifica. So many things you and the Ailith have … misunderstood. While we’ve been apart, I’ve been doing some research. And I’ve figured out how things have gotten skewed out there, in the Trading Union. Lies passed on from one to the other.”

  “Skewed,” I repeated flatly. “Or lies. Which one?”

  “Well,” he said, popping a bite of sandwich in his mouth. “I do not know if it began as malicious intent to slander my reign, or if it was an innocent misunderstanding, but you can help me make it right.”

  I studied him. “Do you have an example?”

  He nodded, clamping his lips together solemnly. “Take, for instance, your accusations about children being kidnapped at Georgii Post.”

  “Something,” I said slowly, “I saw with my own eyes.”

  “Right,” he returned carefully, one hand outstretched, palm up. “Eat a bit and then I’d like to take you to see a couple of places that will give you … context.”

  I paused. He was offering to take me out? Out of the palace? If nothing else, it would be good for me to know a route of escape, if I ever got past the cursed locked door …

  “Yes,” I said with a nod. I hurriedly stuffed a sandwich in my mouth and grabbed three more. “Shall we?” I asked, still chewing as I moved to my feet.

  His dark, sculpted brows rose in wry entertainment over my haste, but seeing my lack of humor, he quickly stood behind me. “We shall,” he said.

  CHAPTER

  20

  ANDRIANA

  We walked out of my room as if it were never locked, as if I’d dreamed the whole thing. The guards outside stood relaxed, their swords sheathed and sidearms holstered. Keallach offered me his arm again. I tentatively took it, feeling at odds but wanting any anchor I could find. He smiled a little, and I felt the pleasure of the small victory surge through him, but I still couldn’t summon the courage to release him. I even gripped tighter as my arm cuff began to turn cool when we neared what appeared to be the main hall of the palace.

  The Six lounged about on luxurious chairs before a crackling fireplace that was taller than I. They looked up as we entered the room and appeared only pleasantly surprised at my presence. Keallach placed his warm hand over mine, but kept his eyes
on the group. “Gentlemen, I think I’ll take Andriana for a little drive. Show her a bit of Pacifica. True Pacifica, not the dark legends that have permeated the greater Union.”

  The men, as one, returned their gazes to me, looking intrigued and entertained. I reached out, searching for warning signs of anger and malice, but for each of the Six, Sethos’s wall remained firmly up. No doubt I’d made no friends the night we’d attacked Lord Maximillian Jala and escaped Castle Vega, making them all look like fools. And Lord Fenris … well, the word hate probably didn’t begin to cover what he was feeling toward me. I’d taken him down in front of all the rest of the Council. But it was Lord Fenris who rose first and came to us, extending a hand until I allowed him to take mine. He promptly bowed and kissed it, his lips soft and featherlight on my bruised and scabbed knuckles. He didn’t release it as he rose, holding it instead, between both of his. “May you find the truth, Andriana. As the emperor will show you, I believe we started out on the wrong foot, but we’ll soon find our way in the dance of friendship.”

  “I have reason to doubt that,” I said.

  His own smile grew, then he threw his head back and laughed, the others with him. As if I’d just said the funniest thing. He dropped my hand and put his fists on his hips, staring at Keallach. “You’re quite sure, Highness? That you can convince her of our merits?”

  “Quite,” Keallach said, with a nod, already leading me away. “Give me some time.”

  The massive doors in the front of the palace were opened by doormen, and it was with some relief that I felt them close behind us. Keallach was enough for me to handle and sort through, without the rest of the Council or Sethos about. I blinked against the bright afternoon light and rubbed my arms against the chill. Even here in Pacifica, where the sun shone far longer and more often, the change of seasons clearly approached.

  “Forgive me,” Keallach said, grimacing. He snapped his fingers and sent a servant off to fetch a “wrap” while another opened a car door.

  I paused beside the car and then looked guiltily back to the palace. I was out here enjoying such luxuries while the Ailith were somewhere in the wilderness, likely trying to find food, shelter. And yet if I didn’t find out all I could, discover a possible escape route, as well as try to establish a true bond with Keallach, was I not wasting time?

  “We’ll return here?” I asked Keallach. “By nightfall?”

  He nodded, once, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and a bit of gratification in his heart, as if he hoped I liked the palace so much that I wanted to return to it at my earliest opportunity.

  I sighed and slipped inside the vehicle, my nostrils filling with the scent of new leather. I pushed to the far side of the wide seat, making room for Keallach. He followed me in, and after a moment the servant returned and pressed a soft white bundle inside the car. It was a fur — ​or rather countless white furs — ​stitched into a blanket. Keallach absently handed it to me as he leaned forward to respond to the driver’s question.

  I rubbed the impossibly soft blanket, hugging it to my chest while I watched Keallach interact with the driver. He was kind, polite, not at all the lordly tyrant I imagined he might be. Or was it all an act? All I could detect was respect, joy, and anticipation.

  The car pulled out and I stared outside, amazed at the sprawling green lawns, the leafy trees laden with fruit, and the bushes covered in flowers, even this close to Hoarfrost. My eyes could not seem to get enough of the color, the vivid color all around me. “Is all of Pacifica this beautiful?” I asked.

  “Most of it,” he said, taking the blanket and shaking it out, then gently spreading it across my lap. “There are parts of it that are quite dull, nothing but vast acreage of sand and cacti.” He sat back and looked out his own window, a finger across his lips. “But yes, most of it is like this. Why? Is it so different from your Valley?”

  “I suspect you know what my Valley looks like.”

  He stared back into my eyes and lifted his brows. “Honestly, I’ve seen pictures, but I’ve never been there myself. It’s never quite the same … Don’t you agree?”

  “Pictures?” I said. “You mean drawings?”

  He quirked a small smile and then shook his head. “No. Pictures.” He pulled a device from his pocket and pressed a button, then two more, then handed the device to me. I gasped. Because what he showed me was a picture — ​in full color — ​of my own beloved woods. He ran a finger across and the first image went away, leaving a new one of a mountain peak I knew well. After another swipe, there was a thick fog over a pond where my father had loved to fish.

  “Pictures,” Keallach said with a nod. He flicked off the device and tucked it back into his coat pocket. “I take it you don’t have a device like it back in the Valley?”

  “No, we don’t,” I said in a low tone, thinking of the drone birds and how the Aravanders thought they took pictures. Of how much Tonna might pay for such a thing back at Nem Post. “It’s marvelous. Does everyone in Pacifica have one?”

  “No, but I see a day when everyone will,” he said, with confidence. “Pacifica is on the rise, Andriana. Wealthier by the day.”

  “As the Trading Union becomes poorer,” I said. I shifted uneasily beneath my fur blanket, which was probably worth more than I could ever pay.

  “We are not using the Trading Union, Andriana,” he said, frowning a little. “We are gradually equipping her to become a part of us. After the War …” He paused and glanced out his car window. “There is no way to change things quickly. It has to be a gradual transition. But this road we’re on, toward unification, is good.”

  I stared at him, searching him, and he allowed it, lifting his hands.

  “Go ahead. As I said — ​I am an open book to you.” He was guileless, hopeful, excited. “Don’t you see?” he said, leaning toward me, green-blue eyes intent on mine. “Don’t you see how this could all be the Maker’s way? For us both?”

  “The Maker’s way is one of freedom.” I stared back at him for several seconds. “So may I leave Pacifica any time I wish?”

  His enthusiasm faded and I sensed guilt in him before a wall went up between us.

  “I thought you were an open book.”

  “For certain chapters. One day at a time, Andriana.”

  “When will you release me?”

  “Not until you give me the chance to show my side of this story. ‘A fair shake,’ as they used to say. I want you to know for certain that I am your true Remnant brother, not your forsaken enemy. Then I might allow you to leave me.”

  I considered him, wondering if that was all he truly sought. Troublesome words from the Six came back to me. “Brother I can tolerate,” I said, deciding to test him. “Husband is not something I’m ready to say.”

  He quirked a smile, and the chill disappeared. “Frankly, as lovely as you are, Andriana, I’m not quite ready to call anyone wife.”

  I sat back, breathing a little easier after hearing him say it. And yet he’d not specifically said it wasn’t a possibility. I returned to staring outside, glimpsing the wide blue arc of the sea from time to time. “Have you been swimming in it?”

  He followed my gaze. “In the ocean? Sure. Every day as a child. Less now. Imperial business doesn’t allow for a lot of swimming.” I struggled to not smile with him.

  “Remnant business kept us swimming at home.”

  “Lots of training, I assume,” he said lightly. “I could see it in your dive in that river and how long you stayed under.”

  “Lots. For you too?”

  “Every day, classes in the morning and warfare in the afternoon.”

  “What’s your weapon?” I asked carefully, after a moment. I couldn’t remember him drawing a sword in Wadi Qelt, only watching us.

  “I’m most adept with an iron-tipped staff, but I do well with swords too.”

  I nodded and then resumed my watch out the window. I remembered Sethos, with his double-tipped sword. Had he trained Keallach to use his?


  After a few minutes, we pulled up to a massive building that looked hundreds of years old. “Pre-War?” I asked in surprise. As I’d understood it, almost everything in this region had been leveled by the bombs.

  He got out of the car and stared up at the façade proudly. “It was nothing but rubble in a ravaged town. I had my people put it back together, brick by brick.” He came around the car and put a light hand at my lower back, leading me forward. “I partially favor old things, old ways. In a new country, it helps to remember the things that were good once, the things we want to recreate now. It’s definitely not in fashion here, but I try to incorporate some of the old, now and again. It brings me … comfort.”

  I nodded. A glance left or right down the street affirmed his words. Most of the buildings showcased flat, barely angled roofs and wide windows, clean and simple. But this building flaunted concrete ornaments in fanciful curves. Everything about it led the eye upward, and there was a sense of lightness that counterbalanced the heavy building materials.

  We walked up the stairs and he opened a glass door with a long, brass handle, gesturing for me to go before him. He wasn’t even through the door before a man and woman were coming around a desk to greet him.

  “Highness, welcome, welcome! We didn’t expect you here today,” said the woman, lifting a hand to her cheek as if she might faint from the surprise.

  “Yes, well,” he said, “I like to see how the facilities are doing when my people don’t have time to prepare. I’m sure my guest here, Miss Andriana, would like to see the same,” he said pointedly.