Threats of Sky and Sea

by Jennifer Ellision

  Avoiding my stare, Caden glances off into the dwindling people around us, who are more worried about their next destination than whatever it is we’re doing.

  “I apologize for my vagueness. I promise you, it’s necessary. I wouldn’t be so deliberately rude otherwise.”

  My heart is in my throat when he meets my gaze again and I look into his earnest gray eyes. The milling crowd, Tregle, and everyone else seems very far away suddenly.

  “Easy enough to forgive, Your Highness,” I say around the pulsing lump in my throat.

  He smiles, and my lips curve up to match it before he breaks our eye contact.

  “Lady Breena,” he says formally, with another bow.

  “Your Highness,” I return with a curtsy, back to pretending.

  Whenever I slip into the facade of this Lady Breena person, I’m beginning to feel like nothing but a marionette doll, lurching about on invisible strings.

  Twenty

  Later that night, after a dinner during which I was unable to swallow more than a few bites, I retire to my rooms. I fall asleep quickly enough and am dozing fitfully when a hand claps itself over my mouth.

  I come awake instantly, screaming into the palm, but the sound is muffled by my captor’s hand. It’s dark. I can’t see, I can’t catch my breath, and I’d been dreaming that Tutor Larsden was burning me alive. The blood roars in my ears as I flail wildly back at my assailant. I buck, reaching behind me to gouge my fingers into their eyes, when a voice I recognize pleads, “Please stop screaming.”

  Tregle? I still, and the hand drops from my mouth. I wipe at it with the back of my palm. “What are you doing in here?” I say furiously. My voice is a whisper and a yell meeting halfway.

  His features, barely visible in the darkness, arrange themselves into a worried expression. “His Highness sent me to fetch you. I had to wait until your lady’s maids had gone to their rooms for the evening, and I didn’t want to startle you so that you’d alert the guard.”

  “Did it ever occur to you, Tregle, that practically suffocating someone in their sleep is not the most ideal method of instilling a sense of calm in them?” Suffocating is probably stretching the truth a bit and dismay lines his features at the word, but my heart still hasn’t recovered from the fright.

  Moonlight drips into the room, lending just enough light for me to see once my eyes adjust. I process what Tregle’s said. My ladies have gone. And Caden sent him? Why?

  I start to voice the question, but he cuts me off. “We felt it would be safe to bring you into things. Given the circumstances.”

  “What ‘things?’” It seems that every time I get information, it only leads to more questions.

  “It’s easier to let him tell you.”

  I sigh in annoyance and push my covers back. It’s not that I can’t understand a certain amount of showmanship, but everyone here is entirely too willing to cling to their mystery.

  From my limited experience, I’ve learned that guards patrol the corridors of the palace constantly, so I assume that Tregle’s bribed the one outside of my door to disappear long enough for us to slip outside. He gently closes my door behind us and motions for me to follow. His movements are swift, and I wish that I’d had the forethought to at least grab a robe. If we’re caught wandering the corridors so late at night, it’ll look indecent. Particularly since I’m only in my nightdress. The nobles talk about me behind my back enough as it is.

  The halls are quiet as we leave the wing that my suite is housed in. The weight of Da’s talisman is comforting in my pocket. I no longer hear the measured steps of guards the next hallway over or even the occasional clink as one of their weapons clips a wall.

  When we’ve walked for a while in a vacant section of the palace—with me muttering and cursing when I stub my bare toe on an uneven stone—Tregle stops at a nondescript wall. He pulls a wall sconce, and the cinder blocks before us descend to reveal a spiraling staircase that leads into the depths of the palace.

  I look at him for an explanation as to where we’re going or how he’d known that was there. He reaches for a torch inside the staircase, and we step inside. “Prince Caden knows the castle almost better than the Shakers who helped build it.”

  I shadow Tregle’s back as the wall closes behind us. The staircase ends at an iron door with the simple shape of a hand where a lock should be.

  I’m struck with recognition. Hands shaking, I fish in my nightdress’s pocket for the medallion that Da gave me. The symbols are identical. Each finger on the hand depicted before me has a flame, leaf, teardrop, swirl of air, or heart. Just like Da’s medallion. One mystery solved: the smudged symbol is a heart.

  Tregle sees me staring at the dark metal on the door, and his attention snags on the object in my hand. “Where—?” He shakes his head. “Should I ask?”

  I ignore the question. “Do you know what it means?”

  “It’s meant to depict the unity of all forces: all Elementals and mankind. Only someone who knows the proper order of which finger to press can unlock the door.”

  I nod. Da must have known about this room somehow. Why else would he have given me the medallion? I wonder if he’d know what to expect inside here. I wonder if it means anything else.

  Tregle pushes each symbol, and he recites the order as if it’s a script. “First, the heart, our fellow beings before all. Then earth, for the life it holds; water and then air, which sustain it; and fire to burn it all to ruins again should the need arise.”

  I shudder. I remember the Bridge and Duchess burning to ruins, and I can’t see why anything else should need to suffer the same fate. Tregle catches my cringing, hastening to add, “Only a ritual, Lady Bree. No one here intends for the world to end in fire, I assure you.”

  He pushes the flame, and the mechanics of an internal lock click into place as he pushes the door in.

  Shouting reaches my ears almost instantly. How thick is that door? The voices cut off as we step inside, and I’m surprised to see Princess Aleta standing next to Caden. Nothing I’ve seen has betrayed such a degree of warmth between the betrothed couple that I would suppose them to be getting together for clandestine meetings.

  I quell a flicker of emotion that I won’t let myself name.

  The prince and princess are clearly in the midst of an argument. Caden’s cheeks are red, and Aleta chews the inside of her cheek as she whirls to face the doorway where Tregle and I stand.

  She glares at me. “What is she doing here?”

  “I have to say I wondered the same about you,” I say, glaring right back. I don’t need to mince words here. It’s obvious that the king has no idea what they’re up to, and the princess can’t complain about my rudeness when she’s not where she’s supposed to be either. I have no desire to keep company with her after what she said about Da. Whether it’s true or not.

  Tregle slouches next to me. The room is cylindrical but with a ceiling so low that his tower-like height necessitates the bad posture. It’s practically bare inside, with just a simple wooden table and a few mismatched, flimsy chairs, along with a haphazard stack of books.

  “Because,” Caden snaps, raking a hand through his hair so that it sticks out at odd angles. “We need her.” He rubs at his temples. “Makers deliver me from bossy princesses,” he mutters.

  “I can hear—”

  “I am aware.” He exhales heavily, trying to compose himself again. He and Aleta eye each other with annoyance.

  For my part, I’m feeling some sympathy for him—and Aleta, too, much as I’d rather not feel anything for the girl. It must be miserable to be betrothed to someone that you argue with like this.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” I say. Caden’s eyes flick to mine, and I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly more aware than ever that I’m in my nightdress. “But why, exactly, am I here?”

  “Bree, I—” He gestures to the chair. “Would you sit? Please. Sit.”

  Aleta raises a brow challengingly. My arms shoot to my sides, fists
clenched. Sit so Aleta can look down on me? I don’t think so.

  “Thank you, but I’d rather stand,” I say firmly.

  He doesn’t press the issue. Tregle slides a seat out from the table and takes it for himself. Caden’s hands leave his hair to fold behind his back.

  “Tregle told me about your meeting with Larsden.”

  His look is expectant. Is he waiting for confirmation? After a moment’s passed and he doesn’t say anything else, I nod.

  Caden paces a small area of the room. “And he wanted to test you?”

  Aleta’s suddenly paying attention. “Test you for what?” Her eyes bore into me like they’re trying to dig the answers from my mind.

  “Elemental abilities,” I say, surprised that Tregle and Caden hadn’t told her when they invited me here. “Torching, to be specific.”

  Aleta examines me closely, scrutinizing me like she’ll be able to see it if fire crawls beneath my skin. “You can’t be—can she?” She looks at Tregle entreatingly. “Adept Tregle? Can she?”

  He shrugs. “That remains to be seen, Your Highness,” he says.

  Some note in his voice makes me look between him and Aleta. They’re looking at each other fondly. The princess turned to him first, rather than her betrothed, and there’s something…tender in Tregle’s eyes.

  Oh. Comprehension washes over me. Tregle likes Aleta. Maybe even loves her. It’s obvious when I see the two of them together. Aleta is the reason that his step quickened eagerly as we’d gotten closer to the castle, all those weeks ago. I’m sure of it.

  As for Aleta, it’s hard to say where she stands. She doesn’t wear her feelings as plainly as Tregle does, but there is a degree of care etched across her features.

  “I doubt that I’m a Torcher, princess,” I say, focusing on the matter at hand. “Besides the fact that I’m not seventeen yet, there isn’t any Torcher in my bloodline.” That I know of.

  Aleta is less than convinced. What do they all know that I don’t?

  “There’s a reason the three of you have this little group,” I say. “And a reason you had me summoned here.” I address Caden. “Do I get an answer or am I going back to bed?”

  Caden sits beside Tregle and gestures to the chair. I turn my eyes on Aleta, waiting. Before long, the princess rolls her eyes, perches in a chair, and I’m satisfied enough to take my seat.

  Caden steeples his fingers below his chin, eyes on mine. I hold his gaze. I won’t break it this time. Whatever the matters are that we’re about to discuss, it feels too important.

  “It might not surprise you to learn that my father and I rarely see eye to eye,” he says softly.

  I snort. That’s putting things mildly. “I had inferred that, Caden.”

  “We cannot overthrow him,” Aleta breaks in. “Yet. He has too many allies, too many powerful ones, and nothing that we’ve done—”

  “I’m not sure we want to actually overthrow him,” Caden hastens to add. “More…keep his power in check.”

  Aleta shakes her head. “I’ve told you, it’s going to have to come to that one day. You must reconcile yourself to the idea.” She turns to me. “We’ve debated the merits of an assassin—”

  “—we have not,” Caden says. “He’s hardly my favorite person, but he’s still my father, Aleta.”

  “I said ‘debated,’ didn’t I?” she shoots back.

  “Ultimately, we felt that any assassin would be doomed to fail,” is Tregle’s quiet contribution. “Excepting Lady Katerine or—”

  Caden shakes his head sharply. “All of this is beside the point,” he says. “Which is that we strive to keep my father from seizing more power than he already has in hand.”

  I marvel at the situation. Caden plots against his own father. It’s beyond me to understand the breaking of his filial ties in such a way. No matter what Da’s done, I’m not sure that working against him is something I could ever do. Then again, I’d had a mostly happy childhood and enjoyed a healthy dose of friendship with Da. I don’t know or understand what Caden’s upbringing might have been like, but I know their relationship must be complicated. I’ve seen the kind of man the king is. He destroys homes. He tears families apart. He chases after war like a dog after its favorite bone.

  Upon further reflection, I think, contemplating Caden, if I’d been the heir to the throne of Egria, I’d like to hope that I’d have the courage to make sure the people are safe from the king.

  “If you’re against the king, I’m for it,” I say firmly.

  Aleta crosses her arms. “I’d like to state for the record that I am against bringing her into this. Will the two of you kindly think who her father is?”

  “I am already in this, Your Highness.” I inject as much venom into the title as I can. “Regardless of whether you involve me in your plans.”

  “And we are grateful for the help.” Caden says placatingly. He spreads his hands between the two of us. “Adept Tregle mentioned that you overheard his earlier conference with my father.”

  “Right,” I say, remembering what I heard as I lurked behind the tapestry. “They were saying that the Nereid navy is too strong. Too many Throwers.”

  Caden nods an affirmative. “That’s right. And we have none in Egria.”

  My brow furrows in confusion. “Surely there’s one—”

  “There isn’t.” Aleta throws her arms in the air. “If it’s going to take this long for her to grasp every little thing, I hardly think it will be worth the trouble.”

  If Aleta doesn’t stop interrupting people and treating me like a rat she’s found in her wardrobe, I’m going to throttle her. “I grasp it. No Throwers. Understood.”

  “You’ve had the advantage of growing up here, Your Highness,” Tregle says.

  “I would not call it an ‘advantage.’”

  “In the way of knowledge,” Caden says, exasperated. He looks toward the ceiling in a quest for patience. “You know how my father works. How things are here. Adept Tregle is right. You have Bree at an advantage there. Please may we move on?”

  “By all means,” Aleta says, examining her cuticles.

  Yes, halting my impulses to throttle her are growing more difficult by the minute.

  “There hasn’t been a Thrower Revealed in Egria for about sixteen years,” Caden says. “Right around the time your father disappeared. The ones who were left were older, and they’ve since passed into the arms of the Makers.”

  “And…” I prompt.

  They look at me, waiting. Some expressions are more patient than others. It clicks, and I straighten.

  “The king thinks Da knows why,” I say, filled with horror. No wonder the king is so bent on breaking down Da’s secrets. He believes he holds the key to making his army an even more formidable force. But how could Da know the answer to a freak turn of nature? How could anyone? “It must be a fluke. A strange coincidence.”

  “If it weren’t for the fact that it was Nereidium that your father last attended as an ambassador, I might agree with you. But they are the land most closely associated with Water Throwing.” A blank expression must show on my face for Caden sighs and puts a hand to his forehead. “I forget that you are not versed in the Creation Scrolls.”

  “Your poor country upbringing,” Aleta says sweetly.

  I bare my teeth at her, and Aleta jerks away. How is that for a country upbringing?

  Tregle shakes his head, but Caden seems determined to press on without acknowledging this. “Though Adepts occur with some frequency in all realms, it’s thought that certain countries have stronger ties to certain elements. I’m sure you’ve noticed the frequency with which Torchers are Revealed in Egria, for instance.”

  I hadn’t, but I nod as if I know exactly what he means.

  “Our central cities Reveal Torchers fairly often. Northern nations like Clavins have a slightly higher number of Riders. Landlocked nations seem to have more Shakers. There are several schools of thought on this.” His tone grows excited and his eyes glimm
er. “It’s actually very interesting. Those who are more scientifically-minded claim that there are atmospheric trends that dictate what a person possessing the acumen of an Adept may become and one theory specifies that—”

  Tregle clears his throat meaningfully, and Caden is shaken from his excited contemplation of science and continues.

  “Conversely, those with close ties to the service of the Makers have adopted the philosophy that these individuals are specifically born into such regions by the will of our creators. Though they’re named differently in the Creation Scrolls, historical scholars have determined what each land is called today by analyzing the details of the text.” He waves his hand. “Whatever the reason, the country with the most Throwers has always been Nereidium, which likely has something to do with the fact that they are an island nation, surrounded on all sides by water.”

  I understand all of this and even think it makes a modicum of sense, but… “How have they managed to shut the abilities of latent Throwers outside their borders down?”

  “We don’t know,” Tregle says. “But the king has grown increasingly obsessed with the idea of adding Nereidium to his empire.”

  “When he grows…impatient,” Caden says diplomatically, “I try my utmost to advise him before other influential parties have their say.” I’m sure he means Lady Kat. “And thus far, I’ve managed to convince him to contain his missions to exploratory terms rather than risk the loss of an entire fleet. He sends a ship here and there to—forgive the pun—test the waters.” Caden’s mouth twitches at the joke, and I find myself smiling back despite the gravity of the situation.

  “That’s where I was,” Tregle puts in. “Overseeing the navy exploration with Baunnid. I don’t know how they all bring themselves to get on board. They know what happens to naval vessels sent to Nereidium. But there’s something about the glory of battle to some of them.”

  “Then Baunnid…?”

  “He won’t be in the king’s service any longer.”