On Lonely Paths (Earth and Sky Book 2)

by Jann Rowland

  There were a number of noble men and women standing by in the room, gazing on Terrace, as though wondering what she would do. Wisteria held her hand out to a nearby servant, who placed a goblet in her hand, backing away deferentially, almost genuflecting before the woman.

  Terrace watched this scene with shock. Groundbreathers had never required such strong obeisance from their subjects. Most of those who lived in the castle were Groundbreathers themselves, descended from the same people who had originally been blessed by Terrain. Tillman’s requirements for respect had been almost perfunctory in nature, though Sequoia had always been more stringent. But even that imperious woman, who Terrace knew to be a good person at heart, had not acted the way her oldest daughter did. The girl almost seemed to think that she was Terrain himself.

  “Welcome, Aunt,” Wisteria said, her contemptuous amusement not hidden when she paused to drink deeply from the goblet that had been provided to her. “To what do I owe the honor of this unannounced visit?”

  “I am sure you understand exactly why I am here, Wisteria. I wish to know what happened to my brother, and I want to know what you have done with River.”

  Wisteria cocked her head to the side. “You were informed, were you not?”

  “I was. But I would hear it from you nonetheless.”

  Wisteria shrugged. “It is as you were told. There was an attempt to take over the castle, and my father was an unfortunate casualty.”

  “You speak of him as if he was nothing more than a Groundwalker,” Terrace spat. “He was king of our people!”

  “You had best moderate your tone,” the chamberlain said. “Your niece is to be addressed with the respect she deserves and referred to as ‘Your Majesty.’“

  “I changed her soiled linens when she was a child and swatted her bottom when she misbehaved,” Terrace snapped. “You had best mind your manners, or my niece will need a new toady to do her bidding.”

  The man stiffened at the insult, but Terrace’s glare must have been fierce enough that he knew better than to speak any further. The sullen glare he directed at her, however, informed Terrace that she had made an enemy. But she did not fear what a man who kissed her niece’s feet could do, and she turned her stony gaze back on Wisteria.

  “Well, Wisteria?” Terrace prompted. “I am waiting for your answer.”

  “I do not make light of my father’s death,” Wisteria responded. “I mourn his passing as much as anyone, but as I am the eldest and the leadership of our people must be maintained, I have put my personal feelings aside for the good of the people and so that I might act in obedience to Terrain.”

  Terrace glared at her niece. Wisteria had rarely been obedient to anyone, and Terrace had always thought her devotion to the earth god to be little more than superficial.

  “Where is River?” Terrace asked, deciding a different tack was required. “Where are Sequoia and Tierra?”

  Watching for Wisteria’s reaction as she was, Terrace was not surprised when an expression of almost insane revulsion crossed the young woman’s face. Wisteria had always hated Tierra with an antipathy so deep that Terrace suspected Wisteria would not shed a tear if Tierra fell over dead.

  “My mother disappeared in the chaos,” Wisteria replied, though her short tone indicated her patience was being exhausted. “As for River and Tierra, they are safe at present. That is all you need to know.”

  “River is my daughter, and I demand—”

  “You are in a position to demand nothing!”

  Aunt and niece glared at each other, neither giving an inch. Wisteria stared with cold eyes, her gaze almost seeming to bore through Terrace as though she were not even there. Belatedly, Terrace realized that this woman now held absolute power over the castle and its surrounding environs. These strange Iron Swords guaranteed that.

  Wisteria would not be loved by her people. She did not have the ability to inspire such loyalty. Rather, she would rule by fear and her implacable will. Judging by the atmosphere in the throne room, she had already made a start down that path.

  It was time to take greater care. Terrace could not do anything from the inside of a cell, and Wisteria would have no compunction about incarcerating her own aunt if her displeasure grew too great.

  “I am merely concerned over my daughter,” Terrace said. Her attempt at a conciliatory tone was likely an abject failure, but Terrace thought Wisteria would care more about outward respect than inner feelings.

  “I know you are concerned,” Wisteria replied, her grating attempt at a soothing tone nearly causing Terrace to grimace, “but at present, you must trust me. River will be returned to you, and I promise you she has not been harmed.”

  Terrace did not miss how Wisteria did not even attempt to mollify her concerning the fate of Tierra. “And when will that be?”

  Again, Wisteria’s composure cracked, though she controlled her tone. “That is yet to be determined. I will keep you informed of her status. At present, I believe it would be best to return to your home.”

  Though it galled Terrace to be forced to retreat in such a manner, there was nothing more to be done. “Very well. But I must insist you inform me the moment there is any news.”

  Terrace inclined her head in farewell and turned to leave, but she was arrested by the sound of Wisteria’s voice.

  “Aunt, I am afraid I must ask you to remember that my father is dead . . . and I am now the queen. My father’s reign was marred by laxness, not only in the manner in which his subjects were allowed to behave, but also in . . . other matters that he championed before his death. I have restored the order of our kingdom now. I require all my subjects to behave properly, as our god would require it. I will not hesitate to enforce my dictates. Am I understood?”

  Once again, Wisteria and Terrace stared at each other, Terrace searching for any hint of weakness. If there was any, it was well-hidden, for Wisteria’s expression was unreadable. It appeared Tillman was correct after all. He had often mentioned his concerns over the fitness of his daughter to rule when he passed away, and Terrace could see nothing before her but the realization of those fears. Wisteria was not to be trifled with, and if she were not stopped, then she had the potential to become the worst despot in the history of their people.

  “Perfectly,” Terrace replied.

  “Excellent! Then we shall see each other anon. Changes are coming, Aunt, and we must do our part to bring about our god’s designs.”

  Terrace nodded and turned to leave the room, her retinue trailing behind her. She did not understand what Wisteria meant concerning Terrain, but she feared it nonetheless. It was at times like this that she wished Heath was still with her. He had always known what to do, and he had possessed an instinctual ability to read others and determine their motivations with a single glance. Terrace missed him; she had loved and cherished him, and theirs had been a marriage of the hearts.

  But there was no point in dwelling on her loss. Terrace had to take action. First, Terrace needed to try to find Sequoia. She was the key. If Terrace could find Sequoia, then Tierra and River could be located afterward.

  But first, Terrace needed to involve Basil. As it was his fiancée who was missing, Basil had a direct interest in the matter, and Terrace would not leave him out of it.

  And so Terrace departed the castle. But it would not be for the last time. She was now convinced that Wisteria had played a part in Tillman’s demise. Terrace meant to find out what had happened to her brother. Wisteria would be held responsible, even if she had only failed to act to save him.

  Coming in 2017 from

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  Acknowledgements

  Many heartfelt thanks to the following people for their support:

  Amber Pye, Andrew Hawryluk, Andrew Rowland, Ashlee Jones, Dana Rowland, Glenna Pysz, Hilary Keahey, Jana Duren, Joy Villa, Judi Bowers, Kevin and Amber Walton, Lorrie Streeter, Mary Bishop, Mary Edwards, Matthew Rowland, Sara Collins, Shane Husdon, and Tom Fitton.

  About Lelia Eye and Jann Rowland

  Epic fantasy. High fantasy. Dragons. Dwarves. Elves. Magic. Such fantastic elements make fantasy appeal to readers all over the globe—including Lelia Eye and Jann Rowland. It was a love of the endless possibilities of fantasy that led them to imagine a trilogy revolving around two peoples, one of which loves to fly through the air, and the other of which has a strong affinity for the earth. The Earth and Sky trilogy is, above all things, a labor of love.

  Despite having written numerous books together, Rowland and Eye have never actually met. Rowland lives in Canada, and Eye lives in the United States.

  Lelia Eye was born in Harrison, Arkansas. She loves reading and misses the days when she was able to be a part of the community theater group in Harrison. Lelia became a voracious reader of all kinds of fiction in the fifth grade, and she has enjoyed writing since she won a short story contest in the sixth grade. She lives in Conway, Arkansas, with an adorable little girl, her husband, three dogs, and two cats.

  Jann Rowland is a Canadian who enjoys reading and sports, and dabbles a little in music, taking pleasure in singing and playing the piano. Though Jann did not start writing until his mid-twenties, writing has grown from a hobby to an all-consuming passion. He has always loved fantasy fiction, and is thrilled to be part of the fantasy writing community. He now lives in Alberta with his wife of more than twenty years and his three children.