Both other girls were silent, and then Lisette said, “No.” She shook her head and her voice trembled. “No. We need to do what we were told to do.”
Tiana was first taken aback and then hurt. “Why are you always on Jerya’s side? Fine! You and Kiar want to go perform a stupid ceremony? Go, go ahead. I’ll just go by myself.” It was a threat and she felt stupid making it, but the hurt and the desperate desire to be out fighting, doing something, pushed the words out of her mouth.
Kiar scowled, her lips thin. “Actually, I’m on your side.” Surprise tempered the hurt until Kiar continued. “But… I also agree with Lisette. The Citadel wants us up there for a reason. They have secrets and histories there that the rest of the world has forgotten. And Vassay does want the plepanin. I think maybe Tiana shouldn’t go, though.” She was talking to Lisette now, earnest as only Kiar could be.
Lisette frowned. “Why?”
“Yeah, why?” Tiana asked.
Kiar rolled her eyes toward Tiana. “You don’t want to go, remember?” To Lisette, she said, “She’s a troublemaker. Better she makes trouble for the enemy than our allies, right? If she loses her temper up there, it could be scary.”
Lisette’s eyes were shadowed. “You’re volunteering to perform Antecession instead? While Tiana goes off—no, that’s ridiculous. What are you thinking?”
Kiar looked uncertain. “I just think we don’t both need to be there. And she’s stronger. She saved that town!” She clasped her hands behind her back, fidgeting.
Lisette said, “You’re lying about something.” She stared at Kiar, her lips white and her eyes drawn with worry.
Tiana said loudly, “It doesn’t matter if either of you approve. I said I’ll go on my own.” She curled her fingers around Jinriki’s scabbard on the blanket beside her. Unfocused anger bubbled inside her and she rose to her feet, dropping her apple.
“Go where?” Slater moved up behind her.
“Away!” she snapped. “Someplace useful. Someplace my temper won’t ruin anything.” Lisette and Kiar were both staring at her.
Slater said, “I don’t think you should do that, Your Highness.” His voice was careful and controlled, but his words infuriated her just the same.
“Why? Did Jerya tell you to say that? To try and stop me? Dammit, she isn’t the Queen! She hasn’t seen this thing!” She looked around for her horse and slung Jinriki over her shoulder.
Slater spread his hands placatingly. “No, it’s not that. But, if we let you go off by yourself, we’d be neglecting our responsibilities. No matter how powerful you are, even with that sword, there are times when you sleep. And there are too many enemies abroad for you to sleep unguarded. However, if we split the company to accompany you, that leaves Lady Lisette less defended.” He kept his voice calm and steady, like he was soothing a horse. Tiana wanted to kick him. She wanted to scream. She wanted to flee into the hills.
She settled for stomping over to the horses. The groom fled at her approach, but she ignored him and wrapped her arms around Moon’s neck.
**Your failure to protect Lisette previously caused you great concern.** Jinriki sounded almost regretful. **You should insist she accompany us.**
“Oh, shut up.” Tiana watched as Kiar stalked away from Lisette and dropped her gaze as Lisette looked at her.
Then Lisette was standing beside her. She said, “You don’t see how you’ve changed, do you.”
Tiana said, “Yes! It’s the Blight. It’s awful!”
Lisette took a deep breath. “Ceria has seen Blights before. And some of them came from within.”
Tiana sucked in her breath, staring at Lisette.
Earnestly, Lisette said, “You alone would never do that. Not if you knew. But you aren’t seeing yourself, and I can’t let that go on. For your sake. You’re getting more and more aggressive, ever since you picked up that sword. I know you’re angry. I know the sword is a burden—”
Loudly, Tiana said, “No, I’m fine.” She squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them, she softened her voice. “Thank you, for your thoughts. I’ll take them into consideration. But really, I’m fine. Let’s just keep moving.”
Princess of pretty lies. But she kept the fear buried so deep inside that she couldn’t think about it at all.
Interlude
Blighter
Shonathan was cursed to never forget, but he possessed seven shadows. One was for his father, and legacies. One was for Math and his son, and fire. One was for Pell, and the future. One was for Rinta, and the past. One was for Shanasee, and betrayal. And one was for sweet Annis, and love.
The seventh wasn’t for anyone at all. It had made itself at home among the others, many months ago. For a time, he’d thought himself very cunning to create a seventh shadow that was empty of any of his memories and required no maintenance. It was a vessel he could pour himself into when six were no longer enough. He’d tried to tell Tomas about it, but words were hard when he had six shadows. Thinking was hard.
On good days, when he didn’t need all six shadows, the seventh shadow frightened him. It moved like the others, whispered like the others, but he thought when he closed his eyes, it looked at him. It saw him. It lived.
One day, Tomas noticed the seventh shadow. Shonathan tried to explain how it was a vessel outside him, how it had eyes, how it did not ever return to the place inside him where all memories lived. He had tried to explain how it frightened him, though it shamed him to admit that. He always still felt shame. No matter how many memories he sent outside himself, the shame remained. Tomas understood. Tomas and his music, so gentle. Such a dreamer.
Tomas understood, but he could find no answers. He wanted to tell Yithiere. Yithiere always knew what might be happening, unseen. He made things safe, he understood, even though he could forget in the usual way.
After Tomas, the seventh shadow returned to him. He sent out the six, but he kept Tomas’s memory close to him, and he filled his vision with his daughters. What could he tell them? How could he save them from his own nightmare? The seventh shadow stood beside him as they played their little games, watching them with his eyes.
He kept the memory of Tomas close, and he listened. Sometimes he took the memory of Math back, or his father. Once, he took the memory of Pell back. For his daughters, he took back the memory of Annis. They brought him the mind and awareness he’d invested in them. He looked at the seventh shadow, and then he looked around him. He watched as, once again, the world fell apart.
He took almost all of them back, left only two of the true shadows outside. Two, so he could think without weeping. Two, so he could plan.
He and the seventh shadow walked together.
“I know what you are,” he told it.
“I know what you are,” it mocked him.
“You’re part of that dark place Kiar found. You are the Blight. Is it Ceria’s shadow, as you are mine?” He went to his chambers.
“You’re part of Ceria. You are the Blight. Tired, used-up, nothing left to offer,” the shadow whispered.
“I know,” he sighed. He removed the pendant from his neck and stared at it. The horror and fear he felt when he first saw the crack flooded through him again. He dropped it on a table.
The shadow whispered, “No, take it up again. Take it out into the countryside. All things must come together.”
The King’s hand closed around the pendant again. “That doesn’t really seem like a good idea,” he admitted.
“And yet, you shall. You wish to protect your daughters. It is understood.” The shadow flowed around him.
Shonathan shuddered. “I do. But what will this serve? I cannot—” Another shadow stepped out of him, and his expression grew confused.
Gently, the seventh shadow said, “You want to see the enemy’s devastation for yourself. You are the King. Who could stop you?”
“My daughters….”
“They will be safe, of course. We will take care of them as well. But that is for later.”<
br />
“Oh….” Shonathan looked even more bewildered. “Yes.” He put the pendant down again and gathered up a cloak.
The seventh shadow chided him, “Take the pendant, son of Shin.”
He frowned at the pendant. “Oh, yes. I would have forgotten.”
“Yes, but I didn’t. I never would.” The shadow’s voice was smooth and sweet.
“Oh,” said Shonathan. “You make it so easy.”
“Yes. Come now. Your people are waiting for you.”
Chapter 29
Blood Speaks Louder Than Words
It was just restlessness, Tiana told herself. She was just tired of trying to be something she wasn’t. She tried to think of the heroes. But even that failed, for wasn’t a Benjen a hero between his Blights? Math had named his son for his great-uncle, and everybody grieved for it.
She visited the phantasmagory for a while, but it was no longer comfortable there. Too empty, too eager to be populated by her own negative thoughts. Her own memories of violence drifted around her and changed for the worse. And when she went exploring, everything she found made her squirm, because she knew it had grown very recently, that those silken sheets and that tumbled statue, the charred roses and the corpses of children all came from minds she knew and loved. It was too intimate, too soon.
She remembered the strange dance between the ghostly woman and the biters, and how the woman had burned both the motes and the scenery away in one tiny flash. Done enough, that might have cleansed the phantasmagory. But it was troubling: how had a ghost done that? And had the biters really infected everything? Those weren’t questions she was prepared to think about.
She touched the copy of the Royal Pendant that rested under her cloak. The phantasmagory pendant, she supposed. The dreams were cleared away but the pendant was still cracked and she didn’t want to think about that, either.
Instead, she spoke to Lisette and Kiar gaily about court gossip, and lost the thread of the conversation as soon as she’d unspooled it, staring off into the distance hopefully, or looking at the phantasmagory before skittering away again. It was a long ride.
That evening, after they were camped, there was a thunder of hooves on the road from Lor Seleni. Slater listened and then waved his men back to their relaxations. “Just one rider.”
The black horse came around the bend, a dark rider on his back. “Cathay,” Tiana muttered, and stood up from her dinner. “What are you doing here?” she called. “Did Jerya come to her senses?”
Cathay reined his horse in and slid off. The animal was lathered from a long run. The groom came to take his lead, giving Cathay an angry look that he ignored. “I doubt it,” he said cheerfully. “Your father’s left the city, though. I’m glad I don’t have to see her face when she finds out I’m gone as well.” He gave Tiana a lazy smile.
Tiana’s thoughts scattered. “What? Where did Father go? Why are you here?”
He shrugged and stretched. “I’ve no idea where he went. Perhaps the same place you did a few days ago. He ordered some guardsmen to accompany him, had his horse saddled, and left. Has the camp dined yet? I’m starving.”
“The cook can make more.” She tilted her head, staring at him thoughtfully. “We don’t all need to celebrate Antecession. At the Citadel, I mean. It’s just a holiday, just tradition.”
Lisette, behind Tiana, interjected, “Cathay, thank you for the news, but you should go back.” Tiana barely stopped herself from saying No!
Cathay laughed. “Maybe I should, but I’m not going to. I think events at the Citadel are going to be far more to my taste than waiting for Jerya to make a decision about what to do. And Antecession in Lor Seleni won’t be any fun this year.” He gave Tiana another intimate smile, which she tried to ignore.
Lisette seemed truly angry. “This isn’t the time for games, Cathay! There’s a Blight! Jerya needs you.”
Cathay brushed past Tiana and kissed the Regent on the cheek. “Jerya has plenty of support from Seandri and Yithiere, and she knows how to find me. Don’t be jealous, Your Ladyship. It doesn’t suit you.” He looked past her, at the cook. “I’d love a plate of that, if there’s any left over.”
Tiana said, “No, we can make it work out, Lisette. He can go to the Citadel, and I’ll go deal with the fortress.”
**Good girl,** Jinriki said.
Cathay looked delighted. “That’s a lovely idea. But Kiar would be sufficient for a small Antecession ceremony, and you and I could go deal with the Blighter. We could stop the invasion from spreading.” He seemed entirely earnest.
“No!” she said, before she could stop herself. “No, that’s not what I want!” She met Kiar’s concerned gaze.
Lisette said, “Antecession is a public performance. Kiar doesn’t do those.” She gave Tiana a familiar half-smile, and for a moment Tiana’s irritation was replaced by warmth.
But Cathay’s cheerfulness flickered and then vanished. “Yes, but there is no chance I’m going to let you wander around a Blight alone. I’ve already lost enough people dear to me. It’s not going to happen again.” He nodded soberly to them, his humor gone, and went to eat some roast duck, settling himself against a tree where he could watch the camp.
Flustered, Tiana went back to her own meal on the picnic blanket with the other women. She ate absently, unable to stop herself from stealing a glance at Cathay every so often. He finished his plate and put it aside, staring off into the gathering darkness, his arms around one knee.
Kiar said, “I really can’t tell if you’re interested in him or not.”
Lisette said, “She’s not. They want different things.”
Kiar said, “Then why does she keep looking at him? Look, see?”
Tiana thought wistfully about sneaking away in the middle of the night. If only she could come up with to leave without being followed by… well, by almost everybody, she wouldn’t hesitate. “I miss the time when Cathay was just my cousin.”
Lisette patted her shoulder. “It’s good to resist him, even if he makes a dashingly tragic hero. He’ll get over you, eventually. Whether or not you give in.”
“Maybe I could trust him. Maybe he’d change. The stories are full of dashing lords with wandering eyes who are tamed by true love.” She’d seen Lisette push the hair from his eyes, laughing, and imagined doing it herself.
“They’re just stories, Tiana.” Lisette’s voice was gentle.
Kiar was less patient. “Try it, then. Better than both of you moping the entire holiday.”
Tiana turned an astonished gaze on Kiar. “You’re complaining about me moping?”
Kiar shrugged. “It’s just irritating sometimes. And it might be amusing at home, but it’ll make the Citadel awful, since neither of you will have anything else to do”
Lisette said lightly, “It has all the makings of a grand and tragic ballad, the two of them together.”
Tiana was still marveling at Kiar’s words. “You think I’m irritating and mopey?”
Kiar said impatiently, “Yes, I do. Why are you going on about it?”
Tiana shrugged with forced casualness. “It’s just astonishing to hear you describe somebody else as ‘mopey.’ You mope about everything: lessons, magic, boys.”
Kiar snapped, “I do not mope about boys!”
“You don’t even notice! That’s just— No wonder you’re not sympathetic. I should have seen it. You don’t even realize you’re moping over—”
“Tiana, do you want him to hear you?” Lisette tilted her head towards Cathay’s position. Tiana hadn’t meant Cathay, and Lisette knew that. But Lisette probably had a point to her misdirected interruption.
Kiar looked pained. “Please. There are more important things to think about than romances and theater.”
Tiana rose to her feet, her face flushed. “Like a Blight? Like this stupid celebration? Let’s hurry up and wait some more. You do too much thinking, too much waiting, and not enough action! Look what happened with the plague!”
Kiar
looked up at Tiana. “Yes, you and that fiend created a monster. And who knows what it’ll….” She trailed off, looking past Tiana into the twilight sky. “Oh, Holy Mother.”
Tiana looked up. There was a charcoal smudge against the deep cobalt dusk. She squinted and realized it was moving. It was an enormous winged creature, bigger than any bird had any right to be. Nothing that big should fly. It dropped closer and the sky showed through a strange slit in each of the massive, scalloped wings. It drifted like a kite, or a bird of prey, but it was something far more alien.
Lisette whispered, “Do you think it’s one of them?”
Kiar said breathlessly, “In the Catalog, that’s a dragon.”
Tiana was filled by a wild, violent joy. She unleashed an emanation to billow around her and hoist her up, stretching her hands up towards the enemy above.
Jinriki whispered, **Yes. More.**
Then Kiar had her arms wrapped around Tiana’s legs, and she was pulling Tiana away from the sky, twisting against the emanation. Tiana squirmed and wriggled. “Hey, get off!” She let Jinriki’s strength take her higher despite Kiar’s assault. “You’ll fall.”
Kiar grunted as Tiana’s knee hit her chin and gasped, “Lisette, the sword….” A moment later there was a sharp tug and a twist from behind, and more weight. Then something snapped, and the weight fell away.
“Kiar, get off,” snapped Tiana. “It’s right there. We can take it. We have to protect—” She reached over her shoulder, but Jinriki was gone, though the baldric remained. She pushed part of her emanation downward, twisting around Kiar like a maelstrom, until the other girl let go and fell a couple feet to the ground. Then she turned.
Lisette was behind her, sitting awkwardly on the ground where she’d fallen, the scabbard in her hands. “Tiana, come down.”
Tiana was bemused. “I’m just going to go deal with that creature. Why did you take Jinriki?” She paused in her upward drifting.
Kiar said, “Tiana, this is not you! You’re not normally this stupid!”
Citadel of the Sky (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 1) Page 26