“And what good did it do on that journey His Majesty just mentioned?” a Sapient asked. “You found nothing to report in Basten, Grimdi, except for hysterical rumors.”
“It was never determined what the lights were that those families saw in the trees,” Grimdi said stiffly.
“Exactly!” Rellum exclaimed. “That is my point!”
“I meant that there was no rational explanation!” the bearded Theurgist insisted. “It must’ve been the Anthrane!”
“No explanation except for bioluminescence!” a Sapient called out. “You conveniently ignored it!”
“You fool! You’d call the very ghost of your mother bioluminescence!” another Theurgist snapped.
“Well, it would be!” the Sapient retorted, and a few others laughed.
The king cleared his throat loudly. In a few moments, the room was quiet again.
“Your Majesty, I would just like to remind everyone,” Helid said pompously, “that the head schoolteacher in Bellash saw those lights as well, and he is a well-respected man in the town.”
“That’s still hearsay,” Rellum spoke up. “Even Sir Reese’s testimony is hearsay. I saw none of it!”
Reese cast a dark look at the Sapient whose life he had saved.
The king frowned too. “Sir Reese, although young, has been a faithful Lash Knight for three years. His account is not to be taken lightly.”
“And he has cloth from the Ithin’s hood!” a Theurgist shouted. There were angry mutters from the Sapients at this.
“That could be from anything!”
Emeline sighed tightly and looked at Dada, who was watching the council in dismay.
“Yes, yes,” the king said, sounding exhausted. “There is no denying that in all this time, there has been no indisputable evidence that the Dark Creatures exist. Or magic, for that matter. Yet the stories and sightings are so persistent they cannot be ignored.” He grimaced. “I will admit that I was facetious before, however, as Doctor Nallor’s tonics certainly do nothing. As is the case with all ‘magical’ cures I have seen.”
“Your Majesty, you put your life in danger when you saw that man,” Rellum declared.
“My dear Rellum Sapient, my life is constantly in danger,” King Olvinde told him drily. “In point of fact, it is a very large part of being king.” The Sapient flushed red.
At that moment, King Olvinde broke into another fit of coughing. He waved his attendants away angrily, as if determined to get through this council session.
“But as we are in the midst…of investigating the crime against Rellum Sapient,” he wheezed, “I am of a mind to hold off on sending anyone anywhere….” He shuddered, leaning back in his great chair, and whispered, “At least…for the present.”
The Theurgists were crestfallen, the Sapients smug. Emeline’s hopes plummeted. With one short argument, they had already wiped out all possibility of protection for Equane. How long could her little village be left undefended at the shoulder of the forest?
That languid shadow lurking between the trees…the hiss!
She watched the ailing king as he struggled to breathe, and a sudden, terrible thought reached her: If he died, and Rellum became king, there would be no help for Equane ever. Ever. No matter what the Ithin did.
King Olvinde rode the line between the factions, holding both Sapients and Theurgists at bay. Without him, that medium would be lost. What would become of the kingdom then?
“Sir Reese!” Emeline blurted, startling everyone. She only just remembered to include his title.
Dada put a hand on her arm in alarm, but she did not heed it. Not now. Reese gave her an expectant look, calm and steady, knowing exactly what she was going to say.
“I want to show them.” She kept her eyes intently on him.
Reese nodded and turned to address the king, who was frowning indignantly. “Your Majesty, there is something you should see.”
Then he raised a hand to Innish at the back of the room, just as Emeline heard Dada mutter, “Em, no!”
rapped on the doors to the council room and they slowly opened. Emeline stood up slowly, shaking off Dada’s hand. She was afraid to look at him, afraid to look at Dale or any of the others.
“What is this interruption?” the king asked, coughing again. The council members were looking from Reese to Emeline to one another suspiciously.
“Emeline!” Dada demanded softly. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, his dark eyes wide. “What are you doing?”
“It’s all right, Dada,” she told him, and her own steady voice surprised her. “It’s the right thing to do.”
Her father turned pale and started to rise, but Fish caught his arm. He looked alarmed too, but he shook his head at Dada, watching Emeline.
Innish reentered the chamber, carrying the potted plant from the corridor; it was freshly watered, dripping. He brought it carefully up to Reese, but Emeline could tell from his expression that he had no idea what this pretty, curling flower was for.
There was a short silence, and she looked at Reese, not sure how to begin. He nodded and announced, “Your Majesty and members of the council know of the Keldares’ stories—tales of magic as unlikely to some as the Dark Creatures. Emeline Bird’s mother was a Keldare.”
Emeline swelled with pride at his words. Several of the Sapients were scowling now, whispering angrily to one another, and the Theurgists watched in suspense.
Reese smiled at her encouragingly, even though his eyes were worried. She stepped forward and took the plant from him.
“What is this nonsense?” someone demanded from among the Sapients.
Ignoring it, Emeline held her hand out over the lady star. The shimmer of magic spread hotly up her arms until it filled her, her palms almost aglow. The flower sprang up into the air, following her fingers like a dancing red snake.
The council room exploded into a fury.
Theurgists and Sapients leapt from their chairs, shouting at the top of their lungs. The king’s attendants cried out and recoiled in fear.
“By the kingdom!” Innish bellowed.
King Olvinde sat perfectly still, his face drained of any color it had left.
Bolstered by the potent magic inside her, Emeline held her ground, spinning the flower in elegant spirals.
“What trickery is this?!” a Sapient screamed.
“Stop her! Stop it right now!”
“Don’t you touch her!” a Theurgist brayed.
“This is proof! This is absolute proof!”
“Nonsense! Chicanery! Call the guards!”
There was a sudden crash of chairs falling and Emeline snapped out of her spell. Reese was standing between her and the Sapients, some of whom had rushed down from their seats. She realized that Dada and Fish had jumped up and stood on either side of her, ready to beat back the Theurgists too.
She had done it.
“Stop, girl,” the king rasped at her. He was rigid in his throne, his skeletal hands clenching its arms. Quickly, she let the flower fall, drooping over the side of the pot.
“It’s real, Your Majesty!” The words rushed out of her, in nearly the same way her magic did. “Magic is real and so are the Ithin!”
“Lies!” the Sapients shrieked.
“This is why Equane needs help!” Emeline shouted at the king. “Your Majesty, please! Please help us!”
“The plant must be examined!” Rellum roared. Helid’s expression was beatific.
The king grabbed hold of one of his attendants and spoke urgently into his ear. Collecting himself, the attendant pulled a small bell from his robe and produced the chime that had sounded earlier. It startled the council members enough to create a pause.
“His Majesty demands silence!”
“This changes everything!”
“Your Majesty, this is everything w
e’ve tried to tell you!” a Theurgist called out.
The king beat his fist on his lap and the attendant shouted, “Silence! By order of the king!”
Emeline’s head was pounding, but Dada was holding her hand tight and Reese was a fierce wall in front of her. There were one or two more shouts, mostly incoherent. Then followed a strained silence.
King Olvinde’s eyes bored into Emeline once more, his thin chest heaving. “Sir Reese,” he said, after a moment, “bring me that plant.”
Obediently, Reese took the pot from Emeline and passed it to the closest of the king’s attendants.
“It’s an ordinary lady star, Your Majesty, from one of the royal gardens,” Reese said.
The king held the pot in his lap and studied the drooping flower. The council members murmured as he poked in the dirt and ran his shaky hands along the bottom of the pot.
“Young lady, explain to me how you manipulated this plant,” he commanded Emeline.
“It’s plants and water together,” she told him in a rush. “I can make them move. I discovered it in Equane, with the water lilies in our canals.”
“Your Majesty, she also used it to defend herself from the Ithin in the manor,” Reese said, and Emeline felt a small weight lift from her. Now there was nothing he hadn’t told the king, on her account.
“So you’ve witnessed this phenomena before?” the king asked him. He nodded.
Emeline clenched her fists and added, “I had to show you, Your Majesty, to make you understand that our village is in danger! If the council just keeps arguing and attacking itself, then nothing will be done to protect our people! Don’t you understand?”
This was followed by outbreaks of bitter rumbling from the council. It was clear that the silence would not last long.
She looked at her family; they were pale and breathless, Dada most of all. She longed suddenly for them all to be far away from that airless room.
King Olvinde cast a wary look at his divided council. Then he nodded slowly to himself.
“I hereby decree that we should waste no time in investigating either this girl’s ability or the areas in which the Ithin were seen,” he declared.
The council members had no time to react.
The double doors flew open and crashed against the walls. “Your Majesty!” a voice roared.
Emeline’s heart jumped into her throat. It was a blue-armored guard with his bullet-gun drawn.
“We’re under attack!” he shouted, half-panicked, half-confused.
The king dropped the plant to the floor and the pot shattered.
“Attack?” he echoed. “By who?” Another guard raced into view and nearly crashed into the first one, heaving. His face was terrified.
“It’s the Ithin!” he cried out, his voice trembling. “The Ithin are in the grove!”
Suddenly, the council room seemed to spin. Voices broke out all around Emeline—the king’s, the Sapients’ and Theurgists’—someone shouting—
Numbly, she felt Reese’s arm around her, pushing her back toward the seats. “Stay calm,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the bedlam.
“There is no such thing!” a Sapient bellowed.
“I saw one with my own eyes!” a guard yelled.
“How did they get in my grove?” the king demanded, horrified.
More guards and servants appeared in the doorway, shouting and running. The pandemonium was sudden and intense.
“Take the king to the tower!” Reese commanded the royal attendants. Then he started for the double doors. The Theurgists leapt to their feet as the king’s attendants helped him up—a few of them started for the mirrored door themselves, as it was the closest exit. The Sapients watched them, frightened, but stubbornly rooted to the spot.
“This is another trick!” one of them bellowed. “Just like this village girl!”
A loud scream burst from somewhere outside the hall, chilling Emeline to the bone. Everyone stared at one another in horror.
Helid Theurgist shot up from his seat a second later, as if he’d been stabbed from below. His wrinkled face was slick with terror.
“They’ve come back!” he shrieked. His fellow council members stared at him in astonishment, not comprehending. Then his face burned red, and he gathered his robe up quickly, struggling to leave. The king looked back in confusion before he and his attendants disappeared through the mirrored door.
Then someone else shouted from across the room: “It was you! You let them out!”
Everyone turned toward the voice. It came from the doors, through which Reese and Innish had not yet left. To Emeline’s amazement, Innish stood taut and furious, his finger pointed at Helid. His face was nearly unrecognizable. Reese was gaping at him.
Then the guard flew toward the council. He threw himself in front of the mirrored door as it closed behind the king, blocking anyone else’s escape. Helid recoiled from him, suddenly looking very old and weak.
“Bless water,” Dada whispered, holding Dale and Emeline tight. Innish seemed delirious.
“You let them out!” he roared, sounding like a madman. “And now they’ve come home!” Grabbing Helid by his sleeve, Innish called out to Reese, across the council room. “We must flood the grove, Reese! The water will destroy them!” His voice was so altered now that he seemed to be a different man.
Helid trembled as Sapients and Theurgists alike rushed away in different directions.
“Flood the grove,” Fish repeated. “That might work! It’s walled in!”
Reese was staring back at Innish as if a wild realization had struck him. Innish turned and swung himself and Helid through the mirrored door; Reese looked at Emeline and the others, and she could see his thoughts whirling, fast as a whip crack.
“Follow Innish!” he shouted at her. “Into the tower!”
Dada rushed them toward the empty thrones obediently. “Into the tower,” he said feverishly, pushing everyone past the chairs and toward the mirrored door.
Emeline looked back at Reese, her heart pounding. He had bolted out of the double doors.
“We’re going into the king’s tower?” Aladane hissed in disbelief.
“Come on!” Fish exclaimed, and shoved him.
In a second, they were through the mirror and it had closed soundly behind them. Emeline blinked rapidly in the gloom.
Gone was all the glass and silver. They were standing in a dark, low-ceilinged hallway made of ancient stone bricks. She remembered that the tower was older than the rest of the King’s Hall, dating back to the beginnings of the capital. There was a faint smell of mildew.
Innish and Helid had vanished already, and the king and his attendants were long gone. The hallway curved to the left ahead of them, passing a narrow window before it disappeared into darkness.
“A ‘king’s grove’!” Fish burst out in disgust. “The royals should’ve known this would happen! It’s a wood, just like any other wood!” He tore off his hat and slapped it against the stone wall.
“What was Innish saying?” Emeline asked, panting.
“I don’t know, but let’s get farther in,” Dada said. They started for the curve up ahead and Dale paused at the nearest window slit.
“Maybe we can see what’s going on!” he said.
“Em, you showed them your magic!” Aladane exclaimed, incredulous.
“I had to,” she said, glancing at Dada’s ashen face. “To protect Equane.”
She squeezed against Dale to see out the window, squinting in the bright sunset. It looked down on a rooftop, some portion of the hall. Beyond it, they could see only the buildings of the capital, stretching out like a very real tapestry.
“The grove is on the other side,” Dale realized. They turned and hurried around the corner, the boys bumping into each other in the musty darkness. They climbed several stone steps,
catching sight of another window slit ahead.
Suddenly screams broke through the air, and everyone froze. Emeline flew to the window, her heart in her throat.
Where was Reese? Was he all right? She could see the trees of the grove now, just in view on the left. The next window, she thought, and bolted ahead, not waiting for the others.
Dada called after her as she raced around the corner, stumbling over the steps. She found the next window, trembling. Now she could see the grove directly below; the tree-tops were dense and green, and deceptively still. She spotted several guards standing atop the great stone wall that sealed in the grove; they were holding massive hoses, pouring water out over the trees.
The others joined her just as she heard a noise ahead, around the next corner. They all stopped and listened. It sounded like something scraping against stone.
“There’s someone here,” Dada said, alarmed.
“Maybe it’s Innish, still acting like a lunatic,” Fish said grimly.
“Get behind us.” Dada stepped in front of Emeline and the boys, and Fish followed him, both of them tense. They led the way cautiously toward the corner, listening as the scraping became louder. It was accompanied by heavy breathing.
They rounded the corner and came upon Innish himself, attacking the tower wall with a long, heavy spear. The villagers halted, startled. He gave them one quick glance and then continued, slamming the point of the spear into a crack between the stone bricks. The weapon looked like a decorative piece that he’d taken from a wall somewhere. Helid was no longer with him.
“I told you,” Fish muttered.
“Innish, what are you doing?” Dada demanded.
“There is a secret way down into the grove.” Innish heaved, stabbing fiercely into the crack. “Only Olvinde and I know it.” His face was not that of the man they’d traveled with; gone was the serious, guarded expression. Now he looked feverish, his eyes enormous.
“Olvinde…!” Dale repeated, staring. Emeline had caught it too—Innish had called the king by his name alone.
With one more blow, a stone in the wall pivoted and fell crashing to the floor. Innish grabbed hold of the stones on either side and pulled them out, widening the hole to expose a cavity inside the thick wall. It was wide enough for a man to fit inside.
Between the Water and the Woods Page 21