Leif sighs. My hands are clenched in my lap and he reaches over to grasp onto them. I try to pull away, but he holds on tightly and I stop resisting. “Raven, your love for your family, your passion for them, it’s what I respect most about you. I only … I just wish you’d see the larger picture here. The Treasoners are willing to go into danger to get rid of old Araroa. You wouldn’t be the cause of it, far from it. You’re the inspiration.”
There is a long pause as I absorb what he’s just said.
“Still … I can’t do it, Leif. I can’t order people to essentially be killed when there’s no immediate need. Araroa’s been keeping to himself, he’s called all his Hunters back. Besides, it’s the Loyalists we most need to worry about, and we’re not even sure how many we’re dealing with, or where they all are …”
“That all may be true, but you know it’s inevitable in the end. It always has been, Raven.” He draws my hands up to his mouth and places a soft kiss there. “You were born to rule this kingdom.”
“That may be true, but it’s not time. Not yet.”
“When? When will it be time?” Leif doesn’t bother to mask the frustration in his voice.
I don’t answer him right away. I shake my hands from his grip and place them on the ground behind me. I lean back, look up through the treetops, into the glittering night sky. A star falls just then, leaving a trail of fire across the blackness. Then it’s gone, extinguished.
“I don’t know. Let’s go to sleep, Leif.”
“Fine by me.” He curls back up in his blanket, and I wrap myself in mine. I listen to his breathing, but it doesn’t slow into its sleeping rhythm. We both lay awake for a very long time.
Leif brings me a cup of coffee at sunrise, as usual, but I can tell his normal morning cheer is forced. I thank him, keeping my woolen blanket wrapped around me against the dawn chill. I close my eyes and breathe in the warm steam from the coffee, then take a small sip. I open them to find Leif’s already packed up his bedroll and is on the other side of our small camp, helping get the horses ready to go.
I wonder how many more days he’s going to sulk like this, then strike the thought from my mind. I throw back the mug of coffee in several long gulps.
There’s no time to waste. It’s slow going, considering less than half of our company has a horse, so we start out again within the half-hour.
We’re nearing the edge of the forest, and I’m not looking forward to making our way across the long, exposed moor to the Bastion—always my least favorite part of this trip.
Catriona goes riding up ahead, scouting to make sure the coast is clear. A few minutes later she comes back, riding Hazel at a run. “There’s a group coming down the road, a large one!” I ride up to join her, raising my hand to indicate for everyone to stay back. I want to see for myself who it is.
We’re only a few hundred yards from the road at this point, and we keep back to watch them pass—a few dozen men, armed with every imaginable weapon: swords, scythes, spears, staffs, bows, and arrows.
“Treasoners?” I whisper to Catriona, realizing as I ask that I’m not sure if I want them to be … or not.
She shakes her head. “Unlikely. Not a woman or child among them.”
My heart leaps into my throat with the realization that I’m staring at a large band of Loyalists, who’d likely kill me on the spot if they discovered I was watching them.
I’m frozen for a time, then turn Pearl to ride back to the others.
Tui comes riding toward me when I get near. “Who is it? What’s going on?”
I grip Pearl’s reins tighter, a futile attempt to stop the violent shaking in my hands. “It’s Loyalists. An army of them, basically.”
I glance behind Tui to Leif beyond him, atop George. He raises his brows, not saying a word.
“Doesn’t sound good,” Tui says. But he’s looking at Catriona now, not me.
“It’s not,” she says. “They’re clearly marching to the Bastion. I did recognize a couple of them, right at the back, the men Imogen was with. They must have been planning on meeting up. No telling how many others there are.”
“And if you all hadn’t rescued me, I’d be able to tell you exactly what they are up to,” Imogen says, walking up to join us.
I ignore her comment, but she continues, “This is good actually. We can infiltrate them, find out what they are up to. Well, not me and Raven, of course. She’d be the prize of a lifetime for those bastards, and, well, they’d surely remember me.”
My jaw drops. Is she actually suggesting what I think she is?
“I’ll do it.” Leif’s voice. I can’t believe my ears.
“Me too,” says Tui.
“Are you two mad? What are you thinking?” I give each of them a good glare, shaking my head.
Leif’s grinning with excitement. He looks at Tui, who’s beaming as well, then back to me. “Since we messed up Imogen’s chance to spy, we’ll just travel with those fellas for a while. Get a sense of what’s really going on. Besides, Imogen and her crew can use George and Pango, get to the port far more quickly than we’re going now.”
Callum raises his hand. “I’ll join up with the Loyalists”—he grins widely—“can’t wait to plan revenge on them, anyway.”
I shake my head. “No way, Callum. Your parents and Rosie would be furious with me if I let you do such a thing—”
“Excuse me, m’lady,” Imogen interrupts. “But I think he’d be perfect. They won’t suspect a boy such as him of spying. Yes—Leif, Tui, and Callum would be the ideal team. They’ll blend in perfectly. A trio of exuberant youths. Besides, they’re all quick, they can take off in the night once they’ve had their fill of information.”
Callum is really beaming now, practically jumping up and down with eagerness.
Imogen turns to give orders to our three newly minted spies. “You’ll travel with them to the Bastion. Lay low, ask questions, but no obvious ones. Meet us at the northern gates three days from now, at midnight. You can continue with us to the port, fill us in with what you’ve learned.”
Leif tips his hat at Imogen. “Excellent plan, auntie.” He turns to gather some of his things from George’s saddlebags.
“Catriona?” My voice cracks—I don’t like this idea, not at all and I desperately hope my friend will agree. But one look at her satisfied face tells me I’m alone in my trepidation.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, Raven, but honestly, I think it may work. Our fellas will be just fine.” Her eyes glance over at Tui, occupied with packing his own bag. “Yes,” she says, looking back at me with a smile, “this is an excellent opportunity. It would be foolish to waste it.”
I can’t believe she’s being so casual about sending Tui in harm’s way. Maybe what I’ve suspected all along really is true: that Tui cares about her far more than she cares about him.
“What?” she asks. I realize I’ve been staring at her openmouthed. Incredulous.
“Aren’t you … worried about him at all?”
She can’t hide back a smirk. “Of course I am, Raven. But he’s a big boy. He’ll be fine. Leif will be too. Especially him, with his storytelling talents and all.”
I can’t argue with that. If anyone can act, and get someone talking, Leif can.
Leif leads George over to Imogen, then gives her a rundown of the old bay stallion’s traits. She pats his neck and mounts the horse in one swift movement.
I jump down from Pearl, run over to Leif and drag him by the arm to a private spot behind a large tree.
“Leif—you don’t have to do this, you know!”
Leif cups my face in his hands. There’s not even a hint of uneasiness in his face. He’s as excited as Callum to do this.
“I do. I’ve got to do something. Raven, these people are up to no good, and whatever it is, has got to be stopped. Don’t worry, please don’t worry. I’ll be fine, all three of us will. You just get yourself safely to the northern gates. I’ll meet you there.”
; “But what if you’re not?”
“I’ll be there, I promise.”
Before I can say anything further, he slides his hands into my hair and pulls my face to his. As his mouth meets mine, I close my eyes, letting myself melt into him, memorizing the sweet taste of him.
We finally break apart, then grab each other once again, holding on as tight as we can for a minute. Reluctantly, we loosen our grip on each other and lean backward.
“I’m sorry about everything over the past day.” He reaches up to brush some loose hair that’s fallen over my forehead. “Sometimes I do forget what really matters—you and me. I love you, Raven Araroa.” He leans over to kiss my forehead, then turns to join up with Tui and Callum, letting his hand fall from my arm at the very last second.
But the fact that he’s really going to do this—spy on bloodthirsty Loyalists—makes me wonder if he truly believes that.
As planned, we catch up to the slow-traveling band of Loyalists. Leif, Tui, and Callum dart from the trees and line up with the men toward the rear of the parade. I overhear Leif’s voice as they sidle themselves in: “S’cuse me. Had to take a leak!” Low laughter.
I watch from the tree line, still feeling disbelief that this is truly happening. That I’m allowing my two dearest friends to put themselves in harm’s way like this.
They’re going to be fine. I keep repeating these words to myself.
As if I could actually believe them.
They march around a bend in the road and are out of sight.
“Raven, we’ve got to go.” Catriona tugs on my arm gently and we move on in the direction we’d planned, keeping to the trees and making our way to the north of the Bastion.
Imogen rides atop George, and Ben—a horseman, it turns out—takes his turn riding Pango. Hamish and, the man who I’ve since learned is called Will, keep up easily on foot.
We ride silently for a long while. The mid-morning sun streams down through the treetops, warming the woods around us. Dew evaporates, steaming in shafts of sunlight.
I have, unfortunately, a lot of time to think. I think about that day, not even a month ago, when I stood in front of King Araroa and declared myself to be the true heir to the throne of Nadir, not my blood brother Dominic. The King couldn’t believe Fortissima and the crown still existed, but they do, and they are mine. I will be the next Woman King of Nadir, whether he likes it or not.
But the King—despite all that’s happened—is not the biggest obstacle standing in my way to ruling Nadir one day. All those Loyalists, those furious men—and women, I’m sure—those that believe Nadir should stay as it has for the past thousand years, they are the ones standing between me and the throne. And even if I am on the throne? I’ll never be able to rule if they don’t believe I should be there … .and I have no idea how I’d convince them that’s true. Perhaps if I had a copy of the original Diuturnal Law … but those were destroyed by Quelline and re-written with the orders for the first daughters to be executed at birth. At least, that’s what I’d been told, just as they’d told me Fortissima’d been destroyed as well.
I turn these thoughts around and around in my mind as we ride. The only conclusion I seem to be able to come up with is we are bound for failure.
We reach the edge of the forest two days later. We’re far to the north of where the Loyalists are traveling on the road, and we’ll make a run across the moor to the Bastion tomorrow. Which means I’ll be reaching the port sometime during tomorrow night … where hopefully my family will arrive not long after, if they haven’t arrived already.
Catriona scouts around us, and after announcing there’s not a soul nearby, we build a small fire. We don’t have much to eat, other than some dried bits of meat and stale bread, but we do have hot tea for dessert: peppermint, of course, Leif’s favorite. I nearly can’t drink it, the taste only reminds me of how terribly I miss him.
Hamish, Ben, and Will disappear into the trees to sleep, and Imogen curls up in her bedroll next to the fire and is soon snoring lightly.
The sky has just faded to black; it’s not very late and besides, I’m once again on pins, thinking of Leif and Tui with those Loyalists. What if they’re found out? Are they really up to the task of spying?
“Leif’s an expert talker, you know that. He’ll get the information we need and get out of there.” I look over at Catriona, who’s just spoken as though she’s read my mind.
“But what about Tui? He’s terrible at lying.”
Catriona tips back her last slug of tea. “You’re right about that. Leif will cover for him, I’m sure. He’ll be all right.”
“You don’t sound like you miss him much.”
“Of course I do, it’s just …” She pauses, considering.
I wait.
“It’s just that he’s kind of smothering, you know? I mean, I adore him, I really do. But he’s just so … so attached when we’re together. I hardly get a breather.” She turns away from the fire, looks at me directly. “You know me, Raven. I’m used to being on my own. I work best on my own. I need space to concentrate. Like I said, I love being with Tui—he’s adorable—but I kind of felt relief that I’ll get some time to myself over these few days. Do you know what I mean?”
I raise my brows at her but don’t reply straight away. I really don’t know what she means. I’d give anything to have Leif sitting next to me right now, instead of sleeping with some Loyalists in a camp or at the Bastion. Alone. He might frustrate me sometimes, sure, but I never get tired of seeing him smile at me, or feeling his hand running through my hair, or …
I open my eyes, not even realizing I’d closed them. “Sorry. I do know what you mean. In a way. You know what they say: time apart grows the heart and all that. I bet you’ll be glad to meet up with Tui at the Bastion.”
Catriona pats my knee. “You’re right. I’m sure I will. Good night, Raven.”
We both climb into our blankets. I watch the fire slowly die down, then I allow my eyes to close. But all that’s behind my lids are images of Leif, or more specifically, images of what I’m going to do to him when we meet up.
We sleep in since we don’t plan on crossing the moor until late in the day, timing our arrival close to the Bastion after dark. There’s no telling what kinds of patrols King Araroa has set up … or how many Loyalists might be milling about.
I ask Imogen about this as we sip our coffee. Catriona and the three boys have gone off to see if they can catch a bit of fresh meat for breakfast. We’re all tired of the old, dried, salted stuff. “I don’t remember you being worried about running into Loyalists during our time at the Bastion. Are there not many there?”
Imogen takes a sip of coffee, then shakes her head. “No, only the odd one here and there had any sort of respect for old Araroa. Nearly everyone I know—and that’s a lot, having lived there my whole life—can’t stand the guy. He’s not made life any easier for anyone, that’s for sure.”
I remember Leif’s stories of how the King only allows the scarcest of rations to be given to commoners, keeping all the good food for himself and the Palace. Although that’s changed in recent years, with myself being a direct recipient of the thriving black market, for all that the King doesn’t allow.
“No,” she continues, “most of the Loyalists come from the country. They have this belief that life is fine under Araroa—and maybe it is, for them. They are desperate to prevent that from changing, and clearly they’re taking it on themselves to do something about that. From what we saw the other day, they’re clearly starting to move in to the Bastion.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I say, thinking again of the fact I’m up against more than old Araroa himself now.
“You don’t have anything to be afraid of.” Imogen smiles warmly at me. It makes my heart skip—so much like Leif’s brilliant smile. “I’m positive those idiots are greatly outnumbered.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say, and take another sip of coffee.
There’s a commot
ion in the trees behind us and I jump up, spilling coffee down the front of my leather jacket. Hamish appears, pushing some branches aside for the others. “Look what we’ve got!”
Catriona emerges, holding a fat brushbird in each hand. “Stoke the fire! Breakfast is on.”
After our filling meal, preceded by the long night’s sleep, spirits are high as we set off to cross the moor late afternoon.
We take our time, having no desire to arrive anywhere near the Bastion until late. The half-moon rises, and after the last glow of sunset has faded, it lends a silvery glow to the tall, waving grasses that stretch as far as the eye can see. From atop Pearl’s gently swaying back, I look around, and the view takes me right back to the sea, with the same endless horizon. Magical.
Eventually the walls of the Bastion loom before us, and far too soon we’re upon the towering fortress. The northern border of Nadir’s capital city is overgrown as it’s rarely used. Imogen, Ben, and I stay back with the horses, concealed in a grove of low, shrubby trees. Catriona, Hamish, and Will volunteer to sneak around to the gate, to make sure it’s only Tui, Leif, and Callum—and no other Loyalists—waiting.
It feels like an eternity as I wait for them to return. With Pearl at a full run, I’m only an hour from the port. So close.
But it’s really only a few minutes later when the three of them come back into view.
Catriona’s face is blanched white—and not from the moonlight.
“They’re not there,” she chokes out.
I don’t fully comprehend her words, even as straightforward as they are. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, there’s no sign of Tui. Or Leif, or Callum. The gates are locked tight. There’s not a soul around.”
I kick Pearl into a run. Seconds later, we’re standing before the northern gates. The last time I’d stood here, it was watching the Treasoners knock them down on our way to the Northern Desert prison camp. In the weeks since, the rusty iron bars have been repaired and re-hung.
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