Ashes

by C B Samet

  They cried with me.

  Bringing the children home and unpacking blurred with the preparations for Joshua’s funeral, which blurred with the funeral itself several days later.

  Baird had been kind enough to fetch Joshua’s parents, who’d apparently been on their deathbeds before Joshua healed the kingdom. They stayed at the castle, so they could greet all the people coming to the funeral to give thanks to Joshua for saving their lives.

  My mother stayed at my home and helped look after the children. Raven tended to the horses and Fury. Baird served as our communication link between my household and the castle.

  On the day of the funeral, my mother helped me dress in a gown of black crow feathers. I took Joshua’s Healing Stone and the leather wristband he’d made for it and wore it as a band on my upper arm. The brown leather had been worn until it was smooth and supple.

  After arriving at the castle, I was led to the amphitheater and took a seat before Joshua’s casket.

  Hans approached and gave his condolences as he knelt before me. He looked older and paler since the beginning of the quest. Gone was the rosy-cheeked boy I’d met at the university. He’d been replaced by a man who appeared to carry the worry of someone twice his age, yet he still possessed the fragility of youth.

  I searched for some kind words. “The dagger you gave me helped me secure the Wind Stone.”

  He lowered his head, avoiding direct eye contact with me. “I’m glad to hear it. If you ever need anything, milady ... ” His voice trailed off, as he stood and left the stage.

  Baird stood beside my chair. Although he remained silent, I felt both the reassurance of his presence and the weight of his sorrow. His thick, blue coat billowed under the slight breeze.

  Beside him sat the Queen, grave and forlorn—but steadfast. Always steadfast. I could never bottle my emotions the way she did. Even now, days after Joshua’s death, I felt like a mild breeze could have scattered the shattered pieces of me like a dandelion in the wind. If the heavy clouds above unleashed a shower, I’d dissolve into my chair, to be swept away across the marble before vanishing into the dirt.

  The children huddled near my mother and stepfather off to one side, so they could mourn, but not be near the attention of the crowds who’d come to pay their respect to Joshua.

  Joshua’s parents huddled together off to one side, mourning the loss of their only child. We had hugged, but I’d had no words to offer them for the sacrifice he’d made.

  Arturo approached, wearing loose-fitting black leggings and a tunic. He began to kneel, but we were too good of friends for that nonsense. I stood and let his enormous arms envelop me. Arturo had been a witness at Joshua’s and my wedding—our first wedding, on the Juniper, out at sea. Much later, Arturo and I fought together in the Hunju civil war. Arturo was half-Hunju, half-human; and had fought for the rights of the mixed race. The civil war had brought them closer to equality, although thousands of years of cultural repression wouldn’t change overnight.

  “I don’t have words meaningful enough, Ab’ay.”

  I sniffed. “It’s enough that you came.”

  He gave me another great squeeze before easing me back into my chair.

  Warmth crept into my hand as it lay on the armrest. The sensation soothed me, like drinking orange tea for a parched throat. I felt some of the tight sensation that had been around my chest for days ease, allowing for deeper breathing. When I looked to my right, Mal was kneeling beside me, watching the crowd of mourners and holding my hand.

  Allis approached next, with a trail of children of varying ages behind him—all dressed in matching maroon-colored clothing.

  Allis grasped my hand and kissed it. “Joshua’s life will be sung in songs for hundreds of years, and his death will be mourned by all.” With a bow of his head, he released my hand and stepped back. He turned and melted into the crowd.

  I looked at Mal to my right, giving him a grateful nod. My eyes fell to the long-fingered hand he’d slipped into mine. After several seconds, I felt the contact pulse with warmth and energy—as though he was transmitting a steady stream of silent reassurance.

  I realized that in our many years of friendship, our grazing touches had never lasted more than a second or two other than the moment Orrick had us touch. Apparently, with prolonged contact, I could actually feel his presence.

  A long procession of people expressed their condolences and threw flowers at the foot of Joshua’s casket. Layers and layers of flowers piled higher and higher, with their bright colors contrasting against the dark clothing of those who bore them. So many flowers. So many mourners. So many lives saved by Joshua’s sacrifice. I thought of the Callabus funeral song.

  My time to rest,

  My place to nest.

  Take my soul home,

  End my weary roam.

  Light a torch for me,

  My body from sand to sea.

  From the sea to the moon,

  By the stars rests my tomb.

  A small figure, no heavier than a rabbit, hopped up onto my bed.

  “Go away,” I told Raven.

  “You’ve been in bed for three days.” As she peeled the covers back, sunlight blinded me.

  “Not long enough,” I complained, pulling the covers back up.

  She yanked them off and out of reach. “You have children, and a job, and a life to get back to.”

  I dropped a pillow over my head. “Everything hurts.”

  “That’s because you haven’t moved. You need to get up, get dressed, and move. Not to mention eat something.” She tore off my pillow and threw it on the floor. “And bathe!”

  I sat up and blinked.

  “This is not the behavior befitting the Red Goddess.”

  “I hate that title.”

  “Well, right now, you don’t deserve it.”

  “I’m mourning. Where’s my mother?”

  “You’ve mourned long enough in bed. You can finish mourning while you resume your daily routine. Your mother is with Rebekah. She’s not going to save you from me. No one is. They’ve all pampered you long enough. Now, go take a bath. Your water’s ready.”

  I swung my feet to the edge of the bed and touched them to the cool, wood surface.

  “You have a whole list of things to do.” Raven crossed her arms.

  “That’s not motivating me.”

  “You promised Orrick you’d bring him here. The poor wizard is languishing among brownies until you rescue him. And you haven’t told the Queen about Bellos’ army yet.”

  I sighed as I stood.

  After pulling off my nightgown, I climbed into the bath. The water was comfortably warm and lavender scented. “Thank you,” I said, before sinking my head under the water.

  When I emerged, Raven sat on a nearby stool and handed me a bar of soap. We hadn’t talked about taking her back to the forest, and she seemed careful to never bring up the topic.

  “Would you like to stay here with me and my family? I’ll take you home if you like, but we’d like you to stay.”

  Raven straightened her black-feathered hat and beamed. “I’d like to stay.”

  When I’d finished washing, I dried and pulled a clean nightgown over my head. I plucked an apple from a basket of fruit on my bedroom dresser and snacked on an apple.

  I reached for the glass memory cylinder beside the basket. I needed to give this to Orrick. First, I’d watch one last memory—a farewell to Isabel Dallik, who seven-thousand-years after her death, still gave me strength.

  I entered the memories and found myself watching Isabel work fervently in a library, surrounded by an array of open and closed books. She took notes and jumped sporadically from book to book.

  As she worked, I heard her speaking—her voice filled with pain. “The king has left for Bellos to attempt diplomatic negotiations. Even knowing he’d ignore my request, I pleaded for him not to go. The Bellosian army is days away from invading Karnelik with forces ten times that of the Karnelik army. We can’t
win, and soon the kingdom will learn of my husband’s death. The answer—the solution—lies somewhere in these books. Somewhere, peace can be bought through magic. Generations can be spared the heartache I’ve known. I have to find the correct concoction. I have to save people from themselves and save my sons.”

  I marveled at this woman’s strength and determination. Knowing her husband died at the hands of their enemies, she still didn’t cower—didn’t sulk under her bed sheets for days—but continued her life’s passion: Searching for a cure from the evil infecting men.

  With Raven’s encouragement, I managed to bathe, dress, and have dinner with my family. We talked about the horses, and Carrot, and the next planting of the garden. All of the conversation had a dreary edge to it.

  “What will happen to father’s clinic?” Natalie asked.

  I mustered a smile. “The investors have agreed to build the hospital your father planned. They’ll call it the Colt Center for Healing.”

  “Mama!” Natalie gasped. She left her dinner seat, came to me, and climbed into my arms. “He still gets his clinic. He still gets his dream.” She buried her face in my neck and cried tears of joy.

  “Yes, he does.” I sniffed. I held her close, hoping we could stay this close as she grew older. So far, she hadn’t accused me of not doing enough to keep him alive. So far, she hadn’t blamed me as I blamed myself. One day—perhaps more than once—she would blame me in a fit of anger. She’d wish that I’d taken her father’s place. When that unhappy day came, I’d bear the brunt of her pain. But today, in this moment, she let her love for me warm the cold that Joshua’s absence had left.

  That night, I dreamwalked into Goran’s room. It was vacant, so I took a seat in the little chair by his bed, hoping that he hadn’t died, but simply wasn’t asleep yet.

  “Lady Cross.”

  I looked up to see Goran standing over me. Despite the scar on his face, his expression held delight.

  “I was hoping you’d come back.” He beamed with a vibrancy that conveyed his gratitude.

  To my surprise, he pulled me to my feet before twirling me around the room. “You are my miracle.” He kissed a cheek. “I owe you everything.”

  “They all live?”

  “That they do.”

  My heart swelled to learn that he and his family had survived. Tears filled my eyes.

  “Milady?” He stepped back from me.

  “It’s wonderful to know the magic saved you and your family.” My throat felt tight.

  “Oh, by the Unideit. Your husband was ill. Did he not—? Did he survive?”

  “He did not.” I couldn’t get further words out of my mouth. I wanted to explain the hero he’d been, but I didn’t want to give the wrong impression that I resented those who’d lived when Joshua hadn’t.

  Goran stepped closer, before tugging me into an embrace. “I’m deeply sorry. I’m pained for you. My family and I will travel to Crithos. We’ll grieve with you, provide for you.”

  Composing myself, I stepped back from him. “No. Kovia has to rebuild, and I’m in no condition for company. Help your country—I have help available to me here.”

  “Very well. But, please, if you ever need anything—you know where to find me.”

  “I only needed the comfort of knowing you lived. I’ll not haunt your dreams again.”

  “Unless I can be of assistance.”

  “Thank you.”

  22

  I waited for the Queen in the courtyard.

  I was dressed in black for mourning, with a black and silver breastplate and sword at my side. I’d left my hair down, and I’d omitted the red cape—especially since I hadn’t replaced it yet, after converting it to a bat sack. Six alabaster statues of the prior Avant Champions towered over me. Fortunately, they hadn’t yet commissioned funds to add the seventh champion. Besides, it would offset the balance of two rows of three champions. I wondered if the other champions had faced only the single hardship of slaying Malos—or if, like I’d found, that had only been the beginning of a lifetime of other challenges, expectations, and responsibilities.

  The Queen approached, apparently recovered from her illness. She wore her gray hair woven in a tower above her head. A crimson, satin dress arched stiffly around her body. Her posture was as rigid as a plank, and her hands clasped firmly together.

  She dismissed her guards, and we were alone.

  “You requested to see me, Abigail?”

  “My Queen.” I bowed before her. “I—”

  “How are the children?”

  I swallowed. “Natalie is devastated. Paul is trying to grasp the calamity. Rebekah feeds off everyone else’s mood even if she doesn’t understand.”

  “How can I help?”

  I eyed her warily. In the many years of our friendship—or my subservience—she’d never extended unsolicited help. I answered hesitantly, “I have help.”

  “Teachers? Cooks? Farm hands?”

  “Yes. All of those.”

  “A head housekeeper?”

  “No, mum.”

  “I will make a recommendation. You need someone to keep the others organized and manage schedules. She will also be trained in bookkeeping. She’ll send our financiers records of all your employees’ wages. Those will be paid for by the crown.”

  I felt my cheeks burn. I wasn’t here for charity. “That is generous, my Queen, but—”

  “No, it isn’t,” she snapped. “We cannot—will never be able to—repay Joshua for his sacrifice. This is a meager offering. Do not think of it as charity. Consider it payment of wages Joshua would have been able to make through his hospital work but can’t because of what we did to him. ”

  The air felt tense with her barely suppressed anguish.

  “What you’re offering will help. Thank you.”

  “And the hospital?”

  “We have all of the funds raised to build the hospital. I’ll oversee it.”

  “What else?” Her question came out as a demand. Her gaze darted from my sword to my eyes.

  I furrowed my brow in confusion and looked around the courtyard. “Nothing else, Queen Rebekah.”

  I added, “On another matter—”

  “You’ve not come to kill me, then?”

  I took a step back from her. “No!”

  Her posture relaxed slightly. “We deceived you. Joshua knew you’d try to stop him when you saw the magic draining his life. He suggested the captain of guard may have to intervene. I gave Coco the order to do so if needed. In the deliberation room, you had an expression that you might kill us all one day. When you arrived, dressed as the Champion and armed, I thought perhaps today was when you meant to exact your revenge. I was prepared to let you.”

  I gaped at her. “You think I’m capable of executing you? I’m in mourning and miserable. I hate the events that happened, but I can’t think of a different, better way for them to have unfolded.” I began to pace. “Believe me, I’ve been angry enough at all of you to demand there must have been another way.” I stopped and turned to her. “But I would never harm you. We don’t always agree, and I don’t always comprehend your motives, but don’t fear me. I always have, and always will, defend you with my life.”

  She smiled weakly. “Then, I am sorry for doubting you. Oh, for Crithos sake, stop staring at me like that. I do apologize for my behavior on occasion. Now, you had some other news?”

  I sucked in a deep breath. “The Waterlands of Kovia give the sight of the future. I don’t know the validity of what they revealed, but it certainly felt real. It’s concerning enough for me to bring it to your attention.”

  I paused to take a deep breath.

  “Bellos will build an army—they may already be doing so. They will take Kovia, weakened by death and anarchy after the plague. Then they’ll come for Crithos, probably on two fronts—west by sea, east by land. I don’t know when—years in the future, I suspect—but you need to start building an army now.”

  The Queen rested a hand on
her abdomen as though made ill by the news. “This sort of behavior is unprecedented. We haven’t seen war in over seven-thousand-years. And yet, my sources suggest hostility brews across the globe. Malos’ stone must be failing.”

  “Yes. I don’t know why, but it is,” I said.

  “We will build an army,” she confirmed.

  “When they come, summon the Avant Champion. I’ll be ready to help defend the kingdom side by side with your soldiers.”

  As I packed my belongings in my office at the university, Coco entered. Her ponytail was freshly smoothed back, and she wore a sparkling captain’s uniform of blue and silver. I gave her the briefest glance as she set my Warrior Stone down on my desk.

  Baird, who had been helping me fit books into chests, silently left the room.

  The unspoken body language between him and Coco was frigid. She didn’t make eye contact with him, and his shoulders and jaw were tense.

  Coco walked over to the window. “Well, we know whose side Baird chose.”

  “We’re all supposed to be friends. He shouldn’t have to choose sides.”

  She looked around the room and the half-filled boxes. “You’re leaving the university?”

  “I am. At least, I’m taking a sabbatical long enough to get Joshua’s hospital built. I may or may not come back.”

  She pursed her lips as she paced my office. “I had no choice. If I let you rescue Joshua from the magic destroying him, then the kingdom would have been destroyed.”

  I thought of how she’d planned everything. Coco’s knife had been ready, and she’d brought salt with her back from Kovia. Her actions had been premeditated.

  Yet, so much sorrow still filled me there was no room for anger. Joshua had given her instructions, the Queen reinforced them. Coco, ever the soldier, carried them out. As much as I wanted to blame her—because she was alive, and Joshua was not—Coco had just followed her orders.