Shadow Heir: A Dark Swan Novel#4

by Richelle Mead

  The people in the Rowan castle bore the same looks of hope that their Thorn brethren had. I was glad to give them something positive in these dreary times but worried once more about whether I could deliver. They were equally excited to hear my children had been born safely and were hidden away among humans. The gentry nodded along as though there was nothing weird about this, and thinking once more about fairy tales, I wondered if maybe those stories had some basis in history.

  Communing with the land had to be done outdoors, so while my men warmed up inside, I bundled up and sat down in the courtyard. I reached out to the land and received an answer—and better understood what Jasmine and Dorian had described. It took a lot of energy to reach the land’s heart and establish any sort of connection, explaining why she’d been wiped out. But, I could also feel what she’d meant about the land not burning through energy very quickly. It needed the power and welcomed my support, but in the blight’s hibernation, the land mostly used my energy to keep its core strong. Nothing was being expended on the living, breathing, day-to-day maintenance of the kingdom. This saddened me, but I hoped it would mean the land really could survive a while without me.

  Once that was done, we had little time to dally. My men and I traveled back to the Thorn Land, and there, in the evening darkness, I performed the same type of magical connection with my kingdom. The response was the same, and when I was finally able to trudge into my bedroom, I was certain I’d fall right to sleep. Normally, I felt flustered when servants waited on me, but tonight I was grateful someone else was off packing and taking care of my supplies for tomorrow.

  Those same servants had piled the fire high in my room, bringing the temperature to a level that might even be too hot later—but which was wonderful now. The staff had also taken pains to pile my bed with blankets and pillows. What I was pretty sure they had not placed on my bed, however, was Dorian.

  I sighed. “What are you doing here?”

  He was sprawled on top of the covers, propped up on some of the pillows with his hands resting behind his head. From the way he’d been gazing upward, he had the look of someone lost in dreams and imaginings. Or world-dominating machinations.

  “I came to talk to you, of course.” He stayed where he was, and I took a chair near the bed’s side. “You didn’t really think I would accept your cursory explanation about where you’ve been all this time?”

  “You know where I’ve been. And why I was there.”

  He managed a half shrug. “Yes, yes. But what about your children? Aren’t you going to tell me more about them? I’d hoped Shaya would do the womanly thing and interrogate you in detail, but she let me down. And of course I couldn’t quiz you on such things in front of the others.”

  “Of course,” I agreed, rolling my eyes. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your harsh, manly reputation.”

  “It would take a lot more than talking about infants to do that, my dear.”

  I stretched out my legs, surprised at the small aches in them. “Okay. What do you want to know? I’m not going to tell you where they are.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He turned his thoughtful gaze back up. “I don’t know. Tell me the essentials. What are they like? What are their names? Are they really in good health after being born so early?”

  “Their names are Isaac and Ivy,” I began.

  “Isaac?” he repeated.

  “It’s a nice name. A human name.”

  “I’m aware. But it’s not the name I’d give to a conqueror of worlds,” explained Dorian. He considered. “I would’ve gone with Thundro or Ragnor. I might just call him Thundro anyway.”

  “That’s ridiculous, and you know it. Their names are Isaac and Ivy. And my son’s not going to be a conqueror of worlds.”

  “So you say. Now go on.”

  I thought back to his questions and felt my stomach turn queasy as the twins’ faces flashed to my mind. “They’re like ... well, they look like me. So far. No trace of ... him. Other than that, it’s hard to guess too much what they’ll be like. And they’re small, of course. Smaller than what’s ideal. But everything’s there—there and perfect. Plus, they’re growing more and more each day. Pretty soon they’ll be able to go home.” I didn’t elaborate on what “home” meant—partially because I wasn’t even certain—but did go on to explain what had happened in the NICU. Dorian bore the usual gentry look of surprise and confusion at the technical lingo, but when I was finished, he actually seemed impressed.

  “Well, then, it sounds like it’s a blessing they were somewhere that could help them get through all of this,” he said. “But tell me, how are you handling all of it?”

  I stifled a yawn. “Not looking forward to a long journey in the snow. Also not excited that we don’t know exactly where we’re going, but compared to the alternative, I guess it’s—”

  “No, no,” he interrupted, sitting up so that he could meet my gaze. “Not this Yew Land nonsense. I’m talking about being away from Ivy and Thundro. How are you coping with that? It can’t be easy, being apart when they’re both so fragile.”

  My answer was a long time in coming. Aside from Roland—who had actually seen how difficult my parting from the twins was—no one had asked much, so far, about how I felt about having to leave them. Everyone had wanted to know about their births and that Isaac and Ivy were safe and accounted for, but my feelings on the matter had never been brought up. I was Eugenie, Queen of Rowan and Thorn, Storm King’s daughter. It was expected that I would slip easily into this new adventure and do my duty.

  “It’s terrible,” I said at last, unable to look into his eyes. I hated when he turned all serious. “I didn’t want to come back, even when Roland told me how bad things were. Leaving their bedside was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m wracked with guilt over every option. I hate myself for leaving them and would’ve hated myself for abandoning all of you. I feel split between worlds.”

  Dorian swung his legs over to the side of the bed. “You’ve felt that way since the moment I met you.”

  I thought about it. “I suppose so.”

  “Well, don’t worry. I’ll help you settle this blight problem so that you can get back to them soon.” He stood up and caught one of my hands in his. “I promise.” His lips brushed the top of my hand, and then he released it. I stared dumbfounded as he walked to the door. Before he left, he glanced back at me. “Oh, and for what it’s worth? I’m sorry you had to come back under these circumstances, but I am glad to see you again.”

  “Thanks,” I said stupidly, unable to formulate anything more eloquent. I wished I could say a hundred other things, like that I appreciated his compassion now and how he’d tried to help me before I left. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for not confiding in him before ... but the words stuck on my lips.

  He left me, and I was amazed. No snark, no innuendoes. Just honesty and sincerity. He’d seen my pain and offered his comfort. I wasn’t so sure cleaning up this “nonsense” would be as easy as he’d made it out to be, but the sentiment still meant a lot to me. This wasn’t the Dorian I’d left two months ago.

  Despite how awestruck his behavior had left me, I couldn’t ponder it much longer. We had a big day tomorrow, and my body was exhausted. I had enough presence of mind to strip off my outerwear and then slide into the heavily layered bed. Just before I fell asleep, I thought I caught the lingering scent of apples and cinnamon from where he’d been lying.

  Dorian was back to his usual bantering self the next morning. It wasn’t biting or sarcastic, though, and I could tell he was actually trying to boost everyone’s spirits with his jokes and quips. Although tense, everyone in our party actually seemed excited about our venture. I think they’d been inactive for too long and were grateful just to be doing something to try to rectify this problem.

  Along with Dorian, Jasmine, Pagiel, and Rurik, I also had two of my own guards and one of Dorian’s. All three were strong fighters, and Dorian’s man—Alistir—was also a healer. Shaya
came out to see us off, and from the way she and Rurik had to be pried apart, it was obvious they’d long since made up their differences from yesterday.

  We set out on horseback into another icy, blustery day. Jasmine, Pagiel, and I all wanted to use our magic to facilitate our journey, but Dorian cautioned against it so early on. “The road will be manageable. The horses are strong right now, and so are we. Don’t start expending yourselves quite so soon—especially since we don’t know if there’s worse weather to come.”

  The path did indeed grow a little easier once we reached one of the main roads, so I heeded his advice. From what they’d told me, the blight could occasionally whip up into ravaging blizzards. That was when we’d likely need magical assistance.

  We’d been on the road for about half a day, still maintaining our good mood, when the land shifted over to the Cedar Land. Its king was one of my allies, though I’d rarely spent time here. The snowy landscape looked the same as the others, which is why I didn’t really notice when someone stepped onto the road until he was directly in front of us.

  I recognized him immediately. I yelled Volusian’s summoning words as I climbed off my horse. By the time my feet touched the ground, I had my gun and silver athame out. Striding forward, I drew the air’s power around me. It built up, tense and strong, waiting only for my command to be released. I heard swords drawn behind me but paid them no heed as I came to a halt before the newcomer.

  It was Kiyo.

  The last time I’d seen him, he’d been trying to kill me. He looked exactly the same, with his tanned skin and chin-length dark hair. A North Face coat covered his well-muscled body. He regarded me levelly and didn’t flinch, not even when I put the blade to his throat.

  “You have no idea what you’ve just walked into,” I said, in a voice that rivaled the cold surrounding us.

  The guards were in position around me now, but it was Dorian who spoke up. “My dear, you might not want to skewer him quite yet.”

  “Why not?” I asked, never taking my eyes off of Kiyo.

  Dorian’s voice was light and easy. “Because I asked him to join us.”

  Chapter 14

  It took a lot of self-control not to turn around and see if Dorian was joking. My memories of past experiences with Kiyo—like when he’d tried to kill me—were strong enough to make me keep my gaze fixed on him.

  For his part, Kiyo remained calm and unmoving, though I didn’t doubt his excellent reflexes would take over in an instant if I attacked. His dark eyes lifted from my face and glanced at something behind me, presumably Dorian.

  “Dorian,” I demanded, “what are you talking about?”

  I heard the sound of feet hitting the ground, and a moment later, Dorian made his way to Kiyo’s side. “Exactly what I said. I’ve told you a number of times that this blight is a concern for all kingdoms affected. As such, Maiwenn wanted to help.”

  “We don’t need her help,” I growled. “We can take care of this ourselves.”

  Dorian tugged his cloak closer. It was violet, with ermine trim. Apparently even dangerous conditions required kingly style. “Maybe. Maybe not. I told Maiwenn she could contribute something, and she suggested the kitsune here since his fox form will make an excellent scout. It seemed reasonable to put differences aside and make a truce for the greater good.”

  It was really hard to know where to start with that. Admittedly, there was some merit to using Kiyo as a scout. He was half kitsune, the son of a Japanese fox nymph. As such, he could shape-shift into a fox at will and would have speed and cold-resistance superior to the rest of us. Useful plan or not, I nonetheless had a few hang-ups about it.

  “‘Put differences aside?’” I exclaimed. “He tried to kill me! Why does everyone seem to forget that all of a sudden?”

  “No one’s forgotten that,” said Dorian. There was a glint of steel in his eyes, despite his lazy tone. It gave me hope that he hadn’t completely lost his mind. “Although, technically he was trying to kill your children. Since they’re not here, you can now rest in relative safety.”

  Kiyo spoke at last. “You have my word, Eugenie. I won’t do anything to hurt you on this journey. I just want to put a stop to this blight.”

  I glanced between each man in disbelief. “Your word means nothing,” I said.

  Rurik walked over to my side, sword in hand. “My lord Oak King is undoubtedly confused by the politics of diplomacy, Your Majesty,” he told me. “Allow me to rectify things by dispatching this miserable creature from the world so that he no longer troubles you and we can be on our way. Decapitation would probably be the most efficient method.”

  It was the politest tone I’d ever heard Rurik use. It was also the only time in memory that Rurik had sided with me against Dorian. Although Rurik had become my servant a long time ago, he’d always behaved as though he was indulging me while reserving his true loyalties for his former king.

  “And I’ll do it if he won’t,” called Jasmine.

  If Kiyo was cowed by these threats, he didn’t show it. He remained where he was, face earnest. The rest of us, having stopped moving, were all feeling the cold, but Kiyo had a staunch look that said he could stand here all day.

  “You’re being foolish, all of you,” chided Dorian. “Not to mention melodramatic.” The irony of Dorian accusing others of being melodramatic wasn’t lost on me. “Varia—her subjugated lands aside—only represents one kingdom. We are many. Don’t make me start quoting well-worn adages about uniting against an enemy and how turning against each other will only lead to our downfall. Clichés bore me, and standing around is making me cold.”

  Kiyo looked at me unblinkingly. “I have every reason in the world to help you lift this blight and none to betray you. I’ll go scout ahead now.” I wasn’t so sure about the betraying part, but before I could make any further protest, Kiyo shape-shifted into a small red fox. In the blink of an eye, he turned around and scampered down the road, easily covering the snowy distance.

  “This is a bad idea,” I warned Dorian.

  “Some would argue our entire plan is a bad idea,” he retorted.

  Our party moved out again, but the earlier energy and good mood were gone. With the exception of Dorian, everyone was either dumbfounded by the turn of events with Kiyo or completely outraged. I saw Rurik trot over to the soldiers from my kingdoms, Keeli and Danil, and murmur something to them that was received with grim nods. I had a feeling they’d either been ordered to never let me out of their sight or to lure Kiyo off alone and decapitate him as soon as the opportunity came. With Rurik, it was hard to say which strategy would appeal to him.

  “Volusian,” I called. The spirit was still lurking about from when I’d summoned him earlier. “You go ahead too— but watch Kiyo. Make sure he really is alone and not meeting up with Willow soldiers.” Volusian vanished.

  Seeing Kiyo stirred up all sorts of troubling feelings. I was angry, absolutely, that I’d somehow just acquired him as an ally, despite my protests. It was also hard not to resent him after everything he’d put me through. He’d tried to kill me and my children. Because of him and Maiwenn, I’d spent the last six months hiding and on the run. Those were things I wasn’t going to forgive. I wasn’t even sure I could temporarily put them aside “for the greater good.”

  At the same time, I remembered that Kiyo and I had once been close. We’d shared a connection. I’d loved him. Nonetheless, I’d had a long time to overcome those sentimental feelings, and they certainly wouldn’t give me a moment’s hesitation if he attacked me again. The other part I kept thinking about was that at the root of all of this, Kiyo was the father of my children. I thought they were wonderful, the most amazing things in either world. Yet, they were half him. What did that mean? Was there good in him? Bad in them?

  None of the above, Eugenie, I immediately realized. We were not our parents. Each individual was his or her own person, no matter the heritage. Jasmine and I were proof of that. Kiyo was in no way a reflection of who Isaac
and Ivy were or who they’d become.

  “You needn’t glare like that,” remarked Dorian, leading his horse up beside me. “What’s done is done.”

  I fixed the aforementioned glare on him. “Yeah, well, it would’ve been nice if you’d maybe given me a heads-up on this. But no. Like always, you withheld information and decided to pull the strings without consulting anyone else.”

  “It was presumptuous, true.” From Dorian, that was a big concession. “But I knew you wouldn’t like it either way. If you’d had notice, you simply would’ve had more time to build up arguments. As it is, he’s joined us and is now off helpfully scouting in a furry, smelly form. By which I mean his fox form. I know it’s hard to tell the difference.”

  I shook my head, amazed at his nonchalant attitude. “And you think that’s it? All is forgiven and he’ll just be cool with me having Storm King’s grandchildren because we’re all united in some super team? That’s naïve.”

  Dorian’s face suddenly hardened. “Equally naïve is the thought that I would carelessly allow him to do anything to you or your children. How many times do I have to convince you of my protection? Do you really think that if he comes back here and attempts to harm one hair on your head, I’ll allow it? Eugenie, if he so much as looks at you in a way I don’t like, Rurik and his conspirators over there won’t have a chance to act because I’ll have long since run that bastard kitsune through myself.” Dorian’s tone astonishingly became light and easy again. “Now then. I wonder where we’ll be making camp tonight.”

  He rode off to chat with the soldiers, leaving me in stunned silence.

  We rode for most of the rest of the day, giving me a lot of time to think about Dorian and Kiyo, both of whom were troubling for entirely different reasons. Although bundled up, I was starting to feel the cold more and more, especially as the sun began getting lower. The horses marched on steadfastly, but we all knew they couldn’t go as long as they normally would in warmer, easier conditions.