Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3)

by Williams, Tess

  Cole didn't shift his stance.

  "You're afraid of the other ones too, aren't you? I saw you ducking away from them before. Is it that you don't like chimera or that you don't like flying?"

  "I don't mind flying," he argued. "I don't mind chimera either."

  "Then come and pet her. She's very soft."

  I couldn't see Cole's face, but I imagined he was frowning and Luffie agreed with me.

  "She'll trust you better if you touch her; I'd prefer it that way."

  Cole's head shifted, so that it was clear his gaze had moved to me.

  I lifted my brows in challenge.

  Luffie sent me an image then, a memory, of me scarcely being brave enough to enter the chimeras' cave, let alone touch her—which led me to believe that she was starting to actually sympathize with Cole.

  Cole was still watching me; now he stepped forward. I measured each movement carefully, each placement of his foot. He had a decided way of making any sort of motion; careful but set. I'd learned easily in the past days of training with him that he'd been completely wrong in the grove outside Byako. He was skilled at many things, the sort of fighter that seemed to find their way naturally. Not as I had been when I'd trained to become a Warrior, so I knew the difference. I imagined that if a rope was placed in front of Cole, he could climb it; or if he was given an unusual weapon, such as a spear, he would adapt and wield it skillfully.

  His fingers slipped in through the fur of Luffie's head, pushing forward between her ears.

  Luffie had meant to growl at him a little, just to tease him, and I'd had no plans to stop her. But she didn't. Instead she kept her gaze on him, sending me clear images.

  "She likes that," I translated, my throat a little thick, then I blinked, looking up at Cole. "She's soft isn't she? As I said? Have you ever felt anything softer?"

  He was still touching her head, though he hadn't really moved his hand. "No, I haven't," he said, looking up at me. I was still petting around her ear absently.

  He let out a little laugh, the sort that said he'd been holding his breath. Even his torso hitched with it.

  "You see how bright her eyes are?" I went on at Luffie's bidding, "Her whole family is like that. Just the same greyish gold. She has six brothers, and she's the only girl. She's considered very desirable among the other chimera."

  Luffie ruffled in approval. I smirked at her.

  Cole's head snapped up almost immediately, and he asked, "What do you mean by that?"

  I blinked, and then I laughed. "Well, what do you think I mean? It's obvious, isn't it? Before the wars started she had males chasing her by the dozens. Finding their match is one of the chimeras favorite things to do. How else should they keep entertained on an island?"

  Cole didn't respond; he looked down, continuing to pet Luffie, flicking some of her few turquoise highlights between his fingers.

  "Mmm, she says she likes to fly just as well," I added, "And she likes battles best. When you ever do get to see her in a battle, you'll be very lucky."

  "Will that be soon?" Cole asked.

  My head tilted. "A battle?"

  Cole nodded.

  I frowned. Luffie sent me a warning. "You'll be informed in plenty of time to prepare; I wouldn't worry about that. Moving the ground forces will take a lot of ferrying, as you can imagine."

  "So no sudden attacks?" Cole asked casually.

  He was watching me again. While Luffie sent me pictures letting me know she didn't like how much I'd said already.

  I shook my head back and forth. "No. No sudden attacks."

  CYRIC:

  It was one of the nights she was gone that I first heard about it. I was just sitting out beside one of the Yanartian fires, minding my own business, in no particular rush to return to a dark room, when two Yanartians started talking about Lucian Denathar, particularly about Akadia, and his place as its heir. Of course then I'd started listening intently—still formulating my own opinions of how he and the Yanartians could use his position best in an advantage against Lox; what information I should lend on my end that would help most, and how.

  Then one of them had mentioned that they didn't see why Lucian couldn't just fly into Akadia and demand the throne straight-off—which I had scoffed at. Then another had commented that it was a pity that Lucian hadn't married the princess of Shaundakul as they'd planned, since it would have helped solidify his position—and to this I'd burst into a fit of coughing. Like, bent over, drawing the attention from everyone around me coughing.

  I'd taken a moment to settle it down, then (determining that I didn't care whether it was a risk of not) I'd gone on to interrogate the two Yanartians. Since Ellia was still gone, I'd spent most of the next day interrogating others about it, just to be sure I had the story straight. From the way the rumors went, it was Ellia that had broken it off, duly insulting the Cirali Warriors with the refusal. But I wasn't much assured by this. Not assured at all—if only because I severely doubted there was any way Ellia would risk insulting the Cirali.

  So when Ellia returned from wherever she'd gone (I didn't know), I'd barely kept from asking about it straight off. Then she'd taken me to meet her chimera, which had been an event in itself. Then she'd left again to go to the higher complexes, and I convinced myself not to say anything about it. That it wasn't my place, that I had no right, that even if she had married him it wouldn't be any of my business to question.

  But late one afternoon, after she'd just finished teaching about formations and all the other recruits were heading off, I'd seen her standing there by herself; putting the last of the swords away, and looking beautiful, and it had just sort of come out.

  "Married?" she repeated, with a dark narrow for me—because that's what I'd just asked her. I'd asked if she was married—or rather mentioned it as if I assumed that she was: all with the hopes of discovering her feelings on the topic.

  "Of course I'm not. Why would you think that?"

  Her tone was vengeful; more than I could have anticipated.

  I lifted my shoulders to show I'd meant no harm by it. "I just heard something when you were gone, about Lucian Denathar..."

  Her narrow deepened—enough so that I regretted opening my mouth up at all.

  Then suddenly she scoffed and dropped her look to an impatient glare. "Cole, you saw Lucian and I on the ferry here for yourself, didn't you? Did it look as if we were married?"

  I hesitated, then let out a slow. "No."

  "And what about my friend Estrid Larke? I introduced you to her, and..." Ellia scrunched her nose viciously at me, "Didn't I tell you that their chimera were a couple anyways?"

  I frowned, shrinking under her anger, not liking to be reminded about chimera and their coupling, and how Luffie was such a desirable one. "I didn't know that meant their owners would be together as well."

  Ellia's face flashed red. "It doesn't!"

  I reared my head back, then raised a brow. "Well, then..."

  Ellia sighed. "Oh, this is all the Warriors' fault. I'll never hear the end of it." She started pacing, and my eyes followed her back and forth, trying to understand her reaction. She stopped suddenly. "Who told you this, anyways? Where did you hear it? I'll have a talk with them myself."

  I blinked a few times, then drawled out slowly, "Ah... everyone sort of... at least down in the lower levels."

  Ellia brought her chest up with a deep inhale.

  "I don't understand," I said honestly. "Does it bother you so much? Isn't it normal enough for two members of royalty to get married?"

  "How would you like it if everyone thought you were married and you weren't?" she countered.

  I frowned, not having considered this for myself. "I suppose it would depend on who was told."

  "Yes, exactly," Ellia agreed, seeming almost surprised to agree, but she dismissed it and went on quickly. "So how do you think Lucian liked it when Estrid was told?"

  She waited for me respond. I thought carefully first. "It was Lucian that ended it t
hen?"

  "I didn't say that," Ellia countered.

  She certainly had my attention; but it was still hard to believe that Ellia really would have offended the Warriors.

  "Look Cole, you might have forgotten, because I've let you meet with Luffie, or because I allow you around me so often, but I am the Princess of Shaundakul. We have our own ways of doing things there. We don't marry for military advantage—no matter what sort of state our country is in. The Cirali Warriors don't decide my future, I do.... And if you're planning to criticize that because of Akadia and Lucian being the heir and everything, well you should know first that it wouldn't make a difference. That isn't the way Akadia works. They value—" She cut off, her voice catching. She looked down, and I was almost sure, though it was hard for me to tell with the darkening sky that her eyes had glossed over. "...their commanders," she finished calmly, still staring down.

  I grimaced. Look now what I'd done. I'd made her cry? And why—so I could find out whether she'd ended something before it had even existed or not? I knew now; what difference did it make. I was the worst.

  "You're a wonderful princess," I said. "I wouldn't ever criticize you. I don't know anything about it. Please don't take anything I've said seriously."

  Ellia's lips lifted a little at the edges. Then her head came up. "You think I have?" she asked.

  I narrowed, not wanting to be hurt by the admittance, but I was. And her eyes were wet; I really had made her cry. I dropped my own head.

  "Most people know better than to try and speak with me, Cole. About such things, or others, about anything.... My heart lies in Akadia, with my people and to see its end, so I don't have very much patience for anyone." She hesitated for a long time. Then she added, not as lightly. "But if you'd like, I was going to ask if you wanted to help me with training. I've been thinking of asking, since I returned from Selket..."

  My heart hammered in my chest—started up so quickly, I wouldn't have thought it was possible it had been calm seconds before. I looked up at her, and she gave me a weak smile.

  There were about a million things that I wanted to say or do just then. But seeing their inevitable ending, I held most of them back.

  But I did give her a nod. And then when her smile grew full, I added, "I would like that very much, princess."

  Chapter Eleven

  ELLIA:

  And so, the following days Cole began to assist me whenever I went down to work with the foreign recruits. We dropped the pretense that he ever did or wanted to train on his own without me. It was as if he'd just become too attached. I clearly realized that Cole was a broken-hearted sort of person—likely caused by the same grief owed to Akadia—that was just the way he behaved; it was rather obvious. And what did I care if that meant he didn't want to be around a wide variety of people. Wasn't that common enough in such a state?

  It was probably for this same reason that I didn't last long before doing what I'd thought of doing every time I'd seen his hand since I'd first touched it on the archery range.

  We were on one of the highest platforms available to foreign recruits, and it was a particularly cold day. The wood had actually iced over and we'd spent most of our preparations clearing them off. Now I was meant to teach the signals, which the Cirali Warriors used to order the ground forces. Cole stood listening to my descriptions, and then midway I reached down and touched his hand. Just one of them, clearly giving him a start, but not pausing to lift it up between us. "It's alright, isn't it?" I asked, putting effort into looking at his face instead of his fingers, so that he wouldn't take offense. "You said before you didn't mind being touched. Wouldn't it be better if you did it more often?"

  I'd gotten better at reading Cole's reactions in our days of training, so I could tell when he narrowed. That wasn't all; I'd looked into his eyes often enough to see that the he was scarred there just as well.

  "I thought I could show you the signals easier this way," I went on—because he was still just frozen, so much so that I smiled.

  Without waiting for his permission, I moved his hand in the right pattern, outlining its meaning, which I thought he would have guessed, we'd already gone over everything before, and he was quick with such things. For my part, I was using the opportunity to focus on the texture of his fingers; I liked it. It was thick and papery, but somehow softer than even regular skin.

  I thought maybe I should tell him this, in case he harbored any concerns about it, so that he might feel more confident to pursue the sort of relationship where he would be touched—and wouldn't the opinion of a princess be at least enough for that?

  ...But something held me back.

  Instead, once I'd finished, I let his hand go with a smile. "We should try it again, shouldn't we? You can pet Luffie again as well, but she's on the mountain so much of the time. I don't mind. Would you like to have a go with the other hand?"

  He didn't respond—except to blink. Once again I was struck by how foolish it had been to think his eyes were shallow. Then he held out the other hand, up, palm forward, in front of him.

  I grinned, pleased with the progress, and we went through the signals again: in the event that Cole happened to suddenly become left-handed, and need to use his right to make the gestures to free up his other for wielding his weapon.

  Somewhere amidst this, still absently moving our hands, I spoke. "Just so you know, Cole... I'll never ask how it happened. But you can tell me, if you ever want to." I wasn't brave enough to look up at him right away; when I was, his eyes were unreadable.

  At least just then, though, he didn't decide that he wanted to tell me.

  .

  The following days, I continued to touch him every so often. Sometimes when I gave out his sword for training, and I would wrap his grip around myself with a smile. Or others, I would pretend that he was doing something wrong with shooting his bow, or climbing, or with his knife, and then straighten his fingers out myself. He seemed to come to expect it, I could tell, because he stopped jumping every time.

  It was only a few hours a day that I did train down below with him, otherwise I still had all of my other duties, with the Warriors, Lucian, Estrid, and the chimera. It seemed like they were two separate worlds, and his not even very real at all. Certainly Luffie knew about him, and I'd mentioned something of it to Minstrel, but I didn't think any of the others knew I'd taken on an assistant. That changed when I, somewhat unintentionally, or at least absentmindedly, offered that he come to help teach with me on the upper levels, just once. And I didn't think anything of it at the time, and he agreed.

  But then the next morning, when I was waiting to meet him on the largest training platform (where I'd given him directions to the day before), Gael caught me up and decided to bring up what I'd expected he would have already before.

  "Hello Ellia. You're here early, aren't you?"

  He said this conversationally, coming to stand beside me.

  I shrugged, leaning back against the railing as I was. "Yes. I've been watching the other trainers. There are so many sharing the space here, I think I might move my group over to another."

  "Well, I think Lodan is about to take his out to fly," he said, gesturing to the old Warrior, who was one of the only first-order Warriors to consistently train with the other second-orders. He stood at the head of a small group, addressing them. The same sort of thing was happening across the rest of the platform. There was even a group sitting down for an early lunch. But my attention was still focused mostly for the entrance from the lower levels.

  "It's changed since the foreigners have come," I said, expecting that Gael had thought I'd forgotten to reply to him.

  "For the better," Gael remarked. "At least for the sake of the war. And that's thanks to you. Don't forget it's because you went to find the White Tigers that they're all here."

  I looked back at him, frowning.

  He was trying to hide it, but the concern in his expression came through obviously.

  "Gael, I'm not going to d
o anything crazy...."

  "Right," he said, "I know that. It's just I think you should remember how valuable you are meeting with the rulers, and with the constellation animals. There's nothing else you could do that would be more helpful."

  "I understand that." I smiled lightly. "I thought I told you to stop worrying. We princesses are fickle. It's not the same as you deciding something."

  "You're not fickle," Gael argued. "I might feel better if you were."

  I laughed.

  Gael eyed me while I looked back across the platform.

  Then he cleared his throat, calling my attention back. "You know Ellia," he started.

  I blinked patiently at him.

  "You've been different since you came back from Byako," he went on.

  "Since Byako? When?"

  "The last time. For the winter festival."

  It only took a few seconds of back-thought, then my posture straightened automatically and I narrowed at him. "What do you mean, different? I can't tell anything like that."

  "Well..." His gaze trailed me up and down, as if he regretted saying anything. "Don't worry, it's not bad," he assured me quickly. "At least I don't think it is..."

  "What do you mean it isn't bad?" I demanded all the angrier.

  Gael raised a skeptic brow at me.

  "Go on now," I said, "You'll have to explain yourself."

  "I won't if it upsets you."

  "Then I'll find out myself," I threatened. "Why not finish what you've started?"

  Gael looked me up and down again, and then he sighed. "Aren't you less anxious about the war?" he asked. "I mean, what I said before, I would have come to talk to you about it sooner, only I wasn't sure that it mattered by then."

  "I'm anxious about the war," I defended. "I'm terribly anxious."

  "I know you are," Gael said, "I'm only saying it's a little less than it was before."

  "Based on what?"

  He tossed a hand up. "Didn't you keep asking me to check the pass to Genbu all the time? but now you haven't."

  "I never asked that."

  "Wanted it. Whichever."