Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3)

by Williams, Tess

  I had my arm back behind my head. And I was musing over these things, and I hadn't even thought of how quick or long Ellia might be in the other room. And I hadn't even minded if she'd come out and seen me like that, because maybe then she'd guess everything. But upon hearing the door open, and then looking over, it was me myself, that had the shock, bolting upright, and somehow hitting my head on the bed-frame, and my back, and even getting to my feet beside the bed as well: all at once.

  If she noticed this strange reaction, she was too kind to say. She wasn't even looking at me. She was looking downwards, at the floor, her bag dangling from her hand, but then the rest of her. Her hair wasn't braided, not at all. Not even that loose side braid she'd been wearing for the past weeks. It was fully loose, with just the top braided in two pieces to hold it back. And then for the rest of her, she was wearing a dress. Yes, truly a dress. A dress of Shaundakul. It was maroon, like pink or maroon, or mauve or something, in color. But it was metallic as well. And it wasn't jeweled, but it was laced, around the neck, and it was bunched at the wrists, and it was gobs and gobs of fabric coming down—so that she looked like a little girl again, over-encumbered by too much satin.

  No, she didn't look like a little girl. Little girl's didn't hold their chin like that, and it wasn't so sharp and soft at once, and their eyes weren't so careful to look at nothing, and they weren't so full of meaning. She'd said to me, as Cole, though I never knew if she'd realized it when I'd been Cyric, I supposed not. But she'd said that my eyes reflected different colors, like the torches in Genbu, but hers were just the opposite. They were always turquoise. They were always the same, constant thing, never changing, in light or without it. In colors, or in greyness. Her eyes simply were, and she did not look like a little girl. And she flicked those eyes up to me.

  Her pulse raced in her neck. And mine was racing too. But she looked as if she were trying hard not to make any sort of expression. Her hand, tightening around her bag, she swallowed, eyes still on me. Then she said, "It's not for you," she told me. Then, blinking once, "It's for Cyric."

  And it passed through my mind. Certainly it did, looking at her like that. It passed through my mind to say, It is for me. I'm Cyric.

  But I didn't. And if I didn't then and there, like that,... I felt absolutely certain that I never would be able to.

  ELLIA:

  I meant to go to the Scholar's tower next, even to the granted temple, to look at the constellations, even to the libraries, even to visit that place where the Scholar's and their wards lived and slept, that room of Cyric's that he'd shared before joining the army, with another one of the boys. I meant to go then to visit the royal chambers of my father, even his personal dining room, where Cole and I might stop to eat the lunch we'd been neglecting. Where I might convince him how I should make those my chambers, since they were more accessible to help, should I be needed for anything.

  But it was like a clock, wound, then turning on its own, that my feet carried me straight on from my room, even with Cole in tow, up and up, higher and higher, across open-aired causeways where I would point out sites of the mountain, or towers and their names, or buildings far below. But up and up, until finally we were winding a final tower, and then we were walking to the center of a high wall—where it was bridged between two towers. This was the highest wall of Uldin Keep. Behind the snow-capped mountains seemed near enough to touch, and truly the level where the snow began wasn't high above this elevation. Clouds loomed, not only above, but you could see them across the trees, the tops of which weren't so very far below us. Those trees were so very beautiful and large, but from here, they looked to be only a regular sort of forest, rich green and pine. The forest floor was endlessly below. All the towers and levels of Uldin Keep were there below to be seen. And the sky, it was peaking across in front of us, with a little bit of blue—as if it had gone that way just for me, just for this moment.

  Cole had set down our bags, both of which I'd let him carry now—back by the door. Now he had come to stand beside me, leaning against the front of the stone wall. The pillar that rose up, at its center, was just there beside us, so that I was truly standing in that place where I last had with Cyric. And so, that had been the full reason I had come. This was the last place I had been, before everything about our lives forever had changed. And Cole could not understand it, but his presence wasn't something upsetting, at least not until he stretched too far over the wall, looking down.

  "Will you be careful," I reprimanded him, tapping at his arm.

  He looked over at me, as if, for all anyone could think, he hadn't even know I'd been standing there. His arms were stretched taut as he'd been pushing himself up to look over. They were all covered in black of course. But that way his eyes had went when I'd first come out to my room, in my dress. They went that way again. And so his eyes did, down and up and over my hair.

  I narrowed at him, even not minding so much. Since there was something about that silliness about dresses and hair, being possible, even now, that made it easier to be here, and not so melancholy. "You know I can see every bit of what your eyes are doing, when they are, Cole," I told him.

  His gaze moved back to my face.

  I nodded my head, to his still unsafely extended leaning over the edge. "Did you hear what I said at all?"

  Something cleared about his gaze. He glanced from me to the wall. Then he let his arms loose, to drop back beside me. There was his throat clearing a little. But the wind had begun to shift enough to rustle my hair, so that I had to move it back from my face, to stare out again.

  Cole meanwhile, put his left arm up to his shoulder—as if he were rubbing something there around it. But in truth, he'd gone very quiet, and seemingly morose. I thought he might suggest that we eat up here, or at least ask why I'd come, but he hadn't spoken more than a word since we'd come. In fact, I wasn't sure he'd spoken a single word at all.

  "It's high as Minstrel's tales have said," he finally spoke. He was looking down again, but not leaning over. And I was slightly exasperated that he'd said something, only just when I'd thought that he wasn't speaking at all.

  "It's not so high as Genbu."

  "It's much steeper than Genbu."

  "So, what do you think of it, then? Is it beautiful?"

  He took a minute to answer. His foot shifted, beside me, that closest one. Even his hand, stretched down towards it; it was the strangest motion, but I ignored it, crossing my arms, and breathing peacefully. It was not so cold today; that was a blessing. "I think everything about Shaundakul, is beautiful," he said.

  I bit my lip. In my mind, I thought back through mine and Cyric's last moments here. Not those spent in the cold that night; those, even though I'd been so close to him, I didn't like to remember. And not the way he'd held my ears shut to keep me from hearing the dragon's screams either. I thought of him sitting there, leaning back against the pillar, sharpening his knife. And I thought of him teasing me about my knowledge of the battle. And I thought of him telling me that I should need to find someone to marry me before I could be queen. And I thought of us laughing, and then him helping me up to the ledge of the wall, beside him.

  It was here, all on my own, my arms began to lift me up on top of it.

  "What are you doing?" Cole said. Suddenly and fiercely. So much so, that I began to laugh and had to drop back, imagining that he thought I meant to kill myself. When I got a look at his wide eyes, I was sure.

  "Oh, Cole, please. Don't be foolish. I only mean to sit there."

  His how body dropped with a sigh.

  "Don't you think it's backwards that I can tell just by your voice, you think I mean to tkill myself."

  "Don't you think it's backwards that from your demeanor I can't tell whether you might mean to kill yourself, or sit up on a wall?"

  "Yes, I think you're rather unperceptive, and I'm the just the opposite."

  "Comes from the one who swears by never wearing dresses again, then puts one on and lets her hair down, all
at random."

  I scoffed harsh, echoing the word of random. Could something I had planned for months in my mind have been called random.

  "Only, let me help you then," he said. "Look, come by this pillar."

  "I don't want to sit by the pillar. I want to sit just here."

  I started to push myself up on my arms again—to the center of the wall; I'd forgotten how difficult such things could be in dresses, but really I was much stronger than I had been.

  Only Cole must not have been aware of this, for no sooner had I stretched one leg up, then he'd jumped full clear himself, to the top of the wall—and on his feet! Hunched over, so that I was stuck, yelping, mid-climb. "Be careful you," I shouted at him.

  He waved me off, even grabbing for my arms, to help pull me up.

  "Too much tree-climbing has sent you mad," I muttered to him.

  And only then had I gotten to sitting. And only then, once I had, did he carefully, watching me and not himself, drop both legs out, past the wall. "I know fine what would send me mad, and I intend to make sure to see it doesn't come about."

  I didn't have much of a second, hearing his short catch of breath, to imagine he meant my falling—not that it was very subtle — then he was stretching his hand over my dress, straightening it out, and I held my own breath, and felt my chest cave in. Because Cyric always did just this very thing, after he'd helped me up to climb. So I went very still, till Cole had finished—though it seemed an utterly absent motion to him—and I pretended not to notice then that Cole was sitting where Cyric had. Or that it meant anything at all. I looked down at the empty sky and forest instead. But I did not imagine the battle; I only saw it as it was now, silent, and sun-rayed, and peaceful.

  "Do you know, when I was here last, I was watching the battle below, with the goblins attacking, and Akadian's betraying us, and all of that?"

  Cole was very silent. I didn't mind. He seemed to know just the way to respond, for there was so much of my own memories that I liked to sort though, but I liked also, to be able to speak things aloud to him.

  "It must have been strange."

  "It was very strange," I replied. "No, it was worse. It was confusing. It was..." horrifying? I did not want to bring up such things. Instead, I smiled—even at myself, I smiled. "Did you know that Cyric was here with me? That's how he came to be in Akadia, with me safely."

  Cole did not reply again. At least, I thought he wouldn't, but after a pause, "I had assumed as much."

  "Maybe you're not so very unperceptive," I retorted. Then, seeing a bird cross the sky, I spoke, "He wasn't pleased about it all. You're the same, aren't you Cole? As a man, you wouldn't have liked to be left out of the battle. You'd hated it when you heard of us going to Karatel without you. But you know... it was my fault that Cyric hadn't been able to fight."

  Cole looked over at me. I glanced at him, but only a moment, then back, tucking my hands under the sides of my legs. "I asked my father, specially. I never told Cyric, but... I thought it was a cruel thing afterwards, when I saw how grim he was. I thought he might not have minded that he got to stay with me, and then... no really, maybe the true reason was that I was afraid for him to go to fight... Or... no, maybe even that I could tell he didn't like to kill. But it was all useless; he wasn't pleased."

  "I wouldn't say it was useless, Ellia," Cole replied. "He needed to be here, with you. If he hadn't been... after all that had happened.... That would have been terrible."

  "Yes, well, it's all too late to change now...." My mind wandered again. And Cole was silent again. He leaned back, at some point, on his arms, his fingers wrapping behind the edge of the wall, but I ignored this. Then, though... it was so tempting, so similar they were, to think, just then, just now, just like this, to ask Cole a question, that he might know the answer to. The same sort of question, I'd asked before to find Cyric's opinion, and hadn't he been fairly accurate, it seemed to me, at least.

  "Cole, may I tell you something, and then ask something of you?"

  "That's a strange way to put a question."

  "It's a strange sort of something to tell."

  It wasn't a second, that he paused before going on. "You know that you can ask me anything, Ellia. And I will always do it."

  I tried not to smile, and it was simple too—since my throat had gone tight from thinking of my question. "It was here, just before the battle... just before we realized that things were going amiss. It was Cyric and I. And I... I had said something about how I would be able to go to Yanartas, on my dragon, once I became queen. And Cyric had said something about how I would need to be married first, before I could be a queen or go to Yanartas."

  "That's the way it works, isn't it? I think that was a smart thing to say."

  I pressed my lips, disapprovingly, for Cole's sake, and all his strange commenting, and unsubtle alluding. But then, it was on to my question, that I was too focused. "So then, though, we had gone on to speak of something else, and he had helped me up onto the wall beside him, but very suddenly he said: "I've got an idea." Just that simply. And so I'd replied, "For what?" And he'd replied, just this very way: "To get you to Yanartas."" I made sure, to make my tone, just as severe as Cyric's had been, so that Cole would get the right idea. And I repeated that last part twice, strictly, to make sure he had it right.

  The next part, I remembered, I'd been about to ask him, what he meant, but then the wyverns had first appeared, and we'd been terribly distracted. For Cole, I said, "We were interrupted just then, so I never got to ask him what it meant." I smiled, weakly. "Even all those times, I could have, when I was with him in Akadia, I didn't, even though... I'm not sure he would have answered me right—and that even if he'd remembered it, but..."

  Cole was watching me carefully. I knew that, though I wasn't looking his direction. But it was still a good sense, to have with my rambling, for it made it seem, that he really might have a clue as to what it all meant. I looked over at him, seeing the grey of his eyes. "So I was wondering, if you might know what he meant. Because..." I felt my cheeks turning red. "It's probably foolish, but of course, I thought that he might have meant to ask me to marry him just then..." My voice trailed off. And I felt a smile tugging at my heart, if not my features, and a giddiness, at just the idea.

  But Cole... my, but I was not sure he'd ever looked so sad. I felt grieved, instantly, even feeling it cross my features like a switch. I hadn't felt guilty over my feelings for Cyric, and lacking ones for him, since the war had ended, since I'd been so very clear with him about what I would not give him. But, now here, why did he suddenly have to look so grim even as to move my heart, though I shouldn't want or think to look guilty at all. I brought my hand up and waved it quickly. "You don't have to answer."

  "No, no. That's not—"

  "Forget it, Cole." I shook my head. "It's a backwards thing to ask."

  "It's not backwards. I should know. I only..."

  "You do know?" I asked, looking to him directly. My eyes had gone wide. I couldn't resist the hopefulness there. His eyes weren't wide, they were serious; making me even more sure he thought he knew. "I mean, you think you do?" I corrected.

  "Cyric was an idiot, Ellia," he said.

  I blinked. My eyes were still wide. I could barely feel the wind there. Then I frowned. "Does that mean, that you think, he didn't mean... that..."

  Cole looked so sad, and grim, and serious, still. And even with his fingers tensed on the stone, so that I was sure, he did mean that he thought, Cyric hadn't meant that at all. What had it been? Another teasing joke? Another pestering trick? I looked out at the sky and clouds, thinking to myself, that Cole shouldn't be the one to know about it, at all, that Cyric might have very well, meant to ask me to marry him, and I knew it best whether he did....

  Only that was the thing about it. If I thought of him, and all that he was. Not all he became, but who he was then... I was sure that he'd only just been teasing.

  "He should have been asking, that, at least," Cole sa
id.

  Was it with such an encouraging tone, as if to make it all better, just by that? Maybe that would have worked more fairly, if he wasn't gone; it wasn't as if I would have another chance at a proposal. It would never come. I looked to eye Cole. "Can't you have thought to lie to me, a little?"

  His eyes went dark again. He looked shocked and sad, both at once. "I didn't want to—"

  "He's dead. So you could have said, "of course that's what he meant." And I would have felt a little happier about it. Would that have been so hard."

  "I wouldn't think you wanted me to lie to you. I try not to..."

  I frowned at Cole. But then suddenly, there was the wind, and fresh icy air, or Shaundakul, and my annoyance was gone from me. It wasn't fair to Cole, certainly, to ask him to lie to me, or to expect that he might know when to.

  "Oh, well, I suppose I'll have the chance at dozens more of proposal, before my days are ended. I'll just pretend my favorite of them, was from him."

  Cole went quiet. And it was almost tangible the denseness, like a shadow, which came around him. I tried to pretend, it hadn't been punishing him at all that I'd been intending to do by that last comment, and maybe it hadn't, but now he seemed so troubled by it, that I couldn't be sure of myself, what I'd meant to do to him. "You won't accept them though," he pointed out.

  I looked at him, smiling. "You say that as if you're so absolutely positive, as if it's a fact."

  "Well, haven't you made that much clear to me? You just said so this afternoon."

  "So, that suites me now. But there's no telling.... Perhaps some prince will come from the far west. Perhaps from the east, and I'll fall in love with him. Or perhaps I'll marry Minstrel."

  "Minstrel!" Cole retorted.

  He'd jerked so sharp, that I'd half reached for him, fearing he would fall, and all the while bursting into laughter for how it had upsetted him. I meant next to ask him about his past, for once and for all, and to quit teasing him, so first I said, after my laughing had slowed. "Cole, I've told you over and over. I have no plans for being unioned. Not ever, alright?" Seeing his staring, which was easy to imagine accompanied by either a pained wince, or a dropped jaw, or something even more incredulous, I added, "And don't go on, just now, about how unioned isn't an official term, I told you here in Shaundakul, that it—" I blinked once. My last words sounded distant from me, so I tried repeating them, "that it... that it..."