They both knew that a happy Thanar meant two things—blood or war. He was already covered in the former, and they were preparing for the latter. So this level of excitement had to be for something on an entirely brand-new level of human suffering. Mainly Ciardis Weathervane’s suffering.
“Out with it,” Ciardis said, rubbing her brow and wishing away the intense headache.
“Me,” Thanar said, standing tall and lifting his wings proudly like a cat who’d just ate a canary.
“You,” said Sebastian and Ciardis simultaneously with varying levels of incredulity.
“Me,” Thanar repeated. He was clearly ready for them to heap praises on him.
Ciardis, for her part, sat back on an empty bench behind her with a dazed look of incredulity on her face. She wasn’t sure if it was the blazing sun or the astounding assertion that Thanar had just made, but she was feeling faint. And she never felt faint. That was for insipid court ladies with nothing better to do than pretend to have vapors and eat bon-bons. That was her mother.
That wasn’t Ciardis Weathervane.
So when she felt this wave of dizziness come over her, she knew that they were in serious trouble.
Ciardis opened and closed her mouth several times. There were many things she wanted to say, almost none of which were appropriate for mixed company. So she kept her mouth closed until she could voice something that went beyond a tirade of abuse. Something that at least sounded coherent.
Sebastian, however, had no problem laying into the daemoni prince in her place.
She listened appreciatively as he called Thanar everything from a “bat-winged idiot” to a “dandy with the aptitude of a louse.” Ciardis wasn’t sure what the last reference referred to, but she enjoyed it.
When the Emperor of Algardis was done pacing and scowling, she stood up with a harsh look plastered on her face. But she kept her voice in check. She had to. The entire courtyard was already looking at them askance. Putting fuel to the fire was not how Ciardis wanted to end this conversation, even if she desperately wanted to wring Thanar’s neck in the process.
So calmly she said, “I don’t think this is going to work for us, Thanar.”
“What do you mean?” Thanar asked with a mild pout. He didn’t seem too keen on the fact that she wasn’t as excited as he was about this new development.
Ciardis gave him an exasperated look. “What if he was lying?”
Thanar began to pick what looked like dried flesh out from underneath his fingertips. “I tortured him thoroughly. Mentally. Physically. There were no lies left in him.”
She shook her head in despair. “We had a plan, Thanar. A plan we were supposed to follow closely.”
Perhaps finally sensing the tired desperation in her eyes, Thanar spoke in a convincing voice. “Don’t worry, Golden Eyes. It will work.”
Sebastian rubbed his face and finally dropped his hand in defeat. “You seem awfully convinced of this.”
“Because I’m right,” Thanar snapped—apparently tired of being questioned.
“Fine,” Ciardis said with lips thinned. “Let’s move on.” She turned to Sebastian and asked hesitantly, “The loyalists?”
“Gathering in the atrium in less than an hour’s time,” he said slowly. “We’ll leave tonight. Since the kith can get us there in an instant, it’s better to emerge in darkness. We’re less likely to run into detractors under night’s cover.”
“Detractors?” Thanar said dryly. “You mean the people who want to take off your head for murdering the man they think is your own father?”
Sebastian shot him a glare full of daggers. “I’d remind you that it was you who dealt the death blow and are the most likely candidate to be killed off first.”
“I’d like to see them try,” scoffed Thanar.
Sebastian rolled his eyes but said nothing more as his majordomo approached and he went off to sign more decrees.
Finding nothing to do in the courtyard, as she wasn’t really going to pack for war, Ciardis had the strange feeling that whether she wanted it to or not, it’d be over far sooner than she thought. Thanar had gone off on another of his missions. As it got closer and closer to the time of the gathering of loyalists in the atrium, she felt like ants were crawling under her skin.
So she went to find something to take her mind off things and talk to Sebastian instead of just pacing around like a madwoman.
When Ciardis found him, she smiled. He looked like an emperor should. Thoughtful and concerned as he reviewed a document in his hands, the world a distant memory and all attention focused on whatever it was he was reading.
She walked up and leaned against the banister. “You know, you never asked how my day went.”
In a serious voice, still focused on the paper inches from his eyes, he said, “What was it that you went to do?”
“Give up our most-prized war craft to the opposing side,” she said in a deliberately opaque way—curious to see if it would catch his attention.
And it did. Sebastian’s eyes snapped upward and he looked at her in astonished horror.
She flicked a smile at him and teased, “Don’t have a stroke. I only did what we discussed.”
He raised a questioning eyebrow.
She continued, “I delivered the Kasten ship into proper hands. Dragon hands.”
He let out an audible sigh of relief. “You know,” Sebastian said slowly as he lowered the sheaf of paper gripped in his hands, “I never thought I’d be so relieved to see the back end of something.”
“What?” Ciardis asked innocently. “The ship or the ambassador?”
He chuckled and looked out toward the open waters while the wind mussed his hair. “Both.”
She nodded in understanding, then said, “You know, for once…I think we actually won.”
Sebastian looked back at her. “How’s that?”
“She got the ship, we got instantaneous travel,” Ciardis said dryly with a wink. “I think that’s a fair trade.”
Sebastian gazed out to sea. “You know, wife-to-be, I do believe you have the right of it.”
They smiled at each other, then looked out at the ocean together, content. Ciardis shaded her eyes with an upraised hand.
The dragons thought they had the only mode of transportation.
It would be quite amusing if and when they found out how wrong they were.
Instantaneous travel far beat out weeks of travel by sea. They just had to figure out a way to ensure the kith contingent shared their prized abilities.
With some select weeding of blood-hungry nobles in the countryside and a promise of a trade pact in the kiths’ favor, Ciardis Weathervane had the feeling they just might be amenable to a discussion on the subject.
For now, though, she just wanted to bask in the glow of a small victory. Not one for the record books, but noteworthy in her eyes all the same.
“We have to savor our victories,” Sebastian said, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her. “Otherwise we’ll be eaten alive by self-doubt and recriminations.”
Ciardis ducked her head in acknowledgment. “You’re right. I can’t say I feel too good about what’s to come next.”
Sebastian snorted. “I don’t think any of us do after that ceremony we witnessed. Speaking of which, it’s about that time to greet the loyalists and prepare them for their duties.”
In a small voice, she asked, “Do you think…do you think they’ll understand? What it is that we’re asking of them?”
“That we want them to die not once but twice for us?” Sebastian said, turning toward her with haunted eyes.
Ciardis gave a small nod to confirm his words, almost afraid to speak it aloud. She felt herself being haunted by ghosts already that weren’t there. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like when she was actually faced with the remnants of her friends and her family all together. It had been heartbreaking enough to make personal journeys to see those who mattered most to her. Now, seeing the fire of hate in not just one s
et of eyes but many at once was threatening to cut her off at the knees.
Fortunately Sebastian understood her trepidation as well as he did his own.
“It’ll be all right,” he said quietly while tucking her comfortably into his side.
A pained grimace crossed Ciardis’s face. “I wish I could be as sure of that as Thanar is of the righteousness of his kill.”
Sebastian chuckled. “I think we all wish we were a little bit like the daemoni prince.”
Changing the subject, Ciardis said abruptly, “When we agreed to this plan did you imagine the depths of pain in our friend’s eyes when we first spoke to them? I didn’t. I thought there would be anger. Fury. But this?”
“No,” said Sebastian somberly. “I think it’s safe to say none of us did.”
Ciardis believed him. He was a good and kind man. A leader to his people who would do what needed to be done, but kind nonetheless. In whatever he did. Thanar on the other hand. Ciardis suspected he knew…and he approved. Sometimes she wondered if it was the daemoni prince’s mercilessness that would get them through this war. More than leadership. More than kindness. Apathy was starting to have its place in her heart. At least apathy couldn’t hurt you. Apathy wouldn’t have you soaking your pillow with tears at night and waking up with puffy eyes either.
Drawing herself out of deep thoughts, Ciardis sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “What are we supposed to do now?”
The question was rhetorical, of course. They’d been planning their concerted actions for a week now.
But still he answered, “We go. We greet them. We honor their sacrifice. And we prepare for our own.”
Because he knew, and she knew, that no matter the outcome of this ritual, even if the ley lines opened up and swept the hordes from the North out of the land and out of this realm for good, they still had to face a goddess.
Mortal to immortal.
Man to woman.
And if they didn’t win, may the gods help the people of the Empire of Algardis. Because Ciardis, Thanar, and Sebastian were all that stood between them and certain destruction.
20
Ciardis took a deep breath. One of many. To her pleasant surprise, Sebastian didn’t walk ahead of her. Instead he took pride of place by her side. Looking to her left, she couldn’t help but beam. He didn’t really look very imperial at the moment. His clothes were rumbled, he had a smudge of ink on his collar, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in two days. But he was there, by her side.
When she looked to the right, Thanar stood with arms crossed and had an irate glare plastered on his face, but he too was there. The only reason she knew he wanted to be there was the fact that he’d given her a wink before resolutely staring straight ahead at the individuals seated theater-style in front of them. And that was all right by her, because the look he bore was par for the course, but the soft emotions in his eyes as he reached down and took her right hand confidently in his were…new.
Ciardis sighed and reached out blindly for Sebastian’s, as well. She needed all the support she could get, and he didn’t fail her.
Hands held. Head high. Ciardis Weathervane walked into the crosshairs of the toughest crowd she would ever face. Her friends. Her family. The people she belonged with and the people she had betrayed…all in order to do the right thing.
The only thing that seemed to matter at the moment however, was the simmering anger that she could just feel boiling to the surface. No one looked happy to see her, except weirdly enough—Caemon. Her twin. The man who’d called her a derogatory word and kept walking. She wasn’t too sure how happy she was to see him after that encounter however.
Still she swallowed deeply, slipped her hands out of her bondmates’, and clasped her palms flat against each other in front of her face. She did this while standing in the center of the room and the audiences gaze. She knew it looked like she was praying and she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to dissuade them of the notion; she just needed a few seconds more to gather her wits about her.
As the silence dragged on but the anger didn’t lessen, Ciardis decided it was time. For her mea culpa. For her plea. For her request for leniency. It didn’t escape her notice that just as her mother had been on trial for crimes she hadn’t committed, she too was on trial. Except she had done what they had accused her of. She had brought these five back to life. The people sitting behind them in rows upon rows of bench seating were just observers, people who didn’t matter in the grand scheme of this plan. Oh, they would be essentially to win this war, yes. But tonight? Tonight it was just Ciardis Weathervane and the five people who sat before her.
She looked at each one.
To the east sat Lord Meres KinSight on a plain bench, his arm wrapped tight around his wife and his face pinched in pain.
Next to him, leaning into his strength, was Terris Kithwalker. Her eyes wore the haunted look of a person who hadn’t slept and never would again.
Caemon, her twin brother, sat two rows up and to the left of those two. His arms were angled flat against his legs as he stared down at her with an unceasing resentment in his eyes.
Maradian sat in the very far front, on the ground actually. Still bound in chains with two guards at his side and two guards at his back whose only job it was to keep halberds lowered so that the points touched the soft flesh of his throat. That didn’t stop the crazy grin that consumed his face—far from it.
And Vana…Vana sat hunched in a chair as she rode through a bout of pain. This time it was Christian by her side, his focus only on her and Vana’s focus and slightly approving although pained smile—on Ciardis Weathervane.
It was that smile that gave Ciardis the strength to speak up when little else would have.
So she spoke. And they listened.
Hesitantly at first but gaining speed as she went, Ciardis said, “You all know why you’re here. You’ve known since that first meeting of court officials months and months ago. When Sebastian and I came back with a message from the North—the blutgott is coming. We warned you. We warned everyone. Some heeded our message. Others did not.”
There were uncomfortable shifts throughout the room but no one interrupted.
And she didn’t waver. “Now that goddess is here and we have one way of defeating her. A way that could just as well blow up in all of our faces…kill us all.”
Ciardis heard Sebastian stir by her side. He didn’t know where she was going with this new more depressing slant but that was quite all right, because she was only mildly confident she was either.
“Still this is our chance,” she said, her voice rising. “Our chance to fight back. Our chance to throw the goddess’ armies back through the holes in the realm and put them where they belong.”
“And what about the goddess herself?” said a voice from the back room.
Ciardis peered up to see a man who had been a member of the conclave. A person who had been present when she had first appeared atop that table.
“You’ve told us how we’ll defeat her minions,” he continued. “But the main threat herself will be just behind them.”
Ciardis nodded and licked her lips. “That is why this attack is being held on multiple fronts. We’ll be activating the ley lines with the help of the dead loyalists, but it is we—”
“We who?” Terris interrupted with an undercurrent of anger throughout her tone.
Ciardis faced her head on and said, “Sebastian, Thanar, and I—who will take the goddess down.”
“How?” said multiple voices in a clamor.
This time it was the daemoni prince who spoke as he strode forward angrily, “Never mind your little heads about that. Do your part and you won’t have to worry about battling the she-creature head on. But keep up this obstinacy which we have faced ever since returning to these courts and we will all fail.”
His last words weren’t given in a shout, they were a bellow. Words that said anyone else with inane questions like, ‘How do you plan to defeat a
goddess?’ should take them up with him.
As Ciardis Weathervane suspected. No one seemed up to the challenge.
Grumbles continued, but words did not.
Hands spread out in a beseeching gesture, Ciardis asked the room at large, “Do you all know your assignments?”
There were nods and agreement throughout the room. She wasn’t surprised. One of the meetings she hadn’t been present at had been between Sebastian and key conclave members. He had divvied up key ley line connection points and there were already groups of mages from all sectors who were supposed to travel alongside each dead loyalist. A good three-dozen for every loyalist by her estimation and double that for Maradian, as he was the control key to unlock the power that resided in the ley lines as well as was well-known to have the interesting habit of trying to betray them at every turn. Ten of his accompanying force alone was there to magically keep him from working any tricks, or worse—talking to any citizens who would question why the man they currently knew as emperor was in chains. After all, word traveled fast, but not that fast. Especially to the remote communities. There could very well be pockets of citizens loyal to the crown and therefore Maradian who’d ask questions later and attack first on his word.
With a tired sigh, Ciardis said, “Good, that’s good.”
Then a new voice spoke up and it was none other than that of her twin brother.
As he raised his hand in sarcasm, Ciardis watched with narrowed eyes as he said, “Well, I have a question.”
Personal conversations around and behind him stopped. He had the room’s full attention.
“Go ahead,” Sebastian said stepping forward—deliberately taking the focus off a lady companion whose hands were suddenly shaking.
Swiftly grasping her hands together at her waist, Ciardis waited and wondered what her brother had to say. Truth be told, she hadn’t had time to see him and she hadn’t wanted to make time. They may have been flesh and blood, but just like in her mother’s presence, Ciardis had reservations about the fact that made him family.
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