“Well—”
“Is it true?” She cut me off. “Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
She straightened, truly flabbergasted. “When Danu grows pink roses, Dafne!”
30
“What? But you said yesterday that—”
“I know what I said.” She waved it off. “And I’m sorry I interrupted you again, but I can’t listen to this foolishness.”
“My promises to you are not foolishness!”
“No.” She said it quietly, her face softening. “They’re not. But I release you from them, regardless. I also release you from your vows of fealty, which you can renew—if you wish—as Queen of Nahanau, ally of the High Throne. I even wrote it down, as I know you’re fond of records.” She fished out a scroll and set it in front of me. I didn’t touch it.
“Why?”
“Dafne.” She reached over to touch my hand. “Do you remember what I asked you that day, before we got word of Kral’s forces?”
“You asked me what I wanted out of life and I said to serve you and the High Throne.”
“And that you never met anyone you liked enough to marry. Now you have.” Her smile broadened at my consternation. “Not that being married to Nakoa will be a picnic. Fortunately you have experience managing irascible and obstinate monarchs. You’re perfect for the job.”
“But . . . Ursula.” I found myself gripping her hand. “I can’t be queen.”
“Why not? You’ll probably be a better one than I am. I was watching you. You’re much more calm and level-headed. Bringing in the dragon was a stroke of brilliance. It intimidated even me.”
I laughed at the thought of anything intimidating her. Here I’d thought she’d been seeing how woefully wrong for it I was.
“I’m not a princess, though.”
“So?” She shrugged. “Uorsin was a sailor. If it would make you feel better, I’ll adopt you officially as my sister and give you the title. I should have done so already, but I’ve been busy. I did declare Astar heir, however, which should make you happy to cross off your list.”
“Now you’re just teasing me.”
“Well . . . yes.” Her grin took on a mischievous glint. It struck me then, how much happier she’d become. No longer so exhausted or worn down by care. It helped to have Uorsin gone, yes, but also Harlan had done that for her. This is what lovers do for each other. “About your endless lists, not about you or Astar.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You’re welcome. Now, go make up with Nakoa.”
“That might not be easy.”
“Never is, when you wound someone who loves you. All you can do is be honest, try to make up for it. Groveling helps. Danu knows I have.”
I sighed, surveying the texts strewn before me. “I suppose, if I’m not leaving with you, this puzzle can wait.”
“What do you work on?”
I chewed my lip. “I can’t really tell you.”
She laughed. “You and Andi, with all your magic secrets.”
Something niggled at me. Andi and the Tala. “Do you remember, when we arrived in Annfwn’s cliff city and that elder in their council spoke to you? She said, ‘Annfwn did not expect to feel your feet upon her stones.’ ”
Ursula nodded slowly. “I recall thinking at the time it was unusual wording. Of course, Common Tongue wasn’t her native language.”
“This thing I’m working on—how much did Zynda tell you about what happened when we arrived?”
“I made her tell me in detail, several times, before I let her leave for Annfwn,” Ursula replied in a dry tone.
Poor Zynda. “My feet got injured because Nakoa insisted on taking off my stockings and I wasn’t used to going barefoot. Something happened when I stepped off the dock and my feet touched the soil of the island. And Nakoa said something to me this morning like that, that if I wished to part from him, I would walk onto your ship and my feet would never touch the soil of my home again.”
“Ouch,” she commented.
“I told you he’s unhappy with me.”
She smiled ruefully, a mirror of mine, and we shared a strange camaraderie in that moment. “He’ll forgive you,” she said. “I’ve done much worse to Harlan and he manages to forgive me.”
You promised I would be first with you, but I am not. He’d been right about that and I wasn’t at all sure how that could be forgiven. “The point is, I think this magic is all interrelated. These documents are from another island or set of islands that the Nahanauns call N’andana. There are similarities to the written Tala language, so I think they’re related, but this one is far more sophisticated, much more complex than the Tala have. Probably much older. In fact, the Tala language might be a relic or offshoot of N’andanan.”
“And you think the cultures are connected?”
“Yes. If N’andana still exists. See, I think that Nahanau, N’an-dana, and Annfwn were all interconnected long ago. I think I share common ancestors with Nakoa—which has to do with the things I can’t tell you—because of the relationships reaching from the islands, to N’andana, to Annfwn and my Mailloux ancestors. There’s something in that magic that has to do with our feet touching the soil, connecting us to the land. I know it sounds crazy.”
“No crazier than the other magics we’ve witnessed. So why haven’t we heard of N’andana?”
“I don’t know. When the magic barrier was erected around Annfwn, it cut off N’andana from Nahanau, so it seemed to them that it disappeared. The people here greatly suffered from the loss of magic.”
“Wait, are you saying this N’andana might be inside the barrier?” She looked thunderstruck. “I may have yet more people to feed? Danu stacks the challenges deep indeed.”
I gave her a weak smile. “We haven’t had much time to talk. Did the Dasnarians get through the barrier?”
“We don’t know. They got to it, after some minor troubles; then Zynda traveled to Ordnung to report on your . . . felicitous union.” She smiled with a wry twist of her narrow lips. “She was anxious about Jepp, however, so she went ahead while we rode to Annfwn. Then she, Andi, and Rayfe, along with some others, set off to meet the Hákyrling, with Zynda guiding them to the spot. They left a ship waiting for us not far from the cliff city.”
“And that wasn’t the plan in the first place, because Rayfe didn’t want us to know he had ships.”
Ursula curled her lip. “Apparently a whole navy, the wily shape-shifter. We’ll discuss that more, I can promise.”
“You know, if I stay here with Nakoa—”
“Which you will. Don’t pass up a chance for real happiness.”
“But I won’t be able to go to Dasnaria to unearth the information you need.”
“Jepp will be there. I sent instructions with Zynda for her.” She cocked her head meaningfully. “Along with explicit orders not to beat herself up for what happened here. I managed to figure out that much on my own, even before you said so.”
“Apologies.”
“Not necessary. You’re good to protect her. She must think very well of you to have given you her mother’s knife belt.”
“You knew?”
“Yes. Quite the story that goes with it, though it’s not mine to tell. You’ll be interested, if you can extract it from her. Whiskey helps. How was she getting on with our favorite Dasnarian general?” She asked it casually, in case I didn’t know the intimate details.
“Not well. She told us what happened. They were at each other’s throats most of the time.”
“It will be interesting to see how that sorts out over time. Harlan is of the opinion that Kral will still help her in Dasnaria, regardless of his personal feelings.”
I nearly told her of Kral’s role in bringing me to Nahanau, but thought better of it. It might just anger her again and she’d greatly dislike any implication that she’d been manipulated. “Jepp is an excellent scout and will be a great spy, but—she can’t read Dasnarian. She speaks it quite a bit be
tter now.”
She shrugged philosophically and looked around the vast library. “We can’t have everything. And I certainly don’t mind having you here amid all of this accumulated knowledge. It’s a tremendous treasure, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. You’re hardly isolated here. Taking the shortcut through Annfwn, and with an embarrassment of ships to choose from, we can establish regular trade and communication.” She had a speculative glint in her eye that made me feel ever so slightly sorry for Rayfe.
“I should warn you—there’s probably a hibernating dragon like Kiraka under Windroven. She says there are others like her, and if it’s been rumbling . . .”
Ursula eyed me warily. “Do you know how to release it?”
“Maybe?”
“Perhaps you’d better compose a message to Ami. I can send it back with Andi.”
“You’re not going back to Ordnung after checking the barrier?”
She grinned. “Not just yet—and don’t look at me like that. One of Nakoa’s shipmasters has offered to go with us to map the barrier and help determine which of the Nahanau islands are inside and outside of it. Then I think we have to go search for this N’andana. Though I have no idea how to look for it.”
“I do.” When she raised a brow at my immediate reply, I nodded at her belly. “A star to guide you. If all this magic is interconnected. . .”
“Interesting.” She drew out the word. “Perhaps so. See? I have to go personally!”
“I concede the point, Your Majesty.”
She chuckled, amused at us both. “I assume you’ll continue to research? Any information you can dig out will no doubt be useful in the days ahead.”
“Of course.”
“Our first step will be to see if the Hákyrling is still there. We’ll check in with them and perhaps come back through here. Any messages for Jepp and Zynda?”
“I would love to send some with you. Thank you.” If I didn’t go with her. Knowing she would go to catch up with the Hákyrling only made it worse. I could go with them and complete my assignment. Maybe, once I did, I could come back here and . . . All along, even when you are closest to me, you think of how you’ll leave. I am not first with you.
No, I couldn’t suggest that. It was entirely possible Nakoa would not want me to stay, not after this. But if he forgave me, I’d abandon the mission. If only I could send Jepp some ideas of where to look. If only—“Wait! Akamai.”
Ursula raised one eyebrow. “The translator?”
“He’s more than that—he’s a librarian. One who knows documents, reads Dasnarian, and longs to see the world. Maybe he would go with Jepp. He’s most unobtrusive. People underestimate him. He’d be a terrific spy.”
She nodded, considering. “Many of the same reasons I picked you. But what if the Hákyrling has already passed through?”
“He could ride back with Nakoa’s shipmaster.”
“All right. I’m willing. He can report to you and you can pass along what I need to know. That way we still have your hands and experience in the game, as well. I’ll leave it to you to put the idea to Nakoa. I suggest doing so after the makeup sex.”
“Ursula!” I was blushing. I knew it.
She grinned easily. “I owed you that one, for all the times you smirked at me.”
“I suppose that’s fair.” I sighed.
“Courage, soldier. I’m sure you know how to get through to him.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “That’s exactly what Harlan said.”
She stood and hooked her thumbs in her sword belt. “What can I say? The man knows whereof he speaks. Thank Danu for that. Speaking of which, I’ll go see what he’s doing. I owe him some beach time. I’ll see you when we set sail in the morning?”
“One way or the other, yes.”
Though it was tempting to stay in the library a bit longer, to avoid facing Nakoa, I finally had to admit that I was no closer to answering the riddle. I had no idea how to get through to him, how to apologize. But I had to try.
I left my things where they were and found Akamai reshelving some of the texts I’d finished. “Did you have an interesting afternoon?” I asked him in Dasnarian, and he smiled broadly, but rolled his eyes.
“Yes, but I felt tugged at times, like a piece of meat between two dragons.”
“Believe me, I know the feeling.”
“Even after practicing with you, my Dasnarian is . . . creaky. I shall have to get better.”
“You might have the opportunity.” I filled him in on the plan, watching his intelligent dark eyes shine brighter. “I have to discuss it with Nakoa, but—”
“Why? I’m your subject now. The king has no say over what I do. I belong to you, Queen Dafne Nakoa KauPo.” He bowed as he said it.
I winced inwardly, understanding the whole taking responsibility for him better. “Akamai. I know you were there for the conversation this afternoon. You heard what the king said, that he would not have me as queen.”
“A discreet translator does not remember what is said.”
“You’ll be a good spy all right. But I know he said that. I might not be queen.”
“He said you would not have him. There’s a difference. However, I belong to you, queen or not.”
I would have to be very careful about this in the future. “I suppose the decision is made. If you can be ready to leave when they sail in the morning?”
“I am ready now.”
“Thank you.” I turned to go.
“Queen Dafne Nakoa KauPo? The king likes that you are fierce and as stubborn as he. He respects that.” He grinned. “Not that I remember anything that was said.”
Turning his words over in my mind, I considered my strategy. Despite my delays, I returned to our rooms earlier than usual. If Nakoa held true to pattern, he would not arrive for some time. If he came to see me at all. Inoa stopped in to see if I needed anything, and I couldn’t discern from her polite demeanor how she felt, or if she even knew my relationship with Nakoa was precarious. She happily agreed to arrange what I asked for and wished me a pleasant evening.
If I stayed, I would have to devote time to getting to know my sister-in-law better.
The ladies happily prettied me up, including shading in my much-reduced eyebrows and trimming the crisped ends of my hair. I considered wearing the transparent negligee but decided that was trying to distract Nakoa instead of being honest. Besides, if I had to go looking for him, that wouldn’t work at all.
Hopefully, however, he would walk into my ambush.
I sat on the balcony, watching the light decline, reading back through my journal instead of taking notes. So much had happened since I’d started it. In fact, it had become so unwieldy that I should start a new one. Apropos for starting a new life. Or perhaps not a completely new life, simply a new chapter. Why hadn’t I seen it? Ursula was right—I could continue to do much of what I needed to from Nahanau. I could still write the history I’d been planning. Living in the palace with what might be the most complete library in the world, I’d be able to provide information on a vast array of knowledge. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to recruit more operatives like Akamai, or even Jepp and Zynda.
The spymaster operating where she felt most at home—in the library. Not having adventures. Though the adventures had brought me to this place, and I couldn’t regret them. It made for a bright future.
If I could convince Nakoa to trust me again.
The doors opened and Nakoa came in, his stride halting as he spotted me, a rare expression of surprise on his face. He hadn’t expected me to be there. And Inoa had not told him. She’d known, then—and had acted to help me. Goddesses bless her.
Setting his face into remote lines, he came out to the balcony, taking in the game of kiauo I had set up. “What is this, Dafne?”
No mlai. My heart ached for it, but I lifted my chin and tried to make sure it didn’t show. “I thought we’d play. When I win, I will exact a kama from you.”
He lifted his white-str
eaked brows but didn’t smile. “I already gave you what you wish—you may leave. I will not stop you. I expected you to be on your queen’s ship already.”
“Not until I’ve beaten you at this game.”
“The game is not important.”
“It is to me. Please, Nakoa mlai.”
“What kama? You have already claimed more than I can bear to give.”
I had to press my lips against the tumble of apologies. “You think I will win so easily, then?”
He hesitated at that, stern mouth softening ever so slightly. “You have not so far.”
“Then you have nothing to lose.” I gestured to the other chair and poured some liquor for him.
“I don’t agree,” he replied, but he sat, inviting me to make the opening gambit.
The game took hours. I threw every bit of strategy I possessed into it. I’d thought about it quite a bit since our last game. Especially during those long hours wrapped in the rug and trapped in the cave. The game was not only about the pieces and the rules, but knowing your opponent and how he or she thought. Like Ursula, Nakoa tended to be protective of what he considered his responsibility, and his strategy reflected that. I kept him off-balance with erratic moves, cornering him into protecting his most precious pieces out of reflex.
Then I sprang my trap and, in three swift moves, captured the dragon.
He frowned at the board in astonishment. Then at me.
“I win. I am wise in this.”
Conceding the victory, he inclined his head. “The wisdom of dragons, indeed. What kama do you claim?” He sounded resigned and challenging at once. For a while during the game, the shadows of disappointment had fallen away. Now he regarded me with a guarded expression, bracing himself.
The moment of truth. The dark corners of my soul cried their cowardice. What if he said no? Any sane man would.
If so, I’d gather up the pieces of my heart and go on with my life. I’d had a good many moments with him, to treasure in my memory forever.
Nakoa eyed me warily as I got up, came around the table, and knelt before him. It took me three tries to find my voice. “I’m asking you to forgive me for breaking my promises. For not believing in what is between us. I want to stay, if you’ll let me. You are first with me. You were right, that you weren’t before, but you are now. I’m . . . wiser than I was. Even if you say no, you always will be. I didn’t see. Or listen.”
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