As the fire light shines through the cave’s entrance the next morning, I think of Kedrick’s expression before he died. His look of awe and how it had turned to fear as he suffocated. The threatening tears burn away and I feel a surge of white hot fury within me. Anger takes over, some of it directed at Kedrick for leaving me here by myself.
On my side, I feel for the arrow in my pocket where I transferred it yesterday morning. I draw it out with slow movements so I do not draw the attention of the rousing delegates.
I look at the weapon which ended Kedrick’s life. My breath catches and for a moment, I don’t understand what I’m seeing. The wood of the fletching is not Kaur.
My mind struggles to grasp what this arrow is telling me. I slow my breathing.
Kaur wood is the only type of wood on Osolis. There are the fruit trees, but these are never harvested for wood. They are too precious and are strictly accounted for. This fletching is not from a Solati arrow.
My hand holding the shaft end trembles. I look at it and my eyesight becomes tinged with red. I put the arrow back in my pocket and stare a hole into the wall I’m facing. I had assumed my mother had tried to kill me, but this arrow proved otherwise. There was only one other possibility. The only other place where this wood could have come from was Glacium, and all of the Bruma who could have shot the arrow were currently in this cave. There were only two maps. My mother had one, the delegates had the other. No one else could have traversed the Oscala. The killer was in this cave with me.
My vow is furious and heartfelt. I will find out who killed Kedrick and rip the life out of them.
Over the next day the remaining smoke disappears.
“Thank fuck for that!” A delegate yells behind me. I start at his language, but the others just laugh. They have begun talking again today, their grieved silence over Kedrick’s murder broken.
The same man continues speaking, “I’m bloody glad to be out of that smoke.” In truth, I don’t remember all of the delegate’s names. I only dealt with Malir, Rhone and Adnan, though I remember Kedrick mentioning Sanjay a few times. I remembered Blaine, too, because I had disliked the way he constantly complained.
“I’m bloody glad to be off that hell they call a world,” Blaine says. I narrow my eyes at the back of his head, eyeing his slick black hair with disgust. Anger has been my companion since realising one of the delegates is the murderer. I would only need the smallest hint of confirmation before I attack.
“I’m bloody glad to be heading home to Fiona,” Sanjay says.
My eyebrows raise at they continue to comment. Adnan, the quiet unassuming man who likes to make things, shoots a look at me. I shrug at him and one corner of his mouth tilts up. My lips don’t move at all in response. I think they have forgotten how to smile.
The delegates have been acting differently today. Malir’s posture is tense and several of the men are sneaking covert looks at me, the slight turn of their head giving them away. Their whispered fight from last night is unresolved, and clearly, I’m the root of the disagreement.
I nibble on an apple at dinner. I look at it as I chew, remembering Kedrick’s smile when I told him of my apple rebellion. I walk to the edge of the shelf and throw the apple away with all my strength. In an attempt to control my temper I move towards the wall, ignoring wide-eyed looks pointed my way. I sit down, my back on the smoothest part of rock I can find. It is still too jagged, I lean forward, elbows on my knees.
Malir clears his throat. The other delegates look to him in expectation. “Tatuma…” he starts.
Blaine cuts Malir off. “Why were you found over the dead body of our Prince?” About half of the delegates become rigid, whether at his rudeness or in anticipation I do not know. The other half nod in agreement.
I would’ve considered answering Malir’s question, but my recently tamped down fury surges to the fore at Blaine’s insinuation. My fists clench, and thoughts of how good it felt to punch Uncle Cassius flash across my mind. But then the lingering taste of apples stops these thoughts. I remember Kedrick. I must find his killer. If I lose my temper, the murderer may be alerted to my suspicions. If they are, I may never find them. I swallow my rage and shrug, turning my head away, looking further into the dark cave.
Blaine turns to the other delegates with his arms spread wide in a dramatic gesture.
“A shrug is all we get,” he says, copying my shrug. “Our Prince has been killed while on a peace mission, and the Tatuma of Osolis just shrugs.” He turns back to me.
“I told you she wasn’t really grieving. Hell, maybe it was her that killed him.” My head whips towards him. I know I will not be able to control this surge of fury.
Malir saves Blaine’s life with his next words.
“And then she stayed and held his hand?” he says with a shake of his serious face. “Don’t be a fool.”
Blaine glares at Malir, then smooths his expression as he looks back to me. “It is of no matter. She will be passed over to King Jovan in a few weeks anyway.”
It takes a long moment for his comment to penetrate the cloud of anger around me. Then it hits me. My mind had been such a blur, I had been so absorbed in my grief and anger, I had not even given this a thought. I had been a puppet they have been leading around. Of course I had realised we were going to Glacium. I just had not cared enough to ask why. Now I knew it was as a hostage.
I don’t give Blaine the satisfaction of rising to the bait and asking more about my fate. But he must sense my shock or perhaps he cannot pass up the opportunity to boast.
“You can imagine what message the assassination of our Prince sends to Glacium. You are now a Glacium prisoner, whether to be used for leverage or for justice is not for me to decide, though I know which I’d pick,” he says, watching me closely. A few of the delegates murmur their agreement.
His manner reminds me of my mother. There’s no doubt Blaine will be voting for my head on a platter. His answer does not upset me, it just confirms what I already knew. I no longer care. I did not care about Osolis, I did not care about becoming Tatum and I certainly did not care about what Kedrick’s brother would do to me. Without Kedrick it was all pointless.
I shrug again because I know it will annoy Blaine. “Alright then.” I turn away and lie on my side to face another cave wall, feeling savage pleasure in the swear words he looses at my back, his composure cracked. Osolis or Glacium, I will feel empty wherever I am.
That night I lay awake and go through every variable which could have saved Kedrick’s life. What if I had just shown him my face at Aquin’s? What if I had refused to unveil my face in the first place? Every what if adds to my fury. Why had one of the few things which made me happy, been ripped away so cruelly?
The pattern is the same for the next fourteen days. Wake, climb, eat, climb and sleep. Where I used to liken myself to the Kaur tree, I now see more of myself in the Oscala. The air grows darker. The orange glow from my world is gone, I have no way of knowing which way I would turn to go to Glacium or Osolis. Rocks surround us on all sides, I only know up and down. The air has gotten steadily colder. A few mornings ago my breath had formed into a cloud in front of my face. I always looked forward to the physical exercise of the day to exhaust me, but now I also depended on it to keep me warm. This provided a new obstacle to sleeping, though it was already restless due to my constant nightmares. I knew I was keeping the other delegates awake.
I also had a chance to study the delegates. The only anger remaining in me now after two weeks or more on Oscala, was the slow burn of revenge. I had begun obsessing over which delegate shot the arrow. I had spent hours studying each of them. Blaine would have been the obvious choice, but this was what made me disregard him. The real killer would surely not be acting like a killer, though there did not seem to be any suspicion or talk as to a killer being in their midst. It had been dark and the arrow head had been gone, likely they had not spotted the Bruma wood of the arrow.
Blaine’s main supporter, Sole, was
my next choice. But on closer inspection, I decided he lacked the necessary backbone. He couldn’t stand up to Blaine’s continual insults and orders, let alone find the guts to kill someone.
I walk between Malir and Rhone at the front of the line and accept a water skin from Adnan.
There were three groups. One I liked, who followed Malir. One led by Blaine, and another group who seem to change their minds constantly between Malir and Blaine. I wondered if this had always been so, or if it was because of Kedrick’s death. Being Prince, he would have been the assumed leader.
None of the delegates carried weapons apart from one knife each. This was a condition of the treaty though, which I remembered from my lessons. However, each man also carried a large pack on their backs. It would not be hard to conceal weapons in this and then leave the murder weapon on Osolis.
I should have asked Kedrick more about the delegates during his stay. I didn’t know their roles on Glacium, and could not guess at what motives they might have. Did Blaine want to war with Osolis? Assassinating me would definitely help to start one. I run my hand over crumbling rock, and duck underneath an overhang.
Kedrick’s death could very well start a war. With his death and my capture, we would already be tittering on the brink of a war. The thought of having to redo all the hard peace work of the previous royals over the last one hundred years is a sobering thought. Briefly, I remember Kedrick’s and my own passion on this subject before shaking the thought away.
I walk across a rope bridge, which sways side to side dangerously, making my stomach lurch. I keep my eyes straight ahead.
War or not, I would not be returning to Osolis until the Bruma who killed Kedrick was destroyed. I owed him this much, and so much more for his sacrifice.
Chapter Thirteen
I have taken to sifting through my memories of Kedrick to distract me from the monotony of our journey. Today I’m trying to remember his face. I imagine his half smile and his vibrant blue eyes and put him in my favourite place. We are in the meadow and it’s the middle of the day. The grass is still long and making its quiet rustle. We don’t have to hide. A lump rises in my throat.
“Malir, may I ask you something?” My voice crackles from disuse. The heads closest to me jerk at the sound, obviously curious as to what I want to know. I have not spoken more than a couple of sentences the whole journey.
Malir nods his head, not taking his eyes off the rope hanging between this shelf and the next. He tugs it firmly to check it is still strong enough to hold our weight.
“What happened to Kedrick’s body?” I have no idea what happened after I blacked out. This had not bothered me to start with, but I found myself more and more bothered by what had happened afterwards. I wanted to know all of the facts. Maybe I could glean something from their recount to help me narrow down my list of delegates.
“We moved him into the forest and covered him with branches,” Malir says, turning from the rope to look at me. His voice is direct as always, but perhaps a little regretful.
I nod my thanks to him. He didn’t need to answer my question. I still had not answered any of their questions about Kedrick at all.
If Kedrick’s body was on the way to Aquin’s, maybe Olandon or Aquin would come across it and give him a decent burial. I shove thoughts of animals eating him and of his body decaying in the woods from my mind and focus on swinging one arm in front of the other along the rope to cross between the shelves.
My breath clouds in front of my face the whole night. I’m the coldest I have ever been in my life, my thin robes are not meant for this temperature. I shiver and wish for another blanket. The men’s snores and breathing go on as usual, comfortable as ever.
It is a long night.
Adnan approaches me the next morning as I sit rolling up the blanket which did nothing at all for me last night. He holds out a pack to me. Confused and a bit curious, I take it from him. Seeing my darker skin next to his white skin reminds me of how Kedrick’s hand and mine used to look when next to each other. Forcing this aside, I look inside the pack and find clothing.
“It was Kedrick’s bag,” he says. “They will be big on you, but they’ll be warmer than what you have on.” He gives a small smile and returns to the other men.
I’m so exhausted, I almost cry in gratitude. I unpack Kedrick’s clothes and pull them on under my robes, rolling the legs and sleeves of the garments several times over. I pull the edge of his tunic to my face, disappointed when his smoky scent is not on it. The boots are too large for me to wear, but I cannot bring myself to leave them behind, so I put them back into the pack with my robe and the arrow end. My sleeping gear is stuffed on top. Rhone has been carrying my blankets until now. I stand up, shouldering the pack.
Another day passes and I’m grateful for the clothing as my nose and ears begin to ache with the cold. The temperature drops even further towards the end of the day and I find the rocks are becoming slippery and treacherous. My sandals don’t provide enough grip on the surface. Rhone catches me for the fourth time, and Malir shakes his head at my shoes. I glare at him under my veil. They should have thought about boots when they took me hostage. My mood worsens over the remainder of the day. By the time we reach the next cave I decide I have never looked forward to bed more.
I’m sitting on my sleeping gear when the young orange-haired delegate called Sanjay walks over to my spot. He pulls a knife from his boot and I tense. He notices this and chuckles.
“There are a lot of cleaner ways to get rid of you out here.”
I stare at him. Did he really just say that? He gestures at my shoes. “I have come to have a look at those sandals of yours. They aren’t any help in the ice and you’ll be taking a flying lesson if we do not change them.”
Despite my uncertainty at his odd comment, I shove my shoes into his hands, saying, “I had thought to wrap some material from my Solati clothing around them and perhaps tie them to my legs.”
He taps his chin. “That may work, but the spare material from your trousers will work better still. And maybe we can use some of the boot that you have in your bag also.” He calls Adnan over who takes both shoes eagerly, discussing ideas with Sanjay, who nods occasionally.
I hesitate, brooding over his intent to ruin Kedrick’s belongings. I pick at a loose thread on the borrowed trousers I wear.
“Sanjay,” I begin. He turns to me with raised brows, surprised I know his name perhaps.
“These are not my belongings and I do not wish to tear them up without permission,” I say.
“But they were Kedrick’s clothes. How is he going to give you permission?”
I swallow hard and do not answer. Adnan elbows him in the ribs.
“Tatuma, it is a sad truth, but a truth nonetheless. Kedrick doesn’t need these clothes where he is.”
I gasp at his callousness. “You are very….straight forward,” I say.
He rubs his head. “Yes. It was hard for me on Osolis. Though my wife will rejoice at my new restraint.”
My eyebrows raise. If this is him showing restraint, I’m glad I did not know him before. I pass him Kedrick’s boots with a heavy heart.
I watch him work, surprised at how deft he is with his hands. After a while I tell him so.
“My wife would agree with you,” he says, sniggering a little. He cuts this off at a growl from Malir.
Sanjay turns to me. “I work with Adnan on Glacium. Adnan thinks up the ideas, but lacks the masculinity to actually make them.” Rhone snorts over his food. We all turn to look at Adnan who is eating across the cave. He looks up, suspicious at our sudden attention.
Sanjay continues, “It’s exciting to work with something again. Even if it is Kedrick’s smelly boots.” I giggle against my will. His sense of humour is terrible.
“That is the first I’ve heard you laugh on this holiday.”
The giggle sounds again. “A holiday! You’re jesting.”
“Yes, well, maybe a forced holiday for you.” He chuckl
es as he holds up the boots in front of him. He has somehow combined my sandals and Kendrick’s boots and he did not need the extra material from my Kedrick’s clothing either.
“I don’t know how you made this with only your hands and that knife, but I thank you,” I say, nodding at him.
“No problem.” He scratches his ear as his face turns red. I grin at his awkwardness. He is similar to Aquin in this way.
I wake up to Adnan shaking my shoulder. My hands fumble to make sure my veil is on and I sit upright. I didn’t have any nightmares last night. Seeing everyone is nearly ready, I throw my belongings in my pack. Rhone passes me some food and I munch on it as we leave the cave. It is getting windy now and I tuck my veil beneath the high neckline of Kedrick’s tunic.
I look around with awe, taking in the layer of white sticking to the shelves. Adnan tells me it is frost. We begin our climb once more and I quickly ascertain my new makeshift boots are far superior to my sandals in this slippery terrain. I listen, smiling on occasion as Sanjay teases Adnan about this or the other. Adnan puts up with his comments with suffering patience, never rising to his baiting. They are obviously close.
Soon after our lunch, the line comes to a stop and a cheer goes up from the front of our group. I nudge Sanjay aside and get my closest ever look at Glacium. It is so bright, I squint my eyes a little. It almost looks like there is a ring of light around it because the glare is so strong. I stare until my eyes water, but I cannot see beyond the blinding light at this distance.
My heart lifts at the sight of something other than the Oscala, which is odd considering I’m a prisoner. The sameness of the shelves had been starting to make me see things. One day I thought I had seen a Tellio, and had looked back to find it was a crack in the rock. Another day I had seen a flash of red, blinked my eyes and been met by the same dark sky I had been looking at for weeks.
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