Unlacing his boots, Conard wriggled his feet free of their sodden, muddy encasings. With no hope whatsoever that they would dry out, he used a twig to pry mud from the soles of his boots before draping his socks over the top. He groaned. Until he had sat down, he hadn’t realized how much his legs ached.
“What’s for dinner?” he muttered, loosening the drawstring on his leather pack. “Something delicious, I’m sure.” His hands encountered first his heavy cloak, which he draped gratefully about his shoulders, and next a packet of dried goat-meat. Tentatively he nibbled on one stringy, tough corner of the jerky; to his surprise, it tasted delicious.
Suddenly an image sprang to mind, of sharing a campfire with his father and the other prospectors on that long journey through the rainforest. It had been a particularly arduous hike that day, climbing for ages to the top of a barren pass, and Conard had twice fallen so far behind he had nearly lost the group. Their dinner that night had been boiled potatoes with salt, but it had been the most delicious meal Conard had ever eaten.
Sitting now on the tussock, ignoring the cold that was already beginning to seep through his legs and buttocks, Conard enjoyed the goat jerky with the same single-minded, ravenous pleasure. The chunk of meat was gone far too soon, but Conard was not so foolish as to snack on the next day’s rations. Curling the cloak about himself like a blanket, he lay down on the lumpy patch of grass and tried to will himself to sleep.
“You’d better forgive me, Laina,” he muttered, just before drifting off. “This is my penance.”
* * *
At first light, the entire household gathered to bid Doran farewell. Laina had joined him earlier still, guessing correctly that he was plagued with misgivings about the journey.
“I’ll be a burden to my hosts,” he said, reaching for Laina’s hand in the darkness. “I’ll be a laughingstock.”
“But think of all the books!” Laina said, using Doran’s own words to soothe him. “There will be vast libraries to explore, and a warm sea breeze drifting in the windows. You’ll see the most stunning sunsets over the ocean, and you won’t have to stay shut inside all the time.”
“This is going to be the end of Lostport. My own selfishness.”
Laina squeezed his hand. “We’ll make it work. We won’t give up our land to the greedy Whitish bastards. Especially not Prince Ronnick.”
Doran laughed drily. “On the topic of selfishness…”
“He’s not even a good strategic ally,” Laina said. “And he’s a simpering fool.”
“Agreed.”
That was when Nort and Barrik had come to carry Doran out to the lawn. As the household assembled, the two guards helped secure Doran into his horse’s saddle, where he sat with an air of stiff dignity. Every one of them followed Doran and his guards in an odd procession down the switch-backing road to the dock, where they were joined by half the townsfolk. Word had certainly spread fast.
A well-apportioned sailing ship awaited Doran, crew scurrying about her deck in preparation. After perusing the maps with Swick the previous night, Laina could envision the exact route her brother would take through the Kinship Thrones. They would sail west from Lostport until they reached the Varrilan peninsula, at which point they would strike out through the desert to the southern Whitish grasslands. It was the exact region that had been troubled by Varrilan raids in recent spans, but Doran would be guarded by a large Cheltish convoy. Chelt was the most neutral of the Kinship Thrones—central to all trade across the continent, the seaside kingdom welcomed all and opposed none. Neither Varrival nor Whitland would antagonize a Cheltish guard.
With some difficulty, Doran was transferred from his horse to a chair on the deck of the ship.
“Isn’t he bringing Feather?” Laina asked her father.
“No. The seas are too rough for her.”
As the sailors began releasing the lines fastened to the dock, Laina hurried up the gangplank to say goodbye to her brother. Swallowing her tears, she drew him into a fierce hug.
“I’ll miss you terribly,” she whispered. “Take care of yourself. I want you safely home soon.”
Doran sniffed, gripping her tightly. “You take care of yourself, too. Don’t try anything too stupid.”
Laina kissed his forehead and blinked back tears as she released him. Part of her wanted to stay on the boat, to leave Lostport and its woes far behind. For a brief instant, she envied her brother.
Retreating to the dock, Laina waved to Doran, back stiff in a show of resolve. Her two dearest friends had now been taken from her, and she was alone at the center of the mess her kingdom had become.
“Safe journey, milord!” Swick shouted as the boat drifted away. The entire crowd began waving and shouting good wishes as the sails unfurled and whisked Doran away into the pale morning light.
It was not until the boat had nearly vanished on the horizon that the crowd began to disperse.
“You should ride Feather home,” Laina’s father said, holding out the reins.
Laina understood at once the symbolic significance of the move. Her people would see Laina stepping into Doran’s place as the heir.
But she was not the true heir. A woman could never inherit the throne.
“I’ll walk,” she said, though she stepped forward and took Feather’s reins. She was just a placeholder, a means to an end.
For the first time in her life, she resented the disparity.
* * *
Faolan was just wrapping up a second letter to Katrien when Laina entered his study without knocking. He had already begun his closing sentence, but at the appearance of his daughter, eyes bright with determination, the words slipped his mind.
Sighing, he set aside his pen. “I can already tell you want to beg something of me.” If he was not mistaken, she was seeking distraction after the departure of her brother. The two had always been very close.
Laina made a face. “It’s hardly an unreasonable request, Father. And I have Swick and his very capable assistant to look after me.”
Faolan had a very bad feeling about this. “Tell me.”
Laina pressed her lips together before speaking. “Master Swick is planning a trip to Port Emerald, to begin a map of the road and the mountains. He wishes me to accompany him.”
“No,” Faolan said at once. It was a two-day journey, and would involve a night sleeping out in tents halfway to the building site. “That is out of the question. Do you have any further need for me, or may I finish this letter in peace?”
“Father,” Laina said, “You cannot treat me like a glass figurine forever. With Doran and Conard gone, what am I supposed to do with my time?”
“You could help me with the business of governing this blasted country,” Faolan snapped. “It’s high time you took on a bit more responsibility and stopped running about like a vagabond.”
Laina blanched.
Faolan instantly regretted his words. “I’m sorry, I—”
“I’ll make a deal with you,” Laina interrupted. “The trip is five days from now. If I help you with paperwork until then, join you for dinner, and even engage that horrid prince in conversation, will you at least consider letting me go?”
Faolan still felt guilty for what he had said. What would Katrien have done, in his position? Would she be horrified by how few social graces Faolan had instilled in his daughter? But if she would truly give Prince Ronnick a chance, the risk could be worth a lot. Prince Ronnick was the best hope Lostport had.
“You may accompany them,” Faolan said. Laina straightened. “But only if you convince me that you have done your very best to get along with Prince Ronnick. One hint of a snide comment or a nasty look, and you can stay at home.”
“Thank you, Father!” Laina grasped his hand and kissed his knuckles. “You are too generous.”
Too right he was. Faolan smiled grudgingly and waved Laina away. He should never have indulged so many of her dangerous whims.
The next morning, Harrow joined Faolan for
breakfast, determined to talk him into accompanying him on a trip of his own down to Port Emerald. After how little he had wanted Laina to do the same, Faolan was reluctant to make any plans to journey through the rainforest. It didn’t help that Laina sat at the end of the table—beside Prince Ronnick, as she had promised—listening closely to every word.
“You know you want to see the city,” Harrow said. “You’ve been waiting most of your life for this moment.”
“It hardly counts as a city yet. It’s merely a building site.” Faolan refused to show his interest. “Besides, it will take a great deal of planning and organization to equip ourselves for such a long journey.”
“It’s only two days,” Harrow said with exasperation.
“Prince Ronnick should go with you,” Laina said. “It would be an educational opportunity for him. After all, isn’t he supposed to be an architect?”
“Your majesty, I hate to presume too much, but—I would love nothing better than to join you on this expedition.”
“Fine!” Faolan said. “We’ll go! But—” He stopped as a brilliant idea came to him. “Laina, you can travel with us. I would feel far more comfortable if I were able to join you on your first trip to Port Emerald.”
Laina glanced at Prince Ronnick, clearly discomfited that she had invited him along. “I suppose.”
“Unless you would like to lose your sole opportunity to make the journey.”
With a sigh, Laina said, “The whole point of my trip to Port Emerald was to map the road. I can hardly do that without Swick and Jairus there.”
“Well, invite them to join us. Guards!” Faolan snapped his finger, and the two men who carried Doran everywhere jumped to their feet. “One of you, hurry down into Lostport and find this cartographer. Tell him that his pupil is about to travel the forest road, and he is welcome to accompany her if he so desires.”
* * *
Laina felt guilty for dragging Swick and Jairus along at such short notice; the way her father had arranged the trip, it now seemed like a selfish indulgence on her part rather than an academic expedition.
It was a selfish indulgence all along, she thought uneasily. There was no reason for her to take up cartography, except to satisfy herself.
Her father insisted that she ride Feather, which seemed like utter foolishness. Since when had she become so delicate? When she caught sight of the two cartographers waiting for her and her father’s companions on the main road of Lostport, Laina hunched her shoulders forward as though she could camouflage herself against Feather’s coat. The two men, both tall and lean but utterly dissimilar in every other aspect, each wore laced leather boots and shouldered a well-stuffed pack.
“Your friends seem eager to see the new port,” Laina’s father commented, patting Laina tenderly on the knee. “You have chosen your traveling companions well.”
To her surprise, Laina realized her father was correct. Swick was grinning unashamedly at the royal party—six altogether; she had to admit she and her father’s household made an impressive array—and even Jairus appeared to be in high spirits.
“A fine morning to you, Master Swick,” Laina’s father said, striding ahead of the group.
Swick dipped his head respectfully, grin still in place, and Jairus hastily copied him.
“I must admit, I have long wished for a map of my own kingdom. If you can produce something suitable, I will reward you richly.”
Swick bobbed his head again. “You are gracious, my lord. But I do this for my own pleasure. No reward is necessary.”
“Onward, then!” her father said.
Embarrassed at her luxury, Laina held Feather steady until the rest of the group had passed before her. Then she nudged him forward, in line with Jairus and Swick. She had never ridden before, but the horse was obviously well-trained. She followed the group docilely, with almost no guidance from Laina.
“Have you been on the forest road before?” Swick asked conspiratorially.
“No,” Laina said. “They just started the road a few quarters before Doran was injured. It’s the fastest project I’ve ever seen completed in Lostport; most construction crews get lazy halfway through and have to be replaced a year too late.” She glanced up, to where Harrow and her father led the way behind the dockside buildings toward the back harbor and the deeper forest. “I’ve been this way many times before, but it’s always been through an impenetrable wall of jungle. Doran, Conard, and I spent hours hacking our way through the mess.”
After they passed beyond the line of buildings and through the rickety fence that marked what had until recently been the edge of civilization, the path narrowed and drew closer to the beach. Now there was just a narrow strip of grass and the occasional stunted tree between the trail and the sand. The tide was out; Laina knew from experience that waves often lapped at the fringe of the path when the sea had risen. Twice in her memory, a storm had washed the entire strip of grass away, leaving nothing but driftwood and lines of black mulch strewn across the sand.
Before long, the path curved left, still following the contours of the coast. Directly east of Lostport lay a deeply indented harbor that would have been ideal for mooring ships had it not been so steep and rocky; she and Conard had swam off its single beach many times, but they had never dared to venture far from the shore. Beyond that, the true mountains began. As they rounded the bend, Laina could see the familiar Mount Taleon rising before her, a rounded green peak looming above the rolling forest to the west, as steep as a dolphin’s beak. Mount Taleon marked the true start of the fjords beyond, where the gentle hills gave way to deep valleys guarded by towering ridges. Laina had never truly ventured far into the rainforest, as many times as she had dreamed of it. No, that had always been Conard’s greatest triumph, not hers.
“How far do the mountains extend?” Jairus asked. He had drawn up closer to Laina’s side than she had realized, and she gave a start at his soft voice. “Is there ocean on the opposite side, or more land that has yet to be discovered?”
“There is more land,” Laina said, “but I have never heard of anyone landing there or exploring it. I do not know if there are people there, or just wilderness. The fjords extend a long, long way, and even those sailors lucky enough to find a safe dock are unable to penetrate deeper into the rainforest.”
“Mysteries beyond imagining!” Swick said. “Just think—we could be the very first to discover a whole new land! Perhaps even a magical one.”
“Like Cashabree?” Laina asked.
Swick nodded eagerly, his grey hair dancing in the strong sea wind. “Imagine the first person brave enough to set foot past those borders. Imagine seeing proof that magic still survives in our world!”
Just then, Harrow turned and shouted, “See that? We’ve nearly reached the forest road!”
He was gesturing at a wooden archway, no more than three logs framing a portion of the path: the official start of the forest road.
“Have they started building already?” Laina asked, more to herself than anything.
“I can give you a detailed answer to that question in two days’ time,” Swick said cheekily.
Now they were approaching the wooden arch. From that point onward, the road diverged from the ocean, plunging into the dark confines of the rainforest as it followed a river deep into its steep-walled gorge. Laina held her breath as they passed beneath the logs. When she let it out, she could feel a change in the very air. The wind still rustled the leaves above and behind where they walked, but it no longer teased her hair. Beneath the trees, all was still and dense, the air sodden with unshed rain. It was as though the forest had parted its lips and allowed the intruders to walk onto the tip of its tongue.
Even Swick had grown momentarily silent. The woods around Lostport were not quite like these; they were younger and more tamed. These felt ancient and powerful. The trees grew crooked and close together, with threads of dewy moss stretched between them like some living spiderweb. Everything was green, from the leaves
to the lichen dappling the undersides of branches to the moss creeping along the ground and up every tree. Laina heard a bird screech, but the sound was far-off and dampened by the weight of the forest.
“Some forest,” Swick said at last.
Jairus did not speak. His eyes were wide, hungry.
“It’s opened up,” Laina said in awe. She could not vocalize what she felt; it seemed somehow that the trees, always so aggressively knotted like a fence to keep her away, had now parted and instead beckoned her inward. If she had been the first to discover this road, she would have feared that the woods lured her into a trap.
“Imagine what it must have been like, cutting these trees,” Swick said. He seemed to have recovered himself somewhat. “It would have taken an entire day to clear the ground I can now cover in five paces.”
“It’s a wide road, too,” Jairus said, still looking a bit dazed. “Very even and well-formed.”
Laina nodded. “How long is the walk supposed to take?”
“You’ll have to ask your father about that,” Swick said. “But I understand we will be spending two nights at a campsite a little past midway, and tomorrow we will make a day trip to the building site itself.”
Laina slapped Feather’s hindquarters. The horse shuffled its way past Swick and Jairus and drew level with Prince Ronnick, who was walking alone with his eyes fixed on the road. “Father?” Laina called, hoping the prince would continue to ignore her. “How far is the journey today?”
Her father paused to consult with Harrow. “We should be there just before sundown. The walk tomorrow is shorter.”
Laina nodded, giving her father a bright smile. It was wonderful to be outside again, surrounded by untamed wilderness. She wished Conard could have seen this.
As they walked, they stumbled across a series of brightly-colored birds, chattering in the treetops and darting from branch to branch overhead. More surprising were the people they began encountering just after they paused for lunch. No fewer than eight people passed in the opposite direction, four of them undoubtedly builders, three ragged-looking gypsies, and one old woman who stared at Laina with a disconcerting smile as she shuffled by.
The Fall of Lostport Page 6