The injured soldier made it out of the group before they started up with their maneuvers again, but there were no handmaidens waiting along the edge near the fountain to crowd us. There wasn't room for them anymore. They still spotted the viewing platforms, but the training grounds were completely filled up with soldiers.
They weren't all mine to train. Commander Venoc was back in Akadia to watch over his own, and Scanth had Lieutenants to train his while he was away in Karatel. Less than half of his battalion was there with him, perhaps a thousand, something like a sixth of the entire Akadian force. The fact that all but this of the Akadian army was back in the city showed.
We entered the main street outside of the training grounds only to run into almost just as many soldiers. They dotted the streets, the guard towers, the squares of Akadia, like ants, particularly leading up towards the palace district, which was a view that I still hadn't become accustomed to.
The bright golden spiraling palace that had once risen high above the city, was gone. The tallest buildings in Akadia were now the barracks, or the citadels containing the war-rooms. Lox's was the largest of these. I could see it from where I was now, resting at the top of the red-rock wall that was part of the cavern I'd just been training in. Sunlight reflected off the building's tall glass window, beyond that hung the blue dragon tapestry that had once lived in the great hall of Shaundakul.
It may just as well have been entitled Akadia's new palace.
What had followed the destruction of the real palace, the death of Molec, and most of the nobles of Akadia, was very quick action. Some Councilmembers, Lords, and Ladies had survived, demanding the rights of the council to lead in the crisis, or claims were made by certain Lords to stand in until a new King could be chosen. Even some had testified to an heir that resided on the Isle of Yanartas, and those had been silenced first, though not quickly enough that even the most common of Akadians knew that the city's once-favored captain had been a prince, that his famed "ghost" was no ghost at all, and that the Lady Amalia Denathar had been much more to King Molec than an acquaintance. The news of such conspiracies within the King's innermost circle had only eased the transition of power away from the nobles—though there was never much of a promise for struggle to begin with. Soldiers outnumbered laymen in Akadia two to one, and (as I'd been told by Lox many times before) soldiers followed the orders of their commanders. And Commanders Venoc and Scanth followed Commander Lox.
So, once Lox had declared the dispersion of the council, the council had been dispersed. And once he'd deemed no Lords fit to rule in Molec's place, no Lords had ruled. He'd ordered the total leveling of the half-ruined palace in the same breath he'd welcomed the soldiers back from the eastern lands. Then he'd explained the tactical necessity for the break in warring on the other kingdoms, and the permanent occupancy of the soldiers in Akadia—which had made the men only too pleased.
Then the other changes had started.
The injured soldier and I had to wind away from the palace district to reach our destination. Since he didn't know where we were going any longer, I led—though before long he could probably have ventured a guess.
Busier even than the training grounds, was the district that had just a few months ago been abandoned. The one that took up the westernmost part of Akadia, that had housed, and still did, the Granted Temple, though now it had been leveled into a pavilion known as High Hill. The largest pillars of the old temple still stood, surrounding the space, and even from this distance I could see the huddle of bright color marking the attire of those who frequented Akadia's newest and most popular location.
My soldier and I took a route that bypassed it and made straight for the western wall. Men and women—workers mostly—went on ahead of us, carrying bags or wagons full of tools, or jewels, or food. They walked, what seemed to be, right off the edge of the city, into the air where they would halt and then slowly descend until they'd disappeared. When it was my soldier and I's turn to take the lift, I hesitated to look at the scene below.
Back in Shaundakul, out by the old ruins, there'd been a lake that I'd used to skip rocks across. It had been wide enough that, for no lack of trying, I'd never managed to get a stone to its far side, and my oft-times companion hadn't even ever got one a quarter of the way. Well, if that lake had been drained of all its water, it would have been something like what now resided just outside the walls of Akadia.
Without taking into account that it was already a thousand feet from the walls of Akadia down to the dessert, the hole that had been dug into the earth was at least that much further down, wide and gaping, smoking, leaving the cavern which housed the Behemoths open to the sky. The very same cavern that had once been underground. The river of coals and fire still cut directly down its middle, and closest to the northernmost side were the furnaces that fed power to the city. Snaking around its edges, were new paths and lifts that led from the desert or the city to the cavern-bed. These roads were all full with workers, diggers, soldiers; and down below, smiths who worked faster than ever in the light of the sun. Outside the south end of the hole was the red Granted Mountain, its largest platform gaping high over the cavern. It was here that I paused to stare the longest, while the sound of the Behemoth's steps drummed in my head.
Someone knocked into the soldier beside me, drawing my attention back to what I was doing. I gave him a nod, and followed him onto the lift.
~ Chapter Three ~
ELLIA:
To describe the change that had come over the Isle of Yanartas in the months since the war's end, I could have filled an entire book; the sort I'd once spent hours reading in the scholars' library while imagining the legendary Isle for myself.
What things were the same?…
The ocean, almost completely surrounding it, vicious and roiling around the clefts, but serene in the coves with bright lapping waves. The fires, flaming up in the rocky places of the isle, out from within the ground itself, like warm and golden wisps. The volcano at the top of the mountain, its largest cavern open to the air, home to the chimera, glowing deepest orange. The jungle, taking up the western half of the isle, too treacherous to be habitable, or even survivable by anyone but the Warriors, but lush enough with fruit and game to feed the chimera when they tired of fish.
What was changed?…
The treetop complex of huts, platforms, bridges, ladders, and pavilions, should have been able to be called the same—it hadn't actually shifted in style. It was still made of ropes and wood, still ranging hundreds of feet off the ground. The change had come in the number of people that now occupied the city, and of what sort. Foreigners, refuges, from Karatel and Selket, some Democedians and even some Ghaundians. They'd resided in the ground buildings until room had run out, now the space between the tree-top complex and below was meeting as more buildings were being put up between them. Tree-hugging huts, spiraling staircases, extra dining pavilions, extra training platforms.
—Because the rescued refuges had just been the start of it.
Once I'd brought up going to Byako, and we'd realized just how close their swamplands resided to the place that Yanartas touched the continents; once I'd gone there and they'd so fully pledged their help and had proved it by fighting with us in Selket, driving out the occupied Akadians; after all this, the first-order Warriors had decided to open up routes between our land and theirs.
We didn't use the actual land, it was too narrow in places, too unleveled and prone to attack by waves, but there were ferries, and fresh docks. The ride took little more than a few hours, and ever since this news had become known to our allies, foreigners from all around the lands had come, drawn by the infamy of the chimera, but promising themselves irresistibly to join the fight against Akadia. New pledges came every week, some Byakoans, those who didn't have their own White Tigers, and then from the eastern lands, and even other places I'd rarely heard of. For this reason, especially since the reclaiming of Selket, we Cirali Warriors trained more than we fought.
> Yanartas had been lively before, but now there was never a moment of silence, almost always there was music, or the sound of training, or constructing; even merchants had come to peddle wares down below, adding to the bedlam. On days like today, I envied them their nearness to the Yanartian fires.
"Could it get any colder?" I shouted to Lucian, who flew just beside me on Arrin. The expression he wore was a mix of concern and restrained excitement, neither of which I thought pertained to the weather.
"Much colder in winter," he answered, "Enough to freeze you to death in flight."
"It seems everyone neglected to warn me."
He laughed. "You're from Shaundakul—aren't you used to worse than this?"
"There's a difference, we had walls. We had stone that warms up, and fire-places, and protection from the—" I shivered "Wind."
"Well that wouldn't be so bad if Luffie didn't swoop around so much." He eyed her, this was something that he'd been trying to work with her on the entire flight back—with little success. She dove down to the southern platform now in a way that said that hadn't changed. Arrin dropped in much more composure, though I didn't miss the way his gaze was scanning the complex.
There were enough Yanartians about on the platform to make us lose a few minutes in greetings, not that we could give them the news about Echren. Most didn't know where we'd gone or why. I turned back to Lucian in time to take the satchel he was holding out for me. "To the Chamber?" I asked, already knowing the answer would be yes.
He stretched out a hand in that direction. I walked on and he fell into step beside me. Luffie had already told me she would stay and wait to hear the warrior's response, despite her need for rest; and it seemed Arrin had the same plan, though he wouldn't stop looking around.
"Do you have the pledge?" Lucian asked distractedly.
"In my bag."
He nodded.
"You know I can go by myself if you like. I'll make sure to give them the news from the Ghaundians as well."
"Hmm? No. They'll be expecting me."
We passed a pair of Yanartian boys, young. They stopped to point at us, whispering. I smiled, while Lucian frowned. "Does it bother you so much?" I asked, laughing a little.
"I just don't see the point to it. Everyone here has always known who I was. They didn't make anything of it before."
Before, you weren't the only surviving heir to a kingless throne, I thought. I said: "You must have known this was what would happen after Molec's death."
He raised his brow at another gawker. "I grew up here, where we don't have rulers. So… no, I didn't know. Before you came, I didn't even understand that royalty was treated much differently at all. And once you got your crown back…" He was alluding to the attention that it had first gotten me.
"Well, at least you don't have one of those," I teased.
He winced at the thought.
"It probably won't be so severe once the war is over. It's just because Akadia is on everyone's mind. I certainly don't get as much attention as you."
"Really?" he asked with confusion. "I was just thinking the same thing in reverse. You mean when you're alone?"
"You must be more popular," I went on, "Or else the both of us together compounds the problem."
He made a face.
It looked so ridiculous that I was just about to laugh when it suddenly shifted, and his gaze along with it—somewhere behind me, and moving with a steady focus in one direction as if he were watching a bird pass. Only I knew well enough from the look in his eye that it was no bird.
I turned to see Estrid Larke walking fast along a bridge that ran parallel to ours. She was a blur of black and dark blue, the special Warrior's garb that she always wore, while the chimera, Tris, that followed behind her was just the opposite, white and pink. From their pace and direction, clearly neither of them had seen us. I waited for Lucian to call to her, when he didn't, I sighed internally and did the job myself. "Ho, Captain!"
She halted at the title, and so did Tris. I heard Lucian clear his throat, and Arrin whine as the two looked our way. Even with the yards of space between us, her appearance was disarming. Skin so pale it made her lips look red. And black bangs that fell into her face while the rest of her hair was pulled back into a wondrously thick ponytail. I couldn't help but thinking my trainer was one lucky Cirali Warrior.
She looked between Lucian and I without her usual smile. "You're back," she said simply.
"Just. It took forever in Echren," I answered. "Then we had to stop in Ghaund."
"Did you have a good time?" she asked.
Lucian still hadn't spoken. I waited for him to respond, and when he didn't I stepped on his foot.
"Yes. It was fine," he answered in a wince. "I mean, it went better than we'd expected."
"Then he'd expected," I corrected, pointing his direction. I predicted this would draw a laugh if not a joke at Lucian's expense from Estrid, but she didn't do either and I was stuck laughing on my own.
"The birds agreed to help then?" she asked.
I said "yes" at the same time Lucian said "not quite".
Estrid frowned.
"They'll help once we've spoken to the Black Tortoises," I said.
"If they say yes," Lucian corrected.
"And they promised to help Ghaund through the winter," I added.
Lucian looked like he might counter, until I raised a brow at him in challenge, then he shrugged, bobbing his head, "Alright, they did promise that," he admitted, smiling a little at himself as he looked back at Estrid. Only she wasn't matching it.
"We were just on our way to tell the Chamber Warriors," I explained.
Estrid jerked back suddenly. "You mean you haven't seen them yet?" she asked
It was hard not to frown at the quick change in demeanor. "No… Why? Is something wrong?"
"Wrong?" she echoed. She slid her gaze up to the trees and back. "Well, I suppose that depends on who you ask."
"What? What do you mean? I'm asking you." She'd been acting strange from the beginning, but now I was really starting to get concerned.
Her sharp brows dropped low. "And I suppose you expect an answer? As soon as you demand it? Isn't that the sort of treatment princesses get?"
Luffie growled.
"Estrid—" Lucian's voice cut off as she switched her glare to him.
"You're taking her side?" she said.
"I'm not taking anyone's side," he corrected. "Estrid, what's wrong? Did the Warriors do something?"
Her brows dipped and I thought her eyes might water; this time her look was all for Lucian. "And what if they did? Would you argue with them?"
Lucian reared back—as suddenly as if he'd been struck. My eyes widened. Luffie flashed the answer to me… as if we all already didn't know it.
"I don't see what that has to do with anything," Lucian said, "If something's happened—"
Estrid's eyes really did tear up now. Mine went wide and I looked helplessly at Lucian, but he was just staring at her. Estrid sniffed, then wiped her eyes. "Oh, go and talk to them then, see if I care," she said. Then she made to turn, but stopped herself before and frowned at me, her expression full of regret.
I shook my head in understanding—even though I didn't really understand at all. Her frown deepened, then she turned and marched away before she could cry again. Tris followed in her wake, causing Arrin—who'd already been whining—to move to the edge of the bridge.
Lucian's expression was pure confusion. He looked between Estrid and the way to the Warrior's chamber, almost as if he wasn't sure he could say what he was about to. "Ellia, I don't think I can… I think I have to—"
"I know," I said, "Go on."
He looked after Estrid, then moved off in the direction she'd gone—quickly breaking into a run to match Arrin.
I frowned in their direction. Luffie walked up beside me, her head at my waist. We were both thinking the same thing—that there was no telling what was going on. Estrid and Lucian spent nearly all their
time together, they were clearly mad about each other, and yet they still hadn't acknowledged that they had any sort of relationship. Whenever I tried to talk to Estrid about it, she usually said something about how strict he was, or how little he liked sailing. And Lucian grew flustered enough in Estrid's presence, let alone if you tried to mention her.
"Do you think something's actually going on with the Warriors?" I asked Luffie.
Her thoughts grew very quiet for a moment, then she presented me with a single picture. The two Yanartians that Lucian and I had passed, pointing us out and whispering. I swallowed, my throat too thick for comfort.
"Come on," I said, "We better hurry."
And you better be wrong, I added in my thoughts.
CYRIC:
We'd taken the lift to the desert floor, then passed hundreds of workers, soldiers, iron-works, weaving downwards into the waterless lake.
The air was somehow hotter and more putrid at the bottom than it had been when the cavern was underground. The constant clanking of metal echoed off the walls. Finally we reached the tent that marked the working place of Silos. It was a generous size, made of thick, deep maroon and purple canvases and velvets, set-up on the bottom floor of the cavern as it had to be to keep Silos close to the Behemoths.
My soldier gave me a look that expressed what he wouldn't say: that he didn't understand why we were down here, or why I'd made a man with an injured foot walk so far. I thought I must have been too kind on the walk down to make him brave enough to question me. Then I pushed back the flap of the tent's entrance. There was a strange smell, but I couldn't see far inside thanks to the lack of fire-light.
"Who's that?" someone called.
There was a sharp hiss and a flash of light as a torch flared up. Silos used it to light a branch of candles. I could see him now, surrounded by the rich hues of his tent, not that he was much a sight. He wore—as he always did—black robes from head to foot that left only his eyes uncovered. It was trademark to his people, Kanthians, and something of sacred importance to them—but since the first time I'd met him in this very cavern (while he'd inspected the injured Behemoths) I'd forced him to remove his head-wear in my presence, and there was no changing that now.
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