Rook and Shadow (Salarian Chronicles Book 1)
Page 1
Rook and Shadow
G. Marshall
.
Copyright © 2015 Angela Marshall
All rights reserved.
Published by Avanell Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-0692372432
To Abby
We’ve told stories together since we were
old enough to hold plastic dinosaurs.
I…. Love….You…
Table of Contents
Map of Salaria
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Map of Salaria
Prologue
The Fairy Snow
From The History of Salaria
Long ago, fairies lived in every kingdom and interacted with humans regularly. They often served as godmothers to human children and granted wishes to those who proved themselves worthy. Humans welcomed the fairies into their lives.
The fairies built a great city in the Weeping Mountains, so named because the salt they used for magic ran down the mountains each spring when the snow melted. One spring, so much snow melted that the salt spread throughout the entire peninsula, killing every green thing and making the water undrinkable. The humans fled.
The fairies left the peninsula soon after this disaster. As a parting gift, they covered the land with enchanted snow to heal the salt’s damage. Humans returned to the peninsula, formed a new kingdom, and named it Salaria: the Kingdom of Salt.
Minister of History’s Revision
Divinia became the first fairy to visit since the fairy snow when she blessed Princess Salara and became her godmother. This act of goodwill is encouraging, but may not mean that the fairies intend to return to Salaria.
Minister of History’s Revision
The Fairy Divinia did not come to Princess Salara’s tenth birthday party. This is the traditional time for a fairy godmother to give her godchild a first wish.
The Fairy’s Blessing
Lady Alma snapped her fingers. The tiny dress on her worktable changed from purple to blue. She frowned and snapped again. The silk turned pink.
“Cliché, but it really does look better that way.”
She waved her hands. Red ribbons tied themselves into bows. A needle flew through air, sewing them onto the dress.
“Your technique has improved, darling.”
Lady Alma heard the voice before she saw the golden sparkles. Both made her frown.
A tall woman in a green gown appeared. Her skin glowed, illuminated by a light somewhere inside her. She kept her delicate golden wings folded behind her back. Her hair, which glowed even brighter than her skin and wings, hung loose. The green dress and her hair rippled although there was no breeze in the room.
“Divinia,” Lady Alma said. “What a surprise.”
“And a pleasant one, I’m sure.”
Divinia walked around the room, examining the bolts of fabric and spools of thread.
“Is this what you’ve done with your life, Alma? Become a common seamstress? That is a shame. You always had such potential.”
She rested her hand over a carved wooden box on the table. Alma’s eyes narrowed.
“Is that why you’ve come? After all these years?”
“Well, you’re obviously not using it. Do you mind? I know it was a gift, but I really could use it for a project.”
Lady Alma shrugged. Divinia smiled and opened the box. A faint glow escaped it. She pulled a silver necklace out, weighed it in her palm, and tucked it into the folds of her skirt.
The door opened.
“Lady Alma, are you ready yet? I-”
The woman stopped and stared at the fairy. Divinia stared back. Lady Alma’s lips twitched upwards into a smile.
“Your Majesty, may I introduce the Fairy Divinia? Divinia, this is Queen Ingrid of Salaria.”
The Queen smiled.
“Oh, you’ve actually come! Of course I hoped, but I never thought you’d actually- Oh, Nicholas will be so surprised!”
She clasped the fairy’s hands in her own. Divinia shot Alma a questioning look. Alma’s smile widened.
“I’m sure you have a lot to discuss. I’ll just take this down to the nursery.”
“Please do, Alma. The colors are perfect.”
Lady Alma curtsied and left the room. Divinia gulped.
“As you, uh, said, Your Majesty. I have come.”
The Queen giggled.
“Oh, it is marvelous. They said it wouldn’t work, but I had to try.”
“And it has paid off?”
The words sounded more like a question than Divinia intended.
“As soon as I realized I was pregnant, I wrote a letter to the fairies. Nicholas said it would never reach them. Said they didn’t read letters from Salaria. But I had to try.”
Divinia examined the Queen’s thin figure.
“And you have had the child?”
“Only a few days ago! You’re not so very late. I’m sure I can convince the historians to write that you came on the day of her birth. That sounds much more dramatic. Now, I had some names picked out, but of course as the godmother it is your right to name her.”
Queen Ingrid grabbed Divinia’s arm and pulled her down the hallway.
“If you have already named her, I don’t want to-”
“Nonsense! Nicholas and I hadn’t settled on anything. Lucky for us, we haven’t christened her yet. A few more minutes, and you would have been too late. Nicholas, this is the Fairy Divinia. She’s here to bless our daughter.”
The King looked up from his desk. He nodded to the fairy.
“If my records are correct, you are the first fairy to enter Salaria since the fairy snow. To what do we owe this honor?”
Divinia’s hand tightened around the charm in her pocket. It would be much easier to tell the truth. Much simpler. The King and Queen would surely understand.
She looked from the King’s skeptical face to the Queen’s hopeful one and took a deep breath.
“I have, of course, come to bless your daughter.”
The Queen jumped up and down and clapped her hands. The King’s face relaxed.
“We will need to choose the gift carefully. Perhaps we should delay the christening so we have time to consider it properly.”
“Nonsense! Lady Alma will have her dressed by now. I’m sure Divinia can suggest something suitable.”
“Perhaps generosity,” King Nicholas said.
“No good,” Divinia interrupted. “She’ll bankrupt the kingdom before she can walk. Kindness isn’t a good one either. You need a strong backbone to rule a kingdom. Difficult if you’re too kind.”
“But she won’t be ruling,” Queen Ingrid said. “Of course we’ll have a son. I mean-”
She blushed. King Nicholas nodded and turned to the fairy.
/> “We do intend to have a male heir to take the throne.”
“A traditional blessing then. May I suggest beauty? It is always a favorite.”
Please let them take beauty. Please.
Ingrid’s eyes widened.
“Beauty! Oh, how perfect! Come with me at once. Can you bless her in front of the whole kingdom? Because they’re gathered outside waiting for the christening.”
Divinia reviewed the spell for creating beauty while the Queen dragged her through the castle. A wailing noise interrupted her thoughts. Every time she had almost worked out the words for the spell, another yell distracted her.
“Why are your torture chambers so near your rooms?” she asked.
“Torture chambers? Oh, the noise. Yes, that’s our daughter. She has such healthy lungs. She’s been crying like that since she was born.”
Unacceptable. Beauty would do her no good with a voice like that. Divinia revised the spell in her head. An enchanted voice would benefit the kingdom more than anything right now. Now she just needed a name. What did one name a human child?
She blinked in the sunlight when the Queen pushed her onto a balcony. The entire kingdom had gathered in the courtyard below to see the newborn princess. Commoners stood huddled on the ground. Lords and ladies watched from windows. A few, the most important, stood in the corners of the balcony. A painter had set up an easel and sketched the scene.
The cradle, complete with crying baby, sat in the middle. Lady Alma stooped over it, straightening the princess’s cap. She frowned when she saw Divinia.
“Your Majesty, what is she doing here?”
“Oh, she’s going to bless the princess!”
Lady Alma’s jaw tightened.
“Your Majesty, I must object. This fairy-”
“Oh, I know it hasn’t been done in a while, Alma, but that’s what makes it so exciting!”
Lady Alma turned to the King.
“King Nicholas, please reconsider. Divinia-”
Had already started. The crowd’s cheers at her introduction drowned out Lady Alma’s voice. Divinia picked the baby up awkwardly and snapped her fingers. Golden dust and sparkles filled the courtyard. Peasants and nobles alike blinked at the bright storm of magic centered around the crying baby.
Lady Alma pushed her way through it.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Just go home. She doesn’t need your blessing.”
“Don’t be jealous, Alma. Just because you didn’t appreciate my work doesn’t mean others won’t. Now stand back. You don’t want any of the beauty to land on you.”
Divinia giggled and hugged the child tighter. She spoke the words of the spell, thrust the princess into Lady Alma’s arms, and disappeared in a flash of light.
The Fairy Divinia’s Spell
Spoken over Princess Salara on the day of her birth
From The History of Salaria
Dark as a rook’s wing, hair flows like the Ghone.
Night prism eyes reflect colors unknown.
Moonlight complexion, pearly reflection.
By every standard, you are perfection.
Radiant voice like the song of a star.
Reddest of roses, loveliest by far.
I name thee Salara, Salarian princess,
Born to be queen of them all.
Ideals align, beauty be thine.
Names, souls, and destinies all intertwine.
Chapter 1
I crept through my dark bedroom, pushed the tapestry on the wall aside, and crawled through the opening behind it. Seda, my kitten, ran between my legs and tripped me as he clawed the hem of my night gown. I stood still until he tired of the game. Slivers of moonlight filtered through cracks in the stone. Seda’s white fur caught the light as he ran.
As my eyes adjusted I could follow his shape against the dark stones. When we reached the end of the tunnel, even more moonlight flooded through the rotting trap door above us. I climbed the rock wall, and Seda climbed my nightgown until he sat on my shoulder.
Fresh sea air flooded the dank tunnel as I opened the door and climbed onto the tower. Stars twinkled overhead, fading gradually into the predawn light.
Seda walked on the edge of the tower railing, watching birds fly over the ocean. I stood motionless, soaking in the view and solitude. Waves crashed on the shore far below me and drowned out the voices of sailors and merchants getting an early start on the docks.
I joined Seda at the edge and leaned over it. A narrow staircase without a railing wound around the tower. I climbed it once in the middle of the night, clinging to the wall and hoping no one noticed my white nightgown against the dark stone. I expected the stairs to lead somewhere interesting. The castle treasury, perhaps. Or even beyond the castle to a different part of the city. Instead, they led me to the castle’s main garden. A disappointing reward for such a dangerous climb, since I visited the garden often. I did not use the stairs again.
Although the staircase stopped at the garden, the tower stretched downwards and blended into the town below. Castlemont, the capital of Salaria, was divided into tiers. Ramps made of large stones and packed dirt connected the flat platforms of earth circling the mountain. Without the tiers, the mountain ground would be too steep for a city. Top levels held large houses inhabited by nobility. The middle tiers, home to artists and servants, held humbler dwellings. Individual houses in Lower Castlemont were indistinguishable from one another. If there were walkways between the shacks, they must be very narrow. The lower part of the city looked like one enormous roof, patched and faded and badly needing repair.
At the bottom, the Ghone River spilled into the sea, and a port just outside Castlemont’s protective wall bustled with activity. Sailors loaded crates of salt and checked ropes on massive ships with fluttering white sails. Smaller vessels sailed up the Ghone into the heart of Salaria. They disappeared into the forest, although the sails of larger ships floated above the trees like ghosts. Beyond the forest, open fields and tiny villages stretched to the Weeping Mountains, the source of the Ghone. I could just make out the silhouette of the mountain range in the light of a sun not yet risen.
I rummaged through the crate I kept on the tower. Under the books on magic technique I had sneaked out of the library, I found my gold opera glasses. I turned to the ocean, examining the ships too far away to see without aid. The wind pulled strands of hair from my floor length black braid and whipped my face with them. The usual ships sailed along the coast. Navy vessels, both men and ships clean and polished and identical. I skipped past them. The merchant ships intrigued me. Their stained sails and tattered crews hinted at stories I could only imagine, and they had almost as many canons on their decks as the naval vessels to protect against pirates.
I watched the flags flutter in the breeze. None of the ships in sight flew the flag of New Salaria. Surely the delegation would not be delayed another day? The ocean glowed pink as the sun progressed towards the horizon.
Too near the horizon. I needed to hurry back.
I climbed through the trap door and pulled Seda with me. He yowled as I shut it and carried him back down the tunnel. Golden sunlight slipped through cracks now, but it was still much darker than being outside. Before my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I reached my room and pushed aside the tapestry blocking the tunnel entrance. I took a moment to adjust it so no one would discover my secret. I wouldn’t have found the passage without Seda’s help, and I had lived in this room my entire life. The secret tunnel continued past my room to Lady Alma’s studio and the council chambers, although I never went that way. Too many courtiers wandering around, looking for the latest gossip.
I jumped into bed and tried to smooth my braid. Hopeless. I snapped my fingers, trying to summon magic to help. Nothing happened. My hair remained a tangled mess. If I was lucky, everyone would assume I had been having bad dreams. Rumors would spread throughout the kingdom that nightmares troubled the sleep of Salaria’s greatest treasure, but everyone would forget about it in a
few days. They would have new gossip after my birthday celebration. I closed my eyes, relaxed my body, and waited.
A breeze rustled through my hair when the door opened, but I did not stir. I kept my eyes closed and my breathing slow and even. Scrapes, scuffles and whispers echoed through my room. They always tried to be quiet, but they seldom were. At least thick carpets muffled the footsteps. I listened for sounds out of the ordinary. My birthday was tomorrow. According to tradition, my fairy godmother should come for a visit. Had the Fairy Divinia come early? Did a fairy’s footsteps sound any different?
A string quartet began to play my aria from our latest opera production. I waited. As the violins hit their highest note, I turned my head and opened my eyes.
No fairy. Just the usual crowd. I smiled at them to hide my disappointment.
Divinia would come tomorrow. The Colonial Delegation would have a safe journey.
Everything would be fine.
Lady Alma, my personal designer, opened the curtains with a snap of her fingers. Light streamed down on me. My tangled hair reflected dark colors on the walls. Lady Alma’s hair also did a fair bit of reflecting; she wore a pink wig covered in diamonds that towered high above her head. The pink contrasted nicely with her warm Castanian complexion. I once overheard a Duchess complain that Lady Alma had the skin of a sailor as if she spent all her time working in the sun. Lady Alma refused to let her naturally tan skin stop her from making bold fashion choices.
“Night prism eyes reflect colors unknown,” Mother said, quoting the spell Divinia spoke over me on the day of my birth.
Because of that spell, I am my nation’s greatest treasure. Those words changed my life. They also rhymed. Mother embraced poetry with a passion after the blessing, and I have been surrounded by poets ever since.
I smiled at Mother and nodded to the group of courtiers and artists standing in the back of the room. Sir Quill, Minister of Poetry and unmistakable in his hat that doubled as an inkwell, stepped forward and spoke.