Of Fire and Stars

by Audrey Coulthurst

  Denna grinned and nudged Shadow into a walk. We made our way into the woods, and I tried to forget the disastrous morning.

  “I suppose you didn’t have any luck getting your father to hear our evidence,” Denna said.

  My impulse was to respond with a biting reference to where he and the Directorate could shove parts of each other’s anatomy, but I stopped the comment on the tip of my tongue. Denna was only trying to help.

  “It was a disaster. My father won’t listen, and neither will Captain Ryka. Lord Kriantz was the only one who seemed to think there might be merit to what we found,” I said. “And it ended with my father’s usual speech about how I ought to be getting married so that I’m out of his sight.” The anger rose in me again, and with it, hurt. I broke a thin branch hanging low over the trail, wincing as it snapped in my palm.

  “I’m sorry,” Denna said. “You deserve better. They should have listened to you.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. The world didn’t owe me, or anyone else, half a piece of horse shit. Flicker was the only one I could count on to carry me.

  “No. You do. You deserve to be heard.” Denna shook her head. “At least you tried. We did something. That’s more than the rest of them can say.”

  “It’s not over,” I said. “We have to stop them, or at least make sure they’re making the right choice. I want to stand behind my kingdom, not against it. And what if someone is still out there who could attack again?”

  “We’ll keep watching and listening. Maybe it’s time to see if there’s anything to be learned at court,” Denna said. “We can do this.”

  “You’re right,” I said. Her support eased my fears.

  We continued in companionable silence until the trail widened and opened into a field.

  “I know what else might help,” Denna said. She shot me a mischievous smile. “Race?” She nudged Shadow into a canter without waiting for my answer.

  I squeezed Flicker’s sides and we tore out across the meadow, the horses running with the wind at our backs. The cool air and the speed of the horses brought tears to my eyes, and I let out a whoop of excitement as Denna urged Shadow into a gallop, Flicker and I at her left flank. I glanced over to see a smile on her face and not the slightest bit of fear. Her green eyes sparkled in contrast with her rosy cheeks, joy so clearly written on her face that it swallowed me too. Watching her made me light-headed, my anger and sadness forgotten. I half expected to take flight from the saddle and soar into the sky.

  We finally pulled the horses up on the far side of the field and they huffed with exertion, sweat beginning to slick the hair on their necks.

  “It’s like flying,” Denna said, wiping the wind tears from her face.

  “There isn’t anything else like it in the world, is there?” The gallop had cleared my head, and the world felt new again.

  “No, I’ve never done anything like that,” Denna replied. “I feel like I have half an idea of what it’s like to be free.”

  I smiled at her, but it was bittersweet. Neither of us would ever truly be free. She would be married by the time winter came, and if my father had anything to say about it, my marriage would follow not long after. The thought crushed me. Freedom was so fleeting for us, as swift to come and go as a breath.

  We walked the horses around the perimeter of the field and up a trail leading to a small copse of trees. Low, thick branches provided a good place to tie the horses and a sheltered place for our picnic. Laughing, we struggled to pin down the blanket and the food to keep the wind from picking everything up and whisking it away. The horses flicked their ears toward our conversation, letting their lids grow heavy until they napped, each with a hind leg cocked. For a while, the lives Denna and I led down at the castle disappeared.

  When we finished our food, I stretched out on the blanket, closing my eyes and letting the sun warm my face. The clean, cool wind carried the smell of grass and earth. As I lay there, Denna rested her head on my stomach, then turned her face to the sky, her eyes shut.

  Her closeness made me afraid to move, as if I could destroy the moment with a single twitch. There was such innocence in her gesture, and yet it made me long for something decidedly not innocent. If only she didn’t belong to my brother. For a moment I indulged the thought of pulling her up alongside me until I could feel her long lashes brush against my cheek, until her lips were only a whisper away—

  “Are you holding your breath?” she asked.

  I exhaled in a rush. “Oops,” I said, grateful she couldn’t see my face as heat rose to my cheeks.

  She laughed a little. “It’s all right, I’m not going to use this opportunity to stab you or tie you up or something.”

  “You’d never be able to take me!” I said.

  “I know I wouldn’t. You’re strong.”

  “Not all the time,” I said, but my cheeks warmed even more with the flattery. Was she flirting with me? What a dangerous game that would be, especially given the uncomfortable feelings the idea stirred. I could not have her. It was nonnegotiable.

  “Will you come to the chamber music before dinner tonight?” she asked.

  “I wasn’t invited,” I replied.

  “Consider this your formal invitation.” She reached for my cachets, skimming her fingers over the bands and sending a burst of goose bumps up my arm. If she had any idea how that made me feel, she’d stop. But I didn’t want her to.

  “How many cachets do you have?” she asked.

  “Thirty-four cachets for forty-three horses,” I answered. “The thick one is a ten-horse bracelet. I need to get some of the others redone that way.”

  “So many,” Denna murmured. Her fingers continued to play across my wrist, turning and twisting the cachets until she finally set my arm down across her belly. I closed my eyes, remembering the first day we’d met, her luminous green eyes shining up at me as I rested my hand in that same place and reminded her how to breathe.

  We lay there quietly, the seconds turning to sunlengths, until the inevitable time came when we had to go home. We packed up reluctantly and mounted, the horses eagerly pricking their ears toward the barn and their evening meal. We took it easy on the ride back, talking and laughing about nothing, and in those moments I knew what Denna meant when she told me only riding had ever made her feel so alive.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Dennaleia

  THE SUNNY AFTERNOON GAVE WAY TO A COOL EVENING that settled in the stones of the castle and left everyone craving warmth as we gathered in the drawing room for an evening of music. Heat radiated from the earthenware cup I held close, warming my hands and sending the spicy aroma of cinnamon curling up to my nose. The smell created a bridge between my old life and new, mulled wine reminding me of winter holidays with my family, but something in the scent also bringing Mare to mind. I shivered and smiled into my cup, recalling how it felt to lie with my head pillowed on her that afternoon. She was so strong, yet so soft. Beneath the smell of horses, earth, and the still-damp grass was a fragrance uniquely hers, spicy sweet like my wine.

  High on the pleasures of the afternoon, I had finally written to my family. Though I omitted my adventure in the city, I did tell them the most important thing—that I now had allies I could trust and rely on. Between Ellaeni and Mare, I had the beginnings of friendships I knew would give me strength and support through the years to come in Mynaria. This news would give my parents confidence that, in spite of everything, things were unfolding as they should for my ascension.

  Riding Shadow and composing letters had left me weary but content, but the peace of the evening didn’t last long. Escorted by two liegemen, a messenger stumbled into the drawing room, barely able to stay on his feet, his clothes filthy from days of hard travel. He stopped before Captain Ryka and the king, executing a bow made sloppy by fatigue.

  Ryka stepped out of the crowd. “Your report, soldier?”

  “Zumordan bandits,” he said. “They raided a town on our side of the border, in the southeast.
The last town on the road to Kartasha.”

  The room filled with murmurs as everyone digested the news.

  “The Directorate will have to reconvene tonight,” said the king.

  “Ugh,” Thandi said under his breath beside me.

  I squeezed his arm reassuringly. It had been a long day of meetings for him already.

  “We’ll do it immediately after dinner,” the king declared. “Captain, please question the messenger for further details and see to the preparations.”

  Captain Ryka saluted and disappeared to attend to the tasks the king had requested of her. I didn’t understand how this had happened. While the focus had been on rounding up Recusants within Lyrra, the borders should have already been fortified. That had been an issue even before Cas’s death, and Captain Ryka was the one responsible for overseeing the defense of the kingdom. Perhaps Mare’s suspicions about her weren’t so out of line after all.

  From that moment on, conversations among the nobles revolved around Zumorda and what countermeasures needed to be taken. Glasses were drained more quickly than usual, a third round already being served while the musicians were still setting up their instruments.

  In spite of the larger problems, my primary concern was whether or not Mare would remember to attend. She would undoubtedly want to hear the news about the border right away. I hovered behind Thandi on the periphery of several conversations, smiling when required but having difficulty focusing. Lord Kriantz never strayed far from either Thandi or King Aturnicus as we worked our way around the room. Hopefully he was doing what he could to get them to consider Mare’s evidence.

  “We’ll be the first to pledge our riders as border support,” Lord Kriantz told a group of anxious courtiers.

  “We are lucky to have you on our side, Endalan,” Thandi said.

  “As we discussed, it may be wise for you to return to your holdings soon,” the king said. “We’ll need your people strong and united to take on Zumorda if that’s what it comes to. We can’t have the enemy eroding our defenses before a war has even begun.”

  Lord Kriantz nodded. “I’ll get my affairs in order as soon as the countermeasures are agreed upon and send for a new ambassador to take my place. My people will need me as a leader more than as a diplomat in the coming moons.”

  Hilara stood to the right of the king, her face stony. She said nothing, but her stillness was more terrifying than any of her cutting words. Without saying anything, she turned and walked away from the conversation, which continued on without her.

  I anxiously rearranged chairs as everyone settled in for the performance, saving a place for Mare by my side. I pulled the chair so close that the wooden arms nearly touched, and then nudged it back in the other direction, but only a finger’s length.

  Mare had to come.

  As the musicians took their places and waited for the cue to begin, she appeared at the door. My heart raced at the sight of her, in complete contrast to what I had been telling myself all night—that I would feel calmer once she arrived. Though she was late as always, this time the reason was written on her body. Each step she took sent shimmers over the iridescent material of her skirt, the blue fabric cascading to her feet like a waterfall. For once her dress was properly laced, showing off her narrow waist and every curve that departed from it.

  My mouth went dry. Thoughts of the messenger, Ryka, and conspiracies against the crown fell away, leaving only a sharp pang of longing and the swirl of my magic tingling to the surface. Even her hair was perfectly in place, all of it up in a series of waves and twists so complex, I couldn’t decipher the architecture of it all. She smiled at me, her eyes sparkling in the low light of the room.

  I tore my eyes away, aware too late that I’d been staring. Judging by the peculiar silence that heralded her arrival, the rest of the room had experienced a similar reaction.

  “Good evening, Your Highness,” her familiar alto voice spoke in front of me.

  “Hello,” I squeaked.

  “You’d think no one in this room had ever seen a princess before,” she said nonchalantly.

  She didn’t look like a princess tonight. She looked like a queen.

  “Close your mouth or you’ll swallow a bug.” She grinned, her eyes dancing with amusement as she seated herself beside me.

  “I . . . I . . . wasn’t expecting—”

  “Nice to see you dressed appropriately for a change.” Thandi’s voice shot over my shoulder toward Mare as he sat down beside me.

  “Bite my backside,” Mare replied, her expression placid.

  The musicians began to play, but they were impossible to focus on. Even the lilting flute melody of a tune I loved could not distract me from her. No matter where I looked in the room, it was as if she burned beside me.

  My wine was gone in moments, but the fuzziness in my head did little to distract me. Mare’s hand lay over the arm of her chair, her fingers tapping along with the music. She had gotten her cachets rewoven, the four wide ones and three narrow drawing attention to her strong, graceful wrist scattered with light freckles. I shifted to rest my arm on the side of my own chair until my hand lay so close that I could almost touch her.

  My eyes charted their way across her face. The powder she wore could not fully hide the delicate freckles scattered like stars across her cheekbones. I wanted to trace the constellations in them, to memorize each and every pattern I could find on her skin and warm it with my touch. I kept still and tried to keep my breathing even, extending one finger tentatively across the gap between our chairs.

  The room burst into applause, and her hand lifted from the chair to join in. Thandi nudged my other side, and I applauded numbly. I tried to clear my head, but I’d hardly heard a note of the music. Nothing else, not even Thandi, could command my attention with Mare beside me looking as she did.

  When the music began again, she folded her hands in her lap, straightening to listen. I did the same and accepted another cup of wine from a servant in hopes that it would still my trembling hands. Once the last piece of music ended and the applause died away, I finally had an opportunity to talk to Mare.

  I reached toward her. “Mare, I need to talk to—”

  “Dennaleia, have you met Lord Balenghren?” Thandi asked, gesturing to a paunchy man across the room with Ellaeni on his arm.

  Ellaeni’s annoyed expression told me everything I needed to know about Lord Balenghren.

  “Actually, I wanted to talk to Mare for a minute,” I said.

  “You’ve been spending so much time with her lately.” He frowned. “Surely it can wait until tomorrow.”

  I stared back at Mare over my shoulder as he led me away. She shrugged, and from the corner of my eye I saw Lord Kriantz already working his way through the room to her.

  Lord Kriantz took her arm, whispering something in her ear. She laughed, her head thrown back and her elegant throat silhouetted in the light behind her. They drifted toward the refreshment table as Thandi tugged me in the opposite direction. I kept my head always slightly turned in her direction, waiting for her to let go of his arm, trying to catch her eye, but she followed him out the door without her eyes ever leaving his face. As she left the room, the light inside me was snuffed.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Mare

  OUT IN THE HALLWAY, SCONCES BURNED STEADILY with warm light in contrast to the slight chill in the air. I might have even enjoyed the soft and unfamiliar rustle of my skirts around my legs if disappointment hadn’t swallowed me when Thandi dragged Denna away after the music.

  I sighed. Dressing myself properly to surprise her had certainly had the impact I’d hoped for, and I’d liked the way she looked at me—maybe more than I should have. Yet I had still ended up on Lord Kriantz’s arm at the end of the performance instead of in her receiving room talking like I’d hoped.

  “What troubles you, my lady?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. No one needed to know about my confused feelings for Denna.

  “I ha
rdly believe that. Your expression changed the moment we left the room.” He looked at me appraisingly, concern in his dark eyes.

  “I’m a bit tired, my lord,” I lied.

  “Well now, knowing that, I’m even more grateful that you made it to the music tonight. It’s always lovely to see you. And, since I have your ear, there was something I wanted to discuss.”

  “Oh?” I quickened my pace. Maybe he had news about the knife.

  “Yes. Perhaps you’d like to take dinner with me in a private room?”

  “Of course,” I agreed.

  I let him lead me to one of the many private alcoves off the great hall where courtiers sometimes entertained smaller groups. Lord Kriantz must have known I would accept his invitation, for when he pulled back the curtain to the dining alcove and invited me to sit, a feast was already spread on the table. Though fall had nearly arrived, he had chosen a summer meal—grapes, soft cheese, rolls stuffed with peppered meat and slathered with spicy fruit sauce, and even a small bottle of sweet white wine infused with brandy.

  “Is there any chance you might return to the Directorate?” Lord Kriantz asked once the pages had left.

  “Why bother? They won’t listen to me even if I come,” I replied. “Did anything interesting happen this afternoon?”

  “That depends on what qualifies as interesting to you,” he said.

  He was such a politician. No wonder my father and Thandi liked him so much.

  “Don’t know.” I shrugged. “Have any of the captured Recusants provided any useful information?” I popped a grape into my mouth, not expecting him to tell me anything helpful.

  “So far, the investigation hasn’t led to much,” Lord Kriantz said. “The questioning hasn’t been very organized, and no one knows how to test whether or not specific people are magic users. The worse news is that we’re receiving more and more reports that the Recusants are popping up in cities all over Mynaria. It’s far more widespread than we thought.”