That wasn’t me.
“It’s almost time,” Thandi said as he rode up, his mare doing her usual impatient jig.
“I’m ready,” I said, forcing a smile. I could hardly stand to look at him with my mind so full of his sister.
I glanced back at Ellaeni, but she seemed preoccupied.
Thandi nudged Zin forward, and I urged Shadow to follow.
“This is always my favorite part of the fall,” he said. “Nothing stirs the blood quite like a gallop through the hills. Did you do any jumping in your lessons?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m afraid not.”
“Well, beware the ditches. And the logs. Follow the pennant bearers if the terrain gets too rough—they usually take the safer paths, as it’s hard to jump carrying a flag.” He gestured to several riders clad in blue with bright white trim, each one carrying a flag stuck into a holder strapped to his or her stirrup. The pennants rippled in the breeze, long orange triangles of fabric snaking out behind the hindquarters of their horses.
His helpfulness only intensified my guilt, and my magic continued to seethe with nowhere to go. We trotted into the hills, snippets of laughter and rumor drifting through the crowd. Upwind of me, voices spoke of war. Of the Recusants who had been captured. Of the ride against Zumorda. The Gathering wasn’t the only thing stirring people’s blood.
“Are you nervous, my lady?” Thandi asked.
“A little bit,” I admitted.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “This isn’t Shadow’s first Gathering. She’ll take care of you, and so will I.”
I shrank into the saddle, embarrassed. After this long in Mynaria, I shouldn’t have needed anyone to take care of me.
“Where’s Amaranthine?” I asked. Even her name on my lips brought heat to my cheeks.
“Who knows?” Thandi shrugged. “Probably back at the stables. She said something about helping with the mares and foals when they come in.”
We broke into a trot, ending the conversation. As I posted with the rhythm of Shadow’s hoofbeats, the bright, brassy notes of a trumpet call echoed through the trees, urging us onward. Trees lined the wide trail, which skirted the base of the hills rather than twisting up into them like the ones I’d taken with Mare. Thandi and I kept a brisk pace, passing others as we made our way to the front of the group. Ellaeni stayed close too, her presence providing a little comfort. The king’s blue-clad form bobbed ahead of us, the back of his riding jacket emblazoned with the crossed wheat sheaves and arrows of the Mynarian crest in gold thread.
“Let’s ride up with Endalan,” Thandi said, pointing ahead.
At the king’s flank, Lord Kriantz rode a horse unlike any of the others. She stood only a little taller than Shadow, dwarfed by the warhorses all around, and had a peculiar coat that gleamed like polished gold. Lord Kriantz rode with the confident seat and steady reins of a master horseman, the mare’s thin neck arching proudly before him. If his seat hadn’t been so good, and he hadn’t been so lean himself, he might have looked comical astride the beast with her spindly legs, narrow barrel, and strange convex face. Even the horse’s tail was thin, the sparse white strands ending right below her hocks.
“Heya!” Thandi called out to Lord Kriantz. “I was wondering if you’d ever bring out your horse.”
Lord Kriantz grinned. “I’ve enjoyed your warhorses, but riding Pegala will always be like coming home. She’ll still be fresh when your mounts are puffing their way back to the barn.” He patted the horse’s golden neck, earning a flick of the mare’s large ears.
“Maybe so, but you’ll want one of our horses if we ride against Zumorda,” Thandi replied.
“You can count on my sword alongside your own,” Lord Kriantz said.
Thandi nodded, his gaze growing steely.
Their conversation shifted back and forth between horses and war, leaving me no desire to comment. Instead my mind swirled with thoughts I could barely handle—my Affinity, Mare’s tears and kisses, and how increasingly probable it seemed that all this would end in fire and chaos.
We found the broodmare band as the trail opened up into a meadow deep in the heart of the hills. A mare snorted warily as we approached, though we were not the only humans present. Several herd guardians already stood in the midst of the horses, their brown uniforms smudged with the dirt and grass stains of several days’ travel. The guardians mounted as we drew closer, using their horses to gently guide stray mares back into the center of the herd. Colts and fillies pranced alongside their mothers, the most curious ones stepping toward us, ears pricked and short tails flicking from side to side.
Our group split in the middle and cut wide around the edges of the meadow, Thandi indicating for me to follow him, though his mare flattened her ears at Shadow. We stopped on the other side, the other riders following a set of hand signals with which I wasn’t familiar. Though I didn’t know what came next, my heart beat faster in anticipation.
“Get ready,” Thandi said, his face alight with intensity.
We rode forward until the herd of horses broke into a trot. Then the horn sounded. The herd bolted, and we flew with them. The touch of my heels wasn’t needed to urge Shadow forward. I stood in my stirrups as Mare had taught me, using my lower legs to absorb the impact of Shadow’s gallop. In mere seconds we entered the trees, which flashed by far too quickly to count. Shadow’s hooves beat over the earth with the others, barely in control.
I struggled to keep close to Thandi without coming within kicking or biting range of Zin. Ellaeni rode at my flank, her gray horse wild-eyed with the excitement of the gallop. Lord Kriantz had separated from us, his mare’s long legs spiriting her down the trail, a golden ghost amidst the trees. All we could do was follow. My thighs burned, already weak from half a day of riding, and as we crested a hill and began the perilous descent, I grabbed a handful of mane and whispered a prayer to the Six.
The herd funneled into the valley trail, and I breathed a sigh of gratitude as the pace slowed to an easy canter. Shadow still breathed hard, her neck damp and strides labored as she worked to keep up with the warhorses. As Lord Kriantz had promised, his horse barely even sweated, her golden coat still shimmering in the afternoon light. The low, gnarled trees and heavy underbrush kept the herd on the open trail, channeling them safely toward the castle. The hard part was over.
Thandi rode up alongside the king’s black horse, sharing a grin with his father. In that moment, I finally felt Mynarian. There was a future for me with them, and it comforted me. I urged Shadow to extend her strides to catch up to them, to ride where I belonged. I needed to claim my place, to ride where I ought, even though every limb in my body still ached at the thought of Mare.
As I drew within a few horse lengths of the king, a sense of wrongness hit me in the space of a heartbeat just before a burst of violet flame engulfed him.
I screamed.
The king’s horse reared, and Shadow skidded to a halt, nearly catapulting me out of the saddle. I clutched her mane and struggled to right myself as she shied away from the center of the trail. I got control of my reins in time to see the king topple from his horse, purple fire licking at his livery, the golden crest of Mynaria burning across his back as though it had been stitched specifically for that purpose. Liegemen converged on him, yanking off their jackets to snuff the flames. But when they pulled back, the king remained still.
Lord Kriantz and a few liegemen rode into the trees, checking the perimeter for any signs of the attacker. Shadow shifted uneasily beneath me as I gagged on the smell of burned flesh.
Captain Ryka crouched beside the king, putting her cheek to his face. “He’s still breathing!”
Thandi leaped from the saddle, handed Zin’s reins to a nearby rider, and rushed to his father’s side.
“He lives,” Thandi whispered the words like a prayer.
I dismounted from Shadow and clutched my stomach. This couldn’t be my fault. It couldn’t. I would never hurt the king. I would never hurt anyone. I tr
ied to think back to moments ago, whether anything had been smoldering. I felt sick, but not that strange emptiness and exhaustion that often came from using my power. It couldn’t have been me.
Lord Kriantz trotted his mare over. “I couldn’t find anyone,” he said.
Thandi clenched and unclenched his jaw, staring off into the trees for a moment before turning to the liegemen surrounding him. “Croden and Lianna, survey the area again. You with the bay gelding, ride for a medic and a litter, as swiftly as your horse will carry you. The rest of you, ride on. We still have to get the broodmares in.”
Everyone reacted quickly to his confident orders, the horses moving swiftly into the trees and down the trail. For the first time, I saw the man who would be king one day. A strange silence came over the forest as the riders’ hoofbeats faded in the distance. Between the quiet of the forest and the stillness of the king’s body, it was hard to believe that he might survive.
“Is there anything I can do, Your Highness?” Lord Kriantz asked.
Thandi looked up at him blearily. “Stay close. I may need your counsel, friend.”
“As you wish, Your Highness.”
“How could this happen?” Thandi croaked. “He doesn’t bear the mark of any weapon.”
Lord Kriantz spoke with gravity. “This was no ordinary attack, Your Highness. There must be magic behind it. How else could the flames burn violet?”
Thandi’s expression darkened. “If a magic user is responsible, we will find him.” He hung his head over his father’s body. “We will find him, and we will quarter him.”
I trembled. There was no mercy in his voice. There would be no room to explain that the existence of my Affinity did not make me responsible.
“Perhaps it is time to begin testing all those present today with the Recusant artifact,” Captain Ryka suggested. “The perpetrator could be hiding among us.”
Numbness spread through me.
“Yes.” Thandi nodded his agreement. “At once.”
THIRTY-FOUR
Mare
THE CHARRED MASS ON THE LITTER BARELY resembled a human, much less my father. I hit my fist against the stone wall of the stables over and over as the medics converged on the litter and whisked him away, Captain Ryka following swiftly behind. As angry as I was with my father for so many things, the thought of him so close to death undid me. After all, he was the only parent I had left.
I should have been on that ride, and I would have been if I could have handled being around Denna without my heart lighting up like a bonfire. If any harm had come to her, I would never forgive myself. I didn’t follow the medics—there was nothing I could do. Instead I waited at the door of the stables, ready to lend a hand with the horses. At least that was one thing I knew how to manage. I brushed the grit from my hand and stepped out into the dusk.
Lord Kriantz rode in first, the neck of his golden horse still arched and lively. I held her as he dismounted, and then I passed her reins to his private groom.
I looked him in the eyes, willing him to know what I asked without having to speak the words.
“He may still live, my lady,” he said gravely.
I nodded absently, my eyes darting to the other riders coming in. They all wore the same expressions. Exhaustion. Fear. Sorrow.
Lord Kriantz clasped my arm gently. “I am so sorry, Mare. If there is anything I can do for you or your family—”
“What happened?” I interrupted.
He leaned closer.
“The attack was magical,” he said, his voice pitched so that only I could hear.
I stiffened, and he stepped back. That didn’t make sense. It seemed as though most of the local Recusants had been captured. Denna would never hurt anyone. Who else could there be on the loose with an Affinity?
“Did things go well with the mares and foals?” he asked more loudly.
“Yes. Fine. They’ll be ready for the culling . . . if it goes on next week as scheduled,” I said.
The high-pitched whinny of a weanling calling for its mother echoed from the holding pen. The sound cut through my heart. Though they’d be fine in a few days’ time, today the loss of their mothers was still raw. Everything that mattered to them was gone.
“Good. Please let me know how I can help.” Lord Kriantz put a comforting hand on my shoulder.
Thandi walked in, already off his horse. Zin’s head hung low, her sides streaked with dry sweat. She heaved a sigh as a groom took her reins.
“How bad is it?” I asked him.
Thandi shook his head, his blue eyes inscrutable.
“Tell me how bad it is,” I said, grabbing him by the shoulders like I used to when we were young.
“It’s bad, Mare, all right?” He waved me off. “I can’t talk now. I have . . . I have things I need to take care of.”
I took his forearm to stop him for a moment. “I’m here if you need me,” I said.
He squeezed my arm in return and nodded.
Lord Kriantz gestured to Thandi. “Let’s get to the castle. The Directorate will need you. Mare can walk in with Princess Dennaleia.”
My disloyal heart quickened.
Thandi nodded mechanically and followed Lord Kriantz up the hill, four liegemen falling into place around them. Thandi’s shoulders didn’t look wide enough to carry the burden of being king yet, even for a day. How strange to think of my brother as a man. A little over a year younger than me, and already a man. A king, if the Six claimed my father.
I sat down on a hay bale and leaned back against a stall, watching the parade of hooves go by as the last of the Gatherers rode in. I didn’t stand until Denna and Shadow approached the barn, and then I flew to my feet to help her from the saddle. Her drawn face barely brightened when she saw me, but that flicker was enough.
She tumbled from Shadow’s back into my arms, all salt and sweat and bedraggled curls that still smelled sweet as summer roses. A groom led her horse away, and I pulled her close, holding her as if she were my only anchor.
“It was so awful, Mare,” Denna murmured in my ear. “He was right in front of me.”
I pulled back and took a ragged breath. If only I had been there for my father—and for her.
“But he’ll live. He has to,” she said. She relayed the story of the afternoon in a trembling voice.
“But where did the fire come from?” I asked.
“I wish I knew, but it wasn’t me. I swear! I would never hurt anyone.” Her eyes welled. “But Lord Kriantz . . . he looked at me afterward as though he was looking through me. I think he might know about my Affinity.” Her face was pinched with fear.
“He couldn’t possibly know,” I said. “His people don’t use magic. Most Sonnenborne tribes don’t even worship the Six.”
“But what if he tells people it was me?” she whispered.
“Why would he do that? He’s been trying to help us.”
“I don’t know. I’m afraid,” she admitted. “Thandi said if they found the mage, they’d kill him. Captain Ryka suggested testing everyone on the ride today. Thandi agreed. Who else will there be to blame?”
“No one is going to kill you,” I said.
“I missed you today,” she said. “Until . . . until the accident, I could hardly think of anything else.” She looked like a scared little girl, as lost as one of the weanlings calling for its mother. But the only person she called for was me, and that call could be answered.
“I missed you too,” I said, my voice raw.
We left the stables in silence and held hands through the garden where no one could see us. I followed Denna to her rooms like a lost dog. I sat at her vanity and sent a page for a change of clothes while Auna bathed her in the adjacent room, feeling like I might lose all sense of myself if I didn’t stay close.
After Denna dismissed Auna for the night, she finally whispered my name.
“Mare.”
The way she said it sounded warm. Like home. Like the fire in the hearth and the flush in my cheek
s when she drew near.
“Denna,” I answered.
She crossed the room and took one of my hands, stood up on her toes, and brushed her cheek against mine. The contact sent a shiver through my body. No matter how many times we touched, I would never get used to the perfect way she felt against my skin.
I wanted to tell her how dishonorable it was to the crown that I stood before her, dishonorable to allow my heart to beat the way it did for her. I’d let down so many people before, but this was a new level, even for me. But she needed me. And I needed her. And damn her head—it fitted on my shoulder like the only place it was meant to be.
She pulled me to the hearth and we sat down together. I took her hand into my lap and traced the lines on her palm.
“Lord Kriantz asked me to marry him, you know,” I said.
She drew back her hand and closed her fingers.
“What did you tell him?” she whispered.
The weight of the question sat between us. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream or weep.
“Nothing yet. I’m still considering it.” I shrugged. All it would take for me to turn him down was the promise of Denna’s love—the promise of a future for us together. But she had to offer it without being pressured. She had everything to lose.
“You have to be joking,” she said. “We still have work to do. There’s still someone out there we have to stop.” A spark popped out of the fire and sizzled out on the stone floor.
I eyed it warily, and she took a deep breath.
“I can still help that cause if I’m married to Lord Kriantz. Maybe there is more he could tell us.” I finally met her eyes, wishing they didn’t make my stomach feel so strange. Wishing they didn’t make me want to kiss her.
“But if we can’t figure out what’s going on, the kingdoms will fall to war with Zumorda. And you’ll be down there too close to the front lines. . . .” Her voice shook.
“What makes you think I care? What does it even matter? I can’t stay here, Denna. I can’t watch you marry my brother.” My voice almost broke with the words.
Of Fire and Stars Page 24