Elena turned and touched her hand to the woven wall. It only took a moment for flame to come to life there. Then she threw flames up from her hand, to the roof. She didn’t look at him, just watched as the thatch and the wall caught. More fire lit on her fingers. “Go. Run.”
He stared. She’d been lighting candles, once she lit Osias’s pipe in jest. He’d thought that was the extent of the magic inherited from Truls when his death brought her back to life.
Her voice was tight. “I am not asking, Night Lord.”
Bruche called out a single name: Osias. He tried to get Draken to step back.
Draken stared, resisting Bruche’s pull. “No! Elena. Come!”
Behind him, Moonlings cried out. Elena threw more fire at the wall and at the other open side as Moonlings appeared. Cries of warning turned into screams of pain. One Moonling wrapped her arms over her flaming head, stumbling off into the woods. Embers from the roof drifted to the dirt floor. Choking smoke clogged Draken’s throat. Elena screamed at Draken, something inarticulate, and threw more fire at another wall. The thatch crackled with sharp heat.
It finally registered, what she was doing. He wanted to call to her again but she had commanded him. And the baby would not last long in here. She opened her eyes and gasped out a tiny cry. He realized an ember had landed on her forehead. He swept it away with his thumb, drew his sword, and turned to face attack. Behind him Moonlings screamed as fire leapt to the trees overhead. A spear came his way and he knocked it away with his sword. Moonlings rushed him, eyes wild. He cursed and cut two of them down. Others passed him to get to her, but thick smoke clogged the pavilion and obscured his view. He couldn’t see if Elena was in there any longer, with the flames and the heat. Choking heat roiled toward him and flames crackled overhead. He coughed and backed a single step, cradling the baby tighter. She cried, muffled, against his chest.
More insistent: OSIAS.
Aye, they come.
Draken turned his head at Osias’s voice, but he wasn’t there. Instead, a spirit … eyes black holes into nothing, mouth gaping, smelling like grave dirt and burned flesh, swept through the trees toward the Moonlings. One threw a spear but it passed through the spirit and tumbled off into the trees. The Moonling let out a raucous, terrified cry and sprinted away, quick as prey. All around spirits were appearing, misty among the trees, soundless but wavering toward Moonlings, arms outstretched. They created a ring of space around the flames and pavilion.
Gods, are they banes?
“Draken, run! Save her!” Elena stepped out from under the pavilion and threw fire at a tree. It quickly spread to another. She cast him a fleeting look and ran away, deeper into the woods, pausing only slightly as she passed through a spirit.
Draken’s body pulled him down the path, the log steps. His boots beat a tattoo on the ground: The path was short. The path was short. He could be with his soldiers in no time, protected—
The flames stopped, held. Frozen. The world went dead and silent. Draken slowed. His daughter whimpered. No … No. Elena should have known … would have known about the Abeyance if he had just bloody told her. Now her effort was for naught.
I think this is your Abeyance. Not theirs. But you know Setia can’t hold it for long. Keep moving, Draken. Use what small time you have.
He drew a breath. “Elena.” The word fell flat on the empty air.
Lost. Or not. I do not know. You must keep moving, Draken. She gave you this chance. She gave her this chance. She is your Queen and she has commanded you.
Draken looked back. The flames held like great witchlights against the shadowy trees. He couldn’t see the little pavilion anymore. A nearby structure was mid-collapse. It was all he could do not to go back. He had saved Elena once with the Abeyance. But he couldn’t see her. He couldn’t see Elena anywhere.
Their daughter whimpered and squirmed, loud against the Abeyance. The flames flickered and went still again. And Draken ran.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Four sevennight later, Draken held his daughter as he stood on the Bastion battlements and stared out at dawn spreading over the broken city, as was his habit every morning. Even cluttered with people, it felt empty of life somehow.
Aarinnaie leaned her elbows on the flat stone. A cocky servii waved up at her from the street. Trash fluttered in corners like the servii’s hand.
She gave a wry grin and waved back.
Auwaer was no longer the pristine capital it had been. It would never be again. Dirtier. Definitely more crowded. Elena would be shocked.
“A lifetime alone for a few nights of pleasure,” he murmured. “It is the Monoean way.”
But you’re no longer Monoean.
I don’t know what I am, or what I am not. He looked down at his daughter. “I should take you to Brîn.”
“The baby needs a name first, don’t you think, before she starts traveling the kingdom?”
“Not without Elena.”
They’d had this argument before. This time Aarinnaie relented. “Elena will come when she pleases. In the meantime your daughter needs a name. She is a Princess.”
“And Szirin.”
“Aye. One without a name.”
Draken studied her face, her round cheeks. The baby cooed up at him, pursed her little lips. Are you trying to kiss me, my love? “She rather favors my mother.”
Aarinnaie gave a noisy sigh. “And her name was?”
A beat. “Sikyra.”
Aarinnaie was silent. Below a tinker-merchant shouted his wares. His wagon wheels squeaked and the baby turned her head toward the sound, face crinkled in concentration. Draken examined the lines around her eyes, already darkening with the series of tattoos to outline them. Big eyes, she had, and plumpening cheeks. Her wrists looked as if someone had tied cords around them.
“It fair suits her.” Aarinnaie took the baby from him and cradled her. The baby giggled. Aarinnaie could always get the baby to giggle, more than even the wet nurse. “Kyra for short.”
“Aye, then. Kyra for short.”
“You should go down. Tyrolean is waiting,” Aarinnaie said. “He’s determined to make a swordsman of you yet.”
I don’t know why, when I have you back.
A low chuckle from Bruche. Maybe he knows how much it amuses me.
Draken pressed his hands against the cool stone of the battlements and stared back toward the Agrian Range that he could not see.
“Khel Szi?” Aarinnaie said it in a silly voice and Kyra giggled again.
He nodded. “I’m going, I’m going.” He touched her arm and the top of his baby’s head, and strode for the guard tower steps.
Elena was alive. She had to be. She would come to him as surely as war.
But not this day.
This day, his daughter had a name, and she was laughing.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book has traveled a long road and, fitting, since Draken travels so much in it. There was a time when, like Draken, I feared it was lost. But because of a lot of hardworking industry folks, Emissary found the way again.
My editors, Jason Katzman, Jeremy Lassen, Cory Allyn, and the whole Night Shade team, you make my books better and my least favorite parts of writing fun. Your care and dedication are so evident. It’s a pleasure working with you. John Stanko, too, has once again captured Draken and his story in the amazing cover and William McAusland has done the same with the maps that grace the front pages.
My agent, Sara Megibow, you put astounding effort into seeing this book through. I couldn’t ask for anyone better at my back.
Mom, Al, Jo, Emily, Jennifer, Natalie, Mara, Madisyyn, Jordan, Julie, Kelly, Kevin, Karen, LaRoux, Sandi, Jim, Jimmy, Tiffany, Hunter, Kolby, KK, and Tiff, see this big book? It’s why I don’t get to see you enough.
Readers, you are my favorite people ever. I love hanging out with you online and at cons. I hope I meet lots more of you in the coming years.
I got some particular help from Marcus Harris and Marc MacYo
ung on the armoring, care, and feeding of fictional warriors, David Hughes on the writing, and quite a few of the Writers in the Storm folks on story and logistics. All my other many friends, online and RL, industry and muggle, you know who you are. I’m so lucky to have you.
Carlin, I love you. You know all the rest.
Alex, yeah, Draken gets beat up a few times in this one, too. Thanks for being my favorite reader anyway.
Gracie, this one is for you. Thanks for drawing an amazing dragon to go in my (your) book.
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