“It’s so good to see you two! How are you? Have you seen Leif?” The questions come rushing out before I can stop them. But the way the captain and his wife are looking at me makes my heart fall.
“Is Leif not here?” Mrs. Wilkins’s question confirms my deepest fear.
I shake my head and will myself not to cry. Not here in the open. “No, he left on another ship to return to the mainland a few weeks ago. I was hoping you’d have news—I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten my manners. Please come up with me for some refreshments.”
A small crowd has gathered by now. I send an attendant up to the house with word to prepare tea for our guests.
On our way up, Mrs. Wilkins beams at me. “You look beautiful, m’lady—stunning. It seems everyone has heard of your coronation by now. All of Nadir is buzzing with the news. It’s wonderful. Just wonderful.”
“Have you any news for me?”
“I do, m’lady.” She takes a small folded paper from her pocket and hands it to me. It’s rough in my hands, flecked with bits of flora—it could only be from Baldachin. I tuck the note safely into a fold of my robe so I can read it later. Alone.
I show the captain and his wife to the atrium where tea has been set. Mrs. Wilkins’s eyes practically pop out of her head at all the fresh fruit, and I have to laugh. “Don’t hold back,” I tell her, motioning to one of the cushioned chairs. “We might be running out of water, but we’ll always have plenty of fruit. And fish,” I add.
“Well, that I could take a break from, but don’t mind if I do.” Without hesitating, she piles a plate high with slices of mango and pineapple and coconut meat.
When we’re all seated, Captain Wilkins asks me again about Leif. “He’s gone to free Nile, has he? I’ve known that lad for many long years; his father and I go way back. I’m not surprised.”
“No. I’m not either.” I sigh. “But I was hoping for news he had at least arrived back in Nadir safely.”
“Don’t worry, m’lady,” Mrs. Wilkins interjects. “I’m sure our ships passed one another. It’s likely he arrived soon after our departure, and we simply missed him. He’s a bright boy, make no mistake. And so is Nile. Together they’ll get out of trouble.”
This definitely doesn’t make me feel any better.
“How long do you plan to stay before setting off again? You’re welcome as long as you like, of course.”
“Much appreciated, m’lady,” the captain says. “We’ll rest for a day and then be off in the morning.”
“Excellent. Tell your crew to come to feast tomorrow.”
The captain and his wife both grin. “Happily, m’lady!” they say in unison. For a few seconds, I entertain the idea of stowing myself away in one of their crates. I miss the days I spent at sea without a care in the world. When Leif was really and truly mine.
With our midnight tea finished, I excuse myself to go to bed. I practically run to my room and immediately pull out the letter to read it. My heart soars when I see it’s from Miss Lilith.
My Dearest Raven,
I hope this letter finds you well on beautiful Nuimana. Your new life sounds delightful on your island, and I was so happy to hear that your people are treating you so well. But I’m sure you are wondering how we all are back here in Baldachin, and I’m thankful to report that everyone is well. Your mum and papa are in good health, as am I. Peace continues to bless us.
Catriona has recently returned with the news that there is much talk throughout the kingdom of your coronation. As if there was any doubt before, your secret is no longer. That much is certain. King Araroa did his best to suppress the news, but it has spread like wildfire. He even forbid talk of your crowning, but, alas, there is excitement all around, and this sort of thing cannot be contained.
I must warn you, however, that all is not so well throughout our kingdom. There are many who are not so excited. They fear the possibility of change, that you might return, and claim the throne when old Araroa is gone. There is a growing Loyalist movement. It is small now, but I fear that more will join.
This fact will, I hope, not affect your life in Nuimana. But I must warn you—should you be entertaining the idea—not to return to Nadir for some time. The Loyalists are not friendly to you and the change you represent, and I believe you would be in mortal danger should you return. So please, enjoy your time with your dear Leif and do what you can for your new people. We will be well here in Nadir.
With much love,
Lilith
I read Miss Lilith’s letter three times before I carefully refold it.
I open my woven trunk where my old Nadir clothes are clean and folded away. Underneath the garments is a small box that holds the obsidian pendant Papa carved and gave me before I left Baldachin. There are my other letters, and the key Queen Seraphine gave me, the one that allowed Tui and I to escape King Araroa’s terrible dungeon. I place Miss Lilith’s letter on top.
Before I shut the lid of the chest, I touch the gray woolen pants. It’s silly to have kept them, Nuimana being far too warm to even consider wearing such heavy clothes. But here they are, just in case.
Despite what I told everyone at our tea, I can’t sleep. From my verandah, I watch the Albatross tug on her dock lines in the moonlight, eager to return to the sea. I can’t help the overwhelming urge to climb aboard too. To sail back home. Back to Leif. And Tui and everyone.
And what if I did? I could put these clothes back on, my commoner clothes. I could put up my long black hair, and no one would be the wiser as to my true identity. They’d never know who I really was. I still have no desire to rule Nadir. I’m sure my brother will be able to do that just fine. And the people of Nuimana don’t really need me. The rains will begin. The women will weave. The men will fish. Life will continue here as it has for a very long time.
Suddenly I feel like somebody is watching me. I whirl around. But there is no one. Something does catch my eye, to my left. Hanging on the wall, glittering in the moonlight that is leaking through the woven walls of my room: Fortissima, the sword of all Woman Kings—and now, mine.
I walk over, take her down, hold her in my hands. She is remarkably light for her size, and her grip fits into my hand as if she were made for me. I pick up the jeweled crown that sits on the small table under Fortissima and place it on my head. I grasp Fortissima with both hands and then close my eyes.
There is only blackness. Then, as if from very far away, the sound of screaming. It grows louder and louder, then stops, suddenly. Then the sobbing begins, a sound like thousands of small children crying in unison. Blackness, still. I will my eyes to open, for this vision to dissolve. But I can’t. A face in the blackness appears. At first it’s too blurry to make out, but as it comes into focus, there’s no doubt who it is: my friend Tui. His face bears a terrible grimace, and the screaming returns. This time, it is his. Just when I think I cannot take any more of this, Leif appears before me. I reach for him, to hold him close, but he’s pulled away from me by an invisible force. I start to run, to catch up with him, but he’s getting smaller and smaller until he finally disappears into the blackness. Silence returns. Nothingness.
I gasp as my eyes fly open. Sweat is pouring down my face. My hands are so slippery they nearly drop Fortissima. With quivering arms, I carefully place her back onto the wall and remove the crown from my head.
There is not a single doubt in my mind, not even given Miss Lilith’s warning of danger, of what I must do: return to Nadir.
It takes me only a few minutes to fill a small pack with the essentials: my letters, the key, my crown. I lay out my warm commoner clothes—my gray woolen pants, white tunic, brown leather jacket—to put on in the morning before I board the Albatross. I tie Papa’s pendant around my neck. As I do so, I make a promise to myself to never take it off again.
In the afternoon, I take my tea in the usual spot under the shady palms looking over the sea. I still am not used to Leif’s lounge remaining empty. I lie back in my own and close my eyes. Picturin
g him there. Reclining back, arms behind his head, wearing that silly grin of his. I can hear his deep, silky voice in my head. Telling me a story, making me smile.
“We’re going to miss you, Raven.” My eyes fly open to find Sufa standing next to me.
“How … who … how did you know?” I haven’t said anything to anyone about leaving yet. Figuring out how to do that was what I was supposed to be doing here, instead of daydreaming about Leif.
“I can tell. I know you miss your Leif, and your family. We want you here for our own, but I think Nadir needs you too.”
“Will you be okay without me? What about the water? What if the rains don’t come? What about the plantings?”
Sufa sits down on the chaise, folding his hands in his lap. “Nuimana will be fine. We’ve been here for hundreds of years, and we’ll be here for hundreds more. And knowing you are back in Nadir to do good, well, that alone will keep us going. Besides, it’s our dream to rejoin our native country. Who knows?” Sufa winks at me.
“Yes, who knows indeed. But I’ll come back, Sufa. I promise. Maybe I’ll bring my whole family with me. They’d like it here, I think.”
Sufa nods. “They are welcome here, all of them. And now I have something for you.” From behind his back, Sufa pulls out a leather belt and sheath. “To keep Fortissima safe.” He hands it to me.
I caress the smooth leather in my hands. It’s absolutely beautiful, inlaid with pearl and intricately tooled with the distinctive swirls and designs of Nuimanian artisans. The belt looks perfectly sized to my waist. “Oh, Sufa, thank you for this. Thank you for everything.”
Sufa snorts and shakes his head. “No, no, no. Thank you, Raven. You are the one who risked your very life for us, and will continue to. We owe you a great deal of gratitude. From the bottom of all our hearts, we love you and wish you a very safe journey to your home. And a safe journey back to us.”
When he says this, it truly hits me how very far I have to go … and how close to home I am right at this moment.
“I’ll return, Sufa. I will.” And I believe those words, I do.
Chapter 4
Leif
And then just like that, the Olympia’s lines are tied right back to the wharf at the port. The very same I departed from with Raven all those months ago. I help my shipmates unload the cargo, then head straight to the pub.
I have to admit the first cold swill of ale that flows down my throat is very nice. But that’s not why I’m here.
I’m sitting by myself at a table near the bar. Listening. I need some sense of what’s been happening since I’ve been away. A lead of some sort. To find Papa and get back to Raven.
Two men are leaning against the bar, waiting for the pubkeep to serve what is obviously not their first drinks of the night.
“How’s your brother? Haven’t seen him around here in a while. He been shipped out?” The man’s question perks my ears right up. The pubkeep sets the overfilled mugs down in front of the men. Ale sloshes over their hands as they each take a long sip.
The other man practically slams his mug back down. “No, he hasn’t shipped out. He’s been put in prison, the idiot. Feckin’ bastard thought he’d start hanging out with those Treasoners, got himself locked up.”
The other man raises his brows at that. “Treasoners, eh? Idiot is right. Those fools need to keep quiet, respect their proper King. Not some mythical woman heir.” He sneers those last three words. Both men snicker and snort at that idea.
They each take another gulp of ale, then turn away from the bar to go seat themselves. As they’re walking away, the words that carry to my ears make my blood boil. “If I ever did see this heir myself, I’d help Araroa get rid of her once and for all. Teach these Treasoners their proper place.”
My face is hot. I’m gripping the handle of my ale mug so hard I nearly crack it. What I want to do is crack it across the face of that asshole. Teach him to respect his proper King.
I will myself to be calm. I’ll never find Papa if I get myself arrested. I throw back the rest of my ale and head outside into the evening air to cool off.
And then I run faster than I ever thought possible, all the way to the Bastion.
It’s late when I reach the eastern gates. There are two Hunters posted there—violet-coated officers of the King. They ask where I’m going. Where I’ve been. I tell them I’m a shipmate at the port. Here to visit my mum. Then, before I depart, I choke out the words I must: “Long live King Araroa.”
I walk into the Bastion, and with the gate guards at my back, I smile. “Woman King Araroa,” I say under my breath.
My heart skips, and warmth seeps out from the pit of my stomach. My gods, she was beautiful that day Sufa put the crown on her. King Raven Araroa. And when she held her sword aloft. So regal. So right. As she has been each day before that, and each one after.
I shake my head. I’ve got to focus on the here and now.
Everyone’s inside. The streets are dark and quiet. Still, I weave my way through the alleys and side streets all the way to West Market. I know the man’s not going to be home, but I’ve still got to check.
Number 16. Our door is slightly ajar. I put my head in and listen.
Silence.
I step inside and shut the door behind me. The place is a disaster. I pull Raven’s knife from my belt and hold it out in front of me. I can’t tell what’s happened—a struggle? A search? Papa’s books are scattered all over the floor. Chairs broken and our table overturned. I go into the kitchen. All a mess too. I hear a sound out back and freeze. A footstep? I wait a full minute before moving again. But I hear nothing more.
I pull back the rug, open the floor hatch, climb down the ladder. I light the lantern with my flint and look around. It’s just as I remembered: Papa’s jugs and jars sitting on the shelves, full of fiery liquid, waiting to be delivered to the King.
“He’s not been here for weeks.” I nearly drop the lamp at the voice coming from the open hatch above me.
“Imogen! Is that you?” My heart gradually slows as my aunt climbs down the ladder into the cellar. I re-sheath the knife, and she gives me a great big hug, ruffling my hair like she did when I was a boy.
We sit down, and she fills me in. She tells me Papa simply disappeared a month or so ago. I show her the note I found in his crate. She reads it through, twice.
“This doesn’t make any sense. I saw Nile just last month. The crates would have been packed well before then.”
She’s right. None of this makes any sense. But he’s not here, all the same.
Imogen helps me secure the cellar, and I lock the front and back doors of the house. I ask her if we’re going to her place, but she shakes her head. “I can’t go home. The Hunters know about me.” I open my mouth to ask her more, but she shushes me. “I’ll tell you everything when we get there,” she whispers.
When we get to the safe house, we slip in through the back door, though the cottage has long been abandoned. I meet them in the pitch dark: the Treasoners. Or only one group of them, as Imogen says. There are others. And then there are the ones who are gone.
A woman sitting on the floor reaches up to touch my sleeve. “Is it true?” She’s whispering; even still, I hear the tone of hope in her voice. “Is there really a Woman King of Nuimana?”
“Yes, it’s true. A very good King.”
“Is she coming? Is she coming back here?”
Raven’s scent brushes my nose. Her hand strokes my cheek, tucks a piece of my loose hair behind my ear. I hear her laugh, but it sounds very far away. I know it’s only wishful thinking.
The woman’s eyes are still glistening up at me in the dark. I hate what I have to say to her. “No. She needs to stay on Nuimana. It’s not safe for her here.”
“Yet,” Imogen interjects.
“That’s right,” I say. As glad as I am that Raven is safe on Nuimana, I have to admit there is still a part of me that believes she belongs here. I only wish she’d believe that too.
> As the Treasoners sleep, Imogen and I make a plan.
I’m poking around the Hunters’ barracks the next day. I hide. I listen. So far, nothing but crude jokes. A lot of back slapping. I hear a man brag about the family he dragged in the day before. Said he was sure they were up to no good. But he could have been wrong. I have to will myself to keep hidden. Not to deck him.
Finally, I find what I’m looking for: Some women are washing clothes behind one of the buildings. Their tubs are full of uniforms. The color has leached out, and it looks like they are rinsing the jackets in old blood. As they hang them to dry, I watch the sea of violet cloth grow. The women finish and leave.
When I’m sure no one is looking, I grab a violet coat from the line and put it on.
I nearly retch.
Chapter 5
My return to Nadir aboard the Albatross is swift. Unlike my previous trip, this one is free of storms. We find only steady winds to close the distance toward home, mile after mile.
Instead, the storm is inside me. As we sailed from Nuimana’s harbor, I was elated at first. All full of excitement to be sailing closer to Leif; he’s surely back in the Bastion by now. But that only lasted minutes before I was overcome by doubt. That I was doing the right thing. That I wasn’t putting myself—and my family—into terrible danger by returning. Wave after wave of excitement and fear have nearly overcome me for the past two weeks. And now that we’re due to arrive back in Nadir tomorrow, the waves have only gotten more intense.
After supper, our last on this journey, I remain sitting with the captain and Mrs. Wilkins while the rest of the crew return to their posts. The captain offers me a glass of brandy, and I accept it gratefully. It’s got to help ease the sense of turmoil that is a hairsbreadth from overcoming me completely.
I watch the honey-colored liquid swirl like oil in my glass before I take a tiny sip. Immediately, I cough as the flames lick the back of my throat.
Bravura Page 3