“Our place is right around the corner. Time for another costume change, I think.”
I smile at him. If I’m being paraded around by a King’s Hunter, there’s far less chance we’ll be harassed. “Good thinking,” I say. “Let’s get you changed.”
Ten minutes later, Leif’s wearing the hideous Hunter garb again. I’ve stuffed his regular leather coat and hat into my bag so he won’t be left without them later. This time, we walk slowly, with purpose, toward the Palace and central square. Leif keeps a firm grip on my arm. I look down at the ground, hoping desperately we won’t be questioned on the way.
Thankfully, we’re not. Leif nods, greets the Hunters we pass, and we swiftly move on. When we’re passing through the square, my heart falls at the look on the commoner’s faces, staring right at Leif in his blood-violet coat. Eyes are wide. Terrified. They glance at me and quickly look down at the ground, hoping they aren’t noticed. Hoping they aren’t next.
When we reach the shabby houses near the southern gates, I am most relieved to leave these faces behind.
We step into a back alley that has a small plot of grass behind each cottage. Each one was painted in bright colors, once. Most of the paint has peeled off, so nearly all of them are gray now. We stop in front of a cottage with a few strips of black paint still remaining.
“This must be it,” Leif says. We look around to make sure we’re still alone, then dart through the open garden gate and into the back door of the house.
“You made it!” Imogen’s warm voice greets us as she pulls us farther into the room. She pushes us down a short hallway into one of the bedrooms where there is an open cellar hatch. “I’m sorry about the accommodations, but it’s the best we could do. Moving on such short notice and all,” she says.
The three of us scurry down the ladder into the earth underneath the house. Imogen closes the hatch above, and Leif scrambles out of the violet coat, throwing it to the ground.
It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Only a single lamp burns in one corner of the large cellar. When the faces come into focus—at least a dozen—I recognize many from the previous cottage. I sink down against an earthen wall and onto the ground.
Imogen and Leif sit on either side of me. “We have to keep moving,” she says, answering my unasked question. “Especially when one of us is captured.”
“Hannah.”
“Yes.”
“What are they going to do to her?”
“Execute her, perhaps. Or take her wherever they are taking all of the others. We are not sure where they have been sent. There haven’t been any public executions since …” Her voice chokes, and she’s unable to finish.
“Since Queen Seraphine.”
“Yes, since your mother. And now that Araroa’s got wind of the change occurring in his kingdom … well, Leif can tell you more.”
I look over at Leif. He’s got his head in his hands. Remembering, I can tell. “The kingdom? Leif? What’s really going on here?”
Leif smooths down his hair, grasps his bent knees as if to steady himself. “I couldn’t believe it when Imogen told me what had been going on while we were away. People everywhere are swearing disloyalty to Araroa.” I catch Leif’s eyes drifting down to Fortissima, secure in Sufa’s leather sheath. He looks back up into my eyes, and his gaze burns into mine. “Raven, they are swearing loyalty to you.”
This news makes my heart jump. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. Maybe one day, but not now …”
Leif sighs and then continues. “It’s not only here in the Bastion. Araroa’s preparing to send Hunters to search for Treasoners all over Nadir. He’s ordered anyone suspected of supporting you to be detained—killed, possibly.”
I lean my head back against the hard earth and close my eyes. For a second, I’m overcome with regret at leaving Nuimana at all. But then again, if I had heard this news from over there, I’d feel even more helpless than I do now. I did enjoy learning about what it meant to be a King on the island. And sometimes a small part of me had wondered what it would be like to be King of all Nadir. But no part of me imagined this: that people would think of rising up against King Araroa. And his son. But my regret is overcome—only slightly—by the small thrill that people are finally speaking out at all.
But still …
I shake my head. “All of these people. Dying or imprisoned because of me—all because I’ve claimed Fortissima as my own. How can I let this continue?”
“No, Raven,” Imogen says. “They are defying Araroa because they know it can be better. You being King of Nuimana has given them hope that this terrible millennia will finally end. That peace and prosperity will return to Nadir with a Woman King in power. They are tired of waiting. I am tired of waiting. We are so glad you’ve returned. Raven—our people will not stop until you are crowned. If you will accept, that is. To be our true leader.”
I don’t answer her right away. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall. My thoughts swirl around and around. Once again I feel like everything is being decided for me. Do I really have any choice in this? Have I ever? I desperately wait for a clear thought that does not come.
What do come are two memories: the first of my dinner with King Araroa so many months ago, during which he indicated he knew exactly where I’d been raised, my treevillage Baldachin a thousand miles from here. And the other: Fortissima’s vision of darkness.
But what can I truly do about any of this? The only thing I’ve learned so far about being a leader is how to check water supplies. Being King of Nuimana was so much simpler. Idyllic. I probably should have stayed.
All I really want to do is help Leif find Nile, then get ourselves back to Nuimana. Where we will be safe.
But I am here, in Nadir, and Imogen wants to know if I will lead these people in their desire to overthrow King Araroa.
I open my eyes and look directly at Imogen. I try to read her face, but her mouth is a straight line; her eyes are watching me kindly. I start to open my mouth to say no, but nothing comes out.
My stomach tells me I need to stall. Finally, I croak out some words. “I need to think about this for a while. It’s a lot …”
Imogen’s mouth turns up, a warm smile. “Of course, m’lady. Take as much time as you like. It is a lot.”
I nod and close my eyes again, resting my head on Leif’s shoulder. He says nothing. He puts his arm around me, kisses the top of my head. It only makes me feel marginally better. I hate keeping these people waiting—being so uncertain. I feel like I’m holding everyone up.
But Imogen doesn’t hesitate; she addresses Leif: “I need you to go out, find out what Araroa’s Hunters are up to, if they’ve already left the Bastion to search Nadir. We need to know if we should stay or start to move.”
Leif gives me another squeeze and then stands, pulling on the Hunter’s coat again. Before he climbs the ladder, he leans down to kiss my forehead. He studies my face. “Don’t you worry. I’ll be back in a few hours. Hopefully I’ll find out something that will tell us what to do next. Rest while you can, okay?”
I grab his hand and cling to it. I don’t want to see him leave. I never want Leif out of my sight again. “Please be careful.”
He leans down and kisses the back of my hand. “I will.”
When Leif is gone, the full force of what’s happening hits me full on. I remember Miss Lilith’s letter from a few weeks ago, warning me not to do the very thing that I’ve just done: return to Nadir despite the fact that not only does the King want me captured and probably killed, but so do his supporters—the Loyalists, she’d called them.
I dig through my pack until I find my little bundle of letters and take out this last one from Miss Lilith. I reread it slowly.
Despite her dire warning, I grin to myself.
How did she know I’d return anyway?
What’s more, she knew I’d be asked to lead the Treasoners. The realization eases my guilt at not answering Imogen
straight away. If I’d said yes now, the situation would only escalate. This way, I’m only the King of Nuimana … only here in Nadir for a quick stopover to get Leif’s papa so we can all return.
Ugh. I’m kidding myself. I know the truth is that my arrival has thrown fuel on the fire of the Treasoners’ cause.
Something else crosses my mind: Lilith’s letter was probably written months ago. She wrote that everything was fine at the time—but what about now? Bile licks up my throat remembering what Imogen warned, about word getting out that I’ve returned. Does King Araroa know too? I suspect chances are good that he does by now.
What if Hunters are on their way to Baldachin already?
Chapter 7
“Would you like a bite to eat?” Imogen sits down next to me and offers a chunk of bread, torn from the loaves the children have recently brought back.
I accept it and take a bite. It’s still warm from the baker’s oven. “Where did this all come from?”
“You needn’t worry. The children didn’t steal it.”
I’m immediately sorry for my accusatory tone. “Forgive me—that doesn’t matter. I’ve stolen food once or twice myself. Sometimes you just do what you need to do.”
“Of course. No, we have friends at several bakeries and delis. A growing number, in fact. They leave packages for the children to pick up and bring back to us. All highly illegal, of course—Araroa has threatened severe punishment for any aid given to us.”
I take another bite of bread. It really is delicious. “How many are there?”
“How many of who?” Imogen waves a child over. The girl hands her a small bundle. Imogen unwraps it and pulls out slices of salami; I gladly accept those too.
“How many … Treasoners are there now?”
Imogen shakes her head, a corner of her mouth pulling up into a half grin. It takes me aback; Leif’s does the exact same thing when he’s trying not to smile. “More each and every day.”
“That’s what I suspected. But where is Araroa taking those he’s accusing of treason? He can’t be holding them all in the dungeon …”
Imogen’s face falls serious. “No, he’s not. Leif told me the dungeon is nearly empty. He must be taking them to a camp somewhere … It’s surely what’s happened to Nile.” She chokes, and her hand flies up to her mouth. Tears well up in her eyes.
I shake my head. “No, Nile is too clever. He’s got secret contacts all over the kingdom. Surely he was warned. Perhaps he’s in hiding somewhere too.”
“Perhaps.” Imogen smiles once again, but I can tell it’s forced. “At any rate, we are not sure what is happening to those Araroa is taking. He’s being private about it, which is even more disturbing than the public executions.”
That’s hard to imagine. Images flash through my mind of my birth mother’s own public hanging. Her head covered, her rigid body swaying from the noose, blue skirts fluttering. I shake my head. That’s over and done with. But I can’t still the rage that swells inside me when these memories come.
“I agree. Not knowing is infinitely worse. But don’t you worry, we’ll find Nile. Leif will learn something today. I have a feeling.”
Imogen smiles again, a real one this time. She glances over at Fortissima, resting against the wall on the other side of me. “So, do you know how to use that beauty?”
I shake my head. “Sword fighting is a lost art on Nuimana. They haven’t needed to raise them against another in hundreds of years. Do you know of a tutor?”
Imogen stands. She tucks a corner of her skirt in her waistband, exposing breeches underneath. I grab on to her offered hand, and she pulls me up. “I do.”
Before I know what’s happening, she orders lanterns lit around the small cellar and then grabs a sword in her own hands. She nods her head toward Fortissima. “Well? Are you ready?”
I look at her, incredulous. “You’re a swordswoman?”
She nods, deftly tossing the sword from her left hand into her right. “That’s right. I’ve been training since I was a girl. Never thought I’d get the chance to train you, though.”
I hope she can’t see my face blushing in the dimness. “But … here?”
“Sure—you won’t fight a Hunter off in an arena, will you?”
“Probably not,” I agree, taking Fortissima up into my hands. As always, I’m taken aback at how light she is and how she feels more like an extension of my own arm, instead of an inanimate piece of metal. As I bring the sword up in front of me, the lantern light flickers off the sharp edge of her blade. “But aren’t we supposed to train with wooden sticks or something?”
Imogen laughs. “And will you fight a Hunter off with a wooden stick? Scratch that—you’ll be able to when we’re done here. Watch. And copy. Like you’re looking in a mirror.”
I do as she says. Imogen has her sword in her right hand, so I grasp Fortissima in my left. It feels very uncomfortable. “Wait—I’m right-handed.”
“I know. So think how easy it will be when we switch hands.”
Imogen swings her blade one way and then the other. Up and down. I mirror her actions, over and over. Our blades never touch, but by the end of the first hour, the motions start to feel familiar. My hand and arm and shoulder burn, and right when I think I’m about to drop Fortissima, Imogen yells, “Switch hands!” She tosses her blade up in the air and catches it deftly with her left hand.
I shake my head. There’s no way I can do that. I’d hate to have Fortissima crash to the floor.
Imogen says nothing. She raises her brows and nods once. Insisting I at least try.
I take a deep breath and then do it. I toss Fortissima up into the air and hold out my right hand to catch her.
I miss.
My sword clatters to the ground.
“Try again,” Imogen says.
So I do. Three more times. And she falls to the floor again and again.
“Once more. This time, close your eyes.”
I have to stifle a laugh—she’s got to be kidding.
“Do it.”
With nothing to lose except more of my humility, I grasp Fortissima with my left hand, close my eyes, and toss her into the air.
It is not until my right hand clasps hold of Fortissima’s grip, and she’s comfortably resting there, that I open them. I gasp and look up at Imogen, eyes wide. “Did you do that?” I swear it felt like someone simply handed her to me.
Another half smile. “No, you did. That was your power, and yours alone. Before, you were asking your sword to work with you. This time, you ordered it.” She gives me only seconds to reflect on that before we’re at it again with our exercises, this time with our other hands.
And Imogen was right: in my dominant hand, I feel as if Fortissima is a part of my body. Imogen’s blade finally strikes mine, and before I realize what I’m doing, I’m deflecting her spars. Over and over, until it feels effortless.
We stop when the floor hatch opens above us and dim evening light floods in. I immediately recognize Leif’s legs climbing down the ladder and feel a flood of relief. Another set of legs follows him down.
“Look who I found, sneaking about the Bastion,” Leif says playfully.
I wipe the sweat from my eyes to take in the newcomer. When I see who it is, I drop Fortissima right on the ground in my rush to hug him.
It’s Tui.
“Oh my. You smell awful,” Tui says. I look up to see his mouth has erupted into a huge grin, and my heart leaps. “But it’s so good to see you.”
“You don’t smell that great yourself.” Which is true. He looks terrible too, but this I don’t say. Tui’s face is dirty and gaunt, his clothes torn and filthy. “What’s happened to you? Where have you been?”
“Can I sit down first?”
“Of course!” I give Leif a quick hug, whispering in his ear how thankful I am he’s returned safe.
He reads my mind, whispering back, “I’ll tell you everything.” I kiss his cheek, then turn to pick up Fortissima lying behind me
. I lead Tui over to where my hunk of bread is still sitting on my pack, unfinished. Imogen is already there with more bread and salami and water for both of us. Tui inhales his food, and I gulp down an entire jug of water, still wiping sweat from my forehead.
Tui takes several long swallows of water before speaking. He’s still grinning stupidly. “Look at you. King Raven. At last.”
“Oh, not here. Only on Nuimana.”
“I know. Still—it looks good on you. There’s something else too.” He winks and tips his head toward Leif, standing on the other side of the room talking with Imogen.
I blush. “Okay, there’s that.”
“You’ve changed.”
“What? It hasn’t been that long since I saw you last. What’s it been, seven, eight, months?”
He chuckles. “Ha. It’s been a lifetime, Raven. And boy, has it ever.” He sighs and leans back against the earthen wall.
“Tell me everything. But wait—is Baldachin all right? Miss Lilith? Mum? Papa? I need to know.”
“Baldachin is fine. For now. But that’s why I’m here, Raven. Miss Lilith told me I had to return to the Bastion. To find you.”
“I wonder how she knew.”
“I’ve got no idea. But I do know that the whole of Nadir is crawling with Hunters, and they are heading farther west every day.”
West. Toward Baldachin. Where King Araroa knows I’m from. Where the most traitorous people in the kingdom live: Miss Lilith, who escaped with me from the Bastion after my birth, and Mum and Papa Aegis who raised me. My heart starts pounding so hard I can’t even speak for a minute. “How did you get here?” I finally manage.
“You’ll never guess.”
I can’t believe Tui is being clever right now. “Cecil.”
“You guessed.”
That makes me smile, despite my fear. Of course it was Cecil, feared leader of the bearcats—and our friend—who would make sure Tui got here to meet me. “That explains your, um, outfit, then.”
Tui smooths down his torn shirtsleeves with exaggeration. “Yeah, we didn’t exactly take the main road. Or any road, for that matter. It was through the forest the whole way.”
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