The Exalted

by Kaitlyn Sage Patterson

  With a dismissive wave of her hand, Lisette continued. “Rylain tricked everyone into thinking that she didn’t care about politics or court life, so she became the obvious person to leave the council when you were voted in. Everyone on the council voted for themselves to become regent, which triggered some archaic law calling for the regent to be chosen from the singleborn not serving on the council. And, as you know, she’s the only singleborn not on the council.”

  “She must have some very smart people on her side. I don’t think any of us had ever heard of that particular clause before, and from what I can tell, it’s only been used one other time, generations ago,” Patrise said.

  “Before the vote, we managed to discover that she’d bought the captain of the guard. We just don’t know how,” Lisette added.

  Patrise shook his head, and an uncharacteristic look of frustration flickered across his face. “She’s had us fooled for years. She’s always seemed so preoccupied with her books and her faith, and neither of us thought to have anyone really watching her carefully.”

  “But then we put the pieces together,” Lisette said. “It all makes sense. The Suzerain must have been grooming her, preparing her for this day. They’ve wanted the throne for years, and now they’ve put their very own puppet right where they want her.”

  “But,” I sputtered, “Rylain loves me. She’s the only one of the singleborn who’s ever really cared about me. I know her. She doesn’t want power. She’ll step down the moment I appear.”

  Lisette bit her lip, an expression of hurt masking her face. “Bo, what do you think it is that Patrise and I have done all these years, if not love you?”

  I stared at them, shocked. “You’ve spied on me. You’ve tried to have me killed. You don’t love me. You want my throne for yourselves.”

  Patrise rolled his eyes. “You silly child. We’ve watched over you, yes. We’ve derailed real assassination attempts. Whose spies do you think distracted the shooter in the park all those months ago before your birthday? We would never let anything happen to you.”

  Lisette wrinkled her nose. “Neither of us wants to run a country, silly. Do you know how much time it takes to be queen? I’ve far better ways to spend my days, thank you, and you’re far more suited to it. Not that that matters now. You’ll be captured and killed immediately if you come within sight of the palace.”

  “But I’m the heir. They can’t do that. There’s documentation. There were witnesses at the ceremony. You witnessed the ceremony.”

  Swinton laid a gentle hand on my knee. “This isn’t a minor misunderstanding that can be cleared up in private, Bo. It’s a coup.”

  “But surely the council...”

  Lisette shook her head. “As soon as they named her regent, Rylain cited some ancient law that allowed her to double the size of the council. She appointed a number of anchorites who’re clearly only doing the Suzerain’s bidding. The Suzerain have the controlling vote on the royal council as of this afternoon.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “But why? Why would Rylain do this?”

  “Rylain has ordered that all the dimmys be rounded up and brought to the temple,” Swinton said. “For the safety of the people. You know what that means?”

  Horror washed over me. “With the temple’s help, they can make anyone who opposes them a dimmy,” I said slowly. “They could, essentially, commit genocide in order to take over my empire.” I stood, and Patrise rose to meet me. “I have to go, Patrise. I can convince Rylain to stop this. I have to stop her.”

  Patrise, his expression somber, reached out and touched the golden cuff that ringed my wrist. “You made a promise to your people, Bo. You can’t help them if you’re dead, and if you charge into the palace demanding your throne back, you’ll be executed in less than an hour.”

  I slumped back into my chair and put my head in my hands. It was hopeless. It was all so, so hopeless. I should have seen this coming. I should have known by the look on Rylain’s face when she stormed out of the council room. If I’d been paying more attention, if I hadn’t been so self-involved, maybe I could have saved my mother, Penelope, Claes.

  But if I had...would I still have found Vi? I hated myself for thinking it. For considering for even a moment that my twin was worth more than my mother, more than Penelope, more than my first love. Because even though Claes had betrayed me, even though he’d broken my heart, I had loved him once.

  “Just tell him, Patrise,” Lisette snapped.

  “Tell me what?” I asked, looking from Patrise to Lisette to Swinton and back again. Their expressions remained neutral, but Patrise compressed his lips in a way that told me he was avoiding telling me something.

  “There are rumors, Bo,” he said finally. “Rumors that you...might not be singleborn after all.”

  “They’re true,” I said, simply and without thinking twice. “I have a twin sister, Vi. Our mother, Ina, owns this house. These are my sisters and brothers.”

  Lisette studied the various Abernathys spread around the room. “I see the resemblance.”

  “And Runa knew?” Patrise asked, incredulous.

  I nodded. “Gerlene will be here soon. She has the documents. If you want to see them, all you have to do is ask. Runa knew what she was doing when she declared that I would be the heir.”

  Patrise waved his hand dismissively as Lisette nodded.

  “That doesn’t surprise me a bit. But it does complicate things,” Lisette said. “You’ll need an army if you want to take back your throne. And the only way you’re going to get one is if you make nice with Denor. I have a ship in the harbor—you can be there in less than a week.”

  “I can’t leave Alskad and go begging at the foot of a foreign throne!” I exclaimed. “Not when my country is in the hands of the Suzerain.”

  “I don’t think you have much of a choice,” Swinton said, his voice low and gentle. “You can’t go back to the palace without enough muscle to take down the palace guard as well as the Shriven. You need help.”

  I scrubbed my hands through my hair. “There’s no good option here. I leave my country in Rylain’s grasp, and she hands all control to the Suzerain, who’ve done more to harm Alskad and its people than any two people since the cataclysm, or I stay and try to fight with no army.”

  “Denor is the right choice, Bo. We’ll be back as soon as we can manage,” Swinton said.

  “Why Denor?” Trix asked, and I started. I’d almost forgotten that my siblings were in the room.

  Patrise was quick to answer. “Their army is one of the most highly trained in the world, and they’re far more likely to help Bo than the Samirians. No foreigner has set foot on Samirian soil in more than a century. Denor is a small nation, but their soldiers are ferocious. It’s why they’ve never been swept up by the empire. The Denorian queen is only a few years older than Bo. Lisette knows her well.”

  “I’ve already written a letter to Noriava,” Lisette explained. “You won’t need it to get in the door, of course, but it might help plead your case if Nori knows you have friends among the singleborn here.”

  “I still don’t like it,” I said. “I can’t possibly feel good about leaving my people in Rylain’s hands. And what if I come back, and the rest of the council won’t support my reign? I need them if I’m going to take the throne back from Rylain.”

  “Don’t worry about them,” Lisette said. “Patrise and I can handle the other singleborn. You get Noriava’s support in Denor, and I promise you’ll return to a council ready to put you back on the throne and set this right.”

  Biting the inside of my cheek, I reluctantly nodded. “Fine. Let’s make it happen.”

  * * *

  The trip south to the Denorian capital would take five days, and Lisette’s ship would set sail on the morning tide. I had the hours until then to get my affairs—and my head—in order. At a table in one o
f the small side rooms, I finished my letter to Vi. The last letter I’d be able to safely send for some time. I poured every detail I could manage into it, and with a quick prayer to Gadrian, sealed it with a glob of candle wax.

  Grief and anxiety rolled through me in alternating waves. I wished that Vi and Runa could have gotten to know one another. They were so alike that I couldn’t decide if they would have bickered viciously or become an unstoppable force of nature. Either way, it was a great loss that they would never know each other.

  The front door squealed open, followed by multiple sets of booted feet galloping down the stairs. A cacophony of voices began to echo from the kitchen. Steeling myself for the chaos of my family, I tucked the letter into my jacket pocket and opened the door to find Pem grinning up at me. I caught sight of Swinton at the end of the hall, waiting for me, and nodded at him before turning my attention to Pem.

  “Looking for me, are you?”

  Pem grabbed my hand. “Gerlene is here, and she’s brought tea and cakes and pasties enough that we can all eat until we throw up. Two huge baskets stuffed so full they wouldn’t shut. I was going to knock, but you said not to knock, so I decided to wait for you instead.”

  I fought back a laugh. “Go, go! Before you’re left with only crumbs. I need to have a quick word with Swinton, but I’ll be there in just a moment.”

  Nodding, Pem looked down the hall at Swinton, who was leaning against a doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest. Even though the house was cold to the point of turning the end of my nose and my fingertips to ice, Swinton had discarded his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal the ropy muscles and deeply tanned skin of his forearms.

  “Save me a pasty, will you?” I asked Pem.

  Pem’s mouth knotted, and she narrowed her eyes at Swinton before giving my hand a squeeze and darting off down the hallway. I crossed the squeaking, scuffed hardwood to Swinton.

  “Thanks for bringing Patrise and Lisette. I was a little alarmed at first, but I feel better now, knowing that I’ve got the support of the two most conniving people in Alskad,” I said, pecking him on the cheek.

  “The solicitor’s here.”

  “Pem said. Are you all right?”

  “Those two, Pem and Still. They seem to be under the impression that they’ll be coming with us to Denor.”

  My mouth dropped open in surprise, I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Pem’s head disappear into the kitchen.

  “I...well, I did promise that I’d find jobs for them, when I was once again in a position to do so. I certainly didn’t tell them they could come with us to Denor. Though—”

  Swinton put a finger to my lips. “Don’t even start. They’d be a liability, and you know it.”

  I swatted his hand away. “I don’t think they would be. They’re thieves, and good ones, and they can read and write. There’s no one more invisible than a street urchin.”

  “Except a street urchin who doesn’t speak the language. We can use them here—put the whole family to work if they’re willing—but I’m not about to take two brats into a foreign country where they’re as likely to lose a hand for stealing as they are to pick up a useful bit of information.”

  I saw his point. The Denorians, governed by a strict code of personal responsibility and ethics rather than the pedantic law of the temple, enforced extraordinarily harsh punishments for crimes that affected the well-being and livelihood of others. They valued education, and school, followed by an apprenticeship, was mandatory for every Denorian citizen through early adulthood. They were a society of scientists and philosophers, and the medicine that came out of Denor was the most advanced in the world. They’d constructed, from the ruin of the earth, a society in which two children, roaming about without supervision, were sure to be noticed and taken in by someone whose job it was to look after their community’s youth.

  “What about as valets?” I asked, unable to shake my desire to fulfill the careless promise I’d made to the twins.

  Swinton scratched the back of his head and eyed me, the muscles in his jaw doing a wild dance. I gave him a smile that I hoped was both sincere and seductive at the same time and willed him to agree. After a long moment, he sighed and pulled me into his arms. I drank in his scent—wood smoke and wool and sweat and spice—and let some of my tension seep out of my body.

  “You’ve got all the makings of a terribly effective king, bully.” Swinton’s whisper prickled the hairs on my neck. “Unabashedly manipulative and frighteningly smart, with the good looks and charm to mask it from your unwitting victims.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “They can go as cabin attendants turned valets. It’ll excuse some of their ignorance, and they’re sure to’ve picked up a bit of knowledge about ships from Brenna.”

  Whoops of delight shattered the quiet. Pem and Still came barreling down the hallway and wrapped themselves around our legs, nearly knocking Swinton and me off balance. A reluctant grin spread over Swinton’s face, and he kissed me deeply, to a resounding chorus of gagging noises and “Eww!” from the twins knotted around our legs.

  “Off, brats,” Swinton commanded. “I’ve a powerful hunger, and this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve eaten a little girl for a snack. Might not’ve signed up to go off to Denor with us if you’d known I was a dimmy like Vi, would you?”

  Disentangling himself from me, Swinton winked and reached down to tickle the girls, who scrambled away, screaming and giggling.

  “You’d never eat me,” Still said. “Bo wouldn’t let you.”

  I grinned and waggled my eyebrows at her. “We’ll see how useful you make yourself, little sister.”

  The girls took off toward the kitchen, shrieking. We found the rest of the family sitting with Gerlene around the kitchen table, which was piled high with steaming jugs of tea, the peeled remnants of citrus fruits shipped from Ilor, sandwiches wrapped in waxed papers and piles of flaky pasties, both savory and sweet. Gerlene, in olive wool trimmed with forest green fur, pushed back her chair as I entered the room and sank to the floor in a deep bow.

  “Long live the king.”

  Swinton echoed her. “Long live the king.”

  My chin quivered as my siblings repeated the phrase a third time. “Long live the king.”

  To keep myself from losing control and weeping for what felt like the millionth time since the sun rose on this horrible day, I knelt and pulled Gerlene to her feet. “I don’t forget that you lost someone you loved, as well. She adored you, Gerlene. I am so very, very sorry for your loss.”

  Behind her glasses, Gerlene’s eyes shimmered with tears. She cupped my cheek in one hand. “She loved you dearly, Bo, but more than that, she believed in you. I hope you know that.”

  “I know. And I know that she loved you, too.” I squeezed Gerlene’s hand. “I’ll see that her legacy is honored. I’ll take care of this empire. I swear it.”

  She smiled at me and sat back down. “Your siblings tell me you’ve a journey planned,” she said.

  Before I could open my mouth, Pem and Still were off at a gallop, telling Gerlene everything that had transpired during the afternoon’s visit with Lisette and Patrise. Swinton laced his fingers through mine, and I settled myself in one of the rickety wooden chairs. I took a deep breath, poured myself a mug of tea and watched my glorious, wild family in action.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Vi

  “I have known pain. I have known panic. I have feared for my life. But until now, I have never experienced the blind rush that comes when you are barely clinging to survival.”

  —from Vi to Bo

  We streaked through the jungle, our horses’ hooves pounding a confident rhythm on the packed, damp earth of the trail. Even though the world around me felt strangely distant, terror still pounded through my veins. I urged my mount onward, following Curlin when she left the trail and slowing to a trot as we w
ove between the trees. As much as I ached to go faster, it would be suicide on an unfamiliar horse in the dense greenery.

  As we forged ahead, the sounds of the Shriven on foot began to fade. But there were at least six on horseback behind us, and they were gaining ground fast. They crashed through the trees behind us, pushing their horses past what was safe, past what was smart.

  “Faster, Vi,” Curlin called. “We’ve got to go faster.”

  I crouched low over my horse’s neck, urging him onward. Branches lashed my face, my arms, my back, and trails of pain coursed across my skin. The light that filtered through the trees grew brighter and brighter until we broke out of the jungle into a wide, open field. The sun had burned away the morning’s fog and was blindingly bright overhead. Curlin and I both kicked our mounts to a gallop, weaving across the open grass.

  Gunfire cracked like a whip in my ear, and I glanced back. The cluster of Shriven rode less than a ship’s length behind us, and their guns glinted like diamonds in the sun. A bullet whizzed by my head, and I ducked even lower, the dusty smell of the horse’s sweat and leather saddle overpowering the sharp tang of my own fear and sweat.

  I had to get to safety. Everything would be fine once I was well away and safe.

  The clap of the Shriven’s guns became like drumbeats, pushing us faster and faster across the open field. Accuracy was impossible at this range. Their shots went wide or dipped into the earth too soon, but that didn’t seem to deter them. As they drew closer, bullets flew past us and slammed into the earth around our horses’ hooves, throwing up clods of dirt and grass. Curlin shouted a string of curses, but my only focus was staying on the horse and keeping the pain at bay. My shoulder burned, and the wind rushing over the ravaged skin and exposed muscle of my back felt like a thousand tiny knives.

  As we galloped onward, I suddenly began to recognize our surroundings. Just over the next hill, we’d come to a thick patch of woods, and, on the other side, a gorge. There was only one way across the gorge for a mile in either direction, the picture of it clear as spring water in my head: a sturdy wooden suspension bridge that led to the little clearing where we’d left our horses and the brats to look after them.