Dragonoak: Gall and Wormwood, page 15
Eden drew close and hovered uncertainly in the corner of my vision.
“You aren’t the only one with a brain,” Kidira said, prodding my forehead. “And yes. It is that stupid.”
“We have to do something. We can’t just leave Halla there,” I said, speaking her name as though I knew it better than my own. “If we have her, if we save her, we’ll have two necromancers. The King has been running an entire country for centuries – maybe longer – using necromancers. Imagine what we’ll be able to do for Felheim. For Kastelir.”
“Will she be as effective as you?” Kidira asked, after a pause. I wished she hadn’t considered it. “I promised Claire I would protect you, and that means keeping you from your own foolish plans, too.”
Eden edged towards me. Which wasn’t to say she thought I was in the right.
“We have to save her, Kidira. No one else will. I understand if you and Eden don’t want to come! It might even be for the best. But I’m going back. I’m going to get her out of there and I’m going to bring her back to Thule.”
I was so certain. Not just certain: justified in my future actions, in the belief I’d be able to break Halla free from whatever shadowy control the King held over her. How could I not be, with what had passed between us? It did not matter that we had spent mere minutes together, that I had not known her name or face before today; I felt the same for Kondo-Kana, and that was enough for me to put the blood on her hands out of my mind.
“If you do not calm yourself, Rowan, we shall soon discover whether or not a necromancer can be knocked unconscious.”
Kidira didn’t make empty threats. She only ever made grim promises to herself. Her hand tightened into a fist, and I almost wanted her to hit me. I wanted to know whether I could black out from sheer force alone. The only time consciousness had been ripped from me by something other than exhaustion was at Katja’s hand, blood soaking into floorboards, flesh healing around a blade.
“Just because you dream of her doesn’t mean you have to act like her,” I muttered.
My words ripped strength from Kidira’s body. It wasn’t all of her strength, though it would’ve drained a dozen people who hadn’t been through what she had, who hadn’t been forced to do things I still could not imagine. Her fingers loosened, but she did not relax.
“I do not have time for this,” she whispered. “Time for you. All of this was supposed to be behind me. It was not supposed to unravel again. I—”
“Stop thinking about yourself! Halla needs help. She needs to escape from the King, and Agados. Imagine if Akela had been forced to come back here. If you hadn’t given her a place in Kastelir,” I said. “Halla’s trapped here. She’s being lied to, and she—”
“She is a child,” Kidira said, jaw set. While her words did not weaken, they softened. She was relenting.
It was what I’d wanted, but all I could think was that Halla was a child. Halla, who could not have been three or four years younger than I was, was still a child. It took all of my control not to shout that I’d been a child when my village cast me out, when I had no choice but to run; when I had watched Isin burn around me and lost Claire; when Katja had taken me and carved all the good pieces of me out, out, out.
But it wasn’t about me. Halla was the one stuck in that monolith, the one who didn’t even understand what she was.
“Stay here,” I told Kidira, exhaling heavily. “Stay with Eden.”
“I can count the number of friends I have had on one hand,” Kidira said. “Jonas is dead, Atthis is Rylan’s property, and Akela and Kouris can fend for themselves. I would not risk losing Claire’s trust by allowing you to march into a city ruled by those who evidently know how to keep a necromancer in line. Not to mention captive.”
How easy it would be to let myself to fall into the trap of adoring Kidira for her fierce loyalty to Claire, kindled not out of position or power, but from the friendship they’d built from the loss they’d shared. How easy it would be to relent, to tell her that I agreed; there was nothing good about necromancers, and I could be a model, self-deprecating example to earn her patience.
Not as easy as it was to believe that it was all about me. To believe that Kidira’s anger and cruelty had been shaped in reaction to me, and that everything leading up to my arrival in Kastelir had been inconsequential.
I let my shoulders drop, and refused to linger on the thought of King Jonas, marching through Isin under my command and dying for a second time a handful of hours later.
“Eden? You can stay. You’ll be safer here.”
“Oh!” Eden said, flustered. Embarrassed to have witnessed the conversation escalate. “No, no. I think I shall feel better if I am part of this. And if I’m to be honest, I am not certain how safe I would consider myself alone in Agados.”
The muscles in my face twitched, but I wasn’t certain if I managed to smile at her.
We headed to the west of Soldato as night fell, and made a camp within a thicket of trees. There would be no charging into Soldato, no storming into their single, solitary tower by force. I agreed with Kidira on that much.
She set about gathering firewood, and Eden shuffled close to me. She told me that she believed I was doing the right thing; that wanting to save Halla was a good and noble desire. I hummed flatly and propped my chin on my knees. Was there anything good in it? There were so many in Agados who deserved a freedom they didn't know existed, and I was not helping them.
They weren't necromancers, weren't like me, and so I offered them nothing.
Another part of me argued that in taking away the King's necromancer, I was helping them people. I was helping the entire country, and would help it all the more once Rylan had been stopped. It wasn't selfish. It was strategic. It was like the game Reis used to play with Tizo on the chequered board.
Kidira snapped the wood apart. I laid on my back, arm folded across the bridge of my nose.
“Do you have a plan?” she asked, wanting my answer to be no.
“I know where she is. I mean, I can know where she is. If I get close enough, I'll be able to track her down. And she can do the same to me. She did it once before, and she'll do it again. I know she will.”
“That isn't a plan,” Kidira said. “It is more than likely that the entire city will be on the watch for us, and we do not blend in. If we are able to reach the centre of Soldato, there is the matter of getting past the guards and into the building. And if we do get in, there is the matter of all the guards inside. You saw what their crossbows did to Kouris.”
I grunted. A plan would come to me in the morning. In my sleep, if I was lucky. I had stumbled my way from my village, through Kastelir, across Canth and back to Felheim, and was confident that with Kidira on my side, I could fumble together the less impossible parts of the situation and get out of Agados without having to rip free bolts and heal anyone's heart over.
I chose not to think of it. I had never been prepared for anything in my life, had not decided to leave until I was already running, and instead thought back to Felheim. To Claire. It was the first time I had been away from her for any real length of time since finding her again. It was the first time I had been away from her and been allowed to miss her without believing that she was dead.
I didn't force memories from my mind. I let them wash over me, let them sift through all my wariness, all that had been uprooted within me throughout the day, and turned them to thoughts of the future. To thoughts of returning to Thule and having her arms around me again.
I wondered what she was doing at that moment. If she was sleeping. Unlikely. She might have been in bed, if Sen had convinced her that she at least needed to try resting. I was glad that she was with her, along with Kouris and Akela. They wouldn't let her be alone, or spend too much time with her mother. I took the time to miss them, as well.
Perhaps Claire had seen her father. Perhaps her mother was relaxing her grasp on the country. Perhaps it had all been sorted in my absence, and Claire was Queen. All that was left to worry about was getting the refugees safe harbour, bringing my father and brother to Thule, and asking Claire if her chambers could become mine, as well. After everything, it felt ridiculous to create a pretence of distance between us.
My sleep was gentle, if not peaceful. I didn't dream of Katja, or anyone's head between my hands. If my mind was pulling together the fragments of a plan, it put no strain on the rest of my body.
When I awoke, the morning was warm and pleasant. I kept my eyes closed and hummed into the grass as though it was a pillow, and stretched out under the first filtered rays of light. What we'd seen in Agados almost didn't matter. Arguing with Kidira last night hadn't left me dreading the thought of having to face her again, and the ease of the warm ground cradling me and the soft greeting a breeze brought whispered together to let me know that it was alright. I could sleep for longer, for hours or days, and it wouldn't matter.
I almost let sleep reclaim me, but it was a blessing I didn't.
I opened my eyes and there, crouched in the long grass, was Halla.
It wasn't the comfort of Agados cradling me. It was her presence. Above me, all around me. The deluge of sleep still soaking my bones made it feel like the most normal thing in the world, because why wouldn't Halla be there? If she felt what I felt, then there was no better place for her on Bosma.
It didn't last long. Even in the presence of another necromancer, self-preservation didn't desert me entirely. There had to be others there. The Agadians, the guards with their crossbows. Tirok.
I grabbed Halla's wrists and she started in a way that left her smiling crookedly.
“Halla!” I blurted out. My heart thundered in my chest, though from what I could see, Eden and Kidira were the only other people in the woods. “What are you doing here? How are you here?”
“Rowan!” she said, milky eyes glinting under the pale morning light. “I had to find you. I had to. After yesterday, I...”
She smiled. She didn't answer my second question but oh, it didn't matter. It couldn’t. Not with her there in front of me, annihilating the need to ever form a plan. My mind raced faster than my heart did, and I knew beyond knowing that it wasn't a dream. She'd found a way to escape, and she'd come to me. We'd go back to Felheim together, and though I'd always wanted a necromancer to teach me all the things I didn't know, having her there showed me that there was already so much I understood, so much I had to pass on.
“I'm glad you're here,” I said, placing a hand on her cheek. I couldn't have felt closer to her, had I stumbled across a long-lost sister, or met the mother I'd never known. “I was coming back for you! I promise. Kidira, Eden and I were going to figure out how to get back into Soldato, back into that weird tower...”
“The King's tower,” Halla corrected. She paused, listening for the slightest shift in her surroundings. “Your friends are here?”
“Right here! Still sleeping.”
Halla hummed.
“Kidira. I know her name. The King says...” Again she paused, searching for the right words. “He says what became of Kastelir was because of her actions. King Jonas, King Atthis, they were good rulers, but...”
I snorted a laugh.
“What? I doubt they put in half the work Kidira did between them,” I said, too overwhelmingly relieved to be unnerved by the watery way she smiled whenever she spoke of the King. “Trust me, she hasn't slowed down one bit.”
My words had no weight when balanced against the King of Agados', but Halla humoured me, because she understood that we were the same. Springing to her feet, she tugged me up after her.
“Come!” she said.
“Where are we going?” I asked, though my feet were already moving.
“To the King!” she said cheerfully. “I’ve found you, and I'm sure he's missed you. He'll be happy to have you again.”
She said it so lightly, so effortlessly, that even I could've mistaken it for the truth. To hear her speak was to believe that I really did know the King of Agados, and I had taken quick, wide steps before I remembered how to grind to a halt.
“Go back? Halla, I'm not going back into Soldato, and I'm definitely not visiting the King.”
“We have to!” she protested, and tugged my hand. “He'll be angry if I'm not quick. The guards, they are...”
She bit her lower lip, fingers tightening around my wrist.
“The guards? What happened to the guards?”
“They didn't want to let me out,” she said, letting go of my hand to cross her palms over her heart. “They didn't understand. It was important. This is important, isn't it? So I just, I stopped them. For a moment. They'll start again, once we go back. You can even help!”
A coldness swept over me, and not because of what Halla really meant. She didn't grasp what she'd done, beyond stopping the guards. It wasn't a case of the guards being alive, and then being dead: they were moving, and now they weren't.
“Halla,” I said, placing my hands on her shoulders. I wanted to drive her into the ground and stop her from fleeing, but I didn't. Couldn't. “You don't have to go back. You don't have to do what the King wants you to. Come with me! You can tell we're the same, right? I'll teach you. There are so many things I want to tell you, and I'll take you to a castle. A real castle! No one will ever tell you that you can't go out, or that you're not allowed to do whatever you want to.”
Halla's shoulders rose. A noise escaped her throat, something between confusion and frustration, and she stepped back, shaking me off. I let her go. I knew she wouldn't retreat more than a few feet.
“I have to return. This won't work if I get too far away...” Halla said, lifting her hands. My heart was no longer pounding. It twisted and sunk in my chest as my mind bubbled with all the lies she must’ve been told. “The King. I need the King. I need to be by him.”
“You don’t need the King. He needs you,” I said, using every jot of restraint I had to keep my voice level. “You’re a necromancer, Halla. Same as me. You can go anywhere on Bosma, you can go to Felheim or Canth or the Bloodless Lands, and you’ll be as powerful there are you are here.”
“It’s not safe outside of Agados. I know what they do in Kastelir. In Felheim. It isn’t right! If I go, I’ll be… I’ll be like that. That’s what he says,” Halla murmured.
“I’m from Felheim,” I said brightly. It was difficult to pretend I didn’t understand what Halla meant about all the people who didn’t fit into Agados’ neat little boxes, but I did it for her. “We’re the same. You can trust me. If you come with me, I promise you, it’ll be the best thing either of us has ever done. Honestly, my powers didn’t come from your King. I’ve never even met him.”
Halla shook her head, murmuring that I was lying, lying, lying, over and over.
It was impossible to tell how long she’d been kept in Soldato, and though time could not change the colour of her skin or smooth out all the quirks of her accent, it had been long enough to make her forget she’d ever been anywhere else.
The King was inside her head. His ideas were embedded deep within her, powers tangled around his beliefs, and he didn’t need to be close to exert his control.
I wasn’t going to alleviate any of that in a single morning. The best thing I could do was fall silent and give her the chance to process what I’d told her.
She leant against a tree, buried her face in her sleeve and began to sob. I knew I’d do more harm than good in placing a hand on her shoulder and asking if she was alright. I watched her shoulders shake as she took sharp, stuttery breaths, hearing footsteps behind me between her loud sniffs.
Eden was awake, and doing an excellent job of looking radiant, despite the leaves in her tangled hair and the dirt smeared across one of her cheeks. She greeted me with a loose wave, smiled pleasantly in Halla’s direction, but caught herself before she could get out a good morning.
“Is that…?” She was gasping. “Goodness. My goodness, it is, isn’t it! How did she get here? Is she alright?”
“She’s confused,” I said. “And, um. Necromancy. That’s the long and short of it.”
Eden nodded knowingly, though it took a few seconds for my meaning to sink in, and promptly began patting her pockets.
“Dear? Halla, wasn’t it?” Eden asked, brandishing a handkerchief. “Do you need something to dry your eyes on?”
Halla tensed at the sound of another voice and tentatively held out a hand in search of what Eden was offering. Eden placed the handkerchief gently between her fingers, and Halla dabbed her face before blowing her nose loudly into it.
Kidira’s words came back to me. She really was just a child, trapped in a tower by a man trapped in time.
“I wasn’t given the opportunity to introduce myself earlier,” Eden said, when Halla’s tears finally slowed. “I’m Eden. Eden Hawthorne, of Thule.”
“H-Halla,” she murmured. “Oh. But you already knew that. Thank you… thank you for the tissue.”
“Quite welcome!”
Eden caught my eye and raised her brow. I could only answer her by holding my arms out in a clueless shrug.
There was one easy way to make Halla come with us, and that was making her come with us. Manipulating her. Telling her that her King would be furious at her for what she’d done to his guards and that it was an awful, awful thing. He’d never forgive her, but we’d take her along, regardless of that.
I was ashamed to have so much as conjured the idea. We would be no better than Agados if we took Halla in the same way they’d stolen and reshaped her.
“I’m going back to Thule. There’s so much going on there, and Claire – Princess Claire of Felheim – needs me. I don’t want to leave you, Halla, but I have to. You understand that, don’t you?” I said, voice soft. “You can stay here. You can go back to Soldato, back to your King, if that’s what you really want. But if you don’t want that, you can come with us. With me. We’re on your side, okay?”
Halla nodded, but I didn’t wait for an answer. I turned back to camp where Kidira, long since awake, was stamping out the last of our fire and repacking our bags. Smart. Whatever fraction of the Agadian army that hadn’t been given away to Rylan was likely fast on Halla’s heels and Tirok would know exactly who she’d gone to.
