Dragonoak: Gall and Wormwood, page 35
I buried my face against the side of her neck. I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to pass judgement until I knew the whole story. I trusted that she would share it with me one day, but it was impossible to stop my mind from chewing on the gristle of all she’d said.
Strangely, selfishly, there was relief in it, too: she did not believe I would change. She did not believe I would become the things I feared the most.
“I went to the Bloodless Lands,” I whispered. “I saw what you did.”
“Myros is beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, arms wrapping loosely around me. “The colours of Phos, the golden fields and the red rock. I am glad you went. Someone must.”
I put my arms around her in kind and realised how little of her there was. She was not as lithe as Queen Nasrin, but she was shorter, all small pieces – fingers, joints, teeth, eyes – coming together to form a whole that did not take up much space at all. She was not a monolith. She was not a mountain or a fast-flowing river, though she was certainly as old and deep as the Qart. She was made of the same parts that I was, and she understood me.
“Do you ever look at the moon and the ocean and think how wonderful it is that nature works together to push and pull: that the tides come and go and fill the air with sea-salt and leave behind smooth shells?” she murmured. “Or do you look at the moon and see how it tears at the sea? How it tries to rend it from Bosma like a scab, like dead, rotting skin, and the ocean has no choice but to throw itself this way and that, ever crashing against the rocks it inadvertently shapes?”
“I—”
“Oh, do not concern yourself with that. Come. Let us join the others.”
Together, we made our way through the dim palace halls, past closed-off chambers and bare walls, and ended up in Queen Nasrin’s study. There were few other places suited to receiving company. Atalanta and Varn had taken their place at the door and Yin Zhou sat on the chaise longue with Queen Nasrin. Ade stood behind them both, assessing every last movement for a sign of betrayal.
“Teleros,” Yin Zhou said, bowing her head in greeting. There was something stiff in her movement, something unfamiliar to even herself. “How nice of you to wake up.”
“Tahn-Zjau,” Kondo-Kana returned. When she smiled, her teeth showed. “I would not miss a dear friend’s arrival.”
“Might we continue with business?” Yin Zhou asked, gesturing to Claire’s letters spread across the crowded table. I was meant to hear nothing but mild irritation in her voice, but there was something underneath that. Something that spoke of the need to seek permission. It wasn’t respect. It was something older than that. Fear, perhaps.
“Of course,” Kondo-Kana said, falling onto the sofa in a stream of red fabric. She leant against Queen Nasrin’s side but made certain to face Yin Zhou. “We are family now, Tahn-Zjau. There is no need to be so formal around me.”
“I am only sorry I missed the ceremony,” Yin Zhou said. She paused to see if Kondo-Kana had anything more to add. When she didn’t, she set her gaze back on Queen Nasrin and said, “I have read a thousand documents of the sort before, Nasrin. I know when there is some hidden clause. This is nothing but an offer of friendship. Take them up on it. I shall speak to their Queen on your behalf, if you wish.”
“You’re going to visit Asar? I thought you’d sworn off the continent for at least another century,” Queen Nasrin said.
“Sometimes, even my plans change.”
Looking at me was Yin Zhou’s biggest mistake. Her eyes only wandered for a split second, but Kondo-Kana didn’t miss the intent burning in them.
“No,” she said plainly. “You will not go to Mesomia.”
“I won’t?” Yin Zhou asked tersely.
“You will not,” Kondo-Kana said. “You are not a selfish woman, Tahn. Sometimes, I do not think you are a woman, a person, at all: you are a force, you are part of nature. So long have you wandered Bosma and set history on its course. I know you do not do all of this for yourself. But sometimes, sometimes you are wrong. Sometimes, you think of yourself and it is not in relation to the world at large.
“You will not go to Mesomia. Rowan will not be in your debt; she is not yours to use.”
“Felheim needs an army. I have plenty at my disposal, and—”
“Jahta: kénsz shalaau zha valh asta, qon ka von as,” Kondo-Kana said, eyes flashing.
The moon, pulling the tide. The moon, tearing skin from muscle.
Yin Zhou ground her teeth together. Ade pretended not to understand what passed between them, and I watched it unfold. I watched Kondo-Kana take an army from me, watched her forbid Yin Zhou from helping us win an impossible battle, and I could not have been more relieved.
I wouldn’t be hers. I wouldn’t be used.
“Nasrin,” Yin Zhou near-enough snapped. “Go in my place. Meet the Queen for yourself and consider her terms.”
“Now,” Queen Nasrin said slowly. “You want me to go to Felheim now, with things as they are, to talk to someone.”
“Things will always be as they are. Canth will not one day be the land you dream it can be if you do not step outside of the palace once in a while, Nasrin. I am pleased with the progress you have made thus far, but even if there was some catch, why would you not want to rid your country of its debt?”
My eyes darted between the two of them. The conversation couldn’t go fast enough. My mind was racing ahead; already, I was dragging Varn and Atalanta back to Thule with me.
“And who will take care of my country while I am gone? Who will respond to all of these?” She used her bare foot to gesture to the letters making towers out of the table. “Who will attend the hearings? Who will answer to the people when the banks of the Qart are not fertile enough for the third harvest running?”
“Those are trivial matters. Anyone who sounds as though they know what they’re doing can attend to them,” Yin Zhou said dismissively. “Do not worry for Canth. I shall take care of this palace you call a home.”
“You will stay here?”
“I will. The law permits for a suitably competent family member to rule in one’s absence.”
“When did you implement that law?”
“Everything for a reason.”
“It is not that I do not trust you. You are… Canth would flourish in your hands,” Queen Nasrin admitted. “But what do you gain from this?”
“An insight of Canth’s workings. A break, more than anything.”
“I… I cannot leave. There is too much I must do here, and—”
It was a weak argument, even before she was interrupted. I saw in her eyes that she wanted to go and that she understood the potential growth it would mean for her country. It was only that she was afraid to hope.
“You can,” Yin Zhou said. “And you will. Teleros?”
“I have always known I would return. That Asar’s shores would greet me once more. There is hope in this, Nasrin, and I have known Tahn-Zjau for a very long time. She will not fail Canth. Not while I still draw breath.”
Lowering her voice, Queen Nasrin leant towards Kondo-Kana and whispered, “But the ocean, Kana, you will have to—”
“It does not matter,” Kondo-Kana said. She finally turned her back to Yin Zhou and placed a hand on Queen Nasrin’s face. “Do not think of me. Think of Canth; think of all we can ask of Mesomia. Rowan’s dragon will have us across the Wide Waters in a week, and the Queen, she will swallow this debt and offer us her hand in friendship. I trust Rowan. I trust her Queen.”
The course was clear. Queen Nasrin closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and said, “Very well. Very well. I cannot argue with my aunt and wife.”
And so it was.
CHAPTER XIX
Varn and Atalanta’s room was one of the few left open in the palace. They’d made a home of it, even if most of the decorating had been left to Atalanta. There was a small, low shrine in one corner, covered in half-burnt candles and pools of melted wax. A fist-sized statue of Isjin entirely unlike the form Kondo-Kana revered stood in the centre. Windows ran from floor to ceiling, thin curtains billowing in the warm breeze, and one wall was taken up by alternating displays of books, weapons and beautifully unfamiliar trinkets that spoke of adventures in lands beyond my imagination.
Atalanta settled down on the sofa, but Varn insisted on dragging me to the bed to better interrogate me about the situation.
“Fuck, I’m just saying,” she said, hands grasping at the nothing above her as she rolled onto her back and clicked her tongue. “All me and Lanta have done since you left is stand around like we’re bloody being paid to look pretty, and you’re telling me about your new dragon and phoenix, and your girlfriend’s a Queen.”
“Right?” I said, rolling onto my side. Varn scowled with something like jealousy, perhaps missing the adventures pirating brought with it, but Atalanta watched from the sofa with unabashed amusement. I doubted Varn’s time had been that boring in my absence, considering she had spent most of her stint in Mahon whining about wanting to see Atalanta. “It’s as if either everything happens at once, or it doesn’t happen. I’ve gone months in Port Mahon without anything interesting happening, anything beyond… life, but since I got to Felheim, there’s been enough happening to last years. Decades! I don’t know how I’ve found the time to sleep.”
“I still don’t believe you about the dragon. Or the phoenix. Gods! Ain’t making a fool of myself for you, North Woods. Not until I see ‘em for myself.”
“And you will see them, darling,” Atalanta reminded her. “We leave in the morning.”
Scrunching her face up, Varn said, “How the hell are you so calm? We’re going to Asar, across the Wide Waters, with no fucking warning!”
“I have known Yin Zhou longer than you, my love. I have witnessed things far less believable and more abrupt in her employ plenty of times,” Atalanta said.
Varn furrowed her brow and decided to give up trying to accept any of it. Me being there was surprise enough. Every now and again she’d glance at me, narrow her gaze, and sneer whenever I smiled.
After a few minutes of such a back and forth, Varn shuffled onto her side, forehead inches from mine, and searched my face.
“That nutjob who cut your hand off. Katja. You said she’s with Rylan and that now, yeah?” Varn asked without consideration. She didn’t give me time to nod. “We’ll find her. I’ll stick a knife in her face for you, alright?”
I didn’t answer. Not because I couldn’t and not because Katja being brought up never failed to wind me, but because there was something caring and sincere there. It just so happened to come from Varn, who equated acts of violence with displays of affection.
“I see you’re going to make a wonderful impression on the Felheimish,” Atalanta said, when the silence dragged on.
We didn’t sleep. Every time I thought I might drift off, Varn had another question about the food or customs or climate. She wanted to know exactly how cold it was going to be, and when I explained that it was nearing the end of summer, so she shouldn’t have too much to worry about, she said we had too many seasons. Going to Asar was the worst idea anyone had ever had. Ever.
Atalanta rose with the sun and packed for herself and Varn. Varn sat with her arms folded across her chest, complained that she was tired and, impressively, was more irritable than usual.
I helped Atalanta carry the bags Varn wouldn’t and met Queen Nasrin and Kondo-Kana by the palace doors. Yin Zhou and Ade were with them, and Yin Zhou nodded over and over while Queen Nasrin spoke at length.
“—Nasrin. Darling. This is not the first time I have watched over a country in its leader’s absence, and Canth is not in the worst shape, either. You spend so very much time behind letters and accounts that I daresay the people will scarcely notice your absence. I will not be public about this. I shall simply do the job as you yourself would.”
“So you say,” Queen Nasrin said. “I understand who and what you are, but you understand why I am not comfortable with this. You understand how very much of myself I have given to Canth. And it rather feels like I am being pushed out of the door.”
“You give more to Canth in visiting Felheim,” Yin Zhou assured her. “And was this not in your best interest, your wife would never allow me to move you an inch.”
“I will not interfere with history,” Kondo-Kana said, sounding as though she’d got far more sleep than I had.
“And yet you did not allow Yin Zhou to aid Rowan,” Queen Nasrin sighed.
“It is different. I am protecting my own. Humans, now, it is not for me to meddle with them.”
“Hmm,” Queen Nasrin said, keenly aware that she had no choice but to relent. Reaching out to take Yin Zhou’s hand, she said, “If this is truly for Canth, then so be it. I will see our debt ground to dust.”
“So you shall,” Yin Zhou agreed, shaking her hand.
With nothing more to say, she saw herself into the palace. Ade remained outside and Queen Nasrin visibly relaxed, shoulders slacking. Deciding that the sooner we left the sooner we could return, Queen Nasrin wasted no more time. She had Atalanta and Varn move their collective luggage onto the top of the carriage Yin Zhou had lent us and climbed in with Kondo-Kana at her side. Yin Zhou had lent us horses, as well. Varn didn’t trust anyone in Mahon enough to look after Fiennes and Musashi for more than five minutes.
Atalanta took the seat at the front of the carriage and I hopped inside. Varn didn’t move.
“You coming?” I asked, poking my head out of the window.
“Yeah, I just—” Varn began. Words failing her, she glanced over her shoulder and caught Ade’s eye.
She immediately turned around and scrunched her face up, thinking that if she were still enough, Ade would forget the eye contact.
Varn’s shoulders rose to her ears as Ade’s boots crunched against the parched ground behind her. With a hand on her shoulder, she turned Varn on the spot and put a fist under her chin to hold her gaze.
“Do not be afraid of Felheim, or the journey there,” Ade said. I was so surprised by the fact that she was speaking that it took me a moment to process that words actually meant something. “You will be fine.”
“Yeah, I— Look, I just—” Varn tried. “Argh. Whatever.”
Ade’s hand slipped from Varn’s shoulder and she wrapped an arm around her back. Varn slumped against her, returned the hug, and the pair embraced with awkward, heartfelt warmth.
“You will be fine,” Ade repeated. “You are greater than any dragon, stronger than any storm.”
“Yeah. Sure,” Varn said, rolling her shoulders to free herself. “Have fun doing fuck all for the next few months.”
She turned back to the carriage and saw I’d witnessed the whole thing. Splaying a hand against my face, she pushed me through the window and into the far corner.
“What?” she asked as she barrelled in after me. “Gods. Don’t tell me you listened to Tizo about her, Rowan.”
“I just thought—”
“No one’s gonna cut my mum’s tongue out,” Varn grumbled. “Not even Yin Zhou.”
The journey was uneventful. Varn fell asleep slouched against my side and Kondo-Kana was occupied by her own past. Deep in thought, she did little more than hum under her breath throughout the days it took us to reach Port Mahon. Having her close was enough. I drifted in and out of sleep, jerked awake by bumps in the road, eyes always snapping open to see Queen Nasrin scowling at her latest failed draft.
She was putting too much pressure on herself and telling her that she didn’t have to worry about being so formal did nothing to help. Her journey marked the first time anyone from Canth’s royal family had visited its supposed allies, and Queen Nasrin was determined to do things right. Writing the perfect reply was the first step.
I didn’t try to stop her, after that. It couldn’t be easy for her. She had, in effect, been pushed off her throne with a few short words and exiled from her own country due to a spur of the moment decision. It didn’t matter how temporary her absence would be. She understood how tenuous her rule was with Yin Zhou’s shadow draped over Canth.
We spent our nights in small inns across barren stretches of road, never mentioning who we were. On my first journey to Chandaran, I’d been glowing and the innkeepers couldn’t have been more delighted to have a necromancer in the building. I wasn’t certain they’d be able to comprehend having two necromancers and the Queen of Canth under their roof.
“Looking forward to seeing Reis?” I asked Varn as Port Mahon rolled into view. We’d taken the reins from Atalanta, who was cheerfully chatting with Queen Nasrin about all the things that wouldn’t go wrong in their absence. She had the utmost faith in both Yin Zhou and her Queen.
“Shut it,” Varn said. “It ain’t even been seven months since I was here. Everyone’s gonna think I’m doing it on purpose. Gods. Like going to Asar ain’t bad enough, we’ve gotta go through Mahon to get there.”
Poking her head out of the window and holding her feathered hat in place with a hand, Atalanta said, “Don’t fret. You’ll get to see Akela, won’t you?”
“I fucking hate the lot of you,” Varn muttered, steering the horses towards the stables outside Port Mahon.
“He’s here,” Kondo-Kana said, smiling distantly as she stepped out of the carriage and slipped an arm around my shoulders. “Your dragon.”
“You can feel him?” I asked.
“Of course. He is you and you are him. It is the same,” Kondo-Kana said. I didn’t doubt her, but I’d only ever been able to sense Oak using my eyes and ears.
“You mean… like he’s a necromancer?”
“He is keeping himself from dying, is he not?” she asked. “You cannot feel him because we do not understand ourselves in the way we understand other Aejin.”
That made sense. If I felt as I did around Kondo-Kana or Halla when I was alone, I never would’ve had a dark moment in my life.
“Should anyone ask,” Queen Nasrin said as she headed towards the town, letting Varn and Atalanta drag our things with them. “I am a wealthy merchant, here to discuss business with Reis Jones.”
