Dragonoak: Gall and Wormwood, page 51
“Oi oi. If it ain’t the sleepmancer,” Reis said, helping theirself to a chair. Tossing their cane onto the empty seat opposite them, they began rubbing at the wooden joint pressed against their thigh. “Your Majesty.”
“Captain Jones,” Claire replied, just as facetiously.
“Here’s a question for ya: if two Felheimish nobles royally fuck up, abandon their kids in the process and before all that, and you end up as a Queen, then what title do I get?”
Reis raised their brow, half-challenging. It wasn’t the way I would’ve broached the subject, but I had neither been a pirate for thirty years or discovered that my long-lost sibling was a Queen.
“Well,” Claire said. “Alex is Prince by virtue of our shared parentage, and you would come into matters by way of my ordinance. I believe that technically you are still a Liege, though there are a great number of debts that go with that title. Your Barony is better left unclaimed. Rylan has all but forfeited his right to call himself a Prince. There is an opening there.”
“Right. ‘cause that’s how it works,” Reis said, arms spread over the back of their seat. “Anyway, never mind that. I ain’t here for some mushy reunion, if I ever did meet you before. You must’ve been what? six months old? when I left for Canth.”
“Indeed. I was around that age when I was adopted.”
Reis looked thoughtful for a brief second but soon returned to business.
“So,” they said. Claire looked ready to roll her eye. “What’s it gonna be?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t had time to—”
“You’ve given it plenty of thought,” Reis said. “Don’t give me none of that. You keeping that dead weight or what?”
Claire said nothing and did her best not to press a hand to her twisted knee.
“C’mon. Look at this,” Reis said, pulling the leg of their trousers up to reveal their carved leg. “Ain’t bad, right? I’ll make you one just like it. Can put in phoenixes and all, if your mate ever forgives you. Can even make it out of dragon-bone.”
Ignoring the remark about Haru-Taiki, Claire said, “Dragon-bone? Would that be wise?”
“Well, I ain't gonna get it from some dragon you've slaughtered. The dragons, they let the dragon-born use their bones when they need 'em. Reckon Kouris could make a gift of it to you.”
Again, Claire said nothing.
“There. You're thinking about it, ain't ya?”
Sighing, Claire shook her head. It was as close to a yes as Reis was going to get from her. I watched the way they held themselves around each other, the way they interacted, and thought it strange that two people born to the same parents, in the same building, had taken such different paths in life: one as a Knight and another as a pirate. Yet they both worked to protect their people, both leaders in their own right; they both commanded respect, though one was more feared than the other.
And despite everything, despite their differing paths half a world away from one another, they had both ended up in that very room.
“I'm going to talk to your mother,” I said, showing myself out. It'd be easier for them to talk of amputation without me hovering around.
Beyond our chambers, it was a different castle. People had always stared at me, nobles plainly and servants from the corner of their eye, but now that familiar roughness was back in it. People stopped in their tracks. No one thought to block my path. I was no longer gawked at because I was a farmer. No one in the castle remembered such an insignificant fact.
They stared because I was a necromancer. It was no longer a mere rumour. They stared because they didn't know how to process it, or indeed the fact that I'd been chosen regardless by their Queen. I was on their side. All must have heard of the way I'd raised the slaughtered amongst our forces. It was difficult for them to comprehend that I was there as a life-giver, and that I was not a blight on anyone.
I did what I could to ignore the way people stopped in their tracks. I missed being so wonderfully oblivious short minutes before, with no one but Claire at my side. I knew there would be retribution for this, that objections would be raised both inside and out of Claire's council, but winning the battle had given me a grace period. Everyone was too relieved at not having been invaded or killed to push the matter today.
I didn't dawdle, with so many eyes on me. I headed straight to Aren's chambers.
Laus had headed to work straight after comforting Ash. They were stationed with a guard I didn't recognise outside of Aren's chambers. Laus' eyes flashed at the sight of me and though they shifted their weight from one foot to another, they were more relieved to see me safe than they were concerned about me being a necromancer.
“Laus. Hi,” I said. It was easy to put off seeing Aren, now that I was there. “Were you with the army yesterday?”
They shook their head.
“I wasn't. I could've gone. Maybe I should've, but...” They glanced at their partner, a little ashamed. “Ash said I should stay behind. That it'd be safer, and... and I'm no soldier, so...”
“You're doing important work here,” I said, gesturing towards the doors.
Laus thanked me for saying so. I explained that Aren was expecting me, and Laus saw no reason to question my authority. Their partner didn't look my way but he didn't try to stop me, either.
I knocked.
Short moments later Aren called for me to enter.
Her chambers were bigger than mine and Claire's. Grander, too. They were the product of decades of labour, of a lifetime's work. These were the royal chambers, at the heart of the castle, and I didn't question why we hadn't moved into them. For all I'd seen of castles and palaces, these were dizzyingly extravagant; it reminded me of the cabin of Gavern's ship, with all his golden trinkets and cut jewels on display in glass cabinets.
Aren sat at a table, immaculately dressed. She must've still had her maid, for how well presented her hair was, and she eyed me over the edge of the teacup she was drinking from. It was as though I was some inconvenience to her. I almost believed that her social obligations were as time-consuming as they had once been.
“What do you want?” I asked, when she neither said anything nor rose to her feet.
“You forget yourself,” she said, chiding me. “Sit.”
“I'm fine here,” I said, but had to fight off the urge to clasp my hands behind my back and stand straight, as if to attention.
“Suit yourself,” she said, and continued to sip her tea.
I didn't back away from her gaze. She was not Katja. She was not Yin Zhou. She held no power here, had no sway over me.
“What do you want?” I repeated.
“For you to leave.”
I was expecting it, but I tensed regardless.
“I'm not leaving.”
“I still have money. Garland and I were always very careful with accounts. Take as much as you please,” Aren said, as though wealth had ever been my objective. “There is more than enough for you and your family to live out the rest of your lives wherever you please. I understand that the Canthians will be leaving, sooner or later. Go with them.”
“I'm not leaving.”
“Do you care for my daughter?” Aren asked, quick to change her approach.
“Yes,” I said stiffly. “I love her.”
“If you... love her, then leave. I had the decency to use necromancers in secrecy, in the background, and look what I have been reduced to. How do you imagine Claire will fare, once the entire continent knows that she openly used a necromancer on the front lines of a battle? Do you want history to remember her as the Queen who used necromancy to win her wars, as though Myros was not enough of a warning to us?”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Stay calm. Stay calm. I had dealt with so many things far more terrible than this woman's cutting words.
“I'm not leaving.”
I would keep saying it until Aren gave up.
This was my home and I wasn't being driven out of it. They would have to take the castle apart stone-by-stone and move it elsewhere.
“Look. Rowan, isn't it?” she asked. I said nothing. She knew exactly who I was. “I am not suggesting that Claire does not hold some manner of sincere affection for you, but I know my daughter better than you do. You are too close to this and blinded by what you think you feel. And why would you not be? She is a Queen. But Claire is—she is flighty. Even Eden could only anchor her feelings for a handful of years. Think of the position she is in; think of how she looks, and how she must feel about herself. She does not believe that she could do better, and that is not fair on either of you.”
So that was it. Claire was with me because she was ashamed of her own skin. I didn't need Aren to point out the latter to me. I knew exactly how she felt about herself. I had seen her drunk, hands trembling as she clutched the knife I kept on me at all times, aching to carve off her burns. I’d seen the light drain from her face amid a rare moment of happiness, when she remembered what she'd become. And despite that, in spite of the way every last part of her life had changed, Claire had let me close. She'd let me see all that made her feel worthless and she'd let me hold her.
“Look. I know that you're bored. I probably would be too, locked up like this! But that's your own fault,” I said, backing towards the door. “I live with Claire. I live with her and I'm not leaving the castle. And that's not any of your business. It stopped having anything to do with you when you did what you did to deserve to end up in here.”
I opened the door. Aren called my name as I went, so full of spite that there was no way she had not ground it between unpleasant thoughts for nights on end. I slammed the door behind myself and Laus jumped on the spot.
“E-everything okay?” they asked, fingers tightening around their spear.
“Yeah,” I said. Now that Aren was no longer baiting me, was no longer there to see my reaction, I could let myself feel the weight of her words. I had to absorb them, process them, before I could dismiss them entirely.
I slouched against the door. The Mansels made their way up the stairs and dealing with them was the absolute last thing I needed.
“Laus,” I yelped, voice far too high when I realised what I was seeing. “Everything is not okay.”
They'd been with Rylan. They must have been. They weren't clad in dragon-bone armour, for that would've drawn far too much attention to them and they never would've reached Aren's chambers while gleaming, but their presence was enough of a weapon.
Amy sneered at the sight of me.
“Sirs?” Laus asked, hand reaching for their sword, face saying they very much didn't want to draw it.
I let my hands and eyes blaze, hoping that would serve as warning enough.
“Nice trick,” Amy spat. “We've got one of our own now.”
“We're going in,” Emma announced.
Laus' partner drew his sword. I had thought him intent on ignoring me, but even if he couldn't abide the thought of a necromancer, he was loyal to his Queen.
“Don't try to stop them,” I said. “You can't beat one Knight, let alone two.”
Emma offered me a mock-bow of gratitude.
I had only one option. I didn't stand a chance of holding them back for more than a split second, and so I trusted that Laus and their partner wouldn't try to put up a fight. I rushed off without hesitation, darted between them, and almost tripped down the stairs for the way Amy shoved me.
“Fuck's sake,” she muttered, glaring down at me.
“Let her go,” Emma said. “It's not like we have much time.”
I was gone. I tore down the corridors, drawing far more attention than usual, uncertain who to seek out. Akela? Kouris? No, no: she was in the mountains. Kidira. Kidira would know what to do.
I skidded around a corner and the world stopped. The castle walls took a great, deep breath and held it, before exhaling. Everything was thunder and destruction: the walls swelled and exploded inward, outward, filling the corridors with rubble and smoke. A high, sickly buzzing swarmed my ears.
I was too far from the blast to be injured in a way that mattered. I was thrown back, smoke filling my lungs. Reaching out, my hands fought for purchase against the portion of the wall still standing, and I pulled myself onto shaking legs. People around me were running blindly, trying to escape something that had already happened. I was put at an eerie distance from the moment, for I could not hear anyone's screams.
Hand on my head, I pushed off the wall. Kidira. Find Kidira. Find Akela, Ash, Varn. Reis. Anyone.
The castle rumbled around me. More explosions, far off. The Mansels. The Mansels, they'd—
I couldn't think, I could barely see. My eyes were burning, tears streaming from them, and death twisted in the air, suffocating what was left of my other senses.
Gunpowder. Gunpowder. They'd blown their way through the wall.
Stumbling, I put my hand on the shoulder of a soldier who'd rushed out amongst the commotion.
Turning around, they removed their golden helm and familiar eyes shone blue. As the world twisted and warped around me and the aftermath of the explosion rang in my ears and cut through my core, Katja smiled at me, only too happy to see me.
PART IV
CHAPTER XXIX
Katja’s dented armour had been scoured clean. Felheim’s royal emblems were affixed to the metal and a green cloak hung from her shoulders. Had she not removed her mask, I would’ve had no reason to look at her twice. No one would’ve questioned her presence, but she chose to reveal herself to me. My stomach lurched. I told myself it meant nothing.
Something other than luck had led me to her. Bells sounded from every tower in the castle and I wondered what would be the greater feat of strength: standing my ground or running from her.
“Rowan!” she said, reaching for my shoulders. I stepped back but couldn’t take my eyes off hers. Her hands hovered uncertainly in the space between us, desperate to pull something back. “My mother and Akela are here, aren’t they? And Uncle, too? After what happened on the battlefield, it had to be him leading the charge. He’s alive, isn’t he?”
Her voice rang in my ears like the aftermath of a thundering blow, and my heart ached because she wanted answers. Needed them. Real feeling rang in her voice, a barely-there wound threatening to tear back open.
She was there. Katja was there, with me. For all the times I had closed my eyes and been unable to shake the image of her, towering over me, she was finally there. Guards pushed past us, charging into the thickening smoke as it drifted through the castle with a mind and intent of its own, but I couldn’t raise my voice.
I couldn’t betray her. Couldn’t draw attention to her.
“How?” I asked in a defeated whisper. “How did you get here?”
“I should think that’s obvious enough, dear,” Katja said. She was too hurried to go to any real lengths to mock me, but her voice regained its edge. She reached for my wrists, this time. “The castle will be ours soon, but first—”
“No,” I hissed. I wrapped my fingers around her steel-plated wrists before she could grab me. “Guards!”
Either I betrayed her in calling out or I betrayed myself in staying silent, but I couldn’t let Rylan take the castle. I clung tightly to her, refusing to let her steal all we’d worked so hard for.
The guards were overwhelmed. I wasn’t the only one shouting for them. They were doing all they could to calm the castle residents when they themselves had no reason not to panic, and some were dragging the injured from the smoke. The corridor behind us had been reduced to a sea of stone, and when I called out for a second time, Katja tore her wrist free and leant in close.
She knew how to stop me in my tracks. How to silence me. Her eyes flashed. With her breath hot on my face, I couldn’t do a thing to stop her from turning and disappearing into the smoke.
“Guards! You need to—” I said to a man hurrying down the corridor, but he shoved me out of the way before I could finish speaking.
Not a guard, then. One of Rylan’s men.
“Are you alright?” another guard, a loyal woman, asked. Her eyes followed the man who’d pushed me as he headed into the smoke, just as confused by what had happened as we all were. “Oh. You’re…”
The guard offered me an awkward salute amidst the panic, brow furrowed. One day those in the castle would figure out how to compose themselves around me, but I wasn’t holding my breath. Everyone was on the verge of tentatively breaking out into panic, and I was the only one with the faintest idea what had torn through the castle. I was suddenly fumbling with a weighty, unwanted authority between my trembling hands.
I managed to draw a small crowd.
“This wasn’t an accident. One of Rylan’s lieutenants, she’s… she’s here. In the castle. Which means that Rylan and the rest of his army can’t be far behind, if they aren’t already here. We need to get everyone out into the open, before there are any more explosions,” I said. “Is Cl—is the Queen still in her chambers?”
Nobody had an answer for me.
“I’ll head there myself. But keep an eye out for her.”
“I’ll send words to the barracks,” the guard said. “And report to Commander Ayad.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Tell everyone you can. Tell them to get out of the castle. The further away they are from buildings the safer they’ll be. And don’t trust anyone you don’t recognise, even if they are wearing Felheimish armour.”
I hoped I’d said the right things. Those who’d listened spread throughout the castle, assuming they were the closest thing to clear orders they were going to get. I blocked people’s paths as they filtered out of their chambers, wanting to know what the ruckus was about, and told them to run. I was so wide-eyed and breathless that nobody thought to ask why.
Had I not stopped to spread word that the castle needed to be evacuated, I would’ve been caught in the next blast. Even on the outskirts, the air rushed out of the corridor and struck my chest with crushing force. With smoke in my eyes and my heart trying to escape my chest, I stumbled out of the smoke and coughed up thick phlegm. The chime of a bell rang through my head, unending.
