Dragonoak: Gall and Wormwood, page 56
But I was too confident. I’d convinced myself that it’d be alright, in spite of the damage already done; I let myself think that I had some divine right to leave the dead waiting while I moved at my own pace.
Kidira stopped rummaging through the spears and splayed a hand against the wall, leaning forward. Had I not healed her minutes ago, I would’ve thought there was some wound twisting at her gut. Reis, Varn and Claire were busy making and abandoning plans in their ever-growing frustration, so I headed over to her.
“Are you okay?” I asked in a whisper.
I don’t know why I asked. I expected her to brush me off, to say that she was fine; more than that, I expected her to ignore me.
“No,” she eventually murmured.
“Kidira—”
“You don’t understand,” she hissed, but lowered her voice, lest anyone else overheard. “… You don’t understand.”
She was right. I didn’t understand, and so I waited.
“It was supposed to all be over,” she began. At first, I thought she meant that Rylan’s defeat ought to have been heralded by Atthis’ return, but it was not so. “I lived through my own war. Thirty-two years ago. I lost so much, suffered pain greater than a spear-head in my abdomen, but it was supposed to be worth it. Because the war was won. Kastelir was born. I was Queen and I had Kouris. It was supposed to be over. The rest of our lives were supposed to be peacefully dull, from that point on.
“But it was not so. It was no happy ending. It was not even an ending. Kouris, she… I spent my days thinking her dead. That twisted at my gut. But these past years, with Akela, I started to believe that there was hope in it again. That there was purpose. This was not supposed to happen. My story has already been told. This is not right. This is not fair. Akela, if they…”
“They won’t get her,” I promised.
It didn’t matter if they had already put her body upon a pyre and lost the ashes to the wind. I would find a way to bring her back. I would force a path into the Forest Within and drag her spirit back into this world.
“You do not know that,” Kidira said, still staring at the wall.
“I do. I’m going to find her and I’m going to save her. No matter what.”
Turning to me, she said, “If you do not, if she is lost to us, then none of this matters.”
It was the first selfish thing Kidira had ever said to me. My chest tightened with how real she finally was.
“Oi. Listen up,” Reis called across the armoury. “Any idea where they’re taking the bodies? Somewhere out in the open, I’m expecting.”
“The central courtyard,” Kidira confirmed.
“Right. Varn’s gonna go there with you. She’ll cut through an army, if you need her to. You can trust her.”
Varn scowled at the sound of her name.
“We’re going with Kidira to get Akela back,” I explained. “Make sure you’re ready.”
Varn could’ve stabbed someone out of excitement.
I might’ve been the only one equipped to bring Akela back but Kidira had no intention of waiting for me. Still, I stepped over to Claire before I rushed after her. I needed Claire to know that this wasn’t the end. That once we had Akela back, we could defeat anyone or anything. Rylan might’ve been in the castle, but in doing so he was giving us everything we needed to be rid of him for good.
If we won this battle, a shadow would no longer hang over Felheim. We’d be able to start over in earnest, safe on all sides.
I squeezed Claire’s hand, but before I could put my poorly-concealed fears into words, Kidira said, “Do not look so glum, Claire. This invasion is no reflection on you: a kitchen hand managed to murder a King of Kastelir and we had thirty years to prepare for that.”
Trying not to bristle at the mention of King Jonas, I kissed Claire’s cheek and murmured, “I love you and I’ll be back with Akela soon. You and Reis figure out the next step, okay?”
“I won’t let you down,” she said.
Kidira locked the gate behind us and threw the key through the irons bars to Reis. She marched up the stairs with the spear she’d taken from the armoury. The strength that flowed through her was mesmerising. Nothing in the way she strode forward suggested that she’d come close to a death of her own, and the glint in her eyes told all who would dare to glance her way that she refused to accept this loss.
Had it been possible for me to be in a situation like Akela’s, I would’ve wanted Kidira fighting for me.
Varn trailed behind with her swords drawn, acting the lookout. We weren’t far from the central courtyard. Only one of the main corridors separated us from it. It was usually teeming with traffic but today, the only thing that drifted down it was the smell of smoke and burning wood. I felt vulnerable for how wide and empty the corridor stood and was glad to be surrounded by Varn and Kidira.
“Halt!” a brave, foolish soul called from behind us.
Varn span around, ready to strike, but Kidira stopped her by calling her name.
The guard who’d rushed over stood unmoving, held in place by Varn’s blades inches from his throat.
He dropped his weapon to the ground and Varn stepped back with a disappointed huff.
“Thank goodness,” he said at the sight of Kidira. “They’ve taken more than half the castle. We’ve barely managed to gather a hundred guards over the last few hours.”
“You’ve a stronghold?” Kidira asked.
“We’ve holed up in the banquet hall,” the guard said. “Have you seen Her Majesty?”
“I’ve reason to believe she’s safe,” Kidira said, choosing her words carefully. There was nothing to suggest that the day’s backstabbing had come to an end. “Go. Gather all the guards you can. Civilians, if you have to. Mention seeing us to no one. Do you understand?”
“Yes! Yes, Sir,” the guard said, saluting. “We’ll take back as much of the castle as possible until the Queen joins us.”
“See that you do,” Kidira said as the guard left us, moving as quickly and silently through the halls as he could.
Rylan might’ve taken us by surprise but the castle was enormous, made up of entire wings I’d yet to stumble across. Plenty of the guards had been stationed there for years. They knew the lay of the land better than Rylan’s Agadians and former Kastelirians did. He wouldn’t have the upper hand for long.
“Keep low,” Kidira said as we approached the end of the corridor.
We were a level above the courtyard. The corridor opened onto a small balcony, overlooking the purposely overgrown area. The balcony ended in a low row of stone columns, engulfed by twisting ivy, allowing us to remain close but hidden.
The courtyard was huge. A pond that put smaller lakes to shame had been dug out on one side, and an island in the centre housed a flock of uneasy ducks. I pushed a few ivy leaves to the side and peered down at the dozens of soldiers gathered at the far end, standing guard over the pile of corpses they’d dragged through the corridors. A pyre had been built from whatever kindling they could get their hands on, and as each body was brought to the flames, soldiers used their swords and spears to cut back the overgrowth, ensuring the fire didn’t spread.
Screwing my eyes shut, I turned away, back plastered against a stone pillar. Varn and Kidira were doing the same either side of me, straining their ears to catch a word of what the soldiers by the pyre were saying. They were too far away for that; the only voices we heard came from below the balcony.
“You have been on edge all day,” Rylan said. “What is it?”
“Are you honestly asking that question?” Katja replied distantly. Eyes fixed on the pyre, no doubt. “In the last handful of hours we have invaded a castle and we are now burning the bodies of those who only wished to defend their home. Which part of this is supposed to relax me?”
“Not to mention that your mother is here, if reports are to be believed,” Rylan added.
Katja hummed, saying nothing of the way her face had been caved in again and again.
It was the first time Kidira had heard her daughter’s voice since learning of her betrayal. It weighed on her as heavily as the loss of Akela. She stared at the ground, determined to crack the stone with her gaze. When she didn’t move, I stole another glance through the ivy, fixing my eyes on the pile of bodies that was slowly being added to.
My stomach turned. I instinctively wanted to reach out to them. It wasn’t only the guards who’d been slaughtered: servants and nobles were there too, the people who’d stayed to fight and those who’d fled; some had been caught in the blasts, others had been run clean through. I curled my fingers towards my palms, forcing myself to stop.
Had the bodies risen to their feet, Rylan’s soldiers would’ve known I was there and slaughtered them for a second time.
Two soldiers took hold of another body to feed to the flames and I caught sight of Akela, buried beneath the others.
I never expected myself to be so relieved by the sight of her corpse.
“She’s still there,” I whispered to Kidira. “Akela’s still there.”
Coming back to herself, Kidira’s eyes darkened. I gave Varn a thumbs-up and she swore under her breath in relief.
“Where is your sister being held?” Katja idly asked.
If Rylan could remind Katja of her mother then she could bring up his family, as well.
“With the Mansels,” Rylan replied. “Alex and my mother are confined to his chambers. She, at least, is being remotely cooperative. She understands that this is all for Felheim.”
“Delightful company,” Katja said. “We may need their swords yet.”
Kidira and I risked another glance through the ivy. Sucking in a sharp breath that cut right through me, Kidira balled her hands into fists. I grabbed her arm, keeping her hidden. Relief was forgotten to us, any delusion that we’d got there on time shattered: Akela’s body had been dragged out by yet another pair of soldiers and was on its way to the pyre.
“We move now,” Kidira hissed. “We fight our way through.”
Varn looked to me for an explanation and I said, “They’re moving Akela’s body to the fire. We’ve got to get down there now.”
My heart scraped against my ribs and all the excitement Varn had been clinging to vanished. There was a seriousness to her that I hadn’t witnessed before and with a determined nod she crossed her arms and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her swords.
“I’ll make a distraction. I’ll cut my way through as many of ‘em as I can and you two get to Akela,” she said. “Just make sure you’re healing me as I go. Never taken on that many alone before.”
“Varn’s going to clear a path for us,” I told Kidira, and translated Varn’s plan as faithfully as I could.
Kidira nodded sharply at Varn, eyes hardening with respect. With Akela’s body seconds away from the flames, she placed a hand atop a column, ready to move.
I took a deep breath, hands already glowing, and from below, Katja said, “Wait!”
My heart jolted in my chest and she said, “Wait, wait!” louder.
I looked between the ivy. The soldiers holding Akela’s corpse stood motionless.
“Rylan, do you have any idea who that is?” she asked.
“I’m afraid I’m not acquainted with every soldier under my sister’s command,” he said, irritated by the abrupt delay.
“That’s Akela. Commander Akela, formerly of the Kastelirian army.”
Rylan scoffed.
“Don’t tell me you’re going soft. Pity for an old friend. Is that it?”
“Goodness me, absolutely not,” Katja said, managing a brisk laugh. “The good Commander only ever served to detract my mother’s attention from me all the further. Had she never wandered into Kastelir, I would’ve been a good deal happier. But dear me, that isn’t the point. This isn’t about me, or my upbringing. Regardless of what I may feel, I believe that burning her now would be a mistake.”
Arms aching, the soldiers dropped Akela’s body while they waited, as though it was some empty, meaningless thing.
“And what has led you to this conclusion?” Rylan asked, humouring her.
“Commander Ayad is a symbol of strength, of resistance. She is not only a friend of your dear sister, but she is of great importance to the Felheimish army and those from the Kastelirian rebellion. Burning her now would be a dreadful waste,” Katja explained. “You ought to make an example of her in front of those who were expecting her to save them. Wait until we are surrounded by something other than our own soldiers.”
Rylan grunted, considering it.
“Come now, Rylan. When has my council ever led you astray?” Katja asked, and when he did not reply, added, “Goodness, I should hate to brag, but our forces were not quite so unified before I suggested you start calling yourself King, were they? In the same way that simple act strengthened our people’s faith in you, this one shall break the Felheimish.”
It was enough for Rylan. With the slightest of nods from him, Katja had all the permission she needed to step forward and say, “That body isn’t to be placed upon the pyre. Take it to Lady Ightham’s chambers, that she might have a pleasant surprise upon returning. Ensure that someone is posted outside of the door at all times.”
Kidira and I sunk against the columns in relief. Varn kept her fingers around the hilts of her swords and only remained where she was because she’d seen Akela’s body fall to the ground. Kidira covered her face with a hand and I shook the light out of my fingertips.
“They’re taking Akela to Claire’s chambers,” I told Varn. “We’ll wait a few minutes, then get her.”
“The Queen’s chambers? Weird choice,” Varn murmured.
She thought no more of it, but she was right. Katja could’ve had Akela’s body locked away in a hidden chamber or surrounded by guards out in the open, but she’d chosen a room I knew inside-out.
She could sense me. She must’ve been able to. Light had flooded from my fingertips yet she hadn’t breathed a word of it to Rylan.
“Come,” Kidira said, once the excruciating minutes had clawed their way by.
The three of us kept close to the ground and headed back down the corridor. Getting to mine and Claire’s chambers meant taking a number of crowded walkways and that was to say nothing of the stairs leading up to it. Katja had ordered soldiers to keep guard and not even Varn could slice through all of them before they called for help. And what good would we be, if we were cornered?
“How good did you get at climbing while you were living in the mountains?” I asked Kidira.
She said nothing but followed in my wake.
We moved swiftly, heading out of the castle, and kept low, hidden by rows of hedges.
“Varn was really going to challenge all of those soldiers to give us a mere chance to reach Akela?” Kidira asked, belatedly puzzled.
I repeated the question to Varn, who said, “Well, yeah. Akela’s one of the few barely tolerable people in this godsforsaken country. I’d do a hell of a lot more than that for her, ‘cause, you know… Uh, not that I’m trying to be inappropriate or anything. It’s just that—I like Akela, alright? I ain’t some kind of unfeeling murder machine. I know when it’s worth saving my neck and when it’s worth putting it on the line for someone else. But don’t let Kidira go thinking there’s more to it than that.”
Varn held her arms out defensively in Kidira’s direction, bowing her head apologetically.
Translating it back, I added, “I think Varn’s scared of you because she likes Akela. Has anyone ever met her and not had a crush on her?”
Kidira hummed thoughtfully and turned her gaze back to Varn.
“She makes for a good sort of attack dog, I suppose,” she decided, and clapped a grateful hand on her shoulder.
Once we reached the curved wall my chambers were built into, Varn doubled back to ensure we hadn’t been followed. I rubbed the small of my back, finally able to stand up straight, and stared up at the wall.
“We’re to climb that?” Kidira asked, pressing her hands to the masonry.
The stones the castle was built from were half as tall as I was, and there were gaps enough to hook our fingers around. That didn’t stop it from being a sheer climb of some twenty feet, though.
“I ain’t a fucking monkey,” Varn said, arms folded across her chest.
“A what?” I found time to ask.
“A monkey. They live somewhere, I dunno, west of Canth. They’ve got massive jungles there. They’re always climbing trees and swinging along. Got these weird long arms like furry noodles or something. One time, my mum brought one back to Mahon on her ship. The poor bastard ended up drunk out of its—”
“Varn,” Kidira snapped, not needed to speak Canthian to know she wanted Varn to stop talking.
“Good thing I grew up climbing masts,” Varn said, holding her arms out in defeat.
Varn hoisted Kidira and me off the ground, hands on the small of our backs until we were more or less holding onto the wall. The moment I was an inch off the ground I realised I hated it, and I hated the plan. All my muscles threatened to lock up as I dug my fingers in and tried to press myself to the wall, and I found myself back on the road to Kyrindval for the first time.
Move. There was nothing for it but to move.
Up I went, aching, grunting, telling myself that it was all for Akela.
It was all for her.
I’d climb every mountain on Asar, if I had to.
I was so focused on the task at hand that the scent of death did not reach me. An odd fluttery feeling rose within me, and I put it down to having left my stomach on the ground.
I think I near enough whimpered when I reached the windowsill. I hooked an arm around and scrambled to pull myself up, toppling into my bedroom with a soft thud against the thick rug. Kidira had beat me by a matter of moments and was already standing tall. I leant out the window to offer a hand to Varn.
She didn’t need it but took it regardless.
Catching Kidira and Varn’s eye, I took light steps towards the door and pressed my ear to it. I waited for the sounds of soldiers talking amongst themselves to reach me, but instead, there was a short, cheerful burst of laughter and Akela said, “My friend, I am grateful for this. It is quite surprising to me, especially!”
