Dragonoak: Gall and Wormwood, page 67
“Oak and I are going to the territories to help those we can,” I said, happy to give my plans a voice. “And maybe one day, Agados will let me help them, too.”
Oak would’ve been there, had he been able to fit through the corridors. Dragons that weren’t senseless and vicious were enough for Felheim to have to get used to, and at the mention of a half-dead dragon who thought and acted as I did, people smiled politely and turned to their neighbours to slip into a different topic.
Kondo-Kana stopped lazing against Queen Nasrin’s shoulder and smiled at me. I beamed back at her, more grateful than I could express to be able to openly use my powers in a way that would help so many. I could deal with the inevitable resistance, so long as I kept that end in sight.
Dessert was served and I barely survived it. The dishes were cleared away and Alex assured us that the night was far from over. Like most of the guests, I could barely think after the amount I’d eaten, but when he gestured to the ballroom, I took Claire’s arm and made an effort to move.
The ballroom had been organised to emphasise that dancing was far from mandatory. Half of the hall was taken up by an assortment of chairs that people pulled into circles, eager to speak with those they hadn’t been seated near in the banquet hall. After all, the night was young, and plenty of people had yet to boast of how much money they’d donated to the Queen’s cause.
Haru-Taiki tucked himself against Claire’s side and I took a seat opposite her, watching the dancefloor as person after person came up to congratulate her on this or that, or tell her how splendidly the evening was progressing. Varn danced with Atalanta, finding little reason to scowl, until people came too close to them. Once Atalanta retired from the dancefloor, Akela took her place, and Varn only scampered back when she caught Kidira’s eye. Reis held their arms out to Varn and earnt a series of obscene hand gestures for their effort, but they were more than happy to dance with Eden instead.
Queen Nasrin was humouring the duke of some quiet part of Felheim as they practised their Canthian, and Sen and Michael were busing ensuring the pane who’d been invited were as comfortable as they could be. Atthis danced with Kidira and then my father, and did not change partners for a long time after that.
A woman twirled out of the crowd, drawing my attention back to Claire, and I recognised the fiddle she carried before her face.
“Your Majesty,” the bard from the Phoenix Festival said, bowing deeply. She caught my eye and grinned. “Your… what was it they called you? A thauma-something. A dated, dated term! And, if you don’t mind me saying, clearly something they found in a book and thought themselves smart for knowing. What’s wrong with the word necromancer?”
“No one likes using it,” I said. “I think you’re the first person whose name I don’t know who’s managed to say it.”
“A terrible shame,” the bard said, propping her fiddle against her shoulder.
“More limericks for us?” Claire asked, and did a poor job of concealing her smile.
“Only because you like them so, Your Majesty! How about this,” the bard began. “In the days of the necromancer Northwood,
We saw that those powers could be used for good,
Just as I play the strings with my bow,
Spinning tales of joy or sorrow,
We realise all from before was falsehood.”
The bard bowed a split second before Claire started clapping.
“That’s, um,” I said, sitting straighter in my seat. “That’s really nice, actually. Thank you.”
“Just a little something,” the bard assured me. “Or how about: A pirate came across the Wide Water,
Whose sister was our old King’s daughter,
They brought a—”
“Do you know everything?” Claire asked, unable to hold back a laugh.
“Everything I need to,” the bard said. “But, oh! Here they come. Farewell, Majesty, Necromancer Northwood.”
The bard disappeared as Reis gave up on dancing and flopped in the chair next to Claire. They draped their cane across their lap and waited for a servant to bring them a drink.
“Alright,” they said, tilting their head at the both of us. “You know, this is the first party I’ve ever attended where a single person ain’t got stabbed.”
“There are some things to be said for sobriety,” Claire said. “Though I’m certain some of the words being spoken behind my back are just as sharp.”
“Aye, I’d believe it. Reckon half the people who ain’t fans of yours are only doing it to keep themselves entertained, though. Her over there in the green dress, she’s a different matter,” Reis said, pointing into the crowd. “Have her letters intercepted, next time she gets a raven. Not that you heard anything from me.”
Claire took the advice seriously but was content to let the rest of the evening play out without interruption.
“So,” Reis said, using their cane to tap against Claire’s new leg. “How you finding it?”
“Strange,” Claire admitted. There was no need to guard her words around Reis. “Excruciating at times, if I am to be honest. But progress is being made, little by little. Walking becomes easier every day.”
“There’ll be ups and downs,” Reis assured her. “It’s been close to a decade and my leg still hurts like hell, sometimes. But the point is, I was just out there dancing. You’d have been too if you’d listened to me earlier. Glad you finally saw sense, though. Still, you’d be no sister of mine if you weren’t so bloody stubborn.”
“You were right,” Claire conceded. “I shall take your advice to heart from now on.”
“Just had your best interest in mind,” Reis said. “You’re gonna miss us.”
“Indeed I am,” Claire replied without hesitation. “I have become rather used to your presence, these last months. Queen Nasrin’s help has been invaluable, too. Canth truly is in the right hands.”
“Or it will be, when Yin Zhou gives it back,” Reis muttered.
Claire and Reis fell into easy conversation and I returned my attention to the dancefloor. Varn had stepped in as Reis’ replacement and Eden chatted away in what little Canthian she knew. Akela was carrying Halla on her back, and my brother was deep in conversation with the unfortunate soul who oversaw the castle’s main library. My father waved from the corner of the room where he was still talking to Atthis.
Halla eventually needed a break from Akela’s unfailing exuberance and found her way to Kondo-Kana’s side. Akela and Kidira danced together, and it may well have been the first time they could do so openly. All the balls they’d attended before were as Queen and Commander, and the fact that everyone knew there was more between them did not mean that they were exempt from keeping up certain appearances. But now they were on truly equal footing, both vital members of Claire’s castle.
As much as her thoughts were ever on the former Kastelir, Kidira knew it wasn’t her place to seize the throne, as she once had. She had to help from the outside.
I watched everyone move to and fro, all the people that meant the most to me gathered in one room, all of them meaning the world to each other. I didn’t want it to end. The thought of so many of them returning to Canth in a few short days threatened to turn a wonderful evening sour, but I soon realised there was no use in wishing it’d never end if I was only going to sit on the outskirts, watching.
I got up. I headed straight for Kouris, who was more than ready for me. We danced as we had years ago, during the first Phoenix Festival, and Akela took her place, followed by Atalanta and Eden. Haru-Taiki left Claire’s side to circle overhead, perching on chandeliers when he needed to rest. Varn told me I couldn’t dance for shit and took it upon herself to show me how they danced in the taverns of a land I’d never heard of, and when I finally left the dancefloor hours later, wonderfully exhausted, my father put an arm around me and kissed the top of my head.
Everyone was there and no matter what happened, I didn’t have to leave.
CHAPTER XXXVII
The worst of winter was behind us but the days were as short as the wind was bitter.
It grew warmer as we headed south, but not warm enough to please Varn. Oak’s shadow covered us as we reached the coastline, impatience rippling through him. The sea and the sky claimed the same shade of grey and a blustery wind skimmed off the waves, doing all it could to rip sails from masts and cloaks from shoulders.
The weather did little to stop the citizens of Ironash filling the streets, along with hundreds of people from nearby towns and villages. A royal procession was a rare enough sight, and two Queens visiting such a small port wasn’t the sort of thing that would ever happen again. People braved the elements and lined the streets winding down to the docks, pushed up on their tiptoes to catch a glimpse of their Queen.
Our caravan was a strange one. Nothing was out of place, from the carriage set aside for each Queen to the dozens of guards flanking us, save for the half-dead dragon leading the way.
Oak walked on his knuckles, ensuring the path was clear. People stared up at him in fear, some outright trembling with the urge to run back to their homes, yet children smiled up at him and clapped in delight. It was different for them. They wouldn’t grow up fearing dragons. They’d never have to think of them as anything but brilliant, beautiful creatures.
The docks had been cleared for us. The ship Queen Nasrin and her convoy had come from Canth in was ready to set sail, once Oak was harnessed to the bow. Our gifts to Canth were being loaded below deck. There were crates upon crates of bitterwillow, already prepared for use, but more importantly, there was the promise of more to come.
I’d travelled on horseback. Kravt had brought Charley down from Kyrindval for me and he’d done an admirable job keeping up with the other horses. I jumped to the ground, hurried to Claire’s carriage as it rolled to a stop, and opened the door before any guard could beat me to it. She took my hand as she stepped out, steadier on her new leg every day, and was greeted by a swell of cheering from the crowd. She spared a moment to wave at them and Kidira, Akela and Eden filtered out of the carriage behind her.
Kouris, having run much of the way, helped the Canthians out of their carriage.
Varn stood with her arms folded across her chest, doing nothing to help anyone. She sneered at the ground and scuffed the toe of her boots against loose rocks.
“Just as I was getting used to this godsforsaken place,” she muttered when we joined them.
Kondo-Kana stood pale-faced, cloak billowing in the wind. She tensed each time the waves broke against the shore, white eyes teetering on the edge of burning. I offered her my hands and she took them, drawing closer to me and away from the ocean.
“Remember what I told you. The silence won’t last forever,” I said, smiling. “The only reason you saw nothing was because Isjin knew you weren’t ready to leave Bosma. Not yet. It won’t always be like that.”
I'd told her time and time again that we saw nothing of the Forest Within because it wasn't supposed to be understood by those who still roamed the world of the living, but I didn't know if it did anything to soothe her. She'd had more than fifteen hundred years to convince herself that this life was the only one she'd ever live and my flash of understanding couldn't compete with that.
“Aejin. Rowan,” she said, placing a hand on my cheek. “If Nasrin's lands did not rest beyond the unreachable horizon, I would never leave Mesomia. But after all these years, I can only follow my heart. I will keep your words close to my chest as the waves rock our ship to and fro, to and fro.”
The thought of parting with any of them had been gnawing at my chest for weeks, but saying goodbye to Kondo-Kana felt like nothing short of severing something within myself; a part of me was being sent across the sea, out of reach.
“I'll see you again,” I said, reassuring us both. “I'll be over soon.”
“If it is months or years or decades or centuries, Aejin, I will not forget you,” she promised.
Next to us, Eden said her farewells to Reis.
“It's a terrible shame you have to leave already,” she said, sighing. “It feels as though you only got here yesterday.”
“Aye. Time flies when you've got armies marching against you and people invading your castle,” Reis grunted, but gave pause. “Still. Like I said, it ain't like Canth takes forever to get to. Especially not with Oak here.”
Not meaning to interrupt but unable to help herself, Claire stepped to the side and said, “We'll be sending representatives to Canth from time to time, as part of mine and Queen Nasrin's alliance. I believe you'd make a fitting candidate, Eden, should you wish to take on the role.”
“Oh!” Eden said, brightening. “Yes, I think I should like that. I'll have to start learning more Canthian, of course...”
“I can always translate for you until you're good enough,” Reis offered.
Eden rocked on the balls of her feet, daring to kiss them on the cheek.
Kouris and Reis said their goodbyes. As with the last time Kouris had left them behind, it was perfectly understated. She crouched down, Reis pulled on her horns, and Kouris patted their back hard enough to wind them.
“Be seeing you around,” Kouris said.
“Aye,” Reis agreed, moving to shake Claire's hand. “I'd say thanks for having me but it weren't exactly relaxing. Still, it weren't half bad to meet you. Next time I drag myself over, try having your Kingdom in order, aye?”
Claire bowed her head to hide a smile.
“I can only hope it meets the rigid standards of your pirate port,” she said.
“Heh. Sure,” Reis said, and gestured towards one of their bags. Kouris opened it and took out a hastily wrapped present that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. “Here ya go. Parting gift, from me and Kouris. Mostly me. My idea, my work.”
Reis shrugged as Kouris held it out to Claire. Everyone crowded around not to see what it was, for it was obviously a leg, but what Reis had carved into it. Reis had chosen dragon-bone as their medium of choice, and said, “Remember what I said, yeah? This stuff weren't taken by force. The dragons left it to be used, out on the mountainside. Reckon you'll do well wearing dragon-bone in a different way,” before anyone could grow uncomfortable.
Claire smoothed a hand over the intricately carved bone, finer than her armour had ever been. Phoenixes danced across the brilliant white, wings fanned out, feathers falling.
“Thank you,” she said, putting an arm around Reis. She pulled them into a loose embrace, dragon-bone between them, and Reis stood rigidly, neither returning nor rejecting the gesture.
“Don't go thinking it's a decoration, either,” they said firmly, when Claire stepped back. “If I hear from Eden that you ain't been wearing the bloody thing, I won't be happy. Took weeks, that did.”
“Trying it on is my highest priority,” Claire assured them.
Varn was still skulking in the periphery, made worse by Akela prodding her side.
“You needn't have accompanied us all the way to our ship,” Queen Nasrin said to Claire, but was grateful for the company regardless. “Still, this shipment of bitterwillow doesn't hurt. I daresay the people might welcome me back with open arms. Without daggers hidden behind their backs, at that.”
“Yin Zhou will be pleased,” Atalanta said.
“She'll also be pleased that you haven't found reason to assassinate me yet,” Queen Nasrin returned.
Atalanta stood straighter, pursed her lips together and saluted in an effort not to laugh. Queen Nasrin shook her head, unable to stop the corner of her mouth from curling into a smile, and I looked to Varn for some explanation. Varn who was far too busy shoving Akela away to notice me.
“It's the least Felheim can do for its allies,” Claire eventually said, having decided that some matters were best left to Canth to deal with alone. “I'm sorry to have kept you away for so very long.”
Queen Nasrin waved dismissively.
“Nonsense. I've got more work done here than I would've in Canth, despite any unfortunate interruptions. Without this debt weighing down upon us, my country can take great strides forward.”
Any chance of it being a memorable moment was ruined by Varn, who had taken to kicking Akela in the shins whenever she drew close.
“I do apologise for her,” Atalanta said with a long-suffering sigh. “Varn is utterly incapable of expressing herself if she can't put a sword through someone's chest.”
I shuffled closer than Akela had any luck doing and said, “I'll miss you too.”
Varn turned my way to shoot me a glare and with a helpful shove from Atalanta, ended up bundled in my arms. She clung on tightly, grumbled and swore under her breath, and I patted the back of her head.
“You ain't gonna stay here forever, yeah? This place is complete shit, Rowan. You can do better than this. Look how pasty you're getting! You look terrible,” she said.
I squeezed her and said, “Before you know it, you'll be complaining about me turning up at a bad time.”
Atalanta went around and shook everyone's hands, telling us what a marvellous adventure it had been, and Kidira deigned to nod politely at the group. Akela said her goodbyes with enough enthusiasm for half the Kingdom.
“My friends!” she said. “We are not doing the thing where we are promising that we are seeing each other soon, and then we are forgetting each other's names!”
She hoisted everyone off the ground and kissed their cheeks, Queen Nasrin included, and belatedly bowed to her.
Varn grumbled, punched her shoulder, and when Akela raised a challenging eyebrow, she grabbed her shoulders and kissed her, long and hard.
“You're more than welcome in Canth whenever you please, Rowan,” Queen Nasrin assured me, ignoring everyone else's nonsense. “That goes for all of you, naturally, but our temples are ever in need of a necromancer who doesn't sleep half their life away. It would mean a lot to me and the country to see you there. Halla, too, when she's ready.”
