Kingsbane

by Claire Legrand

  Avoiding them, Eliana joined Patrik silently, watching him work as the sharp sea wind cooled her cheeks. Five minutes passed before he acknowledged her presence.

  “Yes?”

  “We’ll help you get your refugees to Karlaine,” she replied.

  “Excellent. I suppose I won’t kill you, then. At least not tonight.”

  She bit back a sharp retort, then held out Zahra’s box for him to see. “I’m hoping you’ll know what this is.”

  He glanced over. “And if I do?”

  “Don’t be an ass, Patrik.”

  “You’re in no position to order me around, Dread.”

  “Please.” She inhaled slowly, deciding to take the risk. “My friend is trapped inside it. Her name is Zahra. She’s a wraith—an angel who has decided not to take a human body. She’s a Red Crown sympathizer and helped me and Navi escape Fidelia.” She paused. “You know them, I assume.”

  Patrik had stopped cleaning his knives. “I had hoped those whispers were only rumors.”

  “You were foolish to hope for anything good. Fidelia abducted me and Navi from Camille’s safe house in Sanctuary. Without Zahra, I’m not sure Simon could have gotten us out. And now she’s trapped in here.” She blinked back tears, blaming them on the wind. “I can’t open it. I don’t know if she’s dead. I don’t know if she can die.”

  She glanced down at her hands, Harkan’s too-large gloves concealing her castings. “I don’t know anything,” she said quietly, and then held her breath, waiting for Patrik to exclaim, in shock and confusion, what she meant when she spoke of angels and wraiths and other such Old World nonsense.

  But instead, Patrik was still for a moment, and then rose to his feet. “Come. You’ll want to see this.”

  • • •

  In one of the smaller holds of the Streganna, guarded by a woman and a man, both armed with rifles, both of whom nodded and moved aside when they saw Patrik approaching, a beast lay chained to the floor.

  And it was alive.

  Eliana stood at the door’s threshold for a full five seconds before she managed to recover herself and step inside. “What is it?”

  Patrik closed the door behind them, leaving them in near-darkness. The only light came from the small gas lamp he carried. “The angels call them cruciata.”

  She looked at him closely, unsure how to determine what, exactly, he knew.

  He saw her expression and rolled his eyes. “Do you think you’re the only one to know the truth about the Empire? Granted, I try to keep the truth from as many people as possible, as a kindness. And I didn’t believe it myself until Simon convinced me when we first met…what, three years ago now? But, yes, I know that the old stories are true and that angels walk among us.”

  He picked his way across the room, stepping over the beast’s slender tail. Its six legs splayed out on either side of its black, scaled body; its long, chapped tongue unfurled from its mouth like a tired flag.

  “This one’s called a viper,” he said. “See how its body is long and thin, like a serpent’s? Vulnerable spots are here, under its chin, and here.” He pointed. “Where its back legs meet its belly. Besides that, their hides are nearly as tough as stone. Very hard to kill. But I’d rather face one of these any day than a raptor. At least vipers can’t fly.”

  Eliana crouched, slow and wary. She stared at the creature’s clouded yellow eye. Its thin pupil shifted slowly, watching her.

  “Where did it come from?”

  Patrik raised his eyebrow. “Well, that’s the wild part. I’ll tell you what Simon told me. That’s how we met, actually. He saved me from a viper attack. It was a little one, only half the size of this one. But big enough. Most of them are across the ocean on the eastern continent. They came through the Gate. But every now and then, one of them makes it over here. They’re clever. Hard to catch. Soon, I imagine, they’ll be everywhere.”

  “They came through the Gate.” A shiver tapped merrily down her spine. “They’re from the Deep?”

  A sad smile softened Patrik’s face. “Hob would do a better job of telling the story. He’s like your Remy, you know. Fascinated with these stories, with the Old World, with all the legends I’d long thought were nonsense. But it turns out the world is just as outrageous as those stories say it is.”

  “So I’ve discovered,” Eliana said hollowly, forcing her thoughts thin and slippery so they could not fix on the memory of Remy.

  Patrik glanced up at her. “Simon told me that when the angels were in the Deep, they tried to find a way out, and in doing so, they tore a hole between the Deep and the world beyond it.”

  Eliana nodded. “Zahra mentioned the idea of other worlds to me.”

  “He had a name for it. I can’t remember.” Patrik frowned for a moment. Then his face brightened. “Hosterah. That was its name. The world of the cruciata.”

  “So when the angels came through the Gate…”

  “They brought some of these beasts with them,” Patrik finished grimly. “Simon told me the angels are doing everything they can to shove them back into the Deep, keep them from flooding through and overrunning our world. But that seems to be a difficult task, even for them.”

  Eliana rose, backing away from the beast. Its legs and torso were attached to the planked floor with chains so heavy they had dug deep furrows into its flesh, but she still didn’t relish the idea of being near it.

  “What does any of this have to do with Zahra’s box?” she asked.

  “See that?” Patrik pointed at the nearest chain. “Cruciata blood.”

  Eliana inched closer and, squinting, saw that the chain was indeed wet—but not with any blood that she had seen before. Instead of red, it was a deep, rich blue, like the eastern sky at sundown.

  “There’s a particular weapon you can forge, using cruciata blood,” Patrik said. “It’s called a blightblade, and it’s lethal to angels. Well, not lethal, exactly, but if an angel is stabbed with one, the angel will get sucked up into the blade and will stay there, trapped, leaving the human body they were inhabiting empty and useless.”

  Eliana thought quickly. “There must be a huge market for this. People who forge blightblades, sell them to rebel factions. Angels, trying to buy them up so they’re hard to find.”

  Patrik nodded. “And they’re hard to forge too. Very tricky process, and only a few ingenious fools have managed to perfect the process. One’s in Meridian, a nasty old man named Rufian. Woman who caught this one”—he nodded at the viper—“is a friend of mine. And by ‘friend’ I mean a woman I got marvelously drunk with in Vintervok two days before I met Harkan. She’s mad. She hunts these things and sells them to the highest bidder.”

  “And this?” Eliana withdrew Zahra’s box from her pocket. In the dim lamplight, the metal gleamed its strange copper, each plate layered with violet-and-blue waves so deep it looked possible to dive into the metal and sink forever.

  “To be honest, I’ve never seen anything like that structure,” Patrik admitted. “A box instead of a blade. But the metal it’s made of… Simon had a blightblade once, and I’ll never forget the look of the blade. That bizarre copper color, always shifting and iridescent. Like a bird’s wing gone liquid.” He nodded at the box in her palm. “It looked just like that.”

  Eliana went very still. “But when I asked Simon about this, he seemed as ignorant as I was. He told me nothing about it. He acted as though he’d never seen such a thing.”

  “Well, then,” Patrik said after a moment. “I don’t know why, but Simon lied.”

  25

  Rielle

  “I know you’re still in Kirvaya, but my head is full of anxious storms, and writing you helps quiet them. Ingrid brought home a dead beast, Audric. That’s at least part of what’s been slaughtering our soldiers in the east—and yours as well, I suspect. It is a beast unlike any I’ve ever seen, made of m
elded parts. Tiger and bear and bird. And even, I think, dragon. I know, it sounds ludicrous, and Ingrid thinks I’m a fool for entertaining the idea. But its hindquarters are scaled. Tough and spiked, lightly furred. Do you think angels could be controlling these creatures? And how were such beasts created in the first place? We have many questions and no answers. Meanwhile, the attacks continue. Every two weeks, one of my outposts is sacked in the night, the bones of its soldiers left scattered, the snow at its gates painted red.”

  —A letter written by King Ilmaire Lysleva to Prince Audric Courverie, dated December 27, Year 998 of the Second Age

  Faced with Ludivine’s quietly furious gaze and Audric’s desolate one, Rielle at first could not speak.

  She stood awkwardly, rigid, unsure whether it would be best to proceed as if nothing had happened—as though she hadn’t in fact recently been kissing Corien, as though her skin wasn’t still tingling, awakened by his touch—or if she should instead go on the offensive, though she didn’t feel as if she had much ground to stand on, depending on what Audric knew.

  She drew a breath and managed only to say, “Oh. Hello.”

  Audric’s gaze fell to the shield in her hands. Already, the heat of the hearth fire was melting the layer of ice and snow encrusting the metal. Water dripped onto the carpet beside Rielle’s boots.

  “Is that Marzana’s shield?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes,” she answered at once.

  “Where did you get it? And how?”

  She wanted to look away from him. If she didn’t hide her eyes, he would sniff out her deception. But she forced herself to meet his gaze and decided to provide him a version of the truth.

  An altered, merciful one.

  “Corien spoke to me tonight,” she answered. “He told me to come find him, that he would give me Marzana’s casting. That the Obex would insist upon testing me for weeks to determine my worth before granting me the shield. That would be a waste of time, he said, and insulting. And I agree with him on that point.”

  “So you went to him,” Audric said. “And he did indeed give you the shield.”

  “Clearly,” she said before she could stop herself.

  Audric’s dark gaze flicked sharply up to hers. “Don’t snap at me, Rielle. I’m not the one at fault here.”

  “At fault?” She set down the shield, left it leaning against the wall. “How, exactly, am I at fault?”

  What did you tell him, Lu?

  I told him you’d gone to meet Corien, Ludivine replied, and that you were on your way back.

  Did you tell him that we kissed?

  No. And I hope you don’t. It will only hurt him.

  Rielle swallowed. Does he suspect?

  No. Ludivine’s voice softened. He isn’t angry because he thinks you kissed Corien. He’s angry because you put yourself in danger.

  “You told me,” said Audric, “you promised me, that if we were to do this thing, if we were to pursue Corien and uncover his intentions, we would do it together. You promised me no secrets and no lies.”

  “I didn’t lie,” Rielle said quietly. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t honestly expect me to believe that.”

  “Is it so hard to believe that I would have considered your comfort before all else?”

  Audric scoffed and rose to his feet. “Rielle, what’s the real reason you left me here while you snuck out into the night to meet our enemy on your own?”

  She hesitated, unsure which truth to twist, which lies to speak.

  Careful, said Ludivine.

  Damn you, Lu, don’t tell me to be careful. This is your fault. You didn’t have to wake him.

  I did, Ludivine replied calmly, if only because maybe doing so will make you think twice next time about giving in to Corien and striking out on your own, just as he asks you to.

  It was my choice to go to him. I wanted the shield, and he was ready to give it to me.

  You wanted the shield, Ludivine agreed, and you wanted to see him. You wanted to touch him.

  A sharp, tingling heat rose behind Rielle’s eyes. And what if I did?

  “I left you here because I’m ashamed, Audric, and embarrassed,” she burst out, so vehemently ignoring Ludivine that her temples ached from the effort. “Do you know how terrible it is, how uncomfortable, to lie there every night beside you while he whispers in my head? How dirty it makes me feel, how unworthy of you?”

  Audric’s expression softened. “You could never be unworthy of me.”

  “I could not imagine taking you with me to meet him,” she continued. “He would have said terrible things to you. He might have tried to hurt you. He might have forced himself on me and made you watch. Alone, I can defend myself against him. But with you there, I would have been distracted. He could have used you to get at me. It was unsafe to bring you.”

  The more she talked, the more easily the lies fell from her lips. She began to convince even herself. Of course she had left Audric behind to protect him. It was the logical thing to have done.

  “My duty, as Sun Queen, is to serve and protect my country,” she said, moving toward him. “And you are my country. You are its heir, its future king.” She touched his face, the slight shadow of his beard. “Yes, it would have embarrassed me for you to have seen how much he wants me, for you to hear the things he would have said to hurt you. But more than that, I could not put you in that sort of danger. Even if I didn’t love you, as the Sun Queen, it would have betrayed everything I stand for.”

  “But didn’t it occur to you that it wasn’t safe even for you?” Audric said after a moment. “Didn’t you wonder why Lu wasn’t there to stop you? He kept her in the dark. She didn’t even know you were gone until you were on your way back, shield in hand.” He shook his head, stepping back from her touch. “I know it is difficult for you to resist him. I know what he offers you.”

  Rielle stiffened. “Do you?”

  “Yes.” He glanced at Ludivine. “Freedom. No rules or cloying traditions, no obligations to church or crown. These are things I cannot offer you, though I wish I could.” He looked away, his mouth twisting. “I hate that in your mind I am associated with that which binds you.”

  “Whatever Ludivine thinks she knows,” Rielle said icily, “whatever she’s been telling you, I am happy to serve my country. I glory in it, in fact. And I’m insulted that either of you would think otherwise.”

  “Yes, I know you glory in it. That’s not the problem.”

  “What is the problem, then?”

  “You have a duty to protect your country, yes, but you are too important to act recklessly. Just because you are powerful doesn’t mean you can put yourself in unnecessary danger.”

  “Unnecessary!” She flung her hand at the shield. “I did what we came here to do, didn’t I? I stood up before all those simpering people, and smiled, and performed for them just as they wanted. Just as you wanted.”

  Audric glared at her. “Diplomacy often requires us to humble ourselves.”

  “Yes, it must have been very difficult for you to stand there and accept congratulations for how prettily I presented myself to the Kirvayan court.”

  “My God, Rielle,” Ludivine said. “Do you really think so little of him? Anyone who approached with congratulations for him instead of you, he promptly and passionately corrected.”

  Rielle flushed hot-cold. “Well. I still think I had to humble myself in that hall far more than anyone else had to. And now I’m being punished for it.”

  “You’re not being punished,” Audric said, “and if you were, it wouldn’t be for that. It would be for running off into a blizzard alone.”

  Rielle bit her tongue. Any reply she could think of reflected poorly on herself, and the exasperated, frustrated look on Audric’s face was not one she enjoyed seeing directed at herself
. Tears filled her eyes; if she spoke, they would fall.

  With a sigh, Audric returned to the bed, roughing his curls with one hand.

  For a moment, the room was silent. Then, once she had gathered herself, Rielle said venomously, “Are you happy, Lu, now that you’ve engineered this lovely little scene?”

  “No, I’m not happy,” Ludivine replied. “I’m furious with you, and I’m terrified of how easily Corien can slip between us, how he can disguise your movements from me and deceive your guard. If you had any sense in your head, you would be terrified too.”

  Rielle threw up her hands. “And yet here I stand, neither seduced nor slaughtered. Yes, it’s difficult to resist him. Yes, he is relentless. But I, too, am relentless. My will surpasses his own. And the fact that neither of you trust me in this, after everything we’ve endured together, is outrageous.”

  You’re treading on dangerously thin ice, Rielle, said Ludivine. The image of you throwing yourself into Corien’s arms is fresh in my mind, and my willingness to lie for you goes only so far.

  You mean so far as it suits your whims and needs. Rielle viciously shoved her reply at Ludivine. When it becomes useful for Audric to know how his father died, will you tell him, regardless of what happens to me?

  Ludivine’s horror was a quiet, wounded hollowness. You know I would never do that.

  Rielle turned from the feeling, shutting away the part of her mind in which Ludivine lived.

  “You wanted me to do this,” she said, approaching Audric once more. “You wanted me to be an operative. To allow him to speak to me, to let him move freely in me and talk to him and try to find out information. His intentions, his movements.” She knelt before Audric, gathered his hands in her own. “Isn’t that right?”

  He regarded her thoughtfully. “And did you discover any such information? Do you know more than you did before you left me for him?”