Hemmet’s sword drops to the ground, and then he’s on his knees, reaching for Aodren’s helmet. After he yanks it off and tosses it to the side, I can see Aodren’s wide eyes, and the sight of his frantic movement hits me like arrows of fiery panic.
He cannot breathe! Realization whips through me that this isn’t because the air has been knocked out of him.
Someone has created a vacuum, drawing Aodren’s air.
My gaze ricochets in every direction in search of the Channeler and lands on Astoria, not even a dozen paces away, her hands subtly turned toward the field. The world grinds to a halt and at the same time spirals out of control. Astoria is the woman who taught me how to pull air from someone. I see her concentration and know with dizzying certainty what she’s doing. A voice in my head screams, This cannot be true, so emphatically, so shrilly, I wince.
“No!” I shout.
And then my feet are moving, I’m running, shoving people out of my way, and slamming into Astoria, knocking her to the ground. She yelps and gapes up at me, eyes wide with guilt and at the same time wounded.
I scramble to my feet and look to the field, to Aodren. It’s as if every particle in me once belonged to him and is now vying to return. I want to rush to his side. The only thing that keeps me in place is knowing Astoria didn’t have enough time to completely suffocate him.
He’ll be fine.
“What. Have. You. Done?” I look down at her.
Astoria presses herself up into a seated position and gasps. Her face crumples in pain, and her body shudders. Instinct has me reaching for her. When our palms connect, the warmth of her touch is dulled by the wind and rain and deception. But still, because of our history and who she is to me, I hold her quivering hand in mine and hate myself for doing it.
Her head sweeps side to side in a listless movement. “He was going to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” I try to sound harsh, and yet, even though I know she has done something unforgivable, it hurts me to see her this way. Tears start to leak down her papery cheeks, mixing with the steady flow of rain, and my emotions almost spill over too. Astoria, who helped my father raise me from when I was a baby, tried to kill Aodren.
And then I think of Da’s sadness, his plea for me to stop looking into Sanguine. I had already suspected Astoria’s participation. But, to my own shame, I put more blame on my da, not wanting to believe Astoria would use her magic to cause so much harm.
“Tell me.” I lurch forward and grasp her arm, yanking up her sleeve. Black veins twist over her age-spotted skin. A sign of dark magic.
I know the truth now, but I need to hear it from her.
“He overheard me talking. He knows I made the imposter Sanguine.”
“Why, Astoria? How could you do such a thing?”
“I wanted to teach them to fear us. They’ve abused us for so long, Lirra. And now they want us back. They want our magic. So I gave them a terrible taste of our power. I showed them how dangerous it could be. Malam took everything from me.” Her body trembles. “Just like they took everything from you. I wanted them to know that they are right to fear us.”
The venom she spits shouldn’t surprise me. All along, Astoria has been outspoken about her hatred for the Malamians who persecuted Channelers.
“Men have died,” I cry, trying to get a hold on what enrages me most.
“Not as many as our sister Channelers. Do not feel sympathy for them,” Astoria says, her voice turning more bitter. “They got what they deserved.”
My limbs shake so violently with fury and remorse that her hand falls from mine. “And Da? How was he involved?”
“It didn’t take him long to uncover my secrets once the bloody king of Malam sent him hunting. So I pretended I’d made the oil by accident. I sent your father to gather it up for me.” She grits her teeth and shivers from the falling rain. She looks like a wild beast. “Your father deserved to be sent on a wild goose chase. He should never have agreed to work for that murdering bastard.”
“Don’t call him that,” I say. “Aodren is a good man.”
Da rushes over and crouches down beside me and Astoria. Shame at the realization that I’ve just given Astoria patience and love in light of her obvious betrayal and yet couldn’t spare Da anything more than an angry word overwhelms me.
“Da, I’m sorry, so sorry.” He pulls me into his arms. “I should never have doubted you.”
Da strokes my hair and pats my back. “No, it is I who haven’t been here for you.”
The movement of people behind us catches my attention. Seeva, Katallia, and Judge Auberdeen approach us. Judge Soma follows behind them with an uneasy look on his face. I jolt at the sight of him, but my father stands beside me, keeping his arms around my shoulders, lending his support. Support I’m not sure I even deserve.
I am not the only one who realizes Aodren was targeted by a wind Channeler. Judge Auberdeen demands an explanation.
Da recounts the day, months ago, that the king of Malam hired him to look into Sanguine. It didn’t take him long to find his way back to Astoria. She convinced him that she’d created an oil, hoping it would have the benefits of the real Sanguine. But to her dismay, the oil harmed the giftless. He didn’t know she was lying. He didn’t realize that she wanted him out of the way so she could keep making the oil and giving it to Judge Soma to distribute. After all the abuse and pain, Astoria was certain Malam wanted to enslave and abuse Channelers for their power. Rage for every Channeler that had been killed fueled her.
Da spent two months tracking down each trader that sold the Sanguine. He bought batches of the imposter oil, only to discover more had flooded the market.
“I didn’t know it could kill people,” Judge Soma interrupts, eager to clear his name.
“A liar till the end.” Astoria looks at him and sneers. “You’re no better than any Malamian. I warned you of the consequences, but as soon as you saw that you could make money, you started shipping the oil as quickly as I could make it. And then you gave it to your fighters. I warned you it would kill them.” Astoria slowly rises to her feet with the help of my aunt Katallia.
The chief judge turns to Soma and Astoria. The rain is light now, only a drop here and there. “What I’ve heard tonight and the information given to me by Millner is enough to have you executed.”
Soma starts to deny the claims, but Judge Auberdeen silences him by beckoning the guards forward. “Seize them, and have them put in the holding cell.”
I look to the far side where Aodren now stands beside Leif. Since the crowd was unaware of what happened off the field with Astoria and Judge Soma, they accepted the match as being over. The announcer declared Hemmet the winner of the bout, and the crowd’s mixed reception to the news fills the night. A horn blares, signaling the end of the matches. Absorbed in Astoria’s revelations, I had forgotten that the world around me did not stand still.
The yells of the spectators fall silent, and the announcer takes a minute to tally up the points earned. A collective breath is held as people wait to find out who will take home the sword fight banner.
“And the winner of the sword fight is . . . Akaria.”
Stomping and cheering thunder through the crowd. The champions shake hands, and the two women warriors stride to the center of the field to accept the crowd’s approval. I watch them out of the corner of my eye, but mostly my focus remains on Aodren. Leif leans over to him, and moves his fingers as if counting and then a disappointed frown cuts a deep line between Aodren’s brows. I wonder what they’re talking about.
My answer comes right away, when the official tournament horns are blown and two men carry the emerald-encrusted gold cup to the field.
“The tournament has been a great show of strength and skill,” the announcer says, recounting moments of the melee, the joust, and tonight’s sword fight. One at a time he calls forward each competitor, congratulating them on a job well done. My hope soars for Aodren as applause rings out when he steps forward.
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“Now, let us announce the team that rose above the rest. The winning champions of the All Kingdoms’ Cup are Akaria’s woman warriors.”
Everyone around the field surges to their feet, and applause fills the air as the two women walk forward to accept the cup. My eyes are on Aodren. He is gracious and kind to clap for them, his applause boisterous and genuine. Only those who know him well would see his lingering disappointment, and I want to go to him and say something that will bring back his smile. But after the secrets I’ve kept and the horrible way I treated him today . . .
“You want to go to him,” Da says, always good at reading my thoughts. Besides Orli and Aodren, no one knows me better. “Did you think I missed the way you called him Aodren earlier?” He smiles. “I’ve never heard you refer to him as anything other than the bloody king of Malam before.”
I do want to go to Aodren. But first I have to fix a wrong. “I’m sorry for not believing you. Everything I said wasn’t fair. I love you, Da. I was angry with you for being gone and not including me. I took it to mean that you didn’t rely on me. It hurts that you withheld inforrmation from me. But I can accept that you can manage your business how you want. I should’ve been patient and waited for you to tell me the truth when the time was right.”
I feel the weight of his arm around my shoulders. “I love you too, Lirra. But if we’re here to shed our lies, you need to be honest as well. I have spent too many days away from my family. I keep trying to save the world to save you. When, really, I’m losing you. I’m losing my family. I didn’t need you to prove that you could manage that dangerous task. I knew you could. I just wanted to keep you safe and protected. And that’s wrong of me. Because the more I try to keep you safe, the more I end up hurting you.”
“But I want to help you. It’s because of me that you had to give up your entire life in Malam.”
He shakes his head. “No, it is because of me that your life was changed. You don’t have to prove yourself to me. Lirra, you are one of the best parts of my life. You owe me nothing. If anything, I want you to take this time for you. What would make me happy is to see you live the life you’ve dreamed of.”
I try to talk, but a soft sob comes out.
“I want you to know I’m here for you, so you have freedom and time to create your wings.”
I’ve resisted allowing myself to really think about this for so long.
Before I can say anything more, Da nudges me forward. “Go on,” he says, because he knows I cannot keep myself out of it. “Go brave one more storm tonight.”
Chapter
37
Aodren
THE CROWD SETTLES BACK IN THEIR SEATS OR where they stand around the field, and a different sort of anticipation grows for the next event. It is the grand finale of the jubilee, but also of the entire summit.
While it is disappointing that we lost the cup by a narrow margin, I can accept that it went to the best team. There is much we can learn from the dedication Akarian warriors give to learning their skill. For that matter, there is much we can learn from Akaria and the way the kingdom prizes its Channelers.
Thinking of Channelers in my own kingdom sends me into a bleak state. But it must be done. First and foremost, I must always be concerned for my people’s safety. I had hoped to turn the tide in Malam and awaken my people to openness when it comes to those who are different from them. But it has been an uphill battle, one only made worse by the spread of the terrible oil.
It galls me to have only Astoria’s name to give Seeva as I leave Leif’s side and stride to the center of the field. The operation seems too big for the older woman to run on her own.
Seeva comes from the opposite direction. We meet in the center, and I tell her what I overheard beside the Channeler carriages.
“I know,” she whispers.
She does? When did she find out? And how? I would ask, but the announcer approaches us and holds a cone for Seeva to talk through so her voice will be amplified. She spreads her arms wide. “Welcome to the final event of our great summit, the jubilee grand finale!”
If I thought the spectators were loud before, it is nothing compared to the thunderous boom that shakes the ground I’m standing on. I have never seen so genuine a smile on Seeva’s face. She explains the power of Channelers, and how their gifts enrich our world but should never be taken for granted or misused.
“Recently, we have heard word of a Channeler remedy that is being sold in our kingdoms called Sanguine. This oil, however, is not the same miraculous healing oil from Akaria that is also called Sanguine.” Her blunt truthfulness takes me off-guard. A gasp rolls around the field as Seeva explains the difference between the Akarian Sanguine and the new, fake Sanguine. Disapproval sounds like a low thunder.
Someone cries, “The Channeler oil killed our champion!”
More shouts follow.
The crowd shifts with uneasiness, like a beast rearing up to bellow. It isn’t Seeva’s responsibility to face them alone. I should be the one talking about Sanguine to my people.
My insides are made of Segrande’s rocks.
“Let me finish,” I tell Seeva, sick with how Malamians may take the rest of the news, and yet knowing it must be done. Seeva gives me a surprised look, and then steps away. There are few times I have felt this alone against the world. Suddenly the weight of my words carries them down so deep inside me, it’s almost impossible to find them.
“If you will allow me to address my fellow Malamians. What Seeva has spoken is true.” I confirm her findings on the two oils and then explain the truth of Baltroit’s death. “He fell victim to the oil because he didn’t know the grave consequences. But use of this oil can result in death.” Murmurs grow louder and louder, and the very shaky hold I have over the crowd is moments from being lost.
“But we have arrested the people responsible for this oil,” Seeva says, and my jaw unhinges so quickly, I almost look at the ground to see if it’s there.
Seeva catches my eye and nods. “We have detained Judge Soma and Astoria Jarom of Celize for their roles in creating and supplying oil for the trade that has caused harm to citizens of Malam and Shaerdan.” Her declaration unleashes a torrent of gasps and chatter. No one seems to believe what has been said, least of all me. And at the same time, a thrill of relief goes through me.
Only, it doesn’t seem as though people are pleased with the explanation. The animosity grows. In the wall of angry people, there are some who stand out. Their actions are different from the crowd’s.
A mother rocking her babe, a father with his small son sitting atop his shoulders, a little girl waving a Malamian flag. I hold to those sights and remind myself that these are my people. This news cannot divide them.
All you need to be is a voice. Lirra’s advice comes back to me, and I clutch it like a lifeline. Be the voice that starts the change. It must begin somewhere.
“I have told you this news so you will be aware. Whoever is supplying this oil has no regard and no respect for Channeler magic and Channeler culture. Whoever is supplying this oil does not value life, whether Channeler or giftless. All of us are important. All of us deserve a place to live where we can feel a part of the community, where we can raise our families in safety, and we can learn and celebrate the differences in others.” My voice cracks from shouting.
The world seems to pause.
“We are a nation that has been divided, torn apart by our past,” I say. “But it doesn’t have to define us. I plead for unity in Malam, between all the people who live there. Our differences are what make us strong and valuable and important. We can be strong together, and face the future as a united people.”
I wait, as silence falls over the faces across from me.
To my left, Seeva clutches her robes, and the sight rattles me, because I know everything depends on this moment, this speech. If I cannot convince the Guild that Malam is changing for the better, it will be that much harder to convince Channelers to return to Malam. It will be
that much harder to move on from the past.
Start a storm.“I ask you now, who of you will stand up with me? Who will set aside the past and stand up for unity in Malam?”
“I will.”
The small voice at my rear startles me. I turn around.
“Lirra?”
She grins. Her smile nearly knocks me off my feet. Then she edges to the cone and shouts, “I am Lirra Barrett, daughter of Millner Barrett. Some of you know him as the Archtraitor of Malam.” Gasps spread. “Nearly eighteen years ago, my mother was killed after my father publicly spoke out against the Purge. Since that terrible time, my father and I have been living in Shaerdan. But I stand before you now and announce myself as a supporter of Malam. I have talked with King Aodren. He is a good man who has a vision for a better future. He cares about each citizen, giftless or Channeler. I pledge now to stand with him. Tonight, I will stand for Malam at the jubilee.”
The reactions vary throughout the crowd, but they’re silenced when Leif ambles to my side, his steps stiff from tonight’s fight.
“I will stand with King Aodren, and I will stand for Malam.”
Next comes Lord Segrande.
And from there, one by one, Malamians stand in the crowd. Emotion blazes in my eyes and shakes me to my core as I look out to an entire tournament field of people on their feet. At the south side, I spot Lirra’s friend Orli. She waves, and shouts her allegiance along with hundreds of other voices, all pledging to stand united with me and with Malam.
Chapter
38
Lirra
I CAN SEE AODREN WANTS TO TALK, BUT I GIVE his hand one quick squeeze and rush off the field to prepare for the jubilee finale. We have so many things to say to each other, but they will have to wait a little longer. The announcer takes back the amplifying cone and calls out the performances of the grand finale. It is the perfect ending for the crowds that have flocked here tonight.
Seeva rushes around, assuring each woman from the five kingdoms that water Channelers will combine their efforts to hold back the rain from destroying any presentation that would be ruined otherwise. Aodren is escorted to the stand where Malam’s nobility sit, and I cannot help but notice with glee the many back pats he receives and hands he shakes. For a man who once thought no one truly saw him, now he holds the eyes of all five kingdoms.
Once a King Page 30
