by Jodi Meadows
A few people cheered.
“Let’s start with dancing and celebration. First thing tomorrow morning, we will face our problems: the Red Militia, the wraith, and the poverty our people have struggled under for so long. Tomorrow, we will begin the process of restoring Aecor.”
More cheers rose up, and I had to call over them: “Thank you! Now please dance.”
Tobiah walked me off the floor. “That was good.”
“No one actually likes speeches.” The music started up again, and everyone was talking and moving to take their positions. “They come for the gossip and food. And to show off their wealth. For me, it’s about the food.”
“Always food with you.”
“Live on the streets a few years and life will be about your next meal, too.” I hesitated when I saw the line of people near the chairs brought in for everyone with “Highness” or “Majesty” attached to their names. Flags were draped over the backs, and mine stood taller than the others, as though there might be confusion about who sat where.
“You’re doing a good job at the showing-off-your-wealth part.”
I frowned and slid the back of my hand along the edge of my cape. “I’m not even sure where these gowns are coming from.”
“You look like a queen.”
I forced a note of teasing into my voice. “And you look like a vigilante.”
He looked at me with complete seriousness. “If that’s what you want me to be.”
Every possible response caught in my chest. Yes? No? I wanted Tobiah to be himself, with or without the mask. But I couldn’t say that, not here, and not in front of all these people. Some conversations were best held in the dark.
I took my chair.
For an hour, we spoke to people, watched the dancing, and ate when food was brought our way. At last, people stopped creeping up to us with questions or requests, and I leaned on the arm of my chair, toward Tobiah.
“I wish I were in the city right now, as Black Knife.”
He let out a soft snort. “Do you remember the night of my engagement ball?”
I remembered Meredith and how stunning she’d been that evening. I remembered the way she’d looked up at Tobiah, her happiness shining through.
Tobiah didn’t comment on my sudden stillness. “Until I danced with you, all I could think about was Black Knife. And then you asked about him. Now I realize what a strange conversation that was. Me, knowing you as the nameless girl. You, knowing me from the One-Night War. Neither of us putting the final pieces together.”
“Nothing has ever been simple between us, has it?”
“I don’t think anything is simple. Ever.” He stood and offered me a hand. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“They’ll notice we’re gone.”
“We’ll be just a few minutes.”
I didn’t take his hand, but stood up and led him to a nearby office. When I turned on the gas lamp, the flare of light revealed only an old desk, a couple of bookcases, and a faded painting of a long-dead king. I closed the door behind us, even though James and Oscar were the only ones standing outside.
“I don’t remember Sandcliff Castle having so many gas lamps.” Tobiah strode to the window and stared out toward the bridge.
“Your uncle had them installed.”
“Ah.” He glanced over his shoulder. “How does it feel to take your throne at last?”
I leaned a hip on the desk and sighed. “I’d like to say important and monumental, but that wouldn’t be the truth.”
“Since when does lying stop you from saying something?” His tone was all teasing.
“Never,” I said. “But I will change. I want to be an honest and fair queen. I used to think my parents were.”
“Perhaps you judge them too harshly? Perhaps they were doing their best.”
“Perhaps.” I pulled myself straight. “But they didn’t even try to find an alternative way to provide the lowcity with clean water, or meet with the Wraith Alliance kingdoms. Perhaps they were doing the best they could, Tobiah, but I want to do better. I must do better.”
“I believe you will.” He faced me, his expression open and honest. “You have the advantage of empathy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Those who crave power tend to be too selfish to have the empathy they need to be good leaders. But you care about your people as individuals, not some teeming mass to be reclaimed and ruled. Even before all of this started, you loved your Ospreys. They were never expendable to you.”
No, they weren’t. Not like they were to Patrick, just faces with sets of skills, ready to be deployed at his convenience.
My throat was tight. “You can’t know how much it means for me to hear you say that.”
“I’m not just saying it, Wilhelmina. I believe it.” He walked toward me, his face shadowed as he turned from the light. “You will be a good queen, and I will gladly follow your lead now that I am a ward of Aecor.”
Oh. He was a ward of the kingdom. Just like everyone else who’d crossed the bridge, the Wraith Alliance allowed him to retain his titles, but none of the power unless I granted otherwise.
Tobiah was a ruler in name only, as I’d been just yesterday.
He studied my face, and though I hadn’t spoken or given any sort of reaction, he still read my thoughts in my eyes. “The Indigo Kingdom isn’t all gone. Not yet. But the valley is. That was the heart of the kingdom. The rest will fall until there’s nothing left. I can only hope that all my people find somewhere safe.”
“There’s nowhere safe,” I reminded him.
“But there’s still hope.”
“Optimistic Knife strikes again.”
“That menace.” He dared a smile, but it was quickly put out. “My uncle is missing. After the meeting this afternoon, I had him followed.”
“I remember.”
“Well, they lost him. And now no one can find him. Nor can they find his supporters, the men who were stationed here under him, and even some of the loyalists you freed when you arrived.” Tobiah leaned his weight on the desk, shoulders hunched and head bowed low. “It’s about five thousand people, total. Nothing we can’t defend against, but just the idea of my uncle marching through your city, tonight of all nights—”
“We can defend against it. Did you tell James? He’s in charge of castle security, though I suppose you’ll want him back.”
“James knows.” Tobiah closed his eyes, and his throat jumped. “He also told me about the Red Militia—your maid moving information between Patrick and the others, and this looming threat the Militia poses.”
“Tonight,” I whispered. “It will happen tonight. Patrick needs to make a statement.”
Tobiah bowed his head. “That’s why you didn’t want the coronation ball. What would you be doing instead, though?”
“Denying a pleasure to my friends and guests so that I could indulge in worry and paranoia.”
“Indeed. You already have police and military on duty. This is one of those times you need to let other people do their jobs, while you do yours. Right now, your job is to be the great queen people expect you to be.”
I didn’t feel like a great queen. Or a queen at all. Just a girl dressing up for yet another deception.
“After the wraith came though Skyvale, I felt so helpless. It made me think of you and the One-Night War, and the two of us watching my father’s army burn through your city. I couldn’t stop wondering if you felt the same hopelessness that night.”
“Yes.” I almost reached for his hand, but his face was dark and downcast.
“When I left Skyvale, I could have sent someone else for my mother in Hawes. I could have sent someone else to Two Rivers City.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line. “But I’d never seen either city before, let alone any of the small towns and villages between. I wanted to go because I needed a memory of my kingdom before the wraith covered it.”
“Are you glad you went?”
He opened his eyes and nodded. “The In
digo Kingdom is magnificent.”
“Yes, it is.” Easily, I could recall the rolling blue mountains, the Midvale Ridge, the glorious valley. It was a place I’d always denied was my home, but now that it was gone, I missed it. I didn’t blame Tobiah for taking the time to create one last memory. But . . . “Why didn’t you write back to me? Or James? What about the Ospreys? Did you lose the notebooks?”
“No,” he said. “We had them. We never let them out of our sight.”
“Then you know what you put us through.”
“I know.” Darkness passed over his eyes. “I had to make everyone believe I was dead. I traveled the Indigo Kingdom under disguise, revealing my identity to only those necessary.”
“Why?”
“The Wraith Alliance. I knew James would make the argument for your coronation as soon as my death was presumed. I hoped it would be sooner, but I suppose people don’t give up on kings easily.”
“You could have waited until you were here. The Wraith Alliance holds even when you’re alive.”
He smiled faintly. “My uncle would have argued that if I were alive, I would still rule Aecor Territory. I had to leave no room for that. Your claim had to be irrefutable.”
“Unfortunately, I think we’ve only angered him.” I didn’t like that he and his people were missing. Not at the same time large parts of the Red Militia were missing. Not tonight of all nights.
“I know.”
A thread of silence pulled tight between us.
“Wil, I wanted to talk to you about Mere—” Someone knocked on the door and Tobiah let out a breath of frustration. “Go away.”
James poked his head into the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but people are looking for you.”
“Wilhelmina and I are discussing important matters.”
The last thing I wanted to do was discuss Meredith. “It can wait.” I caught James’s eye and motioned for him to enter. “You two had an argument before James followed me here. It’s time to work that out.”
Both boys shot frowns. “Are you sure this is the time?” James asked.
“You almost never had the chance to work this out. Don’t waste more time.”
James faced Tobiah; the two weren’t mirror images, but could easily have been mistaken for brothers. Both were narrow faced and strong jawed, with piercing dark eyes. But where Tobiah stood with the lazy grace of disguise, James held himself tall and straight and just like a soldier. “I have to know something.”
“All right.”
James’s expression pinched, as if questioning his king were physically painful. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me, and that’s why you always put off investigating my healing.”
Tobiah’s expression flattened. “What do you mean?”
“I think you know.”
As curious as I was, this was starting to sound like something I shouldn’t witness. “I’ll leave.”
“No.” James’s eyes cut to me. “I’d like for you to stay.”
Oh. Great. I glanced at Tobiah, but his face was hard and revealed nothing. “All right.”
James squared his shoulders and seemed to gather his thoughts. “The night I got shot, after Wil created Chrysalis, I shouldn’t have lived. I know my wound was as bad as yours. But I healed on my own. Mysteriously. Miraculously.”
“It was a miracle.”
“Wil said you called her to wake me. Her power doesn’t work that way, though. It only awakens inanimate objects. But when she touched my hand—I awakened.”
Tobiah’s dark eyes darted toward me, like I’d promised to keep a secret and failed him.
“What’s wrong with me?” A pleading note touched James’s words, though he tried to hide it. “Why did you refuse to investigate?”
Tobiah’s hard expression cracked. “Oh, James. Can this wait for another time?”
“No.” I moved next to James. “He deserves to know.”
James shot me a grateful look. I just hoped the answers were worth it.
“All right.” Tobiah glanced at the desk, as though tempted to sink into the chair, but he remained standing. “I need a moment to figure out how to say this.”
That sounded ominous.
The desktop clock ticked, and people in the hallway laughed as they walked by. Tobiah let out a long breath. “Maybe we should start with you telling me how much you remember of our childhood.”
James shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about what I remember. I want answers.”
“Please. I’ll tell you everything. I just . . . want to know.”
“That doesn’t seem very fair,” I said. “James just wants to know, too.”
“It’s all right.” James sighed. “When we were nine, we got in trouble for swimming in the Saint Shumway fountain. Your idea, of course. And when we were ten—”
“What about before that? Before the One-Night War?”
“That’s hazier. But we were young.” James frowned, focusing inward. “I remember your seventh birthday party when Lord Roth gave you the pre-wraith spyglass, and we hung out the windows to get a good view of Indigo Order training. I fell and broke my leg. I vaguely remember lessons, before I went to the Academy. Hours and hours of tutors talking about history and mathematics. We were always sleepy from our sword training.”
“What about any memories without me?”
After a brief hesitation, James shook his head. “No. But we were together so much then. We always have been.”
“You’re right,” said Tobiah. “We have. But there were times you visited your mother’s holdings without me. Do you remember that at all? Before the One-Night War.”
“No. I just know I went there.”
Tobiah’s face was tight with discomfort. “You don’t remember because I wasn’t there. Because I couldn’t tell you what happened.”
James and I waited, and finally it came:
“I made the bridge earlier today.” Tobiah gestured at the window, a fluttering, fleeting motion. “And ten years ago, I made James.”
FORTY-ONE
“I CAN EXPLAIN.” Tobiah’s voice was rough.
“I hope so.” Muscles tightened around James’s jaw, and he never looked away from Tobiah. He hardly blinked. “Because right now it sounds like I’m a piece of a bridge. Something you can make appear and disappear.”
“No, that isn’t it at all.” He shoved his fingers through his hair, all the way to the back of his neck, which he massaged for a moment. “This isn’t the way I meant to tell you.”
“It sounds like you meant to never tell,” James said. “Saints, Tobiah. The wraith boy knew. He told me months ago that I wasn’t human, that I wasn’t what I claimed to be. The wraith boy told me the truth, but you’ve been hiding it for a decade.”
Silence.
“What am I?” James whispered.
“You’re my cousin. My best friend.” Tobiah sat on the edge of the desk and kept his voice soft. “That will never change.”
“Maybe you should start from the beginning.” I pulled out the desk chair and offered it to James. He stared at it for a heartbeat, like he might refuse, but then he collapsed into it. I rested a hand on his shoulder.
“I need to preface it by saying this was the worst point in my life. Even with everything that’s happened recently, this is the worst.” Tobiah slumped and stared at the ceiling. “The night I was abducted, James, you and I were spying on my father’s meeting with Aecorian diplomats, and a man in a red uniform caught us. General Lien.” He glanced at me, but there was nothing to say. I already knew General Lien had kidnapped Tobiah and brought him to Aecor to use as leverage.
“What then?” James asked.
“You knew something was wrong when we saw General Lien in the hall. You didn’t trust him, so you stayed in my room that night. To protect me.” Tobiah’s voice caught. “When the general came for me, you were there, armed with one of our wooden practice swords. It didn’t stop the general. He crashed into my room a
nd threw you aside. You were unconscious. I fought, but I was so worried about you I couldn’t defend myself.”
James sat straight and tall, eyes never leaving Tobiah.
“Other men came into the room, just two or three. The general said to take both of us so it would look like we’d run away or were playing a game. Our parents wouldn’t know we were missing until morning. I think there was some kind of explosion in Greenstone that night, something that distracted the Indigo Order and police. We were put in a wagon and taken from the city. I don’t remember much of that. Just that there weren’t many people with us. General Lien wanted to move quickly.”
A knock sounded on the door. We all paused and looked over, but no one moved until Oscar’s voice came, sending the person away.
“Once we were out of the city, General Lien bound us to a horse. We were gagged, but I could hear you breathing in my ear. You were still unconscious. We rode for hours like that, mostly at a gallop. The general wanted to be as far from Skyvale as possible before dawn.”
I barely breathed myself as I looked between the boys. James was ashen, his eyes wide and afraid.
Tobiah blinked away tears. “It wasn’t quite light out when I felt your body go slack. You’d stopped breathing.”
My skin prickled with a surge of horror. “No.”
James looked as though he was struggling to stay upright, and I squeezed his shoulder in a pale measure of support.
There was a pause, like we were all thinking about small James, hurt and kidnapped. And small Tobiah, unable to help his best friend.
“I started screaming around the gag.” Tobiah raked his fingers through his hair until it stood on end. “No one heard me over the horse hooves. There were birds chirping and everything was waking up—except for you. After an hour, maybe, they noticed us. We stopped and they took you off the horse. You were pale, bruised. But still limp. They said you were cold, except for the front where you’d been leaning against me. You didn’t have a pulse.”
Horror crawled over my skin.
“The general had his men throw your body over a cliff.”
I pressed my fists to my mouth, but I couldn’t look away from the boys, couldn’t stop listening as the story grew worse.
