“I’m up, I’m up,” he said in a dazed manner.
Worried, I set a hand on his forehead. No fever. He wasn’t ill. But how had he recovered so quickly?
“Thank you for the energy you’ve lent me, Sersha,” he said gravely and at my puzzled look he amended, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I thought you’d given that to me intentionally, but was it an accident?”
I nodded.
“Oh. Oh dear. Well, if you want to avoid giving me energy when I’m recovering, don’t touch my bare skin. My ropes will draw whatever they can from you until I awaken.”
That sounded awfully handy. For him. But then again, I had been holding his hand while he slept – taking an intimacy he hadn’t realized he was offering so it was only reasonable that he had taken something in return.
“Are we flying again?”
Tell him to keep it down, Kazmerev murmured.
I tapped Judicus’s shoulder and put a finger to my lips.
“Oh, sweet land and seas, that’s not another ship, is it?” Judicus whispered.
I pulled a face and nodded.
The first of the phoenixes was descending. Utterbexen – the smoky one.
“When we reach land again, I would like to request that no one drag me onto any more ships for the foreseeable future,” he moaned.
Which I thought was reasonable to request after the last time.
Utterbexen landed and then with a puff he was gone, leaving his rider on the deck. What in the ... was he hurt?
There isn’t room for him on the deck. He’s retreated to his manifestor’s heart, Kazmerev explained.
They could do that? Shock shot through me. That didn’t seem kind. He was a living thing. He shouldn’t be imprisoned. Not in someone’s heart or anywhere else.
Kazmerev said nothing but I could almost feel his agreement in the air between us.
Quiet, children, the high-strung voice said again.
I was really starting not to like that phoenix.
The light gold phoenix descended and landed sharply on the deck, vanishing just like the other had. I shook my head.
Nope. I wasn’t happy with that. Kazmerev had better not descend on me like that.
To my surprise, it was Gundt who descended next. Huxabrand landed sharply on the deck, but unlike the others, she waited for Gundt to dismount and then shot back up into the air to circle over the ship.
What terrible manners! The phoenix I didn’t like said. Well, down you go, Kazmerev. And try not to act like you were born yesterday.
I was born only hours ago.
I could almost feel the other phoenix’s eye roll. I definitely heard Huxabrand’s disguised snicker.
Yes, that’s very literal of you.
But despite her cranky words, we were descending. And no, I didn’t like this. I didn’t want to go down there. Maybe we should just stay in the air.
And do what? Wait until I die, and you fall into the sea?
“Wait. Oh, no, wait. I don’t like this,” Judicus voiced my worries aloud. “That banner is Captain Rackham’s!”
But we were already falling from the sky toward the deck.
“No. No. I really don’t recommend –”
Our feet hit the deck and I tumbled off of Kazmerev awkwardly with Judicus right behind. Kazmerev’s great dark eye winked at me and then he shot back up into the sky.
I felt bereft without him. And utterly vulnerable even though Gundt moved to shield me almost immediately.
We were standing on the wooden planking of a ship, the deck rolling and heaving under our feet in a way that made me ill and must be utterly devastating to Judicus. I could smell the sea and the left-over burnt smell of phoenixes and I wished it was just the fire and sulfur that I smelled and none of the sea because I was so sick of the ocean and the disasters we kept falling into on its dark, heaving breast.
“I wish I was still unconscious,” Judicus said thickly.
In front of us, arrayed in a curving line, were six men in long green coats which were embroidered heavily with gold. They wore cylindrical hats like Dalissa and curved swords were strapped at the waist while a long, carved staff was held by each of them.
There was a door set in the deck between them and as Dalissa landed beside us, the door opened, and a grim-looking man in the same bottle-green uniform ducked on his way out of it.
“Captain Rackham will see you now,” he said in a deep, pitiless voice. And it sounded more like a death sentence than an invitation.
I felt Judicus flinch beside me. What would make him flinch? I’d watched him face down so many enemies without blinking an eye, but a meeting worried him that much?
I bit my lip as Dalissa Fenwen led the way through the hatch, the other two phoenix riders closing in behind us as if to show that if we didn’t follow, we’d be made to follow.
Don’t worry, little hawk. I’m right here. And I will burn that ship to cinders – Grand Hadri or no Grand Hadri – if you are put in danger.
It was a comforting thought.
Chapter Four
Though the ship was large, even large ships don’t have large cabins. This one was packed with people and one end of it was filled with a low desk. Behind the desk, a man sat, leaning so far over the desk that I almost thought his body might be absorbing it. He was a hulking brute of a man – so dominant, so powerful, that in his presence I barely noticed the guards clustered to either side of him or the ornate scrollwork in the wooden paneling and around the circular window behind his back.
Small alcoves held treasures and icons, and someone had gone to the trouble of setting a thick woven rug in front of the desk. Its crimson and purple wool shocked the eyes but also suggested that the owner thought nothing too grand was enough.
The Flame Riders who had brought us made dramatic bows and quickly moved to the sides of the low-ceilinged cabin and to my surprise, the captain flicked his fingers in annoyance.
“Is this the court of Briccatore that I must endure constant formality?”
I was horrified when his eyes settled on me. They narrowed speculatively.
Perhaps I ought to bow? But he wasn’t my sovereign. Or did women curtsy? Dalissa had not curtseyed and Judicus did not bow, though Gundt made a cursory attempt at one.
“I’m a ship’s captain, not a Lord,” the captain said with a twinkle in his eye as if he took pleasure in pretending he was a captain while everyone else knew he was a king.
I didn’t like games like that. This was a situation where Mally would be more comfortable. She probably would have winked.
“There are rumors that a young woman is shaking up the north, bringing raiders to our shores, and snatching people away in the night. Is this the girl?” he asked, eyes still fixed on me and behind their glittering brightness, there was masked violence.
He thought I was Lady Lightland.
“Nothing could be further from the truth ... Captain,” Gundt said, adopting the story they were playing at.
“Oh, indeed,” the captain said, with a smirk. “Is that your story, illegitimate son of the Lady Lightland?”
I felt my brow crinkling.
“The first Lady Lightland,” Judicus whispered to me. “The mother, not the sister.”
That’s why the others kept insulting him, then. As if a man could help his birth! We did nothing to bring ourselves into this world and had no say in who our babyhoods were entrusted to.
My story,” Gundt said with a twist to his lips, “such as it is, involves House Lightland – but it involves my half-sister, not this Fledgling.”
He gestured at me but didn’t turn to look at me and once again I felt like he was trying to protect me by offering himself up instead.
The Grand Hadri smiled at that and I didn’t like the light in his eyes or the way they seemed to sparkle the most when he thought he was unsettling us. I straightened my back and made sure he didn’t see me slouch. I’d never bend to people like this.
Do not bend.
But h
ow did Flame Riders follow someone so clearly unhinged when they were supposedly good?
Even the good can be deceived and persuaded by clever words and tangled-up motives.
I shivered and then froze when the Grand Hadri’s eyes landed on me again.
“So, just a trainee. And yet she does not speak for herself.”
Why did it always come to that? Were words so essential that no one would ever trust me unless they heard my voice?
Fools, all of them.
“She is voiceless. She does not use her voice to turn the tides of man or sail them into the teeth of war,” Judicus said quietly. “Unlike some I could name.”
Someone gasped – I didn’t know who – and everyone else seemed to freeze as if the entire cabin had been suddenly coated in ice.
The Grand Hadri’s face went from the pleasure of a cat toying with a mouse to frigid anger.
“I know that voice,” he said in what was almost a growl. “It’s the voice of one who has been granted so much mercy it must strain the patience of even God himself.”
Judicus said nothing but he seemed to stand even taller as Gundt stepped to the side and out of the way of this duel of wills and gazes between Judicus and the Grand Hadri.
“Is that you, Judicus Franzer Irault? Oldest son of the Mad Lord of the Dead? Heir of the Seed of Chaos?”
“I go where I must,” Judicus said quietly.
“And where did you go in the north, I wonder?” the Grand Hadri asked. “Were you traveling with this girl? Are you perhaps the voice behind the voiceless stirring up my enemies? Reports tell me there are raiders that reach their icy fingers miles into lands I’ve claimed as my own.”
“What ship’s captain lays claim to lands?” Judicus asked with one eyebrow raised ironically. “What simple sailor calls me his enemy? I know of none.”
If we were frozen before, we were like rock now – unable to even move.
The Grand Hadri stared at Judicus for so long that I wondered if he was frozen, too.
And then he barked a laugh.
“Never let it be said that my enemies are dull or slow,” he said. “Let it be said instead that they are mighty and swift and still I am better than all of them.”
“If we’ve given up the mummery that you’re a ship’s captain,” Judicus said – and I was shocked that he was still treating the Grand Hadri like an equal even now that he wasn’t pretending. “Then I should confess I was coming to see you ... uncle.”
Chapter Five
“I’m touched,” the Grand Hadri said, placing a hand on his heart.
I shivered. In any thoughts I’d had of kings or emperors, they had always been remote, distant rulers who passed down wise judgment or gave powerful orders but who sat apart from the people, clothed in dignity and grace. What I’d never envisioned was this – a massive, seething man whose passions whirled him around and whose eyes were more scheming and weighing than those of a peddler at his last stop in the north.
“My brother’s only son is coming to me after all these years. And here, I already have your sister in my courts. She plays a lovely viol, did you know this?”
“I knew it.” Judicus’ face flushed hot, and I saw his hands were trembling. What about his sister playing the viol made him so angry?
“I had a mind to find her a husband. She’s of the right age,” the Grand Hadri said casually. But there was nothing like casualness about this conversation.
“And if she prefers not to marry?” Judicus asked.
The Grand Hadri’s smile returned. “A dynastic marriage for my niece would be useful to me. But perhaps there is a service her brother could do for me instead. Hmm?”
Beside me, Judicus stiffened, but Gundt seemed to relax a little as if finally knowing what this ruler wanted made him less tense.
“But first,” the Grand Hadri said, “tell me why you were coming to visit me, Judicus Franzer Irault. It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that you’re traveling with a cult member and a voiceless girl, does it?”
Judicus cleared his throat, and I took the moment of the pause to look furtively around us. The guards remained impassive, but the Flame Riders were interesting. The worried glances they exchanged told me this conversation was not what they expected – and maybe not something they liked.
See? They are still good, Kazmerev said. They may simply not realize that throwing their loyalty in with us is the best thing they can do.
Huxabrand laughed. She must be staying close with Kazmerev. You are the most arrogant phoenix I have ever met, Kazmerev Bright Flame.
I ignored the pair of them. I had to focus on what Judicus would say here.
“Did you know that a stone army rose up out of the sea only hours ago and nearly marched across your kingdom?” Judicus asked quietly.
“Are they still a threat to me?”
“I dispatched them.”
“How altruistic. In that case, no, I care not. I do, however, care to have my question answered. Who are these people traveling with you?”
“They are my coterie,” Judicus said, claiming us both.
“Oh, are they now,” the Grand Hadri said, raising an eyebrow. He made a curt gesture with one hand and one of the guards took a decanter and goblet from a side table and brought them to him. “No one may raise a coterie without my permission.”
“Unless they are raising one to seek the ai’sletta,” Judicus countered.
The Grand Hadri barked a laugh, nearly spilling the drink he was pouring for himself.
“Indeed, nephew. But that comes with a timeline, does it not? A timeline of one year. And what will you do if you have not found her in the year?” Every time he spoke, I liked him less. “No one has found the ai’sletta in generations.”
I shifted my weight nervously. I didn’t like them talking about the ai’sletta. I didn’t like the idea that this ruler might hear my cousin’s name. I didn’t trust him.
“That’s what I was coming to tell you,” Judicus said mildly. “We found her.”
I clenched my jaw. Great. Now he knew.
“And where is she?” the Grand Hadri asked, his disbelief apparent.
Gundt cleared his throat, shifting his weight.
“You have something to add, Greensleeve?” the Grand Hadri asked.
“With respect, noble one,” Gundt said, “there has been no ai’sletta found for many generations.”
The Grand Hadri snorted. “And if there were, it would be your job to protect her. Are you protecting her now by denying her existence?”
I swallowed. It was hard to fool this man.
“She was snatched from me by Lady Lightland,” Judicus interrupted, pulling attention away from Gundt again. Did he do that on purpose? To protect us? “On my way to bring her to you, I lost her.”
The Grand Hadri tapped his chin, looking from one of us to the next as if considering us. I wondered if I should tell him what I’d learned. Could he help the phoenixes stay safe? Would he? He didn’t seem very altruistic.
I wasn’t sure if he’d even blink if I told him Stryxex had emerged and were hunting phoenixes.
Just one phoenix, Kazmerev said. I hardly count as more than one.
But the note from Hallimore had laid out that they had found the caches. That they were destroying them and laying traps for any Flame Riders who went to them. That they were trying to eliminate phoenixes entirely.
What?
Oh. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten to tell Kazmerev the secret.
But ... but they can’t.
I wasn’t sure if that was denial or if he thought it was fact. After all, they’d killed Hallimore’s mount, Arturo. Killed him for good, not just for the day.
I didn’t know how I sensed it, but I could feel a sudden freeze – not just in Kazmerev but in Huxabrand, too.
Kazmerev began to keen quietly in the back of my head, but it was Huxabrand’s voice that spoke.
The Stryxex are back, and they are hunting phoenixes
with a plan to kill us all.
At first, I thought she was just repeating what I’d told her, but then Gundt’s head whipped up and his eyes met mine. Oh. She had been telling him.
Not only that, but when I peeked from my peripheral at the other Flame Riders the looks of horror on their faces confirmed what I’d wondered. They’d heard it, too.
“I think I have a solution,” the Grand Hadri said mildly.
My eyes widened, heart speeding up. He’d heard, too? Was nothing private anymore?
But no. He was looking at Judicus. And I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid at the horrified fear in every Flame Rider in the room, or the look the Grand Hadri was aiming at my friend.
Chapter Six
“You, Judicus Franzer Irault,” the Grand Hadri said, “will travel with all speed and the aid of your coterie to recover the ai’sletta and bring her to me.”
My belly did a flip flop. That’s what we’d been planning all along, so why did it sound so bad, now?
Gundt shifted his weight, silently, eyes looking down. I could tell he wasn’t happy. But what could he do?
“You, Gundt Hellebar, illegitimate son of Lady Lightland, will answer directly to Irault.”
At that Gundt’s eyes shot up. His jaw was rigid with what must be fury at this constant reminder he wasn’t a legitimate heir of his family. In Landsfall, no one worried too much about that kind of thing. If a child was being raised by parents who loved them, no one asked questions about who had conceived them or why. We knew who their parents were – the ones clothing and feeding them. And if a man died and his oldest wasn’t technically his blood, no one so much as shrugged at the fact that the oldest was still named heir and the line carried through him. We had a looser way of things. A kinder way, I thought.
“Oh yes,” the Grand Hadri went on, his lip curling. “I don’t trust my nephew. He bears his father’s name. He bears his father’s look in his face and in that rail-thin body which is so useless for war or adventure.” Well, that wasn’t called for! “Inviting him into my trust is like inviting in a snake. His magic is too wild to be raised to the place of Calicarn Trust. He’ll forever be a wild rope worker. His father was wild, too. Too wild to leave him lands or a title worth having, but instead, tarring him heavily with shame.”
Phoenix Heart: Episode 5: Grand Hadri Page 2
