Stone pathways wound up and around, bordered by low walls draped with vines and flowers. At the near end, multilevel dwellings had been built in and around the massive limbs of the trees bordering the cliff. Bridges of rope and wood connected them to the cliff homes. At the base of the cliff, paths dove under and into shadowed recesses.
The sea, gentle and serene as off Elcinea, lapped against the white-sand beach. All in all, Annfwn made a spectacularly beautiful sight. I had never pictured it so, from my mother’s stories, but I recognized now what she’d tried to describe. It pained my heart to think of it. Perhaps because I had yet to regrow my thicker skin. On some deep level, though it made no logical sense, I recognized the place. My blood surged and that strange sense of rightness filled me.
Andi, who’d hung back as Rayfe pointed out features to an interested Harlan and delighted Dafne, while I’d been transfixed, rode close enough to nudge my knee with hers. “Breathtaking, isn’t it? I had the same reaction.”
“How do you suppose she ever left it?” I breathed.
Andi shook her head. “She was like you, I suppose—full of conviction and powerful purpose.”
“Is that how you see me?” I asked, bemused.
“You won’t stay, will you? You could. This is your home, too, by right. After we rescue Ami, you could stay here, swim in the warm waters, settle down with the handsome and stalwart Captain Harlan, and make babies.”
It made me laugh, even as I was shaking my head at the prospect. “I must return to Ordnung. My place is there.”
“See? Conviction and powerful purpose.”
“Maybe, though . . .” I trailed off, trying to see the path of my future. How it could fall out. Find Ami, rescue Stella, bring them all home to Ordnung. Kill or otherwise dispatch Illyria, send the mercenaries away. If Uorsin made Astar his heir, if I survived all that, perhaps I could return. If only to visit. A lot of ifs.
Andi’s eyes had gone storm dark, as if she somehow followed the turn of my thoughts, looking down that path also. I studied her face. “What is the likelihood I’ll survive to return here?”
She started, glared at me. “It doesn’t work that way. I can’t give you betting odds.”
“But you do see scenarios where I die.”
“I’m not discussing this.”
“What if knowing will help me to avoid it?”
Andi looked through me in that uncanny way. “Did you find your doll?”
“There was no finding needed—I always knew where it was. And yes, I looked at it and found nothing more remarkable than ever.”
“Did you bring it with you?”
“No. I thought it safer at Ordnung.”
“Probably just as well.” Her gaze strayed to the Star of Annfwn in the hilt of my sword. “That will guide you. That’s why she gave it to you. The doll will help you see and so will Lady Zevondeth. When she asks for your blood, give it to her and do as she tells you, even if it makes no sense.”
I nodded, committing the advice to memory. It sounded crazy, but I knew the words came from another place. It also didn’t bear repeating that the doll had been empty or that Zevondeth wasn’t in condition to do much at all. If she even still lived. All of that fell to the future.
“And, Ursula? You won’t want to hear this, but . . .” She shook her head, stopping herself.
“What?”
“No, I can’t tell you. If I do, it changes too much.”
“That’s hardly helpful.”
“I know.” She looked profoundly unhappy.
“My queen?” Rayfe called out.
“We’re coming!” She answered, but her fierce, troubled gaze stayed on mine. Nudging Fiona still closer, she grasped my hand. “I told you before not to trust him, remember?”
We both knew who she meant, though I didn’t want to hear it any more now than I had then. I understood Andi’s dislike of our father, didn’t blame her, as shabbily as he’d treated her, but I couldn’t agree.
“I know you don’t believe me, but there will come a time . . .” She shook her head, clearly frustrated. It seemed to me that these visions of the future or whatever they were could hardly be all that useful, if she struggled with them so. “When the day comes that you make a choice that seems heinous to you, know that it’s the right thing. The worst option is the best one. For all of us.”
“That has to be the least helpful advice I’ve ever received,” I remarked.
Either my wry tone penetrated her haze or the grip of the magic eased its hold, because she refocused on my face and gave me a crooked smile. “Well, we foreseers can’t make things too easy on our heroes.”
“Some hero I am.” I laughed and tugged at my hand, but she held it a moment longer.
“You’re my hero, Ursula. Always have been.” Then she let me go, shook back her hair, and rode up to enter the city beside her husband.
The Tala people, though they noted our passage into the city, showed little more excitement than the folk of Ordnung Township would. In fact, they called out quite familiar greetings to Rayfe and Andi, observing no formal protocol as we followed the winding road up past houses, shops, and gathering areas.
Curious glances surveyed Harlan, Dafne, and me, knowing us for foreigners, who were obviously scarce in Annfwn. Still, we did not create that much of a stir. If I’d been asked to assess the population of the cliffside city based on this behavior alone, I’d have wanted to call them complacent. Obviously well fed, many of them indulged in conversation or artistic tasks that would have been deemed frivolous in most cities in the Twelve.
However, despite their apparent relaxed indolence and studiously careless neglect of our passage, my awareness prickled as if we’d walked into an ambush. We were surrounded by people who could change form at will or perform magics beyond my comprehension. They were like the prides of big cats of Erie, who sunned themselves and watched passersby with lazy, jeweled eyes—and could spring into lethal action in a blink.
“I’d wish to have my men with me,” Harlan commented quietly, “if I wasn’t sure they’d just be slaughtered also.”
I threw him an appreciative glance. “Disconcerting, isn’t it, to pass among them, knowing how quickly we’d die if they took it in their heads to do us harm.”
“At least you have the advantage of sharing Tala blood. I’m merely a mossback, mortal meat for these lions.”
“Perhaps your new fan club will save you.” I nodded at a group of young women who hung over a flower-draped balcony ahead, giggling among themselves, clearly admiring Harlan’s big form, judging by their enthusiastic gestures.
They’d been pacing us for some time, an exception to the studious nonattention of most of the population, taking advantage of the way the road switchbacked under various ledges, balconies, and bridges. All dark haired, young, lissome, and lovely, they seemed exceptionally taken with the fair-haired mercenary. I couldn’t blame them, really.
He’d tanned darker over the last few days of travel, skin gleaming bronze in the gentle sunshine, shades deeper than his blond hair. The warmth had prompted us all to strip down some, and he wore a simple leather vest over a sleeveless white shirt. It set off the impressive muscles of his shoulders and arms.
“Like what you see?” he asked, his voice low, with a sensual buzz I now recognized.
“They certainly do.”
As we passed beneath, the group of young ladies shouted something in the liquid Tala language, and one tossed an exotic blossom to him. He caught the flower and halted, bowing gravely to the woman. Then he placed a hand over his heart, shook his head with an expression of dramatic regret, and handed the blossom to me.
The ladies sighed in disappointment, eyeing me and whispering among themselves. Feeling both self-conscious and surprisingly warmed by the gesture, I studied the blossom, never having seen its like before, uncertain what I should do with it.
“Here,” Harlan nudged his horse closer, took the flower from my hands, and tucked it behind
my ear. “Beautiful.”
I couldn’t possibly be blushing. The romantic murmurs of the young women above added to the silliness of it all. I urged my stallion ahead, to catch up. “You might as well plop a bow on my head.”
“On the contrary,” Harlan replied, easily pacing me. “The red of the flower very nearly matches your hair, and the curve of the petals compliments the line of your jaw and cheekbones, the fairness of your skin.”
“Just my luck—a romantic mercenary. Who knew?”
“We’ve had little opportunity for romance,” he agreed. “I’ll have to make up for that.”
“It’s hardly a high priority.”
“All the more reason. I wouldn’t want you to lay that fault at the feet of Dasnarian men also. ”
We had reached about the middle of the vertical height by then, I estimated, and Andi and Rayfe dismounted in a wide apron ringed by arches and sculptures of trees. It hadn’t been clear from below, but the depth of the cliff varied considerably. What had appeared to be a sheer face actually contained the length of Ordnung’s practice yard in places. More so, considering the shadowed recesses beyond the doorways leading deeper into the rock. The entire cliff could be hollow, for all I knew.
Judging by the comparative stateliness of the pillars and sculptures, this would be their center of government. Indeed, a group of older Tala emerged, moving languidly but studying us with sharp, suspicious gazes. No, watching me.
I dismounted and squared my shoulders, holding my back straight. Something fluttered in the corner of my eye—Harlan’s ridiculous flower. But removing it now might make it look as if I waffled in my intentions. Wishing Andi had briefed me on protocol or given me some warning that we’d face their ruling council so quickly, for surely this was a group of that sort, I decided not to bow.
“Well, Uorsin’s daughter”—a white-haired woman stepped forward, addressing me without bowing either—“Annfwn did not expect to feel your feet upon her stones.”
An odd way to put it. Andi and Rayfe had moved up behind me but still stood back. The other Tala counselors arranged themselves in a sort of V formation trailing from their spokesperson.
“I came in search of my youngest sister,” I informed her, keeping my tone courteous but neutral.
“We know what you seek,” one of the men said, face set in unfriendly lines. “You pursue what your father has long sought. We see before us his hand, reaching out to throttle the life from Annfwn.”
“I am but one person, amid a host of Tala. What harm can I possibly cause you?”
“You should not have admitted her, Queen Andromeda.” The woman glared at Andi over my shoulder. “You place Uorsin’s viper at the heart of Annfwn.”
“My sister is also Salena’s daughter,” Andi replied, sounding entirely unperturbed, but with a thread of steel beneath. “Annfwn is as much her home as yours.”
They didn’t like that, muttering to each other in their language.
“She shall not be admitted to the council session, regardless. We have information to discuss, King Rayfe, Queen Andromeda.” Now she bowed, rather pointedly, to them. “It shall rest upon you, if you choose to share our secrets with a foreign monarch.”
“That’s perfectly understandable,” I said, before Andi or Rayfe could. It seemed moot to point out that I was monarch of nothing. “Neither would I admit you to private discussions at Ordnung.” I stepped to the side, to avoid turning my back on them. Behind his carefully blank expression, Harlan looked amused and Dafne seemed simply fascinated, still shimmering with the glittering enthusiasm of being in Annfwn.
I almost envied her the uncomplicated delight in it all.
“Perhaps there’s a place we could wait and refresh ourselves?” I asked Andi and Rayfe. He met and held my gaze, then dipped his chin in a slight nod of acknowledgment.
Andi showed her relieved gratitude more clearly. “I’ll arrange for an escort.”
A young woman appeared at her elbow, though I hadn’t caught the signal. Andi spoke to her in the Tala language, a development that had me raising an eyebrow and Dafne practically salivating. Taking me by the elbow, Andi led us a short distance away.
“Phyra will show you to our home and your rooms. She doesn’t speak the Common Tongue—not many here do—but I’ve told her that you may help yourselves to whatever you need. Sorry that we can’t go with you. Given the tenor of the council, we may be gone until quite late.”
“Not a very friendly bunch,” I commented.
“Can you blame them?” she replied with some impatience. “Most of them are of an age to have observed how Uorsin conquered their eleven neighbors and would have done the same to them, had Salena not prevented it.”
“And, while you are Salena’s heir, I am his. I am him.” His hand. Why that bothered me, I wasn’t certain.
Andi studied my face. “You’re not him, but they don’t understand that yet. Believe me, it’s taken me much time to earn their trust—thank Moranu for Rayfe’s unwavering faith in me—and even still . . .” She finished with a lift of her shoulders.
“Go find out the news. Settle your council. We’ll leave in the morning still?”
“Yes. Dafne, there’s a library you’ll enjoy.”
“Is it a problem if we explore a bit?” I asked her, glancing at Harlan, who nodded. Neither of us would want to cool our heels inside. “Walk around, see the sights?”
“That should be fine. Just don’t skewer anyone.”
“Ha-ha. Seriously—should we expect trouble?”
“No. You’re here under our protection. No one would dare harm you.”
“What about the elements of unrest?” I lowered my voice, in case any could understand enough to overhear.
“Elsewhere.”
“Ah.” Interesting. I’d figured they knew more than they’d revealed thus far. “Take your time. We’ll be fine to keep ourselves occupied.”
She gripped my arm. “Thank you for understanding. I never thought I’d be holding court while you were out playing.” She made a face, then drew herself up, shrugging on her queenly authority like a cloak.
I watched her join Rayfe and go with him and their council into the inner chambers, feeling such a surge of love and pride for her that it took me a little aback.
“It’s good to see her find her place,” Dafne remarked.
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
27
Andi and Rayfe’s home turned out to be several more flights above. We walked there, the bright-eyed Phyra leading the way.
“A person could keep in good condition just walking up and down these roads all day,” I remarked after we’d traveled a few of the loops, and Dafne gave me a rueful smile, more than a little out of breath and looking less delighted, more ragged.
Harlan plucked at his leather vest, to allow some air under it to his sweat-soaked shirt. “I begin to understand their custom of wearing such light clothing also.” He eyed a group of long-haired young men who passed us in loose-fitting shirts with billowing sleeves and flowing trousers. “Perhaps we can borrow some.”
“I doubt they have anything that will fit your mountain of a body.”
He slid me a sly smile. “You seemed to enjoy it well enough last night.”
Dafne studiously looked in another direction while I glared at the mercenary. He took my hand. “Don’t frown so. Lady Mailloux knows full well we spent the night together and she keeps your secrets well. If secret this is.”
“I’m not frowning.”
“You are.” He tapped a thumb between my eyebrows. “You get this vertical line right here when you’re thinking too hard.”
Dafne made a soft sound of amused agreement and I batted his thumb away. To prove a point, however, I kept my hand in his as we continued to climb. Despite his accusation that I was thinking too hard, I felt strangely serene. The sunshine, flowers, the sheer, staggering beauty everywhere I looked, all conspired to create a sense of a space out of time. We could do nothing more
until morning, so for the rest of the afternoon and evening, we might as well take in Annfwn.
I’d been to the seashore in Elcinea but had never had time to walk the beaches there, as so many liked to do. Looking out now over the calm, aquamarine waters of what surely had to be the Onyx Ocean—though it possessed an entirely different character here than at Windroven—I thought I might like to try it.
“If my mental map is correct, we look toward Dasnaria, somewhere over this sea.”
“That’s how I have it, also,” Harlan replied, squinting into the distance. “Yet none of our sailing vessels have made it to this spot.”
“Not even in legend?” Dafne asked.
He tipped his head. “It’s possible that some tales referred to this place.”
Open-air, as all the dwellings seemed to be, Andi and Rayfe’s home, while grander than most, was hardly palatial. It rose several stories, with flower-draped balconies that all looked out over the serene waters. No guards appeared to be posted, but since anyone could climb in any window, you’d have to man the place with an army for any kind of effective security.
“Not at all defensible,” Harlan commented, keen gaze taking in all the opportunities for trouble, just as I had.
“The Tala clearly lead a much more peaceful life than we do.” Dafne sounded entirely too complacent to my ear.
“Except for that pesky business of rebels they haven’t contained who clearly threaten Rayfe and Andi’s rule,” I reminded her. “Not to mention the suspicious-sounding death of Tosin. If Salena was Queen of the Tala before Rayfe was King, was Tosin king or consort, I wonder?”
“Does it matter?” Harlan’s voice stayed mild, but some kind of annoyance crawled beneath it.
Better to clear this up now. “In the Twelve it would. For instance, were I ever to marry—which I have no intention of doing—and if I succeed to the High Throne, my husband would never be High King.”
The Twelve Kingdoms Page 26
