by Brondos, Pam
“We saved the duozi,” Nat corrected.
“True, but I didn’t have a personal confrontation with the Nalaide.”
“I didn’t confront her, I ran from her,” Nat said, thinking of the creature’s venomous glare when she’d spotted her markings.
Annin shrugged and grabbed both their elbows. She steered them toward the inner gardens. “I’ve some news from Estos.”
“Estos? Is he here?” Nat pulled her elbow away and nearly stepped onto a pile of drying valerian root.
“No, what a puerile thought.” Annin scrunched her brows. “Do you think I’d let him risk his hide by coming through the eastern forest?” She twisted a small weed around her finger, pulled it from the loose soil, and dangled it in front of Nat’s face. Nat stared at the bits of soil clinging to the roots. In her exhaustion, the dark clumps blurred in and out of focus. Annin dropped the weed at Nat’s feet and ducked under a low-hanging branch of a fruit tree. Nat felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.
“You’re falling asleep standing up. Go get some rest,” Soris whispered as Annin twittered on.
“He did want to come after he heard your news about Emilia, but I dissuaded him,” Annin said as Soris held Nat’s arm, steadying her. “He sent a messenger who arrived last night. He’s to accompany us north to meet with Estos.”
“What?” Soris barked, and Nat was suddenly alert.
“Estos is working on some type of plan and wants our assistance.” Annin wrapped an arm around the slender trunk of a plum tree. “That is, assuming you’re not ready to bolt back into your mousehole, Natalie?” Her lips curved slightly.
“He wants my help?” Nat pointed to her chest.
“She’s not going anywhere but home.” Soris stepped between them.
Annin twirled around the tree so she could look directly at Nat. “Yes, he does want your help.” She ignored Soris to answer Nat’s question. Soris’ face turned an odd shade of crimson. “Estos’ messenger is anxious to speak with you.”
“Whoever Estos sent can wait a few more hours.” Nat stepped around Annin, feeling irritated and spent. Ethes’ words still burned in her ears. She was not in the right frame of mind to consider any request from Estos’ messenger. “Right now, I need to sleep, and then I need food,” she said, walking in the direction she hoped led to her room.
“I’ll be sure to let him know you wanted a nap first before meeting with him,” Annin called out behind her. A wicked look crossed her human eye.
“You do that,” Nat said without looking back. All she wanted to meet right now was her bed.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Kept me waiting half a day! Half a day! Like I was on some piddling errand.” Andris thrust his finger at Nat. She glared at Annin, who had a huge smirk on her face. It would have been so easy for Annin to have told them that Estos’ messenger was Andris. Annin slid into a chair by the fireplace. The embers popped and flickered, offering little heat for the damp room. The rain had returned with its chill.
Soris held his hands up. “Brother, we didn’t know it was you, and to be fair, we’d just returned from raiding a Nala den with dozens of duozi in tow.” He took a step forward and placed a hand on Andris’ shoulder. “It’s good to see you, temper and all.”
Andris stroked his blond beard and eyed his brother. He touched the skin under Soris’ Nala eye. “It’s good to see you, too, brother, even with that awful thing gawking at me.” He embraced him.
“How are you possibly related?” Nat asked the two men. Not waiting for an answer, she joined Annin by the fire. Andris released Soris and raised his foot onto a long bench opposite the hearth. Soris strode to the rain-spattered window and leaned against the wall. He glanced from Andris to Nat with an uneasy look on his face.
Andris picked a clump of mud from the sole of his boot. “You’re certain it’s Emilia?” he asked.
“Yes.” Nat crossed her arms. The question was starting to irritate her.
“How can you be sure?” The bench creaked when he leaned toward the hearth with a skeptical look.
“Her face isn’t one I’d forget. The woman I saw in the Chemist’s quarters is the same woman in the portrait,” she said, remembering her crazed behavior. Even if she wasn’t acting very queenlike. She kept the thought to herself.
Andris cracked his knuckles and planted his boot on the rosewood floor. “You’d better be right, Natalie Barns . . .”
“Sister,” Nat corrected. She couldn’t care less if anyone else called her “Sister,” but with Andris, Ethes was right—it boiled her.
“Sister?” His eyebrows shot up. Nat stretched out her forearm, exposing her markings in the firelight.
He waved his hand dismissively. “Markings on you don’t mean—”
Her orb shot toward his face, veered to the left, and grazed his dirty-blond hair. His eyes widened.
“I stand corrected, Sister. Barba’s doing?” She nodded. “She always made odd choices,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat and gave her a mock bow. “Now that we’ve dealt with your ego, on to more important matters. If, and I’m still not convinced, what you say about Emilia is true, we have a problem.” Andris pulled a crumpled bit of parchment from his pocket and sketched a map. “Estos is set to attack a dam in the Keyen Mountains, north of Rustbrook. The dam controls the flow of the Rust River into the city. Meanwhile, Gennes will lead a second attack on Mudug’s mining colonies east of the mountains.”
“You’re cutting him off from his supply of riven.” Annin nodded appreciatively. “That fool still thinks riven will protect him from a Nala bite?”
“Our spies in Rustbrook say the Chemist is sending Mudug’s private guard to the mines to ensure a constant chain of supply to the city. Once Gennes has control of the mines, he’ll halt the flow of metals Mudug uses for weapons, and it will send him into a tailspin over the riven. We know riven is useless, but if Mudug’s been clinging to the belief that he can control the Nala if he has it, he’ll be quaking in his boots when Gennes succeeds.”
“I’m actually impressed,” Annin said.
“It gets better,” Andris said enthusiastically. “The nearest city large enough to supply Mudug’s garrison with fresh water is Ballew.” He pointed to a dot far south of Rustbrook. The dot marking the location of the city sat at the base of a crude rendering of a semicircle-shaped bluff.
“Closer to the Nala.” Soris traced a finger down a line of trees representing the eastern forest.
“Gennes’ spies report increased Nala attacks on merchants traveling up from the coastline. Whatever agreement Mudug has with the Nala doesn’t appear to be working out well.” Andris smirked. “With Mudug’s garrison away from Rustbrook and more than likely occupied with fending off the Nala, Estos can slip back into the capital. Once the people learn the true regent has returned, Mudug’s grip on Fourline will start to slip away.”
“But the Nala’s won’t. And I wouldn’t be so sure about Mudug and the Nala not working together still. Mudug’s been delivering children to them, bitten and unbitten,” Nat interjected, thinking of both the horror of the den and Ethes’ challenge.
“What?” Andris crinkled his nose in disgust.
“It’s true,” Soris said and stepped closer to Nat. “Whatever Estos and Gennes have planned, they need to stop Mudug from kidnapping children and delivering them to the Nala.”
“Estos has been in the fringe for the last month with Sister Rory searching out any remaining Sisters. He’s found many willing to offer their support and help the rebels. I suppose they can address this kidnapping problem as well. We’ll need to discuss it with Estos,” Andris said dismissively.
“What’s to discuss? The kidnappings have to end now.” Nat slapped her hand against the table. If Andris thought he’d push this problem aside, he was wrong.
“It’s not as if we can station Sisters and Gennes’ men in every town in Fourline to prevent kidnappings. We will discuss it with Estos and figure out the best options.” Andris gl
anced at his brother, who stood with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “What?” he asked him.
“Make it a priority,” Soris said.
“Fine, we’ll call it a priority, we’ll call it whatever you want. But let’s get back to the plan in place, which is complicated enough, and now fouled up because of you.” He pointed at Nat.
“How did I foul it up?”
“Mudug doesn’t know Estos is alive. If he finds out, and he will since Estos is leading the mountain operation, he’d be a fool not to use Emilia as a pawn.”
“Why can’t Estos just sit this one out? He can sneak back into Rustbrook after Mudug’s garrison’s left.” The solution seemed obvious to Nat.
“Our force is strong enough to take the mining operations, but not the mountain outpost at the same time. We know the mountain outposts are still loyal to the regency and would turn easily in favor of Estos. We believe that Estos will only need a small band of fighters. But he can’t sit this out. We need control of both the dam and the mining colonies to push Mudug’s garrison south, out of Rustbrook.”
“There must be an alternative,” Nat said.
“That’s where you come in, and trust me, this plan was not my invention.”
“Estos wants her to find Emilia, doesn’t he?” Annin leaned forward, her chin resting on her hands.
Andris nodded. “Since the Sister did it once, Estos figures she can do it again.” He looked grudgingly at Nat. “With help,” he added quickly. “He wants you, too.” He gave Annin a cursory nod.
“Why not me?” Soris broke in. “Natalie doesn’t need to go. I was in the Chemist’s quarters when she saw Emilia.”
Andris glanced at the fire. “I thought it best you remain here with the Sisters.”
“Remain here while she risks her life?” Soris’ eyes widened and he leaned toward his brother. “You can’t be serious.”
“You can provide the Healing Sisters with much-needed support.” Andris averted his gaze.
“Get this into your head, brother. I am not staying here. Especially not if Estos expects her to head back into that wasp’s nest.” He placed his hand on Nat’s arm and stared defiantly at Andris.
“I knew you’d give me grief,” Andris muttered. “Fine, fine, you can come. You’re certainly worth more in a fight than the others.” He looked pointedly at Nat. “But you are to come back here after this mission is over, brother.”
“Do you seriously think I’d skip back here while you and Gennes fight on?” Soris asked.
Andris scowled and grumbled something under his breath. “Fine,” he said again and gestured with an open palm toward Nat. “Well?”
“Well what?” she shot back, upset that Soris had dismissed the idea of coming back to the Healing House, the one safe place for him.
“Will you agree to help Estos? Without pay this time,” he added. The comment rankled Nat. She glared at the soldier.
“You don’t owe Estos anything, Natalie. You should go home where it’s safe,” Soris said before she could answer Andris.
“You just yelled at him for telling you to stay here,” Nat countered.
“There’s a difference. I’m from here, you’re not.”
“Annin, does blood run cold and unfeeling in my world?” Nat kept her eyes locked on Soris.
“Not to my knowledge, Sister, not to my knowledge,” Annin quipped and smiled, knowing where Nat was headed.
“Exactly. If I were cold-blooded and unfeeling, home would be an easy choice. But I’m not, and after being in that death-hole with those children, there is no way I’d pass up a chance to mess with Mudug.”
“You’re a fool.” Soris’ eyes bored into hers.
“You feel the same way I do about those children. I’m making the same choice as you, Soris.”
He brushed past her and thrust open Ethet’s door. The room vibrated when he slammed it behind him.
Andris tugged at his beard and gave Nat a questioning look. “Sister,” he said and lifted his chin, “to quote an expression from your world, I do believe you’ve grown some . . .”
“Andris, behave,” Annin growled. He shrugged. Nat stared at the door, wondering how long Soris would stay mad at her.
“Maybe you’re not a selfish scrounger after all,” Andris said as he collected the parchment from the table. “We leave in the morning. And don’t keep me waiting.”
The day following their departure from the Healing House was cold and gray. It was drizzling lightly, coating the tall grasses, their cloaks, and each horse with a fine mist. Nat gently wiped her gloved hand down her horse’s neck and flicked droplets of water onto the ground. She whispered into his ear, trying to settle his nerves.
Annin, Andris, Soris, and Nat were strung out in an elongated diamond formation with Annin in the lead and Nat bringing up the rear. Nat turned her horse for the seventh time in the last hour, surveying the gray sky and open plain behind them. They’d made it through the eastern forest without a Nala attack, but Nat felt wary and unsettled as she scanned the top of the tall grass. She turned her horse again and urged him forward, wanting to decrease the distance between herself and the others.
Andris’ and Soris’ fan-shaped cloaks spread out over their horses’ backs. The heavy drape of their hoods folded when they spoke to each other. Andris’ hands flew into the air every so often, and their occasional laughter punctuated the quiet, damp day.
Watching Soris and Andris riding together made her think of riding with her sisters. Until Marie Claire was big enough for her own horse, she’d ridden in front of Nat, brushing her ponytail against Nat’s face every time she turned her head to point out a butterfly or bird. Even Cal used to ride by her side when they rode into the hills surrounding their farm.
She pushed away the thoughts of home, tired of fighting the overwhelming doubt of her choice to stay. She’d felt certain in her decision when she’d told Andris she’d help, and she knew it was the right thing to do, but thoughts of home were messing with her emotions.
She shifted in the saddle and felt a sharp object press into her hip. She pulled out the small leather-bound book Ethet had given her before their departure. Nat hunched over the book, protecting it from the rain. The pages were filled with ancient illustrations from the First House. Ethet had suggested she might find answers to her questions about the Nala’s remnant within the volume. Nat tried to decrypt the foreign script under the image of a meldon flower, but eventually shut the book and tucked it safely into her satchel.
She looked up to find Soris approaching from a safe distance. Her horse jerked his head to the side when he neared. Soris pulled on the braided reins, bringing his horse to a halt a few paces away.
“Do you think your horse can stand my presence for a bit?” he asked.
Nat tightened her grip. “I’ll keep a tight hold,” she said, pulling hard to the right with her reins to keep her mount under control. Her horse was jumpy around both Annin and Soris, but if Soris wanted to ride with her, she’d keep the animal under control. The bit cut into the flesh of the horse’s mouth, and the animal snorted. Soris kicked his horse into step, and they rode together with a healthy amount of space between them.
“What were you and Andris laughing about?” she asked, wanting to control the direction of the conversation.
“Just a memory.”
“Care to share?”
“No.” He leaned back in his saddle. “Not yet. Since you’ve decided to stay, I think you owe me a few memories or something I don’t know about you first. I recall spilling my guts to you in the ruins of a Warrior House. It’s your turn.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Since you’re not from Fourline”—he paused and looked directly into her eyes—“tell me what your real home’s like.”
Nat let out a sharp laugh. Her horse cantered to the side, already nervous from Soris’ presence.
“What?” he asked.
“Of all the questions to ask. I’ve been trying
not to think about home all morning,” she explained. She caught a glimmer of understanding in his eye.
“Well then, I insist,” he said.
She sighed. “I live on a farm, or I do when I’m not at college.” She readjusted her reins and set a comforting hand on her horse’s neck.
“What kind of farm?” His voice was soft and encouraging.
“Small but beautiful. We raise a few sheep but mainly grow corn and barley. My dad runs the farm. He’s a woodworker, too. He can make the most beautiful furniture and carvings, Soris. He’s amazing with his hands. He can fix anything, which is good because we always have stuff breaking down. My mom’s a librarian at an elementary school. She’s smart and patient. And my sisters . . .” She sniffed and wiped her nose. “Cal will be eighteen this month. She’s attending the same college I do next year. MC, or Marie Claire, is my little sister, but she has the biggest heart.” A lump formed in her throat. She stopped talking and turned in her saddle. “You knew what talking about my family and home would do to me, didn’t you?”
“Not too late to change your mind. Sounds as if your home is a blessed place. Where we’re headed is not.” He shifted easily in his saddle and his beautiful green eye looked entirely sincere.
“You are sneaky.” She gave him a perturbed look and pulled on the reins to keep her horse from rearing.
“No, just motivated to see you home and out of Fourline,” he replied. “Move up with Andris before that beast bucks you off because of me. It’s my turn to take rear watch.” He spurred his animal away, leaving Nat to wonder why he so clearly wanted her to return home. She sighed and kicked her horse, leading him toward Andris.
Nat’s horse fell into step with Andris’, and they rode in silence for a few moments. They watched Annin disappear around the base of a hill covered in long lush grass. Nat glanced over her shoulder, looking back at Soris.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Andris said, keeping his eyes fixed on the spot where Annin disappeared.
“Wouldn’t what?” Nat straightened her back and tightened her grip on the reins.
