Aurelie: A Faerie Tale

by Heather Tomlinson

  "Who, Laid"

  "I wouldn't stand between you," he said in a low voice. "An accused criminal can't offer much, not like a drac, with his magic and all. I saw you dancing together last night, And, urn," he finished like an unwound clock.

  161

  Aurelie glared at him while her ears caught up with her brain. She'd watched Netta listening, comparing what people said with how they said it. Her blind friend didn't read minds, as Aurelie had once imagined. She listened.

  Garin's words told her "go ahead and marry someone else," but his voice implied the opposite.

  "I do enjoy dancing with Loic," Aurelie enunciated. "He's an old friend, as I said, and crazy about Netta, which you also might remember. I happen to love, love, a blockheaded person who still hasn't u usted me with the complete truth."

  "What?"

  Aurelie folded her arms into wings, and flapped them up and clown. "Bawk, bawk," she said, as rudely as she could. She wanted to provoke him; this self-effacing meekness didn't suit Garin at all.

  "You love me?"

  "For a clever Skoeran, you can be very stupid."

  The gray-green eyes narrowed. "Who's so brave, slinging insults instead of saying what she means?"

  "Fine." Aurelie leaned forward and tapped his chin with her glove. "I"-- tap-- "love"-- tap --"you." Tap. "Is that clear?"

  "Love, love, or..."

  When Aurelie pulled her own hair in frustration, he wrapped his arms around her. "Sorry. I couldn't resist."

  "Garin?" Aurelie licked her cold lips. "I want to hear it."

  "I." He kissed her left eyebrow. "Love." He kissed her right eyebrow. "Princess." He kissed her nose.

  "Me," she said, and claimed his lips. Eventually, she remembered

  162

  they were sitting in a pile of snow next to a busy skating course. "What are we going to do?"

  "You have a nice long name, including the honorifics," he said. "House Pygargue, Heir to the Throne, Friend of Dracs, Confronter of Cowards I figured I'd work my way through the list."

  "Plenty of time for that, monsieur," she said primly, then giggled at his expression. "I mean," she repeated, some time later, "what are we going to do about Captain Inglis?"

  "Nothing, at the moment." He kissed her nose. "Festival's tomorrow, spring still weeks away. We'll worry about Inglis later."

  163

  Chapter 22 Aurelie

  The festival gown glittered like a column of ice. Aurelie stood at the top of Tower Bridge's central tower and swished her heavy skirts from side to side, enjoying the effect. The gold rays of the setting sun flickered from a hundred tiny mirrors sewn to the white satin overdress. As she moved, sparks of light danced across Lumielle's rooftops.

  Garin was stamping down snow. After the storm, guards had swept a path just inside the tower's parapet so watchers could patrol the wall. The snow in the center of the roof had formed a thin crust over icy granules, making it a chore to walk through.

  "Ack," Garin said, as bright spots flashed over his face. "You're blinding me!"

  "Close your eyes," Aurelie retorted.

  "As you command, Highness." Garin turned his face expectantly toward her.

  164

  Aurelie laughed. Her back to the distant festival grounds, she crossed the tower roof and dropped a kiss on his waiting lips. When he would have stolen another, she flitted out of reach, "Dalfi's coming with more fish buckets."

  "But it's the first time we've been alone in hours," Garin said.

  "Alone?" Aurelie laughed again. "There's a company of soldiers on the bridge below us, and way up here we're visible from all over the city. More soldiers at the gates and on the walls--they're all watching, aren't they? Not to mention Loic and Netta, wherever they are."

  "Dogs, or crows, or what?"

  Aurelie searched the sky. "I don't see them."

  "Wish Loic would give us a turn," Garin grumbled.

  "I think we're a little too visible today. We'd be missed."

  "Tomorrow, then," Garin said. "Or the next day. I'd like to be a dog for an afternoon."

  "Me, too." Aurelie hugged her elbows, as if the happiness welling inside her might spill out. Tomorrow or the next day. Such delicious wordsl

  She did a little jig, to watch the reflections play over the snow. With Garin beside her, the shortest day of the year had flown by. Next came the event she had worked toward for weeks. Before the sun touched the horizon and the feast began, Master Austringer would call the sea eagles to the reviewing stand on the island, and then Aurelie would whistle them to her. She couldn't wait to see the spectacle from on high, the birds circling between island and city, king and Heir, their white wings catching the sun like pieces of her mirrored dress,

  165

  The assistant falcon keeper clumped up the tower stairs and set two pails of fish next to the others. "Princess Aurelie, you look beautiful."

  "Thank you, Dalfi." Aurelie curtsied. "You're very fine yourself."

  "New coat." He grinned at Garin and ducked down the stairs again, returning with more buckets and two large leather gauntlets. "Here, Your Highness."

  Aurelie held out her sparkling arms and Dalfi strapped the gauntlets over the mirror-encrusted sleeves. "One more thing." He ran down the stairs again for a wooden stool. "If you get tired of standing."

  "So, Dalfi." Garin had started in the center and was stomping in a spiral pattern, Aurelie noticed, around and around like a seashell. "Did you bring any snacks? To keep our strength up."

  "Fresh whitefish?" The falcon keeper pulled a hatchet out of his belt. "I can chop it finer."

  "Nah, I like mine cooked," Garin said.

  Aurelie paced to the southeastern side of the tower and stared in the direction of the festival grounds. "Too bad the trees block our view of the finish line. We'll miss the final races."

  "We can hear 'em, though," Dalfi said. "Horns signal the last lap. Then the king awards the winners and they'll call the eagles down. We're ready in good time. The birds, too, look it." He pointed with his hatchet. "There's Paumera and Montbrai, Carbonnel and Orbee."

  Aurelie watched the war birds soar past. "They know they're first, don't they?"

  "Free supper, you can count on Montbrai at the head of the line."

  "I know some people like that," Aurelie said.

  166

  "Hey," Garin protested. Dalfi chuckled.

  Aurelie perched on the stool and whistled under her breath, running through the commands. Monter, plonger, au tour. Garin prowled around the tower wall. He'd been up since early morning, helping Aurelie through the day's pageantry in a hundred unobtrusive ways. She knew his presence was what had really made the day special. No receiving line seemed too endless, no task too daunting with Garin beside her and Netta and Loic nearby. Whatever shape they wore.

  In the past few hours, the fear Aurelie had carried since the failed negotiations in the fall had dropped from her heart, a burden she no longer needed to carry alone. With companions like hers, who needed to steal a magic jewel? The four of them would make their own luck.

  Perhaps, Aurelie thought, the turning season had something to do with her newfound hope. The Longest Night was one of the two hinges of the year. As it closed, Aurelie fancied she could taste her fortune changing, like the tang of salt that laced the chill breeze.

  She snuggled her chin deeper into her collar and joined Garin at the shoulder-high wall facing the sea end of the frozen River Sicaun. He sniffed the air. She wondered what it smelled like to him. Ocean? Whitefish? Home?

  "A lot of tall masts out by the breakwater," he said.

  Aurelie shaded her eyes against the glare. "Twenty or thirty, at least."

  "There were only three or four oceangoing ships when I came in. Did your father expect more Jocondagnan vessels for the festival?"

  "I don't know." Aurelie gulped air, and the salt taste flooded her mouth with bitterness. That quickly, the fear returned. Her wool

  167

  under
dress, leggings, and boots might as well have been made from the same thin stuff as her mirrored gown, so little did they protect her from the chill.

  Too many ships. Someone at the palace would have mentioned their arrival, if only to work out the order in which the captains should be seated at table. A terrible certainty took shape within her. "You think they're Skoeran?" she said softly.

  Garin pounded his fist against the wall. "Who'd start a siege in this weather?"

  "Cold living, in tents," Aurelie agreed. "And they couldn't bring supplies, arms, explosives, and rams up the river like usual, because it's frozen."

  "Unless..." Garin leaned forward and gripped the edge of the parapet, as if he were going to be sick over the side.

  "Garin?" The expression in the gray-green eyes frightened her. "Unless what?"

  "Unless they brought iceboats," he said.

  "But the River Sicaun never freezes this early," Aurelie said. "Maybe once in a hundred years. They couldn't have counted on it."

  "No?"

  They stood so close together that she felt Garin's shudder along her body as the first sail bloomed in the distance. Like an out of season lily, white canvas petals unfurled. Then another popped open, and another. They looked so graceful, nodding silhouettes against the sun, but Aurelie knew the iceboats were poison flowers. Those steel runners would cut right through defenses mounted against a different kind of attack, and their untimely arrival signified death, not spring.

  168

  It didn't seem possible that this lovely day could end so abrupily in destruction. Was that the change she had smelled?

  Now Aurelie was certain that Inglis had stolen Burgida's Luck. The Skoeran's timing was too perfect, catching the bulk of the king's forces at the festival grounds, the rest unprepared for armed ships on skates. Aurelie could hardly comprehend what must follow.

  "Curse her," Garin said hoarsely. "I should have guessed she'd try this. I'm an idiot. Planking's too good for me. You should--"

  "Stop it." Aurelie's fists curled inside the heavy gauntlets. "I saw iceboats in Dorisen, too, and didn't realize the threat. We have to warn my father. Tell the soldiers below to send a skater south to the festival grounds, and another upriver, where the boats will hit first. There are cannons mounted at Sea Gate; it's the first place Papa had reinforced. Maybe our side can hold long enough for people to get away from the island."

  "Aye." Garin ran for the stairs.

  Aurelie knew there wasn't much chance the message would arrive in time. A man's blades couldn't travel nearly as fast as an iceboat's. Long before they could hope for reinforcements, the Jocondagnans at Sea Gate would face the enemy.

  "What's the matter with him?" Dalfi asked.

  "Iceboats." Aurelie's lips didn't want to shape the word, but Dalfi needed to know. The three of them were trapped here, with one company of soldiers and no relief in sight. "Skoeran vessels."

  The falcon keeper's face turned fish-belly white. "The invasion?"

  "Yes," Aurelie answered.

  Garin ran back up the stairs, his expression grim. "The guard

  169

  captain understands." He joined Aurelie at the parapet. "White sails with a green stripe, that's Rayonne." He shook his head as if he had trouble believing what he was seeing. "Iceflash, Sea Wolf. I don't recognize most of the others. Inglis must have had crews building frames around the clock."

  Aurelie saw red sails. "Garin. It's not... not that boat?"

  They stared at each other in mutual horror. If the dragon answered to her name, she could destroy the cityl

  "Inglis wants someone else to do her work for her?" Garin guessed.

  "Loic won't like that. Netta said he'd stand with us."

  "But he's no match for the other one." Neither Garin nor Aurelie would say the gargouille's name aloud.

  The first iceboat glided down the frozen river to the northernmost Sea Gate. Cannons coughed from the city walls, the smoke visible before the noise traveled across the quiet city. "It's started," Aurelie whispered. "Look, there are soldiers at the gate."

  "Too many of'em, though," Dalfi groaned.

  Skoerans, he meant. Men swarmed off the iceboat and engaged with the gate guard. Smaller guns fired, sharp pops at this distance. Aurelie felt each one in the pit of her stomach. From their vantage point at the top of the tower, it was like watching a play, except that at the end, the actors wouldn't be rising to take their bows. This was real.

  Though outnumbered, the Jocondagnans fought bravely. They stopped the first crew and the next, but the third iceboat broke through, whipping south.

  170

  "Hey!" Garin leaned over the wall and shouted. "We need more men up here. That boat's got grappling hooks."

  "Why?" Dalfi asked, as boots pounded up the stairs.

  "So they don't need to control the door," Garin explained. "They'll climb straight up the tower walls to get to the princess."

  Closer, now, the steel runners scraped the ice. Like skate blades, but louder. Garin wrapped his arms around Aurelie and kissed her. "For luck," he said.

  She couldn't answer; her throat felt tight.

  The iceboat approached the bridge. They were here. Time slowed for Aurelie, giving her a last golden moment to see the love and despair swimming in Garin's gray-green eyes. She touched a finger to his lips, the leather gauntlet heavy on her arm. Garin pulled the knife from his boot.

  "I'll protect you too, Highness." Fear pinched Dalfi's face, but he hoisted a bucket and shook it. "They come over that wall, I'll knock 'em downl"

  Aurelie found her voice. "Felled by fish, how appropriate."

  The iceboat glided to a stop. Howling as they came, riggers swarmed up the bridge supports.

  "Fish..." Aurelie looked up and saw that two eagles had joined the others. Netta and Loic. She waved at them. Together again, all four. For the last time, most likely. Tears threatened, and Aurelie squeezed them back, staring hard at the pale shapes drifting in the sky, like snow. "The war birds," she whispered. Pursing her lips, she whistled Paumera's call. One white eagle separated from the rest.

  The first of the iron hooks clanged over the parapet. It bit against

  171

  the stone coping, and held. Line hissed through the ring at the end, chain jangling after. A soldier tried to dislodge it, but the opposing crewman's weight kept the chain taut. Another soldier leaned over the wall and fired.

  "Don't throw your bucket, Dalfi. We'll need the fish." Aurelie reached into the pail, held up her arms and whistled again. Plonger. Paumera dropped out of the sky.

  Another grappling hook pitched over the edge of the parapet, but its edge failed to catch. As it rasped along the tower roof, Dalfi hooked it with his hatchet and heaved it back over the wall. Aurelie braced herself. The eagle landed with a body-shaking thump on her right fist and took the offered tidbit in one swallow. Then, as if the great raptor knew the time had come to put her training to use, she lifted just far enough off the leather gauntlet to dive over the side of the tower, talons extended. In the next breath, Aurelie whistled for Montbrai. "Fish!" she said. Dalfi slapped another into Aurelie's left glove.

  Paumera screamed. A man's shout ended in a horrible gurgle, followed by a muffled smack. Like a body hitting the ice under the bridge. Aurelie couldn't dwell on it. More Skoerans were coming. Jocondagnan soldiers dashed along the parapet, shooting at the climbing riggers. Hooks clanged, chain rattled, guns fired. Acrid smoke hung in the air.

  For once, Montbrai didn't loll on Aurelie's glove, hinting for another reward. Instead, the great wings kept beating as the bird gulped the fish and flew to attack the enemies. Eagle Netta and eagle Loic hadn't waited to be summoned. They made an army of two, their talons slashing at the Skoeran riggers.

  172

  For Aurelie, the next little while was a blur of buffeting wings and slick whitefish, and whistling, and gunshots, and the screaming of eagles and men. Her job was to remember the notes that summoned each of the war birds. She w
as aware of Garin, never far from her side, of Dalfi, knocking chains away with his hatchet, then packing empty buckets with snow and hurling them onto the climbing men.

  The invaders had the inexorable power of numbers. As more and more iceboats arrived, Aurelie's small force gave way, step by hard-fought step, until the Jocondagnan soldiers below the tower roof had been captured, wounded, or killed. Those fighting with her ran out of ammunition and were shoved downstairs to join their fellow prisoners.

  Aurelie, Garin, and Dalfi found themselves back to back in a tight circle in the center of the roof. To scatter her aerial defenders, Aurelie had whistled a last monter. She didn't want the eagles to come within gun range. The Skoerans shot at the birds but were evidently under orders not to kill her. Royal hostages must be more valuable alive than dead,

  Eagle Loic, however, had a fine sense of the weapons' capabilities against his own speed and power. The first few men who had tried disarming Garin or reaching for the princess had staggered away, deep furrows bleeding from the back of their heads. The rest kept their distance, content to wait for their commander's instructions.

  Aurelie took a deep breath. Sweat cooled on her neck and back. Her arms ached from the weight of the gauntlets. Dalfi, trembling behind her, seemed safe but Garin's jacket sleeves were slashed. He tied a torn-off strip above his left elbow, pulling it tight with his teeth.

  173

  "Can I help?" she asked.

  "This'll do," Garin said. "You're not harmed?"

  "No." Aurelie rubbed her cold face before realizing that fish scales covered the glove. She thought briefly that Helis would enjoy the joke. Princess Fish face. But still, a princess, and Jocondagne's Heir. The thought straightened her back and lifted her chin. She had to secure Garin's safety, and Dalfi's. "What are your terms?" she asked i he closest Skoeran. "I will require safe conduct for my men."