The Crimson Crown

by Cinda Williams Chima

  “I did not come here to be harangued about marriage,” Raisa went on. “I want to know why you chose Hunts Alone to serve the clans when you clearly don’t trust him. I want to know what you’re hiding. What do you know about him that I don’t?”

  “Very well,” Averill said, with a heavy sigh. “We will tell you the truth about Hunts Alone.”

  “Lightfoot,” Elena said, putting her hand on his arm. “I don’t think we…” She tilted her head toward Nightwalker.

  “Nightwalker will inherit my role as patriarch,” Averill said. “He deserves to know what is at stake here.”

  Nightwalker inclined his head. “Thank you for your confidence in me, Lord Demonai,” he said. “The more I know, the better I will be able to protect our interests. And those of Briar Rose.”

  “But, Captain Byrne…” Averill hesitated, embarrassed, unable to meet Amon’s eyes.

  “He stays,” Raisa said, growing impatient. “Now, what is it? How did Han Alister come to be working for you if he is such a dangerous person?”

  Elena and Averill looked at each other as if each hoped the other would take on this task. They looked almost…guilty.

  “Bear with us,” Elena said. “This is a secret that has been kept by the clan elders for a thousand years.”

  Raisa spread her skirts over her knees. “Well?” she said, worry sharpening her tongue more than usual. “Maybe I know this secret already. Like the fact that Alister was elected High Wizard.”

  “Hunts Alone shares your bloodline,” Elena said abruptly.

  “My bloodline?” Raisa shook her head, certain she couldn’t have heard right. This was not the sort of secret she was expecting.

  “The boy you call Han is also a descendant of Hanalea,” Elena said.

  Suddenly, the similarity between the names clicked. “You’re saying…you’re saying Han is related to me?”

  “Only very distantly. Very tenuously,” Averill said quickly, as if to undo what had just been said.

  “But how is that possible?” Nightwalker said. “He is a jinxflinger!”

  Averill rushed on without answering Nightwalker’s question. “My point is, there are some who might say that Hunts Alone has a claim to the Gray Wolf throne.” He said it softly, as if not wanting the world to hear.

  “Wait a minute!” Raisa raised her hand, palm out, to stop him. “Even if he had some relationship to the line, there’s no way he could be in the direct descendancy.”

  “Queen Alyssa had a twin brother,” Elena said.

  “A twin brother?” Raisa shook her head. “No. Alyssa was an only child, the daughter of Hanalea and that consort she married after the Breaking—what was his name?” She should know; she’d studied this history for too long.

  “Alyssa’s twin was named Alister,” Averill said.

  “Alister! Why have I not heard of him?” Raisa looked at her grandmother, her father.

  “Alister was gifted,” Elena said. “He presented a danger to the Gray Wolf line.”

  “But…Hanalea never had any gifted descendants,” Raisa said. “Anyway, if Han came from a line of wizards, he wouldn’t have been living in Ragmarket.”

  “His powers were suppressed,” Averill said.

  “What do you mean, suppressed?” Raisa asked suspiciously.

  “Those silver cuffs he wore. They kept his magic from manifesting. He didn’t even know he was gifted until a year ago.”

  The story was disjointed and sketchy enough to be true. If it was a lie, they would have done a better job in the telling. But Raisa could see that they were measuring out their words—telling her only enough to serve their purposes, trying to avoid some dark and significant truth.

  “But…why would the first Alister be gifted?” Raisa persisted. “The gifted trait isn’t compatible with the Gray Wolf magic, so it couldn’t have come from Hanalea, even though her father was a wizard. And Hanalea’s consort wasn’t a wizard—that wasn’t allowed after the Breaking.”

  “Alister and Alyssa were fathered by Alger Waterlow,” Elena said finally, as if the words tasted bad.

  After a long stunned silence, Raisa said, “That’s a lie.” She folded her arms across her chest like armor.

  “It’s the truth,” Elena said. “Hunts Alone carries the blood of the Demon King.” She pronounced it like a curse. “It is apparently powerful enough to counter Gray Wolf magic.”

  “You are saying that the jinxflinger living next door to Briar Rose is the get of the Demon King?” Nightwalker looked from Elena to Averill. They nodded. “How could you let this happen?” he demanded. “And why is he still alive?”

  “If what you’re saying is true, then I’m his descendant also,” Raisa said.

  “But you are not a jinxflinger, Briar Rose,” Nightwalker said, as if that made all the difference.

  Raisa ground the heels of her hands against her temples, trying to release the tension. “Listen to me. He couldn’t be of the true line and be gifted. Gray Wolf magic is incompatible with high magic. So the Gray Wolf line passes through Alyssa, not Alister.”

  “We know that, daughter, but some might ignore that, for political reasons,” Averill said. “The jinxflingers would like to do away with the Nǽming. How better to accomplish that than to put a wizard on the throne of the Fells, claiming that he is the lineal heir?”

  “I suspect that some of the Bayars would like to do away with the line,” Raisa said. “But Han despises the Bayars, and the feeling is mutual. I can’t imagine they would collaborate on this. The Bayars want power for themselves. There’s no way they would allow Han to claim what they want so badly.”

  “Are you sure of that, Briar Rose?” Elena said. “The Demon King was a skillful liar. He even fooled Hanalea for a time. Why shouldn’t we expect that his descendant shares his talent for dissembling?”

  “Does Han even know about this?” Raisa asked. “How can he be plotting and planning if he doesn’t know he shares my blood?”

  “He knows,” Elena said heavily. “We told him when we removed the silver cuffs I put on him when he was just a baby. I removed them when he agreed to serve us. I had to—he couldn’t use high magic otherwise.”

  “You took them off ?” Nightwalker shook his head in disbelief. “It would have been better to kill him as soon as you knew he was gifted. I told you at the time that recruiting a wizard to fight wizards was a bad decision.”

  “You did,” Averill said. “And you were right.”

  No, Raisa thought. No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no.

  It too closely mirrored what Fiona had said—that Han claimed to be a marriage of royal lineage and magic. But there was no way Han would conspire with the Bayars.

  A voice in her head said, Then why would he tell them, and not you?

  “So,” Raisa said, bile rising in her throat, “he’s known this story for a year, and he never told me.”

  “We ordered him not to tell anyone, Briar Rose,” Averill admitted grudgingly. “But we should have told you. We shouldn’t have allowed you to walk blindly into danger like this.”

  This is unfair, Raisa thought. This is unfair to Han, who isn’t here to defend himself.

  But she couldn’t help herself. It did kindle a question in her mind. Han had once as much as told her he loved her. Shouldn’t the fact that he was her distant relative have surfaced at least once in a conversation?

  Why wouldn’t he tell me? If he loved me, why would he keep this from me?

  Looking back from this new angle, she saw a whole sequence of lies told to her by Han Alister. And very little truth.

  Cat had told her that Han was good at keeping secrets. Apparently, she was right. Could Raisa afford to trust someone who had so much to hide?

  I don’t know, Raisa thought. I don’t know, I don’t know.

  “Whatever his bloodline, Alister has done everything I’ve asked. I was the one who asked him to stand for High Wizard, and he did. He didn’t seem happy about it, either. Is there any evidence that the B
ayars or anyone else know who he really is?”

  “The Bayars do not confide in us,” Elena said tartly.

  I have to buy myself time to think, to figure this out. There has to be an explanation.

  “I have listened to everything you’ve had to say,” Raisa said. “Captain Byrne has already launched an investigation into the allegations against Lord Alister. In the meantime, I won’t take foolish chances.”

  Such as falling in love with him? a sardonic voice said in her head.

  “Listen to me, daughter,” Averill said. “You must dismiss Alister as your bodyguard. Do it now. He should not be housed so close to you. If you don’t take action, we will.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Raisa said, her throat gone dry.

  “We are Demonai warriors,” Elena said. “We know what to do with jinxflingers who present a danger to the Gray Wolf line.”

  Raisa looked up, and all she saw were implacable, unforgiving clan faces staring back at her. They will do it, she thought. They will do it and they will tell themselves they are doing it for love of me.

  And suddenly she couldn’t stand to be in this conversation a moment longer.

  She drew herself up. “You are my father,” she said to Averill. “And you are my grandmother,” she said to Elena. “And you are duty-bound to me,” she said to Nightwalker. “If you take action against Hunts Alone without my permission, we will be at war.”

  C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - E I G H T

  CLIMBING

  THE DEADLY

  NEVERGREEN

  After the final meeting between Alger and Lucius, Han stayed another day at the cabin on Old Woman Creek. The longer he stayed away, the greater the likelihood of Bayar mischief—he knew that. He hated to leave Cat responsible for Raisa’s safety, but there was business to do before he returned to town.

  He hoped to go back with the armory as his bargaining chip. He visited Aediion twice more, looking for Crow, but Crow wasn’t there. Worry pinged through him. Han had kept his part of the bargain—would Crow keep his?

  Dancer helped him go through Lucius’s sparse belongings. They found a will that Speaker Jemson had prepared for him, which designated Han Alister his sole heir. The old man had left Han everything he owned—his cabin, his distillery, his fishing gear, his dog, and the library of books he’d never read.

  The place seemed desolate now, with Lucius gone. Han kept expecting the old man to come banging out the door, calling, “Boy! That you, boy? Got me some product to go to town!”

  Lucius had done terrible things. He’d betrayed his best friend and the woman he loved, and he’d lied to Han. He was weak—but he was also one of the few pegs Han’d had to hang his life on, growing up.

  Was there any way to change a story that had been told for a thousand years? Han imagined himself going before the deans at Oden’s Ford, explaining that he and his dead ancestor, the Demon King, had interviewed the drunk hermit of Hanalea and it turned out Alger Waterlow wasn’t a fiend after all. That the powerful Bayar family had caused the Breaking, then remade history to blame it on a love-struck young wizard who didn’t know when to give up.

  Dog moped about, inconsolable. Han didn’t really know what to do with dogs. He’d never had a pet of his own—to Mam, that was one more mouth to feed. He allowed Dog to sleep at the foot of his bed, and woke in the morning to find himself crowded to the edge, Dog’s nose pressed into the small of his back.

  When Han and Dancer returned to Marisa Pines, Han took Dog along. In the camp, Dog clung to Han like a sucker vine, growling and snapping at the camp dogs and defending Han against imagined threats. Willo was the only one who could win him over.

  Han enjoyed the sanctuary of Willo’s hearth, for what he knew might be the last time. Everything would change when Elena and Averill learned of Dancer’s parentage, which they surely would. Dancer was growing edgy, being apart from Cat for so long. More and more, he mentioned returning to town.

  Willo seemed loathe to let Dancer go. “I worry about you these days, whenever you are out of my sight. I think we were right in confronting Bayar. And if it helps Hunts Alone, that’s a good thing. But I have no doubt that Lord Bayar will find a way to take revenge on us.”

  They were just finishing dinner when the camp dogs set up a clamor that said there were visitors approaching. Han and Dancer walked outside, with Dog plastered to Han’s side, his ears laid back.

  A lone rider approached, with the standard Demonai escort. The rider reined in outside the Matriarch Lodge and slid to the ground.

  It was Cat Tyburn, incongruously dressed in a yellow gown with tall boots underneath, riding an unfamiliar horse.

  “Cat!” Dancer ran forward and embraced her, swinging her around in a circle. “I have missed you. Thank you for coming.”

  Cat rested her head on Dancer’s chest, allowing herself to enjoy the embrace before she pulled away. Casting a sidelong look at the Demonai, she said, “Let’s talk inside.”

  Dancer motioned to one of the young boys hovering near. “Shadow—could you see to Catfire’s horse?”

  They had taken to calling her Catfire in the camps, honoring her connection to Fire Dancer as well as her personality.

  Cat marched into the Matriarch Lodge. Willo hadn’t moved from her place by the fire, but now she stood. “Catfire!” she said, smiling. “Welcome to our hearth. Please share all that we have. Have you eaten?”

  Cat shook her head. “I left Fellsmarch this morning, and I’ve been riding ever since.” She glanced at Willo’s apprentice, and shut her mouth.

  Bad news can’t wait for dinner, Han thought, reading her face.

  Bright Hand dished up some venison and sweet potatoes, and then withdrew, leaving them to talk in private.

  They sat cross-legged on the rug before the hearth, Dancer next to Cat, with his hand on her knee. Dog flopped down on the rug, his head resting in Han’s lap, and Han absently scratched him behind the ears.

  Willo sat by the door, ready to intercept any intruders.

  Cat wolfed down half her meal before she felt restored enough to speak.

  “You’re in trouble, Cuffs,” she said. The words came tumbling out, with scarcely a breath between. “The Bayars met with Captain Byrne and told him you claim to be of royal lineage and you mean to climb onto the throne. Fiona says you want to couple up with her, which nobody with any sense would believe, but they all seem to.”

  “How did the Bayars find out about your bloodline?” Dancer said.

  “I sort of told Fiona,” Han said distractedly, his mind churning with the implications of this disaster.

  “You told her?” Dancer said. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”

  “I lost my temper, all right?” Han said. “I made a mistake,” he added, when Dancer rolled his eyes. “It happens.”

  “Wait—it’s true?” Cat said, staring at the two of them. “Cuffs is a blueblood?”

  “It’s a long story,” Dancer said.

  “So the Bayars claim I’m plotting against the queen?” Han said, nudging Cat back to her story.

  “Right. But that’s not the worst part,” Cat said. “Flinn’s turned evidence against you. He and Captain Byrne came to see the queen. Flinn told her he overheard you plotting with Fiona, that you meant to hush Queen Raisa and Princess Mellony and grab the throne yourself.”

  “Blood and bones,” Han said, as his flimsy structure of lies and omissions came down around his ears. Flinn had brought Fiona to the Smiling Dog. He must have been eavesdropping, and anybody who’d overheard their conversation would assume the worst. “What did Raisa say? Did she believe Flinn?”

  “There’s more,” Cat said, like she enjoyed her role as the harbinger of doom. “That fool Flinn told them about the jinx-flingers. Queen Raisa didn’t want to believe him, but then, after he left, Captain Byrne brought up that flute player pendant you used to wear.”

  Han’s hand crept to his neckline, finding only the replacement talisman that Dancer ha
d made him. “What about it?”

  “Captain Byrne found it in Ragmarket, with one of the bodies. He said he knew whose it was, and Raisa did too, so—”

  “Wait a minute!” Han put up his hand. “He found it in Ragmarket? How’d it get there?”

  “I figured you must’ve dropped it when you did the wizard,” Cat said matter-of-factly. “Anyway, so Captain Byrne, he—”

  “When I did the wizard?” Han sat back on his heels, dumbfounded. “You think I’m the one that’s been killing wizards?”

  His voice had been rising with each new revelation, and by now he was practically shouting. Dog scrambled to his feet, hackles raised, and growled at Cat.

  Cat blinked at Han. “You saying you’re not?”

  “I’m saying I’m not,” Han said, horrified. “Why would you think that?”

  “Well, we didn’t know for sure, but whoever did them was as slick as vapor and rum smart, which fits. And you had reason to hush wizards ’cause of what happened to Mam and Mari and the Raggers. Plus, you’ve been out in the streets every night.…” Cat trailed off under a glare from Dancer.

  “Hunts Alone wouldn’t ambush people in the streets,” Willo said. “You should know that.”

  “Maybe Hunts Alone wouldn’t, but Cuffs Alister would,” Cat said defensively.

  “You all thought I did it?” Han said. “You were covering up for me?”

  Cat shrugged. “Well, me and Sarie and Flinn, anyway, who knew you from before.”

  “So when Flinn said I was behind the murders, he thought it was true,” Han muttered.

  Cat rushed on, as if eager to explain. “I mean, even at the time we didn’t think it made sense, putting your gang sign on them and all. And at least you should’ve tossed them, to make it look like a robbery. We wondered if you wanted to get caught on purpose—to make a point.”

  “It sounds to me like someone else was trying to make it look like it was Hunts Alone,” Dancer said.