“To become a nation unlike any other, past or present.” Again, Relin looked like a proud schoolboy.
But Konner’s gaze remained on Camalyn. “It’s time to grow our nation, just as we’ve always planned.”
Camalyn had known they were headed in this direction. She was excited to see Cormina grow in wealth, size, and power. But she certainly hadn’t expected Konner to act so soon. She was about to say as much when a knock sounded at the door.
“Tea,” a servant called.
“And cookies, I hope!” Relin responded.
After a pause, the servant called from behind the still-closed door, “Ah, yes. Cookies as well, Your Majesty.”
“Come,” Camalyn said.
The door swung open, and the servant entered with a tray. She looked around, and Konner pointed at the end table next to Camalyn’s couch. “Right there will be fine.”
The servant set the tray down. “Shall I serve the tea, Your Majesty?” she asked Camalyn.
“No, you may leave it here.”
The servant exited. Camalyn took a piece of candied ginger from the tray and placed it in her mouth, hoping it would settle her stomach. It never actually worked, but at least it didn’t make things worse. She poured tea and passed it out after placing one cookie on Konner’s saucer and three on Relin’s.
“Where were we?” Konner asked.
Camalyn was certain he knew exactly where they’d left off, but she decided to play his little game. “You were about to tell us which country you think we should invade with our disorganized army.”
Konner responded, “You sound anxious. That’s not healthy for the baby.”
Camalyn’s hand went to her abdomen, and she cursed herself for the action. “Just tell us what you came here for. We’re tired.”
He pointed at a small country whose short eastern edge ran along Cormina’s western border. It wasn’t too far from The Meadow. “Pellagi,” he said. “The whole nation is only host to about a hundred thousand people, and they are begging for strong leadership.”
“Are they?” Camalyn asked. “I hadn’t heard that. Perhaps they sent an envoy telling us of their desperate desire to find such leadership? They must have arrived on the one day I didn’t make it to the palace.”
“Don’t be sarcastic; it’s so crass,” Konner snapped. “They haven’t sent an envoy. You’ll notice no one has, not even to congratulate the two of you.”
“That’s true,” Relin said. “Why not?”
“They’re probably all waiting to see what kind of rulers we’ll be,” Camalyn said. “They don’t want to be the first to befriend us if we end up doing something stupid.”
“It doesn’t matter why they haven’t come, and we aren’t going to do anything stupid.” Konner’s patience was clearly wearing thin. “What matters is that, in refusing to send a peace delegation, they are being blatantly aggressive. We have every right to defend ourselves.”
Camalyn laughed. Relin’s eyes shifted between her and Konner. He had a half-smile on his face, like he was trying to determine if he should join in the merriment. He looked relieved when her laughter died out. “I’m sure that will go over well,” she said. “In response to being ignored, we’ll attempt to steal their country.”
“Negativity does not become you, Queen!” Konner’s fist slammed down on the map. His tea sloshed, creating a small stain on the two-dimensional ocean. “It doesn’t matter whether it goes over well! Pellagi doesn’t have an army; none of these places do! They’re all as lost and hopeless as we were until recently, and in time, they’ll see we’ve done them a favor by showing them a better way!”
“Konner, listen to me.” Camalyn kept her voice level, and Konner responded by taking and releasing a deep breath through his nose. “I take no issue with your desire to expand our kingdom. You haven’t made a secret of your long-term plans; do you think I would’ve insisted on being queen if I hadn’t agreed with them?”
Konner responded only with raised eyebrows.
Camalyn continued, “I do, however, take issue with the timing. Why now?”
“You really think we’d go now?” Konner’s features twisted with scorn. He gestured to the window, though it was covered in dark, thick drapes. “There’s snow on the ground, and judging from the storm in the mountains yesterday, there will be more, very soon. The army will train all winter and march in the spring.”
“That’s still just a year after the coronation. Our little army will never be ready by then, especially with its current leadership.”
“I think if our so-called ‘little army’ doesn’t act soon, neighboring countries may form their own big armies, and our job will become impossible.”
Camalyn looked at Relin, her eyes pleading with him to help her argue her case. He was listening closely to the conversation for once, and when her gaze caught his, he placed his teacup down. She felt a spark of hope.
Relin said, “If we take over Pellagi—”
“Annex,” Konner interrupted. “The proper term is ‘annex.’ “
“Oh, sure. If we annex Pellagi, will we have access to all their goods?”
“Of course.” Konner’s face relaxed, and he began telling Relin all about how Pellagi’s industries would improve the Corminian economy.
Relin was far too interested in Konner’s words, and Camalyn knew why. Her husband was enamored by Pellagi’s specialty goods: their shoe leather, which was unmatched in softness and strength; their silver, used to make gorgeous flasks and cufflinks; and Orrelio, the plum liqueur he would drink at every meal if she let him.
Camalyn lay on her couch again. One man in the room was hungry for power, and the other for pleasure. Neither of them wanted to wait until they were strong enough to grasp what they desired. This was a fight she had no hope of winning.
Chapter Twenty-One
I have loved the town of Oren since the day I moved here. Yet bits of my heart are still in my hometown. Other bits are in Tinawe, where I apprenticed. I wish that one day, everyone I love in those two places could come join me in this little place I call home. Yet even if such a thing happened, I would still miss those who have gone ahead into Senniet.
No home will ever include all the people I love. And so I learn to love the people who are near me, wherever I am.
-From Small-Town Cormina: A Midwife’s Reflections by Ellea Kariana
“Narre, this is incredible. I can’t believe you’ve gotten this much done in three days.” Tavi handed Narre a basket of bread, cheese, and water, then looked out at the vista beneath her. She was grateful for the lip Narre had put on the walkway. The steep drop-off still made her nervous, but now her stomach only tightened slightly, rather than her entire insides twisting like a pretzel. She squinted, looking at the city in the distance.
“I couldn’t do it without Ven,” Narre said, giving the young monk a smile. He didn’t see her expression, though; he was sitting on the floor of the walkway, gazing at the view, looking perfectly relaxed. Reba was next to him, and Ash stood beside them, leaning on his shovel.
“How are your hands holding up?” Tavi asked. As Narre worked each day, she repeatedly pressed her hands into the rock then slid them around, trying to find the best places to break the stone. It was rough on her skin.
Narre held them up. “They’re dry. Later tonight I may have more cracks for you to heal. I could have done this without ever touching the stone if I’d figured out how to throw my magic. I still don’t know how it’s so easy for you.”
“Well, I can only do it with my stride gift, and I can only ‘throw’ it through the ground. I don’t know how that girl at the Meadow made it look so easy.” Tavi gave her friend a hug. “I’m proud of you. But I’d better get back and let you work.”
“Thanks for the snacks,” Narre said. “We’re about to make a vertical shaft with a ladder carved from rock. Wish us luck!”
Narre’s Path, as they began calling it, took two weeks to construct. Before dawn on the day after it
was completed, the Golds bundled up, placed packs full of necessities on their backs, and gathered in the same room where they’d originally met with Bea. She was there, along with Tess and Ven.
“Bea,” Tavi said, “thank you. I can’t tell you how helpful it was to be here.”
Bea nodded. “Go stop them from hurting more people.”
Tavi gave the old monk a hug, then turned to gaze out the window, avoiding looking at Tess. She knew she’d cry when they said goodbye, and she wanted to postpone the emotion until the last second.
“I’d like to go with you.”
The quiet voice echoed in the silent room. Tavi stared, slack-jawed, at Ven. Nearly everyone else had the same response.
Ven reached down and picked up a small bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “I’d like to go with you,” he said again. “I’ve already packed.”
Next to Ven, Reba stood with her hand over her mouth, watching him, tears sliding down her cheeks.
Bea recovered from the shock first, striding to Ven and standing in front of him. “You know what this means.”
He nodded.
“We don’t know what it means,” Ash said.
“Monks can’t move away from the monastery,” Bea said. “I’ll have to release him from his vows.”
“Oh, right,” Ash said. “That’s why monks only marry other monks.”
Ven glanced at Reba, then back at Bea. “I understand.”
Bea looked around at the Golds. “Do you want him to come with you?”
The response was immediate, unanimous, and enthusiastic. Ven’s gift was invaluable.
“Very well,” Bea said. She placed one hand on Ven’s shoulder and the other on his head. “You are released.”
Tavi waited for her to say more, but apparently that was it. Bea stepped away and faced the Golds. “Thank you all for defending what’s right. Be safe, and may Sava go with you.”
They all picked up their bags, and Tavi forced herself to turn toward her sister. Tess was already crying. Tavi let her own tears come and rushed to Tess, arms open. They hugged even tighter than they had when Tavi arrived.
When their crying slowed, Tess held Tavi’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You’ve turned into a strong young woman, and I’m so proud of you,” she whispered. “Embrace your doubts, Tavi. But embrace the risks too. You don’t have to choose one or the other.”
Tavi nodded. “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
“I haven’t been able to write home,” Tavi said, trying not to sob again. “Not since we left Savala. Next time you write, tell them that ‘Ivat’ came as a pilgrim, that she’s safe, and that she misses them terribly.”
Tess laughed. “Shall I sign the letter as ‘Sset’?”
Smiling through her tears, Tavi said, “Sure.” For an entire summer when they were young, all the Malin children had said and spelled their names backward. It had been easy with names like Tavi’s. Misty and some of the other siblings hadn’t been so fond of the game. Tavi’s parents would remember that summer and understand what the message meant.
“Time to go,” Tess said. “Be careful, Tavi.”
Tavi gave her one last hug and followed the other Golds, including their newest member, Ven, out of the room. They exited the monastery and crossed the snowy courtyard, then walked through the gate. The other Golds had all stopped a few paces past the gate and were standing, facing the city. Tavi followed their gaze.
The sun was rising in the eastern sky, lighting up the low clouds with vibrant shades of yellow, red, and orange. The moment was filled with a certain joyful solemnity, and Tavi remembered what Tess had said about the magic of nature.
“From the lowest stone to the tallest spire, the city is lit with Sava’s fire,” Ven murmured. Tavi had never heard his poetry. It sounded like a prayer.
They all continued to watch as the sun rose higher, and the warm colors spread further with a stunning richness of tone Tavi had rarely seen in the sky. She tugged her eyes away and walked toward Narre’s Path, her boots crunching on the snow. “Come on,” she said over her shoulder. “The fire is waiting.”
Traveling along the magically hewn path was the easy part of the trip. When the slope lessened and the path ended, they all stopped, considering the ice and snow they’d have to trudge through to get down the rest of the mountain. After that came miles of forested land, much of it hilly, then a little bit of open land leading into Savala. Tavi was thankful for her pants, which she was still wearing, even though they were entering public society again.
Sall pointed. “We should get to that road. It looks pretty narrow, and it’ll be less likely to be patrolled by people who might recognize us.”
“Don’t worry, Sall, they’ll never recognize you,” Narre said.
They all laughed. The only Gray who’d ever met Sall was Camalyn, and that was for a brief conversation on Liberation Day. Apparently she didn’t recall what he looked like, because Benisa said the picture on his poster looked like a pre-adolescent boy who was prone to mischief. It was a running joke among the Golds.
They trudged through the trees, glad for Tullen’s uncanny sense of direction. Surely there was some sort of path nearby, but between the trees and the snow, it was hard to find.
They approached a drop-off that Tavi insisted qualified as a small cliff. Tullen and Ash, the tallest of the group, lowered themselves carefully down before helping the others descend.
Tavi stood at the back of the group, trying to decide which of the two men she should ask to help her. She was disgusted by the thought of Ash touching her. She wanted Tullen’s help, but she wasn’t sure how he would feel about it. He was certainly still her friend, but they didn’t seem to joke around as often. And ever since their encounter in the hallway outside Ven’s room, he’d completely avoided touching her. She didn’t understand what had changed.
At the last second, she approached Tullen. He didn’t look nervous; maybe he’d be fine with this.
“If you’ll sit on the edge with your feet dangling, I can grab your waist and lift you down,” Tullen said.
Tavi nodded. The others had lowered themselves backward over the bluff, with Tullen and Ash helping them get down safely. But Tavi was smaller than anyone else, and this would be easier. She did as Tullen had asked, and his hands reached up, grabbing her waist. In one sweeping motion, he lifted her down.
He hadn’t touched her in a month. To her horror, the feel of his hands on her waist brought back memories of him drawing her close, kissing her, holding her. Desire surged into her, and by the time her feet reached the ground, magic had filled every bit of her body. She was wearing gloves, a hat, a coat, and thick pants, but she knew the light was blazing out of her face, her eyes, her mouth. Quick as she could, she tensed her whole body then relaxed her muscles, shoving the magic out. Maybe Tullen hadn’t seen.
She risked a glance at his face, and her hope crashed into the snow at their feet. He’d definitely seen. But instead of the grin she would have expected from him at such a moment, his expression was dark with some emotion she found difficult to decipher. Perhaps sorrow. But why?
The strange look only lasted a moment before Tullen rearranged his face, giving her a closed-mouth smile. Then he seemed to realize he was still holding her waist, and he pulled his hands away like they’d been burned. “Well, I guess, uh . . . glad you’re safe,” he said. He turned away.
Tavi looked up at the others, expecting to see them walking off already. But they were waiting for her and Tullen, and she found a variety of expressions on their faces. Amusement. Pity. And in Ven’s case, curiosity.
“Let’s go,” Tullen said.
Everyone resumed their trek except Narre. She approached Tavi with a compassionate smile. “Sometimes we all lose control of our magic,” she said.
It was a silly statement; of all of them, Narre was the only one who almost never lost control. But she knew exactly what that glow had meant and why it had embarrassed Tavi s
o much. Tavi smiled at her friend, grateful for the words and the company.
They walked. And walked. And kept walking. Down the mountain, through the foothills, on back roads leading to the city, stopping only for brief breaks.
Deam had told them about an inn outside Savala where he hadn’t seen any posters of them. The place seemed seedy, he’d said, and he guessed no one there would turn them in even if they were recognized. To make it even better, it was close to the city entrance he’d suggested they use.
The inn finally came into view at dusk. The Golds were all exhausted, sweaty, and ready for hot food. They stopped under some trees near the building and sent Sall ahead to see about getting rooms.
With Sall gone, Tavi examined the inn. It was clearly a renovated barn, and she wondered if it smelled like one inside.
A few minutes later, Sall returned. “They’ve only got one room empty, and the owner said it’s tiny. It’ll never fit all of us. He said there’s a back room used for meetings. He’ll let us all stay there for ten chips. I talked him down to eight.”
They all agreed it would have to do, just for a night.
“Why don’t you all go in and get food?” Tullen suggested. “I need to connect with the people Deam told us about.”
They wished him luck. Tavi had no idea if Deam’s plan for them to enter the city would work, but Tullen was the most personable of them all. If anyone could make it happen, he could.
He waved and walked off. Tavi watched him as he left, his figure growing smaller. When she realized the others were halfway across the inn’s yard, she jogged to catch up.
Chapter Twenty-Two
If you choose to train those whose gifts have not yet awakened, be prepared for many unanswerable questions. They will ask you when their gifts will awaken, what skills they may develop, and under what circumstances Sava will allow them to use their gifts. As they grow older, these sun-blessed children will learn what we all know: At the core of magic, and at the core of life itself, lies uncertainty.
Facing the Fire Page 20
