“Dorian!” It was all I could keep managing to say. Assured of my footing, I ran over to him and threw my arms around him. He returned the hug as best he could while still managing to support himself in the doorway.
“Why, Eugenie. Once again, I almost think you’re happy to see me. Surely you didn’t expect me to let you keep being the hero, did you? You’ve saved me far too many times. I needed to pull my share.”
I was so happy he was alive and mostly well that I still struggled to say anything coherent. I carefully disentangled myself from him. “I don’t know what to do,” I laughed. “I feel like I should cry or slap you.”
He grimaced. “Neither, please. If you like, I’ll provide you with several other more acceptable alternatives for later. But first ... I believe we have a blight to deal with.”
Dorian stretched out his hand, and the marble bust floated to him, compelled by his power over stone and earth. He held the bust in his hands and gazed admiringly at himself. “Such a fetching likeness, isn’t it?”
And with that, he hurled the bust to the tiled floor. The marble sculpture smashed into a hundred fragments and shards. Far away in the Otherworld, the Oak Land woke up.
Chapter 23
It didn’t take long for the Yew Land to be claimed. The same magic users that had aided Varia with the blight were all quick to scramble and seize a piece of her former land. As a result, the kingdom ended up reshifting into three smaller kingdoms. I’d been told that was possible in the Otherworld, but I’d never seen it happen. The three kingdoms shaped themselves to their new masters, becoming the Cork Land, the Cottonwood Land, and the Hickory Land. The Yew Land was no more.
Despite their involvement in Varia’s schemes, the new monarchs—two queens and one king—were quick to make pledges of peace and friendship to my party and the Hemlock contingent. These offers were legitimate, unlike Varia’s absurd “friendly” offer. The new monarchs were concerned with consolidating their power and establishing a rule. Alliances were far more beneficial than conquests.
The new monarchs would’ve hosted us for a while, but my group was anxious to return to our own lands and begin the healing there. We declined all the offers, promising to send ambassadors soon to set up trade agreements and treaties. Considering it might take a while before food production was back up in my kingdoms, this was actually a pretty solid plan.
Before we left, however, I had a very interesting conversation with Magia, the newly crowned Hickory Queen. As someone born and raised in the Yew Land, she was well versed in its history and legends.
“Of course I know about Volusian, Slayer of Souls,” she told me.
Dorian was with me, sitting with Magia in an inn that she’d made her headquarters until a castle could be built. I exchanged surprised glances with him.
“Slayer of Souls?” I asked.
“Definitely an impressive title,” mused Dorian. “I might start calling myself that.” He looked tired but had recovered by leaps and bounds, thanks to Alistir and a healer lent to us by Hadic of the Hemlock Land.
“I admit,” Magia added, “that I thought most of it was legend. According to the stories, Volusian was one of Onya’s most trusted advisers.”
“Onya?” Moments later, I remembered the portrait I’d seen in the throne room, depicting a queen of the same name and her two daughters.
Magia nodded. “Onya the Magnificent. Ganene’s mother. Varia’s grandmother. One of the Yew Land’s most powerful leaders. Their whole family was powerful. It was how they were able to keep passing the land down through the generations.”
“Remarkable,” Dorian agreed. I’d learned enough to know that lineage didn’t affect who controlled Otherworldly kingdoms. Power did. Monarchs certainly wanted their children to inherit, but many times, those offspring simply weren’t strong enough to claim the land.
“Onya had a younger daughter, Nissa the Fair.” I remembered the pretty girl in the painting and wondered if this use of nicknames was a Yew custom or simply a product of that era. I wondered also if history would remember me as Eugenie the Badass. “Nissa didn’t possess nearly the power of her sister and mother, but she was beautiful and kind and loved by many—including Volusian.”
I stared in disbelief. “Volusian—in love?” I think that was more unbelievable to me than any of the crazy acts of magic I had witnessed in the Otherworld.
“He was alive back then,” Dorian reminded me. “Not an undead creature forced to wander the worlds without peace. I imagine that would change a person.”
“Nissa loved him too, even though he wasn’t of the same rank,” continued Magia. “Onya didn’t approve, but she valued him and desperately needed his powers in a war she was waging with a neighboring kingdom. She and Ganene came up with a plan to convince the couple that they could marry after the war, once Volusian had helped lead Onya’s forces to victory. It was all a lie, though, and while he was gone, Ganene and Onya forcibly made Nissa marry a king that they were hoping to secure as an ally. Shortly after the wedding, Nissa committed suicide.”
I was totally hooked now and had nearly forgotten that Volusian—my Volusian—was the hero of this tale. It was rapidly taking on the status of a Shakespearean tragedy.
“Volusian returned to find not only that his betrothed had been given to another man but that she was dead. He was so enraged that he turned to the dark arts and ended up aiding Onya’s enemies. They brought a level of horror and devastation to the Yew Land without compare.”
Thinking of the blight, I questioned that. Of course, Volusian couldn’t have earned the “Slayer of Souls” title without doing some pretty awful things.
Magia’s eyes grew thoughtful. “It’s almost certain the Yew Land would have been completely destroyed, but Onya and Ganene were finally able to trap and capture Volusian. They decided simple execution wasn’t a great enough punishment for what he had done, and so he was killed and cursed into the state you found him. Without his assistance, the Yew Land’s enemies backed off and made peace.”
“Well,” I said, still a bit stunned, “that certainly explains why he hated the Yew Land and Varia so much. I can’t say I approve of his actions, but it is a little sad that in the end, Onya’s line defeated him after all.”
“I don’t know about that. Varia met her end,” Dorian pointed out. “Surely that will give him some peace in the Underworld.” Dorian sighed. “That really was an inelegant way to kill her. That’s what happens when you act in the heat of passion.”
It may have been inelegant, but it had most certainly saved my life. I didn’t know how long it would have taken him and the others to subdue Varia through other means, and the odds were good that she might have really made our heads explode. I was happy to be alive and have Dorian err on the side of crudeness in accomplishing the task.
In some ways, the journey home felt longer than the initial one. The conditions were much better—and actually made for faster travel—but we were all anxious and impatient to see how our kingdoms had recovered. Traveling through the blighted lands we’d passed before was actually pretty inspiring. Most had returned to their initial temperatures, facilitating the melting of snow. Of course, that offered another set of problems. Mud and floods became commonplace, and the food situation couldn’t be remedied overnight. When we passed through the Palm Land, I looked at the giant trees with regret. The blight’s end wouldn’t bring them back to life.
“Those won’t grow back anytime soon,” I murmured regretfully.
“But they’ll grow back faster than you think,” said Kiyo. “Remember where you’re at.”
Around the eighth day of travel, the road shifted and brought us into the Rowan Land. The land sang to me, its energy radiating out to me in a palpable wave that brought me to a halt. I gasped, overwhelmed by that force and life pouring into me. I jumped off the horse and ran off the road, falling to my knees on the muddy ground. I sank my fingers into it, closing my eyes in ecstasy as I felt the land’s welcome.
/> I breathed in the air around me, which was back to its typically mild temperature. There was an overwhelming scent of water and dirt, but as a light breeze ruffled my hair, I sensed something else ... the promise of growth and new life. Opening my eyes, I saw little but a dark, muddy landscape, but I could tell the plants and trees were on the verge of making their comeback. Kiyo had been right. I had to remember which world I was in.
I got to my feet and found the rest of my companions watching me indulgently. Dorian even had a wistful look on his face, no doubt yearning for his own land. “It’s recovering,” I said. “Slowly but surely.”
“What do you want to do?” asked Rurik. “Cut across country or follow the road?”
I understood what he was asking. In the Otherworld’s bizarre layout, it would take us longer to turn off into the Rowan Land and reach my castle. The road would be shorter but would crisscross through other kingdoms. I admit, I just wanted to lose myself in this land but opted for practicality instead.
“We’ll stick to the road,” I said. “I want to see the Thorn Land if I can.”
It was early evening, and we’d have to camp soon, even though all of us were eager to push forward. We traveled as long as the light allowed and finally made camp just over the border of the Oak Land, much to Dorian’s delight. As was the case with me, this wasn’t an ideal spot from which to go to his castle, so he was content to stay overnight with us.
Honestly, I think it was enough for him just to be home again. I’d never seen him so entranced by something. Usually he was always watching the people around him, always on top of whatever plots were developing. Now, he had eyes only for the land. He paced around, examining the dirt and touching the trees. Whenever he walked away, I saw shoots and buds on the trees. He and I had taken to having bedtime talks near the fire, but I left him alone tonight.
Kiyo sat beside me as I unfolded my bedroll. “I’ll likely be leaving tomorrow,” he told me. “We should reach the Willow Land.”
“I’m kind of surprised you haven’t tried to kill me, now that we’ve ended the blight,” I remarked lightly.
He sighed. “You’re not the problem anymore, Eugenie. You know that.”
“Neither are my children.”
The end of the blight had allowed me to hope I might be seeing Isaac and Ivy soon. Nearly a month had passed, which was huge for infants their age. So much could change, and I yearned to hurry back before I missed much more. After the way Kiyo and I had worked together in the Yew Land, I’d kind of hoped things might improve between us. I hadn’t forgiven him, but it had seemed like we had the potential to establish some sort of civility now. Apparently not.
“Is there anything at all that would change your mind?” Kiyo asked. “Anything at all to convince you of the danger he represents?”
“Is there anything that would convince you that your son is a real person with the right to live and not some pawn of destiny?” I returned.
He frowned and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “We won’t stop looking for them, you know.”
“You’ll be looking forever,” I said.
Kiyo said no more and left me. Thinking back to when he’d been ensnared by dryads, I couldn’t help but again see Jasmine and Keeli’s reasoning about letting him die. It really would’ve made things simpler. He was Maiwenn’s main contact in the human world. Her search wouldn’t get far without him.
The next day, he departed from our group, his fox form scurrying off across the muddy landscape of the Willow Land. All the recovering kingdoms had a similar appearance right now, but I knew they’d show their true natures soon.
Dorian and I split shortly thereafter in the Thorn Land. Even though the land’s song burned within me, I was reluctant to leave him. I suspected he felt the same way, though it was hard to tell with his poker face and gallantries.
“Well, here we are,” he declared. Alistir and Pagiel were by his side. “It’s time for me to go get my subjects out of trouble, I suppose. Thank you as always for a lovely time. You always arrange the best soirees.”
I smiled. “I try.”
“And I’ll try to come see you as soon as I can.”
That was unexpected. “I figured you wouldn’t want to leave your land for a while.”
“Oh, I don’t, but you and I still have a lot to discuss. Seeing as you’ll have twice as much work on your hands, it’ll be easier for me to come to you.” I caught his eye and wondered what exactly he wanted to discuss. Maiwenn and the twins were the obvious topic, but I got a sense there might be more.
Pagiel and Jasmine were equally formal in their parting, but I saw them watch each other longingly. Ah, young love. So much simpler than grown-up love.
Although, when I saw Shaya and Rurik’s reunion, I had to admit that was a pretty touching example of grown-up love. It had total movie-quality epicness, including them racing into each other’s arms. I tried not to watch, but it was kind of hard not to. I even felt a little misty-eyed, and this time, I couldn’t blame it on hormones since I was well over those.
Thinking of hormones again brought Isaac and Ivy to mind. I still wanted to go to them, but one look at the state of my kingdoms told me I’d be here for a while. At the very least, I wanted to let Roland know everything had worked out ... but I had no means to, short of traveling to Tucson myself. I certainly didn’t miss Volusian’s biting personality or constant threats to kill me, but he’d had his uses in my service. After his story, I even felt slightly sympathetic. But only slightly. Ganene and Onya had wronged him, but he’d taken out his revenge on innocents. Why, I wondered, did this seem to be such a recurring theme among those I encountered?
One of the first things I did upon my return to my lands was start arranging those delegations to Varia’s freed kingdoms. We needed food badly, and our copper supply gave us an unharmed currency other blighted kingdoms weren’t lucky enough to have. After meeting the new monarchs, I knew there’d be no more price gouging either. Shaya excelled at organizing this sort of thing. She actually would’ve been a great choice to lead the groups, but I couldn’t bring myself to part her and Rurik so soon. I trusted her judgment to find others who were capable.
Along with the food shortage, we simply had to deal with the aftermath of the blight’s devastation. People were sick. Homes and other structures were damaged. And despite how much we could repair, nothing could make up for the loss of life. Both kingdoms’ populations had suffered, meaning we had less help to rebuild. It was disheartening some days.
Along with the lands’ natural magic, I also discovered I could speed along the healing and regrowth. Just as I’d seen Dorian healing his oaks, I was able to coax the plants and trees of my kingdoms to grow again. Most of my efforts were focused on the Rowan Land, which contained more food-bearing plant life. In particular, I worked on the cherry trees since they were so plentiful. I sped them through their leaf and flowering phases, and after a few weeks, we began to see the first signs of fruit. Cherries weren’t exactly the most filling food, but they were welcome to everyone after what we’d endured.
Even though the Thorn Land wasn’t a priority for food production, I still worked to restore some of the plants and trees there. It brought hope to the land’s residents, who had gotten used to their desert kingdom. Each flower that bloomed on a cactus was a sign that we were on our way to recovery, and the land radiated its gratitude to me.
Healing the vegetation wasn’t easy or fast. I often had to spend a lot of alone time with one tree or plant, and then frequent visits were required to keep aiding each step in the process. One day, I was sitting in an orchard near the Rowan castle, painstakingly encouraging each tree to grow its fruit. The day was sunny, and the grass—which had returned quickly—was green and lush beneath me. There was less birdsong than there used to be, which was a little weird. The animals had been hit as hard as the people, but many assured me that within a year, we could expect our furry and feathered countrymen to replenish their numbers.
; I rested my hand on the bark of a cherry tree, my eyes closed. I felt the pulse of the tree’s life and tried to join it with both myself and the land so that we could lend the tree our strength. A thump in the grass beside me snapped me out of my trance, and I looked down to see a bright red apple in the grass beside me. I smiled and picked it up.
“This isn’t one of mine,” I said as a familiar shadow fell over me.
Dorian eased himself down beside me, sitting cross-legged. He carried an apple of his own and bit into it. He swallowed and smiled back at me. “Our second harvest. I would’ve brought you some from the first, but we needed them too badly.”
“You should’ve kept these too.” I bit into the apple. It was delicious. “Second, huh? I’m behind.”
He glanced up at the cherry tree. “You seem to be doing just fine. Besides, you’ve also had to do twice as much work as me, remember? You’re not overtiring yourself, are you?”
I leaned back in the grass and swallowed another bite of apple. “Nothing I can’t handle. After that crazy journey to the Yew Land, hanging out here with trees all day feels downright lazy.”
Dorian stretched out beside me so that our shoulders touched. “Do you have plans to go back to the human world? I know you must be burning to.”
“I am,” I admitted. “We’re pushing two months. Two months, Dorian! Isaac and Ivy have to be out of the NICU now. I need them to know who I am. And I need Roland to know I’m okay too. I’m nearing a point where the lands will be okay without me, but then ... well, I’m not sure of my next move. When I last saw Kiyo, he made it clear they weren’t giving up on preventing the prophecy.”
“I feel pretty confident that Maiwenn’s preoccupied with exactly the same kinds of tasks we are in restoring our lands,” he said.
Shadow Heir: A Dark Swan Novel#4 Page 30
