Shadow and Thorn

by Kenley Davidson

  For once, he neither flinched nor glared at the reminder. “Then yes, until Porfiry crossed my path. I was reminded of my responsibility, and a past I had resolutely set behind me. I thought…”

  “You thought if you did that one thing, it might absolve your guilt.”

  “Yes.” He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “But no one has been content with my quest for expiation. They want more. They want to resurrect the lost crown of a country that no longer exists. They want to see me as the answer to their pleas for salvation.”

  “And you started to think, maybe you could do it. Maybe this was your destiny. Maybe you really could live up to the expectations of your youth. Until you got here and I was in your way.”

  Alexei turned and rested a hand on the casement as he peered out through the grimy diamond panes. “I begin to think I’m rather glad you were. No good would have come of me accepting that burden in an attempt to absolve myself. I would have grown to resent it, and my people with it.”

  “Whereas now all you have to resent is me?” Zara couldn’t help her sarcasm. Alexei was congratulating himself for having escaped what she was stuck with. “And when you’ve found your rose and saved the day you can leave again, because you’ve done your duty and there’s no further need of you?”

  “No.” He seemed curiously reluctant to elaborate.

  “What then? What’s going to happen when the threat is gone and you’ve done what you came for? What of your companions? Will they leave when they find out you’re not going to be the king they hoped?”

  She hadn’t meant to bring it up. Hadn’t meant to be so petty in the face of what was coming. But she couldn’t help being afraid. She didn’t want to be alone again.

  “We won’t leave you here alone.”

  How could a man so comprehensively frustrating manage to read her mind so accurately?

  “There will be much to be done,” he continued. “I’m never going to be the man my instructors hoped I would be, nor the king my companions want me to be. Too much time has passed, and my skills have all but died, just as I have. But I don’t have to be that. I’m done hiding from life simply because I cannot fulfill everyone’s expectations.”

  “Is that why you stayed away?”

  “Possibly. But I do not intend to leave again.” He turned back and put his hands on his hips. “And being irritating will not be enough to change my mind, so don’t get any ideas.”

  “Perish the thought,” she replied solemnly. “I’m irritating by nature. It really has nothing to do with you.”

  There turned out to be no need for pushing anyone down the stairs. Zara went to sleep by the kitchen fire and dreamed of the soaring entry hall, bedecked in splendor, with herself standing over the great seal, wearing yet another elaborate costume.

  “You have heard about the army, I believe.” Athven was beginning to take on more human mannerisms, and this time she was tapping a toe on the stone floor.

  “Yes,” Zara answered carefully. “What do you know of them?”

  “Little,” Athven announced, “but that they are mundane. The only magic in their ranks belongs to the Bright One and the Betrayer.”

  “We have made a plan…” Zara began, but the avatar interrupted her impatiently.

  “I have a better one,” she asserted. “The enemy will be allowed to enter. I wish for the Betrayer to bring the Rose to light. And I have decided that you were right about the son of Nar.”

  “I…what?” Zara did not quite follow. “What do you mean I was right?”

  “He will not suffice as a partner for you. Perhaps he is too old. And I do not think he would adapt well to the bond.”

  Or rather, Athven had realized he wouldn’t let her have everything her own way. Zara felt like saying something rude, but she needed Athven’s help, so all she said was, “Oh.” There was a sensation in her chest that felt like disappointment, but it couldn’t have been that. She wasn’t disappointed that she would not be forced to marry a man who irritated her beyond all reason. “So you have a new plan, or have you decided that I can meet your needs well enough?”

  “No, you most certainly cannot,” Athven scolded. “I need to expand the bond if I am to regain even a portion of my former strength. Whether you marry him I have decided to leave up to you. But I have determined that the Bright One will be a far better choice.”

  “WHAT?” Even in the dream, Zara’s shout echoed back from the cavernous ceiling. “You want to bond with an enemy?”

  “If he is bonded to me, he can no longer be an enemy,” Athven pointed out patiently. “He will be working for us, not against us.”

  “But… he’s a monster. Alexei has met him and almost died for it! Why would I want to be in the same room with him, let alone share our thoughts and feelings for the rest of our lives?”

  “Because he is strong, of course.” Athven acted as though Zara were quite dimwitted for asking. “Stronger, younger, and I believe he was described as beautiful, which ought to satisfy you. An altogether more suitable consort, should you choose to make it official.”

  “Well, I won’t,” Zara snapped. “And neither you nor anyone else can make me!”

  “Perhaps not,” Athven almost purred, “but I can certainly put the idea into his head as soon as he crosses my threshold. You are not an unattractive woman, when dressed appropriately, and he would be a fool not to recognize the value of what I could offer.”

  “Do not presume too far, Athven.” Zara glared at the avatar with all the heat she could muster. “I am not yours to be offered.”

  “And I cannot afford to be as finicky as you,” Athven sneered. “You cannot protect me so I must find another way. And this Bright One has more than enough strength to provide what I need.”

  “I won’t marry him,” Zara answered fiercely. “And I won’t agree to add him to our bond. You will have to do it against my will again, and you won’t get all the strength you were hoping for. And anyway, he may not want what you have to offer. What if all he wants is to keep the Rose for himself and leave with it?”

  “I am well able to protect the Rose, once it is found,” Athven said dryly. “He will not be allowed to steal it.”

  “It would serve you right if I were to simply walk away and condemn us both,” Zara told her, wishing the dream would allow her to stomp or scream, or otherwise give vent to her outrage and frustration. “You think you are so wise and all-seeing, but you don’t understand people at all.”

  “I understand them well enough to know that they cling to life with desperate strength, up until the moment they value something more. The only thing I have ever seen a human willing to die for is love, or whatever they mistake for that feeling, and as you are not in love, you are not going to throw your life away to spite me.”

  Zara wished she could throw the woman’s words back into her smugly serene countenance, but what she said was true. Zara did not, had never, loved anyone enough to place her life between them and death. And she had not yet despaired enough of the future to consider throwing herself away as the only possible means of escape.

  “True or not, I will not simply agree to be bait,” she told the avatar, as calmly as she could manage. She was old enough to have arguments without descending into threats and name calling. Even if those were far more soothing to her feelings. “You did not ask me if I wanted to bond with you, and as I had no part in choosing this fate, I reserve the right to choose whom I share it with.”

  “I have always permitted my bonded partners a high degree of autonomy,” Athven mused. “It seemed natural, given the mutuality of our relationship. But I have had many years to consider whether that was wise, given my age and the scope of my perception. Perhaps I could have prevented what occurred had I acted more as a guide and advisor than simply a protector.”

  Was that guilt? Or self-preservation? Either way, Zara felt a distinct chill. And a desperate need to escape.

  “Then you won’t help us?”

 
“You do yourself no favors when you persist in believing me your enemy, child,” Athven scolded. “I have no desires but to preserve the future, and you are my future. What I do, is done to protect your well-being and that of my people. You would do well to remember that and cease your efforts to thwart me.”

  “Or what?” Zara snapped, and then silently cursed her inability to keep her mouth shut.

  “I don’t understand.” Athven looked genuinely puzzled.

  “There’s usually a threat after a statement like that. I cease my efforts to undermine you or what? You’ll lock me in a tower like a cursed princess and hold a tournament for a brave knight to rescue me? Or you’ll arrange for me to have a convenient accident as soon as you’re strong enough to survive my death and bond with another?”

  “Of all my previous partners, you are the most difficult to reason with,” Athven fretted. “I cannot understand you. I will do what I must, yes, but we cannot be enemies.”

  “If we are not enemies, we must be true partners,” Zara insisted. “And we cannot be that when you insist on manipulating me for ‘my own good.’”

  “I would not need to manipulate you if you would simply listen.”

  “I am listening! What I hear is that you want to treat me like your possession. Something you can dress up and parade around and bestow at your whim. I will never be that.”

  “Someday you will understand,” Athven said sadly. “I do not wish to be at odds. Only to care for those I was created to serve.”

  “Look,” Zara snapped, “you aren’t going to convince me, so why don’t you let me sleep in peace while I can? There are enemies approaching and I would rather not be grumpy and sleep-deprived when they arrive.”

  “Never fear, child. I will ensure that you rest long enough to be refreshed.”

  “No!” Zara yelled louder than she meant and earned a repressive look from the avatar. “Don’t you see how wrong that is? Do not play god with me, Athven. I will sleep as I can and I will wake when I choose. People are not meant to be puppets or playthings.”

  Clearly frustrated, Athven snapped her a nod. “Very well. For now. But we will speak again soon, after the Betrayer and the Bright One have come. And we will visit my concerns again.” Her voice grew cold. “You wish not to be forced into a future not of your choosing, but do not think you have all the power of choice and refusal in our relationship. As one who is intimately affected by your decisions, I will not permit you to make those that threaten my own existence.”

  The avatar seemed to grow taller, and her shadow lengthened until she loomed over Zara nearly to the height of the first windows.

  Zara could feel herself begin to panic. The suffocating atmosphere of the vision began to press in on her as Athven’s words sank in and the avatar’s physical form grew large enough to crush her without even trying. She could sense her physical body respond to the fear, and she begged herself to wake up.

  “Calm yourself, child!” the avatar demanded, before her body began to shrink again, then hunch over and sprout fur. Zara’s finery faded and her hair tumbled around her shoulders and she screamed as the floor itself seemed to fall out from under her…

  “Zara?” The voice in her ear was not Athven’s. It was raspy with sleep and worry, though the arm that gripped her shoulders was strong. “Zara, please wake up. The walls are shaking again.”

  Her eyes snapped open, and a gasp of relief escaped her parched lips. The kitchen. The fire. A scarred hand resting on her arm. The vision was over.

  To her utter humiliation, tears began to flow down her cheeks. She was stronger than this. She did not cry, especially not in front of provoking men who already thought her weak. But the tears did not ebb and the solid presence behind her did not waver.

  He had lifted her, somehow, and her back rested against his chest, with one arm wrapped around her shoulders. It should have felt confining, but Zara was too tired and afraid to feel anything but relief at not being alone.

  “I take it Athven deigned to speak with you despite your forbearance in the face of many stairs.”

  She had not thought Alexei possessed the capacity for sympathetic humor. “Athven chose to instruct me in her wishes,” she croaked.

  Movement from the corner of her eye became Silvay, holding a cup of water, which Zara accepted gratefully. She became aware, then, of the others settling back into their blankets, and wondered how bad it had been that she had awakened everyone. “Did I scream?” she asked miserably.

  “No.” Alexei’s voice sounded deeper from behind her head. “You cried out, and the castle began to shake again. We wondered at first whether the army was at the gates already, but the shaking quieted as soon as you awoke.”

  “I made Athven angry,” she confessed, reaching up to brush the tears from her cheeks. “But she frightened me… I do not know how to fight her.” The pressure of his arm around her shoulders seemed to tighten fractionally in response.

  “What did she say to you?” His voice was neutral and calming, so she answered, hesitating only a little.

  “She… She has her own plans. She agrees that Porfiry and his prince should be allowed to enter, but…” Zara suddenly found that she couldn’t say the next part. Couldn’t tell Alexei that Athven had rejected him. Worse, that she had rejected him in favor of another foreigner, and one who had almost killed him. “She has decided that she needs to take a more active role in making decisions. That she is older, wiser, and therefore more qualified. She threatened to force my decisions, to use me as bait.” More tears filled her eyes. “I am no more than a thing to her. A means to her ends. I don’t know what she can force me to do and it terrifies me.”

  “I am sorry.” The genuine compassion in Alexei’s words caught her entirely off guard. “Sorry that you have been forced to endure this. Sorry that you have become the victim of our pride.”

  “You did not do this.” Zara felt an inexplicable need to defend him from his own accusations.

  He only sighed, his chest rising and falling beneath her shoulders. “My people did. We thought ourselves strong and we thought ourselves wise and we fed magic into these stones in our desire to create something that would last. We may have created something monstrous instead.”

  Silvay held a finger to her lips. “Caution,” she whispered.

  And she was right. If Athven got the impression they had all turned against her, there was no predicting what she might do.

  Almost reluctantly, Zara sat up and Alexei released his arm, supporting her weight until she was able to sit upright without wavering. He rose and moved around into her field of vision before kneeling in front of her to look seriously into her eyes. Zara almost couldn’t hold his gaze.

  “Believe that we are with you,” he told her, one scarred hand reaching out to grip hers where it rested on the blankets. “The enemy that is coming will try to divide us and turn us against one another if he can. I believe Athven will protect you from the worst of what he is, but remember, if you remember nothing else, that I am not your enemy. Athven cannot force you to deny your nature or your convictions. I will not willingly leave this place while you are forced to remain, nor will I make a choice that tightens your bonds.” He grimaced, his scars pulling at the right side of his face. “I have not always been kind, but I hope I have been honest. I have come to admire your courage and your strength, and while I believe you would be a queen all of Erath would be proud to claim, I will also fight for your freedom if that is what you wish.”

  More tears? Zara fought to hold them back, but a few escaped in spite of her. “I don’t deserve that,” she whispered.

  “Deserving or undeserving has nothing to do with this, though I disagree with you. I am not free to choose who to treat with honor and dignity based on whether or not I feel they deserve it, though I am guilty of having done so when we met and I owe you an apology for my actions. Gulver does not choose who to heal based on whether they deserve it. I choose this now because it is right. And whether Athven
stands or falls changes nothing. There is no victory in sacrificing so much as a single person to regain what we had.”

  “Unless that person chooses the sacrifice themselves.” Zara was proud that her voice did not shake.

  “That person should know what she is choosing and choose it freely,” he argued, his lips twisting as though with a particularly unpleasant thought. “But either way, do not commit the error of believing Athven to be all-powerful or infallible. This battle is not lost. We who are here with you are not without our own strengths.”

  “Yes, as I became aware when you set yourself on fire,” she replied dryly.

  “If I had known it would impress you so much, perhaps I would have done it sooner,” he joked.

  Zara’s jaw dropped. “That’s twice now you have deliberately said something humorous,” she accused. “Did Malichai feed us something spoiled for dinner or are you so lacking in sleep?”

  “Perhaps I’m making up for a lifetime of being too serious. Or, perhaps you are a bad influence.” He shrugged. “If it bothers you that much, I might consider cultivating the skill.”

  Her lips lifted into a smile, in spite of her dark mood, and his answered. He didn’t smile often enough. Possibly his scars made it difficult, but the expression seemed all the more endearing to her for its imperfections.

  “So are we going back to sleep or what?” Silvay grumbled. “I don’t like to be the curmudgeon, but tomorrow may not be restful and some of us are old.”

  “Silvay, you like to pretend, but I doubt you are any older than I am,” Alexei responded, rising to his feet and shooting her an amused glance.

  “I may not be much older in years,” she retorted tartly, “but I am infinitely older in wisdom, and don’t you forget it.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” Zara said honestly. “I might go for a walk.” She couldn’t suppress a tiny shiver, thinking of walking alone through the dark castle.

  “Do you wish to be alone, or would you prefer company?” Alexei asked, startling her again with his perception.