by Ben Alderson
"We will begin our procession at the palace gates and end in the main square in the lower city. The parchment explains everything. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask your tailors. They will be meeting you in your room when the midafternoon sun turns amber."
I considered Gallion, whose posture was stooped as he stood. Did he know about this already? His gaze suggested so.
“I shall see you this eve.” Queen Kathine took my hand in hers. “And please think about what I have told you. Think of the lives beyond this palace who rely on you to stay.”
She squeezed my hand for a moment then turned back to her throne, leaving Gallion and me to exit the room with more questions than we arrived with.
“I said she would not listen,” I whispered to Gallion.
It took him a beat to respond.
“And when have you started to listen to instructions and commands? Last time I checked, you had instincts far powerful than mere words a foreign Queen tells you.”
I halted, but Gallion kept walking. I needed to speak with Cristilia. Only she had the power to help, and I needed to do it before Hadrian’s time had run out.
*
NYAH SCOLDED ME for sneaking up on her. It was never my intention. As I walked through the many themed gardens behind the palace, I was deep in thought. So much so I didn't notice Nyah and Jasrov ahead until she called my name.
Bell barked, and I looked up. I caught Jasrov’s lightning movement of his hand as he dropped it from Nyah's. He busied himself with straightening the golden jacket and matching slacks while Nyah's cheeks bloomed the same color as her hair.
We shared awkward words of welcome and Nyah grasped a hold of the conversation and steered it away from the possibility of me asking what they were doing lost in the gardens. She was draped in a long, emerald cloak that covered the elaborate dress beneath. Her wild hair was pinned from her face with a silver circlet, highlighting her map of freckles across her face. Despite the stunning gown, I noticed a lump on her leg, which flashed iron as her skirt shifted. She would never be caught without a weapon.
"I thought you were with Gallion all day?" Nyah chirped, sparing Jasrov a glance.
"I have been," I replied, "but wanted some fresh air. My nose is clogged with the smells of mildew from the books. I thought I would clear my nose and mind with a walk."
"Well you have come to the right place," Jasrov added. "We have been through many, and they each are better than the other. See the rose bushes? One whiff of those and you will rid the smell of books as you wish."
“Yes, thanks.” I pined my next comment to Nyah. “I heard you didn’t get much sleep last night. I trust you are well rested now?”
I had never seen her so skittish before.
"Well... yes... where is Hadrian?" She thrusted her question at me, giving me an eye to stop. One of her brows twitched, which warned me to stop my teasing. It was clear Jasrov and Nyah were getting along just as I thought they would.
"No clue. It's not the first disappearing act since we arrived. Have you seen him today?" I asked, wringing my hands around the parchment Queen Kathine gave me.
Both Jasrov and Nyah shook their heads. They had not seen him since yesterday.
“Could you see if you can sense him?” I asked Nyah, who gladly agreed. Anything to take the attention of her and Jasrov.
Nyah's forehead creased as she focused her concentration.
“He is in the city. Because I haven’t been there myself, I can’t tell you exactly where he is. But I am sure he will be back soon,” she said.
What could he need there? I pushed the tingle of worry to the back of my mind and moved on.
"And, is he okay?"
"He is warm. Very warm. But unless I can touch him, I won't be able to check just what that means. And I have a feeling he doesn't want me prying anyway," Nyah said.
"You're right." Hadrian was private. If he knew I had asked Nyah to go poking around, he would not be happy.
“Did you hear Emaline was promoted to Nesta’s position?” Nyah added. I had also not seen Emaline since Queen Kathine asked her to remain after our audience, but it made sense. She was a born warrior. There was no one better for the position.
“I wondered what was keeping her occupied ,” I replied. " Emaline is a leader; it makes sense for Queen Kathine to promote her position. I still remember the soldier's admiration for her when you fought on the ship. Nesta would be proud."
“She left with some scouts this morning. Said she was looking for any sign of the Druid or his shadowbeings in the surrounding mountain range. With all the new refugees coming, she is worried it leaves them open to being attacked,” Jasrov said. "Knowing there are others to protect beyond the city fuels her need to help."
“Emaline is a protector above anything else. Having such an important role will help her deal with her grief, carrying on Nesta’s legacy,” Nyah continued.
“What about Illera?” I asked.
“She is with Emaline. Her choice. Did you not hear? She took it upon herself to tell the Queen the truth and offered her services to help. It turns out Queen Kathine was excited about having a shifter as part of the scouting team.” As Nyah explained what happened, we walked beneath a row of arched trees. They grew on either side of the path and towered above us, branches and twigs locked together in a reaching embrace.
“She really wants to prove herself,” Jasrov said. “To prove to us that she can be trusted.”
“I would tell you if she couldn’t be trusted,” Nyah stated.
“I don’t doubt it,” I added, staring ahead at the cascading waterfall which dusts mist of water across the lush bed of grass.
"She seems to be more comfortable staying close to Emaline. And we will seem them during the festival tonight, hence the dress code." Nyah signaled to what she wore, picking the skirt from the grass bed and twisting it around.
“You have reminded me. I have been told to meet the tailors back in my room. I just hope Hadrian returns in time for his fitting. I haven’t spoken to him for a while, and I don’t even know if news has reached him about tonight’s festivities.”
Jasrov scooped Bell into her arms. “I can send Bell to find him?”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. It might teach Hadrian to stop running off if he finds out he is late for something. Plus, do you think he would turn down the opportunity to get dressed up and parade around the city?”
Nyah laughed. "Well said. He will not miss that for anything."
“Is it just me or does this celebration seem strange? With the Druid still out on the loose..." Jasrov face clouded with concern.
Nyah pulled at the long sleeves of her dress and held the cloak tighter. Although the snow had melted to a point, the sky still throbbed above, threatening more. “The entire reason behind tonight is to remind the city and its people that they are safe no matter what happens in the coming days, weeks or hours. The Dragori’s presence is going to help return some normality to the people of Lilioira.”
If it helped instill calm for some, it was worth it. It was more the request that was written on the parchment Queen Kathine gave me that made me uneasy.
*
I WAS MORE than surprised to see Cristilia pacing before my bedroom door when I arrived. Her hands were clasped before her, and her usual neat façade was no longer present. Her hair frayed out of its rushed bun; her clothes seemed disheveled and unkempt.
When she spotted me, she ran over, encasing me in a hug that lasted longer than it should have. Her thin frame felt as if it would snap in my arms.
“My dear, I am so relieved to see you back,” she panted, holding close to her wiry frame. “I am sorry I have been absent since you arrived, but I have been overwhelmed with the task of preparing for tonight’s festivities and other tasks. Being the last remaining council member, all tasks have been placed in my arms. Rowan did pass on your message, and I came as soon as I could.”
“I’m just glad to see you," I said, pulli
ng away from her. “I was beginning to worry you would not find me.”
Her dull eyes looked me up and down. “I hear you have been through a lot.”
“You could say that,” I replied. “And you too.”
I could not imagine how the attack at Kandilin affected her.
Cristilia dropped my gaze for a moment. “Many have been sacrificed, spoils of a war to come. It will not be the first nor last. I am certain of it.”
“We failed,” I muttered, unable to keep up the small talk any more. “The Staff, it’s still out there. So many have died while we, the supposed protectors, have wasted time.”
Cristilia took my hand and pulled me to the end of the corridor. Ahead of us was a bench, the back made from knotted slates of wood that threaded over each other. We sat down beside each other, Cristilia’s hand still in mine.
“You must not allow yourself to believe in those poisonous thoughts,” she replied. “You found the Keeper, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
Cristilia raised a hand, stifling my reply. “And you were shown the location of the Staff?”
I nodded.
“Then why have you given up?” she questioned.
I placed my head in my hands, frustration boiling my blood.
“Do not give up. You know what will happen if you do not find the Staff.” There was serious panic in Cristilia’s voice. It spiked my own worry.
“Queen Kathine has made it clear that she does not want us to leave. And maybe she is right. What if the Druid attacks again and we are not here to protect the city?”
Queen Kathine's comments about the protection of her people had taken root deep in my consciousness. Even if I wanted to leave, the weight of the many that relied on us was heavy on my heart and mind.
“You must ask yourself what you find most important,” Cristilia mumbled, her lips stained purple from the cold. "Prince Hadrian has been different, has he not?"
"Yes," I agreed. "He has not told me, but I have felt it. Seen the pain cross his face when he uses his magick. And he has been absent since we arrived here. Something is brewing within him. It scares me."
“You hold great love for the Prince. So much so that you are consumed with the thoughts of leaving yourself, even if you have not truly decided. You know as well as I that the longer the Prince is consumed by his Heartfire, the weaker he will become. Even if he does not admit it.” Cristilia shifted in her seat until she faced me. “There will come a time when you will decide what you are going to do. Stay in Lilioira or leave for the Staff. Only you can decide what is most important.”
“You think I should go and retrieve it myself?” I picked up on what she was suggesting.
“What I think you should do is follow your own instincts, not those of others.” She leaned in, echoing what Gallion had suggested earlier. “Do not let Queen Kathine hear what I tell you. She would not be happy her only remaining council member is going against the direct orders she has bestowed upon you.”
A gentle hand rested on my shoulder. “Take time to truly think about what it is you feel is most relevant. Staying in Lilioira and waiting for the Druid to come, or going after the Staff before it is too late for Hadrian? How will the Dragori protect the people in this city if one is soul lost?”
"Even if I leave, I have no idea where the remaining dwelling is,” I admitted.
"Do not give up." Cristilia’s smile faded. “If it was the other way around, would Hadrian give up on you? I must leave. I still have many tasks to complete before this evening. Perhaps I will see you during the procession…” She bowed her head and showed her teeth through a smile.
“I hope our talk has helped you somewhat.”
In part, it had helped, but I also felt more conflicted with my choices than I had before.
“But…”
Cristilia didn't let me finish. She bowed and slipped around the corner in a rush.
I was left alone for a moment before the sound of footsteps pounded in the distance. I thought it was Cristilia returning until I looked up to see Nyah. Her face was ruby, and a dagger was held out to her side. I raised my hands as I walked to her. “Nyah, what’s with the silverware…”
“Are… you… okay? I thought someone was trying to hurt you—I came as soon as I could!” Nyah replied, her voice rough and words frantic.
She lowered the dagger when she saw I was alone.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but something was off. I couldn’t work it out; I thought it was one of those creatures the Druid makes, a void of thoughts and emotions. Who was with you, Zac?”
“Cristilia. That was it!”
Nyah looked stunned. She pushed the cloak out of the way and slipped the dagger back into its holder around her thigh “Odd. I haven’t felt anything like that before. I know I can’t read her, maybe that is what it was.”
In the commotion, someone opened my door.
"Tiv heard shouting." Tiv poked his round, milky face around the door. "You're late. Quick, quick, come inside."
He soon ushered me into my room, but Nyah didn’t leave my side, not until she was satisfied the two tailors and little Tiv were not a threat.
Something was off about her reaction. I tasted her anxiety; it coated the back of my throat. But soon the thoughts of Soul Lost overwhelmed any other thought, and I was a prisoner to my own worries.
THE LONGER I held my arms up, the more they ached. Now and then, the more nervous tailor of the two would push a needle too far into the material wrapped around my arm, and it would prick into my skin. My bottom lip was a mess of rips as I bit into them to stifle my cries. I felt the most uncomfortable I had been in a long time, and I made sure the tailors knew it.
The first was short for an Alorian elf. He had a crown of chestnut curls and a thick body. He huffed and puffed as his scrutinizing eye looked me up and down, deciding which materials were best matched together. Whilst the other tailor, a kind-faced girl with equally curly hair that trailed down her back, stood in the distance hardly looking at me.
I couldn’t blame her for having such nerves, not when I stood before them with my wings open behind me and my horns protruding from my head. It made sense why they asked me to shift. It allowed them to create clothes that would not rip when I needed to shift. They would come in useful during the coming weeks. But with each prick of the needle and pull of my arm, I became more irritated.
Tiv sat, legs crossed, on my bed. If he wasn’t here, taking my mind off the uncomfortable fitting, I might have roared in frustration by now.
“…and mumma says there will be music and food. Tiv can’t wait. Mumma also told me Janila Barnhem is singing this eve, and she is Tiv’s favorite singer of all.” Tiv spoke fast through a mouthful of bread. “Do you like Janila’s singing?” he asked.
I turned my head to look at him but quickly had it pulled back by the male tailor’s small hand.
“I’ve never heard of her," I replied. "The last person I heard singing was a smelly sailor, which lasted for three whole days. As long as she sounds nothing like him, then I am sure she will be fabulous. Anything would be better than him."
Tiv laughed so hard he almost toppled from the bed, his pale eyes creased as he pinched them closed. “Tiv loves her songs. You will see. You will see.”
“If you like her, I am sure I will too,” I replied, trying to ignore another pin that poked into my thigh. “Where do you and your family live? Is it in the palace?”
“No, no.” Tiv shook his head. “Tiv lives in the city, near the pretty fountain. It has a pretty lady made of stone. Tiv likes the water that pours from her eyes and mouth. When winter comes, Tiv watches as it turns to ice. Pretty ice. Sometimes mother will let me dance on the ice, but she is scared I will break it and fall in. I tell her that won’t happen, but she still worries.”
What I had learned about Tiv was he loved to talk. If I asked a simple question, I was sure to get a long-winded answer. Not that I
minded; his innocence was sweet.
“And do your parents work in the palace with you?”
“No, just Tiv. Mumma is a weaver and helps sell pretty clothes in the market. And my father is a soldier, just like his father and his father before that. He is away now. Tiv hasn’t seen him for days and days.” His voice softened as he spoke of his father. “I want to be like my papa, I want to be a strong soldier and stop the scary monsters outside the city.”
The male tailor pulled back, telling me to lower my arms at last. I took the opportunity to stretch and look at Tiv. His silver hair matched my own, it was like looking at my younger self. "I reckon you will be a gallant fighter."
Tiv sat up straighter and smiled. “Tiv thinks you are right.”
I was surprised to see just how much time has passed. The sky had taken on a deep purple tint with the arrival of night. "It is getting pretty late. When do you finish working?"
For such a young boy, I worried about him. The heart of the city was a couple of miles walk from the bottom of the palace steps.
“Tiv finished a long time ago." He laughed, eyes closed in glee.
"Have you been keeping me company when you should be home preparing for tonight?"
"Maybe," Tiv cooed. "Tiv should go. I want to look handsome for Janila. Mumma always says I look handsome once I bathe and comb my hair.”
He sprung from the bed, his little feet clapping against the floor. “Will you wave later?”
I nodded. “You can be sure I will. If I see you, I want to come and meet your mumma. She sounds wonderful.”
I was taken aback when Tiv wrapped his arms around my legs and hugged me. I was still for a moment but then returned the embrace. He was so cold, even in the warmth of the hearth lit room. His white skin was almost see through, and I could catch a hint of golden streams beneath it.
“You are cold,” I said.
“Just how I like it.” he muttered into my new trousers then pulled away. “Tiv sees you soon.”
