by Grace Draven
“It figures,” Ami remarked in a dry voice, “that the woman who refrained from all courtship would fall so hard and deep.”
“Of course, Essla never did do anything by halves,” Andi answered her.
“I’m sitting right here,” Ursula reminded them, but a slight smile curved her lips.
I cleared my throat, yet again, and tapped the scroll before me, where I had carefully not noted anything about the promises between our future High Queen and her unofficial consort. Though I might write it down privately for myself later. I intended to keep a journal of these days and perhaps later write a history. My own contribution to archiving this era in the Twelve Kingdoms. Such important information should not be completely lost. I had made no vows as Harlan had, to keep the Elskastholrr unwritten. Nor would I promise to keep it secret—my allegiance to recording and preserving information took precedence.
“Designating who would be in line to take the High Throne remains on the table.” I brought them back to the matter at hand.
“Andi and Rayfe will name Stella their heir for the time being and Astar will remain Avonlidgh’s,” Ursula said, swiftly enough to make me realize she’d long since decided on that course and had let the conversation spin out for her own reasons. Perhaps she’d planned all along to make the declaration of her intentions toward Harlan clear to at least the people in that room.
Andi looked to Rayfe, who inclined his head, deferring to her. She then exchanged glances with Ami, who nodded.
“I thank you, and the Tala thank you,” Andi told her, “for the gift of your daughter.”
“Don’t think I’ll let you forget it,” Ami replied with some of her usual sass, but her eyes glistened with emotion.
I noted down the decision, a bit surprised to find myself similarly moved. History in the making. “And the High Throne?”
Ursula’s narrow mouth quirked in malicious amusement. “Guess what, Queen Andromeda?”
Andi’s face went blank with shock. “Moranu take you, no!”
“And here I thought you saw the future so clearly,” Ursula commented in a bland tone that nevertheless needled her sister over whatever it was that she’d seen at the mention of Dasnaria and refused to describe. “You have ever been second in line for the High Throne after me. It takes no magic to predict that.”
The argument continued for a while after that, but Ursula’s logic was sound and Andi couldn’t wriggle out of it. Particularly when Ursula pointed out that having Andi and Stella in line for the High Throne would follow the path Salena had set. Andi finally conceded after taking time to “meditate on the matter,” which meant she’d looked as far as she could into the future and saw no likelihood that she’d ever be forced to take the High Throne.
After hours more of discussion, which had everyone sitting at the table by the end, the detritus of food and drink around us, Ursula and Rayfe had hammered out a treaty. Andi stayed out of that discussion for the most part, occasionally flicking me an amused glance as we watched the pair of them fence over details, a competition they both relished.
Ash took a surprisingly active role in the finer points of citizenship. He had ideas—good ones—for repatriating the Tala prisoners and other exiles scattered throughout the Twelve, and he began documenting them for me in surprisingly well-educated script. Wherever he’d been before his incarceration, he’d had a better upbringing than many of the Tala part-blood brethren he fought to aid. Or perhaps after prison. Something that sparked an idea in me.
In the end, they agreed to Annfwn becoming an independent ally, by way of Rayfe’s marriage to a Princess of the Realm. Truly ironic, that the clash that had set so many of our troubles in motion now provided a convenient structure for creating peace in that direction.
“It sets precedent,” I commented as I finished noting the points to have the agreement formally drafted.
“We’re not going through that again,” Ursula carefully didn’t look at Harlan. We all knew we’d have trouble ahead, with the various rulers of the now-Thirteen Kingdoms looking to gain the more enviable independent ally status by wedding Ursula or Ami.
“I won’t apologize.” Rayfe had tied his hair back with a leather thong. “The welfare of Annfwn has to come first for me, and that means having independent control of our resources.”
“We’ve agreed, haven’t we? It’s signed and done. We’ll deal with the ramifications as they arise.” Ursula had her eyes on Andi, who looked tired. “Speaking of resources—how much is the change in the barrier draining you? It’s still there, isn’t it? Speak honestly, as we’ve aired so many other secrets in this room.”
Andi cast an assessing glance at Rayfe, who lolled back in his chair, returning her gaze with a wealth of meaning behind it.
Andi smiled wryly and nodded. “It’s there, but much farther away.”
“How far?” Ursula wanted to know.
“It’s not as if I can draw it on a map,” Andi retorted. “It would be like trying to explain to you how far my toes are from my ears. It’s a feeling.”
Ursula waited without comment and Andi sighed. “Fine, yes. It’s much more draining this way. Perhaps once I get back to...” She flicked a glance around the table, editing out mention of the Heart, no doubt. “The center of Annfwn, it will be better.”
“Then you should go home,” Ursula told her, face hardening when Andi opened her mouth to protest. “You’re no good to me half dead.”
Andi fired. “I will see you crowned. I’m not abandoning you.”
“Nor am I.” Ami jumped in. “There’s been enough of you facing things alone.”
Ursula looked between them, a rare soft emotion relaxing her shoulders. “I’m not facing anything alone. I know that now. I have Harlan and Dafne—formidable defenders for different enemies—and the librarian has it correct. You must take up your roles in your own kingdoms. I know where to find you. More, I know you’ll come the moment I call, as I would for you.”
A circle of connection hummed between the three sisters, old as birth. I almost expected Salena to walk into the room, smiling at her daughters, proud of what they’d constructed from the puzzle pieces she’d left behind. At least she’d given me a small part to play, too, and I would see it through. Their sisterhood would never include me. Fate had made me an orphan and that wouldn’t change. But I could be close to what made them extraordinary, help them along in what ways I could.
And write the histories after.
“Besides,” I inserted into the speaking silence, “we won’t have the coronation for at least a month. There’s too much to do. You can plan to return.”
Ursula gave me a look of horror. “A month—to plan a party?”
“An occasion of state that will launch your reign.” I held firm. “We’re doing this right. I’ll detail a timeline and then we can announce the date.”
Andi threw up her hands, as if warding off the prospect. “I’m convinced. You don’t need any other help.”
“Coward,” Ursula muttered, while Ami only grinned.
“I’ll work with the barrier and we’ll come back for the coronation. I’ll also look into making it rain in Aerron,” Andi soothed her, then rolled her eyes the moment Ursula looked away.
Ursula caught it anyway and pointed a finger at her. “Soft, soaking rains. Too much at once with the ground so hard and we’ll have flooding.”
“I know, I know.” Andi rolled her eyes again. “That’s why I want to approach the problem slowly and delicately, where I have the best connection and control.” She looked to Rayfe. “We’ll depart in the morning?”
He nodded, a look of relief crossing his face, and took her hand.
“We’ll go tomorrow, too, since things are handled here,” Ami said, throwing me a nod of appreciation. “I’ll go first to Castle Avonlidgh to set things to rights in the kingdom from there. Do a formal naming of Stella, then tour around a bit and let the people see Astar and Stella. That will keep us closer to Ordnung to return in a
month’s time for the coronation.”
“But not to Windroven,” Ursula inserted smoothly.
“Of course to Windroven,” Ami replied, setting her chin. “Castle Avonlidgh may be the capital, but Windroven is the ancestral seat of Hugh’s family. The people there deserve to see their heir. And it’s my home.”
“Reports indicate the volcano at Windroven is becoming active. You’re not going there.”
“Is that an order?” Ami demanded.
Ursula simply gazed back. “A favor. To ease my mind. Until we know more. Please.”
“You’re easier to refuse when you’re dictatorial,” Ami grumped. “Fine, but I want any information your scouts bring back and I’m sending some of my own to find out more. If the volcano is dangerous, everyone should evacuate.”
It made me sad to think of it, the arcanely beautiful castle built into the ancient volcano on the cliffs overlooking the sea, the rich farmland—all in danger of obliteration.
“Agreed,” Ursula told her gravely, speaking High Queen to Queen. “You and your people will have whatever support you need from Ordnung.”
“And from Annfwn.” Andi side-eyed Rayfe, who only narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m sure Rayfe has as many fond memories of Windroven as I do,” she added mischievously.
He laughed then, and picked up her hand to kiss her palm. “Well-played, my queen. Yes,” he said to Ami, and nodded also to Ash, “send to us for whatever you need. The Tala owe the people of Avonlidgh a debt, for both the losses we caused—and the treasure we gained.”
Andi flushed, giving him a speaking look. I suspected Rayfe had won that round after all.
CHAPTER TEN
“Ash—could I have a moment of your time?” I nodded to Ami, who raised her brows at me. The other four had already left, discussing something about the journey to Annfwn. “With Your Highness’s permission, naturally.”
“Dafne,” she chided. “You know full well I can’t make this obstinate ox of a man do anything one way or another.” She gave him a saucy wink. “But don’t stay away too long or I might be asleep.”
A slight smile twisted the scar that bisected Ash’s lip. “Knowing how long it takes you to brush your hair the requisite number of strokes, I’m sure I have plenty of time.”
“Cheeky.” She stood on tiptoes to give him a lingering kiss, one that made his eyes burn as he gazed in her direction long after her trim form disappeared out the door.
With an apparent effort of will, he dragged his attention back to me, smile going rueful that he’d forgotten I waited. “Apologies, librarian. One day perhaps she won’t sear my thoughts into little pieces with one kiss.”
“I hope that day never comes,” I said, in all sincerity. “What you two have is precious—and enviable.”
“I suppose that’s true. Certainly not something I ever imagined I could have.” He looked thoughtful, then shook it off. “How may I be of service to you, librarian?”
I hesitated. Ash wasn’t as obviously a warrior to avoid tangling with, like Rayfe or Harlan—and I put little store by his criminal conviction, as I knew having Tala blood would have been enough to put him in prison—but he had his own edge of danger. That of a very private man, the lone predator who avoided confrontation but decisively ended any he was forced into.
“I don’t wish to trespass on private matters, which is why I wanted to pose my questions to you alone. However, I fear that even asking may be... inappropriate.”
His corrugated face tended to be forbidding and now it settled into stark lines. “Ask. If I don’t wish to answer, I won’t.”
Afraid I’d already offended him, I took a deep breath. I had a job to do. “All right then. Were you ever truly one of the White Monks and, if so, can you tell me how to contact them?”
I’d surprised him, the bright green of his eyes flashing briefly before he turned his face away to look out the window. When he’d first come to Windroven in the company of High Priest Kir, Ash had worn the robes of one of the near mythical White Monks. The few whispers and tales of them indicated they were almost cultlike in their dedication to the worship of Glorianna—and totally separate from the official Church. What I’d been able to uncover about them indicated that the monks spent the first three years of service under a strict vow of silence. The name of the order reflected the stillness and purity they believed silencing the voice and mind brought, the color of their robes deriving from that concept, rather than the reverse. Many of the White Monks apparently never spoke again.
Obviously, Ash did. But then, he’d also used the position to gain admittance to Ami’s entourage, in the hopes she’d take him into Annfwn with her. I’d never known how much of his role had been subterfuge and Ami had never said. It was between them and I wouldn’t have asked, without the current need.
“Why do you wonder?” He finally asked, raspy voice fogged with some dark emotion.
“I’m sorry. I truly did not mean to distress you.”
He met my eyes again, rueful humor in them. “Am I distressed? No. Simply...perhaps swamped with old memories. This is not something I discuss easily or often.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “Never mind. I’ll find another way to contact them.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He shook off whatever had enshrouded him. “You’re thinking for the coronation.”
“Yes.”
“Why the White Monks?”
“I’m not certain it’s the correct choice—that’s part of why I’m asking you. From what I understand, the order is very old, predating most of the worship we associate with Glorianna today. I can’t think of any other part of the Church that will not bear something of Uorsin’s taint. While I was in Annfwn I found an old tale about Talifa, the first Queen of the Tala, from whom the Tala draw their name, according to the legend. And who founded a scholarly society to study Moranu’s sister, Glorianna.”
He stared at me, arrested. “I didn’t know that story had made it out of the order.”
“Then you were one of them.”
“I was.” His eyes darkened in reflection. “They took me in, hid me. Taught me. Three years of silence meant I never had to speak of where—or who—I’d been. That kind of quiet... well, it allowed me to leave behind the beast prison had made me into. They allowed me to be as much of a man as I’ll ever be.”
“A far better man than most.”
He laughed his soundless rasp. “Better than I once was, which is a beginning. I think you are wise in this. The order is... much closer to the old magic of the numinous than I’ve seen in any other part of Glorianna’s Church. I will write a letter of introduction to my old mentor and give you the direction. The rest will be up to you, to do the convincing.”
A difficult task, to be sure.
After I left Ash, I found Andi lingering over wine with Ursula, while a minstrel played. In the flickering shadows of the firelight, they more resembled each other than not. Especially in the curve of the smiles they welcomed me with. Both of them relaxed and sleepy now. Ursula, however, read in one glance that I arrived with a purpose.
“Dare I hope you want something from my sister and not me?” She asked, sounding convinced otherwise.
“Actually yes, Your Highness. I’m hoping for a moment of Queen Andromeda’s time.”
Ursula uncoiled to her feet with smooth alacrity. “She’s back to using titles, which means I’m seizing this reprieve.”
“Now who’s the coward?” Andi scowled at her.
“The better part of valor,” Ursula cheerfully agreed. “I’ll see you off in the morning. Have my chair, librarian.”
I took it, because it was the only seat close enough to keep my conversation with Andi private, though the symbolism made me uneasy. I might be moving in rarified circles, consorting with queens and kings, but it would be a fatal error to imagine myself equal to any of them, or able to take their places in any way.
Andi regarded me warily, which helped ease my apprehension, that a
sorceress as powerful as she would treat me as a threat. Humorous, indeed.
“My first request is a simple one,” I said, taking the easy path. “Remember the Tala man, the shaman who married you and Rayfe in Moranu’s name?”
“It’s a moment that sticks in my memory, yes,” she replied drily.
“Could he or his... group be contacted to perform Moranu’s third of the coronation?”
Andi looked interested. “And thereby demonstrate Tala support for the new High Queen, with Moranu’s blessing? Clever of you, librarian. Draft your missive, send your messenger to me in Annfwn, and I’ll make the contact.”
“Thank you.”
The silence stretched out. She’d learned a great deal as Queen of the Tala. Once she would have prodded me. Now she simply waited, her stormy eyes shadowed, making me speak first.
“What did you see about Dasnaria?” I asked it baldly, though in a quiet tone that wouldn’t carry over the music. Andi began to shake her head and I gave her my sternest look. “Don’t tell me it was nothing of import. You said we need to put things in order, so I’m doing that. Before what happens?”
Her eyes glinted with an edge of silver. “Why would I tell you and not my elder sister, who is, by the way, far more intimidating, so don’t try that with me.”
“Because Her Highness and I are not the same person. She has enough to think about without planning future battles she can’t yet act on, particularly one as fraught as something tied up with Harlan. It’s my job to anticipate the trials to come and do what I can to prepare so that when the time comes, she has what she needs to act. What did you see?”
She huffed out a sigh, reached for a clean goblet and poured for us both. “It’s not that simple. It’s not like reading a book, with the history nicely linear and laid out in detail.”
“What is it like?” I hadn’t meant to ask, but curiosity overtook me.
“It’s... more like dream images. Do you ever get recurring dreams—yes? It’s like those, the way the details might change but the core images remain the same. And I’m awake.” She grimaced.
