Black Crown

by Sarah Dalton

  “Mae is strong enough,” Cas says. “We are strong enough.”

  “Is that so, prince? Where is your army? Where are your soldiers?”

  Cas lets out a sigh. “They are north with the General and the Duke. We can get word to Allerton—”

  “—to get word to the north, to tell the General to march south,” she says. “Too late. It will take too long.”

  “The sultan promised us men,” I point out.

  “Only if you have the Ember Stone,” she replies. “If the king gets it first, he will side with the king.”

  “Then he’s a fool. The king will wipe him and his army from this world,” I say, not bothering to hide my venom.

  “You need to send a clear message of power to your people,” she says.

  Cas takes my hand. “What better message of power than the union between the craft-born and the heir to the throne.”

  I meet his eyes. “You mean—?”

  “Yes, I mean our marriage.”

  “Here?”

  He nods.

  I squeeze his hand. “Then we do it, and we do it with the townsfolk as witnesses. And the tribesmen. And anyone else who cares to see. We’ll spread the word across the mountains. The people will know that we are strong, that they can join our cause.”

  Esther smiles. “Good. This is a good start. For now, stay here and eat. Sleep for a few hours. I will make some arrangements.”

  Mushtan watches her leave with a frown. Then he turns to me. “Once this is done, it can never be changed. You must be sure that you wish this.”

  With Cas’s hand on mine I have never been so sure. “We are ready.”

  Sasha drags me into a bear hug and hooks an arm over Cas’s neck. “Finally!”

  My cheeks burn red hot with embarrassment, but it doesn’t stop the grin spreading across my face.

  *

  When the village hears of the wedding, there’s an automatic buzz of excitement. I’m pulled away by three women and taken to a small hut. Sasha, Ellen, and Aliyah join us.

  “They are going to bathe you and paint your face,” Aliyah says.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a ritual,” she says with a shrug. “We paint a pattern across your temples and forehead. It’s very beautiful. You’ll like it a lot.”

  “Fine, but first I need to heal Sasha’s ankle.” I’m glad for the distraction, as everything is moving very fast and I need to slow down for a moment. Sasha holds out her foot and I place a hand over it.

  “Are you finished, Hada-Ya?” Aliyah asks with raised eyebrows.

  I nod and allow myself to smile. Even though nerves tighten my body, I can’t help but let excitement creep in, too. It was only months ago that I wondered about the culture of my ancestral home, and now I am going to be taking part in one of their rituals.

  “And they will find you a dress to wear,” she continues.

  Sasha giggles. “Mae will look ridiculous in a dress.”

  “Hey, I’ve worn them before,” I say, thinking of the time I wore my mother’s dress. The day Father died. My heart twists. Neither of them will be here to see this moment. Father would be flabbergasted by the idea of me marrying the prince. It’s so bizarre, it’s almost laughable. We went to all that trouble to keep my secret, to stop me marrying Cas, and yet somehow my destiny caught up with me anyway.

  “I have a dress,” Ellen says. “It’s in my pack. I… I took it when I escaped the Red Palace with Cas. I’ve been mending it at night when you’re all asleep. I couldn’t sleep, you see. It was soothing for me. I… It’s my mother’s dress and I didn’t want to be apart from it.”

  “I couldn’t,” I say, meeting Ellen’s eyes. “It means too much to you.”

  She lifts a hand to cut me off. “This is my apology. For everything. I’ll have a few changes to make to the seam, but I can do it before the ceremony.” She smiles and disappears from the hut.

  “That’s good of her,” Sasha says. “She’s a good person.”

  “Who knew?” I say with a grin.

  I peek through the window of the hut to see the people milling around, threading long palm leaves and vines around the frames of their huts. The leaves flutter with a slight breeze.

  “That is how we decorate,” Aliyah says. “We use the leaves and twine, and we paint our houses, and wear colourful clothes.”

  Sure enough, there are men and women smearing bright paint onto the front of their huts. They move as though dancing, looping reds and yellows, and bright emerald greens into stunning patterns. Alongside the green and red loops are little dots of white.

  “We call upon the Gods to bless you,” Aliyah says. “But perhaps you can do that yourself. You have the power of the Gods, after all.”

  I think back to the Red Palace when Allerton told me stories about how the Aelfens created the Gods with their magic. They created these immortal beings to watch over the elements. It must be true. They must still exist, otherwise why would I have my powers? And how else would Avery come to me? She must be some sort of God. I’ve thought that for a while, but I don’t know which one. There is no God called Avery.

  “Mae?” Sasha says, bringing me back to reality. “Is anything the matter?”

  “No, I was thinking about the Gods and my powers… and…” I shake my head, struggling to find the words.

  “He loves you for you,” she says with a smile.

  Tears prick at my eyes, but before they well up, Ellen bursts back into the hut with a long, white dress.

  “I’m not sure I can wear that,” I say, feeling my eyes widen with horror.

  “Don’t be so ridiculous,” Ellen chastises. “You will be beautiful.”

  They wash me, dry me, and wrap me in linen, while a serious-faced young woman gently paints my face with a soft brush. Aliyah tells me it’s made out of camel fur. Around me, the women sing, holding hands with each other and beating the dusty floor with their bare feet. When the painting is done, they move on to braiding my hair.

  “What does it look like?” I ask Sasha, having to talk loudly over the sound of their singing.

  But Sasha has tears in her eyes and can’t speak.

  “By the Gods, what’s wrong with you?” I say.

  “You just look so pretty.”

  I shake my head and am chastised by the serious-faced young woman. “Get a grip, Sasha!” But inside I feel a squeeze; a swelling of emotion fighting to escape.

  Before I step into the dress, the women of Asher take my hands and we sit in a circle.

  “This is a time to reflect on your intended, and to ask the Gods for a long and happy marriage,” Aliyah tells me. “You thank them for allowing you to find the soul that matches yours. You tell them how grateful you are.”

  I nod, and close my eyes. Back in Halts-Walden, there would be no way you’d catch me praying. But Avery, and my powers, and all that has happened over the last few months have made me think differently about the world. I know and accept my destiny. I accept that there are things I don’t fully understand.

  Avery, I am praying to you because you come to me in my dreams. The last dream frightened me. It felt like a warning, but I don’t know what that warning is. I know you have told me that I will suffer, that my destiny is going to be hard, but that’s the thing… it’s my destiny, no one else’s. So I pray to you to ask that no one else gets hurt. Do what you like to me, rip off my other hand, but don’t hurt anyone else. Especially not Cas. He has his own destiny, one that I may or may not be around for. He will rule Aegunlund, and bring a fair king back to our world. You have to keep him safe. Preferably keep us both safe so we can be happy and have fat children, and fat grandchildren, and die in our beds when we’re old and grey. That’s what I should expect, not hope for, but I know I have a job to do first, and I know it might take my life. Spare his. Please.

  I open my eyes to find the rest of the people in the hut watching me intently.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You just see
med so sincere,” Sasha says. “Like you were really wishing for something.”

  “It was beautiful,” Ellen adds, wiping away a tear.

  “For the love of Celine get it together, you two,” I say, holding back my own tears.

  “Time for the dress,” Aliyah adds with a smile. “Come.”

  I step into Ellen’s dress while holding in my breath. She is slimmer than me and not as full in the chest, but she has done a good job of letting out the seams so that the fit is snug but not suffocating. And then someone brings a piece of broken mirror into the hut and holds it before me.

  I inhale, sucking in air. The girl in the mirror has her mouth hanging open. She has flowers tucked into her braids, and a warrior pattern drawn on her skin in white. She wears a long, floating dress, but she stands straight and tall, with her shoulders thrown back. She seems strong, and beautiful, and ready for her future.

  “That can’t be me,” I breathe.

  Ellen claps her hands in delight. Aliyah raises her eyebrows and nods approvingly. Sasha grips my hand and sniffs.

  “Are you ready?” Sasha asks.

  My stomach responds with a flutter. It seems like moments ago that I was sat with Esther and the rest of our group discussing the impending war. Now I am dressed as a bride.

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.

  “She’s ready,” Aliyah says, and pushes me out of the hut.

  Chapter Twenty – The Warning

  Every hut in Asher is bright with paint. Dots, dashes, loops, and interconnecting patterns flow through the town, as though joining everyone together as one. I nod to some of the villagers, thanking them for their efforts. The children grin, proud of their handiwork, and excited to be part of the festivities. All the time my heart is aflutter.

  “There’s no way the tribes won’t notice the wedding,” Sasha says pointing to the paint. She turns around and stares out into the distance. “Look!”

  I turn to see a group of camels lined up on top of one of the distant dunes. “They’re watching us.”

  “Yes, and soon word will get out that the prince and the craft-born are married,” she says. “That will give the king something to worry about.”

  And hopefully strengthen Cas’s supporters.

  “They won’t know it’s us right away. Someone will have to tell them,” I say.

  “Esther will sort that.”

  I nod. No doubt she will.

  I try not to think about Aegunlund and the tribesmen; instead I think of Cas and what is about to happen. We’re about to be joined before our friends as husband and wife. My stomach lurches. I’m barely sixteen years old. I take a soothing breath. What does it matter? I am the craft-born; he is a prince. Younger people than us have become king or queen in the past. We can do this.

  The villagers have changed into brightly coloured robes. Some have pretty patterns painted in a deep red across their foreheads. There is the sound of a drum and a fire burning in the distance. As I get closer to the fire, the villagers begin to sing, and their voices wash away my worries. It’s a harmonic sound, punctuated by drum beats. The melody rises and falls as feet beat the ground, sending sand up into the air. It’s through the sand cloud I first see Cas.

  He’s dressed in a silver tunic tucked into his britches, with his sword hanging on his belt. Travelling through the Anadi Sands has sculpted him, shaped him into a broad shouldered man. A flutter of excitement passes through me when he turns to face me. A storm brews in his eyes, and his gaze is almost hungry. Without thinking about what the tradition might be in Asher we join hands, and his grip on mine is strong.

  “You look…” he whispers into my ear, but doesn’t seem capable of ending the sentence. A flush of heat works its way up from my toes to my cheeks. My eyes can’t break away from his gaze.

  The ceremony is long. It lasts until the sun begins to fade. For a lot of the time we stand by the fire holding hands as coloured sand is thrown over us, and we are given a sash of desert flowers to wear. Then, we are told to sit as the villagers dance for us, kicking up dirt and beating the skin of their drum. It’s intoxicating: the smell of the smoke, the haze of the sand, the music pulsing through the desert, making the Anadi Sands shake. My palm is hot and clammy inside Cas’s grasp, and I can smell him—citrus, spice, and still somehow the forest—as we lean into one another.

  One of the villagers pulls Sasha into the group. She dances out of step with the Ashers, tipping back her red mane to laugh heartily. Then wine is passed around, and soon I’m on my feet with Cas, dancing for the first time ever. I’m clumsy and oafish and Cas almost doubles over with laughter, but I don’t care, I will dance and dance until the sun rises.

  *

  The next morning my mouth is as dry as the desert, and my head pounds the same rhythm as the drums. I wake with a jolt, sitting bolt upright in the tent, my heart pounding. There’s an ache where my missing hand used to be. It throbs so hard I can hardly bear it. I glance down at Cas beside me, softly snoring away. We’re not alone. Avery stands before me.

  “It’s time to leave, craft-born,” she says.

  I open my mouth to speak, but she is gone, fading back into the shadows.

  I rock Cas from his slumber and direct him into his clothes. He rubs sleep from his eyes and stumbles around the tent.

  “Mae, what is this? Let’s go back to bed—”

  “Avery came to me. She said we had to go, now.”

  “Why?” he asks.

  “She didn’t say.”

  Cas shakes his head and grumbles as I hurry out of the tent, swearing at the bright sun. Why did I have to drink so much wine while in the desert? I wipe my forehead and my hand comes back smeared with white paint. I’d forgotten all about that, and when I observe the landscape around me, the huts of Asher are still covered in their decorations. I stop myself from getting lost in the haze that was last night, and hurry across to Sasha’s tent.

  “I got a message from Avery, we have to… oh!” I stop mid-stride. Sasha is not alone. Ellen is curled up on her bedroll. The two girls sit up sharply. Sasha glares at me. “Um… she said we have to go. Now. And I’m inclined to agree with her. I’m going to find Esther so we can gather supplies.”

  I back out of the tent, biting my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling. It seems that the two of them discovered their feelings for each other last night. I’m glad.

  The village is quiet. We stayed up late in the night, celebrating our wedding; dancing and singing; eating and drinking. The people here are more than generous, they are warm and accepting. They made us feel like family. I hope with every part of my being that our presence here won’t cause them trouble. I have a heavy feeling in my stomach that I can’t shake away; the feeling that something bad is going to happen.

  I rush through the buildings searching for Esther, at last finding her in their temple, sitting cross-legged in front of their altar. She doesn’t move when I approach so I clear my throat loudly.

  “Yes,” she says, impatient but not rude. “What is it, Hada-Ya?”

  “I was visited by Avery this morning. She said to leave. Avery is an Ancient who comes to me in my dreams. I think she might be some sort of Goddess.”

  Esther climbs to her feet, her knees clicking. She straightens her back and stares deep into my eyes. She has a sombre face, one with strong features—a large nose, high cheekbones, lips that are full and straight, brows that are thick. Her hair is peppered with grey, and almost as curly as mine.

  “And what did she say to you in this dream?” Esther asks.

  “She said to go—now.”

  Esther stares over my head and scratches her forearm. “And this message frightens you?”

  I nod.

  “Then you must go. Meet Ishra at the well, and we will bring you what we can for your journey.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “For everything.”

  Esther nods, and she smiles thinly. I can almost see the thoughts in her mind. I can see her worry about th
e villagers. As I turn away, my stomach squirms. What if I have brought danger to them? What if I get these wonderful people killed? My hand shakes as I round up Mushtan and the others. I continue to tremble as I pack my things into Adil’s saddle. Perhaps if we leave now, we will be able to lure that danger away from Asher. I can only hope so.

  “Avery, that warning had best help these people. I don’t want to leave these people to fend for themselves,” I mutter as I tie Adil’s saddle.

  “Hey.” I feel a hand on my shoulder. “You seem stressed.”

  I find Cas’s concerned eyes when I turn to him. “If these people are hurt…”

  “You don’t know they will be. You’re doing the right thing,” Cas says. “You’re following a warning, and that’s good. Do you remember the stubborn girl I once knew who refused to follow orders and made bad decisions?”

  I half smile at him. “I wasn’t that bad.”

  “We’ve both changed, White Hart,” he says.

  The familiar name makes my breath catch in my throat. I steel myself, stop my trembling fingers, and nod. “Let’s go to the well. Esther and Ishra are meeting us there.”

  My heart pounds against my chest as we walk to the well. It refuses to calm as we pack up the water, food, and our belongings. Even as Mushtan’s men yawn and complain about their aching heads, my body remains rigid, waiting for this impending danger.

  As I climb onto Adil, there is still nothing. There is no attack, and I begin to question Avery’s presence altogether.

  Esther approaches my camel with her hand held above her brow to shield her eyes from the sun. She lifts her chin and meets my gaze with her own level eyes. “I have something for you, Hada-Ya. A gift.”

  “For me?” I say, hardly masking my surprise. We’ve known each other little over a day.

  “It’s only a small token,” she says. Her palm unfolds to show a small golden band. She lifts her hand to me, and I lean over Adil to take it. “You need a wedding ring, Mae.” Hearing her say my name is strange. I’ve been so used to being the Hada-Ya since coming to the Haedalands.