Harshini

by Jennifer Fallon

  “Looks like it was quite a party,” R’shiel remarked.

  “Cyrus would have feasted his troops before he sent them out.”

  She glanced around the hall, at the low, vaulted ceiling and the rough stone floor. “This place is pretty old, isn’t it?”

  “It’s one of the oldest structures in Hythria,” he agreed. “It predates Greenharbour, I think.”

  “Then it probably has dungeons.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Then we’ll check them first.”

  “Cyrus wouldn’t dare throw Adrina in a dungeon.”

  “No, you wouldn’t dare. Cyrus doesn’t care about Adrina, one way or the other. Besides, I’ve spent all night clinging to a dragon with my thighs. My legs are killing me. I really don’t want to climb all the way to the top of this place, just to find out she’s a few steps below us. We check the dungeons first.”

  Damin nodded his agreement, probably just as sore and stiff as she was. He pointed to a door that led off the hall by the second hearth. R’shiel followed him, stepping over a number of sleeping bodies along the way. She looked about her, unable to entirely believe that the glamour she had drawn around them was actually working.

  They made their way down a narrow corridor that curved around the tower and led to another door at the end, this one reinforced with bands of iron. Damin pushed it open slowly, wincing as the hinges squealed in protest.

  “They might not hear us,” Damin hissed. “But they’re bound to hear that.”

  “Keep going. If they come to investigate, they’ll just think the door hadn’t been latched properly.”

  Damin obviously didn’t share her confidence, but he led the way forward, down a set of damp, narrow steps that reached into the darkness. R’shiel kept her hand on the wall, making her way by feel more than sight. The stone was slimy under her fingers, and in the distance she could hear the faint rush of the ocean as it pounded against the castle’s foundations.

  She bumped into Damin when he stopped abruptly, pointing to a spill of yellow light coming from the bottom of the stairs. She nodded silently, falling victim to Damin’s desire for stealth, even though, protected by the glamour, there was no need for it. They reached the bottom and stepped into another narrow passage, this one lined by barred cells and lit by fitfully sputtering torches. There were guards at the other end of the passage, squatting on the floor, engrossed in their game. The air was surprisingly fresh, heavy with the smell of the ocean and the waves crashing against the cliffs seemed even louder. A faint breeze whispered past them and R’shiel realised that there must be an opening down here that led to the sea. If they had brought Adrina here by boat, then there was a good chance this was the way she had come. With luck, they hadn’t bothered to take her any further.

  “You check the cells on the left,” Damin told her. “I’ll take the right.”

  R’shiel nodded and moved to the first cell, which proved empty. The next housed a sleeping man wearing a shirt tattered by the lash. The third cell she checked also contained a sleeping prisoner, but whether male or female, R’shiel could not tell from the rags piled on the damp floor.

  “Adrina!”

  Damin’s cry made her jump, and she looked at the guards nervously, reminding herself that they could not hear him. She hurried to his side. Adrina was sitting on the floor of the fourth cell on the right, her knees drawn up under her chin, rocking backward and forward on the damp, cold floor, as tears streamed silently down her face. There was a nasty bruise on her jaw and her lip was puffy and split. Her silken gown was muddied and torn, her hair in disarray. Her wounds appeared superficial, though, and the tears were more likely to be for Tamylan than herself. Adrina wasn’t the self-pitying type. But R’shiel had never seen anyone looking quite so miserable.

  “Adrina!” Damin called again, grabbing at the bars in anguish.

  “She can’t hear you, Damin.”

  “Where are the keys?”

  “The guards have them, I imagine.”

  “I’ll get them,” he announced, reaching for his sword.

  “No, you stay here. I’ll get them.”

  She walked to the end of the passage and watched the guards for a moment as they wagered on the fall of two crudely carved die. There were three men, all of them lacking the spit and polish of fighting troops. The guard nearest the wall carried a bunch of keys on his belt. She frowned. They may not be able to see her, but they would notice the keys detaching themselves and floating up the hall.

  R’shiel didn’t want to kill the guards. Doing so would alert Cyrus to their presence. It was possible that the Lord of Dregian Province would have no need to check on Adrina until he thought Damin was ready to attack. With luck, Adrina’s escape might go unnoticed for the rest of the day, even longer, if the guards paid little attention to their charges. But whatever she did, she would have to let go of the glamour. Strong she might be, but she was not accomplished enough to do two things at once.

  “R’shiel! Hurry!”

  She ignored Damin’s impatient plea and stepped into the shadows. With infinite care she let the glamour that made them invisible slip from her grasp. As it left her, she concentrated on the gaming soldiers, willing them to sleep. They fell so quickly, she was afraid she had killed them.

  Not sure how long unconsciousness would hold the men, she hurriedly removed the keys from the belt of the snoring guard. She ran back to Damin and began trying the keys in the lock.

  Adrina glanced up at the sound, able to see them now the glamour was gone, although it took a moment for her to realise who was standing at the door to her cell.

  “Damin?”

  “Adrina!” he cried anxiously, then turned to R’shiel. “Hurry up!”

  “I am hurrying,” she snapped as the lock turned on the fourth key she tried. Damin pushed roughly past her into the cell as soon as the lock snicked open. Adrina flew into his arms, sobbing. He held her so tightly, he lifted her clear off the ground. Then he was kissing her forehead, her neck, her eyes, anywhere he could reach. When he kissed her mouth she cried out in pain and pushed him away.

  “Founders, Damin! She’s been punched in the mouth.” R’shiel glared at him as he let Adrina go. She examined the wound for a moment, deciding it could wait before she healed it. That way, Damin might show a little self-control. “Any other injuries we can’t see?”

  Adrina shook her head, wiping her eyes.

  “What about the baby?” Adrina’s eyes widened and she stared at Damin in horror. “Don’t worry about him. He knows. Is the baby all right?”

  The princess nodded mutely.

  “Fine, then let’s get out of here.”

  R’shiel led the way from the cell then turned impatiently to find they weren’t following her. Instead, they stood in the centre of the dim dungeon, locked in an embrace that was as touching as it was inconvenient.

  “We don’t have time for this!” R’shiel warned as one of the guards began to stir.

  Damin reluctantly let Adrina go. R’shiel let out an exasperated curse and turned towards the stairs. The sound of footsteps changed her mind and she hurriedly turned the other way, pushing Damin and Adrina ahead of her, past the sleeping guards. An archway on the far side of the guardroom proved to be the source of the chill ocean breeze. R’shiel pointed to it urgently.

  “Down there! I’ll follow in a minute.”

  They needed no further urging. R’shiel ran back to Adrina’s empty cell and locked the door, then returned the keys to the belt of the sleeping guard, smiling to herself. Let them figure that one out.

  The footsteps drew closer on the stairs and the guard stirred again as she stepped away from him. She glanced around, satisfied that there was no other evidence of their passage and disappeared into the darkness of the archway.

  Adrina and Damin were waiting for her. As she suspected, the stairs finished at a small dock, carved into the living rock at the base of the castle. Unfortunately, the dock was empty.


  “Now what?” Damin asked, holding Adrina close.

  “We need a boat.”

  “Great deductive reasoning, demon child.”

  She loftily ignored the jibe and turned her attention to the thrashing sea. Even if they had a boat, she didn’t like their chances of navigating their way clear of the rocks.

  “What’s the name of the God of the Oceans?”

  “Kaelarn,” Damin told her. “Why?”

  “I think we’re going to need his help.”

  “You are going to summon a god and you don’t even know his name?”

  “Got any better ideas?” When neither of them answered her she turned back to face the thrashing ocean. “Kaelarn!”

  The ocean surged below them. Cold spray showered them as the waves swelled. Out of the steely depths a figure appeared, vaguely human in form, but shaped from the sea itself. It rose out of the surf until it loomed over them. R’shiel had to strain her neck to look up at him.

  “So the demon child has need of me,” Kaelarn boomed wetly. He had the most unpleasant voice R’shiel had ever heard. It was like someone talking through a bucket of water. She fervently hoped nobody else could hear him.

  “We need to get away from this place. We need a boat.”

  “A boat? You have demons to meld boats for you, demon child.”

  R’shiel glanced over her shoulder as shouts drifted down from the guardroom. The sleeping guards had been discovered. It was only a matter of time before Adrina’s absence was noted.

  “A meld will take too long.”

  “You wish to aid these humans, I presume?” he asked, pointing a watery arm at Damin and Adrina.

  “Yes.”

  “Is this part of your task to defeat Xaphista, or merely a whim?”

  “It is most definitely part of my task.”

  “Then I shall aid you, demon child. However, I cannot conjure up a boat. Perhaps this will suffice.”

  With a tremendous splash, Kaelarn returned to the ocean. The sea churned and boiled as the god vanished. R’shiel looked about her in frustration. Kaelarn had disappeared and the sea was still facing them, churning savagely as it ate at the rock beneath the castle.

  “Well, he was a big help,” she muttered in annoyance.

  “R’shiel! Look!” Adrina suddenly cried in delight.

  Out of the foaming waves, three red-grey creatures approached, their large dorsal fins slicing through the water. Just like the creature in the fountain in Greenharbour, they had long, elegant tails ending in broad, flipper-like paddles. Their wide-set intelligent eyes looked straight at them as they surfed towards the dock. R’shiel had grown up in landlocked Medalon. She had never seen anything like them before.

  “What are they?”

  “Water dragons!”

  “Are they dangerous?”

  Damin laughed at her expression. “No. They’re called the ‘fisherman’s friends’. We can ride them.”

  “Ride them?”

  The water dragons edged their way to the dock as the shouting in the guardroom grew louder. Without hesitating, Damin and Adrina slipped into the water and climbed aboard the creatures, grabbing hold of their dorsal fins.

  “I can’t swim, Damin.”

  “Come on! You don’t baulk at riding dragons.”

  With another glance over her shoulder at the stairs to the guardroom, R’shiel decided she didn’t have time to be squeamish. She slipped into the water, gasping as the chill salty ocean filled her mouth. She began to panic as the waves crashed over her, then a warm, solid body pushed her clear of the foam. She grabbed for the beast’s fin and pulled herself upright as it plunged through the waves in the wake of the creatures carrying Adrina and Damin.

  R’shiel clung to the beast in terror as the castle dwindled in the distance, determined never, as long as she lived, to ask another god for his help again.

  CHAPTER 28

  Just on sunset, at R’shiel’s insistence, the water dragons left them on a small beach not far from Greenharbour. It was partly because she wanted to give Adrina a chance to recover from her ordeal, and partly because she wanted to get out of the water and back on dry land where she felt she had some control over things. Damin had built a small fire and dried out their clothes and had gone in search of fresh water.

  R’shiel healed Adrina’s split lip with a touch and watched the bruise on her jaw fade before placing her hand on Adrina’s stomach. She could feel the life there, strong and resilient.

  “Can you tell if it’s a boy or a girl?” Adrina asked hopefully.

  “I’m the demon child, Adrina, not a prophet.”

  “With my luck it will be a girl.”

  R’shiel looked at her curiously, as she let go of her power. “What’s so bad about that?”

  “You have to be born Fardohnyan to understand.”

  “Your child will be the heir to Hythria, Adrina. They don’t suffer the same prejudice against women.”

  “Maybe not, but it irks me to think I was never worthy of my father’s throne, simply because I had the misfortune to be born a girl.”

  “Is that why you’re so annoyed that the throne will fall to Damin?”

  She smiled wanly. “No. That just annoys me on principle.”

  “He was ready to go to war over you, Adrina. In fact, he may still have to.”

  Adrina sighed forlornly. “I didn’t really think he’d come for me, you know. Or if he did, he’d come charging over Cyrus’ borders like some avenging god and play right into his enemies’ hands. I suppose I have you to thank for the fact that he didn’t.”

  R’shiel sat back on her heels, but she didn’t confirm or deny Adrina’s suspicions.

  “You told him about the baby, didn’t you? That explains why he came for me.”

  “He already knew about it, Adrina. And I don’t think it made the slightest bit of difference. Damin would have come for you, no matter what.”

  The princess shook her head, as if she didn’t believe it was possible. R’shiel felt like slapping her.

  “There’s a spring not far from here,” Damin called, striding across the white sand towards them. “I’m afraid I’ve nothing to carry the water in, though.”

  R’shiel glared at him. “Use Adrina’s head. It’s hollow enough!”

  Damin stared at her in shock. “What?”

  Adrina climbed to her feet, brushing the sand from her tattered skirts. “R’shiel is angry with me. And you too, I think. That’s just her way of expressing it.”

  “What did I do?” Damin asked, full of wounded innocence. R’shiel felt like screaming.

  “Nothing!” she snapped. “Nothing at all! That’s the whole point.”

  “Look, if I did something to make you angry, don’t take it out on Adrina.”

  “I don’t need you to stand up for me, Damin Wolfblade,” Adrina interjected. “I can take care of myself, thank you.”

  “Why shouldn’t I take it out on Adrina?” R’shiel asked, ignoring the princess as if she wasn’t there. “It’s not as if you care.”

  “What are you talking about? You know damned well I care what happens to her! What’s the matter with you?”

  “Since when did you give a damn about me?” Adrina demanded, turning on Damin.

  “Since when did you give a damn about me?” Damin retorted, forgetting R’shiel momentarily.

  “How can you say that?” Adrina cried angrily. “I’ve done everything you asked of me and more!”

  “What have you ever done besides flaunt your royal superiority?”

  “What have you ever done for me? You held me prisoner! You accused me of trying to murder your uncle. You kept me collared like a slave just for the sheer hell of it! And then you took advantage of me!”

  R’shiel knew of Adrina’s impressive temper, but it was the first time she had seen it in full flight since the morning Cratyn had tried to kill her. She stepped back from the couple with a faint smile and sat down on the cool white sand to watch the show
. They had forgotten she existed.

  “I took advantage of you?” Damin gasped in disbelief. “You devious little bitch. You came over the border dressed as a court’esa and spent the whole time acting like one! Ask Tarja if you don’t believe me. You were all over him like a wet blanket any time he got within five paces of you.”

  R’shiel hadn’t known about that, but she found herself more amused than jealous at the idea. Poor Tarja. Fancy having to fight off Adrina when she was determined to seduce him.

  “At least he treated me like a princess! You treated me like a court’esa! You kept me collared and bound as if I was bought and paid for.”

  “Oh, I’ve paid for you, Adrina,” Damin said with feeling.

  “You think so? I’ve suffered the insults of your wretched mother. I’ve entertained your brutish Warlords. I’ve been kidnapped and beaten and locked in a dungeon. Even my slave was killed because of your damned throne. I’ve given up my whole life for you, you ungrateful bastard!”

  “You manage to act in a civilised manner at a few dinner parties and that’s supposed to justify the fact that I’m facing a damned civil war because of you?”

  “I didn’t cause your measly little war! The miracle is that you haven’t gone and gotten yourself killed before now!”

  “Well, maybe you’ll get lucky again, Adrina, and I will be killed. Then you can go and find some other poor unsuspecting sod to marry you and give you a crown.”

  The crack as Adrina slapped Damin’s face echoed along the deserted beach with startling clarity. The argument stopped abruptly as Damin stared at her in shock. Even Adrina looked stunned that she had hit him.

  For a long moment they stared at each other, not saying a word

  “I’m sorry,” the princess said finally, drawing herself up with regal poise. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Damin hesitated for a moment then shrugged, rubbing the handprint that stood out against his tan in the twilight. “No. You don’t owe me an apology, Adrina. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”