Fall of Thrones and Thorns

by Jennifer Ellision

  “Forget the meal, sober or not,” the boy says, expression twisted in a sneer. “We’re the last pub left in the village. You can stay out in the woods, hunting squirrel for all I care. Probably won’t be able to find your way back to the river and into town again, and so much the better. Steer clear of Jowyck’s Tavern from here on out, you hear?”

  He slams the door shut, and wind whistles toward us as the Shaker kicks at the ground.

  Our vantage point is extinguished with the breeze and Tregle comes back to us with a gasp. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “Must have been a torch we were looking from, blown out in the wind. Got a bit more from it that time though, yeah?”

  “A bit,” Bree repeats. I study her worriedly. She’s gone very pale, her skin a strangely white pallor.

  I take her face between my hands. “Are you well?” I ask again.

  “No.” She shakes her head, trembling fingers rising to her cheek to rest against my hand. “I know that boy, Caden. I know Jowyck. And I know where they are.”

  A sinking feeling in my chest meets her next words. Bree’s only had the chance to meet so many people. Since leaving the capital, she’s flitted quickly from place to place over the continent. She wouldn’t have had time in the last year, when she was traveling under secrecy, fleeing from my father, to have made an acquaintance that might stick. And I’d recognize anyone she would have encountered in the castle.

  Which can mean only one thing.

  “Abeline,” we say together.

  The village she was raised in. Her home.

  She smiles tremulously and confirms it. “The Shaker’s in Abeline.”

  Sixteen

  Bree

  I won’t pretend that the idea of returning to Abeline hasn’t shaken me. I’d once longed to go home. That had been when the king had held Da and I captive in his stronghold and the idea of a normal life hadn’t quite relinquished its hold on me.

  But a part of me acknowledged it as a pipe dream the instant Lady Katerine found Da and I there. The Bridge and Duchess was burned to ashes before my very eyes. Da is dead. To go back now, when so much has changed…

  I take a deep breath to center myself. No. Enough of that. Yes, I know the people who live in the town. Yes, I have a history there—my heart throbs in painful agreement with this sentiment—but that has no bearing on the situation at hand.

  The Shaker could have been in any town, anywhere in Egria. It doesn’t—can’t—alter our plans. Not a thing has changed.

  Forget that I’d found Jowyck’s idiot boys, Ritchie and Bennie, in the woods time and time again. That Da and I had kept up a friendly rivalry with Jowyck, that we’d worried for his wife when he’d had indulged in too much drink and been unable to leave his bed. Forget that it had been my home, that the village, the river, and the woods had had an equal hand with Da in raising me.

  Makers, how had I failed to recognize those woods the first instant we’d seen Everett through the flames? I curse my inattention. I’d spent enough time among those trees, chopping wood for the fire and hunting rabbit, squirrel, and deer for the evening stew—whatever I may find. It had taken seeing young Ritchie, connecting him to Jowyck, before I’d been able to put two and two together to come up with four.

  When Elena and Lilia return two days later, soldiers in tow, we loop them in and plot ourselves a course.

  “Best we go straight there,” I say. Even to my own ears, my voice is quiet. Distant. “We—I mean, Abeline is not far from the Clavish border. Every so often we had people come through town trying to steal across. Usually Elementals trying to avoid conscription. They didn’t realize it was virtually the same in Clavins—”

  Caden lays a calming hand over mine, and I realize that I’m babbling, twisting my fingers into knots. I ease out a breath and smile shakily at him.

  “The idea has merit,” he says. His eyes stay on me. Measuring my reaction, I suppose. “So much the better if we can get all of this over with, but I confess to a certain fear that the Shaker will see us coming.”

  “I don’t think he’s looking for us,” Tregle puts in. “If his efforts with Nereidium began before we reached their shores…”

  “We can suppose that it’s simply another thread in the web Langdon’s weaving against them,” Elena finishes.

  “He’ll take any of us that he can,” Aleta contributes. “But it’s always been Nereidium that he’s been after.”

  “Why is that?” Lilia asks. Frustrated, she tugs on a lock of hair. “You would think most power-hungry bastards would be content with conquering the entire damned continent? Why is it that your father has to cross an ocean?”

  Caden shrugs while I turn an idea over in my mind.

  The thing is…I sort of do have an inkling as to why Langdon has so fixated on my kingdom.

  My first instinct is as it’s always been—to keep the idea to myself. See if it bears fruit, if it’s worth alarming everyone with. But I’ve learned from past mistakes. My secrets and silence have caused nothing but problems. At the very least, Aleta would have plenty to say on the subject if I was revealed to be keeping information from them again. And I don’t much feel like enduring another lecture.

  I nod to Caden. “Your da’s always been fascinated with the idea of controlling Elementals. He conscripts them. He allows twisted madmen like Larsden to experiment with Elemental abilities.”

  Caden’s mouth tightens with the mention of Larsden and what his father had allowed him to do. Liam, intent on my explanation, bends toward me with brows furrowed and fingers curled around thoughtfully pursed lips.

  “The fact that there weren’t any Water Throwers on the continent before I Revealed wasn’t a coincidence,” I say slowly. “Aunt Helen told me that the Nereids have a way of tying abilities down—making it so that someone would either need to be a Nereid or stand upon their shores to unlock their latent abilities. I don’t know the finer points of it all, but it seems an exact science.” I dart a glance at Master Izador to ensure I’m not mucking up this explanation too horribly. He nods, motioning for me to continue. “They have to find those tiny parts of the element inside each Elemental and sort of…I dunno…” I twine my fingers together and tug, shrugging helplessly. “…knot them into themselves.”

  Liam jerks back as if evading a blow.

  “That’s…worrying?” Meddie guesses, eyeing him.

  “You don’t know the half of it.” He runs an agitated hand through his hair. “The thing is that we’re sort of all Elementals at heart. At least, if you believe in the myths…”

  Caden straightens almost imperceptibly—almost. My eyes narrow on him. He keeps doing that. Not that he’s ever inattentive. The issues we discuss are far too important to warrant any sort of inattention from him. But he does seem to concentrate just a bit more when we discuss matters of mythology. Of the Makers, of the first Elementals. Almost as though he’s looking for some sort of clue.

  But what mystery he’s trying to solve, I couldn’t say.

  Lilia nods stoutly. “I see what you mean,” she says. “The Makers hoped to tie all of us to the earth, so while some—the Elementals—are more attuned to it than others…”

  “There’s also the rest of us normal folk who have to muddle through without making pretty sparks and water droplets dance about,” Meddie finishes. Aleta isn’t the only one who glares at her; Elena, Tregle, and I all frown at her blithe tone, belittling our abilities. She holds up her hands in a mock-surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” she apologizes. “But what does it all mean?”

  “If I catch Sir Liam’s drift properly,” Caden says slowly, “and I think that I do, it means that if my father were to possess this key to locking Elemental abilities that the Nereids have, he may not only use it to keep an Elemental’s power from developing. He may very well be able to reverse engineer that into bestowing powers upon those who don’t have them. He’d be able to cultivate the perfect army. Take away powers from those who don’t obey—”

  “And grant th
em to those loyal to him,” I finish, with dawning horror. Chills raise the hair on my forearms. Makers, I hadn’t even considered that. I’d gotten only so far as him keeping it from the ones it belonged to.

  “Worse,” Liam says grimly. “He could bestow them upon himself.”

  We’re all quiet in the wake of that thought. King Langdon with a power that’s not simply one of tight control and a command over others. Makers, if he could wield an element—or elements for that matter… I shudder. I hardly want to entertain the notion. We’d thought he was destructive with Ruin’s Reaping in his hands, but by the ether, every time I think things are as bad as they could get with Langdon, he manages to prove me wrong.

  “Enough of that,” Aleta waves a hand as if wiping away these troubles. She’s been fairly quiet up until now, but she stands now and looks around at each of us. “Haven’t any of you bothered to ask yourselves why King Langdon would position this Shaker in Lady—in Breena’s home village? It seems obvious that this is some sort of a trap.”

  “Wise,” Elena grants with a tilt of her head, considering. “And if it’s a trap, we can ill afford to go barging in without backup.”

  “We’ve got the Nereid Water Wielders. If that’s the order I give them, they’ll defend us without question,” I say, uncomfortable with how easily it comes to my lips, this newfound leadership and authority. “And Liam’s men…?” I turn to him, questioningly.

  He nods. “They’ve stuck with us this long. They’ll see it through until the end.”

  “The people made it through the blaze,” Lilia says, quietly to Caden. “The ones that there wasn’t room for on the Sumerki when we fled. Elena and I found many of them in the city. They were willing to fight against the King before. Now that many of them have lost something, they’re willing to give anything to take him down.” Her expression hardens. “I know that I am.”

  Elena places a hand on her shoulder and squeezes while Lilia gropes back for the reassuring touch, letting out a deep sigh. The reminder of her lost family has put us each in mind of all that we’ve lost to get this far. I know thoughts of my birth parents and Da swill about my mind, and I feel certain Elena is thinking of her dead twin sister.

  Meddie puts a thoughtful finger to her lips. “So if we go straight for him and it’s a trap, we’re finished before we’ve started. All right, then.” She toys with the hilt of one of her daggers. I wonder if she realizes how often she reaches for them when she has a difficult problem that she needs to mull over. “Any thoughts on how to level the playing field?” She looks to Liam. “Didn’t you say that your family used to have a fair bit of Shakers scattered around the branches of its family tree? Any of those branches still alive and blooming?”

  He coughs uncomfortably. “One. Though as branches go, it’s a…distant one.” He turns apologetically to Caden. “In fact, Highness, I think you may have already explored said branch before you arrived in Clavins and found it less than fruitful.”

  “You’ll have to be more specific,” Caden says, crossing his arms and frowning. “We stopped at a great many estates who refused us troops or aid.”

  Liam grimaces. “From what Lady Lilia’s said, it wasn’t an outright refusal, so much as…an expression of being entertained by the whole affair?”

  Lilia straightens, eyes widening as she smacks Liam on the arm. “You never said you were related to the bastard!”

  “Ow! He’s just a distant cousin.” Liam rubs at his arm and glares at her. “You’re not some delicate flower petal, Lady Lilia. You might have held a bit of your strength in check for an ally.”

  Lilia whirls to Caden. “We are not going back there,” she says emphatically. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how soon after we left that your father’s troops caught up to us with Reaping. I don’t think either of us believes that to be pure coincidence. Remember how many soldiers we lost? Remember how very near it was that we escaped with our lives? It is not. Worth. The risk,” she enunciates.

  “Who are we talking about?” Meddie asks what we’re all thinking, turning, mystified, from Liam to Lilia and Caden.

  “Macon Jospuhr,” Caden says with a heavy sigh, dropping his head to his hands to massage his temple. “We’re talking about the ever-ambivalent Lord Macon Jospuhr.”

  Seventeen

  Aleta

  I am already cold. The climate in Clavins has ensured that. But an additional chill skitters up my spine when the name Macon Jospuhr is uttered.

  Like many at court, I had always felt that there was something a bit…unsettling about Lord Jospuhr. Caden and I had privately agreed upon that, strolling the palace halls, muttering under our breaths to each other.

  I stiffen, turning to Caden. Memories of Jospuhr—sitting beside King Langdon, lips curling over a private joke as the two of them looked at me—flit through my mind. I suppress a shudder, struggling to keep my face blank; my tone, casual.

  “Somehow, you neglected to mention to me that you’d had time to visit with Lord Jospuhr,” I drawl, heart pounding.

  His lips stretch in a false smile, palms raised in a facsimile of a shrug. “It must have slipped my mind?”

  I glare at him, batting the poor attempt at an excuse away. “I must side with Lady Lilia here. Visiting Jospuhr again is a…less than brilliant idea.” This is a diplomatic method of saying that it is the worst idea—and one I wouldn’t have thought Caden, master strategist that he’s supposed to be, capable of developing.

  “I know.” He rakes his hands through his hair. “I know,” he repeats emphatically, tugging on the ends of the locks, when my glare stays firm.

  I cast a sidelong glance at Tregle. It’s a blessing his hair is cropped short. The males among us seem to be close to tearing their hair out over the merest suggestions these days.

  Bree holds out a hand, trying to insert a pause into our conversation. “Let’s just—let’s hold for a moment,” she says. Her hair whips around her neck as she looks at each of us in turn. “I’m sure if you’re this adamant about it, the man is bad news, but…” She sighs, aggrieved. “Why would we need him in the first place?”

  “My—” Liam grits his teeth and clenches his fists. “—distant cousin has considerable financial backing, but—”

  “But more to the point,” I say. “The king allots a significant portion of troops to Jospuhr. Including Elementals.”

  I watch as the point lands home with Breena and she straightens. “And I’m guessing that includes a not insignificant portion of Shakers,” she says glumly.

  “Your guess would be accurate.”

  She and Caden exchange a look filled with heavy significance, and she holds his gaze steady, lowering her voice to address him as though the rest of us aren’t here. “What do you think?”

  His voice lowers to match hers, their connection rippling through the air before us all. “I think it is worth the risk, despite what they think. I believe surviving this long may have impressed Jospuhr enough that he’ll consider taking part in the games instead of remaining a spectator this time.”

  Lilia throws her hands in the air, but I’ve seen Caden like this before. There will be no arguing with him—though I’m certain Lady Lilia will try.

  “Well, then.” I fold my hands neatly in my lap, masking my nerves with decorum as I have so often in the past. “It looks as though we have an old associate to reacquaint ourselves with.”

  ~~~

  Lady Helen had supplied us with all that we’d need to make the journey from Clavins to the Egrian capital. We’d assumed, until proven otherwise, that King Langdon would be keeping his pet Shaker close. But stops in Abeline and Jospuhr’s estate—stops we’ve now determined we need to make—mean that her soldiers and ours need to have a conversation regarding where we’ll obtain the necessary supplies—or, at the very least, stretch what we have.

  I grow distant as the conversation dwindles into numbers and rations. Tregle’s fingers graze my arm inquisitively, and I come back to myself a bit, turning to
face him. His eyes are probing when he asks, “Walk with me?”

  “Of course.” I rise and my hand finds his.

  When we’re clear of the others, he tentatively lets fire play over our fingers, questing. Questioning. I shiver over the delicious sensation. I love that we share the same element. I love that I can let my guard down enough in our company that I have no need to stop my element from displaying what I’m feeling. Tregle and I can use our powers to communicate and touch on another level.

  But words will have to do here. And Tregle needs only one to address what’s on both of our minds.

  “Jospuhr,” he says, worriedly scanning my eyes.

  I swallow. Jospuhr had made a play for my hand when I was but a child. The man made my skin crawl, as though a million insects had suddenly burrowed into my veins when I found myself in the same room with him.

  The idea had been short-lived. Ultimately, His Majesty had felt it more…prudent to keep me tied in betrothal to his son and bloodline. If Caden hadn’t been the person of high moral character that he is, it would have guaranteed that I remain subjugated by the Egrian monarch.

  Makers, I can scarcely wait to see the cretin’s face when the king learns he’s had the wrong girl all along.

  My fist tightens, sparks racing over my knuckles as I revel in the thought.

  I can’t wait to send his face up into a cloud of flames. Can’t wait to hear his screams. That fire will be the sweetest of all. My hand clenches around Tregle’s, and he looks down at the fire racing over our entwined hands, its speed accelerating in my silent rage.

  “I’ll be fine,” I assure Tregle.

  I certainly will. The only ones who need to worry will be those who cross me.

  I will turn the throne of Egria to ash beneath Langdon’s body. I’ll scorch the escape routes his allies dare to try and take. None of them will go unpunished. I will raze them all to the ground.