Of Fire and Stars

by Audrey Coulthurst

  They must have caught Graybeard. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

  “But what about the Zumordan blade?” Denna asked. Shadow danced sideways a little, betraying Denna’s tension.

  “Figuring out the secret of the bowl takes precedence. We know that the Recusants are responsible for Casmiel. And discovering who the magic users are should lead us straight to the Zumordans behind it.”

  His logic didn’t make a whole lot of sense, especially from what I’d seen of Graybeard and the meeting he held at the abandoned Sanctuary. But before I could point out the rampant idiocy in the Directorate for the umpteenth time, Thandi urged his horse into a trot.

  I willed my eyes to burn holes through his red jacket as it bobbed through the trees. He didn’t deserve Denna; she would never reach her full potential with him. He’d have her writing letters and doing cresthaven tours and embroidering thrice-damned baby blankets her whole life when she could be researching for the Directorate and learning to be a true monarch instead of just a pretty face.

  Flicker increased his pace and tossed his head, reacting to the tension throughout my body. I had to think about something else or I’d end up unhorsed before we made it halfway into the hills. I fumed my way up the trail until we got to a meadow, the spread of golden grass a welcome escape. Flicker and I cantered away, making a loop around the edge of the field. I focused on his strides, hoping to find peace in the familiar three-beat rhythm of his hooves on the grass. My body took over from my mind, and I relaxed into the quiet place where nothing existed but me, Flicker, and our forward motion.

  I asked Flicker for a flying lead change as we turned toward the others, Thandi’s bright-red jacket and Denna’s deep-blue one beacons against the golden meadow. Flicker switched leads effortlessly, his chestnut ears pricked toward the other horses. I slowed him to a trot, then a walk, in no hurry to get close enough for conversation. Denna put Shadow through her paces in the distance. They looked like a pair now, a beautiful and delicate contrast to Thandi and Zin. I could barely remember Denna as the awkward beginner who fell off her horse because of a sneeze.

  “You’ve done your job, sister,” Thandi said as I rode within earshot. For once he seemed pleased with me, and it brought an unexpected swell of emotion. I couldn’t recall the last time he’d looked at me with gratitude or approval.

  “She truly has,” Denna said. “I might have been able to learn without her, but I don’t think I would have found so much joy in it.” Her face was radiant as she spoke.

  “In fact, she rides so well I don’t think you need to teach her any longer,” Thandi continued. “You can have your afternoons back to yourself. I’ll let Father know.”

  My brief moment of camaraderie with him shattered.

  “But I don’t feel ready!” Denna exclaimed, shooting me a panicked look.

  “You are.” I hated to agree with Thandi, but she was. For the purposes of what she needed to know, she had already surpassed the level of competence she required. To keep her in lessons would be selfishness on my part.

  “But—”

  “You can still ride Shadow anytime,” Thandi reassured her. “Perhaps we should plan to ride together regularly. I would like that.”

  A weight settled on my chest. Afternoons without her would be empty. He would take my place in her life as friend and confidant. As Thandi and Denna discussed their plans, I stayed silent, staring down at the dying grass beneath Flicker’s hooves. I did my best to maintain the facade that had once been second nature—complete impassiveness no matter what. But it simply wasn’t possible with Denna. Over the past moon she’d broken through all my walls, and now I lay defenseless.

  “Should we head back now?” Denna asked.

  Nausea dug its claws into my stomach, a sharp physical response to the thought of my future without her close.

  “Mare?” Denna finally looked over from Shadow’s back, concern in her glass-green eyes.

  “I don’t feel well,” I said, breaking away from her gaze to stare at Flicker’s ears.

  “Probably from riding the ghastly gaits on that cull,” Thandi joked.

  Denna nudged Shadow closer. “Truly, are you all right?”

  “Something from lunch must be disagreeing with me. Go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

  Thandi snorted in annoyance and spurred Zin toward the trail at a brisk trot.

  “Go,” I repeated, refusing to meet her eyes.

  “If you’re sure,” she said, slowly turning Shadow and sparing me one last glance before cantering off toward Thandi.

  As they disappeared into the trees, I dismounted and numbly sat down. Flicker lowered his head to nuzzle at the grass for something to eat. I waited to throw up, praying for some sort of release from my feelings, but the sickness never came.

  Half a moon passed in which I didn’t see or hear from Denna, and both my life and the weather grew colder. Autumn had finally arrived. My few invitations to her were met with regretful declines that cut closer to the bone each time. There was always something else on her schedule—she had been swept fully into court life with room for little else. I missed her with a kind of smarting ache that stirred to life with the smallest reminders: when the shimmering sound of a harp drifted from one of the drawing rooms as I paced through the castle late one night, when I rode through the field where we’d nearly been shot, and when a server at the Deaf Dog brought me the wrong drink and I found myself with a mouthful of apricot beer.

  The evening after the apricot beer and a failed attempt to track down someone who might know Morland’s whereabouts, I returned to my chambers to find a sealed note from Denna on my vanity. Initially, I didn’t even want to look at it. I lingered in my bath, hiding from the chilly weather and easing away the faint aches left in me by a hard ride and my trip into town. I didn’t know what to expect. Probably a polite thank-you note for the lessons, or maybe an invitation to another social event where I’d get all of five minutes of Denna’s time before my brother dragged her away. It crossed my mind to simply burn the note unopened.

  But by the time the bathwater grew cold, I had resigned myself to reading it. I sat down at my vanity swathed in a robe, pulling the thick fabric around me as though it might protect me from the contents of Denna’s note. The wax seal, which was deep purple and embossed with a lone pine tree and a star, separated easily from the paper and left a plum-colored stain on the parchment.

  Dearest M,

  I need to talk to you. Please meet me in the back garden three sunlengths after dark.

  Yours, D

  I folded the note and then immediately unfolded it and read it again, my heartbeat echoing in my ears. She wanted to see me alone. I told myself not to get excited over something so small, but I couldn’t slow the beating of my heart.

  Drying myself in a hurry, I pulled out my black breeches, then second-guessed myself and pulled out all the darkest dresses I had, tossing everything onto the bed. By the time my hair was almost dry, the room had devolved into total chaos. I sent Sara away when she tried to assist me—I didn’t want her knowing my plans. When Nils showed up to get me for dinner, he found me in the midst of the disaster, still wearing nothing but underclothes.

  “Whoa. Should I even try to come in here?” He picked his way over the discarded garments on the floor until he got close enough to envelop me in a hug.

  “Shut up,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

  “Is someone coming courting tonight?” He pulled back and winked.

  “Hardly!” I turned away with flushed cheeks.

  “So what are you wearing? We’re going to get lousy spots at the table if you don’t have something picked out. And I’m guessing that underdress wasn’t what you had in mind.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I need a dress, but it has to be dark.”

  “I think you should wear this one,” he said, picking up a deep-blue dress off the bed.

  “Why? I already rejected that one on the basis of breasts. As in too much of th
em showing.”

  He grinned. “But that’s exactly the basis on which it’s a good idea. Especially if you’re trying to impress someone.”

  “You’re disgusting.” Denna was a friend, and a tight dress would probably have limited impact on her. Though I had to admit her reaction to my attire at the last music event had been quite rewarding.

  “I know you too well, Mare. Something is going on with you. But I won’t question it. A lady should always have her secrets.”

  “As long as her secret doesn’t involve what she caught from the last liegeman she bedded. Right, Nils?” I waggled my eyebrows.

  “Now you’re the disgusting one,” he laughed. “Truly, wear this dress. It looks smashing on you.”

  “All right.” I finally gave in, pulling the dress over my head. “Can you lace me up? Surely you know how after the number of girls you’ve had in and out of their dresses.”

  “Well, sometimes I don’t take them all the way out of their dresses for that reason,” he said.

  “Lace it already, bonehead. You don’t even have to do it tight. I like being able to breathe.”

  “As you wish, my lady,” he said, pulling the laces snug.

  After a merry dinner with Nils and his friends, I excused myself to sneak out to the garden. I slipped into the closest servants’ stairwell outside the great hall to avoid the patrolling liegemen, walking to the back gardens using a convoluted route and listening carefully for anyone else who might be outside.

  Despite my paranoia, the night was still and cold, even the animals safe in their nests and dens. As I got closer to my destination, it occurred to me that Denna might be putting me on, or that Thandi could have sent the note. I tried to quell the ragged beating of my heart by sheer force of will, my breath fogging in front of me in the crisp autumn air.

  When I finally arrived in the back garden, it stood empty. I settled myself on a stone bench on the north side of the square yard, shuffling my feet against the flagstone path. I shivered in the dark, tucking my hands deep into the folds of my cloak and holding my arms close against my body. I wished I knew the exact time. Was I early or late?

  As I stood up to pace to keep warm, Denna appeared, like a shadow separating itself from the darkness. She stepped through the other side of the garden to smile at me, her eyes shining from beneath the hood of her cloak.

  “I’m so glad you came!” She rushed up to me.

  “Of course.” I smiled.

  “It’s freezing out here.” She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and bounced in place.

  “Your suggestion, not mine. You could always have me scaling your walls again to climb in your window,” I joked.

  “Next time you’re welcome to do that. In fact, maybe I should have you teach me how to climb too.”

  I laughed at the serious expression on her face. “I doubt Thandi would approve of his wife scaling stone walls in the middle of the night.”

  “Probably not, but it’s not for him to say.”

  “Isn’t it? What’s going on, Denna?” I asked.

  “It’s all my fault,” she said woefully, sitting down on the bench from which I’d stood up a few moments before.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s all my fault,” she repeated, hanging her head as her smile faded.

  “Explain.” I sat down beside her. She turned to me, her face pale in the moonlight.

  “I spoke to the king a few weeks ago.” She took a breath. “I heard that someone was going to make an offer for your hand.”

  “What?” It was the first I’d heard of any such thing.

  “I’m fine with that if you want to get married, truly I am. But I hadn’t heard anything about it from you, which made me think that maybe you didn’t know. Then I got worried. And a little selfish. I don’t want the king to send you off unless it’s what you want, so I tried to explain to him how important you are to me. Instead, they’ve ended my lessons and scheduled every day until the wedding up to the hilt. Games in the parlor. Poetry readings in the garden. A fashion show and discussion with the lady courtiers.”

  I groaned. It all made sense now. Any interest in me on Denna’s part undoubtedly made my father and brother eager to separate us so that I wouldn’t be a bad influence. If they had been planning a marriage for me, removing Denna from my daily life might make marriage seem like a more reasonable option.

  “Oh, please don’t be angry.” She clutched my arm. “I . . . I can’t lose you. You’re the only thing that matters to me here, the only one who has made me feel at home . . . well, not at home exactly, but alive. Happy. I feel so many things I didn’t know I could feel, and it’s all because of you. I value your opinions and your thoughts, and you’re so perceptive, and I can’t be here and do this without you, I can’t.”

  “Oh, Denna,” I said softly. I wasn’t upset with her. Every word she spoke I could have said about her in return. But I didn’t dare confess that. “I’m not angry,” I said. “But you’re right—it could be because of your talk with my father that Thandi’s been putting together all these events. My father probably thought you were getting too close to me and didn’t want you to be corrupted by my influence.”

  “I know, but my intention was exactly the opposite. I wanted him to see how good you are, how wonderful you are. All he’s missed out on by not keeping up with you and paying attention to what you have to say. Now I’ve made a mess of everything, and it is all my fault, and I’ll miss you so much—” She bit her lip.

  “Shhh, it’s all right,” I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. Her teeth chattered, and I held her close to ward off the chill. My pulse raced as she nestled into my arm. She felt perfect there, the sweet rosy smell of her hair warming me as though summer had never left.

  “I’ll always be your friend,” I said. And though the words were true, they didn’t quite feel like enough. But what more could I offer?

  “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” Denna said, and startled me by throwing her arms around my neck.

  She held me a moment, and then a moment more, and I cautiously returned her embrace. She melted into my arms, tucking her head up against my neck.

  “I’m sorry it’s so cold out,” she whispered, her voice muffled by the folds of my cloak. “This is no way to meet. I have to see you again—I don’t care what Thandi plans.”

  “I want to see you again too.” The intensity between us frightened me. It felt like it could go in a dangerous direction, but there was no way I could turn away from it.

  “We’re going to have to work something out,” she said firmly, pulling back from my embrace. “We still need to figure out who was behind the forgery of that knife.”

  Grudgingly I let her go, the cold rushing in to surround me again.

  “Do you have anything in mind?” I asked. “Because this garden is only going to get colder when winter comes, and there will be even more eyes on you now. If we start visiting each other, they’ll only rearrange your schedule to make it impossible all over again.”

  “Ugh!” She swatted a bush with her hand. “We’ll have to be creative. How hard was it for you to climb that wall when you broke into my rooms that first time?”

  “Oh, Hells,” I said. “I was sore for two days afterward.”

  “I have an idea,” she said excitedly. “Ropes! Ropes from the barn. Can we get some rope, or some extra halters? We’ll make something that makes it easier for you to climb.”

  “We always have lots of old halters lying around. I’ll see about it tomorrow,” I said. Her cleverness delighted me.

  “Good. Then we’ll meet tomorrow night, my rooms, after whatever nonsense they’ve planned for me. Four sunlengths after dinner should be late enough. A great deal has happened at court.”

  “I haven’t had much luck in town, but we should still compare notes. I’m in.”

  “Really? I know this is crazy. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

  “I’d
visit you even if you were on the fifth floor and I had to figure out a way to fly,” I said.

  “Mare!” she exclaimed, and hugged me again. “I’m so glad.” She pulled back slowly, her breath misting into the dark. She stared into my eyes, searching there for something. I had no idea what she was looking for, though her eyes were filled with hope and fear, and something else I couldn’t identify. I knew what I wanted her to see—that I would always be there for her in any way I could.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she finally said, briefly cupping my cheek with her cold hand before hurrying out of the garden.

  I sat on the bench, shivering with the chill caused by her absence, and not completely sure what to make of our exchange except that she wanted to see me. She wanted me to come to her window tomorrow. It was enough.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Dennaleia

  COOL NIGHT AIR BLEW THROUGH MY BEDROOM, making the flames in my hearth flicker and spark behind the fire screen. Shivering, I moved closer to the warmth, holding my hands toward the rearing horses that decorated the metal. The horses had wind-tossed manes like the ones on the fences and gates that Mare and I had walked past out in Lyrra. Even now, I could almost taste the bittersweet beer and feel the comfort and freedom of being close by Mare’s side. She would arrive soon if everything went according to plan.

  Behind me, a knotted series of halters and ropes trailed from the thick wooden leg of my bed out the open window. Procuring them had been as easy as Mare promised—she had smuggled them in through the barn tunnel, packed them up in a gift box covered in bright ribbons, and had her maid deliver them to my chambers.

  Sitting through a hideously dull poetry reading with a pleasant expression on my face earlier in the evening had been easy. Knowing I would soon see Mare made everything bearable. Thandi had remarked on how happy I looked, and I responded that the poetry was especially lovely. It wasn’t true, but that didn’t matter. The dim light of the parlor had made his blue eyes look the exact same shade of gray as Mare’s. Seeing pieces of Mare in him brought an easy smile to my face. If getting to see Mare made my time with Thandi more enjoyable, it was one more way that she made my life better—one more reason that I could not ever lose her.