Nightspell

by Leah Cypess

Page 23

  Author: Leah Cypess

  “Of course. ” She smiled. “But I wasn’t talking to you. ”

  Awkward silence fil ed the air between them until Varis broke it by turning to Cal ie. He noted that Darri’s dagger was in its sheath, and wondered what had happened to convince her to put it away. “What are you doing here?”

  His sisters exchanged glances. Cal ie said, “I wanted to talk to Darri without anyone knowing. ”

  “Anyone,” obviously, meant him. No one else could possibly care that two foreigners were talking to each other. Varis stepped away from Kestin. “And you had to come al the way down here to do it?”

  “That wasn’t their doing, I’m sure,” Kestin almost snarled. Anger radiated from him palpably as he stared at “That wasn’t their doing, I’m sure,” Kestin almost snarled. Anger radiated from him palpably as he stared at Clarisse, but Varis doubted it was because of their presence in the caves. “What were you thinking, Clarisse? You know they shouldn’t be here. They’re alive. ”

  Clarisse sat on a raised rock outcropping, using one hand to sweep her skirt around her legs and away from the ground. “Actual y—”

  Darri cut her of with no at empt at subtlety, and with a frightened look at Varis. “How did you find us?”

  “Your dagger leaks,” Varis said, unable to hide the smugness in his voice. Her eyes narrowed, and he said, “It was a reasonable precaution. I knew you would do something foolhardy, and apparently I was right. What were you thinking? Or is it naïve to assume you were thinking at al ?”

  “Clarisse,” Darri snapped, “decided we should go looking for the Defender. ”

  “And we found him,” Cal ie added. At the very end of the sentence, her voice broke. She stepped backward, toward the edges of the cavern, so that the light didn’t touch her face.

  “The Defender,” Varis repeated, and looked sideways at Kestin. The prince didn’t notice. He was staring at Clarisse with his jaw clenched.

  “It was a very informative encounter,” Clarisse murmured, and the timbre of her voice pul ed his gaze back toward her. She was looking straight at him, as if Kestin didn’t exist; and she was, clearly, enjoying herself.

  Varis turned to his sisters, noting the tight grimness of Darri’s face. That expression never boded wel , but for the first time in his life he knew how she felt. Until his own encounter with the Defender, he had thought it was stupid, the way she kept fighting even when she couldn’t possibly win.

  “I think,” he said, “that we should get out of these caves. ”

  “That would be a good idea,” Clarisse said, crossing her ankles. “Of course, I’m the only one who knows the way. But perhaps if you ask nicely . . . ”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Kestin snapped. “The dead wil show me the way out. ”

  She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Not if I don’t want them to. ”

  Kestin stepped back on one foot, as if preparing to draw a sword and lunge. “Why would they listen to you?”

  “At the moment,” Clarisse said, “I am the second most powerful ghost in existence. ”

  Kestin didn’t lunge. He stood completely stil , staring at her with wide, dark eyes. Her tone was so cool and uncaring, as if she were talking to a stranger—or an enemy—that Varis couldn’t help a pang of sympathy.

  Kestin’s voice was a strangled whisper. “Did you ever love me at al ?”

  “Do you stil care?”

  “I shouldn’t have to. ” His hands knot ed and unknot ed. “You shouldn’t be here. ”

  She shrugged and looked away, leaving Kestin standing like an abandoned child in the center of the cavern.

  Darri took a step toward him, then stopped short. Her throat convulsed.

  Varis didn’t like that. He could feel the dead watching them, and he liked that even less.

  “Did you know,” Darri said, glaring at Clarisse, “that the Defender was going to kil Prince Kestin?”

  The silence was long and frozen. Kestin’s mouth worked for a moment. When he spoke, it was once again to Clarisse, not Darri. “Is that true?”

  “It is,” Clarisse said lightly, but she was speaking to Darri. The tension between the three was tangled enough to choke on. “He kil ed both of them. Congratulations on figuring that out. Have you figured out why yet? Or why you’re here?”

  Both of who? But Varis knew bet er than to ask. It was an odd feeling, to be excluded from a circle of knowledge, deemed not important enough to be given information. Darri must feel like this al the time.

  “The Guardian,” Cal ie whispered from the shadows, “was the one who brought me here. Not the Defender. ”

  “But he brought us here for a reason,” Varis said. “And that reason has something to do with the Defender. I think the two of them are on the verge of war. ”

  “How perceptive. ” Clarisse rested her hands on her knees, stretching her shoulders back. “Except it’s gone a bit farther than the verge. And it’s not just them who are at war; it’s their fol owers as wel . The peace between the living and the dead is about to be broken. ” She laughed softly. “I would bet on the dead, if I were you. ”

  Kestin drew in a breath, took another step toward her, then turned and strode instead to the other side of the cave. Just before he reached the shadows, he whirled again. “The peace is strained, yes. But not to the breaking point. If war was imminent, someone would have told me. ”

  “Do you real y think so?” Clarisse’s eyes glinted. “You may be the prince of the dead, their long-awaited hope, but don’t think they trust you completely. You’re too new. You have too many ties to the living. ”

  “We al have ties to the living. ” Kestin sliced his arm downward. “Friends, family, neighbors. The living and the dead live side by side, interconnected. We have for centuries. That’s not going to change. ”

  “Kestin,” Darri said, and the familiar way she said his name made Varis’s eyes narrow. But Kestin just looked at her, his eyes pitch-black against the shadows behind him. “Think about it. If you’re their long-awaited hope, what is it they’re hoping for? As the first dead king of Ghostland, you are either a large step forward in the power of the ghosts, or the spark that ignites a conflict between the living and the dead. A conflict the dead would probably win. Either way, the Defender gains from your death. ”

  Kestin reached out a hand, touching the rock wal as if to steady himself, though the rest of his body hadn’t moved. “How could the Defender know my father would insist that I inherit? I didn’t know. . . . ”

  moved. “How could the Defender know my father would insist that I inherit? I didn’t know. . . . ”

  “Your father had no choice,” Varis said. “Not with Cerix as second-in-line. Haven’t you ever wondered why Cerix is stil alive, when so many of the dead must itch to make him one of them? The Defender probably commanded that he be left alone, just to ensure your father’s choice. ”

  “Did he?” Kestin asked Clarisse. “Is that why you haven’t—”

  “It’s not why,” Clarisse said sharply. “I fol ow orders only when it suits me. ” She stood abruptly, her skirt fal ing in folds against her legs. “But yes, Prince Varis is correct. The Defender commanded the dead to leave Lord Cerix alive. ”

  Varis felt an irrational surge of pride; irrational because he shouldn’t care what a dead girl thought, and also because it wasn’t him, real y, who had figured this out. It was Darri.

  Darri, who knew things he did not. And had no real reason to share them with him.

  He met his sister’s gaze through the wavering torchlight, and felt again the sense of kinship that had made him give her the dagger. Wel , the dagger had been partly a trick, but even so. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so quick to reject the thought of working with her.

  “Why?” It was an anguished whisper; the dead prince was as stil as a statue at the edge of the cave. “Why me, and why now?”

  Clarisse
shrugged. “You could always summon him and ask. ”

  “Would he come?” Kestin said bit erly. “If I’m just a figurehead?”

  “An important figurehead,” she said, in a tone that was meant to sound soothing—but, judging by its mocking edge, not to actual y be soothing. “The Guardian and the Defender both have a nostalgic respect for monarchy. It’s one of the Defender’s few weaknesses. ”

  Kestin turned away; just a jerk of his head, but it put his face in shadows. Clarisse watched with her lips pursed. Varis did not recognize the expression on her face, but he knew it was neither love nor sympathy. She opened her mouth, and Darri interrupted swiftly, “His weaknesses?”

  Clarisse shrugged. “Even immortal creatures have weaknesses. ” Her lips flickered upward, briefly and bit erly. “But yes, Kestin, you could cal him. And he might come. If you ask for his protection, he wil certainly come. ”

  “And then I could look at my murderer and be unable to do anything about it?” Kestin whipped his head around to face them and took two quick steps into the torchlight. Cal ie, stil in the shadows, made a smal whimpering sound. Varis looked over at her sharply, but he stil couldn’t make out her expression. She was so stil and silent he had almost forgot en her; but she had always been that way, soft and weak and forget able, especial y in the face of Darri’s fierceness.

  “Do you stil want to do something about it?” Clarisse pushed her hair back from her face with both hands; in the torchlight, her features were unearthly. “I would have thought you might have started enjoying your existence again, by now. Especial y since you know I’m here to share it with you. ”

  Kestin flinched as if she had hit him, and Darri’s breath hissed between her teeth. She started toward the dead girl. Varis, recognizing her intent expression, grabbed her by the upper arm and pul ed her to a stop. She shook him of , but didn’t continue her advance.

  Kestin glanced swiftly at Darri, then glared at Clarisse. “You think that’s what would resign me to this half- existence? The company of someone else who should be gone?”

  “Then what would resign you to it?” Clarisse said softly.

  “My duty,” Kestin said. “To Ghostland. ”

  Clarisse drew her hands down the back of her neck, let ing her hair fal around her face again. “If you were interested in your duty, you wouldn’t be running away from it. That you even considered al owing Cerix to take your place doesn’t speak very wel of your concern for your country, my dearest. ”

  He flinched again, but this time he lifted his chin. “A ghost’s first duty is to seek out his murderer. ”

  Clarisse’s eyes gleamed. “And now that you’ve found him?”

  Kestin took a deep breath and drew his shoulders back. “Now I think it’s time,” he said, “that I accept my position as heir. ”

  The air moved suddenly around them, lit le wisps and shimmers that made Varis’s skin creep. In the shadows, the wal s looked like they were dancing. Of course . . . the dead had been waiting for this. For Kestin to give up on vengeance, and become what they wanted him to be.

  And now that he knew the Defender had kil ed him, he had no choice but to give up.

  So much for marrying Darri to the king of Ghostland. Varis strove not to let his frustration show. There would be no royal wedding now . . . unless he could manage to spur Cerix into trying a coup. He would have to first figure out the chances for a coup’s success, then decide which of Cerix’s advisers would be amenable, then suggest Darri and the Rael ian al iance as a goad. It was a stretch, even for him, but he might pul it of . . .

  . Even if it meant placing both his sisters in the middle of a succession crisis. Chances were that at least one of them would be kil ed by the time the dust set led. That in itself wasn’t so bad—any Rael ian should be wil ing to die for her people—but if Darri was kil ed here, she would come back as one of them.