She couldn’t answer. There were no words. She stared at the ground, barely aware of another shower of raindrops that dampened her neck.
Twist sighed. “I’d thought you’d be... but no.” He touched her arm and when she flinched, he put his hands on her shoulders.
“Kiar, you know you’re important to me, even if you’re not my apprentice anymore.”
“Sure,” she mumbled. “Of course. You’ve said.” She looked anywhere but his face, and wished the ground would swallow her up. Unbidden, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. No, no. It was thoughts like that which made it so impossible to talk to him.
She wrenched herself away. “Please—,” she said, and stopped. There was nothing she could say. She longed to tell him about the phantasmagory world, and her sense that the inhabitants lived. Maybe he could help her understand why that bothered her so much. But words dried up in her mouth. She wanted to complain to him about Tiana’s decisions; he’d know what she meant, that she wasn’t rebelling, just expressing herself. But her mind was a blank. And she yearned to cling to him, to hide from the rain in his arms, under the coat or cloak or his smile, anything would do, as long as it was him.
Twist bounced on his toes. “I have fewer tools out here, it seems. Back home, I had ways of making you talk.” He mimed spilling something from his hands, and she blinked at him. “No? Nothing?” He sighed.
“Please,” she whispered. “Leave me alone. I—I have to concentrate. On the aegis. It needs attention.”
It started raining in earnest. For a moment, the patter of rain on leaves was the only sound. Then he said, “Of course.” He hesitated a moment longer. “Do you enjoy it? Being the only person who can go there and see those things? Would you share it if you could?”
“Yes,” she said. “And yes. To both. Please, please go.”
His expression changed before he silently vanished, skipping away. For a moment, she thought she’d seen hurt. Why had he asked those questions? She realized with a sharp wrench that perhaps he had wanted to talk to her about his magic, and his feelings about it.
She huddled under a tree and cursed. The foliage kept most of the rain off, but the drops leaking through were cold on her hot face. Indistinct shadows deepened. She wished for the phantasmagory, so that she could feel the familiar cool presences of Jerya and her father. Yithiere couldn’t give her affection, but she understood him, understood why, and that was comforting.
The shadow of a dead pine developed substance and texture, until Kiar realized another silhouette stood within, watching her. One of the forest children? She tried to pretend she didn’t notice, while watching back.
Slowly, as she studied the shape, a hideous new anxiety grew inside her, like the seed of some awful plant. When she couldn’t stand it any more, she called out, “I see you. Come out.”
An andani, one of the graceful, smooth black servants of Ohedreton, stepped out of the deepest shadow, and Kiar’s sick anxiety coalesced into a spike of fear. It bowed to her and she saw the wings borne by the previous avatar of Ohedreton himself. She tried to listen beyond her thundering heart, but she heard no outcry that would indicate other andani swarmed through the campsite.
“I’m glad you’re alone,” the andani said. “Or else we wouldn’t have this chance to talk first.”
It was some cruel joke, everybody wanting to talk to her. “What do you want? Are we going to fight again?”
It smiled. Perhaps it meant the expression to be reassuring, because it did not move any closer. But the andani had a very large mouth. “You’re clever. Far more clever than any of your kin. And they never appreciate that. No, I’m not interested in fighting with you. I’m quite happy to have that girl sitting, waiting, in a wet forest.”
“Really? You kept attacking us on the way here.” She wondered if she could edge close enough to grab at the eidolon-stuff of the andani so she could banish it.
“Oh, well, that. I had no more idea of the games the Dawn Daughter would play than you did. But now...” It took a companionable step towards her, hands spread.
Kiar stayed her ground, feeling increasingly steady in herself. “What are you doing now?”
“A little of this, a little of that. I found some interesting artifacts stored within the prototype of my prison.” The andani avatar meant the physical shell of the phantasmagory, which it had destroyed when it murdered the King. “I’ve made myself some champions from the remains. And I’m working on a very promising grafting technique.”
Frowning, Kiar tried to understand what he was saying. “Why are you telling me this? Why do you think I care?”
“I said. You’re smart. Do you know my story?”
“You served the Firstborn Innis, but you betrayed him and destroyed him. I read about it.” The creature wasn’t quite in reach.
“And after? No? Well, perhaps we’ll talk about that later.” It moved graceful fingers through the air. “I see you’ve been to my land. What do you think of it?”
“It’s dark,” Kiar said bluntly. “And strange.”
“And small,” sighed the andani. “My creation has so little room to grow. The foundation itself is flawed. But I was content with it, until the Firstborn turned Shin against me. Now, well. They’ve left this world, so it makes sense that I move in.”
“We’re still here!” She remembered the devastation left by the invading fortress, wondered again what had happened to the town it had swallowed.
“Yes. It’s a shame that your guardians have abandoned you, isn’t it?”
Kiar felt like a small child as she protested, “They haven’t. They’re guiding Tiana—”
“Oh and isn’t that an inspired choice? Making a champion of the girl corrupted by the mad sword. I wouldn’t put much faith in their guidance, if I were you. Here you sit, waiting for who knows what, while outside this forest—do you have any idea what’s happening in the rest of the country? I do.” It smiled again. “I’ve been everywhere.”
“You gain more if you can convince me to share your views. Sowing discord and all. No,” Kiar observed. “I’m wary of the blade, but I’m more wary of you.” She abandoned subtlety and held out a hand. “Come closer, so I can send you away again.”
“What if I’ve learned to avoid that trick?”
“Then I’ll learn a new one.” She lunged forward and the andani danced out of her reach, pirouetting prettily.
“Tell your friends I’m waiting here in the forest.” It backed away. Kiar, who had been planning on doing just that, paused.
“Why?” But she answered her own question. If Tiana and Cathay knew their enemy lurked in the forest,, they would go out looking for him.
“I’d love to meet the sword again. I have ideas there, too, but I need a better look. Won’t you help?” Its voice was sweet as candy.
She scowled and leapt for the andani, but it laughed and dodged her. So she slipped into the Logos sight and cast about, looking for the sky fiend that must have allowed the andani entry to this world.
The avatar cocked its head, a stomach-churningly alien movement. “I’m afraid I had to travel here as any man does. My slaves, the children of Innis, are occupied in other ways at the moment.”
“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.
“I like you, Kiar,” it whispered. “I hope you’ll make me proud.” It walked backwards until it faded into the woods.
Kiar shoved wet hair from her face and took a deep breath. She was torn between her desire to scamper back to camp before she was ambushed, and her desire to think. Dragging in another gasping breath, she put her back against a tree. He knew, he knew. Traveling as a man does. Somehow he’d used her lapse to find them. Her schoolgirl crush on her teacher was going to get them all killed.
She looked up into the dark trees. The forest children feared this, feared that Tiana and her companions would bring the Blighter into their woods. The Citadel of the Sky had been a wreck when they left. Would the Forest of Fel Dion fall as
well? Would that be on her head? What worse disasters could happen if she didn’t learn to control her emotions? If they didn’t stop waiting?
She pushed herself away from the tree and started back to camp. Somehow, some way, without explaining why, she needed to convince Tiana to move the camp into the open fields.
Chapter 21
The Call To Hunt
INCANDESCENT SPARKS SPIRALED around Lisette’s hand as she trailed it through the air. “Good,” said Twist. “Can you gather them up?”
Tiana watched anxiously. Kiar stood beside her, intermittently muttering about moving the camp, but Tiana couldn’t concentrate on Kiar’s words, not now. Especially not when Kiar spoke in the roundabout way she had when she didn’t want to upset anybody.
White-lipped, Lisette reversed her hand’s movement and the sparks came together like a cloud. She closed her fingers into a fist. When she opened them, a tiny ball of light glowed in the palm of her hand. Additional sparks drained into it, darting at the glow like stars falling into the sun. The rest of the campsite seemed darker and Tiana kept her hand on Jinriki.
Twist stared at the brilliance. “But now what?” He touched a single finger to one of the falling sparks. White light exploded, tendrils crackling through him. A sharp, clear note like vibrating glass grew until it shrieked and he flew backwards, landing in a boneless heap.
“No!” Lisette looked around wildly and then pushed the brilliance into the ground. Fingers of light spread out over the ground before fading.
Kiar recovered from her own breathless recoil and dashed over to Twist. The Logos-worker pushed himself up. “Astonishing. Ast—” He peered at his fingertip until his eyes crossed and then patted the top of his head. “Good hair. Astonishing.” He patted Kiar’s head as she bent down. “Very good.”
Kiar glared at him as she helped him to his feet, and his expression slowly cleared. “Did I already say ‘astonishing’?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. If only I—” A panicked wail from Lisette cut him off. She was staring at her hand, waving it frantically. Then she shoved her fingers into the dirt again. When she pulled them free, she started sobbing.
Tiana stared, biting her lip until she tasted blood. The pure light that had once crowned Lisette’s fingertips now stretched halfway down her fingers.
“Cathay!” she shouted, and found him right beside her. He reached for her hand and she stepped away. “Soothe her. Calm her. You know how to distract her. Be what she needs.” Before he could respond, she took two steps away and added, “Slater! You come with me.”
“Tiana,” said Cathay, his eyes wide, anguished. “I’m not—”
She shook her head. “I’m going to find this Voice and sort things out.” She unsheathed Jinriki and leaned the blade against her shoulder. “You take care of things here. Do it!”
Slater followed her into the woods. “How may I help, Your Highness?”
“Just... be here. In case....” She shook her head again. “Remember for me.” She couldn’t think, couldn’t spare time to see if he understood. She could still hear Lisette sobbing. “Jinriki. Find me that man. Jozua Harken.”
**Yes.**
She let her feet lead her, closing her eyes in relief as the forest swallowed all Lisette’s tears. The hunter’s camp was close, closer than she expected, and full of the sounds of rough, bored men. At the edge of their camp, she stopped and shouted, louder than she intended, “Where’s Jozua?”
Silence fell across the camp as a half-dozen uncouth, hairy men stared at her, and then at Slater behind her. One of them kicked a small tent and the big man himself crawled out, looking as if he’d just woken up.
“Princess,” Jozua said, as he brushed himself off. “What do you want?”
“Show me where you found Lisette.”
He raised his eyebrows at her until she was ready to snap at him again. “Sure.” He settled his weapons around himself and followed her back into the woods. “There wasn’t anything there. What are you looking for?”
“Whatever did that thing to her.” She tightened her fingers around Jinriki’s hilt. “We’ll see what’s there for ourselves.”
“Ah.” He regarded her curiously. “Do you really carry that sword like a club? It’s pretty big for a slip of a girl like yourself.”
“Yes,” said Tiana. “It’s very large, and I’m not a swordswoman. If you provoke me I might start swinging it around wildly. Somebody could get hurt.”
He laughed silently and walked through the forest ahead of her, moving with an ease that belied his size.
The clouds that had threatened a downpour the last few days finally delivered. The water seeped through the canopy in a thoroughly unpleasant way but Jozua didn’t seem to notice. The rain was probably the first bath he’d had in days.
“Here.” The spot wasn’t even a clearing. There was a large rock, with a fallen tree rotting to shreds on top of it. There was a depression in the ground where water puddled. And there was an extra dense canopy of leaves that gave way as they arrived, shedding a waterfall on Tiana’s head. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, and then slicked her hair away from her face.
“Right. Where was she? Did they just toss her on the ground?” Silently, Jozua pointed at the depression. “Lovely. You may go now, if you wish.” He shrugged and leaned against a tree and Tiana promptly put him out of her mind.
She reversed Jinriki and slid the point of the blade into the soil, deep enough that the sword would remain standing if she let go. “Get somebody’s attention, Jinriki.”
**Yes.** The sword practically purred. The hilt pulsed beneath her hands, and the forest grew darker. Shadows blurred together and the trees became twisted and inhospitable. The rain sharpened and flowed across the ground like a living thing.
“Your Highness!” Slater’s voice was strained. “Remember what you came to Fel Dion for!”
She did remember, but Lisette was sobbing. Wasn’t it for Lisette that she started on this road? Didn’t Lisette represent everything she was supposed to protect? The Firstborn had failed, and so it was only her.
The darkness shivered around her and the trees cast crimson shadows on the swirling forest floor. She would wait a few moments more before taking more direct action.
**Ah,** said Jinriki, and the toothed rain brightened until each drop sparkled and sang like crystal. The living darkness broke apart under a musical onslaught, and the shadows withdrew back into Jinriki’s blade. The rain tingled as it soaked her hair, until she forced the droplets away. Slater inhaled sharply, and Tiana supposed the renewed forest was beautiful to anybody else. All she felt was impatience, and banked fires.
“Well? Is this it?”
**An envoy is coming.**
Blurred shapes pushed through the underbrush, one large, one small. Tiana blinked water off her eyelashes and the figures resolved into a tall old woman holding the hand of a small boy, both barely dressed in green paint and bleached leather. “You must behave if you’re to stay here,” said the child, sternly. Tiana stared blankly at the child and then transferred her gaze to the old woman.
“If you would heed the Voice of Atalya, you may walk with us.” The woman’s eyes were a deep, pure green, and though she met Tiana’s gaze, Tiana felt it wasn’t her the old woman saw. The emerald light enfolded Tiana, pressing against her skin, and met the fire of her fury. She looked away, and nodded.
The chiming rain accompanied them through the forest as the greenery pulled away, a path opening ahead of them. The residents seemed oblivious to the music, but Jozua held out his palm and flung droplets from his fingers, fascinated. Slater said nervously, “It makes being wet a little more pleasant, doesn’t it?”
Jozua tucked his hand under his cloak again. “On the other hand, it makes it harder to sleep, and covers up the sound of somebody sneaking up behind you.”
**It’s a song,** sent Jinriki. **I almost remember it. A hymn.** Tiana felt the ache in his words. **Do not let the Voic
e convince you it is not cruel.**A clearing opened around them, more people garbed in leather and paint appearing from the green as the trees pulled away. A single enormous tree remained to dominate the center of the clearing. White-barked, it had massive limbs spreading from low on the trunk, and leaves the size of Tiana’s face. A nude alabaster figure with great white wings lounged on the lowest limb, like a self-indulgent monarch on a throne. At its right hand stood the siblings Fai and Cinai. The crystal rain clung to them and they seemed bright and precious.
The Voice of Atalya regarded Tiana with burning emerald eyes, then waved a hand. “At last. Welcome. You’ve brought the unpleasant one, we see. Well done.” A white and blue butterfly emerged from the Voice’s palm and fluttered over to Jozua. He moved to brush it away, but it landed on his mouth. All his movement stilled. His eyes closed and his breathing seemed to stop. The butterfly languidly flapped its wings.
“Jozua?” Concern made the name awkward on Tiana’s tongue.
“He is beyond your words, Your Highness.” The Voice stood. “But he will help us in a game.”
Tiana remembered Lisette’s story, and rage engulfed her again. Jinriki was a flame in her hand, and emanations stirred the air around her. “No games! Return Lisette to the way she was.”
“That is not within my power, Princess.” The Voice studied its fingernails. “But perhaps within yours, if you play the game and complete your task.”
Politics! Here! The shock of it swept her breath away. Her head swimming, she tried to understand what the Voice wanted her to do.
No. There was too much, it was just a game, an attempt to control her. She wouldn’t play. The Voice was talking like politics and that meant it lied. She needed to defend herself and Lisette.
What she remembered later was that Jinriki was silent, neither urging restraint nor encouraging her. What she heard at the time, though, was Slater.
He muttered, “Oh hell,” and stepped forward, catching her free hand in his own. His skin was cool and wet, and he smelled of crushed leaves and wood smoke. “Tiana,” he said urgently, awkwardly. “Where ever you’ve gone, you must come back. Today has been frightening, but you’ve always wanted to make decisions as yourself, as who you’ve chosen to be. You want to be more than the blood you bear. I’ve watched you, I’ve seen it. Come back. Don’t let your magic make decisions for you.”
Green Wild (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 2) Page 24
