Green Wild (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 2)

by Chrysoula Tzavelas

  Sluggishly, Jinriki said, **Decisions...**

  Slater squeezed her hand tightly. Such clumsy words. He wasn’t Lisette. Would Lisette be able to squeeze her hand again? Oh, painful thought. It would be so easy to just lose herself in her own rage, without even the phantasmagory to run to. How could a Secondborn do such a thing?

  Jerya used to read to Lisette and her from some of her political books. A memory from one of them rose now: “When you buy a ship from a politician, be assured you will receive the ship; but you will also receive the ship’s cargo, whatever it is.” The creature didn’t have to be lying. Perhaps restoring Lisette was beyond its power now. And perhaps there were secrets buried in its truths.

  Tiana wondered if Jerya had felt this rage when Iriss had been attacked, or even when Iriss had been restored, strange and different, barely human, a Regent no longer. If so, there’d been no sign of it in Jerya’s letter, crumpled in her skirt pocket. It had been calm and measured, reporting the news and dispensing general advice. Wear your cloak. Listen to Kiar. Try not to kill anyone.

  Jerya would want her to be good. She sighed and squeezed Slater’s hand back. Startled, he pulled away, and she let him go. She looked at his downturned, embarrassed face, and her attention was caught by Jozua, statue-still, behind him.

  “What is your game, Voice?” she asked, looking at how still Jozua was.

  “Excellent,” said the Voice. “I shall make yonder brave hunter into prey, and he will stumble among the briars and thorns. Where he bleeds, flowers will spring up, and the scent of his blood will pull all the Lady’s children from their dens to stalk him. Recall you what happened when the servants of the Lord of Winter were gathered together in his sacred place?”

  Better than you. Had the gathering mattered? In a great contest of wills, Jinriki had stolen their magic. In the profound silence after, something had touched each monk to release a tiny bit of Niyhan’s wisdom and power stored within them, transferred via dreams.

  “What would be my role?” Many of the forest children were already gathered, young and old, watching her with expressionless faces. Men and women, boys and girls, marked with paint and dressed in rags and furs. Most of them had green eyes, though on the fringes she saw brown and hazel eyes. Some sort of initiation rite?

  **The Secondborn’s favor.**

  Most of them had weapons: knives and small bows and darts.

  The Voice said, “Call the hunt. Release the hunters.”

  Jozua’s eyes opened but he was still frozen. She wondered if he could see and hear. Annoyed she’d ended up in a position to defend him, she snapped, “He isn’t an animal, to be hunted for your pleasure.” Why had he come along?

  The Voice lifted its head. “Not mere pleasure, but a sacred rite. You know of Maidrunning in the spring. It is autumn and the hunter is in the sacred forest; let the rite reverse itself.” A happy little smile played over that inhuman mouth.

  Tiana remembered again the dancing and the races of Running, She recalled what Berrin had said about children’s’ interpretations, and how he’d chased his sister down to push her into the mud.

  It spoke on. “And perhaps it will serve you in more ways than one. Red blood on the green wild. I have seen in the pool that this is something you care about.”

  She thought to Jinriki, **Can it really be so? You said it was cruel.**

  **I would happily drink its blood, but if a game is required to gather Atalya’s light, her Voice is the only one who knows the rules. Although I can’t fathom the point of this reversed ritual.**

  To gather the light... she thought, but no, it hadn’t said that, had it? It hadn’t even said the hunt was the game. Maybe this was the game, right now.

  Tiana shook her head. “That’s insane.” She glanced around at the watchers. “Do all of you think this is right, to serve Atalya with such bloodlust? None of you remember her as something gentle and kind?”

  “Gentle and kind outside, and in response, they only take and take from her. Sacrifice has become her duty,” said a creaky woman’s voice.

  Tiana swung around, looking for the source of the voice. While she was trying to decide which of two older women had spoken, Fai said, “We know the true Atalya.”

  “And she wants blood?” Tiana didn’t believe it.

  “He hunts my sister!”

  Tiana winced. She didn’t like Jozua’s ‘hunt’, but that didn’t matter. “It’s not the same. He wants to take her home, not kill her.”

  “Duty and desire,” said the Voice, smirking. “Now he is part of something much vaster than even he ever dreamt.”

  A quiet voice said, “I’d actually prefer he just left.” Cinai dropped her eyes as Tiana glanced at her.

  “Cinai, no!” said Fai. “We gave him that chance! He’s made his choice.”

  Cinai shrugged and hunched her narrow shoulders. “Atalya didn’t kill her captors. She didn’t hurt anybody.”

  Tiana recovered herself. “Yes. Listen to Cinai! She’s one of your own and her choice should matter.”

  Fai cried, “Give him his freedom and he will take hers, eventually!”

  Tiana thought of Jozua waiting in his camp. “Would he? Could he? From his campsite?”

  Fai scowled at Jozua’s still form. “He has his ways.”

  Near Cinai, a little boy holding a rabbit in his arms said, “I don’t want to hunt him either. If he stays in the forest too long, he’ll change, anyhow.” He looked up at Cinai, who ruffled his hair. Then he turned and wandered into the woods.

  The circle of observers rustled and a few other people muttered something before walking away. The butterfly on Jozua’s lips lifted away, leaving Jozua blinking. A strange rumbling laughter emerged from him.

  “What? What are you laughing at?” Tiana snapped.

  The laughter became a cough and then he said, “All this talk of freedom and choice. But from what she said, your Lady Lisette had none.”

  The Voice of Atalya lounged against its tree inspecting a wing, as if it didn’t much care that its audience was leaving and its game had fallen apart.

  **We’ve been talking. I don’t think it can take away the gift it forced on Lisette. Let’s just kill it.**

  Tiana seriously considered the idea, but Fai and Cinai, facing each other, distracted her again.

  Cinai said, “He’s right, Fai. If you want to champion somebody’s freedom, go take care of that poor girl the Voice hurt. I can make my own choices here.”

  Fai’s eyes slowly widened. He half-shook his head, frowned, and then looked from side to side like a trapped animal. In that other vision, the emerald light shuddered and flickered, like a guttering candle. Tiana reached out a hand. But the trembling remained: not a candle but leaves in the wind.

  Cinai raised her voice. “Go! Leave me alone for once. Help somebody who needs it, who our own patron has mistreated.” Her voice shook, and Fai stepped backward.

  “It was needful,” said the Voice, like a sulky child. “She wouldn’t accept the present and Somebody worked so hard on it, too.”

  Tiana, unsettled by the rapidly shifting light only she could sense, stared at the Voice. Only with the skill of long experience did she control the desire to shout. What did any of them know about choice?

  Fai turned his frown on the Voice and his shoulders straightened. Then he bowed to Tiana, as courtly as any of her suitors. Lisette was right; he was noble-born. Jozua had said something about Cinai being destined to be the mother of Dukes, hadn’t he? “May I accompany you to your camp and examine the mischief worked upon your companion?”

  “Do you think it will help?” She was savagely pleased when his control flickered to reveal wild, haunted eyes. The day wasn’t going as she’d planned, either.

  Fai closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he said, “I don’t know, but I will place what stock I have with the Lady Atalya at Lady Lisette’s service. My own sister commands it. How could I do otherwise?”

  The will to poke arou
nd inside the shell of glass thorns the boy maintained drained out of Tiana, until all that remained was tiredness. “Come along, then.” She looked past him to the Voice, who smiled. “Is this still your game?”

  Instead of answering, it swung back into its tree and went to sleep. Tiana was not surprised. “Come on,” she repeated, and turned to go back to her campsite. It wasn’t until she was almost back that she realized Jozua had not returned with them.

  Chapter 22

  The Channel

  NO LONGER CRYSTAL music, the steady rain shower promised dampness for days to come. Fai hardly seemed to notice the wet, and he was just as oblivious to Jozua’s absence. She ought to chase the hunter down and drag him back with her; he could only be causing trouble, left alone. She needed him in one piece at until she worked out how to extract the crimson light sleeping within him. After that he could go get himself hanged for all she cared.

  But she was tired, and afraid for Lisette, and so very frustrated. It was good the Firstborn had retreated from the world, because if one appeared before her now, she would shake them for making this so difficult. Their promised help had been a shining fairytale come to life and now she was cold and wet and things were creeping down her boots and worse things emerged every day from a hole in the world. Her sister’s letter, with its vivid description of the gap in the night, crumpled in her pocket.

  **I’m sure if your Firstborn could work faster, they would. They fear Ohedreton, you know that. Don’t believe they grant this gift out of love for your world.**

  Tiana sighed and recalled the sensation of the blue light washing through her. At that point, Niyhan had seemed wise and all-knowing. Confidence flowed naturally. How could the plan fail, whatever it was? She simply had to obey and collect the lights of the Firstborn. Then, somehow, it would all be made well again. They were the Firstborn and she wanted to obey them, but right now it felt like an impossible challenge.

  The sound of the campsite rose over the patter of the rain. Tiana pushed her way into the guards’ clearing where the rain came down in sheets. One man managed thee sputtering, steaming fire; the rest were either inside tents or building some sort of shelter out of cut branches. The fire tender sprang to attention, his gaze going past her to Slater and then to Fai.

  “Thank you for your escort, Lieutenant,” said Tiana. “Go do something else. You, Fai, come with me.”

  Fai barely raised his head, but at least stayed on her heels. In the linked clearing, Twist and Cathay spoke with Lisette under an open tent, while Kiar huddled on the edge of the trees, Minex perched on a branch near her. “There she is. Can you actually do anything for her, or is this a symbolic gesture?”

  Fai’s voice was low. “What happened to her?”

  “Your precious Voice forced her to take up a gauntlet that sank into her hand. Now her fingers are turning into light.”

  “Atalya’s Voice,” he murmured. “It values strength. Purity. I suppose...” he shook his head and moved to kneel before Lisette. “Lady Lisette, may I inspect your injury?”

  Above his head, Lisette met Tiana’s gaze. She was a mess, more rumpled and red-eyed than Tiana had ever seen her, but she looked curious rather than upset at the moment. Tiana forced herself to smile in return, until Lisette’s attention returned to the young man in front of her.

  **Will indulging her histrionics improve matters? It is power, even if it has unfortunate side effects.**

  Irritated, Tiana thought, **Sometimes I really don’t like you very much.**

  Almost mildly, Jinriki said, **I don’t like anybody very much, but your Lisette has earned more of my respect than most. Her current state of mind is alien to me. She doesn’t want the power. How can that be?**

  **I don’t know! Maybe it hurts. Maybe she doesn’t like how her hand is vanishing. We do like our hands, you know. Maybe she doesn’t want it because it was forced on her. I know forcing people to do things doesn’t bother you much but that doesn’t make it all right, it makes you a fiend.**

  Doggedly, Jinriki said, **She was not this upset when I used her to speak to you.**

  Tiana put her hands in her hair and turned away from Lisette and Fai. **You’re the mind-reader, sword.**

  **You’re the human, Tiana.** His voice curled around her like smoke.

  Kiar detached herself from the forests’ edge and moved towards her, and Tiana waved, glad of a distraction from Jinriki’s conversation. From his voice, from the way he said her name.

  “Look at her. I can’t think of anything better to cheer her up, can you?” Tiana nodded at Lisette, surrounded by three attentive men. She could actually think of all sorts of better things, but none of them were in the forest and Lisette had admitted she missed Cathay’s attention sometimes. That had to be worth something.

  Kiar didn’t even bother to look that direction, didn’t even make the pretense of attending as she said, “Yes. Tiana, we need to move the camp. Outside the forest, preferably.”

  This conversation wasn’t much better than Jinriki’s. “You keep saying this and I keep saying I’m not ready, Kiar. You’ve got to—”

  Kiar pushed pale wet hair away from her face with both hands. The whites of her eyes glinted in the dimming light. “No, listen. Earlier, I was distracted, and I dropped the aegis in the other world shielding our location from the Blighter. I re-established it, but...”

  Tiana gnawed on her thumbnail. “Do you know that he saw us? Is a sky fiend near?”

  “Other than Jinriki?” Kiar shrugged and pressed her lips together. “We hardly know what Ohedreton is capable of. Given that, we need to assume the worst.”

  Tiana wondered what had upset Kiar so much that she lost her iron focus; there were so many possibilities lately. Lisette, Jozua, Twist... ah, yes.

  Something was odd about her story. “We’re not moving right now because it’s raining and it’s almost night. But you re-established it? How did you do that?”

  Kiar blinked and frowned. “I don’t know.” She cast about. “I just... reached out and did it. Without a sky fiend, without needing to be present. Except I was present.” She chewed on her lip. “I have to think about this.”

  Tiana stuffed the damp letter from Jerya into Kiar’s hand. “Read this when you do think about it because it may matter. Eidolons behave differently in the gap in the night. If you’ve been maintaining one through the gap, that’s important.”

  Kiar took the letter, looked at it, and glanced up again, her brow furrowed. “All right. Later. How can I convince you we need to move the camp?”

  “I really think I’m getting close, Kiar. The green light is... trembling. We can’t leave.” Tiana watched Kiar draw breath to argue and added, “Ask me again in the morning. We’ll have all day to come up with a plan, then.”

  Kiar blew out her breath in a sigh. “I guess that will be all right. As long as nothing happens tonight.”

  Tiana smiled at her. “Exactly.” Kiar lowered her head and moved back to her tree.

  **She should have mobilized the camp for departure while we were gone, if she was really concerned.**

  Tiana dropped her gaze. **Hah. It’s Kiar. Everybody would look at her. She can’t do that.**

  **Certainly not if she never has to. You are too kind to your companions. They will never grow and improve if you pamper them.**

  **Don’t say stupid things. Kiar shuts down when she’s overwhelmed. **

  **Oh, don’t I get pampered, too? Well, I shall return the favor.** Tiana clenched her fist, wondering if they were going to quarrel again. But he simply said, **She is stronger than she believes herself.**

  **Well, we can agree there. Nobody can ever make her see it, though.**

  **Because you try kindness. Demand action instead.**

  Tiana recalled the fight against the sky fiend in the field, when Kiar had tried to free the creature. She’d failed, blamed herself, and huddled behind a shield while Tiana and Jinriki had dispatched the sky fiend. **It’s not as easy as you think. If you
’d known her as long as I have... you’d see it’s not an easy thing.**

  The trees rustled, and Cinai emerged near Tiana, followed by Jozua. Without the glimmering blessing of the crystal rain, Cinai looked older and less innocent: not a forest child but a young woman. But her eyes were clear and she carried a ragged bundle.

  She paused next to Tiana and said quietly, “He’s always known how to talk to girls, how to get what he wants and make them feel good about themselves at the same time. If our mother hadn’t died...” She shook her head. “Well, the price he pays for being able to talk to women is that he has to listen to them.” Behind her, Jozua snorted with laughter.

  Tiana’s alarm overtook her desire to listen. “That one hasn’t threatened you, has he? Look, what I said before didn’t mean I was on his side. You don’t need to—Why is he with you?”

  Cinai hesitated and then shook her head. “We’ve been talking. I’ve decided to go home again. There’s a lot at stake.” She dropped her eyes, as if expecting to be scolded for this decision, which put Tiana enough off balance that she didn’t.

  Instead, she asked, “Why did you run away? I heard something about a marriage?”

  Her voice low, Cinai said, “Yes. To the son of the Count of Biaxin. It was arranged years ago.”

  Tiana gave her a helpless, unhappy look. She and all her family had the power of choice in their marriages, which only made sense in their situation. But she knew many other young people didn’t. It was a popular theatrical trope. “Don’t you like him?” she asked sympathetically.

  Cinai shrugged, hugging herself. “He’s all right. I don’t want to marry him, though. I don’t want to let him paw me every night until our fathers have their Duke again.”