Green Wild (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 2)

by Chrysoula Tzavelas

  The little bird rode on Minex’s finger. The earth fiend fed it from flowers she picked as they wandered along. She acted like they were out for a summer stroll: skipping, playing little games with the bird and running ahead to sing naughty songs about knights. Judging from the column’s pace, they were definitely strolling.

  Tiana took them off the road. They travelled overland to Sunasin to avoid the attention of more troops like Sir Rufus and his men. The knight accompanied them, but Tiana didn’t trust them and Kiar didn’t blame her. While the knight seemed to have adapted to the situation, there were tensions between his men and the Royal Guards.

  Kiar tried not to worry about it. Cathay and Slater were worrying about it. They knew a lot more than she did about morale and soothing the tensions of men with swords. Although possibly she could find a book to fill in the gaps in her knowledge. Maybe Twist could bring some—but thinking about Twist was just a way to waste time. Especially when he wasn’t even there. When he was there, at least she could look at him while she wasted time.

  They had camped late the night before, after a long detour around a spur of the darkling army moving amorphously across the landscape. Despite their strange movement patterns, they were an organized force. Companies like Sir Rufus’s harried the edges of the mass of invaders, attacking and falling back again.

  Meanwhile the darkling army itself moved slowly but single-mindedly, in pursuit of a goal the others spent hours debating. Nobody knew what the army wanted. They didn’t loot the emptied villages they passed through; they didn’t seem to need to resupply. They marched in small, widely-spaced groups. They rested during the day, but were well able to fight back against harassment. They never pursued the Counties soldiers, never did anything but defend themselves and continue their march. It was like the human defenders were no more than ants at the darkling picnic.

  “I don’t care what they are, soldiers have to eat,” said Rufus, talking to Slater as they strode past at the lunch break. They had just crossed into the edge of Sunasin land, and hoped to get there by late evening. “We’ve been trying to find the source of their supplies. If we can cut them off, we might stand a chance when they finally turn and fight. And they’ll have to fight back, once the rest of the armies arrive. I’m rather looking forward to it.”

  Kiar understood; it was always reassuring when things happened the way they were supposed to, even if the way they were supposed to happen was awful.

  She stopped by Cinai’s side. Fai’s travois worked better than any wagon as they moved across the fields, but there was no good way to carry somebody as injured as Fai across many miles. “How is he today?”

  Cinai huddled under a cloak, nibbling on a chunk of cheese. “No change yet.”She glanced up at Kiar. “But every step we take away from Fel Dion, I worry. I’m afraid again. Staying like this forever isn’t any better than being dead, is it?”

  Kiar put her hand on Cinai’s shoulder awkwardly. “You can’t get better from dead. I’m working on learning out how to heal him. This won’t be forever.”

  Cinai looked down again. “It can’t be.”

  Kiar rubbed her eyes with one hand. Other students spent a decade studying the vast, deep sea of the human body. She was trying to do it in a week, on the road, with no teacher but the bodies around her. If she had her way, they’d wait at Sunasin Castle until a specialist could be summoned, however long that took. But that wasn’t her decision and she appreciated being able to hand that responsibility over to somebody else. Even if that somebody else was Tiana.

  Instead she sat down and focused her Logos sight on Fai. Work was always better than thinking, these days. The tendrils of power snaking through his system, along with the injuries, made him a poor subject to study, but she had to cross-reference what she’d learned and make sure it aligned with his biology. Today, she studied metabolisms, or how solid stores became active energy.

  Time passed. Kiar woke from her trance when Lisette bumped her shoulder with her knee.

  “Hello, Lisette,” said Cinai. She’d acquired a cup of tea, and Kiar realized it had gotten colder. A cloak dropped on her head from above.

  “Is it time to go?” She put on the cloak. Her skin was cool to her own touch but the chill didn’t bother her yet.

  Lisette said, “Tiana’s still discussing strategy with Twist and Slater and the others. But soon.”

  Strategy, Lisette said, and Kiar thought of the tensions between the soldiers first. Then she saw Lisette’s expression, and ducked her head. Lisette so rarely showed annoyance that seeing her sour face was like being bitten by a pet rabbit.

  If you want me to use your flesh as fuel to heal Fai, go ahead, tell Tiana about this plan. Make me do it. But I’m not going to use you that way willingly, Lisette. She didn’t say the words.

  Something scratched at the aegis around her thoughts, all the same. Her heart jumped. Stay out, she thought as loudly as she could. To Jinriki, unvocalized words still made a sound. Then—”Twist’s back?” She scrambled to her feet.

  If anything, Lisette’s sour expression intensified. “Are you going to ask him—?” and she glanced at Cinai.

  “Of course not,” Kiar said, already hurrying away. “Who knows what it would do to him?” She dodged between horses and men until she came to Tiana’s blanket under spreading tree branches. Five cloaked men clustered around the Princess. Twist had his back to Kiar, but she recognized him anyhow: his height, his stance, his everything.

  They were discussing the invader’s army and the disposition of the armies in the west. She slowed to a halt, shy of interrupting for no good reason.

  But then Twist said, “I’m no use with the soldiers, so I’ll just go—” and he turned away and met Kiar’s eyes. His voice, sharp with irritation faded, and she blushed. Day broke across his exhausted face. “There you are. I’d barely begun my search, too.” The shock of her yearning washed over her: she wanted to wrap her arms around him, run her fingers through his hair, touch his face—Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She’d been mad to run over here. She couldn’t behave around him; she embarrassed herself and it always made everything worse.

  “Are you talking to me?” she said. It was inane, but anything was better than gaping at him like an idiot.

  A cloud passed over his face. “Yes. I was hoping we could continue...?”

  Like a shower of sparks, thoughts burst and faded. Once again yearning overwhelmed her. She wanted to look at him—touch him—find out where he’d been—run. “No need. I’m sure other people are waiting on you.”

  His mouth curved in something other than a smile. With brittle cheer, he said, “Nope. I’ve been given two days to rest before I have to report back to Lor Seleni to start teaching.” He spread his hands as he looked at her, almost as if he were pleading for something.

  But acid burned down her throat. “Good. It’s about time.” That didn’t seem to be enough. His hands were still spread. “I’m sure this time you’ll get a good student.” His open hands closed, and recklessly, drunk on a cocktail of emotions, she added, “Goodbye now.” The sun vanished entirely from his face and the bleak expression she’d earned when she skipped his lessons returned. She turned away, fighting to keep the idiotic burning in her eyes from becoming tears.

  “I’m so lucky,” he said, and the chill in his voice froze her in place. “Most people are too kind to the objects of their infatuation, but I have you. You prefer cruelty.”

  Her mind shut down. She took a step away, one step with feet like lead, that was all, and then he stood in front of her, blocking her escape. She kept her eyes down as he said, “I’ve tried to be patient, I’ve tried to wait this out. I wanted to be your friend again. Look at me, Kiar.” One of his hands held her shoulder, while his other threaded through her hair to the back of her neck.

  She wanted to avoid meeting his gaze, but despite her intentions, she looked at him. Lines feathered from the corner of his eyes, lines that hadn’t been there six months ag
o. His brows swooped together in an anger she rarely saw, but his mouth was white with stress or pain. He was so very close: strange and familiar at the same time. She put her hand on his chest to push him away, and didn’t.

  His eyes scanned her face. Sounding almost puzzled, he said, “Maybe there’s another way.” Stepping even closer, he lowered his head.

  Lightly, he brushed his lips over hers, a butterfly touch that knocked down all the walls she’d built. When he nibbled delicately at her lower lip, she whimpered deep in her throat and slid her arms around his neck, driven by the pure fire pumping through her veins. She pressed herself against his lean body. When his tongue flickered against hers, she responded in kind eagerly. The fingers at the back of her neck moved lightly against her skin while his grip on her shoulder remained firm and in control.

  She slid one hand into his hair, unable to get enough of him. He smelled like earth and spiced wine and sweat, and kissing him was beyond anything she’d dreamt of.

  He made a noise against her mouth. Did he think they were done? She nipped him, unwilling to let him go. His hand on her shoulder tightened. Then both arms moved down her body as sudden hunger replaced what had previously been gentle instruction. He lifted her feet off the ground as he took everything she offered and demanded more.

  There was only him.

  Then, beyond the rushing in Kiar’s ears, Tiana sighed and said, “Finally.”

  Self-awareness flooded back. She stiffened and her feet touched the ground. Head whirling, she disentangled herself and stepped backwards, almost losing her feet. Only Twist’s lingering hold prevented her from making an even bigger fool of herself.

  His previous words came back to her with a rush of shame. Everybody was staring. Everybody knew. “I’m such an idiot,” she said.

  Twist stared at her, his wide blue eyes making him look very young. “Kiar—” He took a deep breath.

  She clenched her fists. “No. No, don’t. You’ve made your point. I’ll try to stop being so stupid.”

  Everybody was still staring. Kiar couldn’t bear it. Tiana blinked at her like a fish. She was going to say something else, Kiar just knew it, and then Kiar would die on the spot. She flailed for something, anything, to make them stop staring, replaying her idiocy over and over again.

  “Tiana, hey, we figured out a way to heal Fai. Want to see?” She looked around, found Lisette watching her with far-too-expressive eyes. “Come on!” She took Lisette’s arm above the elbow and half-dragged her to where Fai rested. Lisette said something, but Kiar couldn’t listen.

  She planted herself in front of Fai and Cinai. Cinai, at least, had no idea what had just happened; the horses had been in the way. But she could feel Twist staring at her. How long had he known? Longer than she had, she was sure. And look how patiently he’d endured her idiocy. And Tiana and Lisette, they’d known too. She glanced at Lisette and just knew they’d giggled over her infatuation, her bumbling attempts to explain herself.

  She hardened her heart and looked at Fai. She couldn’t be good at people like Lisette and Twist and Tiana, but she could be good at this. She stopped pretending that she couldn’t direct the lux Lisette made available. The library of observations she’d been so cautious about tapping sprang to the forefront of her mind. “No reason to wait any longer, is there?” Without waiting for an answer, she slid her hand down Lisette’s arm until she touched the light.

  It tingled, like cold water lapping at her toes, but the wave of energy that crashed over her last time did not come. Lisette’s face was white, her breath rapid.

  “Please,” Kiar said desperately. “You’re right. We can do this. Please.”

  Lisette’s gentle sigh was a bellows across the fires of Kiar’s shame. “You all keep saying please,” she murmured. The rudimentary gate Lisette had constructed opened.

  The lux brought with it chaos, kicking the top off the anthill of Kiar’s thoughts. But the underlying nature of an anthill is order and so it was with Kiar’s mind. The little observations and theories formed a greater understanding, and the lux did not burn her. She stretched out a hand to Fai and began to speak, blind to everything but the foundational structure of the universe.

  A small fraction of Lisette’s essence unraveled as the lux poured through her. It was a side effect, created by a flawed binding. Kiar couldn’t fix it, so she worked quickly instead.

  Within Fai, a green orb nestled around his heart, and green light pumped through his veins, and green shadows flickered in his brain. The green light was a rarefied energy, lux and logos in one, as beyond her ability to manipulate as the phantasmagory would be for one not of the Blood. Underneath it, though, was shattered flesh and bone.

  Medical Logos-working usually had to work with what was there: temporarily accelerating tissue regeneration, gently matching fragmented bones and so on. It was the work of many years to learn what could be safely done and what would only hasten the patient’s death. Only the most legendary of healers had enough control, speed and precision to replace destroyed organs—and a living patient in that situation was rare enough that there wasn’t often an opportunity to practice.

  Kiar had learned just enough about the human body’s operation during her crash study to know she didn’t ever want to touch it in an ordinary situation. But with the lux—the lux was the stuff of wishes. It shaped itself almost faster than she could tell it what she wanted it to be, and Fai’s body yearned to meld with it. It was almost too easy. She wondered if it would be as easy to make improvements as well as repairs. Had Fai, perhaps, always wanted to fly?

  Then the process stuttered as her words tripped over the eidolon shadows buried deep in the boy’s body. She remembered the same shadows within Iriss’s far less injured body. The lux weakened them but could not banish the stubborn infection.

  The lux and the Logos allowed no time to hesitate. She reached out with that same strange psychic appendage that she used to manipulate the eidolon world. The eidolon infection yearned towards her like Fai’s body yearned toward the lux, and so she let herself be a conduit for the shadows, swallowing them into her own eidolon source.

  Now with Fai’s body clean, there was nothing to impede healing. She made sure he was stable and released Lisette, pushing her away.

  “He’s not fully healed, but he will heal, if he doesn’t do anything stupid,” she said, her voice husky.

  She watched in tired fascination as the green light withdrew hundreds of tendrils from Fai’s body, barely aware of Cinai’s astonished gratitude, and the murmurs around her. Did Tiana see what she saw.

  The green orb detached itself from Fai with a final pulse, and the young man drew in a deep breath. Cinai fell silent as the orb drifted above Fai’s body, within reach of her outstretched fingertips. Trembling, she kissed her fingers and reached out. A single green spark flew from her fingertips and merged with the orb. Then, without a sound, the orb sped over to Tiana and vanished.

  A broad tree sketched of green light formed around Tiana. Branches spread around her like the antlers of a stag, and the face of a woman formed on the trunk. The tree grew and grew until it collapsed on itself, upon Tiana at its heart, until there was no tree, only Tiana, rimmed with green light. Her boots fell to pieces and her toes rooted themselves in the soil.

  Then, the light vanished, and Tiana collapsed.

  Chapter 29

  Choosing

  “IS IT TRUE the King has fallen?” asked a well-dressed, middle-aged woman in the Tabernacle of Broken Hearts. It was the morning after her meeting with the Justiciars, the morning after Jerya ordered Twist to betray himself to the Vassay. “Is that why you sit here, day after day?”

  Jerya tilted her head. “I don’t know. I hope he hasn’t.” The lie came easily. Some days it was more work to remember the truth. But she hated being asked.

  The woman pinched her lips together, dissatisfied with the answer. “What of your magic? Doesn’t your family speak to each other magically?”

  Jerya
kept her face mild as she regarded the woman. Well-dressed and well-educated; most of her visitors didn’t know very much about the family magic. It existed. That was usually enough. “We do. He does not communicate that way.”

  The woman’s mouth twisted sourly. “And yet you think he lives. Thank you, Your Highness.” Her voice was patronizing, dismissive, and she turned and walked away without first showing proper respect. The few remaining audience-seekers stirred and murmured.

  Jerya watched her go, all the way to the edge of the plaza where a Justiciar’s Guard waited for her. One handed her something, and they parted ways.

  Sweeping her gaze across the few people still hoping to speak with her, Jerya stood. The woman was the third person that morning to ask about both her father and the phantasmagory. The Justiciar’s Council exerted itself and rumors grew: about her father, their magic, and the enemy armies. Somehow everybody knew about the armies outside the Blight but nobody knew about Jerya’s discovery of their origin and what she was doing about it.

  “We live in frightening days,” she announced to the lingering observers. “We must remember that the architect of our fear comes at us from without, but the dwelling of those fears is our own hearts and minds. We will protect you, but in the meantime, trust in each other.” Then she withdrew, hoping the pretty words could accomplish what facts and reason didn’t.

  Trust in each other. She thought of Cara, who trusted Jerya and betrayed her on the same day. Cara, who had informed the Justiciars that the phantasmagory was gone. Cara, who had such a twisted sense of her own duty that she didn’t believe she’d done anything wrong in telling Jerya’s secrets, because Jerya wasn’t Shanasee. In the inn parlour after the meeting, Cara said, “You’re a child,” and “It’s better to let wiser heads know the truth so they can make good decisions. Decisions that keep everybody safe.” Yet Cara had trusted Jerya enough, even after betraying her, to turn her back and rejoin Shanasee.