Second Daughter (The Royals of Dharia, Book Two)

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  They had made it outside the city.

  They ran hard across the meadow: Aniri with Devesh by her side, Seledri slightly behind with Pavan, Janak and Karan bringing up the rear and glancing over their shoulders for pursuit to spill from the city’s gates. The wildflowers were trampled under their boots, while the skyship hovered above the distant village, beckoning them with the promise of escape.

  Only now did Aniri realize the jeopardy of the ship in daring such a rescue—they would have to land, and thus be vulnerable to attack from below. Captain Tarak must have spied their fleeing forms, because already the skyship was lowering to the ground, casting off ropes as she went. Several sailors climbed down the ropes, readying for when they would reach the ground, while others threw out thicker ropes—which Aniri realized were actually ladders. The ship’s landing spot was near the village, which at the moment, seemed miles away from their entourage.

  Aniri’s chest labored under the run, and Seledri nearly stumbled, caught only by Pavan’s hold on her hand. He took the aetheroceiver she still carried. Aniri slowed to a brisk walk, giving her sister a chance to catch her breath.

  “Karan.” Aniri panted between words. “Secure the ship.”

  He nodded and raced ahead.

  “Seledri?” Aniri asked.

  “I’m fine,” her sister said, but she, too, was winded.

  Aniri slowed their pace further. They had gained enough distance from the gate that even the sudden appearance of the Second Son’s guards wouldn’t present an immediate threat. And they could run faster again, if need be.

  “Janak,” Aniri called back.

  He was keeping a close eye behind them. “My lady, I’m concerned about our pace.”

  “Understood.” But Aniri feared pushing her sister any faster. Seledri made an effort, but Aniri could see the toll it was taking. Pavan exchanged a look with her and concern flashed across his face as well.

  He tugged Seledri to a stop and cupped her cheek with one hand. “Let me carry you, my love.”

  “I will only slow you down,” Seledri said between pants.

  “Perhaps,” he said with a smile, then stooped to sweep her into his arms, managing to carry both her and the aetheroceiver. “But it will give you a moment’s rest. Should we have to run again.”

  The caring look Pavan gave her sister was so sweet it made Aniri look away in shame for having thought he was anything other than madly in love with her. Pavan strode forward, carrying her sister at a faster pace than Aniri thought possible, his gaze fixed on the skyship, and determination etched on his face. She and Devesh gave them a dozen feet of privacy then kept pace.

  “How did he know where to find us?” Aniri asked Devesh, keeping her voice low.

  “He’s been looking all over the city for her,” Devesh said. “Once he heard the skyship had departed the palace for a supposed tour, he said he knew you must be heading for the gates.”

  Pavan’s strenuous attempt to get his wife and unborn child to safety was touching Aniri’s heart. And it appeared to have affected Seledri as well, with the way she held Pavan’s cheek as he ran, carrying them to the skyship.

  Aniri nodded her approval. “It’s fortunate that he loves her so thoroughly.”

  “Something that I, for the record, never doubted.”

  Aniri just lifted an eyebrow. “As if you know anything about love.”

  “Perhaps not,” Devesh said stiffly. “But he’s a First Son who took a Dharian wife. Samirians love their traditions, Aniri. Breaking one for love is a Jungali conceit, not a Samirian one.”

  She decided to ignore the dig. “The prince seemed to recognize you at the gate.”

  “We met your father’s shop, actually. He was in a torment about approaching Pavan and sought me out as a go-between.” He paused for a moment. “Your father regrets so much, Aniri.”

  That made her chest hurt. “Do think he’s still alive, Dev?”

  “Yes.” He hastened to add, “Pavan said your father wasn’t in his shop when he arrived.” Devesh gave her a soft look. “If your father was dead, Natesh would have simply left his body there. His secrets would have died with him. The guards must have taken him into custody. Probably because that was the more strategic option.”

  Hope lifted the weight from her chest.

  Devesh glanced back, but the gates were still clear. Janak had fallen several yards behind them, and Aniri prayed it was to keep a closer eye on the gate and not because he was suffering injuries he’d failed to disclose. Ahead of them, Pavan put Seledri down, and they now hurried forward together, hands clasped. Aniri was once again struck by the sweetness of it.

  “It would appear,” Devesh said, watching Seledri and Pavan as well, “that the First Son has finally earned his princess’s love.”

  “You knew?” Aniri wondered how widespread was the knowledge that Seledri had withheld her love.

  He shrugged. “It was obvious to anyone watching.” His gaze fell to studying the meadow grass in front of them, then rose to the skyship. “I suppose it was foolish to think I could earn your forgiveness as well.”

  “It’s not foolish to believe in someone…” …you love. They were Ash’s words. She didn’t want to say that last part, but it rang true for Devesh. He had brought her here, risking himself to help her escape. And he helped close the hole in her heart where she had carried her long-lost father’s memory, the one promise Devesh made from the beginning. If it was foolish to want to make up for one’s mistakes, he was no more a fool than she was.

  “Perhaps you were a little naïve,” she added.

  He grinned, then peeked at her. “From anyone else, I would take that as a terrible insult.”

  They had finally reached the shadow of the skyship. It floated fifty feet off the ground, fins waving gently in the air, tethered by a dozen ropes and sailors holding her. Bewildered Samirian nobles were debarking from the ship, an awkward train of well-dressed ladies and lords negotiating the rope ladder. Aniri and Devesh caught up to Seledri and Pavan at the base of an unused ladder, kept clear for ascending rather than descending. Pavan held it steady, while Seledri rested her hand on his.

  Then Aniri realized: they weren’t just escaping Natesh’s spies and palace guards any longer. They were fleeing Pavan’s capital. And soon, the country.

  Seledri was out of breath, looking deeply into her husband’s eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me about Natesh? And my father? If I had only known…”

  He nodded fervently. “I should have. I was afraid… I feared I might lose the chance to…” He gave her a pained smile. “I was afraid you would leave. Just as you are now.”

  “I don’t want to leave. Not anymore. I want to stay and be your Queen. I want to be Samir’s Queen.”

  Pavan looked away from her intense gaze. “I can’t keep you safe, Seledri.” The words seemed to choke him. “I thought I could, but…” The torment on Pavan’s face was almost too much to look upon. “You have to go with your sister. Natesh’s plans are far worse than I knew, and I cannot have you here, at risk, and have any hope of stopping him. Because if he ever got hold of you, my love… I would be completely at his mercy.”

  Tears were flowing down her sister’s face now, and Aniri’s were close behind. Seledri lifted a hand to Pavan’s face. “My love.” The whisper of her voice barely carried across the wind.

  Pavan’s smile broke through the pain holding his expression hostage. He placed his hand on her belly. “Keep our child safe.”

  Seledri nodded through her tears. Pavan pulled her into his arms, and the passion of their kiss made Aniri duck her head and look away. Devesh was watching them with undisguised jealousy, and it hurt her heart to see it.

  “Dev, come with us.”

  He darted a look to her, caught in the act. Then he frowned. “I’m not exactly fond of torture, Aniri.”

  “You will not be tortured.” Although she wasn’t at all sure what Ash’s reaction would be to Devesh’s return. “However, I can’t exact
ly guarantee you won’t spend time in prison.”

  “I’m not fond of prison, either.”

  “He will be under my protection here,” Pavan said, startling Aniri. Her sister was making her way up the ladder, and Pavan’s face was still blotched with the emotion. He extended a hand to Devesh. “Thank you for keeping watch over Seledri.”

  Devesh took it, but Aniri could tell it made him uncomfortable. “Of course, your majesty.”

  Pavan turned to her. “You’re the only one I would entrust with her, Aniri.”

  “She’ll be safe with us. And you have Dharia’s support, as well as Jungali’s. In whatever you need.”

  He nodded and turned to stride toward Janak, who had kept his distance from the tearful goodbyes while watching the gate.

  Aniri turned to Devesh. “I’m sorry, Dev.”

  He winced like the words caused him physical pain. “That sounds a lot like goodbye.” Then he frowned. “Sorry for what?”

  “Just sorry. For how things turned out.”

  “Not as sorry as I.”

  She smiled and against her better judgment, she reached to hug him. It was meant as a simple hug of friendship, of forgiveness, but his hands found her back and held her tight. She feared she would have to pull away, but he slowly eased his hold.

  When he released her, he slid his hands up to her cheeks, which flamed with embarrassment at the intimate way he was holding her. Before she could force herself to wrench away, he whispered, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Aniri.”

  Then he kissed her, lightly, sweetly. It was over before she could protest or push him away. He let her go and stepped back, a sadness in his dark brown eyes tearing at her heart even as she felt a rebuke stall out on her lips.

  Before she could muster the words, he gave her a small smile and turned away.

  Then she saw them: in the distance, flowing like ants out of a hole, only they were streaming from the gates of the capital.

  Royal Samirian guards.

  “Aniri!” The gruff voice came from above. Karan leaned over the rail at the top of the rope ladder. His face was stern. “We’re leaving, fresh. Are ye comin’ with or no?” He asked it as if the answer wasn’t obvious, but Aniri had no time to think on that.

  She scrambled up the rope ladder like her life depended on it.

  Aniri was only halfway up the ladder when the skyship began to ascend.

  She swayed underneath the ship, the rope ladder swinging with the sudden uplift, and chanced a look below. The swarm of royal guard was closing in on Pavan and Devesh, but several had already stopped short to aim: and not at the errant First Son and the ex-courtesan he had vowed to protect.

  They were shooting at her.

  A series of pops cracked the air. Aniri twitched so hard she nearly lost her grip on the rope. But after that heart-stopping moment, she seemed to still be intact. A quick scan of the billowing sky-blue gas bag above her didn’t show any sudden venting of gas or punctures that would bring the ship right back down again.

  “Fresh!” Karan leaned over the rail at the top of the ladder. “Quit yer gawking. I can’t pull up the rope with ye on it.”

  Aniri scrambled up the rest of the ladder, focusing on her handholds and not the rapidly disappearing ground below. When she reached the top, Karan grabbed hold of her cloak and hoisted her over the railing. He quickly disappeared below deck, which was in chaos from sailors hurrying to pull up dangling lines and get below themselves, not least to avoid the gunfire. A second volley cracked the air, and Aniri ducked. She dared a peek over the rim only to find a thin haze from the already fired weapons drifting up. The guards must have decided the skyship was out of range because more stood ready to fire, yet no shots rang out.

  Devesh was in handcuffs on the ground, with Pavan and Natesh arguing over him.

  Guilt twisted Aniri’s heart. She should have insisted that he come with them. At least then, she could have offered some measure of protection. Pavan was in a fight for the crown, and as the First Son said, the casualties in those kinds of battles were often those closest to it. Like her sister.

  Keeping below the railing, just in case, Aniri crept to the open bulkhead door and followed the last sailor below deck. Her stomach was unsteady with the constant rising of the ship, but she worked her way forward to the bridge. Captain Tarak was in command, issuing orders to turn downwind, blow their ballast, and generally do everything possible to get aloft and away. Clear blue sky stretched before them, empty of clouds or trouble, and Aniri dared to hope they had actually made their escape.

  Karan was bent over his maps and charts. He glanced at her, then went back to studying his papers. “Your raksaka is in the galley,” he said gruffly. “I believe he’s sending a message to the prince. Ye might think of sending one as well.”

  His tone was odd. As if suddenly they were no longer friends. It perplexed her.

  “I will check with Janak presently.” Her voice drew the notice of the rest of the bridge crew, although they tried hard not to show it, pretending to tend to their instruments while peeking at her from the corners of their eyes.

  “Karan.” She waited for him to look up.

  It took several long moments for him to do so. “Aye?”

  “Has something gone wrong?” Her chest started to squeeze. Maybe they had seen something she hadn’t. Or perhaps something was amiss with Seledri, beyond leaving her husband and fleeing her country with her unborn child. “Is my sister all right? Is there something I need to know?”

  Karan heaved a sigh. “No, fresh. Yer sister’s fine. I assigned her a cabin so she could rest.”

  Aniri frowned, waiting for the rest. There must be something more.

  He turned to Captain Tarak. “What’s our altitude, Mr. Tarak?”

  “Closing on two thousand feet, sir.”

  “I’ve plotted our initial course. Can ye take the helm for a moment, while I step out?”

  “Aye, sir.” Tarak came to stand by the maps, to apparently take over the charting of their passage home. He gave Aniri the same odd look the other sailors were trying to hide, like he wasn’t sure if he should look her in the eye or not.

  Aniri frowned and followed Karan out of the bridge.

  They didn’t go far before she stopped him. The thin corridor was crowded with tubing vents above and brass rails at midlevel to anchor the sailors during the rough ride through the air.

  “What is it, Karan?” she asked, looking up into his face. “Is something wrong back home?”

  He gave her an even more odd look, like she was confusing him. “I’m not sure how to say this, fresh.”

  “Just say it,” she said quietly. A shiver climbed up her back.

  “We saw ye down there with…” Karan rubbed the back of his neck with one, large, meaty hand. “…with the Samirian.”

  Aniri blinked. What was he talking about? “Pavan and Devesh helped spirit us from the city. You know this.”

  “I don’t mean that.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I mean when ye kissed the boy, fresh.”

  “I… I didn’t kiss him.” Aniri’s face flushed, because of course she had. At least, she didn’t stop Devesh from kissing her. “I mean, it wasn’t like that—”

  Karan held up his hands. “I’m just sayin’ that we all saw it. Everyone. Sailors and passengers alike. They’re probably wondering, with the wedding postponed and all, what your intentions are.” He peered at her with his dark eyes, normally so filled with humor, but now dead serious. “What are your intentions, fresh?”

  “I intend to return to Jungali,” she said, suddenly angry. “I hope you’ve laid our course straight there.”

  He frowned. “Aye, I have. Are you sure that’s where you want to go?”

  “Karan.” Aniri plead with him to understand, hands upturned, mouth gaped. “I’m returning home to marry Ash.”

  He nodded and stepped back. “Right then.” But he didn’t look convinced. “We’ll be crewing in shif
ts again to get us back right quick.”

  “Good.”

  They stood awkwardly for a moment in the corridor while a sailor edged past them on his way to the bridge. He seemed to shrink inside himself, as if he fervently wished he had taken another route forward.

  When he was out of earshot, Aniri asked stiffly, “What did you learn of Samirian capabilities while on the ground?”

  Karan fell into a no-nonsense tone as well. “They’ve certainly the commerce for it. Ye saw it at least a little when ye were down there. Mahatvak is the capital, and inland, very far from the sea, yet they’re doing a pretty business moving large clockwork and metal goods. Partly because they’re close to the mining—the mountains near the capital are the richest in the land—but partly due to pride. Ye don’t know the Samirians like I do, fresh. They’ve got a bit of head about them when it comes to the trades.”

  “Perhaps that’s warranted,” Aniri said. “They certainly seem to have wonders that Dharia hasn’t adopted yet. Or that I was even aware of.”

  “Aye,” Karan said. “Don’t think there isn’t a purpose to that as well. Samir and the tinker’s Guild are keen to keep their edge.”

  “So they have the resources to make more skyships?”

  Karan gestured around them. “Much of what ye see on the ship is simply parts adapted from the navy. It wouldn’t be hard to divert some from the naval yards to a secret location for building a skyship of their own.” He squinted at her. “Aye, did you say ships? As in they might be building more than just the one?’

  She drew in a breath and blew it out. “Can you keep a secret, Karan?”