We wove between us the magic known by every lover—that powerful spell of passion. We slept side by side beneath soft blankets. We dreamed, accompanied by the music of our breath and heartbeats.
Peregrine and gyrfalcon wings, hair like sunlight tangled with strands the deep tone of a cobra’s scales, skin like alabaster next to skin the color of honey, coated with a sheen of sweat. This was bliss.
The morning came too soon.
I dressed and then pulled open a drawer in the bedside table. Silently, I removed a small bundle, which Nicias had brought back from Ahnmik at the behest of my mother, and which had remained here in his home. I had not wanted it.
I still did not want it. Nevertheless, I unwrapped the hand-carved box in which my mother had kept all her mementos of my father. With shaking hands, I retrieved my father’s signet ring. I stared at it for a long time before slipping it on.
“Please trust me,” I whispered again to Nicias when it came time for us to part. Don’t hate me, I silently begged his still-sleeping form, for what I am about to do.
I looked back from the doorway, my heart pounding.
Nicias looked so peaceful, lying there. Innocent. What I was about to do to him …
Suddenly he wasn’t peaceful but once again screaming, fighting.
“How can you do this to me?” he shrieked at the falcon who was holding Zenle Cobriana. “All your high ideals, all your dreams—you are no better than your Empress!”
Darien looked away sadly as she cradled the cobra child.
All she said was “This cannot be allowed to happen again.”
I shuddered. Nicias would probably never forgive me for what I was about to do, but I would never forgive myself if I didn’t do it.
I saddled Najat and pounded into the woods with the word traitor echoing in my head.
At the edges of Obsidian land, I saw once again the child I had hoped I could banish.
Keyi twirled among the trees, chasing fireflies in the night air, while her father watched her fondly with pale green eyes.
Vere Obsidian loved his daughter more than life itself, and that showed on every inch of his face.
The white viper greeted me when I reached the camp, though he appeared distracted. “Hai, what brings you here so early in the day?”
Reasoning with Vere might get him to change his plans, but even if he backed out of his engagement to the wyvern princess, it did not mean she would change her mind.
“I came to offer my congratulations,” I said instead. “I hear you are going to be king.”
He looked away from me, toward the camp. “Apparently,” he said.
“That’s a bold move, for a man from a tribe that has sworn neither to lead nor to follow.”
He nodded. “It is more than I would want, but Oliza’s offer was …” He sighed. “This whole situation is appalling.”
“Then why did you agree to it?”
“Oliza offered a pardon for all my people, without the conditions her ancestors often tried to impose. They do not need to return to serpiente land or accept the Diente as king. She swore that the royal house would acknowledge the autonomy of the Nesera’rsh, as Maeve’s coven once did, and that the Obsidian guild would be allowed to live as it wished, provided we break no serpiente laws.”
“Do you love her?” I asked. As a rule, serpiente didn’t believe in political marriage.
Vere shrugged. “I love my people.”
“What of Betia?”
He winced. “I don’t think I will ever be able to clear from my mind the expression on that woman’s face when Nicias landed in front of Oliza. She knew what it meant before he said a word.”
I’d learned enough. Now I had other visits to make.
“I will see you this evening, then.”
“This evening.”
My next visit was to the marketplace. It was still early, but I found Salokin speaking to Arqueete as she set out her wares for the day. They did not seem surprised to see me, and the way Arqueete dropped everything to give me her undivided attention the moment I approached told me where their loyalties lay.
The two serpents followed me, without question, to a less crowded area of the market.
“Salokin, you implied once that you might support me if I chose to assert my right as Anjay Cobriana’s only child,” I said, too softly for my voice to carry beyond these two. “If that is true, I need your vow on it.”
His eyes widened as if I had asked him to sign his name in blood. To a falcon, a spoken vow was much the same thing, though I did not think he knew that.
“I was loyal to your father,” he answered firmly. “You are his child, his only heir. If you choose to step forward as Arami, then I swear I will be loyal to you.”
Arqueete had put a hand on Salokin’s arm to steady herself. She declared, “I served as a soldier beneath your father, before his death. I followed him to the Keep on the day he—” Her voice broke, but her fiery gaze remained on mine as she said, “I would have died in his place if I could have, and I would do the same for his heir. I swear it.”
“I understand there are others?”
“Many others,” Salokin answered immediately.
“When Oliza returns to Wyvern’s Court to take the throne, I expect every serpent loyal to me to be in the crowd, at the front. Arqueete, if there are other trained soldiers in the group, I would appreciate their assistance. They are not to touch the princess. Make that very clear. They are simply to be there, in case I need them.”
“Yes, milady.”
I started to turn, then hesitated, looking back. “And, whoever is responsible for this … turn of events,” I added, keeping all judgment clear from my voice, “I want them present. They should receive some recognition.”
Salokin and Arqueete both nodded, deeply enough that they almost bowed. I did not know yet if they had started the rumors that had brought about Salem’s demise, or just repeated them. Either way, I needed Salokin and Arqueete for a few hours more. It would be best to let them think I meant to reward them, until I was ready to act.
I returned then to the candle shop on the northern hills, where I found Opal, Gren, Maya and Spark in heated conversation. The instant I stepped into the room, the four falcons began to proclaim their innocence.
“Hush,” I snapped. “Not one of you is stupid enough to have planned this against my will. I am not the Mercy, who would arrest you all for wanting it to be done even when you had no hand in it.”
They all calmed, but I could see the wariness on their faces.
“You have all spoken of me as queen of this land, many times. Do you still wish it?”
Maya was the first to react. She knelt beside me, and I felt a chill go down my spine. I had seen others grovel this way before the Empress, but I was no royal falcon—only a mongrel, desperate to pretend.
“Take the throne, and I will follow you,” she swore.
One last visit.
Back in the cool shadows of the woods, I closed my eyes and reached for my mother.
Darien?
Yes?
There were many discussions we could have had in that moment. I sighed, Take care of Nicias for me. I suspect he will come to you soon.
Hai, what are you doing? Darien demanded.
Fulfilling all your expectations, I answered bitterly. I meant to leave it at that but couldn’t stop myself from asking How could you do this to me, to the world you claim to want to protect? How could you be so blind, to convince Nicias all is well and allow this horror?
I’ve told you. My sakkri are—
What of my Empress? I asked. Surely she can see far more than a mongrel can. She must know what will happen if Oliza takes the throne.
I felt my mother shake her head on the distant Ahnmik as she stared out her window and over the white city. Cjarsa has more power than you and I combined, but the void frightens her. She fears drowning in its illusions, so she holds back.
The idea that Cjarsa might have such
a powerful weakness was deeply unsettling. If that’s the case, then you’re both blind here. Oliza listens to Nicias’s counsel, and Nicias would listen to you. You could stop this with a few words to him, if you would just trust me.
I can’t. Hai … I felt her struggle to choose wording that would be kind. She settled on You are a falcon despite your father’s blood, and I have no way of knowing where your loyalties lie, but I know that they are not with me.
Sometimes I myself wasn’t sure.
Nicias’s eyes opened as I returned to his room, my arms laden with a package of freshly baked pastries that Arqueete had given to me on my way back there.
“Good morning,” Nicias said.
“Morning.” I went to his side, my eyes feasting on the lines of his face—golden lashes, high cheekbones, soft lips, fair skin. “You looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you.”
He smiled, but I knew that he was wary. He had every right to be.
I kissed him, for perhaps the last time.
“I brought breakfast,” I said. “We’ll need it. I imagine it is going to be a very long day.”
Oliza wore plum-violet—the serpiente color of mourning—to her coronation. Officially the color was in honor of her cousin, but Oliza had so much more than that to mourn, and everyone in the audience knew it.
Vere Obsidian was in such a deep shade of blue that it was almost black. I wondered how Oliza felt about her would-be mate’s making an effort to avoid the Cobriana royal color, even though the difference in tone was discreet. His white-blond hair had been braided in back but was in no way hidden.
Both Vere and Oliza appeared grave as he helped her onto the dais.
Even once Oliza looked out over the crowd, the marketplace took a long time to hush, as serpiente continued to express their emotions, which ranged from relief at Oliza’s return to fury. Even serpents who supported Oliza in general were disturbed by this turn of events.
Nicias, at the foot of the dais, swept the crowd with cool eyes. Only those who knew him well might have recognized how nervous he was.
He was not the only one. Oliza’s parents appeared drawn and worn; for twenty years they had dreamed of the day their daughter would take the throne, but this was not the way any parent would have wished that dream to come true.
Sive stood at the far edge of the crowd, shunned by almost everyone but her avian guards; only a lone serpent had elected to stay by her side. Though she held herself straight, her eyes were swollen from crying.
Rosalind was not present. In fact, most of the dancers from the nest were missing. They had attended the coronation of one of their own, but they had chosen to stay by that fallen king’s side rather than watch this farce. Their absence pleased me, as it meant my loyalists made up more of the crowd.
How many? I wondered.
There was only one way to find out.
I stepped forward.
Serpents stepped aside, some of them with confusion on their faces, but many with respectful nods, as I moved through the crowd. I kept my face neutral as I approached the bottom of the dais.
“Oliza Shardae Cobriana.”
Oliza jumped as I called to her. Nicias, who was nearly next to me now, frowned and said my name. “Hai—”
I boosted myself smoothly onto the dais. “Oliza, a word with you.”
“Hai, now is hardly the time,” the wyvern replied.
“Now is the only time.”
“Hai, what do you think you are doing?” Nicias asked.
I spoke clearly so my voice would be heard by the entire crowd.
“My father was the eldest of his generation, older brother to both Zane and Irene Cobriana. I recognized you as Arami, Oliza, because you held that place before my return, but then you gave up that title of your own free will. I recognized Salem because our people respected and followed him, and I wish he could still hold the throne—though from what I can tell of his injuries, he will not recover.” The words hung in the air. I knew that every eye and every ear was focused on us at this moment. “I hope, milady wyvern, that you will gracefully step aside, and not attempt to force your way into a position you willingly abandoned.”
“This is absurd,” Zane said, objecting.
A pair of my followers, both of whom appeared to be soldiers, stepped between the cobra and the stage. “Let her speak,” one of them said.
Oliza’s voice was frosty when she said, “I stepped down because I knew I could not hold both thrones if I wanted to avoid another war. I never abandoned my people when they needed me, and I will not do so now.”
“They do not need you now, either.” More softly, praying Oliza would hear the truth in my words, I added, “And we both know what you really feared would happen if you took the throne.”
Why was I the only one who could see Anhamirak’s fire destroying us all? Why was I the only one who could hear the screams as the falcons slaughtered the survivors, leaving only children that the royal house could raise as it wished?
“Hai, this is madness,” Oliza said.
Arqueete had come to the front and now pointed out, “It is not mad if it’s true. She is rightfully Arami.”
“Oliza is the rightful Arami,” someone else shouted.
By now Nicias had climbed onto the stage. He stepped between Oliza and me, the pain of betryal in his eyes. “No.” The word was accompanied by angry magic that shuddered through me like the rumble of thunder. “Hai, I will not allow you to—”
I pulled back with a hiss. “Nicias Silvermead, if I am a cobra, then I am not a subject of the royal house of Ahnmik. You have told me this many times. That means you are not my prince.” I wanted to recall the words the instant I shouted them, wanted to say It’s not true! Please, I meant nothing by it! Instead, I continued. “Or is this the wish of that house? You say you turned down the falcon throne to stand behind Oliza, Nicias of Ahnmik. Are you here as a guard or a puppeteer?” Nicias was royal falcon born, but I had been Mercy raised. He did not have the experience to turn these allusions around as I spoke quickly, sowing distrust among all the serpiente around us.
“You know that isn’t true. I am loyal—”
“Loyal to Oliza?” I asked, with obvious cynicism. “How can you claim to be loyal to the wyvern princess and then ask her to betray the sacred vows she swore to her true mate? How can you say you are loyal to Wyvern’s Court and then participate in this sham ceremony in an attempt to—”
“An attempt to protect the throne from—”
“What? Its rightful heir?” I challenged him. “I am not a usurper, Nicias. I am Anjay Cobriana’s daughter, and I will not abandon the responsibility of his legacy.”
“Nicias, step aside.”
Oliza’s soft voice sent Nicias away, and I was left looking at the wyvern.
“Oliza, please, do not force this confrontation further,” I implored. The crowd around us was beginning to get ugly. My followers were holding back Oliza’s family and friends, including Zane Cobriana, but I knew that my loyalists would feel the need to protect me once her father reached the dais. “Neither of us wants blood to be spilled here today.”
“I will not allow a falcon to usurp the serpiente throne.”
I then let myself do something I had never done: I recoiled and shifted into my serpent half form. I had always thought of my cobra fangs and scales as dirty, but when I looked upon Oliza with garnet eyes and hissed, the action felt as natural as a falcon’s cry once had.
“Falcon?” I asked. “I have as much cobra blood as you do, wyvern. My father would have been Diente had he not been slain by your mother’s brother. Is your millennia-old prejudice against my mother’s blood enough to deny me my rightful place?”
“You have no rightful place here.” Oliza was losing her temper and her poise as I twisted around her arguments.
I spun away from her as one of the serpents broke free from the crowd and leapt onto the dais. Sensing the blade and who it was intended for before anyone else noticed it
, I pushed Oliza aside.
The blow, which had been meant for the wyvern, struck me in the side, piercing one of my lungs.
“Stop!”
My subjects pulled back as I shouted at them. I grabbed the wrist of the serpent who had just tried to end this debate with the death of my opponent, and dragged him forward.
“Oliza is my kin,” I said, struggling for breath. “And she is my heir. I will not allow you, or any other, to harm her.”
Two more serpents scrambled onto the dais. Before I could figure out if they were on my side or Oliza’s, Nicias reacted for me. His magic lashed the would-be assassin, the other two serpents on the dais and several others who had been trying to reach us. They all fell back, hissing in pain and anger, and I suppressed a sad smile. In Nicias’s attempt to defend his queen, he had cemented her connection to the royal falcon house in the minds of many serpents.
I collapsed to my knees and pulled the knife from my side. Coughing blood, I let my magic fill the wound. Falcons were harder to kill than serpents.
Kneeling, my hands bloody from a wound that had been intended for Oliza, I looked up at the wyvern. I knew the arguments she could make, but either she could not find the words, or she chose not to.
Instead, Oliza took one step back, then another.
“I will not let my pride drag us into a civil war here,” she said, struggling to control her anger. “You are the only child of my father’s eldest brother, and even though you have never claimed that parentage before, the Cobriana blood still shows true.” She looked away as her voice wavered. “I gave my people up once to protect them. I will not let you create the strife I was trying to avoid. As long as my—our—people will support you, I will not challenge your claim to the serpiente throne.”
She shifted before us all, something Oliza never willingly did. Her wyvern form soared into the skies, every movement betraying her fury and pain.
The crowd beyond the dais watched with a mixture of shock, understanding and—in the case of my followers—arrogance as Oliza left. Some retreated slowly, horrified, but most remained, turning their gazes to me with wide eyes.
The Shapeshifters: The Kiesha'ra of the Den of Shadows Page 69
