Shadow & Flame

by Mindee Arnett

  Kate glanced over her shoulder at his approach, and her spine went rigid. Corwin sucked in a breath, hating the reaction and wishing there was some way to undo it. If anything, he was sure to make it worse before he was through here.

  “Do you have a moment to talk?” he asked, coming to stand next to her. It was a silly question, strangely formal. He tried to remember how their conversations used to go but couldn’t. They never seemed to start or end, but were just one long moment around short pauses. Gods, how he missed it. Missed her.

  “Yes . . . I mean, I’ve nothing else to do at the moment.”

  Corwin frowned at the hitch in her voice, but quickly banished the concern. At least she hadn’t used his title for once, thank the goddess. “Tomorrow, I’d like you with me when I speak to the Rimish lords.” The messenger had found them late yesterday, bringing word that Corwin had been granted an audience with Rin’s ruler, Lord Felton, along with the other Rimish leaders in the city. The message had been terse and less than welcoming, but all Corwin needed was for the door to be unlocked. He would find a way to push it open and get through.

  “If you think it’s wise,” Kate replied, “then yes, I’ll be there.”

  “I do.” He smiled and raked a hand through his hair. “Yaron tells me that the rest of Rime called you the Wilder Queen as well, not just the Rising. Having you there will show the lords that I have the wilders’ support, and it will make it clear that in all things I stand with the wilders first.”

  A small smile crossed her lips. “It gives me hope to hear you say that.”

  “Me too.” Corwin returned the smile, but all too quickly it slid from his face. “But there’s more to it than that, I’m afraid.” He drew a breath. “It’s possible I might need to convince them of my loyalty to Rime.”

  Kate’s brows drew together. “How could they doubt? Word has surely spread about your escape and the attack on the Hellgate.”

  “Perhaps.” He hesitated. “But it is certain that they’ve heard of my marriage to Eravis Fane.”

  At the sound of the Sevan princess’s name, Kate dropped her chin to her chest and turned one shoulder to him. “You heard what Valora said. The marriage was invalid according to Rimish law.”

  Corwin drew a breath and let it out carefully. “Unfortunately, the legitimacy of it matters less than the perception. If they are to follow me, I need them to trust me completely. Once the fighting starts, there can’t be divisions among us. They must know the truth.”

  “What does any of that have to do with me?” She stared at him intently, as tense as a bowstring close to snapping.

  He braced, dreading her response. “I was thinking . . . that you might demonstrate for them the nature of Gavril’s power.”

  Shock spread like storm clouds over Kate’s face. “What?”

  He reached out and touched her arm, that one small act requiring more bravery than he’d ever needed before, it seemed. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you, and I hope I’m wrong about the need for it, but if I’m not, it might be the only way to convince them that my coming isn’t a trap set by the Godking. That I was forced into saying those vows with Eravis. Everything I did was forced.”

  She stepped back out of his reach and narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you sure that’s true?”

  Corwin paled at her words, and the memory of her in his mind rushed into him, the things she’d seen and felt. “That’s not fair, Kate. You weren’t with me in Seva. You can’t know how it was.”

  “Can’t I?” She arched an eyebrow. “I saw it, Corwin. I saw how she made you feel. I felt it.”

  Anger surged into him, and he clenched his hands into fists. “I asked you not to do that. Those memories were private. They should’ve been left to me.”

  For a second, fury blazed across her face, then all at once it vanished, and she seemed to sag in defeat. “I know, and I’m sorry. I wish I’d never done it.” She turned away from him, gaze raised toward the city once more. “I wish I weren’t a monster.”

  “Monster?” His anger fled him, and he reached for her, gently placing one hand on her shoulder. She tensed at his touch, but didn’t pull away. “That’s . . . you’re not.”

  “Signe thinks I am.”

  “Well, she’s wrong.” Corwin squeezed, wishing she would turn around. “Gavril was a monster. Rendborne is a monster. Not you.”

  She swung back to face him. “Aren’t I? Isn’t that what you would ask me to do tomorrow? Show the Rimish lords that my power is equally as monstrous as Gavril’s?”

  He flinched, seeing her point all too well. He had, in fact, done exactly that. And in truth, there was a monstrous part of her, the way she’d killed with just her mind. The way she’d wielded that power with impunity.

  But so had he. He might not have used magic, but he’d killed men, more than he could count in his time with the Shieldhawks. He’d stabbed Gavril in the back, without hesitation. And in the past he’d surely given orders and made decisions that affected the lives of people he’d never even met face-to-face. Could he claim that every decision made and order given was benevolent? No. But what he could say was that his intentions had always been in the right place.

  Meeting Kate’s gaze head-on, Corwin stared into her eyes, unblinkingly, so she could know his sincerity. “You might have his power, but you’ve never used it for evil like he did. Even when you’ve killed with it, it was always in the name of what is good and right. Saving your friends, saving your country. But even so, someone who is a monster doesn’t struggle with the choice to kill, or to steal someone’s will. They revel in it.”

  He could tell she wasn’t convinced, and for a moment he considered removing the vial from around his neck and letting her in to experience what he felt. But, no, he couldn’t do that. His memories had already hurt her too much.

  After a moment, Kate exhaled and glanced away from him. “Very well. If it comes to it, I will make the demonstration for you.”

  Doubt fluttered in his chest, whether or not he was right in asking her to do this. But with an effort he pushed it away. In this dire situation they faced, there was no room left for doubt. “Thank you, and let’s hope it doesn’t come to it.”

  Kate nodded. Corwin still sensed the pain in her rigid stance. The knowledge of it squeezed his heart like a fist, and he started to retreat.

  Something stopped him halfway, the truth inside him demanding to be heard. He faced her again, aware of the distance between them, both physical and not. He’d been wrong earlier—this was surely the bravest thing he’d ever had to do.

  “I never stopped loving you, Kate,” he said. “Not then and not now.” He paused, summoning his strength, wary of deepening her wounds. “What you saw in my memories about Eravis was respect and affection, nothing more. She helped me deceive her father at great risk to her own life. She was my only friend during that time. We pretended to be man and wife to keep Gavril from forcing us to be together with his sway. But I never loved her. Not with my heart and not with my body. My heart and soul belong to you.” He waited a moment to see what she might say or do, but she only stood there staring at him, as cold and unmoving as a statue. Feeling his own pain threatening to overwhelm him, he turned and walked away.

  As they approached the city gates, Rin soldiers rode out to meet them. They didn’t raise arms, but their weapons were a handbreadth away. Not that Corwin’s forces would’ve dared try anything. The last thing they were here to do was fight.

  Corwin ran his gaze over the party, taking in their worried expressions. Besides Kate, Genet, Bonner, Nadira, Yaron, Jiro, Valora, Dal, and Signe had come with him, the best representation of their forces waiting in the dragon caves. Wanting to reassure them, Corwin said, “The missive Lord Felton sent promised we would be welcomed.”

  Dal smirked. “How does that old saying go? Bait the trap with honey to lure the bear.”

  “That doesn’t look much like honey,” Signe said, grimacing.

  Corwin was inclined to a
gree, but he squelched the doubt. “It will be fine.”

  And indeed it was fine, although certainly not warm or even welcoming. They were escorted through the streets under careful guard, the people giving them a wide berth. Corwin felt the eyes following him and heard the shocked murmurs. He rode with his head up, and every time he made eye contact with someone on the side of the road he inclined his head or offered a quick smile. I am not the enemy. I am the man who would be your king—if I can earn the right.

  It was high time he got started.

  Once they arrived at the castle, they were taken to an antechamber outside the great hall, where they waited more than an hour for admittance. Corwin sat still and resolute on one of the dozen chairs in the room, bare wood hard as stone and as uncomfortable as lying on the ground. He suspected that was the point, as was the wait, a way for Lord Felton to establish that he was in control of this situation. Corwin refused to be taken in by it. While the others milled around restless and impatient, he remained calm and focused, mulling over the argument he would make and trying not to think about what failure here would mean. The imagined voices of his doubters back in the caves kept creeping into his mind, but he silenced them over and over again.

  Finally, the door to the antechamber opened and a guard beckoned them to enter. Corwin went first, stepping through the threshold into the great hall. Columns lined both sides of the room, reaching up to the vaulted ceiling and stretching all the way to the front, where the high table perched atop a dais. A crowd of people filled the wings of the room, high-ranking soldiers and nobles alike.

  Several people sat at the high table, Lord Felton at the center with Lord Jedrek of Kilbarrow to his right and Lord Brogan of Carden to his left. As Corwin approached, he glanced at the others, recognizing Lord Luca of Thace, Lord Ormand of Marared, and, to his surprise, Lady Myrrh of Penlocke. He hadn’t known she survived the Sevan attack on her city. He knew for certain her husband, Lord Timon, had perished. His spies had brought him word that the Godking had ordered Penlocke’s ruler impaled on the spire of the temple of Penlin in the middle of the town square. For all to see and know the consequences of standing against the Godking, the proclamation posted beneath him had read.

  Reaching the front of the room, Corwin bowed. “My lords and lady of Rime, thank you for this audience.”

  Lord Felton returned the bow with a slighter one. “You are welcome here, Prince Corwin.”

  “I don’t come alone.” Corwin turned to his companions. “This is Master Yaron, former member of the red order; Valora, High Priestess of Noralah; Lord Dallin of Thornewall; Signe Leth of the Esh Islands and bearer of the secret of black powder. . . .” He paused as the crowd reacted to Signe’s name. She was as infamous as Kate. When it died down, he went on. “These are Councilors Genet and Jiro of the Wilder City; this is Tom Bonner of Farhold; Nadira Walker of Kilbarrow; and lastly, this is Kate Brighton.” He did not give her a title. He didn’t need to. Murmurs echoed all around him, the crowd restless at the presence of such guests. Kate stood straight as a sword. If the whispers about her bothered her, no evidence appeared on her face.

  “You are all . . . welcome.” Lord Felton inclined his head toward the group. “And now, young prince, we will listen to your entreaty.”

  Corwin cleared his throat, letting his gaze pass slowly over the assembled lords and lady. “As you know, Penlocke and Norgard have fallen to Sevan forces, and my brother Edwin is dead, slain by the Godking himself. These cities fell because Magnar, along with the help of Lord Rendborne, the former councilmember of Norgard turned traitor, had under his control an army of wilders—men and women of Rime enslaved for the Godking’s use.” Corwin waited a few beats, letting his words sink in. Then he went on to explain how the wilders came to be in Seva, the front that was the Inquisition, and how Gavril—another citizen of Rime—had also turned traitor, using his power to control their minds and wills.

  “But I killed Gavril,” Corwin said, “and the moment I did, those wilders were free of his control. Most of them fled Norgard and have joined forces with mine.” He gestured to his companions once more. “There are nearly a thousand of us—wilders, magists, and Rimish warriors—and we are ready to reclaim Norgard and drive the Sevan scourge back across the sea.”

  Applause broke out from several places around the room, some of the audience members lining the wings moved to it by Corwin’s speech, but it died quickly when none of the people sitting at the high table joined in. Corwin waited for them to respond, hands clasped in front of him.

  Lord Jedrek spoke first. “We are intent on reclaiming Norgard and Penlocke as well, but I for one am not certain that joining our strength with that of wilders is in Rime’s best interest.”

  Corwin resisted the urge to respond with scorn, even though Jedrek and the others deserved it for their ignorance. “I understand your concern. The Wilder War has left wounds on the cities of Rime.” Corwin turned and ran his gaze over the rest of the crowd. “Some of your loved ones died at the hand of wilders. Your husbands and brothers and uncles.” He faced front again. “But I ask you this—how many wilders have been lost? How many innocent mothers and sons, fathers and daughters, were taken from their homes and condemned by the Inquisition? Do not those wounds run even deeper? We can’t blame the wilders when all they were fighting for was the right to exist. To simply be allowed to live.”

  Jedrek shifted in his chair. “But who is to say that creatures with such powers even deserve to live? They are dangerous. When we come across a nightdrake, we kill it. We don’t debate whether it might deserve it.”

  Anger pulsed in Corwin’s temple, and it took all his might not to lash out. What was worse was that several of the other lords gave a nod in agreement with Jedrek, and the sentiment was echoed throughout the crowd. But not everyone, Corwin told himself. It was true. He could see the regret among some of the faces. Lady Myrrh’s eyes glistened with sympathy.

  “They are not creatures, Lord Jedrek, but human beings. No different from you or me. Jiro is from Andreas and Genet spent nearly all her life in Aldervale. And Kate, as you know, was born and raised in Norgard.”

  “Yes, I do know,” replied Jedrek, eyes narrowed on Kate with open hostility. “She’s the daughter of the very man who tried to kill your father.”

  Corwin drew a breath and let it out slowly. “Hale Brighton was innocent of those charges. Lord Rendborne was behind it all.” He explained how Rendborne had orchestrated the whole thing from the beginning, manipulating Grand Master Storr into starting the Inquisition, the very act that enabled the wilders to be taken in the first place. “And that is not all. Rendborne was once a Tormane, my great-great-granduncle, the man called the Nameless One. He killed his uror sign and claimed the creature’s magic as his own. He possesses the power of both wilder and magist. He is the true threat here, and he must be stopped. And that cannot be done without us united, one army of all who would see a free Rime.”

  Lady Myrrh inclined her head. “If he and the Sevans are as powerful as you claim, then who’s to say even wilder strength will make a difference?”

  “Rendborne and Magnar, along with their men, fight to conquer,” Corwin said, addressing Lady Myrrh at first but quickly shifting his gaze to include the others. “We will fight for this land we call home and for our very lives—wilder and common folk alike. That makes us much stronger. With Gavril dead and the captured wilders freed, the Sevan force is weakened. The time to strike is now.”

  Lord Felton sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand down his beard. “Perhaps you’re right, Prince Corwin, but assuming we do decide to join forces, I hope you don’t expect to lead us.”

  Corwin stared the man down, letting every ounce of surety he possessed swell inside him now. I am a Tormane, born to rule Norgard and Rime, Goddess-chosen. For the first time in days, the uror brand on his palm tingled with promised magic. “Yes, I do,” he replied firmly. “I am still the high prince, and once this war is over, I plan to complete the
uror trial. If the people of Rime will have me, I will be king. If they won’t, then another may rule. But for now it must be me who leads. I know Magnar and Rendborne both. I’ve seen their plans. I also know the ins and outs of Norgard better than anyone. It is my city, and I will lead the charge to reclaim it.”

  “Yes, that sentiment is understandable.” Jedrek gave a magnanimous nod of his head. “But how can we be certain of your loyalty to Rime? We know of your marriage to Eravis Fane. This could be a trap.”

  Corwin sighed, frustrated the subject had come up already. But before he could speak, Valora stepped forward and dropped into a bow. She had wrapped a black cloth around her forehead to cover her missing eyes, though the effect was hardly less unsettling. “My lords and lady, I have declared that marriage to be illegitimate. The Godking alone presided over it, with no honor paid to the gods, only to himself, and it was never consummated. Furthermore, I’ve spent time with Prince Corwin, and I will attest to his undying loyalty to Rime.”

  Although some of them looked convinced, Corwin still sensed the overwhelming doubt. He stepped forward. “I swear on the name of all the gods, I remain true to Rime. Everything I did while in Seva and during the conquest of Penlocke and Norgard was done against my will, the result of Gavril’s mind-control powers. But I sympathize with your doubt. You cannot understand the power of sway until you have experienced it for yourself.” He motioned to Kate, a wrench passing through his chest at the stormy look on her face.

  She came forward and everyone on the dais went still, like deer caught in the wolf’s gaze. “Prince Corwin has asked me to demonstrate the power of sway, the very magic Lord Gavril used to enslave my wilder sisters and brothers and to force our prince into betraying Rime. To that, I say this.” She reached into the fold of her cloak and withdrew a magestone collar, which she quickly fastened around her neck, rendering her magic inaccessible.