The Rose Throne (32 page)

It was another chance for her to stop, but she did
not do it. She put herself into the vines again and began to feel that they were like her own fingers. She had them climb the stairs of the Tower, always hidden so that they were beneath the stone and no one watching could see that it was the neweyr doing this work. It would look like the taweyr was cracking the stones one by one.

A gray dust filled the air of the Tower. Issa could see the dim figure of Ailsbet standing and moving to the door, looking out. She did not call for help or show any sign of terror.

She waited.

She trusts me, thought Issa.

And so she went on, using her neweyr from a distance, up and up, until she reached the door of Ailsbet’s cell. With the vines exerting pressure, the door popped open with a tiny sound.

Ailsbet let out a cry of surprise and hurried down the stairs.

Issa made sure that Ailsbet had enough time to get out. Then she sent the vines up to the top of the Tower, and instead of going in a straight line now, they went in circles, boring inside the outer walls, splitting them apart stone by stone. She began to speed up as she realized how easy it was. She had only to look inside the stones for the weakness, the bit of
life that remained in each one. For even stones were not fully dead. She had always known that, but she had never used it before.

King Haikor stood open-mouthed, and the nobles of his court let out a combined, hushed sound of awe as the Tower’s uppermost level toppled over and dropped in bits and pieces to the ground.

The dust settled, and now Issa could see for herself what was left of the Tower. The top half had fallen, like a tree whose top branches had been clipped, or a moose with its antlers sheared off, or a man who had been beheaded.

Issa stared at it to make sure that no sign of any vines was visible. Then she found herself smiling, for she could not imagine anything she could have done that would have brought her more satisfaction. It was so right, this end of King Haikor’s Tower, where he had sent so many men to wait for death. The neweyr had defeated the taweyr in the end. And no one knew it was neweyr but Issa.

She thought suddenly of the prophecy, and wondered if this was what it meant, not that the two weyrs would be joined together in actuality, but that they would appear to be joined. Could it be that easy? Had she fulfilled it already, and would the two islands be joined back together?

But there was no feeling of moving ground, of momentous change. The skies were as blue as before, and the silence seemed to grow more profound. King Haikor, of course, was the one to break it.

“My daughter,” he said.

“She lives,” said Issa. Did he care about her, after all?

“She is condemned to death,” said King Haikor. “She is mine to punish.”

“She is yours no longer,” said Issa. “You gave her life to me when you told me to show you my taweyr.”

The king’s face hardened. “I shall not have you here in my court. You must leave now, this minute. I shall not tolerate your presence here. I should have you killed,” he said.

“I shall take your daughter with me. To Weirland,” Issa said.

“Never,” said King Haikor in a low, threatening tone.

“She will go to the continent,” said Kellin, stepping forward. “And I shall make sure she can never return. For she has injured me as much as she has you.” His voice sounded harsh, as if he truly hated Ailsbet.

Issa almost believed it herself.

“Make sure she is gone, then.” King Haikor
snapped his fingers at his remaining guards and gestured toward Issa. “Make sure this one is gone, as well.”

Issa followed the guards out of the Throne Room, but when she looked out into the courtyard, she could see a hint of green poking out of the gray dirt, and she knew that whatever King Haikor thought about her actions, what she had truly done was to bring the neweyr back to the palace grounds, where it belonged.

K
ELLIN FOUND
A
ILSBET
near the crumbling walls on the west side of the palace. She was heading toward the docks. Toward Ambassador Belram’s promise and the flag of the swan of Aristonne, if she could still depend upon on it.

She started at the touch of his hand on her arm, then turned and let out a small gasp of delight. Clutching tightly to his shoulder, she asked, “How?”

“Issa claimed she had the taweyr herself,” said Kellin. “She used neweyr, disguised as taweyr, to destroy the Tower as proof.”

“Truly?” Ailsbet did not understand how it had been done. She suspected she would never know. “And now?” she asked Kellin.

“She will return to Weirland and prepare for what comes next,” he said. “But I came to tell you about Edik.”

“What is it?” asked Ailsbet.

“Edik is dead,” said Kellin. “Poisoned in the night.”

Ailsbet swayed, her stomach twisting like hot metal. Her taweyr had suddenly come back to her with a vengeance, and she wished to use it for precisely that. “My father,” she said.

“He seems ready to go to war against Weirland,” said Kellin. “I must do what I can to stop him.” He sounded bleak and hopeless.

Ailsbet replied, “He is bloodthirsty, selfish, full of moods and passions, and unpredictable. He does nothing but what suits him at the moment, and he is getting worse, Kellin. There is only one way to stop him. You must see that.”

Kellin shrugged. “For now, I promised him to see you gone from Rurik.”

“I could battle him with my taweyr. I could be queen in his place.” Hadn’t Kellin said exactly that?

“You are drained,” said Kellin. “And newly come
to your taweyr. You do not know how to use it properly. Your father has years of experience, as well as hundreds of men he can call on to give him tawyer in taxes. I thought that in time, you might find allies, and prepare for the right moment. But now?”

Ailsbet knew he was right. By showing her taweyr when she had, she had made it impossible to have any future other than one in Aristonne, banished from Rurik forever. She had been planning to choose it anyway, but it was less sweet knowing there was no other choice.

“And if you were to lie to him, to tell him that you had seen me off?” she asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“To keep me safely hidden away, in a place where you could come and teach me about the taweyr, and find supporters against him. There are many of his nobles who hate him.”

“There are,” Kellin agreed.

Ailsbet felt a stir of eagerness at the thought of fighting her father. “And would you take the risk with me?”

“Is that what you want?” asked Kellin.

It was a heady sensation, to think that she could rise up against her father and perhaps defeat him. The scenes of the battles her father had won came to
her, depicted on stained-glass windows and tapestries all through the palace. She could be the one fighting him, but she could win. It was a strong temptation.

“I brought you this,” said Kellin, and handed her her flute.

She took it from its case and put it to her lips. It immediately soothed her senses and dampened her pleasure at the thought of death. Was that why Kellin had brought it to her?

She stared at him. “Would you be loyal to me instead of to my father, if I asked it?”

He held out his hand. “Give me the flute and all your music, and promise me that you will give yourself wholeheartedly to the kingdom of Rurik and its people, and I shall,” he said.

But music was the one thing she could never give up, and she had never cared so fervently about the people of Rurik and the kingdom as Kellin did. “I will go to Aristonne,” she said at last. She would have her music and give up being princess. It was what she had always wanted.

And so Kellin took her to the dock.

Ailsbet nodded at the unweyr who were working there. She had never seen more than one at a time, but here were dozens all together, the rarest people in the two islands. They did not look so very different
on the outside, but they were different. She would be like them soon enough, once she was out on the ocean.

She watched their concentrated faces, their strong muscles. They needed no weyr to add to who they were.

Yes, that was what she wanted.

This was who she was.

With Kellin at her side, Ailsbet approached the boat that flew the Aristonne flag and thought of Prince William. Ambassador Belram was waiting for her on the deck.

“King Haikor sent you this to help speed your journey,” said Kellin, offering her a small bag of gold.

Ailsbet suspected this was from Kellin himself, but she did not argue with him. She loosened the purse and let one coin fall out into her hands. Her father’s head was there, standing out in relief, worn very little.

“Thank you,” Ailsbet whispered. “Thank you so much.” She would have sent him away then, but Kellin insisted he must wait until he had seen her board the ship.

“To report to the king?” said Ailsbet.

“He is still my king,” said Kellin.

The ship was much larger than Ailsbet had
imagined it would be, but when she stepped on board and felt the tip of the ocean for the first time, she could feel the pressure of the taweyr begin to ease inside of her. It took some time for the sailors to pull in the anchor and prepare to leave, and all that time, Kellin stood on the docks, watching her.

At last, the wooden deck of the ship seemed to come to life, and Ailsbet had to put a hand out to keep herself steady. Then she stood on the deck and watched as Kellin and Rurik grew smaller in the distance, and the ocean tore at her taweyr until she took out her flute and began to play.

T
HE NIGHT AFTER THE
T
OWER
had been destroyed, Issa was ready to leave for Weirland with her few remaining servants. She and Kellin met just outside the palace gates, but his hands were empty of belongings, as if he had decided to leave everything of this life behind him.

He smiled at her, and she ran toward him. It was dark and unusually cold for early autumn, and she wished that she were already long gone from here, safe with the man she loved.

Breathless, she reached him and flung herself into his arms. It felt so good at last to be able to be with
him without guilt. Edik was dead. Ailsbet was gone. Neither she nor Kellin could be held to their old betrothals. Issa wished she could have saved Edik, but she would not throw away her chance at happiness because of that.

She leaned into Kellin and kissed him. This time it was a tender kiss, soft and deep. There was passion in it that grew as the kiss continued, and Kellin pulled her closer. He seemed intent on proving how much he loved her, all in this one moment. But they had time together, she thought. They would have the rest of their lives.

He let her go at last, and she leaned her head against his chest in companionable silence.

“I have to tell you something,” he said.

“What is it?”

“I cannot come with you immediately.”

“Why not? Of course, you can, Kellin. You cannot stay here, not after you spoke up for Ailsbet in open court after King Haikor denied her name as his daughter. King Haikor might have looked on you as a favorite before, but not any longer.”

“Just for a little while,” said Kellin. “There are a few last things I must do here.”

“A few last things? What are they? I shall help you do them, then, and we shall go together.” Issa did not
want to go back to Weirland alone, did not want to wait for him there.

“You cannot help me. I must make sure Rurik does not immediately descend into civil war. Issa, you must go back to Weirland now, with your servants to protect you. You are no longer safe here, now that King Haikor realizes you are a threat. Whether or not he discerns that you used the neweyr instead of the taweyr, you showed power against him that no one else ever has, and that may embolden others.”

“How long do you think he will believe that it was taweyr?” asked Issa.