The Twelve Kingdoms (28 page)

By the time we returned to the house high on the cliff, it had grown full dark—but Andi and Rayfe had not returned. Smiling Tala brought us a meal, so Harlan and I dined on the balcony of our rooms. We put out all the lamps, keeping only the candle on our table to eat by, all the better to enjoy the startling starscape descending to the calm waters. As with the night before, the food tasted sublime—brighter and fresher than even Ordnung could command. With such a bounty, we could relieve much of the hunger of the Twelve Kingdoms.

A thought that no doubt would make Rayfe and his Tala council feel justified in their suspicions. Still, I found it difficult to reconcile that Annfwn enjoyed so much while my own people suffered.

“Were I King of the Tala,” Harlan said, in an uncanny echo of my thoughts, “I would never agree to take down the barrier. To do so would only invite pillaging of the richness of this land.”

“How would you carry the goods over the mountains, though?”

He squinted out at the sea. “The oceans all connect. The magical barrier must extend all around, else the water would not be so warm. Take that barrier down and you could sail all the ships in that you pleased.”

It made for an interesting puzzle. “The Twelve has never needed much of a navy, so our ships are primarily for fishing and trade—and those are located mainly on the southern and eastern coasts. I'm given to understand that sailing around the Crane Isthmus is a challenging voyage. Though I believe only the adventurers have tried it. There has never been a strong incentive to ply trade along the west coast.”

“Or not one anyone knew about before.”

“I really hope you two are not plotting how you'd invade Annfwn by sea,” Andi said, emerging into our ring of candlelight. She looked tired and irritated.

I sat back in my chair. “Would you believe that it was more of an academic exercise?”

“Actually, from you, yes.” She poured herself a glass of wine. “But do me a favor and don't let Rayfe overhear that sort of thing.”

“Difficult council meeting?”

She sighed. “Yes. Certain factions . . . are not happy. News of this Temple of Deyrr has people shaken. There are some among us who know something about them. Nothing good.”

“You told them about that?”

She returned my gaze steadily, without flinching. “Did you think I wouldn't?”

In truth, it hadn't occurred to me, or I might have attempted to extract a promise of secrecy from her. Water under the bridge now. “We may not have a formal alliance, beyond your marriage—which goes a long way in my mind—but I'd like to think we're on the same side of this. I'd appreciate any information or assistance your people can provide.”

“I'm working on it.” Her dry tone spoke volumes about the resistance she'd encountered. Her gaze fell to my sword, which I'd laid on the bench beside me. “May I see it?” she asked. She said it carefully enough that it was clear she appreciated that Harlan might not know.

I handed her the sheathed sword, pommel up, the depthless topaz gleaming like its own candle flame. “The Star of Annfwn,” I said, for both their benefits, and in the interest of all being on the same side. “Whatever that means.”

She rubbed the pad of her thumb over it, the same way I had a habit of doing. “It's hot.”

“Has been since we crossed the border.”

Raising her eyebrows at that, she held it up to the light, turning it. “And it's a perfect sphere?”

“Yes, very smooth. No facets.”

“She didn't tell you anything about it when she gave it to you?”

“Not any more than I've already told you. I was young. You were still in the nursery and Ami not yet born. There might have been more that I don't remember.”

“Doubtful. You remember every thrice-damned thing.”

“Can you tell me more about it?”

“Nothing specific. It sort of focuses and orders magic, much like other parts of Annfwn do, so I recognize it in that way.”

“You were born and she knew you were the one with the mark when she gave it to me—why didn't she give it to you instead?”

Andi handed the sword back to me and briskly rubbed her palms together, as if wiping off water. “Salena didn't do anything without a plan—long-range ones that stagger me to imagine how she followed visions from that far out. Clearly she knew you'd need this tool to focus your own magic, for something you'll need to do.”

“Except I don't have—”

“I know, I know.” She rose and, with an affectionate smile, surprised me by bending to plant a kiss on my brow. “You think you don't have any magic. We'll leave at dawn, so I'm off to bed in the hopes of being awake enough not to fall off Fiona.”

“As if you've ever fallen off a horse in your life.”

She laughed. “See? We know each other well. Good night, Captain Harlan. Rest well and be good to my sister.”

“She's a very interesting woman,” Harlan commented. “I did not hear her approach.”

“Andi has always been very good at not being noticed when she doesn't want to be. Rather the opposite of Ami, who stands out like the sun breaching the horizon, turning night into day.” I yawned, surprised that I was sleepy. The good food, better wine, sunshine, and relaxation, no doubt.

Harlan rose and blew out the candle. “Let us follow your sister's example, then. Dawn will come soon enough. Do you want me to sleep on the floor?”

“No.” It would be silly, given that we'd already slept in each other's arms, more than once. “But, I don't think I—”

He stopped me with a tender brush of his fingers on my cheek. “I read you well enough now, and you're hardly shy. When you want more of me, I'll know. Until then, I'm happy to feel you beside me.”

I found a short, light gown to wear to bed. Harlan simply stripped and climbed in. After a moment's hesitation, I laid my sword next to the bed on the floor. If only the punsters could see. I thought he might have fallen asleep already, but he shifted when I slid under the sheet, extending his arm so I could snuggle against him, my head pillowed in the fold of his shoulder, which had already begun to feel natural and right.

I drifted into an easy sleep and vivid dreams.

I stood in the court at Ordnung, empty but for me. In my hand, I held the Star of Annfwn, a perfect sphere unfettered by the metal setting of the sword hilt. It burned my palm, glowing as hot and bright as the star it was named for. Though the white marble hall blazed clean and bright, shadows fluttered around the edges, disappearing when I tried to look at them directly.

I tried to draw my sword, but I couldn't seem to move. Something whispered behind me, and though I attempted to spin to face it, I couldn't. As if seeing myself from another's eyes, I realized I wore a gown fashioned of metal. Like my battle armor but welded at the joints, covering my whole body. Instead of having articulated limbs, the sleeves, bodice, and long skirt were frozen metal—appearing to flow, but rigid and unmovable. It encased me like a cage. I couldn't move no matter how I fought to, to fight the thing crawling up behind me, breathing hot on my neck.

Flinging myself awake, I found I'd turned in my sleep, so my back was to Harlan. He'd draped an arm and leg over me and breathed heavily in sleep, his warm breath the obvious trigger for my dream. Still, the dregs of the nightmare clung and I couldn't bear to lie still. Easing out from under his bulk, I slipped out the open doors to the balcony and the soft, warm night.

I poured myself some wine and paced the length of the balcony for a while, steadying my pounding heart with even breathing, walking off the dregs of the dream. If I'd known the place a little better, I'd have found a place to run a few forms, sweated out the dread those flickering shadows had left behind. Instead I finally sat and watched out over the sea.

And waited for dawn to arrive.

“Y
ou should have wakened me,” Harlan grumbled.

“Why should we both miss sleep?” I returned mildly as I strapped on my sword and made a final check of my various blades.

“Because, Ursula, you don't have to face things alone.”

“I wasn't ‘facing' anything. I woke up early is all.”

“What woke you?”

“Probably the fact that you were crushing me and hogging the bed. You're just annoyed that you didn't feel me get up.”

“What ‘annoys' me is that you continue to lie to me about how you feel.” He came over and grasped my arms, searching my face. “Do you think I can't see the shadows in your face this morning, can't smell the wine on your breath or feel the tension coming off of you?”

I pulled away, shrugging off his hands. “Don't worry—I'll be fine to fight if we encounter trouble.”

He barked out a laugh. “That's my last concern. You would no doubt find a way to kill all the Tala rather than fail to protect your sisters. But you're not ducking this so easily. What upset you?”

“You know exactly what's on my mind. I'm not upset.” I had to make an effort to keep my tone even. “I'm thinking ahead to the next steps.”

“Those same things were on your mind last night and you fell asleep well enough. Was it a nightmare?”

“Danu, you're a stubborn man!”

“And you're a hardheaded woman. What did you dream?”

“None of your thrice-damned business.”

“It is if I caused it.” He looked grim. “Is it me? Did I bring back bad memories?”

“No.” I should have thought of that, that he'd be concerned. “Nothing to do with that. I'm over it.”

“Another untruth.”

“Okay.” I ran my hands through my hair, scratching my scalp to get my brain going. “We both know I'm not over it—but that's not what's bothering me. I had your typical bad dream and couldn't go back to sleep. Not a big deal.”

“What was the dream?”

“Harlan.” The Star against my thumb was too hot to soothe. Uncertain how else to reassure him, I went to him and rubbed my palms over his chest, the muscles warm and firm under his light shirt. “It's not you. I don't want to rehash it. Just mental garbage.”

He slid his hands up my forearms, then covered my hands with his, holding them pressed against him. “Your sister has visions of the future—how do you know this wasn't something like that?”

If an armored court gown and invisible monsters in the court at Ordnung lay in my future, then I'd be in for some difficult days. “Trust me, it wasn't. Let's go. They'll be waiting for us.”

“For someone who outranks everyone, you are unusually concerned about people waiting for you.”

“I don't outrank Uorsin and he's a bear about being kept waiting,” I surprised myself by confiding. From Harlan's sideways glance, he'd noticed the slip, too. It had never really occurred to me before how much fear of displeasing my father had shaped me that way. I didn't understand why I'd thought to say it now. Except that Harlan drew those sorts of confessions out of me. Something I needed to be wary of.

You don't have to face things alone,
he'd said.

But, if I were to draw any meaning from that dream, it was that I'd been all alone.

In the end, I suspected I always would be.

Annfwn barely stirred as we rode out of the cliff city with Andi, Rayfe, and a small squad of Tala who looked suitably dangerous, with their blue eyes and feral movements. To my relief, Andi reported that Dafne had been happy to stay behind, setting herself the task of studying the Tala language.

“I warned her I've been immersed in it for nearly a year and I'm still fumbling through,” Andi told me. “It's structured in a very different way.”

“I learned your Common Tongue, didn't I?” Rayfe put in, with an arrogant raise of his brows, but a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Don't start with me.” Andi didn't bother to look at him. “You had your whole life to learn. I've caught up pretty well.”

“You've done brilliantly, my queen. As I knew you would.”

She rolled her eyes but flushed with pleasure. We rode at a fast clip, easier for the streets being mostly empty. With the sun rising behind the cliff, we remained in shadow for some time, gaining the beach and riding north. We soon passed the point Harlan and I had run to, then on farther, until we finally reached the far end of the cliff city, where Tala habitation gave way to coastal marshes and flatlands. We'd been riding too fast for conversation, so I had to wait until we broke for lunch to ask any questions. Andi had clearly not wanted to discuss much while in the city, a discretion I appreciated, though I disliked not being in on the plan.

“Do we know where we're going?” I inquired, very politely, I thought.

Rayfe, however, glowered. Andi sighed and flicked him a quelling glance. “More or less. I know this is the correct general direction. I'm hoping that as we get closer, we'll get more clues.”

“Going this fast,” Harlan pointed out, “does not allow for tracking.”

“No, I know that.” Andi pushed her hair back off her shoulders, then absently began braiding it, her brows drawn together in thought. Or something else. “We're not close enough yet for that.”

Rayfe huffed with impatience. “I know you've seen the place we'll find them. We should go straight there.”

“That's only one possibility, and I don't—” Her gaze drifted to Harlan before she drew it back in. “It's not ideal. I want to see how events shift as we get closer.”

Something about the way she'd looked at Harlan made my blood run cold. I waited until she and I had a moment alone. “What aren't you saying?”

“Nothing. I mean . . .” She blew out a breath. “It should be no surprise to you that danger lies ahead. There are a lot of ways this plays out and it's not always clear which series of actions leads to which outcome. I want to go about this carefully.”

“And Rayfe doesn't agree?”

“Rayfe is much like you.” She smiled, though it was full of exasperation. “You are both creatures of action and like to be in charge. But you're both going to have to lump it and let me direct things for the time being. You'll have your time.”

I studied her. “That's why you expected me. Why you wanted my help. Not because of my tracking skills or my sword arm, but because you saw I would be here.”

She held up her palms, confessing her culpability. “Some events are more inevitable than others.”

“And Captain Harlan—was he inevitable?”

She set a hand on my arm. “You sneer, but yes. Remember that, would you?”

The mercenary sat on a driftwood log, legs stretched out as he rested, idly polishing a knife that likely needed no cleaning. Catching my glance, he smiled with easy affection and lifted the flat of his blade to his forehead.

“What does that mean?” Andi asked.

“I have no idea. Some sort of Dasnarian salute.”

“Have you seen him use it with anyone but you?”

“No.” Something that had occurred to me, also, but odd that Andi had noted it so quickly.

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“You should ask him what it means.”

“Maybe.”

She looked amused, but also concerned. “I wish you'd let him love you, Ursula. Don't be stubborn about this.”

“I'm not stopping him, am I? The mercenary does as he pleases.”

With a sigh, she shook her head. “Just . . . have a little pity on those of us who love you, okay? It's not always easy.”

She went to join Rayfe, leaving me to stand and wonder what she'd meant.

We rode hard all afternoon and well into the evening, breaking only at full dark to camp on the beach.

“Tomorrow,” Andi declared after we'd eaten, “we'll turn inland, a few hours into morning. After that things will get interesting. Expect trouble.”

“How bad?” I wanted to know.

She shrugged a little. “There are many possible outcomes—some are dire, some not as terrible. I don't see any way around it. Tomorrow marks the beginning of a difficult time for us all.”

“Then we'd best enjoy ourselves while we can.” Rayfe put an arm around Andi and the atmosphere noticeably thickened. “If you'll excuse us. We'll see you all in the morning.”

They went off down the beach together, and the Tala squad fell to some sort of dicing game, talking among themselves. I shook my head a little. Not that I hadn't seen it all the time, fighters pairing off to enjoy a night of lust before battle. Contemplating my little sister having a wild night of beach sex was something else.

Harlan leaned back on his elbows, not bothering to pretend he wasn't watching me, waiting for an indication of what I wanted.
Have a little pity on those of us who love you.

Thing was, I wasn't entirely certain of the kindest way to handle him.

“Want to take a walk?” I asked him.

He smiled, entirely too pleased. “Always.”

“To talk,” I specified.

“We can do that.” He sprang to his feet with that agility so remarkable for his size and offered me a hand up. Keeping my hand in his, he turned us in the other direction down the beach, away from where Andi and Rayfe had gone to find privacy. Idly his thumb rubbed over the back of my hand, much as I habitually touched the Star.

“What's that sort of salute you always give me?”

He slid me a glance. “Why do you want to know?”

I couldn't very well say because Andi had prompted me to find out. “Just making conversation.”

“That excuse might work if you were a person who makes conversation, but you aren't. Even with apparently idle court chitchat, you always have a goal in mind.”

“Fine.” Was the man always right? “I wondered because it occurred to me that there's some significance to you in it. If that's so, then I should probably know what it is.”

He stopped, framed my face in his hands, and kissed me, long and sweet, stealing my breath.

“What was that for?”

“For trusting me with an honest answer.”

“Is this a reward system?”

“Yes.” He took my hand again and resumed walking. “With the added benefit of allowing me to take pleasure in you at the same time. And I'd thought I'd better kiss you now, in case you don't like
my
answer.”

Danu. I was afraid of that.
That
was why I hadn't asked.

“It more of a pledge than a salute,” he said. “The
Elskastholrr
. It's a way that a Dasnarian man offers himself to the woman he wishes to be with.”

“To take to bed.”

“More than that.”

“How much more?”

“A lifetime's worth.”

I halted and he turned to face me, placid expression, battle readiness beneath. “You did not just tell me that all along you've been offering me some sort of marriage proposal.”

“Correct. I did not.”

I blew out a relieved breath. Became aware that he hadn't relaxed. “What, then?”

He tucked his thumbs in his sword belt, watching me carefully. “As far as I'm concerned, I've pledged myself to you, forever.”

Flabbergasted, I had no words. No breath for words. “Are you out of your mind?” I finally got out. “I told you I have no idea what the future holds. Besides, you did that first only hours after we met. Danu—we hadn't even had a real conversation at that point.”