The World Above (14 page)

“That’s how we cross, isn’t it?” I asked, pointing. Without thinking, I laid my other hand on Robin’s arm. He started, and I backed up a step, hands in the air now to show I meant no harm. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I—”

“No, don’t,” Robin said quickly. “It’s nothing. I was lost in my thoughts. You surprised me, that’s all.”

He smiled suddenly, the expression lighting up his whole face. “I mean that as a compliment. You move well, quickly and silently as my own folk have learned to do. I forgot you haven’t been one of us for very long. But to answer your question, yes, that is how we cross. You’ll want to go carefully. The stones will be slick. I’ve taken an unintended dunking more than once.”

He might as well have told me we were going to flap our arms and fly across the river for all the attention I paid to his advice. I was still stuck fast on the fact that he’d referred to me as “one of us.”

It’s just a figure of speech
.
Get ahold of yourself, Gen
, I thought.

“I’ll go first,” Robin proposed, “since I’ve done this before.”

“Just so long as you don’t fall backward and drag me down with you,” I replied.

“I’ll remember you said that when you fall sideways and I have to pull you out,” he came right back.

We grinned at each other.
It’s so easy to tease him
, I thought.
Easier than I thought it might be. Might it be just as easy to fall in love?

One moment. That’s all it would take. A moment to let my guard down. A moment for my heart to make a leap into the unknown.

“I’m ready when you are,” I said, then wondered which I was speaking to, my conversation with Robin or my own inner monologue.

In the end, no one fell backward or sideways. Instead I fell forward and almost drenched us both.

It happened as we were almost across the river. Robin had one foot on the bank and one on the very last stone. I had literally been following in his footsteps, of course, and I had done well. But I had to hold my skirts up with one hand, and this made keeping my balance on the slippery stones more of a challenge.

As I had throughout my passage, I tested my footing before I transferred all my weight forward. I had just done so on the next to last stone when, in spite of my best efforts, I could feel my foot begin to slide out from under me. I gave a cry. Releasing my skirts, I cartwheeled my arms in the air in an attempt to keep my balance.

“Gen!” Robin called out.

In the next moment, one of his hands wrapped around my wrist. With a yank that snapped my head back, he pulled me forward, pivoting as he did so. His arm wrapped itself around my waist, and then suddenly it felt like we were flying. We landed on the hard earth of the river bank with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. I lay for a moment, trying to catch my breath, gazing up at the tops of the trees and the impossible blue of the sky.

“At least we didn’t get wet,” I said, when I had my breath back.

Robin began to laugh. To this day, I don’t think I’ve ever heard so joyful a sound.

“Gen des Jardins,” he finally said, “you are full of surprises.”

“I’m really not,” I protested. “I’m the practical one. Just ask Jack or Mama. They’ll tell you.”

All of a sudden my desire to laugh vanished. Jack was in danger. He might even be dead. How could I have forgotten, even for a moment? I felt a rush of tears fill my eyes. Embarrassed, I turned my head away. With gentle fingers, Robin reached to turn my head back, leveraging himself up on one elbow so that he could look down into my face.

“When we find out about your brother, whatever the news, I am going to find a way to make it right, Gen. I am not my father.”

“I know you’re not,” I whispered. “But if Jack is gone . . .”

“If Jack is gone, then I can never bring him back,” Robin said, his gaze steady on mine. “Just as I can never undo what my father did to yours. But I will do my best to change the future, to make certain such things never happen again. I want all our people to be free, and your rights to be restored. Do you believe me?”

“I believe you,” I said, and with the words, I discovered that I had lost the desire to cry. “I want the same thing, and one thing more.”

“What is that?” Robin asked.

“I want you to be happy in this future,” I said. “I don’t think you’ve known much happiness in the past.”

Robin’s face changed, pain and wonder combined.

“I will do my best,” he said again. “But, Gen—”

“Gen!” I heard Shannon cry out sharply. “Robin, what’s wrong?”

Robin rolled away at once. He scrambled to his feet, then reached down a hand to pull me up beside him. Now that I was on my feet once more, I could see Shannon and Steel hastening toward us.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Robin replied. “Gen just had a little difficulty getting across the stream, that’s all.”

“Don’t tell me,” Steel said as they approached. His words were light, but I saw the way his eyes darted quickly between us, as if to assess Robin’s claim that all was well. “It was that next to last stone, wasn’t it?”

“So it’s a known trickster,” I said, determined to keep my tone light. “I think you might have warned me, Robin.”

“I am dutifully chastened,” he said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. “Am I the only one who’s hungry? As long as we are met, let us have our midday meal.”

By design or happenstance, I wasn’t sure which, Shannon and I switched companions following our meal. She accompanied Robin, while I walked with Steel. Part of me was relieved; the other part was disappointed.

Both are unlike you, Gen
, I thought. I definitely seemed more prone to extremes since coming to the World Above.

“Thank you for agreeing to walk with me,” Steel said, his tone somewhat formal. “I wasn’t sure that you would want to.”

I came to a full stop. “Steel,” I said. “Can we please get something straight right here and now? I don’t dislike you.”

“But you don’t quite like me either,” he responded.

“I don’t
know
you,” I replied. “You don’t know me.”

“True enough,” Steel said. We continued on in silence. Robin and Shannon were no longer in sight.

Oh, nicely done, Gen
, I thought as we walked along.
Offend the man who thinks he’s just as responsible for your father’s death as Guy de Trabant himself
.

“Are there really tales that claim Duke Roland’s heir would someday return?” I asked after a moment.

“There are,” Steel answered promptly. “They began not long after your father’s death. No one knows quite how they started.”

“Oh, but surely Rowan, the wise woman . . . ,” I began, then stopped. There was something about the set of Steel’s shoulders, the determined lack of expression on his face. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Steel did not reply.

“But why?” I asked, certain that I was right. “Duke Roland was dead. What could you possibly hope to accomplish?”

“To be a thorn in Guy de Trabant’s side, if nothing else,” Steel admitted quietly. “But also . . . to make amends, though I know that is impossible. To tell you the truth, I never expected the stories I spread to reach so many. But the people truly loved your parents. They were eager to hope that your mother might have survived, that she might have secretly given birth to Duke Roland’s heir. She disappeared so quickly and was so well hidden. It was not as far-fetched as it sounds.”

“Will you tell me something else?” I asked. “Will you tell me what happened the night my father died?”

“Are you sure you really want to hear it?” Steel asked.

“No, I’m not,” I replied honestly. “But I’ve had to do a lot of things I didn’t initially want to do. Maybe this should be one of them. And I think perhaps it would be good for both of us if you were to tell me.”

“There isn’t all that much to tell,” Steel began. “My father was Duke Roland’s seneschal. He helped to run his estates and to organize all his public functions.”

“A well-educated man,” I said, then decided to hazard a guess. “But not a soldier.”

“No.” Steel shook his head. “He was trained in weapons as every man of his station was, of course, but his purpose in the castle was not to be a man-at-arms.”

And neither was yours
, I thought.

“How did you come to be with my father that night?” I asked.

“Through Duke Roland’s kindness,” Steel answered at once. “I was quick with my lessons, even as a boy. Duke Roland collected manuscripts.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said.

“Did you not?” Steel asked, surprised. “I thought perhaps your mother might have told you.”

“To tell you the truth,” I said slowly, thinking back, “she really doesn’t talk about him very much. Not in the way you and I are talking now. Until lately, everything Jack or I ever knew about the World Above we learned from my mother’s bedtime stories. Mostly she told about how she’d made her escape, how we all ended up living in the World Below.”

“Your mother was very brave, to go so far all on her own,” Steel said.

“Yes,” I said. “I suppose she was, but you’re trying to change the subject.”

Steel boosted himself up onto an enormous tree trunk that had fallen across our way. He reached down to take my hand, then pulled me up beside him. Hands still clasped, we jumped down on the far side, the floor of the Greenwood, soft with fallen leaves, cushioning our landing.

“It was just a particular set of circumstances that put me in Duke Roland’s rooms that night,” he went on. He released his hold on my hand. “Your mother was away, the duke had a new manuscript, and I was visiting my father. I had recently returned after visiting my mother’s people.”

“How old were you?” I asked.

“Eighteen,” Steel answered shortly. “When Duke Roland learned that I was in the castle, he sent for me. He wanted to show me the new manuscript. I remember it was a quiet autumn evening, just cool enough for a fire. Duke Roland sent his retainers away. I’ve often thought . . . if he’d been better guarded . . .”

“It might not have made a difference,” I said quietly. “He didn’t think to guard for a danger from within.”

“No,” Steel said, his tone grim. “He did not. We had just begun to pore over the manuscript when the door burst open. They were on us almost before I could reach for my sword.”

“Was Guy de Trabant with them?” I asked.

Steel shook his head. “No. But we could hear his voice, shouting. I remember having time to think, ‘It will be all right. Lord Guy is coming. He will stop them.’ Then he came through the door. There was something about the look on his face.” Steel shook his head, as if to shake out the ugly memory. “There was such a strange, wild light in his eyes.”

“You knew,” I said.

“I knew,” Steel echoed. “And so did Duke Roland. Guy de Trabant had not come to save us. I began to struggle. I remember Duke Roland’s voice saying, ‘Guy, not the boy.’ Then something hit me in the head. I saw blood, but I couldn’t tell whose it was, mine or Duke Roland’s. By the time I knew myself again, it was over. Your father was dead, and Guy de Trabant had seized the castle.”

“It’s a miracle he let you live,” I said.

“It is.” Steel nodded. “I’ve never understood why.”

“Perhaps he simply decided there’d been enough killing,” I said. “My father’s death was the only one he really needed, after all.”

“Duke Roland saved me,” Steel said, his voice filled with emotion. “I couldn’t save him. All my life, I’ve been sorry for it.”

We continued in silence. It was painful to hear about my father’s death, the untimely end of a good man, a man who had been loved. But not so painful that I couldn’t bear it. I had never had the chance to know him, after all. But Steel had carried the burden of that night for many years.

“I’m glad my father had someone he loved with him at the end,” I finally said. “Perhaps that is also a way to think about what happened that night. Guy de Trabant’s betrayal must have hurt my father deeply. He had loved him like a son. But Duke Roland died knowing your life would be spared, and because of you, he did not die alone.”

“You are very generous,” Steel said, after a moment.

“No,” I said. “I’m not. I’m just practical. And you’ve given me a gift, even if it is a painful one. You have brought my father to life, if only for a moment. You’ve shown me how generous
he
was.”

“I’m sure Duke Roland would be proud to know you were his daughter,” Steel said.

Now it was my turn to become grim. “Even though I failed to save his son?”

“You don’t know that,” Steel said swiftly. “None of us does.”

“You’re right,” I said, with a lift of my chin. “We don’t.”

What was it Shannon had said as we stood before my parents’ portrait? Jack wasn’t the only one who resembled my father. I did too, in my determination. It was time to demonstrate it now, time to prove I was Duke Roland’s child.
His true heir
, I thought. For that is precisely what I was.

“Are we friends now?” I asked.

“Yes,” Steel said. “I believe that we are.”

“In that case, I wonder if I might ask you to tell me one last thing.”

“What’s that?” he asked, though I thought I could tell from the smile on his face that he knew perfectly well.

“What’s your real name?” I asked.

“Gerard.”

“Gerard,” I said, rolling the sound of it around in my mouth. “It’s nice, but I think that I like Steel better. It suits you, somehow.”

“I have grown accustomed to it,” Steel answered. “But it is good to remember the lad that I once was. You have given me that gift.”

“So we are friends and we are even,” I said. “What could be better than that?”

“Hush!” Steel said suddenly. He stopped walking abruptly, holding up a hand for silence. His head whipped from side to side. “Fool, idiot,” I heard him swear. “So lost in the past you forgot to pay attention to the present.”

“What is it?” I whispered urgently. “What?”

Before he could even draw breath to answer, we were surrounded by Duke Guy’s soldiers.