6. Kianthe
Chapter six
Kianthe
I f she hadn’t just learned Bobbie had a longstanding relationship with this pirate, Kianthe would have figured it out by the way they shouted across the river to each other. Serina was a curvy woman with long, wavy brown hair and skin the color of the wheat she’d stolen. Wheat that was now bundled in open-air crates, which the pirate seemed quite intent on protecting.
On the shoreline, thundering along on her horse, Bobbie was clearly not pleased.
Visk drifted above it all, his wings tilting almost idly as he eased through the clouds. Kianthe braced herself against his feathery neck to observe the maybe-lovers’ spat happening on the ground.
This was great stuff for her upcoming novel. The book may only be a few moments in the making… but if Reyna wanted to read it, Kianthe would oblige. She’d been meaning to try her hand at writing anyway.
Below, Serina was scrambling around her deck attempting to secure the crates of wheat. It was clear from a griffon’s-eye-view that the river split unexpectedly and she’d intended to take the other side, which looked like a lovely, winding stroll. But either the rain had interfered with her navigation, or the pirate just wasn’t paying attention, because she’d sailed right into the “certain death” side instead.
Her “ship”—which Kianthe had expected would be a larger vessel, based on the conversations around it—was more of a small fishing boat. It had one sail and seemed to boast a smaller storage area below deck, but Serina would be sleeping under the stars on a boat like this.
Which meant it really wasn’t faring well with these rapids.
And yet, she had the audacity to shout to the constable: “Just because I pillage doesn’t mean I’m breaking the law!”
Bent over her horse, Bobbie hollered, “That’s exactly what it—” She cut herself off, trying a different path. “Never mind. Serina, you have to get to shore.”
Kianthe tapped Visk’s neck. When she had her griffon’s attention, the mage said, “Remember this, buddy. Great shit happening here. Star-crossed lovers. No. Sea-crossed lovers.” A pause. “River-crossed lovers. Hmm. It’s falling apart, isn’t it?”
Visk chirped.
Kianthe opened her mouth to keep musing—and realized too late that Serina was making a very stupid decision.
Instead of riding out the currents with confidence and grace, waiting for the moment that the Arcandor would gently guide her ship to shore, Serina had panicked on hearing the word “waterfall” and spun the helm violently. The result was her small boat twisting sideways on the river, and immediately water washed onto the deck, capsizing the entire thing.
The whole event took less than a few breaths and Kianthe was left staring at the spot where Serina used to be sailing.
Suddenly, Kianthe’s “no one is going to die” line wasn’t so funny.
An anguished scream sliced through the air, and Bobbie yanked her horse’s reins so the animal skid to a stop, spraying mud. She leapt off his back, sprinting towards the riverbank like she was going to dive into the water herself. In the very next breath, a wall of earth pinned her legs, physically trapping her from that suicidal move.
Bobbie might be pissed about that later, but Kianthe couldn’t deal with two people drowning right now.
“Visk,” the mage snapped, but her griffon was already diving towards the waterfall. Kianthe pushed upright on his back, digging her knees into his shoulders to gain as much height as she could. With a violent ripping motion, she physically pulled the currents away from each other, slicing the river in half.
Serina’s ship was already starting to shatter along the river rocks. The crates were gone… and odds were the ship was too. Kianthe may be the most powerful elemental mage—but even the Arcandor couldn’t stop an entity like the Nacean River. It was like standing on the sun, trying not to burn.
But there was Serina, pinned between her ship and the water gushing at her from every angle. She seemed to be frozen in a state of panic, eyes wide, choking on water. She was going to die. Stone damn it all, if Kianthe blinked for even a second, this woman would die. Kianthe couldn’t let that happen—couldn’t bear to look Reyna in the eyes if it did.
Panic swelled in her chest, overridden for now by sheer determination. Not today. Sweat poured down Kianthe’s face as she peeled water away from the pirate, like stripping a very stubborn orange. “Visk,” she gasped. “Get her! I’ll hold the water.”
Visk tried, he really did. He screeched, folding his wings, and angled straight for the raging river. But the rain was too intense; the ship groaned and cracked and even Kianthe commanding the wood to stay put couldn’t stop the enormous pressure slamming into this boat.
It shifted, knocking Serina further downriver, and she vanished into the rapids.
Right over the waterfall’s edge.
“Visk!” Kianthe screamed.
But her mount wasn’t afraid of danger, and griffons were among the most agile creatures in the sky. He dove, slicing between shards of sodden wood and broken crates, and hooked his talons into Serina’s clothes.
It wasn’t gentle, but it worked.
Kianthe felt like crying in relief. She released the magic holding the river back, and a violent flood cascaded over the waterfall. The Nacean itself seemed irate with the interruption, but Kianthe scowled at it and, deep in the Magicary, the Stone of Seeing pulsed to reinforce her will, quieting the river into normal rapids.
They soared up over the waterfall’s lip. Visk beat his wings confidently, peering at his catch… but Serina was limp.
Still.
“Find a spot to land,” Kianthe ordered.
The griffon chittered agreement and angled to the shoreline. There was a section of dense pine trees, their branches plentiful enough to keep the rain off the ground, yet high enough that Visk could carefully weave between them—at least a little ways in.
He set Serina down, beating his wings fiercely as he landed beside her.
Kianthe leapt off his back. “Get Rain.”
The griffon was off without any extra prodding.
Kianthe dropped to Serina’s side, pressing a hand to her chest, feeling the water in her lungs. Dangerous, but fixable. Irritation swelled unfairly at this woman, at the casual disregard for her own life, at the position she’d placed Kianthe in with just a few bad decisions.
No time. Drawing a shaky breath, Kianthe hooked her magic into the water, tugging it out of Serina’s chest. The pirate coughed harshly, violently, but Kianthe pulled until every drop was expelled.
She was breathing now, but she still wasn’t moving.
Long, wheezing breaths passed.
Why wasn’t she moving?
“Key,” Reyna gasped. She must have been close for Visk to return this fast. She dismounted the griffon—Lilac had probably been tethered somewhere in her haste—and sprinted over. Ponder was close on her heels, trouncing happily and biting Reyna’s ankles until Visk nipped her tail. The baby griffon sulked back to the clearing’s edge, giving them room.
Reyna crashed to her knees beside Serina. “Is she alive?”
“I—I think so?” Kianthe’s voice wobbled, and she refused to get close.
Her fiancée checked the pirate’s pulse, her breathing, just like Matild had taught her. “Unconscious.”
Reyna rocked back on her heels, turning that calculating gaze to Kianthe instead. And just like always, she saw past the bravado, past the shield of her humor. Kianthe’s heart pounded, her hands shook, and she couldn’t stop remembering the vicious, almost irate pull of the river as it tried to swallow Serina whole.
She couldn’t contain her shudder.
Reyna’s brow knitted together.
“I’m okay,” the mage tried to say.
“It’s all right if you aren’t.” Reyna pushed to her feet, pulled Kianthe into a tight embrace. Reyna’s hugs were always like an anchor in a storm—a welcome thing when Kianthe’s brain felt like it was spinning out of control.
She should have been faster.
She shouldn’t have wasted time updating Reyna and Bobbie.
She shouldn’t have joked or flown overhead judging a stupid conversation while the rapids loomed.
She should have just plucked Serina off the boat when she first saw her and been done with—
“Kianthe.” Reyna pressed a kiss to her forehead, and the should-haves stopped.
“Sorry.” Kianthe forced a smile. She was making a concerted effort to control her anxiety, to remember the here and now instead of spiraling into dangerous potential outcomes. And right now, Reyna’s body fit against hers like a glove, her hand warm on Kianthe’s cheek.
When she said, “You saved her life,” it was with such adoration that Kianthe wondered what it would be like to see herself the way Reyna saw her: as a hero, a confident, capable mage. And then that niggling fear slipped in, making her wonder what would happen if the Arcandor didn’t save someone.
Would Reyna still speak to her like that?
“Her ship is gone.” Kianthe clenched her eyes shut. “I tried to save it, but the river swallowed it too fast. I could have stopped it with a bit more time, or—or a stronger ley line.”
It wasn’t even that the ley line here was weak ; in fact, so close to the Magicary and the venerated Stone of Seeing, magic thrummed everywhere. But rivers held an ancient power, stronger even than stone… and the Nacean was the largest river in the Realm. Controlling it for longer than a few breaths would take immense preparation.
Reyna pulled back, lifting Kianthe’s chin. “Let me repeat what’s important: Serina is alive. You saved her life.” She waited for a few moments, and when Kianthe didn’t argue, she turned back to the griffons. Ponder had found a very interesting mushroom at the base of a nearby tree and was testing its strength against her talons.
The talons were winning.
Reyna sighed and turned to Visk instead. “Can you get Bobbie? Bring her here.”
The griffon chittered agreement, pointedly glared at Ponder, then prowled through the trees before taking off over the river. The baby griffon watched him go, then went back to her mushroom, sinking her claws into its bulbous shape.
A bitter chill whipped through the air, and Kianthe ignited her hands to keep everyone warm while they waited. She remembered belatedly that Bobbie would still be trapped in her stone shackles and pulled that magic away so the earth crumbled back into the ground. At least now Visk would be able to physically bring her.
While the moments passed, Kianthe’s heart began to slow and her hands stopped shaking, but she kept glancing at Serina. Just in case.
As if she sensed the attention, the pirate groaned. Reyna bent back over her, pushing sopping hair off the pirate’s face. Serina had round cheeks, thick bangs, and—finally, Kianthe could see them—blue eyes. The color of a stormy ocean, almost gray, but with a hint of deep-sea.
“Y’can’t arrest me,” Serina mumbled, her voice hoarse from choking on water. She noticed Reyna, blinked heavily, and asked, “Who—” before breaking off into another round of coughing.
She sounded half dead. Reyna glanced at Kianthe, concern written on her features—for both Serina, and how Kianthe would react to this development. To reassure her, and possibly hide some of Kianthe’s own turbulent emotions, the mage mustered up some humor.
Just for Reyna, mind.
“Just once,” Kianthe stepped into Serina’s line of sight. “I’d like to have a vacation without mortal peril. I don’t feel like that’s too much to ask.”
And bless her, Reyna took the bait, slipping into their normal routine of banter. “Darling, this isn’t a vacation.” She cast Kianthe a wry smile, one that said, I see you, and everything’s okay , and tapped Serina’s shoulder to regain her focus. “And you should probably learn to sail better.”
Shifting the blame, as if this wasn’t Kianthe’s fault to begin with.
Kianthe both loved and hated that Reyna felt the need to do that.
“T-Thanks,” Serina muttered. She blinked, still dazed, clearly fading again. “If you see a mean-looking sheriff, tell her to fuck off.”
Kianthe snorted. She couldn’t help it.
“I’m a constable,” Bobbie said from the edge of the clearing, clearly exasperated. She stepped to Serina, but the pirate clearly hadn’t heard her—or was ignoring her in the most fabulous fashion. Either way, Serina’s eyes were closed yet again, lying prone on the hard ground.
Kianthe balled up the flames in her palms, sending them into the trees in tiny flickers of ever-flame. They’d burn, offering light and a gentle warmth, but they wouldn’t ignite anything. Not even the few drops that made it past the canopy would extinguish them.
Bobbie knelt beside Reyna, pushing a strand of hair off Serina’s face. The motion was so gentle, so intimate, that even Reyna looked away. A fond smile tilted Bobbie’s lips, and her green eyes cut back to Reyna and Kianthe.
“Thank you,” she said, voice thick.
Kianthe nodded, and for a moment, she didn’t feel like a total failure. Reyna took position beside her, squeezing her hand in reassurance.
That was the moment Bobbie seemed to realize what was happening, because she straightened stiffly. The professional constable, private lawman of the diarn’s lands, was back in a breath.
Reyna had always worn her Queensguard personality like a second skin, so close to her actual temperament that it took Kianthe two seasons to recognize the difference. With Bobbie, it was like watching a child struggling into a parent’s oversized jacket.
Acting at its finest.
Kianthe was beginning to wonder if Bobbie was in the right field.
“Diarn Arlon will want to know we’ve captured the pirate.” The constable pushed to her feet, squinting at the sky, then the river. “The town of Neolow isn’t far from here. We’ll bunk there for the night, then begin the trek back to his estate tomorrow morning.”
“You’re still going to turn her in?” Kianthe said incredulously.
“Of course.” Bobbie glanced at Serina, regret evident on her features. “She can’t just run around breaking the law. Unless you want to fly her back to the diarn tonight?”
While she spoke, Bobbie pulled Serina’s limp form into an upright position. The pirate’s head fell against her shoulder in what might have been a nice embrace—except for when Bobbie expertly tied Serina’s wrists together with a rope.
“Huh. You’re awfully good at that. Had a lot of practice?” Kianthe said innocently.
Bobbie nearly choked, fidgeting suddenly with the knots.
Meanwhile, Reyna had her scheming face on again. It was like watching a theater production, carefully coordinated, yet utterly innocent. When she spoke, it was with the exact right amount of exhaustion and amicability.
“I’d prefer a night to recuperate. This day was rather eventful.” Reyna yawned—a fake yawn, but Bobbie wouldn’t know that—and offered a smile that sent butterflies through Kianthe’s stomach. “Darling, if you fly me back to my horse, we can simply meet Bobbie and Serina at Neolow.”
“I may need help getting her to my mount—” Bobbie said.
“Nonsense. You wouldn’t transport a prisoner before they’re conscious, would you?” Reyna crossed her arms, disapproval in her features.
Kianthe nearly snorted.
Bobbie looked uneasy. “Protocol dictates—”
“You have a protocol for this ?” Reyna gestured at the clearing, the rain, the river. Everything about this situation was off-book, and they all knew it.
The constable clenched her jaw, but laid Serina back down.
“Besides,” Reyna said cheerfully, mounting Visk in one swift motion. She patted his back pointedly, and Kianthe obeyed the unspoken command like she was a puppet tied to strings. Reyna continued speaking, “by my understanding, you take pride in your job. How will Diarn Arlon react when you arrive in Neolow alone, touting the very nuisance he sent the Arcandor to handle? A promotion may be in your future.”
The constable stared at the pirate, tied at her feet. “Y-Yeah. You’re right.” She didn’t sound convinced, but she did push to her feet, digging in her bag for a new hat. This one had two pompoms for some inexplicable reason, and it was bright orange. Absolutely not Kianthe’s color, but Bobbie handed it to her anyway. “You lost your other hat.”
“I—” Kianthe felt her head and yelped in horror, spinning around the clearing—but sure enough, her old red one with the cute pompom was gone. Her eyes landed on the river, barely visible through the trees, and she seethed. “You bastard.”
The river’s magic pulsed in response, a petulant response that basically insinuated it was Kianthe’s fault for being careless, not its fault for sweeping her precious hat away.
“Key, please don’t fight the Nacean.”
Reyna’s smooth voice startled her out of her budding argument. She petulantly tugged the orange one on her head instead. It wasn’t as cute, but it was still warm. Once Kianthe was done mourning her last one, it’d be fine, she supposed.
Reyna seemed amused, but she turned away resolutely. “Come along, sweetie,” she told Ponder, who was busy ripping the mushroom to shreds. Then she asked Kianthe, “That’s not poisonous, is it?”
The mage feigned insult. “Rain. Really . Do you think I’d let her play with anything poisonous?”
“I don’t know. You have a different level of concern for plants than most of us.”
“Well, I can verify that the mushroom isn’t too happy to have her attention.” Kianthe sniffed. “Pondie. Here, girl!”
The baby griffon chittered, abandoning her mess of mushroom to fly to them. She barely cast a glance at Serina and Bobbie before cruising out over the river. The rain was letting up, but the sun was beginning to set; it’d be dark soon.
Visk followed his daughter, and once they were out of earshot, Kianthe said, “So we’re just going to leave them alone tonight?”
“Bobbie is a capable young woman; I’m sure she can start a fire. Besides, Serina will be fine once she rests a bit.” Reyna craned over Visk’s back as they flew past Bobbie’s horse, who’d been tethered under a patch of trees and was happily grazing. Further upriver, Lilac was in the same situation, and Reyna sighed in relief upon seeing her horse.
Kianthe narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “That’s not why you left them alone.”
Reyna sniffed. “Diarn Arlon will toss Serina in jail to set an example of her. And that will make their Stars-crossed love story very difficult to pursue.”
“River-crossed love story,” Kianthe corrected.
Reyna rolled her eyes and went along with it. “Either way, I merely bought them time to work out their differences.”
“I think you’re reading too many romance novels.” Kianthe laughed, winding her arms around Reyna’s waist.
Reyna intertwined their fingers, leaning back against the mage. “And who do I have to thank for that?” A pause. “Perhaps we should introduce rope into our evenings on occasion.”
A thrill swept through Kianthe, and she struggled to keep her voice level, play it cool. “Ah, sure. Sure. Whatever you want, darling.”
Suddenly, Bobbie and Serina were pretty far from her mind.