22. Kianthe
Chapter twenty-two
Kianthe
K ianthe and Reyna had barely returned from their trip north when Diarn Feo arrived. And by the Stone and Stars above, they were angry .
“Kianthe!” they bellowed, leaping off Visk the moment he touched down in the town’s square. Nearby townsfolk stopped in their evening errands to stare, jaws open as this smartly-dressed Sheparan stomped to the Arcandor like they might slap her.
Kianthe promptly ducked behind Reyna, who was just about to lead their horses to the stables for some rest. Even the horses couldn’t hide the mage from their wrath. It was as futile as trying to avoid Ponder, who screeched in happiness and launched off Visk’s back to tackle Reyna with full force.
She squealed in delight. Apparently all her rigid training was abandoned after days apart. The horses forgotten, she pulled the baby griffon close and smoothed the feathers on her head and kissed her senseless. And to Ponder’s credit, she ate it up, nibbling Reyna’s clothes and ears and chittering away.
Visk, meanwhile, shot Kianthe a look that clearly expressed distaste for his passenger. Without waiting, he spread his wings and took off into the night, leaving Ponder with the two of them.
Leaving Feo with the two of them.
The diarn’s expression was stormy and a bit crazed.
Reyna glanced up long enough to see it, then hummed, “Someone’s in trouble,” and released Ponder to the sky. The baby griffon circled as she took the reins of the horses. Her tone switched to something cheery, amicable. “Diarn Feo. What a pleasant surprise. Kianthe has been waiting to speak to you. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I have to stable the horses before Ponder upsets them.”
Traitor.
“You’re not excused. You have to help me,” Kianthe hissed.
“I’m not married to you yet, love,” Reyna replied wryly, and led the horses away.
Feo was too close to avoid now. Their short hair was ruffled, windswept, and it looked like they hadn’t slept in days. When they spoke, they literally spat the words “You had your griffon kidnap me. I absolutely can’t believe I’m in Lathe right now.”
“Technically, a griffon can’t kidnap.”
“Don’t cite technicalities to me, Arcandor,” Feo snarled. “I’m the master of them. You could have written a note, given me a choice. Wylan probably thinks I’m dead. Or you two are dead. Or we’re all dead!” They tossed up their hands, pacing. “Bet I wouldn’t be cold in my theoretical grave before he’s taking over that town. Do you realize the predicament this puts me in? A diarn, abandoning their lands without any kind of warning? Are you insane?”
They were attracting a crowd. Already, people heard the word ‘diarn’ and began whispering. If rumors here spread half as fast as in Tawney, Diarn Arlon would know about Feo’s presence far sooner than Kianthe liked.
She twisted the wind with a hand, ensconcing them in privacy. Anything said now would swing right back to them rather than carrying to the ears of others. Feo stiffened at the magic, raising both eyebrows.
“Are we in danger?” They stared at the townsfolk like any one of them might produce a knife and a murderous attitude.
“Well, based on your reaction, I might be,” Kianthe said. “Are you going to kill me, or can we talk about this?”
Feo set their jaw, drawing slow breaths through their nose. For a long moment, there was silence. The townsfolk gave the two of them a good amount of distance, skirting into the tavern and other shops like they carried a plague. Finally, Feo spoke through gritted teeth. “I want a room, a bath, and a hot meal.”
“Listen, if you’re expecting me to accompany you for that bath, you have to know my fiancée won’t stand for that.”
She really might get murdered tonight. Feo physically raised their hands as if ready to strangle her.
Then, realizing there were witnesses, the diarn spun on their heel and stomped towards the inn. The door slammed so hard in their wake that snow actually fell off the roof, landing perilously close to a bystander.
“Sorry,” Kianthe called, swallowing her laughter. “They’re a bit touchy.”
The sun had set before Feo joined them at the tavern. Reyna had strategically secured a table in the back corner, one with enough privacy from the crowds that they could speak freely. It came with the bonus of hiding Ponder, who clearly didn’t want to leave Reyna’s side again. She curled up on Reyna’s lap, almost too big for it now, her lion’s tail curling possessively around Reyna’s thigh.
Kianthe scowled at the griffon.
“Oh, for the Gods’ sake, Key. You can share.” Reyna ran a finger between Ponder’s closed eyes, lightly petting the feathers above her beak.
“I can share. Doesn’t mean I want to.”
“This was your idea.” Reyna gestured at the creature on her lap. “Remember? I didn’t even want the egg.”
Kianthe sighed. “And I’ll forever lose this argument because of that.” A pause, a sly smile. “At least soon she’ll be too big to come inside.”
Across the table, Feo drained a glass of amber rum in one gulp. “Arcandor, why am I here ?”
They waved for a refill, and Reyna took a slow sip of her wine, her ash-brown eyes calculating. “I thought mages didn’t drink?”
“I’m not a mage. The Magicary made that quite clear when they exiled me.” Feo didn’t sound at all bitter about it. They held out their glass, and the server delivered another robust pour. Their eyes held Kianthe’s as they took a deep swig. “It’s a ridiculous rule for alchemists, regardless. I have no natural magic; any magic I conduct requires carefully researched spells.”
“Most alchemical mages refuse to drink out of solidarity to their elemental counterparts.” Kianthe crossed her arms, sulking in her chair.
“Excuse me if my viewpoint on ‘solidarity’ is currently lacking.” Feo’s voice was dry as bone.
Reyna tapped the table to regain their attention. On her lap, Ponder shifted with the movement, chittered quietly, and fell back asleep. A deep-throated purr slid from the griffon, fading in the noise of the tavern. “Let’s focus. Feo, I’m deeply sorry Visk kidnapped you, but we do require your expertise. And advice.”
At the mention of expertise, Feo straightened in their chair. If the diarn of Tawney loved one thing in particular, it was being an expert. A smug smile tilted their lips. “I knew it. Let me guess. You found the eggs, but they’re hidden behind an alchemical barrier.”
“Stone damn it all, I wish.” Kianthe heaved a sigh, gesturing at another table across the tavern. It was one of the livelier ones, with Serina currently challenging Pil to a drinking contest—and winning. Rankor and Squirrel were pounding the table in glee, cheering them on. Farley rolled her eyes, smiling into her drink. Darlene and Joe sat in the corner murmuring to each other; they’d point at various patrons, confer for several moments, and burst out laughing.
Bobbie wasn’t there, but that wasn’t a huge surprise. She’d only just started getting out of bed reliably, and her time awake was spent avoiding Serina—at least according to the quick update Darlene offered when they got her alone.
So clearly Serina and Bobbie’s chat went well.
Feo followed Kianthe’s gesture, squinting at the table. “Who are they?”
“Pirates.”
“Pirates—?” Feo cut themselves off, frowning. “There aren’t pirates on the Nacean River. At least, none I’ve ever heard of.”
“They’re the first.”
Feo chuckled, taking another swig of their drink. “Arlon must be shitting himself.”
Reyna stroked the fur along Ponder’s back, just between her wings. They fell open at her touch, stretching up over the table as Ponder waited for scratches. “Diarn Arlon attacked them seven days ago. He sent five ships to sink theirs. Cannons, constables… the works. We only barely made it out alive.”
“It was a declaration of war, Feo.” Kianthe didn’t pull punches, and her tone was deadly serious now.
Feo’s eyes widened.
And then a sly smile tilted their lips.
“War against his own citizens. You don’t say.”
Kianthe rested her chin in her palm, smirking alongside them. Much as Feo annoyed her, she always imagined this was what having a younger sibling would be like. Equal parts irritation and utter amusement at what they unleashed on the world.
And frankly, Arlon deserved what was coming next.
Already, Feo had tugged out a leatherbound journal from the pocket of their trousers. They flipped through it, tapped on a page of handwritten notes.
Kianthe raised an eyebrow. “Got a quill in there, too?”
The look they shot her could peel paint. But after a moment, they did, in fact, produce a quill and a tiny inkwell. It was like Reyna and her secret knives but far less interesting to watch.
“Take notes, Key,” Reyna said mildly. “Maybe this will help you meet your daily word count.”
Kianthe grumbled. “You are absolutely no fun. You know that?”
Feo was already scribbling, fast and furious. They muttered under their breath, scribbled, scratched out, and started fresh. After a moment, they tapped the paper resoundingly. “That’s it. This kind of thing happened over two centuries ago. A famine swept over Shepara, and a diarn began ordering their citizens to surrender shipments of grain. When the people fought back, the diarn responded with violence.”
“Sounds familiar,” Kianthe drawled.
Feo’s smirk grew wider. “I think most people forgot this even happened, but the Council instituted a law to prevent it in the future. If a diarn attacks his people outright, it’s cause for an immediate trial in Wellia. If he’s found guilty, Arlon will be stripped of his title.”
“Promising,” Reyna said.
“Hang on. We have to assume Arlon will fall back on a technicality. Before we present it to the Council, this needs to be ironclad.” Kianthe set her jaw. “That law might only apply if the diarn was physically present, but Arlon wasn’t there for the blockade battle. His constables fought us, not him.”
“Hmm.” A pause. More scribbling. Feo drained their glass, but didn’t raise a hand for another. “Is there a library here?”
“Stone damn it all, I wish.”
Reyna’s eyes shone with amusement. “You wish for a lot.”
Kianthe shrugged. “Sometimes I get it, too.” She glanced at Feo. “We could always break into Arlon’s library. He said it was under construction, which seems suspicious to me.”
“Darling, don’t blame paranoia on the fact that you just want access to the biggest library outside of Wellia.” Reyna finished her wine with a final sip.
“Actually, Wellia’s library would be the best option. Arlon is a Council member. If he gets wind that his position—either position—is being threatened, he’ll petition the Council and shift public opinion. Aside from you, Arcandor, your witnesses aren’t exactly reliable in a court of law.”
Now Feo jerked a thumb at the table of pirates in the corner. Pil had lost the drinking contest, which left Serina drunkenly swaying her way to the empty space, dancing like the fiddler was back on duty. Darlene had started singing, with Joe adding a deep baritone. The pirate captain raised her glass and laughed loudly, and a few of the patrons began to clap in time with the impromptu music.
“The faster I can move to pitch our case, the better.” Feo drained their own glass and set their jaw. “I’ll work on this tonight. Let me borrow your griffon, and we’ll overthrow Arlon by the winter solstice.”
“You were ready to move on this awfully fast,” Kianthe drawled, raising one eyebrow. “Almost like you’ve spent time planning this coup before today.”
Feo’s lips curled into a cunning smile. “I have a coup planned for everyone I dislike. You’ve only barely teetered into safe territory, Arcandor, and it’s only because your fiancée serves an excellent cup of tea.”
Reyna inclined her head graciously. “I appreciate that you are no longer plotting to murder my future wife.”
“Please, Reyna. As if you don’t have seven schemes to remove me from power if I were ever an inconvenience.” Feo scoffed.
The ex-Queensguard simply smiled. “I don’t ‘scheme.’ I plan.”
“Semantics.”
This was getting off-topic. Kianthe pinched the bridge of her nose. “Before you go rushing off to Wellia, Feo, you should know why Serina decided to become a pirate. The reality of life on the Nacean River is not as idyllic as it should be.”
They spent the rest of the evening discussing politics, with Feo taking careful notes as they relayed all they’d learned. Eventually, discussion shifted into the dragon eggs, and it coincided exactly with them finishing a robust dinner. The tavern was getting loud, and Kianthe wasted no time saying, “Are you up for an excursion before bed?”
“I’m in Lathe instead of Tawney tonight, so apparently so.” Feo didn’t sound as bitter about it after a night of drinking and political upheaval.
“Bring your coat; it’s a bit of a hike.” Reyna lifted a sleepy Ponder to her shoulder, where the griffon balanced like a cat on a branch. They waved to Serina on the way out. The pirate’s crew was in various stages of “sleepy enough to vacate for the evening” and “just getting the party started.” Serina stumbled after them, catching Kianthe as she slipped on her winter cloak.
“Where’re you going?” she was slurring her words a bit, eyes glassy.
Definitely drunk.
Kianthe smirked. “Your ship. We won’t be long.”
“My ship?” It sounded like mysship . “I’ll come too!”
Reyna, just about to step out the door, noticed Serina’s physical state and smoothly stepped in. “Captain, with all respect, we’re just checking on it. It’s a hike. But… you spoke with Bobbie, didn’t you? How did that go?”
A distraction.
Serina blinked heavily, her expression souring. At the door, Feo scowled impatiently, but now Kianthe was too invested to interrupt the conversation. The pirate huffed. “She’s so confusing . Why are the pretty ones always twisting my mind in circles?”
“Got me,” Kianthe said.
Reyna rolled her eyes. “So, you two didn’t make up? I thought Bobbie might like to accompany us when we sail again.”
“She’s staying here.” Serina crossed her arms, her chin jutting out. “I told her to come with us. She told me to stop stealing. I’m a pirate. Who the fuck—” A pause, like she lost her train of thought. “Who’s she to tell me what to do? To the five hells with her!”
“Kianthe, if we don’t leave soon, I’m retiring for the night.” Feo’s cold voice carried over the tavern’s din.
Serina craned around them, narrowing her eyes at Feo. “Who’ssat?”
“A friend,” Reyna said, sounding disappointed. “Drink some water before you go to bed, all right, Serina?”
The pirate captain waved a hand in dismissal and staggered back to her friends. But when Farley poured her a robust glass of water, she did take a deep swig. Kianthe followed her fiancée and Feo outside, and in the sudden quiet, Kianthe drawled, “Well, that’s it. I officially give up. Those two aren’t meant for each other.”
“I do agree we’ve reached the end of our meddling,” Reyna replied with a heavy sigh. “I suppose we’ll have to return to matchmaking someone closer to home.”
Now her eyes roamed Feo, who had a notorious crush on their Queendom counterpart, Lord Wylan. Feo seemed to realize what she was implying, and they set their jaw. “We’re friends .”
“Three seasons ago, you weren’t even that. My plots span years, Diarn Feo.”
Kianthe swallowed a laugh. “No wonder you two get along so well.”
Feo grumbled something and plowed ahead.
They hiked the short distance back to the ship, which was still hidden in the cove north of town. Feo scanned its new name, clearly painted in Reyna’s cursive handwriting, and glanced at them suspiciously.
“Diarn Arlon had one of these ships commissioned years ago.”
“What a coincidence,” Kianthe drawled, and pulled a sheet of ice up to the edge of the ship. The makeshift ladder she’d carved into the wooden side was still there, and they climbed in one-by-one. “You weren’t wrong about the alchemical spell, though. Arlon really doesn’t want us snooping in his private records… and we really don’t care what he wants anymore.”
Feo followed them into the captain’s quarters, looking vaguely pleased. “I never cared what that pompous asshole wanted.” They gravitated immediately towards the roll top desk, pressing a hand on the drawer in question without any prompting.
Kianthe truly didn’t understand alchemical magic the way she probably should; it just seemed unnatural, like reciting a script without any feel for the emotion behind it. But she wasn’t going to argue as they settled into countering the seal.
At least Reyna wouldn’t get hurt this time.
Luckily, Reyna was only half paying attention. Ponder was soaring around the ship, rifling through the lines, clawing up the masts with her tiny wings outspread for balance. She was every bit the menace Kianthe expected when they brought her here, and Reyna was not pleased.
“Ponder. Ponder . No! Form up.”
It was comical how little that feathery child cared about Reyna’s orders.
After several moments, Reyna finally waved a strip of jerky where Ponder could see it. The griffon squawked, dropped like a brick to the deck, and folded her wings in the perfect image of a mini-mount.
Kianthe had to give her fiancée credit; that was pretty handy.
“I need a bit of blood to make this work. It can’t be mine.” Feo glanced at Kianthe, who was lingering in the doorway. “Probably shouldn’t be yours, either. Not sure how your precious Stone will react to that.”
“Probably the same way it reacts to being called upon with sarcasm,” Kianthe drawled.
Feo rolled their eyes. “Get Reyna, if you please.”
Kianthe hated this. She almost told them to fuck off, that her fiancée’s blood wasn’t a commodity to be traded for services, but Reyna had overheard and clearly felt this was more important than reigning Ponder in.
“Here,” she slipped past Kianthe and tugged a knife from… somewhere in the folds of her shirt. Under the armpit, maybe? Impossible to tell, for how fast she retrieved it. Even more concerning was how fast she sliced the meat of her forearm, near the elbow—and how little she flinched at the blood that welled from the wound.
“Rain.” Kianthe inhaled sharply. “Wouldn’t a small cut on the palm be enough?”
“Why ever would I injure my palm? I’m a swordsman.” Reyna shook her head and stepped closer to Feo as blood beaded along the cut on her arm, dripping down her elbow.
Feo was unperturbed. “Excellent. Right here, please.” They guided her bleeding arm to a sigil they’d etched along the top of the desk. The moment the blood made contact, it glowed a sickening red, so different from the gorgeous yellow of her magic, or even the deep, respectable blue of dragon magic.
Kianthe set her jaw, but Reyna was already retrieving one of the bandages Bobbie never needed, wrapping her arm resolutely. Meanwhile, Feo popped open the hidden drawer.
Inside was a single folder, leather embossed in gold, brimming with parchment.
Feo flashed it. “Success.”
“Let’s see what Diarn Arlon was so intent on hiding.” Reyna smirked.