Chapter Forty
Truman announces that we will be on the shores of Attanae within the hour, and that we should all be prepared to face an ambush, for by the time we reach the land, they will have spotted the ship headed their way.
Lillienne helps me into my dress, one I haven’t yet worn, and secretly enjoy considering the circumstances. It is not as lavish, nor as ridiculous as the one I wore to my initiation ceremony.
But it is subtle in its opulence, a deep and captivating sapphire, with silver decals across the neck and waistline, like ivy clinging to me all over.
It is simple enough in its elegance that I feel at once like myself, and the Princess of Reyhen.
For the first time, I truly feel like both identities are one.
‘Now what am I doing with this?’ Lillienne holds a fistful of my hair in her hand and inspects it.
‘It should be in a style, maybe in that updo you learned when we visited your cousins in Terlan. My hair has enough wave in it right now to maybe have some loose strands by my face here.’ I pull them down, to demonstrate, awaiting her verdict.
She tuts, holding her chin in her fingertips, thinking for a moment. ‘No… oh! I know exactly what to do. Never fear my friend, you will look like a goddess on earth when I’m done with you.’
‘I think you overestimate your tale— hey!’ She flicks my ear, reprimanding me, before getting to work.
I blow stray pieces of hair from my face every time she throws them there. I sit there, on the bed, for what feels like an age, until she exclaims she is done.
With no mirror in sight, I have to rely on feel alone to infer whether or not it’s to my liking.
There are at least four braids, sweeping across the back of my head, interwoven, the rest of my hair, left down, the lengths cascading down my back freely.
Two perfect waves fall over my cheeks, the only request of mine she saw fit to be filled.
‘This is not an updo.’
Lillienne grabs me by the shoulders. ‘It is much better, believe me. Now, what is my reward? Perhaps you could steal me a piece of jewellery like you did yourself.’ She eyes up my mother’s pendant, and I grasp at it, on the defensive all of a sudden.
‘You may have your pick of any of the dresses in that trunk.’ I tilt my head in the direction of the luggage.
‘Done. I will be wearing the shit out of that emerald number you’ve always refused to let me wear.’
‘Wait no, I forgot that was in there.’ I try to grab her before she gets there, but I miss completely.
‘Blame your new boyfriend for bringing it here.’
‘He’s not my – I mean – I don’t know what he is, but it is not that.’
Lillienne throws my favourite dress over her shoulder. ‘No need to get so flustered, it was but a harmless jest, milady.’
‘Shut up and get dressed, I’ll braid your hair for you.’
Lillienne purses her lips, doing what I know to be her impression of a stuck-up noblewoman.
‘I should like my hair in an updo, darling. The tallest one has ever seen. When it hits the ceiling, be sure that it is not high enough. I strive for the clouds!’ She points her finger upwards with dramatic exaggeration, and I take the opportunity to throw a pillow at her head. She dodges it with a swift side-step.
‘It would seem milady has misplaced her good humour. What tragedy!’
She brings the back of her hand up to her face as though she is at risk of fainting.
I laugh and throw the second pillow at her.
All we can do, as the ship nears the shore, is stand out on the bow and stare.
The beach that lines the land is a slim lining of sand, with harsh rocks jutting out as the dunes meet the grass.
Dunes aside, it can be inferred that Attanae is a flat land.
No mountains, or hills as far as the eye can see. It is all so – green.
The grass merges with trees, tall pines that come to sharp, decisive points in the orange sky.
Nothing like the charred and barren land I was taught it was.
The land of death and struggle I had thought about often when enjoying the life and greenery of Reyhen, guilty that I had the luxury of nature.
It will be dark soon. We can only hope there is no one ready to leap into action as soon as the ship hits sand. We have no protection. No Relic power, no weapons or shields. Nothing to fight back or defend, other than our words.
Eliaz’s shoulder bumps into mine, but he keeps his eyes locked ahead. ‘You’re wearing blue.’
I suck my lips into my mouth so as not to smile at his disappointment, how blatant it is.
‘You’re a very observant man, I must commend it to you. Nothing gets past you.’
He scoffs. ‘You’re a stubborn creature.’
‘So I’ve heard. I’ve recently found there to be some liberation in not doing what one is told.’ I raise my chin, and roll my eyes to him, keeping my head forward. He is grinning like he’s gotten exactly what he wanted.
‘May the gods help us all.’
I raise a brow. ‘Since when do you plea to the gods?’
‘Since I got desperate enough to believe it’ll make a difference.’
I turn to look at him properly, and he happens to do the same. We meet in the middle of two attempts at a stolen glance.
‘And has it made any difference at all?’
The back of his hand brushes mine. Tentative, desirous, restrained. ‘I am yet to find that out.’
We let the words sit in the air, the uncertainty building with the waves that roll towards the shore. The salty spray of the sea battling hard against the freshness of the wind as it tears through us. Tugging at our hair, our clothes, our spirits.
Lillienne is subdued for once, her head leaning on Diarmid’s shoulder, as he takes in the sight of the incoming land, appearing serene if not for the crushing of his hat to his chest.
Calli’s head is lowered, as though quietly considering what is to come, her auburn locks lashing against her cheeks. Cole’s chin is raised high, his chest puffed as though he is ready to take on anything we’re about to face, his fists clenched by his side, prepped to fight.
Six of us. Three women. Three men. And a million hopes for the future. Staring down what might be our biggest saviour, or our strongest threat.
The crew shout orders, and spring into action at Truman’s behest. They are to anchor here, ready the passenger boats for release, to load up those evacuating the ship.
The six of us must row ourselves ashore, small, and vulnerable in the open waters, with no vast ship to cower behind.
No easy way of turning back. It is all a blur of shouts, of pushes to my back.
Everything must happen and happen now with no delay, because every second spent hesitating is a second we might be spotted.
I end up on a boat with Lillienne and Diarmid, and we row as best as we can with the lack of experience, no talking, not even to voice our complaints when a rogue wave sends a lashing of icy water over our feet.
The other three are much more efficient, using the ores with perfect syncopation, making quick, substantial advancements.
Although it takes the best part of twenty minutes before we hit sand, there is no one there on the beach, no one waiting to anticipate our capture.
The thin stretch of stony sand is empty, a disconcerting sight when you expect an army of men, armed to the teeth with various weapons, swords, bows – rocks even.
We exchange looks of disbelief as we step free from our boats, Eliaz surveys the land with a scepticism. Lillienne breathes a nervous laugh, perhaps indulging in the thought, as I do, that we have worried for nothing.
Perhaps the others feel it too, but the hope alone that we were wrong, is not enough for us to feel relief. None of us are willing to even whisper of our luck.
We stand as we did on the ship, in a line, staring as we did, to the line of trees. Scanning for threat.
And then Diarmid goes stiff by my side, and drops his hat into the sand, his mouth open in pure incredulity, as though he believes his eyes to be tricking him – but fearing what he sees, nonetheless.
We all look to him, and then to the trees, frantically trying to find what he did. Lillienne sees it next, Cole soon after, Calli and Eliaz gasp in complete unison, and then lastly, I set my eyes on whatever it is that they see.
At first, it is just a detected movement in the tall grass at the base of the trees, then a stripe of something, fur, orange-coloured – no black – no both.
A low, rumbling growl accompanied by the baring of sharp, browned teeth.
Red gums. Thick padded paws that I suspect would give way to claws should we anger the beast. The thing that the fur, the teeth, the claws belong to.
It is a meaty creature, bigger than any living thing I have ever seen, its legs like the trunks of a tree, its body the width of three barrels combined.
It flicks one of its three striped tails as it prowls from the trees, beady eyes homing in on us.
The other two are perked upwards, like question marks, showcasing the beast’s curiosity.
‘A tiger,’ Eliaz whispers, his voice clipped with uncertainty.
‘Not quite,’ Cole shakes his head slowly.
‘A granphid,’ Diarmid confirms before Cole has a chance. ‘They are much larger, and much more…’ He swallows down a bout of sickness before continuing. ‘...vicious.’
‘We are going to die,’ Lillienne says, assuredly, as though there is no other option for us.
The granphid slows its pace, eyeing us up one by one, a giant paw lifted, deliberating its next step.
Its ears swivel, listening to the rustling in the grass behind.
Another head appears, and then another. Two more granphids stalking, emerging from the trees as though in a choreographed movement, legs mirroring the others with each advancement.
Right and left, left and right, right and left.
Eliaz takes a step forward, arms outstretched in a silent warning to us not to move, his attention fixed on the creatures. ‘C-careful,’ Diarmid warms him in a hushed tone. ‘Their saliva is pure venom. One drop could kill you.’
Eliaz continues forward, his steps careful and sure. ‘I am not worried.’
Whether he is or not, I most definitely am. Every movement feels like it could trigger an attack from the ginormous beasts, and I can barely watch for fear of it. Those claws, those teeth – there’s hardly any need for the venom.
Diarmid screams, and the granphids halt in their tracks. The stable manager clutches at his head, his ear, shouting out in agony.
‘Diarmid!’ Lillienne lunges for him, the presence of the creatures gone from her mind. She grabs at his arm, trying to turn him so she can see where he holds his head.
‘What happened? Diarmid, what happened to your head? Do they shoot venom too?’
His trembling hand parts with his ear, and comes away, red. Blood red. Lillienne claps her hand to her mouth when she sees. Calli takes a step back, bumping into Cole, who stands as solid as a wall. Diarmid’s face is soaked with tears, and sudden sweat.
‘An arrow,’ he says weakly, shock jolting at his vocal cords, cracking into his words.
‘Did he say an arrow?’ I ask out of blatant disbelief. ‘Are there people out there with those beasts?’
The whirring in the air confirms it for me. Arrows fly from the trees, their heads piercing the sand sporadically.
I have to throw myself left to avoid one burying itself in my leg. My heart races, my breath frantic, tears spilling free from my eyes as I try and make sense of what just happened, what is happening still.
More arrows, some falling short, some splashing into the sea behind us. Someone calls something from the trees, their garbled voices carrying on the wind and finding my ears with no recognisable words. Then a horn sounds.
The granphids crane their necks to the alert, looking to one another before roaring something awful, and leaping into a run, heading directly for us.
For Eliaz. Everything stills for one single second, or at least that’s all the time I have to consider the scene as it plays out. Three beasts bounding towards the Umbrian king, snarling, venomous spittle foaming on their mouths.
The bleeding stable manager, and the shrill cries of the lady’s maid.
The Princess of Umbra as she clutches her brother’s best friend, relying on either him or her sibling for sight.
And me, the Princess of Reyhen, and the arrow that heads directly for her skull. Terror, panic, sadness. Three things that the scene ignites within me.
Sadness that our gamble has not paid off, that we put too much trust in people who do not know us.
Panic with how quickly the events have declined, giving not much time for thinking of ways out of it.
Terror, because this might be it, the moment it all ends, an amalgamation of lies, poor decision-making and pure, beautiful conviction.
We have to at least try.
And we have. I had foolishly hoped we would have gotten a little further.
Oh gods, this might end us all in one way or another. I cry a single tear, desperate for it to be over, this eternal moment.
I want my father, my mother, Ori, just as much as I don’t want them, for leaving me all in their own ways, to deal with this on my own. It all bubbles upwards in me, like hot sick, a fever of terrified thoughts made manifest on my skin. This is it.
I scream, and clench my eyes shut, a helpless arm thrown upwards to shield my face from the pointed metal. Lillienne weeps. Diarmid whimpers. Coles exhales. Calli gasps. Eliaz is silent.
The granphids give one ultimate roar before—