Chapter 40
Forty
Ivy
I’ve never thought of myself as sheltered, but I had no idea rivers so much wider than the Starsil that passes through Florian existed. Although I guess the Seafell Channel is called a channel rather than a river because it’s on an entirely different level.
Generally, I’d be glad there’s so much water between us and the eastern half of the continent, where the Darium empire still rules. Tonight, I wouldn’t mind our enemies lurking just a little closer at hand.
I dip the paddles carefully into the darkened water so they won’t make more sound than the warbling wind that tugs at my cloak’s hood. On the opposite bank ahead of me, the few scattered lights there look so tiny they could almost be stars.
At this distance, I can’t make out any structures in the thickening dusk. Only the thin crescent of the rising moon keeps me heading in the direction Stavros indicated.
To my left and right, there’s no light at all. The channel just stretches endlessly away.
Is this anything close to what it feels like being on the ocean? I’ve never experienced that supposedly vast body of water either, only seen it in paintings and tapestries.
I peer toward my destination again and restrain a grimace. Stavros said it could take more than an hour to cross while I’m trading some speed for stealth. I’ve only covered maybe a quarter of the distance so far.
At least we don’t have to worry about anyone seeing you for a while yet, Julita remarks as if picking up on my impatience. I don’t imagine the channel hosts many pleasure cruises with the current state of political affairs.
I let out a soft snort. “I just hope the Darium sentries find it plausible that a local fisherwoman might be out plying her trade.”
I suppose people always have to make a living, regardless of who’s trying to invade who. She sighs. As bizarre as this plan might be, Ivy, I truly believe you’re going to pull it off. It all fits together. Let our enemies destroy each other—brilliant, really.
“As long as it works.” I dig the paddles into the rippling water again, keeping my voice low just in case.
“I don’t know if stopping the march will be the end of the uprising, though.
They did leave some people back in Eppun.
We still don’t know who’s at the top of the Order of the Wild, giving the orders. ”
I get the impression of a shrug. It’ll eliminate a significant portion of their might, including the people most willing to fight. And we can hope that those who were duped into joining under false pretenses will flee and spread the word that the Order means death rather than freedom.
“That would be nice. And there have been people standing up to them already. Emor and Voleska might have made more progress.”
We’re heading in the right direction, both literally and metaphorically. That’s what matters most. Julita pauses. And if Borys finally meets his end by Darium hands, I won’t be the least bit sorry about it. Good riddance.
She’s putting on that nonchalant tone she does when she’s trying to pretend she isn’t affected. A pang of sympathy forms in my gut. “He’ll get what he deserves, one way or another. If the Darium soldiers don’t finish him, the king isn’t going to forgive one of the uprising’s main figures.”
I’d just like to know it’s taken care of. Who can say how much longer I’ll keep clinging to what’s left of my life to be able to see it?
My hands hesitate for a second before I stroke the oars through the water again. “Have you felt as if staying is getting harder?” I haven’t noticed any change in her presence in my head.
I’m not sure. It seems like something that would happen so gradually I wouldn’t perceive the difference.
But I clearly can’t haunt you forever, Ivy.
I’m starting to think it might be nice to let go and meet my godlen.
Once I know the worst of this catastrophe is dealt with and that you’ll be all right, that is.
The pang rises to the base of my throat. “I meant what I said before, you know. About how we could travel around after there’s peace again, see and do things you missed out on.”
I sense a smile in Julita’s voice. Oh, I appreciate that. And perhaps I’ll change my mind when the conflict is over.
I hesitate, thinking of Rheave’s bright eyes. Of the life that animates the body he wasn’t born with.
“You know… There might be a way you could get more of a life back without needing to keep haunting me. If it’s possible to put a daimon in a clay body and bring it—”
No! Julita’s shudder resonates through my skull. Her horror rings through her refusal. What happened to Rheave—that was already done. I want no part in any of the ways the scourge sorcerers are twisting life with their horrible power.
After her past experiences with scourge sorcery, maybe I should have expected that answer.
I wince inwardly. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I know. I know you meant well. Julita sighs, but it’s a serene sound rather than fraught.
If it sets your conscience at ease, you should know that lately I’ve been feeling that what I’ve gotten already is enough.
My life might not have gone quite the way I expected, but I accomplished important things before and after my death.
Possibly more than I would have if I’d stayed alive.
I’m genuinely happy with how things turned out.
She sounds as if she means it. Any words I could have said in response stick in my throat.
How can she be happy with her existence cut so short, with only getting to act through me for the past few months? She had even less time than I’ve lived, and I’d still give anything to go back to the childhood dreams I had before my riven power awoke and—
The thought stalls in my head.
Would I, though? Would I rather have been helping Da run the print shop right now, never having met Casimir or Alek or Stavros or Rheave?
Never even knowing the scourge sorcerer conspiracy was happening other than hearing of the uprising—until what? The Order of the Wild swept across the country and slaughtered every noble who stood against them, including the royal family?
If I wasn’t what I am, King Konram might very well have died the day the captured daimon stormed the palace in Florian.
I wouldn’t have spent all those years on the streets or all these weeks on the run, but I also wouldn’t have gotten to experience the incredible love that glows in my chest, sustaining my strength through every hardship I’ve faced.
I can’t imagine giving it all up for a simpler life. And could I really gamble the security of the entire realm to recover my sister’s life?
What kind of life would either of us have had once the Order of the Wild took over?
It’s possible I’m exactly where I need to be.
For the first time, I can’t say I regret the journey here.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” I say finally. “You should be happy.”
And you should too. Julita stirs in the back of my skull.
The only other thing I worry about is Nikodi.
Once Borys is gone, there’ll be no one left to inherit the county.
If I’m not around by the time that matter comes up, I’d appreciate it if you’d make sure the next count or countess is a good one.
As last requests go, it’s a reasonable one. But it makes me choke up a little thinking of the entreaty that way.
“I’ll do my best,” I say. “Maybe you should stick around at least that long, to make sure we choose well.”
Julita gives a light laugh. We’ll have to see what the gods have in store for us next, won’t we?
“I guess we will.” I glance up toward the sky as if I might catch a glimpse of a crow or some other sign that Kosmel is still watching over me, but all I see is indigo darkening to black with a scattering of stars.
The lights on the shore are gradually getting larger. Julita and I lapse into silence as I pull closer to the opposite side.
The actual country of Dariu lies much farther to the east, but the realm of Cotea lies within their empire, under their control, so it amounts to the same thing. It’ll be Darium soldiers monitoring the channel.
Which is exactly what I want.
As I draw closer, I make out the tall, blocky walls of the Darium fort that’s my final destination. Rather than heading straight toward it. I veer around in an arc until I’m gliding closer to shore on a subtle diagonal. To anyone watching, my approach might not even be intentional.
All the same, my magic wriggles between my ribs, tugging at me to let it loose like I have so often in recent days. It could conceal me completely, ensure no one sees me at all.
I ignore its nagging and the pang of hopes lost. For a little while, I thought the cost of my power wasn’t so high after all. I thought I could be riven and sane and help the realms with my magic.
But that’s proven to be a lie. The price I’d be paying is simply different.
I’m several minutes distant from the fort and some twenty paces from the shoreline when a voice hollers over to me in the Darium tongue. “Hey there, woman in the boat! What’s your business here?”
My magic flares with a sharper wrenching, but it’s exactly the sort of question I practiced answering with Stavros. I clamp down on my power with the rigid hold I perfected during my days on the streets of Florian’s outer wards and the imagery of ivy winding around my chest.
As my heart thumps faster, I pull the foreign words to my lips, reminding myself of the specific inflexion I need to sound reasonably native. “Doing some night fishing. The silverbreem fetch a good price. Is it a problem?”
I’ve stopped rowing so the patrolling soldier can study me. All he’ll see is a young woman in a simple dress, alone.
I’ve propped the fishing rod against the side of the boat within view to help sell my story, and I have the old net I can claim I haven’t finished mending near my feet too.
But the soldier must decide I don’t look like I could be a threat to any of his colleagues. He waves me on without even bothering to speak.
As I dip the oars back into the water, Julita chuckles. Nicely done. They don’t have the slightest idea how much destruction you could actually deal out.
My stomach twists. They don’t, and I don’t know how much I could cause before I’d destroy my sanity as well.
I’d prefer to keep it that way.
Stealth and subterfuge are my specialties. If there’s anything I should be able to do without relying on supernatural gifts, this is it.
Most of the shoreline here is pebbled beach or sharply sloping stones, but a few minutes farther along, I spot a clump of reeds that reach nearly to the trees beyond the water. A careful glance over my shoulder confirms that the soldier who called to me is no longer visible in the darkness.
I push my craft between the reeds. They hiss against the wooden sides.
The nose of the boat nudges up against the rocky bank hidden by the plants.
After testing several of the reeds, I find one I trust enough to tie the boat to it. Then I ease out onto the rocks.
The fort’s few lanterns shine off to my left, too far away to illuminate my crouched form. I dart from the reeds into the even thicker darkness between the trees.
The looming oaks and maples aren’t growing densely enough to really be considered a forest. Only a few shrubs have sprouted between them. It feels more like the lightly treed area of a park. But they provide enough cover for me to sneak closer to the fort.
For the last short stretch, I have to dash from tree to tree with gaps of several paces in between. The last of them still leaves me a good sprint from the fortress’s stone walls.
But not far enough to be beyond the reach of my throwing arm.
I slip my hand through the slit in my dress’s skirt to palm the smallest of the knives in my possession. Then I retrieve the other letter my men and I composed together from my pocket.
A dark symbol marks the outer fold—a sigil drawn in blood while swearing to the gods that everything written on the page is true. If the fort has at least a devout on staff, they’ll be able to confirm it’s valid.
I wish I could confirm my loyalty to the kingdom by the same process, but the sigil’s confirmation only works if invoked completely freely rather than under duress. Honesty prompted by a fear of impending punishment isn’t pure enough.
With Casimir’s help, we ensured every word in the letter is true, though we intend the recipients to draw different conclusions about our meaning.
Starting from our introduction as the ones the king sees as traitors to our assurance that most of the royal troops are stationed elsewhere, and we’ll ensure the nearby squadron is trapped and unable to attack when you arrive and on to our conclusion that we believe that working together is our best chance at putting Silana on the right course, the letter has been crafted to fit our situation while sounding like it should mean it’s from the members of the uprising.
Gods above and below, please let this missive be enough to convince them. Let the supposed offer of an alliance with King Konram’s enemies tempt the soldiers stationed here to make the crossing.
And let my crazy plan get us closer to truly freeing our country rather than amplifying the disaster.
I wrap the letter tightly around the hilt of the knife and secure it with a few bits of warmed wax. Tuning out my power’s renewed urging to bring it to bear, I study the terrain between me and the fort’s door.
There’s a certain trick I picked up from a prankster in Crow’s Close who was happy to teach me a thing or two in exchange for stealing a trinket she coveted.
If you flick your arm in a specific way with the right twist of your wrist, you can fling an object in an arc rather than a straight line, just like the trajectory I took my boat on.
I brace myself, wind up, and throw with all my strength.
My pulse thunders in my ears as the knife whips through the air. It swings around, and a brief gust of breeze brushes my face.
But even as my nerves hitch with panic, the blade flies true.
It thuds into the wood of the door just a tad off-center, gleaming in the lantern-light from above.
Julita lets out a victorious cheer. A surge of mingled exhilaration and fear rushes through my veins.
I did it. I’m really doing this, despite all the shit and smitings it might bring down on our heads.
As the first shout rises up within the fort, I bolt toward the shoreline. It’ll take the soldiers a moment to scan for threats closer to the door and then to open it to retrieve the knife.
By the time any of them set foot outside to investigate further, I’ll be long gone… until I see them again armed and armored, storming the bank on my side of the channel.