Chapter 43
343
Chapter 43
Oriane woke to the sound of gulls in her ears, and the sight of them wheeling above her head. They’d made it to Azura.
She sat bolt upright as the rush of noise and colour flooded in. Awestruck, she took in the sights of the city: the teeming streets, the market stalls, the coloured flags that flickered in the sea breeze. And, of course, the sea itself – visible only in glimpses through the buildings, but there all the same. It was the first time she’d ever seen the ocean. It triggered a strange ache in her chest, some feeling of longing that she could not name.
‘We’re meeting another trader at the square,’ Albert called back to them. ‘We can drop you off, then you’re on your own.’
‘Thank you,’ King Tomas called back. Then he leaned forward, lowering his voice. ‘We need to be on alert. It isn’t safe here.’
Andala, whose eyes had been closed too, seemed suddenly wide awake. ‘What is it?’
‘I’ve been watching. Listening. Terault’s search must have spanned farther than we thought. Some of his people are already here. The rest are sure to be close on our tail.’
‘But how?’ Oriane asked, fear rising in her chest like a wave. ‘How would they know where we’ve gone?’ 344
‘There are … many of them.’ Tomas looked pained, as if the words were barbs that pierced his throat as he spoke. ‘He has more followers at his disposal than I could have imagined.’
Silence fell for a moment, the tumultuous music of the port city sweeping in to fill it. Oriane’s fists were clenched tight at her sides.
The king seemed to steel himself, his pained expression morphing into one of cool focus. ‘You must stay out of sight,’ he instructed Oriane and Andala. ‘When we stop up ahead, go and wait outside the city – just follow the road out of the square until you get to the woods. Kitt and I will meet you there once we’ve found some horses, and some news.’
Oriane and Andala exchanged a glance. Kitt nodded grimly at them both as the wagon drew to a stop in a busy square filled with other traders.
Tomas had already turned towards the merchant and addressed him brightly. ‘Now, you know who I am, don’t you, my good man?’
Albert threw a look back their way. Oriane saw him swallow nervously before he answered. ‘I-I do, milord.’
‘Excellent,’ Tomas said. ‘I’m going to need you to keep that information to yourself. But I’m also going to need you to get some information for me .’
Oriane and Andala left the king and Kitt with the merchant, who was listening intently to whatever instruction Tomas was giving him. Quietly, they slipped away, heads down and eyes on the ground.
There was another square beyond the one they’d arrived in, a larger one filled with stalls – and people. More than Oriane had ever seen in one place; more even than the bustling streets of Aubrille. She and Andala were immediately swept away in the tide of the crowd.
At first, she marvelled at it. The press of all those different people, the sound of life swelling around her. But all at once, without 345 warning, it became too much. Too many people. Too much noise. Danger, everywhere. Her skin felt clammy despite the sun. She couldn’t breathe—
‘It’s all right,’ Andala muttered at her side. ‘We just need to make it through to the other side. Blend in. Stay close. Take my hand.’
Oriane did. The contact sent a tiny measure of calm through her, a bolt of warmth that tracked all the way to her chest.
‘Do you think they’ll be all right?’ she murmured as they inched forward. From the corner of her eye, she saw Andala nod.
‘Tomas seems to know what he’s doing. They’ll need to be careful, though. If Terault’s people are moving as fast as he thinks they are …’
She didn’t need to finish her sentence. If Terault’s people found them now, it would all have been for nothing.
Just a little further now. Oriane could see the edge of the square ahead, and beyond it the road that led towards the woods. It was not empty, as she’d hoped. There were people going to-and-fro, people in such a range of appearances and dress that she almost forgot there was no time to stop and look – no time to take in the world she’d set out to see all that time ago. Not anymore.
‘Oriane,’ Andala murmured.
‘I’m here,’ she whispered back.
They made it to the road. They increased their pace as the woods came into view, and soon they were safe in the shelter of the trees, and alone.
They stopped by the trunk of a huge old oak. After a moment, Andala seemed to remember she was still holding Oriane’s hand. She let it go. Her shell-pale cheeks bore a slight flush. Oriane’s own face felt warm too, her heartbeat unsteady.
It slowed as the sounds of the woods enveloped them. The chorus was familiar to Oriane’s ears, but with subtle variances; the same 346 song, played with slightly different instruments. It calmed her a little, soothed her fear and overwhelm and whatever else was making her blood surge faster.
Quietly, side by side, she and Andala settled in to wait.
An hour later, the sound of footsteps approaching sent fear sparking through Oriane, but the sight of Kitt emerging from the trees sent a wave of relief from the crown of her head to her feet.
‘We’re all right,’ was the first thing he said. ‘For now.’
Behind Kitt, though, Tomas looked agitated. ‘From what we heard, Terault’s scouting parties may have already reached Fenbrook and learned where we went next.’
‘No one there will tell them,’ Andala said quietly, but Oriane heard a note of doubt in her voice.
‘What do we do?’ she asked.
‘We go. Fast as we can,’ Tomas said sharply. ‘We left the horse and pony just off the road up ahead.’
‘Pony?’ Oriane asked tentatively.
Kitt nodded. He looked more restless than she’d ever seen him as he raked a hand through his hair. ‘We could only get one horse. You two can take it, and Tomas can take the pony beside you. I’ll find a way to follow after—’
But Andala was shaking her head. ‘We’re not separating. Not now.’
‘I can fly,’ Oriane spoke up. Finally – something useful she could do, some way she could actually help. ‘I’ll transform and fly alongside you.’
‘Only if you’re sure, Oriane,’ Tomas said. His tone seemed gentle, genuine. It hurt her to hear it when she still wanted to hate him. 347
‘It’s a good idea,’ Kitt conceded. ‘Probably better that way, to be honest. We’ll stand out less, likely make it there faster …’
She closed her eyes and changed, quick as she could. The warmth spread through her so much more easily now, after having spent so much time in lark form of her own accord.
You can do this too , she thought, trying to send the message out to Andala as she looped in a circle around their heads. We can do this together.
We must do this together .
Andala watched her fly, an inscrutable look in her eye.
The road grew quieter the further they followed it. Kitt and Andala rode the horse, Tomas trotting on the pony beside them, and Oriane flew. For a while, she almost felt at peace. The rhythm of hooves on the road, the choir of creature-song from the woods – it formed a soothing shield of sound in her head as she swooped along beside them, out of sight within the trees. It helped to block out the sharp, truthful voice that whispered doubts and accusations to her in a steady stream, like a rustling wind. It almost helped her set aside her grief.
They travelled through the rest of the day, stopping only once. Oriane changed back briefly to join the others as they ate and refreshed themselves. Then she took to the air again, Kitt, Andala and the king to the road. It was a gruelling pace to keep, but they had no other choice – not now they knew Terault was out there somewhere; that his poisonous words might have found the ear of every citizen, that his blue-robed scouts might lurk around every corner. Oriane kept watch to make sure they were alone, rising as 348 high as she dared above the canopy to look behind them, and ahead. The first time she had flown upwards, though, she’d had eyes only for the sea.
It was another thing she had only ever seen in books and paintings. To lay eyes on it now, stretched out in front of her like a sheet of sapphire silk, unravelling further than she could see – it had almost brought her crashing down through the trees.
She would be right above it soon, flying over it. Out beyond that horizon, to the new place she’d call home.
As the sun steadily fell, Oriane flew high again to catch the last of the light and scout their position once more. The port city glittered far behind them in the distance, white buildings and tiny ship sails aglow in the sunset. The road behind stretched long and mostly empty. They had not taken the main route out of Azura; this road was narrower, almost hidden amid the trees, stretching up along the cliffs that grew steeper as the land rose. Oriane could only see a handful of people along it now, though the road ahead stretched on an incline, so she could see nothing that way but trees.
Oriane was so lost in the magnificent dusk vista that she hardly noticed the little bird when it flew up beside her. But when the bird began to sing – when Andala began to sing – she could pay no mind to anything else.
Shadows grew on the eastern horizon as the nightingale’s song stole forth into the quiet. The skysingers kept pace with one another, flying together for the first time as easily as if they’d done it all their lives.
When Andala’s wings started to dip a little, Oriane swooped down with her, anxious to make sure she made it to the ground in time. They cut back through the trees together and landed on the road. The moment they did, Andala transformed. Back in her body, 349 she landed clumsily on her hands and knees, her head drooping towards the ground. She didn’t move.
Oriane changed back too, dropping to the ground beside her. Ahead she saw Kitt and Tomas dismounting, but at a glance from her they turned away quietly, taking their mounts’ reins and continuing up the road.
‘Andala?’ Oriane said, laying a tentative hand on her shoulder.
Andala’s head jerked up at the touch. Her eyes were rimmed with red, but no tears shone in them, as if she had driven them back inside through sheer force of will.
As one, they stood, and Andala turned towards Oriane, her black hair silvered with starlight. Despite the fear and anguish on her face, in this moment she looked every bit the nightingale, the goddess, and Oriane wished she could see it herself.
‘The island,’ Andala whispered. ‘How can we be sure it’s really there?’
The question sounded like it had been turning in her head all day. Oriane understood; it had been turning in hers, too. ‘I don’t think we can,’ she said gently, truthfully. ‘But I think … I think we have to try anyway.’
Words began to spill from Andala in a rush. ‘I can’t do this, Oriane. Even if I did manage to make it to the island – and I doubt that I will; you saw me just then, I nearly … But even if I did – I’m not the right person to be there with you. I lied before, when I said I was ready to be a god.’ She scoffed at the word, a dark, humourless laugh escaping. ‘I’m no god . A god shouldn’t feel like I do – like their power is a … a curse, some awful spell they can’t control that has only ever made the world worse.’
She looked up, and Oriane’s heart twisted to see she was crying in earnest now. It transfigured her face from its usual masklike beauty 350 into something more raw, more real. Something even more beautiful than before.
‘I’ve hurt so many people, Oriane. I don’t want to hurt you. Not any more than I already have.’
Oriane took a breath, gathered her courage. Andala had known what to say to her when she had visited dark places. And Oriane knew what she wanted to say now.
‘I know you’ve struggled,’ she said, her voice low. ‘I know your power – your darkness – it doesn’t sit easy with you. But I’m not afraid of it, Andala. I’m not afraid of you. If you want to learn to live with it, you don’t have to ask me to help you.’ She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. ‘There is nothing in this world that I would rather do.’
Andala’s eyes had lowered again as Oriane spoke. But now she looked up once more. After everything she’d just said, Oriane felt bare, vulnerable under her gaze, but she held it nonetheless. That was what she had wanted all along, wasn’t it? To share something of herself with others? To be seen?
Slowly, Andala raised a hand, placed it whisper-soft to the side of Oriane’s face.
This. This was what she had wanted, without even knowing.
She raised a hand to match Andala’s, and they stood in mirror image, palms burning on each other’s cheeks.
‘Oriane,’ Andala whispered. ‘I—’
But before she could finish what she’d been about to say, the sound of running feet made both their heads swivel sharply. Kitt was approaching.
‘Terault’s people,’ he panted as he reached them. ‘They’re already here.’ 351
They followed Kitt back to where Tomas waited in a hidden spot off the road. On the way he told them what he’d seen.
‘There’s a rise up ahead. I think the place we’re looking for is on the other side of it. I left Tomas so I could scout it on foot. And thank the skies I did, because they have people waiting. After the rise, the land smooths out into a kind of clearing, on top of a promontory. There’s something there … I couldn’t get a good look at it, but it looked like ruins of some sort, huge stone structures.’ He glanced between them. ‘I think it might once have been a temple.’
A temple . Oriane nearly stopped short. Of course – it made sense, didn’t it? This had to be the place. Worshippers had built a temple on the very spot the gods had first come to Cielore.
They’d found it. The island had to be there, just across the water. They were so close.
‘Terault’s followers are everywhere,’ Kitt went on. ‘Camped out among the ruins. He must have sent them ahead when he dispatched his scouts. I don’t know how, but he must have suspected you’d come here.’
They reached the animals and Tomas, who greeted them with a grim look. For a while, nobody spoke. They simply stood there, reeling from the discovery.
‘So we go no further,’ Oriane said, after a while. ‘We transform here, and fly the extra distance. Now that we have a marker of the way we’re supposed to go, we don’t have to fly from the ruins themselves. We just have to make sure we’re on the right course.’
Kitt was nodding, but Andala stayed silent. She bowed her head, her curtain of dark hair falling to obscure her face.
‘I still can’t transform.’ 352
A beat. Then Oriane said hastily, ‘That’s all right. We’ll … we’ll just wait until tomorrow’s nightfall. The moment you transform, we’ll go.’
But Andala shook her head. ‘These woods will be crawling with Terault’s men by then. There isn’t time. If we’re going to go, we have to go now.’ She looked up, fixing Oriane with her sharpest stare. ‘ You have to go now.’
‘No,’ Oriane said at once. ‘We’ve talked about this. I will not go without you.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous about this, Oriane. You cannot make yourself a martyr. There’s no sense in sacrificing yourself—’
‘And what about you? You almost sacrificed yourself to Terault to stop him hurting me.’
That brought Andala up short. ‘I – that was different. You know that. I had no choice. You do have a choice. You can transform right now and fly away, and you’ll be safe.’
Oriane shook her head, frustrated tears building in her eyes, burning. ‘It isn’t that easy.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’d rather die than be alone again!’
She hissed the words, louder than she’d meant to. The truth in them rang like an echo, and Andala flinched as though she’d been struck. A terrible sadness settled in her face.
‘If I go there,’ Oriane said, calmer now, ‘I can’t come back. I’ll be stuck there on my own for who knows how long. And if Terault finds you and does what he plans to do, I’ve no doubt he’ll come after me anyway.’ She shook her head, sank to the ground as her legs refused to hold her up any longer. ‘We’ll both be lost.’
Kitt sat beside her immediately, not saying anything, just a quiet, comforting presence. Andala sank to her knees at Oriane’s other side. 353 Tomas stood aside, clearly feeling awkward, separate – or perhaps, Oriane thought, catching a glimpse of his face, guilty for his role in all of this.
For several long moments there was no sound but the woods’ night-music, the gentle shifting of the animals beside them. Then—
‘Kitt,’ Andala said, ‘would you mind scouting a place for us to shelter out of sight? Oriane is going to teach me how to transform.’
They worked through the night.
Oriane tried everything she could think of to help Andala master her power. She talked her through the feeling of her own transformation; changed herself, in the hope that Andala could follow suit. And Andala tried, harder than anything. Oriane could see the effort she was expending, the desperation she tried to fuel into the magic she needed.
But soon they were an hour from dawn, and Andala still could not do it.
It felt impossible. There was no other way to say it. No matter what they tried, or how hard Andala worked, there seemed no way to recreate the phenomenon that had occurred in the palace dungeon. Oriane couldn’t bear to see the look on Andala’s face – the despair, the fury at herself.
‘It’s all right,’ she said, for the hundredth time. ‘Let’s take a moment and try again.’
But there was no time to do either.
Kitt burst back through the trees to their secluded clearing. ‘Terault’s people. More of them. They’re coming this way.’
Tomas emerged after Kitt, his face set and pale. 354
Ice spread through Oriane’s body. She was frozen solid. She couldn’t move.
Andala brought her back, a gentle hand gripping her arm. ‘Oriane, you have to go.’
‘No,’ Oriane said automatically, stubbornly.
‘It’s not a question anymore. It’s not up for debate. They’re coming. They can’t find you. You have to go .’
‘I’m afraid,’ Oriane blurted. Words were bubbling up within her in a rush, spilling over with her fear. ‘I’m afraid to leave here without you. To leave here at all. My home, my father …’ She hadn’t even buried him. Hadn’t gone back to say a proper goodbye.
Andala’s face softened. ‘He’ll be with you. It doesn’t matter where you go. He’ll always be with you.’
Now it was tears that spilled over. They tumbled down Oriane’s face as she turned in a half-daze to Kitt.
‘Kitt – if anything happens to you, I—’
‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, and she wanted to believe him. He took her hand, kissed it, ever the gentleman; gave her one of his familiar bright smiles. ‘I’m so glad to have met you. I’d say it’s been an honour to know the Lady Lark, but really, it’s just been an honour to know you, Oriane.’
She was crying in earnest now; she could not help it. ‘I’m glad to have met you, too,’ she choked out. ‘I’m glad to call you my friend.’
He squeezed her hand, then glanced towards the road. ‘Go now. Good luck.’
‘My lady.’
Tomas’s voice, quiet, tentative. Oriane turned to him; for a moment she had forgotten the king was there. He gave her a look that was rich with sorrow, regret etched deep into the lines that now stood out sharply on his face. 355
‘I am sorry,’ he said again, simply. ‘I know it can never be enough. I do not ask for your forgiveness. But for what I’ve done, for my role in this – know that I am sorry, and that I will do everything in my power to deserve that forgiveness, even though I won’t seek it.’
Oriane couldn’t speak. She had not forgiven the king for what he’d done. But she had not forgiven herself either. Tomas was not the only one to blame. Oriane was, too, and Terault, and no one at all – for things went the way they went, fate unfolding before them all like a sheet of stars, catching them up in its light, flinging them into the dark spaces between. All they could do was figure out how to navigate it. Oriane understood that now, somewhat, and so she nodded once at the king: an acknowledgement, an understanding, a farewell.
Without another word, Kitt and Tomas slipped away. Oriane turned, reached for Andala, but she was already there.
‘Sing for me when you get there,’ Andala said, holding both Oriane’s hands in hers. ‘I’ll need a light. A beacon, to guide me across the water. Sing for me and I’ll follow.’
A light. A beacon. That was what Oriane had hoped to be for the people of Cielore, at the beginning of all this.
She had failed. She had lost her way, strayed from her path – stumbled right into an abyss, cold and ruthless and seemingly infinite. The fall had cost her. But the pit had not swallowed her whole. Something had pulled her out of it: something familiar and yet brand new, warm as the light of a new day.
That warmth ignited at her heart now. Oriane felt it travel through her body, spreading from her chest out to her limbs, all the way to her fingertips as she held a hand once more to Andala’s face.
For one person, at least, she could still be a signal fire. 356
Before Oriane could speak, or even think of what to say, the look in Andala’s eyes changed. In the space of a breath she closed the gap between them, and pressed her lips to Oriane’s own.
After a moment, a heartbeat, a lifetime, they broke apart.
‘I’ll be waiting for you,’ Oriane whispered. Andala’s answering smile was bright as flame.
Oriane pushed through her panic, her fear and her sorrow, and called on her power. In no time at all she was the lark again – and she had never felt more at home in her form. She was no longer alone. Not alone, not singular, but seen . Part of a balance, half of a whole.
She knew her father would have been glad of it.
If she were still human, she might have gone on weeping: tears of grief and newfound happiness, tears for all she’d gained and all she’d lost.
If she were still human, she might have been ready to die. To give up her heart, pay penance for her mistakes, breathe her last here on this land as her mother and father had before her.
But Oriane was not human. Not right now. She was a bird, a beacon, a god; everything she’d been born to be, everything her father had brought her up to be. And she would live.
She would fly to the island. She would sing a dawn more beautiful than any that had come before. She would reclaim the great stone castle of the skysingers, and wait there for the nightingale to follow the light.