42. Diar
Diar
Akemi had described the capital of Nazumi as breathtaking. A collage of colors, built upon a lake, impossible to describe in full.
I’d envisioned a collection of houses along a shore. How wrong I’d been. My interpretation described the outskirts, the farmhouses, and fishing huts scattered outside the walls.
The walls themselves were magnificent, painted with crashing waves and helmed by metal roofs. But the city tucked behind it was even more awe-inspiring.
Platforms criss-crossed the lake’s surface, transparent like glass, the color of turtle shells.
Buildings were erected along them, crowned with three-tiered roofs strung with lanterns.
I stared down as we crossed the first platform into the city built upon the waves, half-expecting to fall through.
Strange trees grew from the water, roots floating on the lake and drifting down into the deep.
Ferris bumped into me—his eyes were pointed straight down, too. Snapping his head up, he nudged me. “Are you ready for this?”
Crowds funneled past us, following the flow of the platforms. They felt foreign, despite being my countrymen. Guards looked like works of art, their armor crafted of woven steel, decorated with blue sashes and padded jackets painted with scenes of the sea.
Women wore the same long dresses we did in Tsuyan, but they were made from thin, breathable silks and adorned with decorative scarves. Several walked alone, but no woman in Tsuyan could travel without her father or husband.
A small blossom of hope unfurled in my heart.
“Let’s go,” I said, taking Ferris’ arm lest I lose him in the crowd.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to say?” He asked, eyeing the open-windowed shops along the right edge of the platform.
“I thought you were doing the talking.”
“Some of it, sure. But I’ve never met the Archdruid, so I don’t know what he’s like.” Ferris stopped, staring to his right. I followed his gaze to a window filled with feathered hats and turtleshell hairpins.
Yanking his arm, I dragged him away. “Later.”
“Right,” he murmured. “You spent all my money, anyway.”
“It was coin well spent.”
Ferris blurted out a single syllable, then shut his mouth. He gave me a sidelong glance—the same look he shot me every time he had been about to flirt.
Flexing my hand, I pictured Siotha. I had not summoned it yet. Part of me worried it would not heed my call.
I did not feel I deserved this bow. Maybe it saw something I didn’t. Would the Archdruid share my father’s beliefs, or would he sense the same potential Siotha did?
Ferris whistled. “At least we know where we’re going.”
The palace was impossible to miss. It rose from the center of the lake, flying the brilliant blue banners of Muirashi. The strange waterborne trees surrounded it like a protective grove, leaves brushing the balconies.
At a crossroads, the platforms branched off in several directions. The broadest path led through rows of trees toward the palace. Two soldiers stood guard at the path’s entrance, spears planted at their feet.
Taking a breath, I approached them. “I must see the Archdruid.”
One stepped forward and examined us with piercing, sky-blue eyes. “Everyone needs to see the Archdruid these days. State your name.”
Ferris stood taller. “Prince Ferris of Aenir.” He slid a ring off his finger. “This should prove my identity.”
The guard took the signet ring and turned it over. “Come with me, your highness.”
Ferris took his ring back and shot me a smug grin. He’d gotten me into the palace, as promised.
Nodding at his fellow, the guard waved for us to follow and led us through the hall of trees. The rush of the crowd muted behind us.
“What brings you here?” The guard asked. “I presume it's bad news—everything is these days.”
“Tsuyan is trying to kill their new Paragon,” Ferris explained, sauntering like he owned the place. “I thought the Archdruid ought to be warned.”
“What?” The guard looked between us. “I’d heard Lord Ishii died, but nobody has seen fit to tell us how.”
“Yes, that tale has been kept oddly quiet. Forlaith knows, but they're keeping mum.” Ferris looked at me. “Well, go on.”
I closed my eyes and pictured the bow of ice, remembering how it had felt in my grip: like I’d always been meant to wield it.
And the power it had promised: a chance to be the sovereign of my own life.
Cold air rushed across the walkway, and snowflakes followed its streams. I opened my eyes as Siotha manifested in my grip, a longbow of crystalline beauty.
“Oh, shit.” The guard stepped back in surprise. “You’re the new Paragon?” He looked me over again, as though reaffirming I was a woman. “No wonder they’re trying to kill you.”
Ferris tsked. “It's foolish nonsense. Cierthine chose Tirnanog's princess, and Aenir accepted her. We would never disparage our beloved blade by claiming it made a mistake.”
“Siotha never has, either. And for all we know . . . slaughtering a Paragon could ensure Siotha never chooses again.” He nodded. “The Archdruid is holding a meeting—but it can wait. This is more important.” Turning on his heel, he quickened his stride.
I glanced at Ferris, surprised. He shot me a grin and pushed me along after our guide.
"One thing," Ferris called to the guard. "Introduce me, and me alone."
The guard glanced back. "Right. Good idea."
Slinging Siotha around my shoulder, I gazed up at the imposing palace. The men stationed at its grand entryway pushed the doors open for us. I saw one double-take when he noticed the weapon around my shoulders.
He was hardly the only one to gape. The palace was abuzz with activity inside; ladies, lords, and stewards alike stared at me—some with confusion, others with wonder. Our guide shooed off anyone who drew near with a curt wave of his hand.
My eyes wandered to the mural painted across the towering ceiling.
It was old, faded in a few places. A woman with wings of pastel blue hugged an orb of water to her chest lovingly.
Colors swirled around her gown, but I had to look away when I nearly tripped on the stairs leading to the audience hall.
Another pair of guards stood watch outside the throne room doors. “Urgent news, from Aenir,” our guard said. “Let us through.”
“The Archdruid is occupied—”
“It cannot wait,” he repeated.
The guards glanced at each other before pushing the doors open. Ferris took my wrist and gently moved me behind him as we funneled into the hall.
My first instinct was to resist, but he probably had the right idea. Better to let him do the talking—the Archdruid couldn’t order the prince of Aenir to be shot on sight.
Towering pillars flanked us as we approached the throne. Several men gathered around it, dressed in dark blue robes, set beneath black armor sectioned into tiny squares, bound with silver thread.
Shatterblades.
I heard a voice coming from ahead, and my heart sank into my boots.
That was lord Ishida’s voice. What was he doing here?
We made it halfway down the throne room before Ishida noticed our approach. He cut off and turned, deep blue eyes quickly landing on me.
I strained not to make a face, and mostly succeeded.
The Archdruid rose from his seat. He looked the part—draped in voluminous white robes with black-blue hair spilling down his back. Few cares lined his face—he was far younger than I was expecting.
“What is the . . . ” The Archdruid trailed off, noticing Siotha on my back.
Our guard bowed in respect. “I present to you Prince Ferris of Aenir, my lord. He comes with an urgent message."
Pressing a hand to his chest, Ferris bowed his head. "My lord, I—”
Ishida interrupted him. “Diar.” He ran a hand through his swept-back hair. “What have you done now?”
Maybe he knew me better than I’d believed.
Ferris' brow twitched in irritation, but the Archdruid spoke before him. “First Cierthine, now our Siotha? Does Solathair mock us in our darkest hour?”
Any hope I’d held that he might listen fled with his words. My hand wrapped around the bow.
Ferris motioned for me to let him speak, but I ignored him. “Tsuyan wasted precious time they could have been training me, trying to kill me. As you can see, they didn’t succeed. What makes you think you will?”
Our guide whirled around. “No honorable man of Nazumi would harm you.”
Lord Ishida glanced at our guard before stepping closer to me. “Nor would your father. But you have made things considerably worse.”
Pressing a hand to his head, the Archdruid fell back into his seat. “There is already enough trouble in this city. Detain the pretender until I have had time to process this.”
Our guard did not budge. “But, my liege—”
“By the saints!” Ferris cursed. “She’s here, ready to help you where you most need it. What is the matter with you people?” He shifted in front of me. “Detain her over my dead body—assuming you want to explain to my father why you murdered his son.”
The Archdruid’s eyes flared. Ishida’s men took a step away from Ferris, hands falling to their blades.
Tension hung in the room. I had a feeling which way the cards would fall, and pulled Siotha from my back.
“Don’t,” Ferris hissed. “A Paragon should not harm their people.”
He was right—shooting a Shatterblade was the worst way to gain their trust.
“Prince Ferris,” the Archdruid said. “What is your stake in this matter? Or are you here on your father’s behalf?”
“King Ailithir allowed Cierthine to remain with Lady Rohan, and look what it's wrought—she saved Tsuyan from certain doom.”
Lord Ishida smiled. “I was just delivering my report on the matter—it told no such fable.” He twisted his neck to look back at the Archdruid. “Twice Diar has escaped—and we cannot part her from Siotha. Detaining her will be a waste of time.”
“Then kill her and be done with it,” the Archdruid ordered. “Yuudai’s feelings matter little when we are at war.”
Ferris pushed me back and flicked his wrist. A gale swirled around his boots, and the emerald dragon burst from its hold, floating at his side. The Shatterblades drew their weapons. Lightning crackled through the room.
An earth-shattering boom erupted behind me as the throne room doors flew open and slammed against the walls. I turned, expecting to see a charging monster or a horde of men bursting through.
But it was only a single man. Tall, imposing, clad in umber armor decorated with gold, his head crowned by a frightening helm that sprouted thick, black horns.
I knew this armor—the black horns of Terishal, an elite unit of knights from the northeast.
The towering man paused, looking over the scene. His voice was calm and even, but loud enough to reach every corner of the audience hall.
“Talav shit,” he cursed, striding toward us again. “I leave for one day, and return to a standoff in the throne room."
“Lord Paragon.” Ishida dipped his head. “Your arrival is most timely.”
Paragon? For the first time, I noticed a beautiful hammer hanging from the knight’s back. It was carved with staggering detail, runes and imagery I could not make out from here. Its head was perfectly round and looked like it could effortlessly cleave Ferris’ skull in.
The Paragon paused beside me. Topaz eyes peered down from behind his visor, drinking me in. His face was impassive—not a single emotion flitted across it.
“Well,” he mused, lifting his head. “The Paragon weapons have an agenda as of late.”
“My lord—” Ishida tried.
The Paragon ignored him. “Do you know how to fight, girl?”
“Yes,” I said. “My brother trained me for seven years.”
“Blade, or bow?”
“Both.”
He nodded, glancing at Ferris. “Did I hear you say something about dying for her?”
“You heard right.” Ferris folded his arms.
“That’s the last thing this country needs.” The Paragon turned to the Archdruid. “I have served alongside four different Paragons—and all were men I’d happily die for. The weapons do not choose wrong. You may not understand this, Ansei, but I do.”
The Archdruid seemed to soften at his words. “You would train her, then?”
“It sounds like I won’t need to. I’ll test her—and should she prove worthy, I will present her to you—a honed weapon, to point at your foes. As Ishii was.”
Closing his eyes, Archdruid Ansei tapped his fingers on his armrest. “Very well. I do not like it—but I like little of late.”
My fingers loosened around Siotha. Lord Ishida glared at me, though I could not read his expression.
I glared back.
“Test her,” the Archdruid ordered. “But we haven’t the time to train a greenhorn. If she is found wanting?” He turned to me. “Siotha must be taken—by whatever means necessary.”