38. Two Halves of a Bargain
Two Halves of a Bargain
Seren lingers as the others board the goldwood boat. Pale green leaves dance overhead, shadowing the wide Pyran River. Folly leaps up the gangplank first, welcoming everyone with a sweep of his cloak. He’ll be their guide once they leave the palace, and he takes to the role with relish.
The next three ascend at leisure. Jasper and Sevastia laugh together, spinning fantasies about the mortal realm. Even Daffodil seems comfortable in her new apprentice ritekeeper robes. The three are here as Tansy’s friends, to say goodbye and make merry.
Tansy himself follows quietly, his smile dropping whenever the others look away. Like he can only act happy for so many minutes at a time.
Ever-watchful Nevander waits at the railing. Seren will join him soon, but first, he needs to speak with Primrose.
The great bear basks on the river’s edge. Her gaze is distant, encompassing trees or clouds or faraway dreams. A flock of tidingbirds flutter around her, grooming and hiding in her shaggy fur.
Feeling like a fluttering bird himself, Seren waits until she turns.
What do you seek? Primrose asks. The birds tell me there is no sign of the missing crown. Your new courtier from Summer’s Edge will arrive by the next moon.
So much remains unresolved. Seren may not need a crown to bargain with his realm, but he wants to know who took the shards—and why.
Whether it has anything to do with Haelwen’s unknown ritual.
Relations with Summer’s Edge are still fraught.
Gevain did not renounce his family before abducting Seren and Tansy, or before Seren executed him.
All while Lord Midnight’s augrays continue crossing borders.
Too many dangers—but Seren has time, Summer, and Nevander on his side. He sought Primrose for another reason today. “I wanted to ask how you were doing.”
Surprise colors her mental voice. That’s very kind of you.
“You’re close to Tansy. If you ever want to talk to him, or if you want to learn anything about where he’s going…”
Very kind, Primrose interrupts. She doesn’t sound mad. I always knew he would leave one day.
“Do you wish he could stay?” Seren asks before he can stop himself. He cringes, unsure who he’s really asking about.
Primrose sighs so heavily a pair of tidingbirds flee from her shoulders. They resettle atop her head. I wish fortune had treated him more kindly. But you give me hope. You are far stronger than when you walked my haven.
Seren catches Nevander’s gaze across the riverbank. Nevander is talking to Folly, but his attention on Seren never wavers. Seren inhales, tasting the warmth of Summer. “I have others to thank for that.”
That’s to your credit, Primrose says. Your mother ruled alone and died alone. I do not think that will be your fate.
Seren doesn’t flinch from the pain. He absorbs it, and his heart eases. “I came here to comfort you,” he accuses.
Primrose chuckles, an audible and mental rumble. A fine effort.
“You were like a mother to Tansy,” Seren says. “And to Haelwen, too.”
Like yet unlike. I am a bear.
Seren hadn’t expected to laugh today. “I see you’re at it again with Daffodil.”
She shows merit as a ritekeeper. Primrose tilts her head. Are you… jealous?
Baffling Primrose is satisfying, and Seren is tired of looking up to people. “I don’t want a new mother. But I would appreciate a friend.”
After a quiet moment, Primrose rises to her paws. I like that very much, she says from her flock of tidingbirds. As your friend, I advise you leave me to the birds and sunlight. Someone’s patience wears thin.
“Tansy’s or Nevander’s?”
You tell me. You’re the empath.
When Seren reaches the goldwood boat, Nevander is waiting. He takes Seren’s hand, steadying him against the sway. Seren briefly considers feigning a fall, just so Nevander can catch him. But that’s not very kingly.
“All right?” Nevander asks. Probably not about the rocking boat.
“Enough.” Seren takes stock of Nevander’s expression. Nevander’s still so locked-down when they’re in public, but Seren’s grown to recognize the smallest changes. “Is something wrong?”
Nevander glances towards the bow, where Folly is telling some made-up story. Tansy scuffs the deck as the others listen, rapt.
“I don’t know,” Nevander says under his breath. “Folly asked how well I know Valerian.”
Seren frowns. “Why?”
Nevander’s own frown is the slightest crease of his brow. “He said it was nothing.”
From most people in this realm, that would be reassuring. “But he’s human,” Seren says. “Which means he’s a liar.”
“A liar with one true eye,” Nevander says.
The ropes uncoil from the palace dock. Nevander’s arm settles around Seren’s waist moments before the boat lurches forward. Seren leans in. He’ll have to set aside the question of Valerian, and what Folly saw with his fae-touched eye. Another matter to investigate later.
First, Seren has to fix what his mother broke.
The woods are crisp and brassy with autumn. Everything is familiar and strange at once. Seren once sat at this creekside and dreamed of running away. Now that he has, the water looks so peaceful. The trees are so quiet.
Nevander prowls the tree line nearby. Partly out of vigilance, partly to give them privacy. This conversation is for Seren and Tansy alone. Two halves of a bargain that hurt everyone it touched.
“Are you sure?” Seren asks quietly.
Tansy wrinkles his nose in a show of disgust. “Make up your fucking mind. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
This is what Seren wanted, but not with Tansy so broken.
One month after Gevain’s betrayal, Tansy’s injuries fully healed. The emotional scars run deeper, and Seren shies from prying with his empathy. He can only imagine the hurt of flirtation turned into torture.
Seren could bind Tansy to Summer now. He has jurisdiction. But Tansy doesn’t want that anymore. His light seems dimmed, like he’s lost the wonder and delight that made him want to stay in Elladar.
The plain tunic and trousers don’t help. Seren’s never seen Tansy dressed so simply. Best not to stand out too much in Wymond, though.
“Let’s get this over with,” Tansy says, hitching his leather rucksack over his shoulder. “You look too freaky like that—I can’t stand it.”
“You’ll have to get used to humans,” Seren points out.
Tansy rolls his eyes. “I don’t mind humans. It just looks wrong on you.”
Seren’s been practicing this glamour for the past week, because he knew this day was coming. He wears an approximation of the guise he wore for twenty-one years. What he thought was his face. Muddy blond hair, rounded ears, dull complexion. Subtle changes to his jawline.
He’s kept his golden eyes, though. Eyes are trickier to glamour, and Seren wants to retain one element of his true appearance. The glamour’s just to avoid causing a stir on the streets of Wymond.
Seren glances over his shoulder. At the signal, Nevander vanishes with his own glamour. His invisible footsteps barely crackle. The sound is deliberate, so Seren doesn’t feel alone as he walks the same path Haelwen once walked.
Twenty-one years ago, the Queen of Summer stole a child and left her own son in a house of strangers. Today, Seren rebalances the scales.
“Alard must be home,” Seren says as they walk. “That’s his cart, between the woodpile and the vegetable patch.”
He hopes for Tansy to retort. Something about knowing what a woodpile is. But Tansy just trudges at Seren’s side, unmoved by this strange new realm. He doesn’t want to be here, Seren realizes with a pang. He just wants to leave Elladar.
Seren stops at the front porch. No neighbors in sight, but that doesn’t mean nobody’s watching. News travels fast in Wymond. How did Edith and Alard explain Seren’s absence? How will they explain Tansy’s arrival?
“Edith should be home, too. Unless she’s out gathering herbs. She’s an apothecary…” Seren trails off. “I’ve said that before.”
Leaves crunch. A firm hand squeezes Seren’s shoulder, and he leans into the invisible touch. Right. He can’t make this easy. Not for Tansy, not for Edith and Alard, not for himself. But this confrontation is necessary, and Seren is capable, because afterward, he can safely fall apart.
Seren meets no resistance at the threshold. The iron rabbit above the door must still be fake.
“Are you ready?” Seren asks.
Tansy holds the sarcasm this time. “Yes.”
Seren centers himself, stabilizing his emotional shields, and knocks twice. There’s a clatter from inside. The kitchen, and upstairs too.
“I’ll get it!” comes Edith’s muffled voice.
Panic tingles down Seren’s spine. Focusing on Tansy’s feelings has been easier than facing his own. Seren’s unprepared for the cold nerves and colder hope as the door cracks open.
After all this time, he hasn’t learned. The woman who raised him will never be glad to see him.
Edith is slighter than Seren remembers. The creases feathering around her eyes haven’t deepened over the past few months, but they’re somehow more apparent. The sleeves of her work dress are shoved up to her elbows.
Her face slackens. Then she meets Seren’s golden eyes, and fear spurs her voice. “Alard!”
Seren doesn’t feel her fear. He’s shielding. This would break him otherwise. Stepping aside, he pulls Tansy up the last step. He means to let go, but Tansy seizes his hand with surprising fierceness.
Boots thunder down the stairs.
“I’m sorry for running without a word,” Seren says. “There’s someone you should meet.”
Edith clutches the door. She regards Tansy with a different, tender fear. “Who is this?”
Behind her, Alard halts. His knuckles are white around a hammer, which he must have grabbed in response to his wife’s distress. Staring at Tansy, Alard looks as though he’s been struck with that hammer.
Seren squeezes Tansy’s hand. “This is your son.”
Alard makes a rough, choked noise.
“How can I believe you?” Edith asks, her eyes reddening.
“He can’t lie,” Tansy says, releasing Seren. He offers his hand, brightened by a fragile version of his usual smile. “Hello, Mother and Father. I’m Tansy.”