CHAPTER 23
THE A’KORI PALACE
Present Day
There is no sign of the sprites when I wake in a bloody crimson haze, barely clinging to reality.
I laid awake for hours last night. My attempts to shut off the current in my mind and just sleep, a true and utter failure.
The thundering in my head, evidence that what little sleep I obtained was hard won and my victory not at all impressive.
The pounding, along with the brutal visions, fade as I ready myself for the day.
I’m brushing through my curls when a letter slides under my door, bearing a stamped wax crane—Awri’s seal.
She was on my mind when sleep finally took hold of me.
Even at the height of her anger, I had not doubted she would seek me out again.
I only hope it is to mend ties and not fray them further.
A curious blend of joy and trepidation twists my gut when her letter asks me to meet her at the stables.
She would like me to join her for a hunt, just the two of us.
I’m more than a little surprised by the invitation, and I can only hope she isn’t planning my demise in the form of a well-placed arrow.
I don’t think so, but no one ever walks into such things without being blind to them.
The cool spring air nips at my nose. An early morning fog drapes over A’kori, obscuring the city from view.
I follow the reverberating sound of blades clashing in the quiet of daybreak, every strike echoing in the dense mist. I offer my friend a small smile when she appears out of the fog, donning the same leathers I wear and an equally pensive smile.
I don’t have the chance to say a single word before she embraces me. Clapping her hands against my back, she says, “I am truly sorry. I should not have spoken to you like that. Not when I call you my friend. Please forgive me.”
I return her embrace with a gentle squeeze of my own, utterly unprepared for the grace she extends.
While lying in bed I pondered at length how she might approach me, what she was likely to say, and what I would say in return.
Of all the conversations I constructed in my mind, this had not been one of them.
“There is nothing to forgive,” I say, “I understand how it looks but—”
“Don’t,” she interrupts, “You don’t have to explain.” She pulls back and smiles at me proudly. “It’s a testament to your character that you honor your friends’ secrets.”
A dull pain strikes my chest when she says it. There is no honor in what I plan. Duty, yes. But no honor in the life I’ll take and the injury her heart will suffer because of her trust in me.
I don’t miss that, like the general, she seems to have her suspicions about where I learned the sprite tongue, but I take her at her word when she says I don’t have to explain and leave it at that.
I force a smile, and she leads me toward the stables.
I envy Riesh and Kishek as we pass by the sparring ring.
They round one another with long, heavy blades, and I flex my hand, wishing I could feel the hilt of a sword again.
The general watches from the sideline, his chest still slick with sweat from the rounds he’d gone before I arrived.
My eyes can’t help but linger, feasting on his flesh.
I chide myself for looking when his eyes catch mine and his entire body tenses in recognition of my gaze.
I puff out a relieved breath when the general’s stare is broken by the wall of the stables as I follow Awri inside. A quick glance around tells me that the female had this arranged since early this morning. Her grey dappled mare is saddled alongside the midnight mare I borrowed from Felias.
I’m going to need to find time to return the horse soon, perhaps when I call on him for another luncheon and to procure my pants. I can’t help but wonder if the man will continue to reveal his true self to me, and if he does, what other information he might divulge.
She hands me a quiver, slinging her own across her back. I cinch the strap across my chest and, with a handful of mane, swing into the saddle. Awri notes the maneuver with curiosity, as she glides onto her own seat.
“I’ve ridden since I was a little girl,” I explain.
The bow strapped to the saddle behind me is easy to reach, bound by a small leather strap.
Adjusting my cloak around my shoulders, I give the horse a click of my tongue and she saunters forward, Awri and her mount following close behind.
I’m not sure why Awri laughs when she sees the general tugging his tunic over his head, wearing his usual brooding frown, until she ribs her friend.
“We’ll keep to the edge of the forest,” she assures him, “And I promise to keep her far away from any of the springs.”
The male pushes out an exasperated sigh that only makes her laugh louder before cracking her reins in the air, sending our mounts into a gallop toward the woodland.
My cloak billows in the dragging wind and I close my eyes, happy to let the mare have her way.
The crisp chill of the morning air fades into an unseasonable warmth as we near the forest. Thick tendrils of air caress the lobes of my ears before rushing down my neck and filling my bodice until my skin prickles and a wide grin breaks across my face.
True to her word, we spend the morning skirting the trees. Only delving into the dense undergrowth on foot occasionally to check for any sign of our prey.
“I truly am sorry.” Her voice breaks the silence just before midday.
“Don’t be,” I try to assure her, again.
The quiet of the hunt is a relief, the time alongside one another easing a bit of the tension between us.
“It would be easy to blame my actions on exhaustion,” she says, “like Kishek said last night, planning for the masque has taken a toll, as well as other matters I’ve had to attend as of late.
But it wasn’t any of that.” She sighs, letting the conversation linger in the air until I think that might be the end of it.
“You caught me completely off guard. When I saw you with that sprite it was like I didn’t know you at all. Like I was looking at a stranger.”
I shove down a bloom of guilt. She doesn’t know me. Not really. And that is something I’m sure she will live to regret.
“But that wasn’t fair of me,” she continues, “you’re entitled to a life unscrutinized by me or anyone else. I should have thanked you for what you did.”
“You don’t nee—”
“Thank you,” she cuts me off with a fierce stare.
After a moment of pause, I dip my chin, and it seems the simple gesture is enough for her.
The forest is still, almost eerily so, and I find myself thinking of the naiad and other fea that might be lurking under the deep shadows cast by the canopy above.
“Why didn’t the general want you hunting today?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the forest.
She laughs. “Xey hasn’t fussed over me like that since I was a child. You, on the other hand,” her lips kick up at the ends in an amused smirk, “bring out a very different side of the male. I think he would have sent an entire battalion if I’d allowed it.”
My eyes nearly bulge from their sockets. She’s joking, of course, but it begs the question, does the general really have a battalion of men hiding near the palace grounds? I have spent far too many hours indoors planning parties if it is true and I am somehow completely unaware of it.
“Does he worry about the other fea in the forest?” I ask, “He told me there were more who live there.”
“There are thousands of them,” she says, “The forest stretches beyond the mountains, all the way to the northern sea. The king grants any fea seeking refuge the right to live on that land.”
She looks toward the snow-covered peaks as if she could somehow see the vast expanse of land that lays beyond them.
“The ship you saw last night was far from the first,” she explains, “And regretfully they’ve become more frequent.
Brax was left in the keeping of the fea after the sundering, but life for them is altered, and it is not the same home they once had.
Many attempt the crossing from the south, but very few live to see the bounty of the northern woods. ”
“They die in the crossing? From what?” I wonder.
“The tidelands that surround Brax make for a treacherous journey. They are full of unpredictable currents and shallow reefs known as chai’brukar, ship breakers. Most of the ships sink before they ever make it into the open sea.”
I don’t have to ask what type of lives the fea must lead to drive them to such desperation. I have lived it. Seen it with my own eyes in La’tari.
“Have you been to Brax?” I ask.
“Not for many years,” she answers thoughtfully, “I was last there during the war. Even then it was a far cry from what it had been before the La’tari began hunting the fea. It’s only gotten worse for them since the treaty.”
That gets my attention and my head whips toward her.
“How has it gotten worse?” I ask, afraid I already know the answer.
“The treaty was meant to end the hunting of the fea,” she says, “but it only served to divide our people and weaken us. The fea in Brax are at the mercy of the La’tarians and their word.”
“And the Vatruke,” I add, watching her carefully to gauge her reaction.
She doesn’t give much away when she nods. “The Vatruke would be bad enough without the La’tari military aiding them. For the fea in the south, the options are slim, risk death on chai’brukar or capture. If you know of the Vatruke then you understand why many might find death preferable.”