Chapter 24
By mid-morning the next day, word has spread: Princess Serah of Vasna, the future queen of Tirenth, has offered to draw water for the enemy.
Lord Tallin arrived shortly after dawn with a subdued entourage of wyverns, each of them bearing chests of jewels and precious metals, and one containing a glistening heap of golden sugar. The gift made, I offered mine in return—water for the wyverns.
Traitor. Wyrm. These are the words I expected from Tirenth’s citizens. To my shock, they said none of them, instead taking the arrangement with Tallin not as a sign of my disloyalty but of their soon-to-be queen’s political prowess.
“They may not say it, but dragons respect battles won with words almost as much as they do those won with their teeth,” Marta informed me when she stopped by this morning.
She spent the pre-dawn hours making loaves of cinnamon-laden bread she could share with those around her under the guise of a casual visit, while her true intention was to hear what Tirenth made of my actions.
“Female dragons tend to be submissive,” she said as I quietly chewed the bread she brought. “But strong queens are a point of pride with them. There hasn’t been one in some time.”
I nodded and thanked her. Soon after, she left, giving my knee a maternal pat on the way out. I must have seemed distracted.
I am distracted.
Nothing else has been heard from my mother. Immediately after receiving her message, Soren sent Rally and Ty to find her ship. The king assured me no one could reach her faster than a dragon in flight. Initially, I took comfort from his words.
Until he left last night as well and didn’t return.
I suppose I could have asked after him when Hiln and her girls came to dress me for bed, but my worry over Mother only seemed to strengthen her voice in my mind.
A man comes to you, not the other way around. Never make him think you need him.
I went to bed, alone and confused.
He came when the wyverns did, of course, appearing like a wraith out of a thick morning fog gusting off the ocean.
He looked as cold and distant as he did when I met him on the docks, and he spoke little.
I couldn’t understand it, and though he accompanied me back to the tent, he disappeared with the morning mist before I could ask him anything.
Alone again now, my hands tighten on my knees.
If Tirenth is to share water with the wyverns, I must concentrate.
I must draw faster. The tent is quiet, the sound of the crowd camped along the lakebed’s rim softened to a dull murmur in the absence of a challenger.
Everything that can be done for Mother is being done. There’s no excuse for delay.
Straightening my back, I shut my eyes and center my attention on the water beneath me. Mother would tell me this is what I’m here to do—draw water, not fret over her or my betrothed’s mercurial moods.
But why tease me like he did? Why speak of marriage and say nonsense like I’m too good for him, then disappear? And what could possibly make my mother ask him for aid when she was so angry with him? I shake my head in an attempt to clear it.
Water, I tell myself sternly, not Mother. Not Soren. Water. Once again, I seek the lake below.
Wake, I call for the hundredth time. I wonder if Tilly would be as amused as Selena was to hear that drawing large bodies of water was less mystical magic and more incessant badgering. Wake, water…
Days can be spent on communicating a single word to a body of water this big, so I try not to be discouraged by the lack of response. Because this water had already responded to me, I had hoped it would be more alert.
That does not seem to be the case.
I draw a deep breath. All I have to do is stay focused.
Water, wake, I say. Come. Come see the sun…
What comes instead is an image of my mother and Soren on the docks, her face twisted with fury while he watched her without a hint of concern. So much has changed since then.
Sighing, I chase away thoughts of them both and set my mind on the water below.
###
The last rays of sunlight are slanting through the gaps of the tent when I finally give in to exhaustion. I fall back onto the bare sand, staring with glazed eyes at the tent ceiling.
Meals have been brought and taken away. Servants have come and gone.
Still, there has been no word of Mother.
And no sign of Soren.
I’d convinced my guards that I would work better alone—which is true—so they had remained outside, but once, when Yarl held the tent entrance open for those bringing food within, I met his eye, and he said, “His Majesty wishes to know if you require anything else.”
I was shocked and promptly blurted, “So he’s nearby?”
Yarl blinked at that. “Yes, Your Highness.”
I had briefly wondered if the king had gone with Rally and Ty to find Mother. The realization that he was still close and yet hadn’t come to see me or send word to explain his sudden absence stings.
“No,” I told Yarl. “I don’t need anything.”
I wonder how true that is as I lie here. My head hurts, my legs ache, and my monthly curse helps none of these things. I wish my cat friend were here to sit in my lap. His presence would be a welcome comfort. I swallow against the sudden tightness in my throat.
“Crying will only make your head hurt worse,” I say aloud, but my eyes begin to sting anyway. I let out a short laugh at the absurdity.
“Can’t wake you up,” I say with a tap at the ground, “and can’t stop water coming from my own eyes.”
The answer that comes is swift and sharp.
Go away.
I startle upright. “What?”
Go away.
My brow furrows. Water is peaceful, often amiable, even. This felt like a mental shove. Why? I ask carefully.
Go away, is the answer yet again, and apparently, it’s the only answer the water wishes to give because it begins repeating the demand like a child throwing a tantrum.
Go away, go away, go away…
I sit in blank amazement. Water craves the path of least resistance, yes, but it also craves the sky.
I’ve never encountered water that didn’t desire the surface.
As it continues to chant, I wonder if this water hasn’t taken on some of the obstinacy of a dragon.
I’ve never heard of such, but I’ve never drawn water in a land occupied by anyone other than humans either.
“Serah?”
The quiet call came from the tent entrance. My head ringing with the water’s continued demand for me to leave, I rub at my face and call, “Enter.”
Tilly slips inside bearing a furry bundle in her arms, and despite my fatigue and the water’s baleful yammering, I leap to my feet.
“Cat friend,” I cry.
“He was just outside,” Tilly says as she hands him over. Without even thinking, I kiss the top of his head, and he begins purring, the wonderful creature.
“Thank you, Tilly. I’m very glad to see you both.” I glance up with a smile, but the one she returns wobbles a bit, as if she’s holding back tears herself. “Is something wrong?”
Go away, go away, go away, the water grumbles.
“Well…” Tilly drops her gaze to the ground. “I did want to see how you are, of course.”
I ease my cat friend down and stroke his back. “That’s kind.” I don’t want to tell her I was on the verge of crying myself, not with her looking so distressed. “How are you?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” she says, and the words do sound sincere.
“Is it something to do with Lord Lyken?” I venture.
She shakes her head, biting her lip.
My cat friend twines around my legs, and the water grows louder, setting the words to a faster cadence.
Go away go away go away…
I take a steadying breath. “Would you like to sit?”
Another shake of the head.
“Tilly, if there is something I can help with, then I will. You know that, right?”
A miserable desperation passes over her face. “Rosa says I shouldn’t interfere with the relationship between the two of you.”
“Between the king and I, you mean?”
She nods.
Again, I silently thank the tutors who trained me to school my expression. “Princess Rosa is welcome to her own opinion, but as your soon-to-be sister, I hereby declare you free to tell me whatever you please without consequences.”
Her eyes lift at my playful tone.
“I mean it,” I say, tilting my head to look into her face. “You can say whatever you like. My sister Selena certainly does.”
She glances aside once more before words tumble from her like a broken dam.
“It’s just that I don’t understand why you haven’t made him stop.
He hasn’t eaten. I’ve asked. He hasn’t slept.
Rosa said you two must have had a fight, and I should leave it be, but he’s my brother, and I know he loves you, Serah.
He’s been mad about you since the first time he laid eyes on you.
He came home telling me he’d found his fated flame.
You’re all he talked about before your ship came. ”
My mouth falls open, but I snap it shut fast. I don’t want her to think me angry when I’m only confused. “Tilly,” I say slowly, “forgive me, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She flinches back, not in fear but anger. Does she think I’m lying? For a second, her pupils narrow on me in an alarmingly familiar way, and I find myself glancing over her arms for emerging scales.
She must decide my puzzlement is genuine because her expression turns contrite. “You don’t?”
I shake my head at her. “I haven’t seen Soren since last night. What is it he’s doing?”
Instead of answering, she says, “Didn’t you wonder where he was?”
Of course I did, I almost answer, but the water is shouting now within my mind, booming for us all to GO AWAY, and the exhaustion of this long, perplexing day rushes through me, and all I can do is say, “Please tell me where he is.”
“He’s right outside the tent. He’s, well, he’s prowling.” This last word she leans near to whisper like it’s profane.
“And how long has he been doing this?”
“Since last night.” She wrings her hands. “Serah, he hasn’t stopped since last night.”