Chapter 34
Ivy
The wagon jolts to a halt when we’re still half a mile distant from Baron Cyris’s summer residence. The driver calls back to us in a wary voice. “There’s someone coming to meet us. They’re signaling for us to stop. I’d better wait and see what she’s about.”
I rub my eyes, bleary after the fragmented sleep I forced myself to attempt on the trip back, and peek through a gap in the canvas covering. A figure on horseback is riding toward us at a gallop through the thin dawn light, braided hair streaming behind her.
It’s hard to read her expression at this distance and with her moving so swiftly, but her rigid stance makes me tense up in turn.
Rheave adjusts his position beside me, setting his hand on my shoulder. I’m aware of Casimir sitting across from us, though I can only see a hazy impression of him if I squint.
Even though we’ve almost reached our current “home,” it doesn’t feel safe to remove the charms concealing us just yet.
The rider arrives with a thunder of hoofbeats and a disgruntled-sounding huff from her horse. She cranes her neck to eye the wagon before focusing on the driver. “You’ve brought the three of them back from Florian?”
“Of course. Is something the matter?”
“Word’s been spreading.” Her voice drops to a hush as if she’s hoping I won’t hear. “About her. The baron doesn’t want her on his property anymore. I’ll let the others know you’ve returned. Wait here.”
She whirls the horse and races back toward the residence without waiting for a response. My stomach has plummeted to somewhere in the vicinity of the floor.
Word’s been spreading… about my riven magic. About the sister I killed with it.
About how my own mother is condemning me and calling for me to be struck down.
Some of our allies already knew, but my men and I never emphasized it. I’ve rarely used any magic in front of any of them.
I made it as easy as possible for them to dismiss or ignore the nature of my power. Now Lothar has shoved it in all their faces.
My throat constricts, and a hand wraps around mine. Casimir has pushed forward and found me in the dimness of the wagon.
“Petra will sort this out if no one else does,” he says. “She knows you’re not a threat—she knows how much you’ve done for her and her family.”
She does. And one of the things I did, no matter how many times she says she doesn’t blame me for it, is get Lothar access to the room where he slaughtered her parents.
My stomach settles into a simmer of nausea while we wait for the rider to bring additional orders. We have our own urgent news to pass on, but the messenger didn’t give us a chance to say anything. Every minute could make a difference.
Doesn’t the baron care about that?
Finally, I peek outside and spot a small procession on their way.
Whoever that woman was, she isn’t with them. It’s just Stavros, Alek, and Sulla, on their usual horses and leading three other steeds including Toast, with Petra and a couple of her guards riding behind them. Our horses are loaded with bulging saddle bags.
My queasiness bubbles right up to the base of my throat. It doesn’t look as if they’re coming to say all is well and we should return to Baron Cyris’s residence after all.
The concealment charm seems pointless now. I don’t need to hide from my lovers and the one consistent friend I’ve got in this mess.
As I tug off mine, Casimir and Rheave follow suit. We clamber out the back of the wagon and come around to meet our ominous welcome party.
Stavros’s face is as grim as I’ve ever seen it, his eyes dark with restrained fury. He hops off his horse the moment he’s near enough and strides over to meet me.
His voice comes out taut. “I’m sorry, Ivy. I tried to reason with Cyris—he has to see—I don’t know how he could think it’s worth jeopardizing everything we’ve worked for?—”
I lift my hand to cut him off, forcing a sickly smile. “Unfortunately, we’ve got bad news that’s even more urgent. I don’t suppose anyone passed on word about Lothar’s trials as well.”
Alek’s eyes widen. “What? No.” His tone turns bitter. “They were too busy smearing your name.”
I can’t let that fact distract me from my most important purpose. “Lothar also announced that the Order of the Wild will be holding their kingship trials in four days, when we’d normally be celebrating Creadenala. He made a challenge to Petra to show herself there or forfeit the crown.”
For all his fury on my behalf, even Stavros draws up short. “Four days?”
Petra sucks in a breath with a hiss, her tan skin graying.
“So we have to pull the rest of whatever we’re doing together even faster,” I say, supressing the ache in my gut. “However we can. What exactly has the baron decided about me? I’m guessing he hasn’t called for my arrest.”
Stavros’s lips draw back from his teeth with a restrained growl. “I’d stuff him in one of his holding cells before I let his guards set a finger on you.”
Alek speaks up again, his voice quieter now but still strained. “Hunting parties have already gone out from the nearby towns—people hoping they can spot you and get some kind of reward for reporting you to the Order and allowing ‘justice’ to be done. Baron Cyris doesn’t feel secure having you on the premises in the current atmosphere. And obviously we weren’t going to stay if you couldn’t.”
Sulla bows her head. “No one’s hunting for me, but I wouldn’t have felt safe staying among such fickle allies.”
Petra brings her horse around the others, shooting a brief glance of stifled irritation toward the guards who insist on flanking her. “I still want your help—now more than ever if we only have three days left to finish our plans. Our scouts previously identified a reasonably secure location nearby where you can stay and avoid notice. There’s an abandoned cabin about a half hour’s ride from here in a patch of woods. And I’ll keep working on the baron to have you back in comfort.”
It”s not my comfort I’m worried about. Despite my best efforts and maintaining my composure, my stomach has not just sunk but had a hole punched through it.
My voice comes out with a rasp. “Don’t bother with that. You need to put every bit of your energy and concentration into overseeing our final preparations.”
My daimon lover clearly disagrees with my priorities. “How can the baron cast Ivy away?” he demands. “She’s helped so many people—she hasn’t hurt anyone.”
I give Rheave’s arm a quick squeeze. “You know that isn’t entirely true. I’m lucky my presence was tolerated for as long as it was. Let’s find this cabin and let Petra get back to her work.”
Willing my posture to remain steady, I walk over to claim Toast and swing onto his back. Rheave and Casimir take their own mounts, Rheave’s expression still fierce and Casimir’s downcast in a way I’ve rarely seen on the courtesan.
No one wants to say it, but this is the end. The end for us, at least.
I think I’ve known it since I first saw my mother standing on the platform next to Lothar’s projection, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself.
The wrenching sensation inside me pulls my gaze to Stavros. “You should stay with Petra and the others at the estate. You’re by far the best strategist they?—”
Stavros cuts off my suggestion with a sharp shake of his head. “Our future queen knows she has all our support, but I’m not going to act as if I condone the way the baron is treating you. I’ll only be a half hour away, and I can think just as well outside those walls.”
Petra lifts her chin. “And for the actual construction, we’ll probably end up closer to you than the residence regardless.”
She turns to one of the soldiers. “Ride back to the estate and let the others know our new timeframe. If there are any clerics we haven’t heard from to supervise the trials, we need to approach our second choices now. And all the blueprints need to be finalized so we can start construction today. I’ll be back as soon as these allies of mine are settled.”
The man bobs his head and gallops off.
With a tap of her heels against her horse’s flanks, Petra leads us around the estate. As I follow her, I tell myself it’s all right.
I’ve pitched in plenty already. I’ve played a key role in building our cause from our first tiny group to a network of hundreds of allies across the country.
I should be satisfied with the fact that I accomplished as much as I did. Who knows whether I could have really done much more anyway?
I still can’t shake the sensation of a jumble of rocks piling up in my belly.
Sulla prods her mare to walk beside Toast. We ride in silence for a few minutes before she clears her throat.
“There’s too much history. Too much fear. Those who don’t have the power don’t know how to see us as human.”
That’s part of the reason she didn’t want me inserting myself into the affairs of the country in the first place. I wince inwardly. “I know it’s hard. But a few of them have accepted me as I am. If Lothar hadn’t sent the whole country into a fury to hunt me down…”
She sighs. “They’re only acting on what they think is right. What they think even the gods would want.”
But it isn’t. The gods wanted us to wield this magic, at least while it was useful to them. If anything, we’re blessed more than anyone else, not less.
Even that revelation sits heavily in my chest right now. No matter what we say to most of Silana’s citizens, how will they ever accept the idea that the riven are more than monsters?
It certainly didn’t look possible in the temple courtyard last night.
Even the men and women who’ve worked alongside me have remained wary through the weeks. There are still more of our allies who’ll dodge my path than smile at me.
Casimir seems to have picked up on my train of thought. He speaks in the steady, soothing tone that comes to him so naturally. “Once we’ve fully exposed Lothar for the villain he is, it’ll be easier to convince the rest of the country that the things he said were wrong as well.”
It isn’t just Lothar saying riven sorcerers deserve nothing but execution, though. Gods smite me, I had trouble believing anything else for most of my life.
Those uneasy thoughts stew inside me through the rest of the ride. We pick our way along narrow paths trampled by wildlife through a stretch of forest, Petra studying our surroundings and adjusting our course a few times. She makes a wordless sound of relief when a low, log building comes into view up ahead.
Once we’ve dismounted and examined the cabin, I can’t summon much of a mood for gratitude. The building contains only a single room, scattered with dirt and twigs that have blown through the broken window. It smells dank, and the door doesn’t close all the way.
It must be years if not decades since anyone last stayed here.
Oh, well. If we’re still here after three more days, then we’ve lost to the scourge sorcerers, and it’ll be a far cry better than a dungeon.
Alek pats the wall with forced cheer. “At least the roof looks solid enough. We’ll have shelter if it rains.”
Stavros grunts. “It beats a tent of branches. We’ve made do with worse.”
Petra steps toward me and my men. “You can keep the one concealment charm, Ivy. If anyone does stumble on you, you’ll want to be able to disappear.”
She glances apologetically at Rheave and Casimir. “I’ll need to bring back the others. We don’t know how quickly we might need them.”
Rheave opens his mouth with a look as if he’s about to protest, but I jump in first. “Of course. The first priority is keeping you and your brother and sister safe. There aren’t many to go around.”
The daimon-man frowns, but he doesn’t want to argue with me. And he’d probably rather blast anyone who comes hunting around here than stay hidden anyway.
“Thank you for understanding,” Petra says softly as the two men hand over the charms on their chains. “I haven’t asked you yet—did you accomplish everything you hoped to in Florian?”
Casimir pipes up first. He already filled me and Rheave in on his success when we reconvened at the wagon. “The Black Talons came through admirably. Their people should already be distributing the pamphlets so that most of Florian will be ready for our trials when we give the signal. We decided it was best if most of the recovered daimon remain in the city so they’ll be close at hand when we arrive, but they might send a few to Baron Cyris’s estate.”
“How many did you recover?” Her gaze slides to me and Rheave.
“A little more than thirty, in the end,” I say, the memory of the freed daimon, the delight that crossed their faces at realizing they could make their own decisions, softening a little of the turmoil inside me.
Rheave sighs. “There were a few who were still too deeply under the scourge sorcerers’ spell for us to break them out of it. But their hold has weakened a lot.”
Petra smiles at him. “That’s wonderful. I suppose we can hope that within the coming days and weeks, some of them will start to emerge from the Order’s influence on their own.”
She pauses and seems to gird herself. “Not that we can wait on that possibility.”
She’s going to put herself on display in front of many of the same people who cheered at the thought of my death just last night. A shiver travels down my spine.
Our fellow citizens have to see that she’s meant to rule. It’s in her blood, her training—and every honorable, determined word she says.
If we can pull together our trials in no time flat.
I attempt to offer a reassuring smile. “We’ve laid the groundwork.”
“Yes.” She brushes her hands over the skirt of her riding dress and glances back at her guards. “We haven’t yet determined the best approach for a few of the godlen’s domains, have we? I’d appreciate you giving that matter as much thought as you can—what you think would prove my strengths as a ruler. We also need to solidify our strategies for preventing the Order from doing any harm during the tests—how you’ll all factor in. I’ll return this afternoon with Tinom so you can fill each of us in on the parts we’re meant to hear.”
My gut lurches. She still wants me contributing to the trials somehow—even helping orchestrate them on the actual day?
The words tumble out before I can think better of them. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Petra shoots me a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
I motion helplessly with my hands, the weight of all my failures pressing on my lungs. “Should I be involved in the trials—or anything else you’re doing—in any direct way at this point? Just the fact that people know you’ve had a riven sorcerer on your side, that I’ve supported you, is hurting your cause.”
My voice falters, but I force myself onward to the inevitable conclusion. “You should probably remove yourself completely from any hint of an alliance with me. Forsake any past connections.”
My chest clenches even tighter with those statements, as true as they are. If Petra sets herself apart from the riven—if she claims she didn’t realize what I am and that she’s now set herself apart from me—maybe there won’t be too much fallout in the public’s opinion of her.
But if she does that, it’ll be even harder for her to turn around and speak up on the behalf of riven sorcerers later. I don’t know how long it’d be before she could broach the subject of our origins.
Possibly never.
The future queen considers me for long enough that my skin itches with uncertainty. “I never took you for someone who’d give up and abandon a cause that easily.”
The accusation stings. I can’t hold back my instinctive response. “I’m not giving up—I’m not abandoning you. I’m trying to help you.”
“By refusing to help me any further.”
“By—by refusing to harm you any further.”
My arms come up to hug myself. Casimir rests a gentle hand on my shoulder, and Rheave stirs behind me with a noise of concern, but I have to say this. The thoughts have been rattling around in my head since my mother first raised her voice to the crowd in Florian.
“I’ve tainted your legacy. I might have done more damage to the cause than good.” A raw chuckle escapes me. “That’s how it always seems to go.”
Trying to save someone only to cause a worse catastrophe isn’t exactly new to me.
Alek’s lips part where he’s standing by the doorway behind Petra, but she speaks before he can. “I should be the judge of that. I still want you standing with me. Most of what Lothar is spreading is lies.”
“Lies the people believe. You didn’t see them last night while my mother told them what a monster I am.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to make a public exhibition of yourself.”
“I don’t need to appear before them to be a problem.” I spread my hands. “I’ve just divided your allies, simply by existing. I’ve created discord right when we need to be as united as possible.”
Petra grimaces. “You didn’t cause that—Lothar did.”
“And he only could because of what I am.”
“Ivy—”
Before she can go on, Sulla steps in with a gesture for attention.
Petra falls silent. We both stare at the older woman, me with my hands clenching where they’re tucked against my sides.
She’s going to tell Petra she agrees with me. Maybe even suggest that she whisk me all the way back to the Haven where I’ll be completely out of the?—
Instead, my former mentor faces me. Her voice comes out unexpectedly soft. “I might have only arrived a few days ago. I might not have witnessed most of what you’ve accomplished directly. But I’ve seen and heard enough to feel sure when I say that I was wrong, Ivy. You’ve set things right much more than you’ve created new troubles. I—I’m sorry if any of the doubts I expressed before are making you doubt yourself now.”
I gape at her for a second before I manage to reel my jaw in.
Petra jumps into my silence. “She should know, shouldn’t she? You have to listen to us.”
I step back to slump against the wall, a sense of defeat sweeping over me that I can’t totally explain. “I don’t want to make another mistake. Not when the consequences could ruin the entire country.”
“You wouldn’t,” Rheave insists, but of course he’d say that.
Petra hesitates. Then she moves so she’s directly in front of me and waits until I lift my gaze to meet hers.
“Ivy, I won’t force you to stay involved. I won’t give you any royal commands or demand your obedience against your better judgment. That’s not how I want to rule. But you have to know how much everything you’ve done for this country and for my family means to me. And it’s more than that. What kind of reign will I have if it’s founded on old, unfair prejudices? I’m making my stand now—in every way I need to.”
I choke up abruptly. It takes me a moment to recover my tongue. “That means a lot to me too. I want to be ruled by a queen who follows those principles. I just… I don’t know.”
The conflicting desires twined inside me send a lance of pain through me from throat to belly. My arms shift, my hand coming to rest on the spot on my sternum where most people have a godlen mark.
Where the godlen who went out of his way to claim me once marked me temporarily to save my life.
I don’t fully know how I feel about the gods’ role in creating riven magic. I don’t expect Kosmel to step out of the clouds and point the way. He’s never been so blatant with his advice.
But he has offered guidance when I’ve needed it. I can’t say he’s ever led me astray.
If I’m willing to bow down to a mortal queen, maybe I should welcome the gods all the way into my life, into whatever roles they’re meant to fill.
I push myself off the wall and slip over to the cabin doorway. No one moves to stop me, probably waiting to see what I’m up to.
On the threshold, I scan the forest and pick a dense grove of trees several paces from the building, where the shadows lie most thickly.
Kosmel is the master of the shadows, just as I once liked to think I was. If I can find him anywhere, it’ll be there.
I walk to the grove and kneel at the base of the tree trunks. The roots jutting from the soil dig into my shins.
I tip my head up to the patch of gloom cast by the overlapping leaves above me.
Kosmel, I think, sending my mental voice out into the world, you helped me get this far. I don’t know what I’m meant to do now. Have I accomplished everything you hoped for? How should I go forward if I want to see this woman reclaim her throne?
I’m not surprised that my head stays silent. The leaves rustle overhead, and a faint caw reaches my ears, as if a crow has flown nearby.
Then all at once a breeze gusts up and blows through the high branches.
Even as my hair whips around my face with the blast of wind, I take in a sudden burst of light. The leaves sway to the sides, and sunlight pours down where once there was only shadows.
A quiver of understanding runs down the center of me. I keep staring up at the branches as they settle back into place.
Thank you, I say silently.
The sign he sent has left a renewed light in my chest as well. As I get to my feet, an almost giddy sensation tickles through my limbs.
I never really wanted to back away. I’ve fought so long to protect my country.
I want to see that mission through to the end.
I choose my words carefully through the growing thrum of my pulse. “I think… I think I’m meant to show the truth. To help you come out of the shadows so people can see you as you truly are. Which means we need these trials to happen fast, so I’d better start brainstorming.”