Chapter 34
The land slowly morphed from marshes to jungles.
Their passage through the swampy landscape was slow but steady.
Sebastian’s Kreah horse had shied away from the splashing pools at first, but their escort—two quiet rangers from Sunil’s tribe—led them away from the worst of the wetlands.
They plodded along a somewhat dry road that wound through the still waters, insects buzzing around their heads.
Sebastian couldn’t understand why people would want to live here, where his clothes and skin felt constantly damp. To each their own, he supposed.
They’d been traveling for two days. The scraggly trees that had dominated the landscape since they’d crossed from Kreah were starting to grow taller, their roots stretching deeper. The ground was less moist, the road firmer beneath their horse’s hooves and the wagon’s wheels.
But the air…Sebastian shifted uncomfortably in his saddle, wiping a bead of moisture from his brow.
The humidity here might kill him.
Ciana rode beside him, face set into a deep scowl. Her curly hair was both pressed to her face in damp ringlets and doubled in volume around the crown of her head. Sebastian had to bite back the urge to chuckle.
He had a feeling she would jump from her horse and slap him if he so much as made a sound.
“Gods,” Quentin grumbled from behind them. “I think I preferred the desert to this.”
“I do not want to hear a lick of complaining from you, Quentin,” Ciana shot at him. Sebastian buried his face in his sleeve to hide his grin.
“I think the frizz is a good look for you, Cee! The king is going to love it—ow.” Quentin’s words died with a soft thump, and Ciana twisted back in her saddle, a satisfied look on her face.
Sebastian didn’t bother hiding his smile now. “What was that?”
She shrugged. “Some nut I pulled off a tree earlier. I knew I’d need to shut Quentin up at some point today.”
He chuckled softly. “Brilliant. And nice aim.”
“Thanks,” Ciana said, giving him a small smile.
Sebastian opened his mouth, ready to say more, but froze as Quentin’s words finally caught up to him.
The king is going to love it.
What, exactly, had Quentin meant by that? Was he speaking of the Vathan King? Sebastian turned back to Ciana, the question already forming on his lips.
She met his stare then glanced away quickly, throat bobbing with a swallow as color flushed her cheeks. Sebastian closed his mouth, tightening his grip on his reins.
Ciana was keeping something from him. Something to do with the king. He’d suspected as much when Delaynie had told Sunil that they had an offer for the king he couldn’t refused. Whatever it was, Delaynie must’ve shared with Quentin.
Why had they left Sebastian in the dark?
He returned his gaze to the road ahead, vowing to talk to Ciana about it this evening when they would hopefully have a bit more privacy than what their travels could afford.
The rising roar of a river pulled him from his anxious thoughts. Ahead, their road veered sharply to the left, a break in the thickening trees revealing the rushing waters.
They pulled their horses to a halt, the beasts’ ears flicking curiously toward the raging river. One of the Idrixian rangers pointed at the river.
“The River Amfait marks the border between Idrix and Vatha,” he said, voice deep and muffled behind his cloth mask. “As part of our truce, we cannot cross it.”
Ciana leaned forward, the leather of her saddle creaking, and she looked up and down the rushing river. “That’s great,” she said, “but how do we?”
The ranger turned to his companion. Together they moved to the riverbank, bracing their feet against boulders that broke from the ground.
They lifted their hands and the ground began to shake.
Sebastian’s horse whinnied and shuffled back, ears flickering nervously. The others did the same, Ciana whispering soft words to her mare as she ran a hand down her neck.
A low boom shook the trees, and earth burst from the ground between the rangers.
It was made of all kinds of organic material: rocks and roots and soil and vines.
It wound together as it arched across the river, growing and growing both in length and width.
There was another shudder as the mass dived into the soil on the other side of the bank, burrowing deep into the ground, wrapping around the trees, roots twining together into one.
The rangers lowered their hands and they gestured to Ciana.
“A bridge,” the first said pointedly, as if that were all the explanation needed.
His mouth dry and jaw slack, Sebastian flicked his gaze from the ranger to Ciana. Her amber eyes reflected all the shock that coursed through him.
So that was what Ydros’s gifts could do.
Sebastian slid from his horse, landing on shaky legs.
The bridge was at least six feet wide—more than enough for the cart and their horses to pass—and cleared the river by several feet. But there were no railings, nothing to keep them from tumbling into the roaring water below.
He gripped his horse’s reins, sharing a glance with Quentin, Delaynie, and then Ciana. They had all similarly dismounted, waiting for his lead.
Sebastian turned back to the rangers. “How will the Vathans know we have arrived?”
The second ranger snorted but fell silent from a glance from the first. “They will not,” the first said simply. “But there is an outpost a few miles from the river. Follow the path on the other side; it will take you there. Tell the guards your business and they will guide you to the capital.”
Sebastian nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “The generosity of your people will not go unanswered by our queen.”
The ranger said nothing. Only gestured again to the bridge.
All right, then. Time to leave Idrix behind.
With a final glance at Ciana, questions still burning in his chest, Sebastian straightened his shoulders and led them across the river.
Sebastian didn’t breathe again until their feet all touched the riverbank in Vatha.
The earthen bridge had been solid, but the narrow width and lack of rails had raised the hairs along his arms. They’d gone in a single file, their horses nervous and nickering but trusting. Water from the raging rapids misted their faces, the roar swallowing up any words they tried to shout.
The wheels of their small wagon finally rolled onto the bank. Sebastian and Quentin shared a look, then glanced back across the river.
The two rangers still waited there, once again lifting their hands. The ground again trembled. The bridge pulled from the riverbank with a great shudder, shrinking across the river. It sank back into the soil, the rangers’ magic heavy in the air.
The lead ranger gave them a short, final nod, then he and his companion vanished into the trees.
“All of that,” Quentin grumbled, “and we couldn’t see just one Ephalant?”
Delaynie groaned, the wagon creaking as she stepped back into the seat. “Not with the Ephalant’s again. This is almost as bad as the sphinxes.”
Quentin settled himself on the bench beside her. “I’m just saying. There’s no way they’re all extinct.”
Sebastian didn’t hear the rest of their conversation. He turned to his horse, resituating the reins over the gelding’s neck. Gripping the smooth leather, he pulled himself into the saddle.
“Sebastian?”
He turned, meeting a pair of wide amber eyes. Ciana had also mounted her horse, hands nervously twisting in the reins.
Always nervous. He hated that she felt that way still, even when it was just him.
He had to fix that. There had to be something he could do to make her more comfortable, to realize that he would always be a safe space for her—
“Seb?”
He winced, realizing he never answered her. Her brow was lifted and she watched him curiously. “Yes, sorry,” he said. “What’s the matter?”
Ciana’s lips twitched, like she was holding back a grin. “Ride with me for a bit? I want to chat.” She clicked softly to her mare, and they started forward.
Sebastian’s skin prickled, but he followed.
They rode some distance behind the wagon, far enough that Quentin’s meaningless chatter could only barely be heard over their horses’ hooves and the wagon’s churning wheels.
The road was smooth and well-maintained, the footing even and cleared of fallen debris.
The trees on this side of the river—the Vathan side—were taller, denser, older than the ones they’d left behind in Idrix.
The canopies arched high over them, weaving together to form a nearly impenetrable tangle of branches and leaves.
Only speckles of sunlight shone through, dappling the road.
“So,” Sebastian said after a long moment. “What did you want to talk about?”
Ciana shifted in her saddle. Something like solid steel crept into her amber eyes. “Now that we’re in Vatha,” she said, “I need to tell you what Mariah has asked of me here.”
Confusion licked through Sebastian. “What do you mean?” he said. He tightened a muscle in his jaw. “Does this have to do with what Quentin said earlier? About the king?”
Ciana glanced at him, a blush staining high on her cheeks. “It does,” she murmured. She straightened her shoulders. “The Vathan’s guard their archives close. Only those they trust are permitted access.”
“Yes,” Sebastian said. “We’re aware of that. But what does that have to do with you?”
Ciana swallowed. “Mariah has asked me to…get close to the king. To become someone he trusts enough to be granted access to the archives.” She hesitated, fingers fidgeting with her reins. “She also told me that the king is unmarried and interested in courting.”
Something dropped in Sebastian’s stomach.
His throat, maybe? Or his heart?
“What do you mean.” This time, it wasn’t a question. It was a growled statement.
How could Mariah ask this of her? His queen knew Ciana’s past, knew all the ways she’d been used and hurt and torn apart.
Ciana’s stare turned biting. “You know exactly what I mean, Sebastian.”
“So, you’re telling me,” Sebastian said slowly, fighting to keep his voice steady, “that Mariah sent you here not only to get into the Vathan Archives, but to do so by courting the gods-damned king?”
“Yes.”
“And you agreed to this?” He couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice. It was insanity, truly. What were any of them thinking?
“I did.” Ciana’s words were like rigid metal. “I’m ready, Sebastian. I can do this. I know I can.”
Something about the firmness in her tone made him pause. She sat straight in her saddle, her eyes locked on his. Her grip on her reins was tight, but she looked resolved. He could find no trace or flicker of fear or uncertainty on her—no flash of terror that would rear its ugly head.
He was still angry. Still fuming at the callousness of Mariah’s request. But maybe Ciana really did feel ready.
She’d placed so much trust in him. Didn’t he owe it to her to at least try to do the same?
Sebastian drew in a deep breath, holding it in his lungs for a long moment before releasing it through his teeth.
“Okay,” he said. “Then just answer one more question.”
She cocked her head, waiting.
“Is this what you want to do?” he asked quietly. “Forget Mariah, forget our task, forget the war and the gods. Forget all of it. I want to know from you, Ciana.” Her lips parted at her name. “Do you choose this?”
She was silent for a moment, and in that space, Sebastian allowed himself to hope that she would say no.
If she did, he would turn them around right now without another word. They would return to Kreah empty-handed, and if Mariah wanted access to the archives so badly, she could go herself.
“Yes.” Ciana’s response was filled with resolve, squashing the last of Sebastian’s blooming hope as quickly as it had blossomed. “I choose this.” Her expression softened. “But I can only do it with you by my side.”
Sebastian sighed—a heavy, wanton exhalation. He was a good man, he reminded himself. Mariah had sent him with her to be her guard, even though she’d withheld the full scope of their task from him.
He had to trust Ciana. She deserved that much from him. If it meant putting aside his own selfish desires, then so be it.
This sort of thing is what motivated him. This was who he was. This was who he would always be.
Wasn’t it?
“I’ll always be by your side, Cee. You never have to worry about that.”
Ahead of them, Quentin pulled the wagon to a halt. “Oi, Sebastian!”
“Stay here,” Sebastian murmured to Ciana before pressing his heels to his horse’s flank.
He saw why Quentin had stopped.
Three armored guards stood beside a stone building, their horses tied to a post.
Sebastian raised a hand in the air in greeting. He forced his conversation with Ciana to the back of his mind, the mask of the perfectly mannered Armature slipping into place.
“We come on behalf of the Queen of Onita,” he called. “And we seek an audience with the King of Vatha.”
Here goes nothing, he thought.