Chapter 6
Kiera
I felt like I’d never be warm or dry again.
The sky had turned an endless gray, and the sea along with it. Bursts of rain and cold waves constantly soaked the ship over the next three days.
I rarely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those burning barrels flying toward us. I watched an arrow slam into Bardo’s neck. I felt the cold, dark sea close around me as I swam like a drowning cat.
I remembered sitting in the ship’s dining room after Calimber, trying to thaw my insides with warm soup, when I’d felt a gaze on me. Not a gaze, but a glare of bitterness and rage. I’d thought Aiden might be pleased with what we’d found. Or at least acknowledge that I’d been telling the truth.
But no. He still looked at me as if I were the source of all his problems. He was certainly the source of a lot of mine.
I stood at the front of the ship, facing northwest, where a dark smudge had appeared an hour ago. Loud celebrations had resounded throughout the ship, followed by feverish preparations for landfall at sunset.
But my mind was still in Calimber.
Warships. Warships. Three of them, nearly complete.
What are you doing, Renwell? What do you really want?
No doubt Aiden, Nikella, and the rest of them were already planning on how to destroy my old mentor. Without me. And why would they want me nearby? I was a traitor.
Which was why my time in Dagriel would be short. As soon as I’d rested, I’d beg for a horse and some supplies and make my way back to Rellmira.
Aiden could play at war. And I truly hoped he could defeat Renwell. But I hated to think of Everett and Delysia caught up in whatever Renwell was planning. Seeing his warships and nearly being killed by one was enough to give me the good sense Nikella had mentioned.
Revenge would have to wait.
I needed to sneak into Aquinon, disguised somehow.
Perhaps I could use the tunnel to The Silk Dancer, where, if my luck held, Melaena would keep me hidden.
Then it was just a simple matter of bribing my way through the bridge gate with money I didn’t have and infiltrating a palace filled with Wolves.
I sneered at myself.
Even if I succeeded, the best way to reach my siblings would be through the many secret passageways in the palace, but Renwell surely knew about most of them.
Then we’d have to sneak back out.
My chest tightened with apprehension, and I rubbed it.
“You didn’t come back to visit me.”
I jolted as Maz joined me at the railing, his gaze fixed on the growing smudge that was his homeland.
He looked more like a Dag than I’d ever seen him. He wore a thick fur vest, flaunting his muscular, tattooed arms. His fur-trimmed pants were tucked into similar boots. His golden hair and full beard were longer now, giving him more of the wild look of the other Dags.
“I didn’t think I was welcome to.” I darted a glance behind him to see if one—or all—of his sisters were on his tail. “Should you be out of the infirmary?”
His lips twitched in a frown. “I refuse to arrive back home for the first time in years confined to a cot with my shame on display.”
My forehead pinched. “Oh, Maz, I’m so s—”
“I don’t need your apologies,” he said brusquely. “We’ve all got things to atone for.” He looked down at me, a slight quirk of his mouth belying the hardness in his eyes. “I’d prefer you tell me a story. A true one.”
I nodded. “What would you like to hear about?”
“Tell me of your brother and sister—Everett and Delysia, was it?”
My eyes burned, and I faced Dagriel to hide the sudden emotion. No one else had asked me about them. No one else seemed to care about them. And for the first time, I could tell someone the truth as their sister, not their fake personal guard.
“Thank you,” I whispered to the wind. Maz dipped his head in acknowledgment.
“Delysia is my younger sister. She’s beautiful, like our mother was.
Everett is more serious and looks more like .
. . well . . . he looks like himself. He loves our library and studying, but Delysia never cared for it much.
” I smiled. “One time, Delysia got me to play a trick on Everett . . .”
I talked and talked, the words coming easier than they had in days. Happy words. Hopeful words. No scheming or double talking. No agenda.
It struck me then that I was never cut out to be a spy. The waiting, the lies, the loneliness, the regrets. I never wanted it, and I was glad to strip that part of myself away and leave it behind.
I still wanted justice. I still sought the truth. But I no longer wanted to do so from the shadows.
Gods only knew if I’d ever get that chance.
Maz listened, leaning his forearms on the railing, chuckling during some parts, asking questions in others. All out of seemingly innocent curiosity.
Then he mentioned my mother.
“I met Brielle a few times,” he said, staring at a place beyond the ship’s bow I couldn’t see. “She was lovely, a warrior in silk.”
My throat caught.
Maz glanced at me, his eyes softening. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there that night. A boy died in my place. Loss is never simple.”
I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to ask him everything he knew, every detail of his encounters with Mother. But fear and anger and a dozen nameless emotions clogged my throat.
Because he was right. Loss was never simple.
Sigrid called for Maz just then, slicing through the taut thread of regret between us.
But before he left, he briefly rested his hand on my shoulder.
“Knowing the part I played in your sorrow—the reason you saw us as enemies—eases the pain of the part you played in mine. But we Dags are a proud lot. We fight as hard as we love, and we never surrender on either front. If someone turns their back on us . . .” He shook his head.
“However, it brings me some comfort to know my gut”—he patted his flat stomach—“was always right.”
On that cryptic note, he sauntered away.
I let loose a fractured breath, but the emotions remained, scratching at my insides.
My eyes caught on a dark figure leaning against the railing several feet away, his face angled toward Dagriel.
Aiden. Had he been listening?
I whirled away, fists clenched. Gods, I hated showing him any weakness, like I had when I admitted I couldn’t swim.
He didn’t deserve to learn about the family he’d torn apart and abandoned. He had enough weapons to use against me. All the more reason to go back to Aquinon as soon as possible.
Another day or two, and I’d never have to see him again.
As we neared the shores of Dagriel, the sun broke through the gray blanket of sky.
My lips parted in wonder as I drank it all in. I’d never traveled anywhere. This was my first time outside Rellmira, or really Aquinon.
The land was so different here. A thick blanket of furry, pointed trees and others with white trunks and shockingly golden leaves covered the rocky shores.
In the distance, huge snow-capped mountains rose to the sky. I’d only ever seen them drawn in books, and no picture could do them justice.
The air was crisp and sweet as if it’d just rained, releasing all the scents of the earth.
A loud shout arose as we rounded a bend and came into view of a river mouth where a dozen large boats had lain along the black shore like dry fish.
What looked like a hundred Dags waved and called out. Children in fur capes shrieked with joy and chased each other around the rocks. Huge dogs barked and splashed in the surf, long pink tongues lolling.
The Dags on the ship shouted and waved back, Maz and his sisters loudest of all. Even the grieving bone-rattlers smiled at such a raucous welcome.
A strange sense of longing pinched my chest. So many people who were so happy to see each other. What must that be like?
Skelly commanded his crew to lower the anchor and prepare the remaining rowboats. The bone-rattlers hurried to do his bidding, but didn’t climb into them. Perhaps they preferred their rollicking tub to solid ground.
Aiden and Nikella loaded the first boats with the wounded, taking great care not to jostle them. The rest of the Dags impatiently waited their turn.
This time, I didn’t fight my way to a boat. Instead, I clambered down the rope ladder into the last one. A Dag woman wrenched the oar out of my pale hand and propelled us to shore.
The distance across the water was mercifully short. I practically flung myself onto dry land with a sigh of relief. But now it was the dark shore that pitched beneath my feet. I half-sank, half-fell to my knees, grasping the smooth, wet pebbles between my fingers.
The Dags were still making a world of noise, but now cries of sorrow and sobbed names reached my ears. Tears glistened on almost everyone’s cheeks, of relief, of sadness—I couldn’t tell. Perhaps all of it. The Dags seemed to be a people who felt everything out in the open with each other.
Delysia had hugged me at Mother’s funeral, and Everett had held my hand. But we’d saved our tears for the privacy of our bedrooms. Away from Father’s disapproving eyes.
“That bitch should’ve died on the executioner’s stand like the traitor she was!”
Murdering bastard. I hoped he wandered the Longest Night even now, stalked by his demons.
A sharp stab of pain made me glance down. One of the rocks I clutched had sliced open my palm. Blood trickled onto the wet beach, disappearing quickly.
“That means you’re one of us now,” said a raspy voice.
I looked up and met the bright blue eyes of an old woman, her moon-white hair in several long braids and a life’s worth of smile lines on her weathered cheeks.
She wore similar clothing to the others, but with a white fur cape around her shoulders and beribboned staff in her hand.
She extended her other hand to me. “My grandson, Mazkull, tells me you are Kiera, late of Aquinon. I am Frieda, head of the Yargoth Clan.”
Maz’s grandmother? The one who gave him romantic advice? I didn’t know she was the leader of the clan.
Dazedly, I laid my bleeding palm on hers and stood up. “I’m happy to meet you,” I fumbled out.
She smiled, and I saw Maz and his sisters in her eyes. Her attention fell to the knife sheathed at my waist. I tensed. Could she tell it was a sunstone knife? The Dags probably wouldn’t like that I carried the weapon of their enemies. But I refused to part with it.
“Come,” she said suddenly, beckoning. “There are stories to share, songs to sing, and food to eat.”
That sounded gods-damned amazing. The last part, anyway. And hopefully, there was a warm, dry bed in the plans as well.
I followed Frieda like a lost bird who’d fallen from its nest.
Everyone piled into the Dag boats or rode ahead on a pack of horses. I spotted Aiden’s dark head among the riders that galloped off.
That bothersome loneliness nipped at me once more.
Until Maz waved me over to his boat. Gratefully, I scurried in and tried to ignore the curious stares of the Dag strangers.
Yarina, with her arm still in a sling, gave me a short nod.
Sigrid and Davka ignored me, but that was better than outright hostility.
Maz must’ve tamed their anger toward me somehow.
I settled onto a middle bench. The Dag boats were long and narrow, with curved ends—larger than that of Skelly’s rowboats. Frieda stood at the front and gave the order to row.
I braced myself for another wave of sickness, but none came. The Dags rowed in perfect unison. The boat glided up the river as though it were made of glass.
Maz tapped my shoulder, then pointed at our surroundings. “This is the Yargoth River, which leads to our camp, but also splits north toward Arduen’s Mountain. The pine trees stay green in every season, but those white aspens burn gold close to Terraum’s Harvest.”
He continued speaking, and I soaked in every word. Not just the knowledge, but that he was talking to me at all. He’d said it would be hard to forgive me, but perhaps this was his way of moving toward that.
A few of the other Dags chipped in with their own facts and stories, eager to show off their home.
Thundering hooves caught my attention, and I glanced over to see Aiden on a black horse riding at breakneck speed.
They wove on a path between the trees like they were one spirit.
The other Dags raced to catch up with him, whooping and grinning.
They shouted challenges to each other and waved to the boats.
But my eyes stayed on Aiden, my breath stuck in my chest. He rode as if his horse would sprout wings at any moment and fly.
“Ah,” Maz said in my ear. “That’s Wicked, Aiden’s horse. I figured those two would be inseparable as soon as they saw each other.”
Our paths bent away from each other, and Aiden disappeared among the trees.
I frowned. “Wicked?”
Maz nodded. “My father bought him just before he died, and the horse became very difficult to tame. Yarina named him Wicked because he remained ill-tempered until I brought Aiden home with me. Those two bonded over several weeks and became inseparable. I imagine Wicked was quite distraught about Aiden’s absence over the last few years. ”
“He was,” Yarina grumbled. “Cantankerous animal wasn’t good for anything but carrying supplies. Even then, he’d try to take a bite out of you.”
I licked my lips, knowing my next question could set back our tentative alliance. “What happened to your parents?”
Yarina turned away, but Maz’s expression merely grew sad. “Our mother passed from a lung sickness when I was ten. Our father died at the hands of a Rellmiran border patrol.”
“Raiding party is more like it,” Yarina snarled, still not looking at me.
Maz nodded, his face grim. “Shortly after, I gathered some of our warriors to hunt the Rellmirans down, but we were captured and . . . and thrown into the sunstone mine.”
“Oh,” I whispered. “That’s awful.”
I’d known that Maz and Aiden had met in the sunstone mine and escaped together, but I hadn’t known why Maz was imprisoned there.
Why were so many children doomed to lose their parents in such unjust ways? It bred nothing but resentment and revenge.
If only there was a better way. A better king or queen who protected their citizens instead of using them and who sought friendship with neighbors instead of trying to steal what wasn’t theirs.
Aiden, the true Rellmiran heir, emerged in my thoughts. But I tossed him back out. He would never be my king. Rellmira needed someone without blood on his hands.
An argument broke out just then as Maz tried to take over one of the oars, and his uncle or cousin—I couldn’t remember which—gently shoved him back to his seat. Yarina butted in, saying she could row one-handed, and they refused her as well.
I offered to row, but was met with quirked eyebrows and shaken heads. Which suited me fine. I didn’t know if I could keep up with their perfect rhythm.
The last bit of light had bled from the sky when Maz suddenly grabbed my arm. “This is it, lovely. We’re home.”