Page 17 of Stormcaster


  Bayar gazed at him for a long moment. “Perhaps so,” he said. He delivered another brief bow to Ash. “Your Highness.” And he walked away, his robes swirling around him.

  “He had such high hopes for me,” Finn said in a flat voice, looking after the High Wizard. “He doesn’t understand that I’ve changed. He thinks I don’t know what I’m doing, but I do.”

  “Don’t let it bother you,” Ash said, instantly on Finn’s side. Anyone in opposition to Bayar was an ally. “What’s this about a betrothal? Who’s the bride-to-be?”

  Finn brightened, looking over Ash’s shoulder. “Here she comes now.”

  Ash turned to see his cousin Julianna striding toward them, lit up like Solstice. She’d changed as well. In contrast to the frilly clothes Aunt Mellony used to dress her in, she wore a long wool skirt and a tailored jacket. Her hair was wound into a twist on the back of her head.

  He’d always thought of her as something of a lightweight, but now she looked like someone who could get things done.

  “Cousin!” she said, embracing him. “I see you’ve found my fiancé.”

  Ash stood like a stump, rooted to the floor, but Julianna had enough enthusiasm for both of them. After a moment, she held him out at arm’s length, laughing. “You look like you’ve been run over by a cart,” she said. “I hope you approve?”

  “Of course I approve,” Ash said. “I just . . . I never realized . . . you and Finn?” He remembered what his mother had said. You think time stops at home while you grow and change.

  “It’s very recent news,” Julianna said, splaying her hand in front of Ash’s face, showing off her emerald ring. “So you’re not too far behind everyone else. I’ve asked Alyssa to stand up with us, and I hope . . .” She glanced at Finn, then back at Ash. “It might not be my place to ask, but I hope you will, too. Now that you’re back from the dead.”

  “From dead to living,” Finn said. “I think you’ve changed more than anyone. And of course I would be honored to have you as part of our celebration, if you are still here.”

  Another dig?

  No, Ash thought. Not from Finn. You’ve got to grow a thicker skin, sul’Han, if you’re going to see subtext in every remark.

  “My mother’s made it clear that she’s not letting me out of her sight for a good while,” Ash said, grimacing.

  “Can you blame her?” This was a new voice, a clan voice, coming from behind. Ash turned to see Fire Dancer, possibly his father’s oldest friend. He was a little more weathered than before, but blessedly familiar.

  “Dancer!” he said. “I—I heard about Cat. I am so sorry.”

  “Catfire went down fighting, which is the way she would have wanted it,” Dancer said, using her upland name. “The time for your Naeming has come and gone. Are you still Speaks to Horses? Or have you taken a new name since you went away?”

  “I’ve taken many new names,” Ash said, “but I’ve not let go of that one yet.”

  “Then perhaps we can do that at midsummer,” Dancer said. “When you’ve decided what your name should be.”

  Runs Away? Ash thought. Flees the Field?

  “I heard about Shadow’s fiancée,” Ash said in a low voice. “Is he here?”

  With that, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Adrian spun, his hand automatically finding his amulet, until he saw that it was Shadow Dancer, a cup in his hand.

  “I am here, Speaks to Horses,” Shadow said. “It does my heart good to see that you are quicker than you used to be.” His words were thick, and Ash caught the scent of blue ruin on his breath.

  “And you are slower than you should be,” Fire Dancer said, taking the cup from his son’s hand and setting it on a nearby table. He nodded at both of them before he walked away.

  “Better slow than dead,” Shadow said, gazing after his father.

  “I heard about your betrothed,” Ash said, not wanting to dance around the topic. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Everyone is,” Shadow said. “And, now, even my revenge has been stolen from me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Somebody got to the king of Arden before I did,” Shadow said, retrieving his cup and draining it. “Killing him was the only thing I had to look forward to.” He thumped his cup down on the table. When he turned back to Ash, he frowned. “What?”

  “N-nothing,” Ash said. “Let’s just celebrate the fact that he’s dead. Maybe this will be an opportunity for peace.”

  “Southerners killed my mother and my fiancée,” Shadow said. “There is a huge blood debt that has not yet been paid.”

  “Collecting on a blood debt is never as satisfying as you think it will be,” Ash said, feeling like the worst kind of hypocrite.

  “How do you know?” Shadow growled. “Flatlanders murdered your father and sister, and they tried to murder you. Haven’t you ever wanted to take revenge?”

  “Of course,” Ash said, wishing he could extricate himself from this awkward conversation. “But if the war goes on, there’s a cost. We’ve already spent a fortune in blood and treasure. We’ll always have reasons to keep fighting, but maybe there are reasons to stop.”

  “I’m not ready to stop,” Shadow said, “until they pay for what they’ve done. Then I will be ready to talk about peace.” He refilled his cup. “We had a visitor this afternoon who wants us to get in bed with Arden for mutual defense. If I have my way, that will never happen.”

  “A visitor?” Ash said, grateful for this partial change of subject. “An emissary from Arden?”

  Shadow shook his head. “A pirate from Carthis. I don’t think he was going to admit it, but Hadley DeVilliers recognized him. Remember her? She’s commander of the navy now. Anyway, she says he surfaced two or three years ago, and has been working the entire east coast, down to the Southern Islands and beyond. She wasn’t sure how many ships he controls, but shipping has taken a huge hit.”

  A pirate from Carthis? Ash’s mouth had gone dry, and yet it was as if he tasted blood, metallic on his tongue. “Why would a pirate from Carthis involve himself in our war?”

  Shadow laughed. “He wants to involve us in his war. He came to warn us that an empress from Carthis was planning to invade with a huge army. He claims that he just came from Ardenscourt, where he managed to prevent an agreement between Arden and the empress.”

  “He just came . . . from Ardenscourt?”

  Shadow nodded. “We think that he and this empress must be rivals, and he wants to poison us against her.”

  Ash cleared his throat. “What was his name, this visitor?”

  “His name is Evan Strangward,” Shadow said. “He’s known as the Stormcaster.” He paused, frowning. “What is it? Do you know him?”

  “Where is he now?” Adrian demanded, his heart thumping painfully. “He hasn’t left the city, has he?”

  “I don’t believe so,” Shadow said. He looked over Ash’s shoulder. “In fact, he just walked in with your mother.”

  22

  QUEENS AND KNAVES

  “You should get dressed now,” Evan said to Brody. “We don’t want to be late.”

  His first mate was stripped down to his smallclothes, sprawled across a delicate velvet chair that looked like it might collapse under his weight at any moment. He was distracting, as always, but in a distant way, like a platter of sweetmeats after a feast.

  “We should go home now, Captain,” Brody said. “You’ve had your meeting with the queen and her crew. She’ll decide what she decides. The longer we stay, the more likely it is that we’ll get into trouble. I don’t like being so far from the sea.”

  Brody was right—they’d had their meeting with the queen and her small council that afternoon. Hadley DeVilliers introduced them without a hint of endorsement. There were several other mages present, including the High Wizard, Micah Bayar, and a healer, Lord Vega. The wetlanders had been polite enough, but they’d questioned and debated him on every detail. When he told them he’d seen Celestine’s ships off their coast,
they shrugged and said that pirates had been a problem for years. When he warned them that the empress in the east had all but conquered the Desert Coast and was preparing to invade the wetland realms, they said they’d been fighting off invaders for decades. Besides, pirates knew better than to venture too far from the sea. Fierce, fearless, unstoppable desert horselords? They’ll freeze to death in the mountains.

  One uplander in particular, Shadow Dancer, seemed convinced that Evan was trying to persuade the Fells to get involved in his personal feud.

  They saved their deepest skepticism for his suggestion that the Fells seek peace with Arden so that they could join forces against Celestine.

  “Captain Strangward,” Queen Raisa said finally, “we must direct our resources to the war we have. If another war comes to us, we’ll fight that one, too. As for suing for peace, you should be speaking with the young king in the south. We did not start this war, but we intend to finish it. We do not intend to bend the knee, and we do not intend to lose—to anyone.”

  The meeting had been disappointing, to say the least. And then, hours later, this invitation to a reception. It had rekindled Evan’s hope that something had changed, that somehow he could come away with an agreement.

  “The queen invited us to this reception,” Evan said. “It would be rude to refuse. It is in honor of the queen’s son, who has come home after a long absence, so it will be a chance to meet him. Maybe we can win him over. Anyway, parties are often where important business gets done at court.”

  “What do you know about how queens do business?”

  “It’s in books,” Evan said. “I’ve read about it.”

  “You’re always reading,” Brody said, like it was an accusation. “I don’t trust the wolf queen.”

  “That’s fair, because she doesn’t trust us.”

  “If she intended to do business with us, she would have shown you more respect in the meeting.”

  “You are the one who needs to show some respect, youngling,” Teza said. “Your job is to follow orders, not to argue with the captain.”

  “It’s not that the queen doesn’t respect us,” Evan said. “I think it’s exhaustion, more than anything. They’ve been fighting this war for more than twenty-five years. The queendom is surrounded by enemies. They really don’t need more bad news. Their resources are stretched to the limit.”

  “That’s not our fault,” Brody pointed out.

  “No, it’s not, but that doesn’t make them eager to take on one more complication. The thing is, I don’t want to leave without a commitment from her. It’s not like we have an ambassador here who will follow up after we’re gone.”

  “And if she won’t commit?” Brody said.

  “She has to.” This was their best option, because it was their only option.

  “She doesn’t have to do anything,” Brody said. “We’ll freeze to death while we wait.”

  “If you’d put on some clothes, you’d be warmer,” Evan said.

  “I don’t like wearing so many clothes,” Brody protested. But he levered himself out of the chair, retrieved his shirt from where he’d dropped it on the floor, and slipped it on.

  “I’d like to go to a party,” Jorani said wistfully, smoothing the skirts of her silk dress. She’d been closemouthed and wide-eyed ever since they arrived at the palace.

  “You can come to the next one,” Evan said. “Especially if Brody keeps complaining.”

  They were met at the palace gate by a handful of the queen’s blue-coated guards, who escorted them to a small reception hall.

  As soon as they were ushered through the doorway, Evan recognized several people from the meeting earlier in the day. As the queen had promised, this was an intimate, informal gathering. The queen herself was welcoming newcomers and directing them to food and drink.

  “Captain Strangward,” she said graciously. “I’m glad that you and Brody were able to come and celebrate with us.” She stood on tiptoe, scanning the crowd. “I know Adrian is here somewhere, no doubt catching up with old friends. Ah. There he is. Come with me.” The queen led him toward the back of the room, to where the uplander, Shadow Dancer, waited with a tall, broad-shouldered young mage wearing an elaborately stitched coat and a scowl.

  “Adrian, this is Evan Strangward, from Carthis. Lord Strangward, this is my son, Adrian sul’Han.”

  But no, it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Evan found himself looking into the icy blue-green eyes of the king of Arden’s gifted healer, Adam Freeman.

  “We’ve met, Mother,” Freeman said through his teeth. He gripped his amulet. “Step away from the queen, you murderous bastard.”

  Evan saw no point in denying who he was, or forcing the hand of the Queen’s Guard by refusing. He’d have to talk fast if he wanted to survive the night.

  “Healer,” he said, taking two steps away from the wolf queen and keeping his hands at his sides. “I’m glad to see that you survived that unpleasantness at Ardenscourt.”

  “What unpleasantness?” the queen said, looking from Evan to the healer and back again. “What’s this about Ardenscourt?”

  “I survived,” Freeman said, still fixed on Evan. “And, unfortunately, you survived. But not everyone did.”

  “Surely you don’t regret killing the king of Arden,” Evan said, taking a blind shot, hoping it hit home. “I can’t imagine that anyone is mourning him on this side of the border.”

  “You killed King Gerard?” It was Shadow Dancer, his body rigid, his eyes wide with surprise.

  “One thing confuses me, though,” Evan said. “In Ardenscourt, I knew you as Adam Freeman.”

  “In Ardenscourt,” the queen said, as if she couldn’t believe her ears. She turned to the healer. “What is he talking about, Adrian?”

  “I told you about Jenna,” the healer said. He pointed at Evan. “This is the man who murdered her.”

  “You said that you met a girl,” the queen said, her back stiff with disapproval. “You didn’t mention that you met this girl in Ardenscourt.”

  “As I told you, it’s a long story.”

  A story that he hasn’t told, up to now, Evan thought. And that gave him an opportunity.

  “The good news is that Jenna is very much alive,” he said. “In fact, I just saw her on the coast, near Chalk Cliffs.”

  “Chalk Cliffs,” the healer repeated. Hope flickered in his eyes for a moment. “Why would she be in Chalk Cliffs, and how would she get there?”

  “Apparently, Chalk Cliffs is the place to be,” Evan said. “We did not have a long conversation, because she was accompanied by a large and surly dragon. They flew off together.”

  The hope in the healer’s eyes was crowded off by disbelief and hostility. He shook his head, dismissing Evan, and turned to the queen. “So. What story is this pirate telling you?”

  The wolf queen folded her arms, as if to fend off lies from pirates and errant sons. “He says he came to warn us about an empress from across the Indio who may be planning to attack the Realms. He claimed that the entire east coast was at risk.”

  “Interesting,” the healer said. “Just a few weeks ago, he was in Ardenscourt, negotiating with the king, and claiming to be the empress’s representative.”

  The look in the wolf queen’s eyes was a familiar one—one Evan had seen on the healer too many times. He resisted the impulse to protect his throat.

  Just then, Shadow Dancer gripped the healer’s arm. “Speaks to Horses,” he said. “What does this Jenna look like?”

  Speaks to Horses? Evan thought. How many names can one person have? I’m a slacker next to him.

  It took the healer a moment or two to tear himself away from the argument. He turned to the uplander and said, “Her hair was wavy, metallic-looking, streaked with copper, and she had golden eyes.”

  Evan noticed that he used the past tense. He doesn’t believe me, he thought.

  “A girl approached me in Middlesea,” Shadow said. “She wanted some leatherwork done. She said her nam
e was Riley, but, from your description, it sounds like the same person.”

  Now the healer’s full attention was on Shadow. “Riley? That was Jenna’s friend when she was little. She sometimes used that name herself.” He looked from Shadow to Evan and back to the uplander. “What kind of leatherwork?”

  “She had drawn a pattern for it, but it was like nothing I’d seen before. It was a harness, but it was huge, and oddly shaped. She claimed she rode the gryphons and elyphants in the circus and needed new gear for a growing gryphon. Sparrow made it, and Riley picked it up in Fortress Rocks.”

  “When was that?”

  “A few weeks ago. I was on my way back from Arden.”

  Evan was beginning to feel a bit superfluous, which was fine with him. The reception was apparently over, and the room had emptied out during their conversation. He began to edge away, but the queen noticed, and raised her hand to stop him.

  “Captain Strangward,” she said. “We need to continue this conversation in a more private place, after I have spoken to my son, and to Shadow Dancer, and collected more information. I hope you will understand that we’ll need to confine you and your crew to your quarters under guard until we can sort out truth from lies.” Her jaw tightened, her eyes as hard and brilliant as emeralds. “Do know that if you came here intending to lead us into some sort of trap, I will deal with you with a hard hand.”

  Evan could sense Brody stiffening behind him. Evan knew that his crewman wanted them to try to fight their way out before the healer shared his story and the upland queen ordered their execution. What Brody didn’t understand was that there was nowhere to run. Evan and his handful of Stormborn couldn’t keep on sailing while Celestine conquered the rest of the world. Even a pirate needs a port, eventually.

  He needed to make a stand and somehow convince the wolf queen that they shared a common enemy. If she ordered him beheaded or incinerated (if he had to choose, he hoped for the former), it would likely be better than whatever Celestine had planned for him. It was some small consolation that, from the looks of things, the wolf queen intended to deal with her son with a hard hand as well.