“Fine.” Isi spoke rigidly, as if she had practiced her words in advance. “I will put my signature to that document, decreeing you lady of the eastern provinces on Tusken’s eighteenth birthday, so long as he is alive and well on that day and living with his parents in Bayern.”
Selia barely flinched, but Rin’s eyes caught it. “A marvelous idea! Well thought. Sign first, and I swear upon the life of my mother that I will add that clause as an addendum.”
“I . . .” Isi shook her head, a tight, small gesture. “Write the addendum first. And I will sign it, after I see my son.”
Selia clicked her tongue in disappointment. “Crown Princess, Crown Princess, now why would I hazard my most valuable possession? As much as I trust my voice soothes your more suicidal instincts, I just don’t know what you might do if Tusken were in this room. I need to keep him away from you so I can return him safely to his father.”
Isi glanced once at Rin before speaking again, her face taxed as though she spoke with effort. “That was clever. What you did. Escaping execution in Bayern.”
“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” Selia smiled at the window as if at a pleasant memory.
“How did you do it?”
Selia looked at Isi with sympathy, and Rin knew she guessed that Isi was trying to get her to reveal some weakness. “It is a marvelous story. I will tell you all about it after you sign.”
Isi pressed her lips together, breathing in through her nose. “I guess you made an offer to your prison guard, though I can’t think of many things you had to offer . . .”
Selia sat up straighter, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, is that what you imagine? You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
“I know you’re capable of escaping death by my hands, but I’ve done the same from yours,” Isi said, her face still down. “I know you’re capable of marrying the king of Kel, just as I married the king of Bayern. So far I haven’t seen you do much that I haven’t done as well.”
Selia stood, her lips trembling. She must have known that Isi was baiting her, must have read those intentions in her old rival as easily as she talked her into submission. But she could not seem to help speaking.
“I am capable of everything, Anidori. Everything! It was all me. You should feel flattered by the lengths I go to get your attention. Even the war was my gift to you.”
Isi scoffed, but Rin knew it was just to provoke Selia more. “You started the war?”
Selia’s smile was condescending, making sure Isi knew she realized her intentions, though she was willing to speak all the same. “After your botched execution, I left Bayern and went south to Tira. I adore Ingridan and genuinely considered marrying the prince there, but he has no true power. Shame. Tira was a lovely place and so enchanted by war, much to my delight. After some prodding on my part, the Assembly was swooning in rapture at the idea of invading Bayern.”
Isi gaped, genuinely shocked, and no reaction could have pleased Selia more. She laughed, clasping her hands to her chest.
“Yes, that was me! It was a wonderful plan, until . . . Enna, was it? Yes, Enna started burning. As you can imagine, I was intrigued by the idea of a person setting fires out of nothing. I spent some time in Yasid and uncovered writings on how to learn the way with fire, bringing them back to Tira. There was a disillusioned Tiran war captain by the name of Ledel who was embarrassingly fond of me. He was thrilled to try and learn the fire way, to teach a band of soldiers too, and simply gushed over my idea of using it to restart the Tiran and Bayern war. I left him to it and journeyed on to Kel, just in case he failed, which he did, poor dear. But no matter, by then I was courting the king of Kel. I have decided war is much too unpredictable. This way is superior, because here we are.”
Isi did not try to hide her shock and anger. That was wise, Rin thought. Selia would see through it anyway.
“You didn’t explain how you freed yourself from the barrel of nails,” Isi said. “I imagine it’s too shameful to repeat.”
Again, fury flashed in Selia’s face, and Rin winced, expecting at the very least thrown chairs and tables. Selia’s eyes were hot, but she remained in control, speaking in fixed, measured phrases.
“It was so ordinary as hardly worth the trouble to mention. I made friends with my guard. I invited him to free me and put some animal in my place. I suggested he be the one to bury the dead animal so no other knew. So devoted he was to me, he did not speak of it all these years, but of course I could not trust him to remain silent forever. And if anyone suspected I was still alive, getting my hands on you and Tusken would prove so much more difficult. Even that loose end is tied up now, thanks to you. I had my hearth-watchers burn that little town in order to lure you out. Geric came instead, but as I’d hoped, my one-time collaborator rode along.”
“Brynn. You had your fire-speakers kill him.”
Selia examined her fingernails. “Was that his name? Of course I had to wound Geric as well so you would come trotting to his rescue. With both you and Geric out of the palace, your darling son would be much easier to carry away. So I thought. But not as easy as if you actually brought him along for the plucking! Many thanks for that, Crown Princess.”
Isi squeezed her eyes shut.
Selia eased into her cushioned chair with a forced calm, the remnants of anger disappearing. “Well. You see how utterly useless it is to fight against me. I have friends in five kingdoms, I have knowledge and understanding you can only guess. And I will win. Submit to me.” She spoke the words like a mother to a baby, encouraging her to rest. “I know you are exhausted; it will be such a relief. Submit to me, and then you will rest and all will be well.”
Isi inhaled deeply, lowered her head, and knelt. With deliberate show, she bowed her body to the floor, her forehead pressed to the rug, her arms stretched out.
It caused Rin an almost physical pain to watch Selia’s satisfaction then, her glory in victory. Rin knew how Selia felt—strong, unique, special, sure that others could not comprehend it, but at the same time, frantic that they know. Rin was sickened now to remember her own rush of elation when she realized how much she could affect Wilem’s actions. She had glowed with the heady sensation that she understood everyone—she could do whatever she desired. How that desire had burned!
Rin was still doubled over from the slam to her gut. Perhaps she’d been wrong to stifle her desire to speak all those years. If she had not fought it, she would be stronger now. She might stop Selia, instead of cowering shackled in a corner, Razo dead, Isi prostrate.
Seeing Isi beside Selia set them into sharp relief. Selia spoke like a queen, ruled and commanded and moved like a queen. But Isi was a queen—even captured, even prone on the floor. It stung a little, to see in Isi what Rin wanted but could not be. But it was liberating too, just to recognize real power. Knowing Isi, Rin did not believe she could ever be tricked into buying Selia’s crooked kind of queenship.
I don’t want to be Selia, Rin thought. Maybe I’m weaker for that, but so be it. I don’t want to be her.
Selia gazed at Isi for some time, then sighed as if regretful to end the moment. “That’s incredibly sweet, Crown Princess, but the submission I requested included your signature on the paper. No more questions. No more stalling. I will see you sign.”
Isi returned to her knees, her eyes glancing at the paper on the table. Her lips were white and trembling, but still she said, “And I will see my son.”
Selia spoke as if to a naughty but adorable child. “Here, I will compromise. That is what a good queen does. I will show you some token of his well-being, all right? Nuala, go request something of the boy’s from Cilie.”
Nuala hurried to the winding stairs, her head bowed. Since her careless and failed killing of Isi, she had lost her self-assured bearing. It made Rin wonder what Selia had done to the woman. Or surely Selia need only speak a few words to tear the confidence from her previously proud follower.
The sounds of Nuala’s footfalls climbed down. So Tusken was not behind th
e locked door. In the garrison then? Rin wondered if Isi would strike now that they had a better idea of her son’s location. But Selia kept talking, her voice sliding over Rin, slithering into her ears, filling her head. Isi’s eyes were closed as if struggling against the noise. She plugged her ears for a moment, but Selia’s voice was high and became even louder, and she soon gave up.
Rin did not bother trying. Her middle still ached as if she’d swallowed herself, and she stared at the thick clamps around her wrists. While she looked, the single metal link joining the two shackles glowed red, then faded. Rin blinked. Again it glowed red, then orange before fading. Isi was working on her chain, sending heat into that ring to weaken it. Trying to help her escape. The thought made Rin sad. For once she did not want to run away—she wished to stay and help.
The ring glowed yellow, then white, the heat burning through the cuffs to Rin’s wrists, and Rin pulled her hands away from each other, the cuffs biting into her skin, the link thinning, lengthening just a little. One of the hearth-watchers muttered something to another, both alert now and looking at Rin. The heat vanished, and Isi ducked her head. The hearth-watchers looked at Selia and whispered to each other, as if trying to decide whether to interrupt Selia. But no fire had erupted to cause alarm, and Isi sent no more heat, though they watched her now with hawk eyes.
Nuala returned with Cilie. Isi’s former waiting woman hurried to Selia’s side, taking in the sight of her mistress with wide, hungry eyes. She handed something to Selia, and when Selia touched her hand to take it, Cilie’s eyes wetted with joy. The display enraged Rin. That pig-eyed woman had betrayed Isi and conspired to kidnap Tusken so she could be Selia’s lap dog? Rin should have pummeled her when she had the chance.
Cilie curtsied deeply and began to walk out of the room backward, never looking away from Selia.
“Wait, Cilie.”
Cilie froze. Selia’s tone had not been pleased.
“How is the boy?”
“He’s well, Your Majesty.”
“Are you sure? You aren’t with him at the moment.”
“I left him with many protectors and only just to answer your summons.”
“I ordered you never to leave his side, did I not?”
Cilie’s eyes went wide at Selia’s icy tone. She stared, unblinking, unmoving.
“Did I not very specifically tell you to never leave his side? Why, here is his worried mother. What must she think of me, seeing that the caregiver I assigned to Tusken would leave him so readily?”
Cilie’s mouth opened and closed, until she finally stammered out, “I was only . . . you called me—”
“I asked for tokens, not for you. You could have stayed. I need to show his mother how seriously I take this, Cilie, so she can rest assured her son is in safe hands. You failed me. I hope it is only a part of you that is unreliable and not your whole being. You are made up of pieces, Cilie. You would be better off without them all. Give me one.”
Selia opened a drawer in the table, pulled out a pair of long, thin scissors, and handed them to Cilie. The girl’s eyes were wide, her lips trembling, and she stared at the scissors as if at her own death.
“My lady, Your Majesty, I don’t—”
“Do you question me?”
Cilie broke into sobs and fell to the ground, petting Selia’s skirt. “No, please, I will do whatever you ask, mistress. What ever you want of me.”
“You have such lovely hair. Haven’t I always told you so?”
“Y-yes, yes, you have.”
“Give it to me.”
Cilie’s hand flew to her head. Rin had seen Cilie brush that hair for an hour at a time, her beautiful thick hair that framed a plain face, wide cheeks, and small, close-together eyes. Beautiful hair that all of Isi’s waiting women had envied, that the palace women had admired whenever she’d walked past. Fat tears began to drop from Cilie’s eyes, but she did not blink.
“My hair?” she whispered.
Selia nodded matter-of-factly. “A fitting sacrifice, I think. But I am all benevolence. If you wish, you may choose some other piece.”
The scissors trembled, but Cilie did not hesitate as she lifted her left hand and let the silver blades slide over her smallest finger. Her right hand squeezed, and the scissors bit through bone.
If Cilie screamed, Rin did not hear it. Everything in Rin went out like a smothered candle. Suddenly she was crumpled on the floor. The soldier still had a firm grip on her arm. He hauled her back on her feet, and her brain seemed to roll around in her head like seeds in a dried gourd.
Cilie’s face was white and she looked up at the ceiling as Nuala approached her. A flare of heat struck the stump where Cilie’s finger had been and the bleeding stopped.
“You may go, Cilie, but take the scissors with you back to Tusken . . . just in case.” Selia’s gaze rested on Isi as the waiting woman gripped the scissors in her undamaged hand and, trembling, crossed the room to the stairs.
Selia examined the object Cilie had brought from Tusken, her smile adoring, then she held it up—a cut lock of hair in Tusken’s unmistakable tawny hue.
Isi’s breath shuddered with a tense sob.
Rin bent over, her head feeling airless after her faint. Close by her feet lay a shard of ceramic, perhaps from a broken pot. Rin could imagine Selia throwing things in a rage. It was too small to use as a dagger, but she palmed it anyway.
“So you see, he is quite well and whole.” Selia rubbed the lock against her cheek. “Just missing a bit of hair, that is. He is such a good boy. I don’t think there will be any need to use those scissors on him. No, I’m sure there won’t. As long as his mother behaves.”
Rin fingered the shard and daydreamed about throwing it at Selia. With her wrists clamped, she could not get enough of a swing to do any damage. She did not think even Razo would be able to hit a target with his hands cuffed. So what would Razo do? Something ridiculous, she thought, something to get a laugh. Make sport of Selia. Pull a prank.
Selia’s droning was making the whole room seem dark and cramped, and Isi looked ready to collapse into a heap. Rin had to do something.
In a low, quick movement, she tossed the shard across the room. It struck the wall under one of the windows with a distinct clack. Everyone looked toward the noise.
Selia frowned. “What—”
Rin made a startled scream.
Selia turned her slow, icy gaze to Rin. “You interrupted me.”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t believe what I saw. A huge stone cairn walked by, and one of its littlest stones fell through the window.”
Some of the Kels looked at the window nervously. A hearth-watcher made a sign over his chest as if to ward away bad luck.
Selia snarled. “What are you talking about?”
Speaking was making Rin giddy. “Maybe the gods sneaked out of the wood, and the cairns are looking for them. Selia, have you seen any gods running about your castle? We could go look in the kitchen—they might be hungry. Or maybe they’re out playing stones with your mercenary army. The cairn is probably on its way to join them—I bet cairns are naturals at playing stones.”
“You have lots of pieces too, girl, and it’s time you earned your right to be here. I think I’ll start taking pieces of you until your timid royal friend signs.”
The soldier yanked Rin’s arm up and held a knife under her finger.
“No, don’t!” Isi yelled.
Rin’s whole body clenched, and she found herself standing on her toes, trying to get away from that sharpness. The soldier looked at Selia for permission.
“Yes, I think I will,” said Selia. “I’m going to carve her up piece by piece for you to watch, so you can imagine what will happen to Tusken. I wonder what he’ll think of his nurse-mary then. She’ll have trouble carrying him home with her fingerless paws. Cilie is surely back with Tusken now—I wonder if he’s noticed her missing finger. I wonder if he knows he could lose his own so easily.”
Distantly, Rin knew s
he should be terrified, but her mind was reeling with a realization. She had been looking at Selia as she spoke—really looking to understand. The laugh, the prank, had made Rin feel more like herself, like Forest born, like Agget-kin. Made her forget to be afraid, forget that she’d let Razo die and would soon be killed too. She’d been so certain she would fail, she had not questioned the failure. But now she watched Selia speak and saw what she had not looked for before.
Selia is lying. Realization flowed through Rin, so hot and sure that she barely noticed the sharpness of the knife against her finger. Selia’s guards had not caught Tusken, had not killed Razo. They must be out there in the wood, safe, hidden. Alive. Far from this viper’s hissing voice, far from soldiers and hearth-watchers and cages and dungeons. Of course she was lying. Rin could see it now etched in every line of her face, in the darkness under her eyes that belied her forced calm, in the twitching corner of her mouth.
Razo must be alive! And Tusken . . .
Enough, Rin thought. That’s just plain enough.
Isi was standing at the table. She picked up the pen.
The soldier’s knife bit a little harder against Rin’s finger, teasing the skin almost to bleeding. There seemed to be no energy left in her that had not been doused by grief and exhaustion and doubt. But she found some, hidden pockets of will she did not know she had. She did not hesitate as she gathered all that energy together, pushed it into words, and sent them at Isi, quick and strong as a crossbow bolt.
“She lies,” Rin said. “Razo lives. Tusken is safe.”
In one moment, Isi’s aspect completely changed—her eyes widened, her back straightened. The pen dropped from her hand.
All she said was, “Rin, get down.”
Chapter 25
The knife under Rin’s finger became red hot, burning her skin before the soldier flung it away. Rin dropped to the floor, though her guard still kept hold of her arm. The other soldiers and the hearth-watchers leaped toward Isi, but a windstorm had begun.
Then the room exploded.
First fire burst through the roof, so hot and quick the timber burned up in an instant, raining chunks of ash and stone. Now the room was open to the day. Wind gushed through the hole, a stiff cord of air, strong as a rampaging bull. It struck the soldiers and hearth-watchers, shoving them into a heap in the corner. The shriek of wind was loud enough to silence Selia’s voice.