Then she left the cell and its destruction, taking the weapon, her mage power—and her rage.
20
Blue Silk
The knock came in the evening. Jade was in the Starflower Parlor of her suite. As soon as she heard the knock, she lifted a vase out of the niche where it sat in a starflower depression. She pressed the petals of the flower in a pattern only she knew, and a narrow section of the wall swung open. Drummer stood framed in the opening, a candle in his hand and his grin audacious, as if he had personally built the secret tunnel.
Jade pulled him into her parlor. “Did you have any trouble?”
“None at all.” He clunked his candle on the table and drew her into a kiss, deep and warm and hungry.
After a while, when they separated, she laughed and thumped him on the chest. “Light of the evening to you, too.”
“I can’t believe you told them today.” His smile turned into a grimace. “Baz is going to roast me over a fire.”
“He has to get you first.”
He spoke intently. “Spearcaster and Fieldson came to see me. They want to talk to you. They will return later tonight. They don’t think we can make it until Windcrier returns from Aronsdale.”
She snorted. “So they are sneaking around to see you?”
He took a breath. “They want us to marry tonight.”
“What?” This didn’t sound like those two generals, who were among the most cautious of the whole group. “Why?”
Sweat gathered on his forehead. “Once we’re married, your army is sworn to protect me as well as you. Assassinating the prince consort is far different than killing a minstrel who dishonored the queen. And if anything does happen to me after we’re married, our child will be your legitimate heir.”
It made sense, but that only made her more wary. “Why did they go to you instead of to me with this idea?”
“Baz is having our suites watched. Yours more than mine.”
“They told you this?”
“Yes.”
She crossed her arms. “Why should we believe them?”
“Why would they bother to lie? It’s not as if I have any power here.”
Jade sighed. “Because, love, everyone knows you are naive and inexperienced. They asked if you had a way to get to me, didn’t they? And they wanted you to show them, yes?”
“Yes to the first. No to the second. Jade, listen. I can tell when people are lying.” He folded his hand around a pendant he wore. “I’m good at reading moods.”
Jade took his hand and opened it so she could see the pendant. It was the gold cube he had been holding this afternoon.
“What is this?” she asked. “A talisman?”
“For luck.”
“Is it?” She looked into his face. “I too am a good judge of when people tell the truth, Drummer. To survive, I had to learn well and learn fast.”
“Why would I lie about a cube?”
She remembered when he had awoken from his sickness. “You once asked me for a shape, and I gave you my earring. You held it in your hand and made light.” She rolled the cube in his fingers. “Is that why you have this, too?”
He hesitated. “I can do tricks with it.”
Jade studied his face. She didn’t think he was lying, exactly. He was an entertainer, and it made sense he would know flashy magic tricks. But something was wrong. Or maybe not wrong, but missing.
“I have a question,” she said.
“Which is?”
“You aren’t telling me something.” She let go of the cube and raised her hand when he started to protest. “Just tell me this. Is your secret a danger to us, our child, or Taka Mal?”
His posture relaxed. “No, insomuch as a person can answer that question. You’re the queen of Taka Mal. I can’t guarantee nothing I ever do, if I become your consort, will pose a danger. But to the best of my knowledge and intent, the answer is no.”
Jade had to decide: Either she trusted his word or she didn’t. Perhaps she was blinded by love, but she believed him. “So you think Fieldson and Spearcaster genuinely wish to see us married.”
“Yes.”
“What if King Jarid refuses the treaty?” Jade paced across the room. Only a few steps took her to the opposite wall. She turned to Drummer. He was watching her, his unruly hair tousled over his collar, his large blue eyes distracting. She couldn’t think straight when he looked at her like that.
“If I marry you and Aronsdale turns us down,” she said, “and then Cobalt attacks, we will have no ally. Cobalt will crush us.”
“You have Jazid,” he said.
“That alliance requires I marry Ozar.”
His face twisted. “You can’t marry that monster. He wants to hurt you.”
She spoke quietly. “I know.”
He looked as if he was going to explode. “Then how can you even consider it?”
She felt ill. “If the choice is subjugation of either myself or my country, it is no choice. I am a queen first, Drummer, and a woman second.”
He came over and grasped her shoulders. “He would be crazy not to ally with you if Cobalt attacks. He knows Cobalt will go after him next. I don’t believe Ozar would give up his own throne just because he can’t have yours.”
“You can never tell with Ozar.” She regarded him uneasily. “He may have another plan we know nothing about.”
“If we don’t do this now, I don’t believe we’ll get another chance. Too much is set against us.” He implored her with the unfair advantage of his eyes. “For the sake of our child. Even if Ozar has me killed so he can have you, I would die knowing my child’s heritage is protected. He can’t get rid of your heir.”
She touched his cheek. “He would try, love.”
“And if we weren’t married? What then?”
“It would be much worse,” she admitted. “The child would be the illegitimate offspring of a forbidden liaison rather than heir to the Topaz Throne.”
He waited, watching her face. She knew what she wanted. But what was best? No matter what they did, it could bring disaster. Nothing was certain—except how she felt about Drummer.
Jade took his hands and spoke softly, letting what she felt for him warm her voice. “Then let us marry. Tonight.”
Cobalt sat on Admiral, high on a ridge, and Matthew sat next to him on his gold stallion, Hawkspar. As the sun set behind them, their shadows stretched out and spilled over the edge of the ridge. A panorama spread all around them. To the southeast, the Jagged Teeth Mountains cut bleak silhouettes against the purpling sky. The starkly beautiful Rocklands of Taka Mal stretched east before him. The Pyramid Foothills of Aronsdale were behind them, mounded and rocky, but greening as one looked farther west.
Ozar’s army, over four thousand strong, had massed along Jazid’s northern border with Taka Mal and its western border with Aronsdale. Cobalt’s army was camped across from them, just within Aronsdale, and the Taka Mal forces had gathered along the Saint Verdant River, which all three armies were using for water. It was an untenable situation, almost fourteen thousand soldiers and another three thousand tenders, all living off land that would have trouble supporting one-third that population for any sustained time.
“Maybe I should send another envoy to Taka Mal,” Cobalt said.
Matthew frowned at him. “What was wrong with the one Sphere-General Fieldson took there?”
“If they could return to us, they would have done so.”
Matthew didn’t look convinced. “Samuel Fieldson is one of the highest-ranked generals alive. Maybe Queen Vizarana fears for his life.” He indicated the massed armies. “If I were queen of Taka Mal and I had all these people hulking at my door, I wouldn’t be sending an officer that valuable anywhere right now, either.”
Cobalt couldn’t help but smile. “If you were the queen of Taka Mal, Matthew, I do believe her suitors would be rather upset.”
The stable master laughed. “I imagine so.”
Cobalt’s smile faded. “S
he might be using caution. Or she might be holding the envoy hostage.” He studied the armies that stretched as far as he could see both south and east, until they became dark blurs. “I will give her one more day and then send another envoy.”
“You should see this.” Matthew’s voice had a strange sound.
“Hmm?” Cobalt glanced at him. Matthew had twisted around in his saddle to look behind them. Cobalt maneuvered Admiral around to face west. All he saw was the same Aronsdale landscape as always. In the distance, its misty green and blue hues promised a gentler land than this harsh landscape. A haze spread across the countryside, giving it a mystical quality. It was attractive, certainly, and he saw no problem.
“What?” Cobalt asked.
Matthew gave him a strange look. “Your Majesty—”
Cobalt scowled at him. “You never call me that unless you plan on saying something I won’t like.”
“Maybe you should put on your glasses.”
So that was it. Reluctant, Cobalt took his spectacles out of the hidden pocket in his tunic. Settling them on his nose, he peered west. The misty blue resolved into ranks of men and horses extending across the land for many leagues.
“Oh,” Cobalt said. The Aronsdale army had arrived.
Matthew shifted uneasily in his saddle. “Jarid promised us safe passage.”
“They haven’t denied it,” Cobalt said, as much to convince himself as Matthew. “They’re coming to make sure we keep our battles out of their country.”
The older man gave him a dour look. “What battles?”
Cobalt was barely listening. With his glasses on, he could see the beauty of Aronsdale much better. “Now that,” he murmured, “is a country worth having.”
“Cobalt, for saints’ sake.”
He pulled his attention back to his scowling stable master. “I’m not going to invade Aronsdale. If Taka Mal gives back Drummer and Jazid minds its own business, I won’t attack anyone.”
“And if they don’t?”
“We will see.” Cobalt felt the thirst within him that nothing quenched. He had promised Mel to use restraint, not in so many words but in his silences, when she looked at him and believed he could be more than he thought possible, as a king, a father, and a husband. His wife wanted a man of peace. He would never be that. But today, he would try.
Hooves pounded on the path that led up the ridge. Admiral snorted, and Hawkspar stepped nervously. A lieutenant rode around a spur, a young fellow with his hair pulled into a queue. He came forward with caution. Cobalt had noticed that many of his officers approached him in such a manner. He didn’t put people at ease. Well, he was their commander. They weren’t supposed to be at ease. Oddly enough, they seemed to trust him anyway and follow him with loyalty, despite Stonebreaker’s years of scorn.
The youth saluted Cobalt, his fist against his rib cage. Cobalt returned the salute, curious as to what brought the lieutenant up here. “Do you have a message?” Cobalt asked.
“Not I, Your Majesty.” The youth motioned down the ridge. “A man rode here from Alzire. He says he must speak with you.”
Cobalt’s unease stirred. Mel was in Alzire. “Bring him up.”
“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant wheeled his horse around and took off down the slope.
“What do you suppose it is about?” Matthew asked.
“I’ve no idea.” Cobalt didn’t want to speak. He never did when he was on edge.
The lieutenant soon returned with another rider, a man Cobalt recognized from the Alzire Palace. What was his name? Abacus. He was a clerk who kept records, also a horseman who carried messages to other towns. Cobalt couldn’t imagine what brought him all the way out here, a journey of thirty days. His foreboding deepened.
Dust and dirt covered Abacus. His beard had grown out and his clothes were trail-worn. The pouch he wore strapped across his torso had frayed. He looked as if he hadn’t stopped during the entire ride here from Alzire. In fact, he looked like hell.
“I am honored, Majesty,” Abacus said hoarsely.
Cobalt felt like a wire pulled tight. “What is your message?”
“Sire—it is your wife.”
The world suddenly went silent. Cobalt no longer heard the low thunder of seventeen thousand people. “What about my wife?”
“She—” Abacus took a shuddering breath. “She is gone. Kidnapped, we think.”
Cobalt wanted to ask him to start over. He couldn’t have heard properly. The one constant in his life, the one person who gave him reason to live, couldn’t be gone. He had left her in Alzire for her protection.
“How long?” Cobalt’s voice sounded strange. It belonged to someone else. It couldn’t be his, because he was screaming inside.
“Twenty days.” Abacus was shaking from fatigue.
Matthew stared at him. “You made it here in twenty days?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me what happened,” Cobalt said.
“She vanished the night of the Citrine Festival,” Abacus answered, trying to sit erect in his saddle, though he swayed. He reached into his bag and took out a packet of blue silk. “We found signs of a struggle in one of the stables. And this.”
Cobalt took the packet. He recognized the vivid blue silk and silver embroidery. It was Mel’s scarf, torn, with blood on one corner. Somehow he kept his hands steady as he inspected what the messenger had wrapped within it. Those strands of hair had to be hers; he knew no one else with hair to her waist of that bright yellow color. He had a sudden memory of the first time he had touched her hair, in his coach the night after their wedding. He had feared he would hurt her. He had seen the pretty young woman and hadn’t known the strength behind that angelic face.
The scarf held one other object: a dagger with blood on its tip. Whose blood? Its curved blade and the hilt enameled in sunrise colors were both distinctive. In his too-quiet voice, Cobalt said, “This dagger is from Taka Mal.”
Abacus spoke miserably. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“They took Mel?” Matthew asked, incredulous.
Cobalt felt as if he couldn’t breathe. “They made a mistake.” His calm was threatening to break open.
“We don’t know anything for certain,” Matthew said.
Cobalt spurred Admiral forward and took off down the slope, leaving the others behind. He had to arrange search parties, send investigators to Alzire, ride hard, scour the land, do something. He couldn’t leave his post here, but until he knew what had happened to Mel, he would have no rest.
He swore an oath: If she had been hurt—or worse—those responsible would pay a price beyond their imagining.
21
Temple of the Dragon-Sun
The rough passage, thick with grime, had seen little use for centuries. Light from Jade’s candle bounced off the coarse brick walls and the stale air smelled dusty. The tunnel twisted around the citadel and narrowed in places until its walls touched her. She kept a blanket around herself so she didn’t rip or destroy her garments as she squeezed through the hidden passage.
Finally she reached a panel with an eyehole too high for her. She stepped on a brick jutting out from the wall and peered through the hole. A few candles lit the room beyond. It resembled the parlor in her own suite, except here the walls were red by the floor and lightened into rose and then gold as they shaded upward. The ceiling was blue with a few gray clouds. The citadel builders called it the Sunset Room, but Jade silently beseeched the Dragon-Sun to make it a sunrise tonight instead of an ending.
This door bore a carved starflower. She pressed its petals in a different pattern than the one she had used in her suite. Her father had taught her the secrets of this citadel, just as he had in the Topaz Palace. She carried the knowledge alone; he had told no one else but her mother. Not even Baz. Especially not Baz. Her father had known the challenges Jade would face. He had given her every tool within his power to help her hold the throne.
Jade rested her hand on her abdomen. Someday, saints willing, she
would bequeath those secrets to her child. Determined, she pushed the wooden panel. It opened with a creak, and she stepped into the Sunset Room. Her candle chased away shadows in the corners, but she blew it out. She went to a small table enameled with a fire dragon and blew out the candle there. That left only the one on the mantel across the parlor, and it only lit that side of the room. Satisfied, Jade hid in the corner farthest from the mantel, behind a cabinet that displayed porcelain fire-dragons.
Then she waited.
It wasn’t long before the others arrived: Drummer, Fieldson, Spearcaster, and Arkandy Ravensford.
“She’s not here,” Fieldson said.
Drummer looked around with obvious unease. “She’ll come.”
Spearcaster picked up the doused candle on the table. “Do you have a flint?”
“Somewhere.” Drummer sounded distracted. “Maybe she went to one of the other rooms.”
“She said she would meet us here,” Spearcaster said.
Drummer wandered restlessly around the room. He was a captivating sight. His elegant gold trousers had a row of topaz buttons up their outer seams. His suede belt fit low on his hips and glinted with rubies and gold. His white shirt was Zanterian silk, and his vest had sunrise designs worked into it with gems and blue thread. Gold edged his shirt cuffs and the seams of his amber-suede boots. Someone had dressed the groom well indeed.
The officers also wore their finest. General Spearcaster was resplendent in his dress uniform, dark gold and red, with gold braid up the trousers, and his sword in a jeweled sheath. Fieldson and Ravensford wore uniforms of white and violet, with knee-boots and those oddly straight swords that seemed less deadly to Jade, less efficient in gouging the guts of an opponent. If they were lucky, there would be no eviscerating tonight.
Jade never paid much attention to her own clothes. Usually she let Clove pick them out. She couldn’t tonight, though, lest the ginger-maid wonder what was going on. So Jade had chosen a sunset silk, mainly because everything in the citadel had that theme. The floor-length silk wrapped her body and had a slit up the side revealing far too much leg. The sleeveless gown shaded from crimson up through sunrise colors and into pale blue across her breasts. With her hair up and threaded with gems, her head felt heavy. She wore the Dragon-Sun jewels, a necklace of topazes, rubies, and sapphires, with earrings that dangled down her neck and bracelets on her wrists. She felt overdressed, but maybe Drummer would like the effect.