“I don’t want a pet,” Dancer said.
“You might enjoy traveling.”
She didn’t look convinced. “It’s been so long since I’ve been outside of the Misted Cliffs. Decades.”
“Think of it as adventure,” Cobalt suggested.
“I don’t like adventure.”
“As fun.”
“It doesn’t sound like fun.”
Exasperated, he said, “At least consider it, Mother.”
She twisted her hand in her pale tunic. “Very well. I will think on it.”
Well, it was a start. He hoped she would go. It would be good for her. And perhaps she could deal with Mel better than he could—for he had no idea how he was going to tell his wife that she was going home without him.
Mel stood in the highest chamber of the Sphere Tower, under its dome, which curved in a hollow globe, except where it opened to cap the chamber. She imagined the globe completed. She couldn’t hold it the way she would hold a ball, but she knew her mother could make spells without touching the shape, if she was close enough to it. Mel concentrated now on doing the same.
Power surged within her, erratic but more settled than the last time she had tried a spell this large, that night Dancer had found her in the Zephyr Tower. Mel still didn’t know what Varqelle intended, but she wanted her parents warned that the House of Chamberlight was gathering its army.
Green light filled the dome above her, and she raised her hands. She couldn’t have touched the light even if she could have reached that high, but it helped her focus. She thought of home, of her father writing at his desk in his calligraphic script, of her mother preparing to meet with the Glassblowers’ Guild. She thought of Shim, of Bricklayer, of her other friends, of Skylark and her tutors. Memories filled her like wine in a goblet. She could almost feel her home.
Her parents were both mages, Muller the stronger of the two but Chime the more adept. Mel focused on her mother, an emerald mage who responded strongly to green spells, and on her father, an indigo sphere mage. She sent her mood to them, her concern about the Chamberlight army amassing at the base of the cliffs. She reached across the borderlands, hills, glades, rivers, and woods and poured her fear into her spell.
Mel had no idea if she contacted either of them. She opened her eyes into a haze of green light that filled the chamber and spilled out the windows into the night. Her arms felt too heavy to hold up, and she let them drop back to her sides. She had never tried a spell this strong nor pushed it so hard. Nausea roiled over her. Her vision blurred and needles seemed to bore into her temples.
With a cry, she collapsed to the floor.
Someone was shaking her. She pushed at his hand, but she couldn’t dislodge the iron grip. She tried to roll away and he pulled her back. He continued to shake her. Hard. It hurt. Her spine knocked against the stone floor.
Mel opened her eyes. King Stonebreaker was kneeling at her side, his hands clenched on her shoulders as he strove to wake her up. When she looked at him, he finally stopped knocking her back and forth. She would have bruises where he had banged her against the floor.
“Are you awake?” he demanded.
“Yes.” Groggy and confused, Mel slowly sat up. Didn’t he realize he could hurt a person that way?
“Why are you sleeping here?” Stonebreaker’s scorn was almost palpable. “Is your husband’s suite that distasteful to you?”
“No…” Mel wasn’t certain herself what had happened. She couldn’t have been unconscious long; the Hunter constellation still showed in the sky, through one window. Her dazed thoughts wandered. Legend claimed that if a captain sailed his ship west, the Hunter would take him to other lands. But in the distant past, an immensely powerful mage had spelled this small continent so that ships had trouble leaving or finding it. As the ages passed, it became more and more difficult. Someday all other lands would be lost to her people. Mel found the tales hard to believe, but she had no better explanation for why fewer ships came every generation.
“Are you mute?” Stonebreaker asked. “Why were you lying on the floor? You looked dead.”
Mel struggled to gather her thoughts. “I grew dizzy and fainted.” She didn’t know why she had passed out, but she thought it had something to do with pushing her abilities too hard. By collapsing, her body had forced her to stop.
“Are you ill?” Stonebreaker asked.
“No…just overwhelmed.” She rubbed her eyes. “How did you know I was here?”
“I saw the green light in the windows.” He sat back with one leg bent and his forearm resting on his knee. “But I see no way you could make such a light.”
“I was practicing a spell.” She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened. If the people here believed she was trying to hide her skills, it would only make them distrust her more.
“A spell.” His voice hardened. “Then it is true what they say. You are a witch.”
“No. Just a mage.” She rubbed her temples. Her head had never hurt this much. “I only do warmth and comfort spells.”
“Warmth and comfort, eh?” Stonebreaker cocked his head. “And what sort of enchantment would those involve? Perhaps an incantation to ward off my grandson.”
Mel had no intention of giving him that satisfaction. “It was a mood spell. I sought to divine if he loved me.” She smiled angelically at Stonebreaker. “He is such a magnificent man, Your Majesty. You must be so proud of him.”
The king scowled. “You drank too much wine tonight.” He let his gaze travel over her body in a way that made her face burn. Then he wet his lips. “You are a lovely young woman. Cobalt must seem too old to you.”
She wanted to slap him. “He’s perfect.”
He leaned forward. “So you are up here in the night making spells to discover if he has passion for you.”
That wasn’t exactly what she had said. “Love.”
“I would think you would find a better answer if you spent the night in his suite rather than up here.”
Well, yes. The verbal sparring was tiring Mel. Her temples ached and her mind felt fuzzy. If she kept pushing her abilities, she could burn them out. Too much, and she could injure or even kill herself.
“Well,” she said. “I should go join him.”
“You should stay here, witch woman.” Stonebreaker grasped her arm. “He will never notice your absence.” His fingers dug into her skin hard enough to bruise.
“Your Majesty.” Mel tried to pull away. It hurt where he gripped her.
Stonebreaker yanked her toward him so their faces were only a handspan apart. “I told you to stay here.” He clenched both of her upper arms until his grip felt like a vise. Then he looked down the front of her tunic. “Why would you waste yourself on him?”
“Stop!” Mel tried to pry her arms free. “It hurts.”
“I am your king.” He shook her hard. “You will not put others before me.”
“S-stop!” Mel managed to pull one arm away.
Stonebreaker slapped her across the face. Mel gasped as her head snapped to the side. She couldn’t believe this. And what decent man looked at his grandson’s wife as if he were undressing her?
“Stop lying,” he said. “Tell me what deviltry you were up to in here.” He lifted her up and then knocked her back down on the floor, on her back. “I will have an answer!”
“D-don’t.” Her cheek throbbed where he had hit her and her head spun. She rolled away from him, but instead of letting her go, he raised his fist—in a motion identical to the way Cobalt had threatened her that night their carriage was attacked. Cobalt had held back the blow, but she had no doubt Stonebreaker fully intended to beat her.
“You bastard.” A dark figure yanked Stonebreaker away from Mel. “Let her go!”
The king jumped to his feet and spun around. Cobalt stood in the moonlight flowing through the windows, his face contorted almost beyond recognition by fury.
“Don’t touch her.” Cobalt ground out the words.
“You will not speak to
me in this manner.” The king’s voice was low and angry.
Mel struggled to her feet and stepped toward Cobalt. Her head ached and she swayed, barely able to stand. Her thoughts whirled.
Stonebreaker put out his hand to catch her, and Mel stumbled away from him in the same instant Cobalt grabbed for her. She was already falling when he caught her. He pulled her to his side, away from Stonebreaker, the muscles in his arm tensed against her waist. Still sensitized by her mood spell from before, she felt Cobalt’s rage like grit against her skin. A fisted anger throbbed within Stonebreaker, clenched and ugly.
“Touch her again,” Cobalt said, “and I will tear you apart.”
Mel stared at him. He had just threatened the king with bodily harm, even death. Stonebreaker could have him tried for treason and executed.
His grandfather regarded him with no trace of remorse. “Do not threaten me, boy.”
“Leave my wife alone.”
“You should ask your wife why she lies here on the floor at night, alone and seductively dressed.”
Cobalt answered in a voice so tight, Mel thought he would snap. “Good night, Grandfather.”
“Leave me,” Stonebreaker said, his eyes glinting. “Sleep well. If you can.” He made it into a curse.
Cobalt kept his arm around Mel as he turned away. His tendons ridged like steel cords against her torso. He reached across his body with his other hand and held it out to her. When she took it, he gripped her fingers, helping support her, but she thought also to calm himself. She could only imagine the effort of will it took for him to walk away. That he managed it told her more about his self-control than anything he could have said. It probably also saved him from being thrown into the dungeon for attempted regicide.
They left Stonebreaker in the tower. She had no doubt he intended to search for a source of the green light. She and Cobalt descended the spiral stairs, holding on to each other.
Mel started to tremble about halfway down the tower. Once her tremors started, they wouldn’t stop. She pulled away from Cobalt and sat down heavily on the step. Crossing her arms over her stomach, she leaned forward with her head bent. Shudders racked her body.
“He had no right,” Cobalt said, his voice dark and low.
Mel looked up. He stood several steps below her, breathing as if he had been running. His fists were clenched at his sides.
“Cobalt—”
“No.” Anger suffused his face. “No!”
With no warning, he slammed his fist into the wall. He jerked back his arm and hit the bricks again—and again and again, with a force that could have shattered Stonebreaker had he expended it against his grandfather instead of an unyielding wall. Any harder and he could break his own hands. The bricks were old and ragged, and half of one cracked from his blows, then disintegrated the next time he hit it. The uneven blocks ripped his skin until blood smeared his knuckles. Jagged bits of mortar and stone crumbled to the steps and dust swirled in the air. Mel pressed back against the stairs, afraid to make a sound. She didn’t believe he would turn his fists against her, but she had never seen him lose control before. He pounded the wall as if he wanted to destroy the castle itself.
Gradually his rage abated and his blows slowed. Finally he pressed his palms against the bloodied stone and rested his forehead on the wall, his chest heaving from exertion.
“Cobalt?” Mel whispered.
He made a choked sound. Then he pushed away from the wall and turned to her. “I won’t hurt you. I swear.” Blood dripped off his torn knuckles and splattered on the cracked step by her foot.
“Your hands,” she said, shaking.
“It doesn’t matter.” He knelt next to her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She lifted his hand and blood trickled across her fingers. Even now, when she was stunned from his rage, from Stonebreaker’s behavior, and from her struggle with her magecraft earlier tonight, she still automatically folded her other hand around her sapphire pendant and tried to form a blue spell of healing. A terrible pain lanced through her head and she gasped, dropping the pendant. No hint of a spell formed. Nausea swept over her, then dismay. Was it possible she had burned out her mage abilities? This aftermath was much worse than the last time. She couldn’t heal even herself right now, let alone Cobalt.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t help.”
He searched her face as if trying to find an answer. “You were alone up there.”
“Cobalt, I swear, I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
He put his bloodied fingers against her lips. “I know. But why were you alone?”
Mel couldn’t tell him why. But she could tell him another truth. “I feel so out of place here. I needed some time for myself, to practice my craft. When people see me doing spells, they think I am some sort of demon. Cobalt, I’m not evil—”
“You are a gift,” he said, his gaze never leaving her face. “I don’t understand your spells. And yes, they disquiet me. But I know you intend only good, not evil.” He sat on the step next to her. “I never wanted you to witness any of that. Not Grandfather. And not—not me.”
“He has hurt you.” Mel had no doubt about it. Saints only knew what Stonebreaker had done to Cobalt and Dancer.
“It is over,” Cobalt said.
Mel knew it wasn’t, not if he bloodied himself this way. “You need to escape this place.”
His gaze darkened. “I will kill him if he hurts you again.”
She knew Cobalt was capable of it. What then? Would his people execute him for murdering the king? She doubted it. He would be king then. It would be a nightmare. Would they revolt? They all feared him and he had control of the army. No matter what happened, he would hate himself. It would poison everything he did. He had it within him to become a great leader, but she didn’t think it would happen if he didn’t get away from here and heal. She couldn’t bear to see his promise destroyed in the flames of his rage.
“Don’t talk that way,” she said.
“I have decided,” he said. “My mother will go to your family with you.”
Relief flooded Mel, so sudden and welcome that it made her light-headed. “It is a wonderful idea. You will like my family, too.”
He didn’t answer.
“Cobalt?” Her unease stirred. He had said with you. Not with us. “You are coming, aren’t you?”
“I will escort you with the army.”
Mel froze. “You are bringing them into Harsdown?”
“An honor guard wasn’t enough to protect you the last time. Now it will be both you and my mother.”
“You cannot bring an army to my family’s home!”
He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “We won’t stay there.”
“Cobalt, look at me.”
He turned to her. “I will escort you home. Then I will take the army to Shazire.”
“No! Don’t do this.”
With unexpected gentleness, he smoothed her hair back from her face. “I will give you the world, Mel.”
Her voice caught. “I don’t want the world.”
He spoke quietly. “But I do.”
She didn’t know how to make this nightmare stop. “You could be happy with my family.”
He smiled with sadness. “I might wish that were true. But it is not.”
She grasped his forearms. “Shazire has never done you harm.”
“It is part of the Misted Cliffs!”
“That was over two hundred years ago.”
“Then we have been apart too long.”
Her pulse stuttered. “The western edge of Harsdown was also part of the Misted Cliffs.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “I won’t go back on my word to you. We will not attack Harsdown.”
“Then why?” She grasped his wrists and moved his palms away from her face. “Why must you take back Shazire?”
“Why must a lion stalk its prey? Why must lightning stab the earth during a storm?” Cobalt pulled away his arms. “I am not a
man to tend orchards. I never will be.” He regarded her steadily. “And neither are you such a woman.”
“No,” she whispered.
“A fire burns in you.”
“You are wrong.”
“Someday an empire will kneel to you.”
“I don’t want people to kneel to me.” All she wanted was a happy life with him and their child. Most of all, she feared he would seduce her with his dark promises of glory and power.
His gaze burned. “I will become invincible. No one will ever hurt you, my mother, or any child you bear me.”
She knew then that Stonebreaker truly had been a fool. The small boy he had so easily terrorized had grown into an indomitable man, one haunted by the demons of his childhood.
Now the rest of humanity would pay the price.
15
The Living Sea
In the end, Dancer agreed to come. Mel suspected it had nothing to do with meeting her son’s in-laws. She feared remaining at the keep without Cobalt—for Stonebreaker was to stay there. Varqelle insisted the Chamberlight king not risk his life with the army, and though Stonebreaker protested, in the end he reluctantly agreed to abide by his son-in-law’s wishes. Mel didn’t believe his reluctance for one moment. The king of the Misted Cliffs wanted as little blame as possible for this campaign he was supporting. He desired the result, that his grandson would restore the size and wealth of his realms, but not the responsibility.
Today Mel wore a gray tunic and leggings, with soft boots. She left the castle by a small door behind the stables and crossed the yard outside where she often rode Smoke. To the west, cliffs towered over the castle; to the east, the rugged land crumpled in folds and ridges, then dropped down to the borderlands. She walked slowly, lost in thought, her pendant heavy around her neck. Several stable boys were training horses in the yard. Most of them paid her no heed, but Jumper waved. She smiled and waved back at the towheaded child. He often helped her tend Smoke. Sometimes he forgot he wasn’t supposed to talk to her and told her jokes about his favorites among the horses.
Mel wandered a trail that climbed into the mountains. Eventually she reached a ledge near the top of the waterfall created by the River of Diamonds. Water thundered over the rocks and down, down, down to the Lake of Ice far below. She sat cross-legged on the ledge and folded her hand around her pendant. Then she imagined red roses, flushed cheeks, bright red ribbons on a festival pole, red, crimson, scarlet, the simplest mage color.