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Green Wild (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 2) Page 16
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A murmur of voices came from the hall, growing louder. It was an argument. Jerya glanced at the door and recognized Yithiere’s voice, fast and angry. A moment later, she recognized Seandri, and her guard. Then Yithiere flung open the door and loomed at the threshold.
“I am well, Uncle,” Jerya said calmly, and some tension went out of his shoulders.
“These men outside your door—”
“Just men, Uncle. Is Seandri with you? Please, both of you come in. Ambassador Smith has asked us for a favor.” Then again, she mused, even without the phantasmagory, she wasn’t as isolated as she’d felt.
Seandri stepped into the room behind Yithiere, nudging him forward, and closed the door behind them again. “Here we are,” he said. “Good afternoon, Ambassador. You’ve been busy today.”
Jerya’s heart lightened a touch. Even with Iriss strange and worrying, even with Vassay and the Blight, Seandri could always make her feel better. He was so reliable that sometimes she felt she had a second Regent. He loved her, he took care of her when she needed it, and he never made things hard. He hadn’t been jealous of her brief fling with Cathay. He never felt threatened by anything. He was a deep pool of water that swallowed every stone. And everybody around him, even those who didn’t know him, seemed to feel as if he could be trusted. Or at least forgotten about. She’d noticed that. He was so steady the Chancellor forgot about him when planning sometimes.
Jerya didn’t mind. She never forgot about him.
“Ambassador Smith wants to excavate the Palace first,” Jerya explained. “And he wants a Blood escort for another caravan. I think the first must be considered carefully, since the resources he has brought us are precious and should not be wasted on frivolous things. But the second—the second—what do you think, my Blood?”
Yithiere’s hackles had risen at the mention of Vassay excavating the Palace, but she’d smoothed them in the same sentence. He rubbed his chin at her query. “I’ve been thinking about that. None of us should be sitting idle in Lor Seleni. It can take care of itself as long as we can stop the Blighter from getting any closer to it.”
“This would be a good opportunity to get a look at what’s going on out there,” offered Seandri. “I don’t think we should abandon Lor Seleni though. It would be bad for morale. And other things. I have some ideas there.” His gaze slid over to the Ambassador.
“I see we’re all being straightforward here,” the Ambassador said, back to joviality again. “I personally find honest advice the best kind. It’s hard to hammer out the flaws in a plan with less than honest feedback.”
Scriber Stone audibly sighed, as if he regretted something. Jerya smiled at them again. “You did me a kindness in returning Iriss,” she said. “And on Fallendre, too. I will do you a favor in response—one you do believe is necessary—and make sure your own loved ones stay safe on the journey here. As for the Palace, we will... discuss it. I’m not yet convinced it is the best use of resources, but you will have a chance to make arguments.”
The Ambassador inclined his head. “Very gracious. And who will be joining our caravan? The sooner they can depart, the sooner the supplies will arrive.”
Jerya looked at Yithiere and Seandri, and thought of the rest of her family, and too late realized the trap she’d set herself. She remembered, all of a sudden, why she’d sent none of the Blood out yet with the scout troops.
Jant, she could not command to leave Lor Seleni. Even if she had the will to do so, he wouldn’t obey. He’d been ready to die in the mudslide rather than leave the Palace.
Gisen was still a child, younger than her thirteen years. Gisen was what they were fighting for.
Yithiere was dangerously unstable now, without a Regent and enormously stressed. Without the phantasmagory, she’d be unable to monitor him. It was a disaster on the edge of happening.
And Seandri... Seandri was stable and had his Regent and could be trusted absolutely... But Seandri was hers.
She silently cursed Tiana and Kiar and Cathay—especially Cathay—for running off, taking their strength of mind and independence of action with them. She cursed the Blighter, for destroying the phantasmagory. And she cursed herself, for trapping herself in this sudden dead end.
Siana was watching her, she realized. Her aunt had been sewing all this time, no more involved than the table. But now her needle stopped and she lifted her eyes to witness Jerya’s decision. They were all watching her expectantly, but she felt like Siana expected something particular from her.
Seandri startled her by saying, “I’ll go. It will be interesting and Yithiere can stay closer to the Blight.”
“No!” Jerya covered her mouth, then dropped her hands, regaining her composure. “Uncle Yithiere, you’ll go. You have the most experience in the field. You’ll be able to keep the caravan safe, and that’s what’s important.” It was the best she could do. She couldn’t send away Seandri. She couldn’t. He was hers.
Seandri glanced at her and shrugged. “Also a good plan. I can help the engineers instead. I thought this morning that our magic might be useful when combined with their own Logos skills.”
Jerya didn’t like that much better, but she couldn’t say anything, couldn’t argue without exposing her irrationality to far too many people. Instead she only nodded, and wondered why Siana looked down at her stitching and sighed.
Chapter 14
Fel Dion
MINEX KNEW STORIES about Fel Dion. When she discovered their destination, she wove chilling tales of trees that devoured corpses and bloody revels among the branches. She spoke of the animals hunted for sport with sympathy, as if she’d been one of them. With relish, she described maidens tearing away their own maidenheads. She even giggled as she related the doom that came upon those who stalked the chosen of the wood.
Minex knew stories about Jinriki, nonsensical stories that baffled Jinriki as much as they irritated Tiana. Eagerly she described how Jinriki had come down from the sky and dispensed justice for her people. She related how he’d been courted by the most beautiful of the earth fiends and rejected all his suitors as distractions from his true duty.
Minex knew ancient Blood history. She spun tales about family members in misty past, names nearly forgotten in the long descent from Shin Savanyel to Tiana herself. Kiar was especially interested in these supposed histories, stories of wars fought and earth fiends betrayed by those of her Blood who had seduced them. She wanted Minex to tell her more about Shin Savanyel, but the earth fiend never seemed to hear her queries. Or maybe the stories of Shin Savanyel just didn’t feature enough earth fiends.
But Minex, it seemed, knew stories about almost everything. Privately, Tiana thought she invented them all. But the others paid attention when she breathlessly recounted tales of sorcery, betrayal and murder in Fel Dion, as she walked in the midst of the horses, and sat among them at the campsite. Even Jinriki listened closely, although he commented often to Tiana on the more extravagant or incomprehensible of the earth fiend’s claims.
She wasn’t even a very good storyteller. She’d lose track of one thread and go meandering off in a different direction, and everybody just stared at her in fascination. It was stupid, and Tiana tried not to pay attention, losing herself in the light of the Firstborn instead.
It sang to her, enticing her forward. It seemed to promise her that at the end of the road awaited both duty satisfied and desire achieved. It was a nice song to listen to. Tiana imagined what would happen when she’d gathered up all the lights of the Firstborn. She’d banish the Blighter in one blow, she hoped. There’d be no more fighting, no more watching Lisette cower on the ground or fending off darts from monsters. She’d drive off the Blighter and go home and Jerya would tell her she’d done well.
After a day and a half of Minex’s company, they stopped on a hill. In the hazy distance, dark trees stretched along the horizon. “Fel Dion!” said Minex proudly, as if she was responsible for bringing them there. “And that is the terrible village,” she a
dded with a shudder, pointing at the closer peaked roofs of a small town.
Tiana remembered the original tale of Sinethca vividly; it bothered her more than all the earth fiend’s ramblings. Carefully she led the others in a far circuit around the village so as not to attract attention. More people would only complicate matters, anyway.
Beyond the village, the road abruptly became a track, crossing a wide strip of meadowland before vanishing into the dark woods.
“This is the Gift,” said Minex, springing forward into the long grass. “That’s what the villagers call it, anyhow. It doesn’t call itself anything. They believe as long as they don’t go in it, the forest won’t expand.”
Tiana couldn’t restrain herself. “Have you talked to them much, then? How did you manage that without being murdered, like in your stories yesterday?”
Minex’s ears moved, a disconcerting sight. “I didn’t! But the current remembers. They put their bones underground and the current nibbles them to dust and in the dust weeps all their words.” She gazed up at Tiana with her solemn yellow eyes. “But it’s the stones under the soil that stop the forest, really. So it won’t matter if you cross the Gift.”
“And are we going to be eaten inside?” Tiana asked, nudging her horse forward.
Firmly, Minex said, “The Great Prince would not allow that to happen.” Then she dropped to all fours and scampered ahead.
**She’s right, of course.**
Tiana mumbled, “Did you think I was honestly worried?”
The tall grass hid marshy ground and insects swarmed around the horses’ legs, disturbed by their steps. Halfway across the field, Minex vanished into the undergrowth on the forest side, and then reappeared again, her bushy tail waving. Tiana didn’t know if the waving tail spoke of a dog-like happiness or a cat-like aggression. Sometimes it seemed to her it was both.
“Come! Come! Inside it is hers!”
Tiana’s mount, Moon, pricked his ears forward as he carried Tiana into the shade of the boundary trees. A crushed floral scent wafted up from his hooves and dizziness swept over Tiana.
The emerald light filled the forest. Like a physical force, it pounded on her skin, swept over her, carried her out of herself. She struggled for something to cling to: Moon’s saddle, Lisette’s hand, even the scratchiness of Jinriki. But she had not been prepared and the green light was both close and cruel. Brambles tore through her skin and rooted in her bones, and the spicy scent of crushed wildflowers infused her blood.
Then something caught her. A pool of crimson, floating with roses, moved within the endless green. The ruby light slept within the expanse of the Green Wild, but even sleeping it pulled her free of the other light. She floated, lost and bewildered.
Firm arms closed around her and she gasped for breath. Jinriki murmured, **I have you.**
Muzzily, she wondered where Jinriki had found arms, and if this was a phantasmagory dream. But she opened her eyes and Cathay’s face looked down on her anxiously. She’d fallen off Moon; one foot was still in the stirrup, and Moon was investigating her bare leg curiously. Carefully, she pulled her foot free, and Cathay helped her stand. She could feel Jinriki’s bulwarks inside, buffering the sensation of drowning in the light.
She felt steady enough on her feet, although the drifting scent of the tiny pink blossoms on the undergrowth made her recoil. Cathay said, “Do you want to keep going?” and she nodded.
Once on her horse again, she looked around at the others. The furtive glances from some of the guards made her ashamed; passing out without warning earned her whispers from strangers, and calm acceptance from her friends. But Jinriki said, **Hardly calm; that fool almost fell off his own horse in his hurry to get to you.** His voice sneered but Tiana was obscurely comforted all the same.
They moved past the edge bracken, trampling down quite a large section of it as they did. Once inside, beyond the reach of the afternoon sunlight, the forest dimmed. The light filtering through the green canopy above faintly echoed the green maelstrom Tiana could still sense. The trees were huge, with interlaced branches that absorbed every bit of direct sunlight, with another layer of branches below with fewer leaves and spikier branches. The forest floor was carpeted with needles, old leaves, broken twigs, small ferns and moss-covered sections of ancient tree. The horses’ hooves sunk into it and they moved slowly. Slater dismounted and led his horse, testing the ground as he went, and the others followed, winding among the trees. Near the back of the column, one of the stable girls started complaining loudly.
“I’m not sure how far we should go,” Slater announced. “If our destination is deep in the forest, we should leave the horses with the grooms and some men, and go on by foot.”
Minex appeared over a fallen tree that rested against its neighbors. “This way! There’s a road!”
Slater left his horse, ducking under the fallen tree. Tiana muttered, “I hope you’re getting something useful from her.”
**She is company in a way humans are not. I haven’t had that for a long time.**
Slater reappeared, around the tree this time. “She’s right. I don’t believe it... but there’s something like a road. This way.”
There were no paving stones or tire ruts beyond the fallen tree, but the trees grew farther apart, stretching deeper into the forest. The canopy thinned, and nothing had colonized the open space. Minex crouched in the center of the track, digging with her bare hands. She looked up as Slater arrived next to her. “The current is very deep here. I don’t know why.”
Slater hesitated and then put his hand on Minex’s head, between those ridiculous ears. “Digging may not be a good idea, then. Let’s see what’s further along.”
“That’s what I was trying to do,” Minex said, but stood and shook herself.
They followed the curving path for several miles and more than an hour. The forest seemed endless. Tiana was unpleasantly reminded that the woodlands near her home were small, and surrounded by villages and farmland. Captured, she thought. Then, without fanfare, the road ended. Trees pressed closely together on all sides save the way they came.
Slater said, “Shall we make a camp here for the night and see what the area looks like in the morning?” He clearly thought it was the sensible decision, but Tiana remembered waiting outside the big gates of the Citadel of the Sky.
“No. Let’s push a little farther in and find a campsite within.” She looked around and added, “I don’t think we want to be surprised by whatever uses this road normally.”
It wasn’t a tamed forest. There were no pleasant clearings large enough for a royal camp-out. What they found was more like three clearings, each slightly wider than the trail they made, and separated by partially fallen trees. Trees didn’t seem to make it all the way to the ground when they died here; they landed in other trees and become part of the landscape, hosting mushrooms and insects and eventually, ferns. Roots of trees and the ancient remains of deadwood made the ground rough, and it sloped unevenly, dotted with the remains of rivulets from the winter. A tiny creek seeped out from under a stone, the flow of water barely more than a hand span wide.
“Do you know where we go next, Your Highness?” asked Slater, while the others assembled the camp. It was a serious undertaking, with the mules and the remounts in one clearing with a handful of guards, half the guards and the Palace horses in the second, and the Blood in the third.
Even from her clearing, Tiana could hear the loud stable girl complaining. “—should have stayed in the meadow, where there’s better grazing, this is dumb, somebody is going to break a leg, and why—” Tiana had wondered vaguely about how eager the stable girls had been to sign on with their expedition. She wondered less now. Most nobles preferred less vocal servants.
She shook her head in response to Slater’s question. “It’s everywhere, like a fog. I have no idea how to gather it.” She didn’t mention her awareness of the red light, because she didn’t know what it meant. How could a light be sleeping?
Kiar said, “I’m not sure we should be doing some of these things,” and she waved at where several guards worked on fire pits. “This is a holy place and we don’t know what the restrictions are. We could make enemies.”
Tiana raised her eyebrows. “I thought you said this was no different than any other forest.”
Kiar scowled. “I said all forests had stories. This place is strange. And if your green light is here, that must mean it’s holy somehow.”
Tiana shrugged. “Well, if somebody wants to scold us, that will give us somebody to talk to. Which would be better than what we have right now.” She leaned back, resting her head on a tree root and closing her eyes.
Kiar said, “You’re being an optimist again.” Tiana pretended she hadn’t heard, and tried to focus on the lights of the Firstborn. But Jinriki muffled them and it felt like the green light was everywhere, a spiritual representation of the forest. It didn’t welcome her the way the blue light of Niyhan had, and it gave her no clues on how to call it. All she knew was she had to acquire it, had to carry it within her as she carried the blue.
Even now she could touch the blue light, sense the movement of the sky and clouds overhead, and feel the trembling balance of the high places.
**Stop that,** said Jinriki. **I don’t like this. The Firstborn are using you.**
“But it’s for the same purpose that you’re using me, isn’t it? And I’ve accepted that. I chose to accept that.”
**I don’t know,** he admitted grudgingly. **It seems as though they seek more than vengeance against a murderer.**
“Of course they do. He’s currently trying to destroy Ceria. Maybe more than just Ceria, too. He killed one of them before.” Her tartness softened. “It’s a lot more complicated than I expected, though. I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do here. I thought I’d just... find the light and it would fall into me like the blue light did.”
A tree rustled overhead, as if from a squirrel. A pack of squirrels, or else something very large.