Green Wild (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 2) Read online

  Tiana didn’t understand what was going on. She knew she should, that it was obvious. It was right in front of her. But all she wanted to do was sleep.

  **Yes. Sleep. This was a mistake. Sleep, before it gets worse.**

  Tiana stumbled to her tent and slept.

  Chapter 17

  The Voice of Atalya

  AT MINEX’S DEMAND, Lisette sang to soothe the crowd, and singing, fell asleep herself. She woke up in the tent she shared with Tiana and Kiar, tucked under her blankets, certain the entirety of the day before had been a dream.

  Completely waking up was hard. Her head ached and her throat hurt. She put her hand over her eyes and said, “We mustn’t let Minex play music for us. No parties, either. I’ve had a foreboding.”

  Tiana, curled on her side with her eyes still closed, said, “I don’t know. I thought parts were nice.” The sword Jinriki rested near her back, scabbarded and quiet.

  Kiar sat with her back to the wall of the tent. “The parts where the earth fiend used her magic to influence our minds, or the parts where all the fights started breaking out?”

  Lisette rubbed her eyes and dragged herself out of her blankets. She’d really wanted it to be a dream, she thought wistfully. Things had been complicated enough yesterday morning. But no. That’s not how being a Regent worked.

  As she dragged a brush through her hair, Tiana sat up as well. “What do you mean, Minex used her magic?” She was being stubborn; Lisette could tell from her tone of voice that she knew exactly what Kiar meant.

  “Lord of Winter, Tiana. You’ve had enough people messing around in your head by now that you ought to notice these things. Or maybe you can’t anymore?” Kiar’s angry voice dropped away as she actually thought about what she was saying. Lisette flinched on Tiana’s behalf.

  But Tiana said, “Did you notice? Nobody seemed to notice.”

  Lisette had time to change her stockings before Kiar said, “I noticed. But it seemed harmless. You wanted to have a party. I didn’t think she’d hurt anybody. I didn’t think.”

  “Nobody got hurt. At least, I don’t think anybody got hurt. I’m fine, Kiar,” Tiana added sharply.

  “Minds aren’t meant to be splash pools for whatever fiend or Firstborn comes along, I’m pretty sure,” Kiar muttered. “We need to do something about the fiend so she doesn’t dare do this again.”

  “No!” said Tiana. “No. Jinriki says to leave her alone. He says it’s his fault. And I did suggest the party.”

  “Minex says dance. Jinriki says leave her alone. What does Tiana say?” Kiar demanded.

  Lisette turned around. “Lisette says don’t argue on an empty stomach, please. Change your stockings, both of you, and let’s see if we can find something that doesn’t require much cooking.”

  The cousins stared at each other belligerently instead. Lisette pursed her lips, then let herself out of the tent and stood in front of the entrance. The campsite was a mess and nobody was doing anything about it. Cathay, sitting in front of the fire, looked up and then came over to her.

  “How is she?” he asked in a low voice.

  “They’re both capable of arguing so you’re going to stay out,” she said firmly. “Tiana has enough people trying to influence her right now.”

  “I behaved last night,” Cathay protested mildly. “She wanted me to be a gallant, and I was. It was easy, even.” He looked so proud of himself.

  Lisette shook her head. “Is that lump by the fire Minex?” She glanced around. There were a few other lumps in the clearing, too; whoever had put her to bed hadn’t been as considerate of the guards who decided to curl up where they were standing.

  “Yes, it is,” said Cathay. “She won’t wake up, either. I wanted to ask her about the music.”

  “Can you wake the sleeping guards?”

  Cathay shrugged. “They groan when you poke them, so sure.” He didn’t move, though, as if she’d asked a theoretical question. She gave him a long, cool look, and he said, “So I’ll be going to wake the guards, shall I? They’re probably uncomfortable anyhow.”

  When he was gone, Lisette said softly, “Jinriki? What happened?”

  **She had good intentions, the earth fiend,** he said. **I will be displeased if anybody else punishes her for them. That is all you need to know.**

  **That is not all I need to know! Her music was intoxicating. Literally. And then she used my song to make everybody pass out.**

  **Yes, I was there.**

  “It matters,” Lisette whispered. “I prefer to be asked. You all keep defaulting to using magic to sort these things out and it doesn’t need to be that way.”

  **You have hands, a voice and a pretty face, little Regent. I have my mind, my magic and a sharp edge.**

  “Yes, but she’s got everything I have and some of what you have, too,” pointed out Lisette. “If she’s going to travel with us she needs to learn.”

  **Go find food, little Regent. Feed my princess. Do human things. Your whining is boring me.**

  Kiar’s voice drifted from the tent, “—just saying that you can’t know you’re not being hurt. You can’t just go along with what people tell you to do in the hopes they’ll approve of you, Tiana—”

  Suddenly Lisette couldn’t bear it anymore. The constant bickering between all three cousins, the single-minded focus of Cathay, the withdrawal of Tiana and the brooding of Kiar. She was just one Regent alone. Managing three of the Blood, and a fiendish sword and his earth fiend pet, it was too much for anyone.

  She yanked the tent open and said, “Cathay is waking the men. Make one of them cook. I’m going for a morning walk. Please, try not to kill each other while I spend five minutes alone.” Then she jerked the tent closed again, and walked away from the camp, all without actually looking at the charges part of her already felt she was abandoning.

  Nobody followed her. Short walks into the forest first thing in the morning were expected, after all. This was just going to be a short walk. The Chancellor of the Regency had taught Lisette that while it was her job to be patient and understanding and sensitive and a good counselor, it was best for everybody if she occasionally took time for herself.

  It had been so easy in Lor Seleni, though. Tiana was her best friend; usually, spending time with her was a pleasure. When Lisette wanted to go out alone, it was easy enough to arrange. Iriss and the other Regents liked Tiana too. She could safely leave Tiana alone reading a book, or taking a nap.

  Now every time she turned around, something was about to explode, and at the same time, she felt lonelier than ever before.

  She missed having somebody to talk to whom she wasn’t responsible for. An equal, independent and interested. Somehow everything had changed when Tomas died.

  The walk was nice, anyhow. That is, it took just enough focus to avoid twisting her ankle that she couldn’t spare much for worrying. It turned out reading about woodland adventures did very little to prepare you for the real thing. Fairy tales rarely talked about the bumpy ground. She had excellent boots, but they were made for riding. Walking on ground full of twigs and roots did require attention.

  Yet it wasn’t as unpleasant as it could have been. It was cold and overcast beyond the canopy but not raining, and the old leaves and ferns made the air smell pleasant, even by the privy pit. Alongside the narrow neck of the campsite, it felt pleasantly isolated. The sounds of the rousing campsite tapered off. She couldn’t even hear the argument at all, and she tried to convince herself it was already over. But at best she expected Tiana had gone off to sulk, with Kiar trailing behind, unwilling to give up.

  A blossoming vine hung from a branch to her left and she paused to examine the flowers, wary of any stinging insects. The pink and orange blooms had a refreshing cinnamon scent. Thoughtfully, she broke off some stems. She could do worse than collect seeds for the gardens back home. Especially given that they’d have to be completely replanted, maybe in a whole new location.

  A hissing startled her, and she froze, the flow
ers halfway to her nose. Something yowled long and low, like the cry of the sky fiend they’d faced the other day. Lisette stumbled backwards, looking around frantically. Leaves and trees and fallen wood—there! A yellow and black wildcat crouched in some underbrush below the hanging vine, its teeth bared and shockingly white.

  Her questing foot stepped on something that broke and twisted. She had time to think, I was doing so well, too, before her head cracked against an unexpected tree. Darkness fluttered around her and she flailed to stop herself from falling further, to protect her torso from any branches. Then she was curled up on the ground, staring at a tiny growth of moss that had spread like a crack in glass.

  She pushed herself to a sitting position, her head aching. An exploratory touch came back with crimson on her fingers, and a new surge of pain. She tried to cry out for help, but her tongue didn’t work right, and after a single attempt she gave up. Shame swelled up, almost as fast as the bump on her head. She would be the one who got into trouble in the woods. She was helpless here, far away from the glitter of the Court.

  Using the tree that had so painfully broken her fall, she climbed to her feet again and set out in the direction of the camp. After only a few steps, though, she turned around and staggered back the way she came. She needed more time before she could walk straight. Best not to get lost meanwhile. She put her hand on the tree again, but this time the bark was smooth, and there were no flowering vines. She squeezed her eyes shut against the ache in her skull and peered into the distance. Maybe it was that tree over there? Hard, rough bark under her fingers, but shouldn’t there be a mark where she’d bloodied her head?

  She entertained the dizzy thought that the tree had absorbed her blood, before fear began to percolate through her stunned perceptions. How could she be lost so close to camp? She concentrated on untangling her tongue. “Hello?” Hello.

  “Anybody? Help?” ... help?

  “Please!” she shrieked, the sound a splinter in her skull. And again came back the odd muffled echo ...Please! There was nothing else at all, no flutter of startled birds, no wildcat’s hiss.

  Perhaps she’d already scared them all away. That made sense. She was sensible. She needed to stay put and wait for somebody to find her. Preferably a friend. It was her job to be sensible, even through an aching head.

  Sensible... whispered the echo, though she hadn’t said the word.

  Despite her intentions, she ran. Sensible only worked when the forest wasn’t full of monsters.

  She burst into a clearing with a campsite. But there was no Tiana, no Kiar, and the men sitting around several campfires seemed far rougher than the Regency guards. They’d all removed their Regency tabards, too.

  She wavered to a stop in front of two big men standing near the edge of the clearing, and took in the fierce bearded faces and the abundance of swords and axes. One of them said something, although the words made no sense. She remembered looking into the darkness the night before and seeing the same man. She hesitated, wondering again if everything was a dream. The other scowled and reached out for her. She didn’t know him. Letting him grab her was unthinkable. She gasped an apology and turned and fled.

  Wrong camp. Who were they? Where were they? Where had the forest taken her? She tripped and rolled, leaving part of her skirt behind, and climbed to her feet behind another tree. She could hear water. They’d camped near a stream, and the little voice raging inside insisted that water was good.

  She found herself with wet feet. A stream trickled over a rock outcropping into a stone-lined pool, and thirst burned her throat. She drank. The water was cold and clean; the stones stretched all the way to the dark depths, like a natural fountain. She felt her skull again and, before she had time to reconsider, dunked her entire head under the water. The injury stung and burned but when she pulled her head out again, she could think clearly. The stinging faded to a dull, distant pain as she squeezed water out of her hair and looked around.

  The trees were... trees. They seemed like the same kind of trees they’d placed their camp among. A large white owl perched on the other side of the pool, looking at her with one eye.

  “Aren’t you out early?” she asked it, and was relieved to hear no strange echo.

  In response, the owl flapped over to her. She raised her arms to ward it off, and it settled onto her fist. It was far lighter than it looked, but very warm. Its gnarled toes and talons only pressed lightly against her skin, but it seemed to have a stable perch all the same.

  She tried to toss it back into the air. Its grip grew more painful before it flapped into the air and returned to its previous perch on a rock outcrop. It stepped back and forth uneasily before settling its feathers.

  “I don’t think you’re here to help me find my way back,” Lisette told it, and turned to leave the clearing. With a surprisingly human cry, the owl leapt into the air again, flying to intercept her. She kept her arms close to her sides, and her face down, but the owl landed on her head instead. The talons clenched on her injury and the sudden rush of pain made her sink to her knees. There was another burst of pain as it hopped off her head, to her shoulder and down to the ground.

  “What do you want?” Lisette whispered. It hopped back and forth again. Lisette rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hand, wiping away a blur of moisture. “Shall I follow you instead?” The owl flew back to the rock, turned its head around to look at her, and then flew to a branch. That seemed clear enough. Slowly, very carefully, she picked her way after it.

  The creature didn’t go far. The trees changed, becoming smooth-trunked and graceful. The green and gold fallen leaves crunched under her feet, and flowers glittered on vines. Beyond a particularly lovely pair of matched trees was a natural arbor with a stone shrine. On the far side of the shrine stood a pale androgynous statue on a pedestal, head bowed, hands clasped.

  The owl flew into the statue, like an eidolon returning to its creator, and the stone shape breathed. Its head lifted and emerald eyes burned. Great feathered wings erupted from its shoulders and flexed. Lisette finally wondered if she was even conscious, or if she was lying on the ground where she’d cracked her skull.

  The creature said, “Lisette,” in a golden voice and spread its hands. She shuddered like a plucked harp string and knew, in the place inside where her soul was bound to the heavens, that she was in the presence of a Secondborn. Not a confused or broken-down Secondborn like Jinriki and the sky fiends were supposed to be. She’d always wondered about that, but here there was no question. This was the child of a god. Trembling, she curtsied, and remained low. She’d felt on the brink for a while but now she knew she’d finally stumbled into a world where only fairy tales and myths could be her guide.

  It regarded her with undisguised amusement. “I am known as the Voice of Atalya. Welcome.”

  Cold prickles danced down Lisette’s spine. “I’m honored, Your Highness.” She met its blazing gaze. It knew her name. She wondered what else it knew about her.

  It brought its hands together again and said, “Do you enjoy games, Lisette?”

  She picked her words with care, because even in the grip of religious awe, she wasn’t going to dance into more trouble. Words were key in the fairy tales.

  Follow instructions precisely.

  Be careful what you promise.

  Do what you say you’ll do.

  Don’t lie.

  “I have in the past. It depends on the game.” After a hesitation, she added, “Tiana enjoys them more. I like results.” She felt certain that Tiana should be here with her. Tiana loved the fairy tales. Tiana was the Blood Princess. Tiana had already been chosen by Niyhan. Why was the Voice of Atalya talking to her?

  The Secondborn favored her with an illuminated smile. “That’s good, don’t you think? Are you Tiana’s guardian, Lisette?”

  That was an odd way of putting it. But what isn’t odd right now? “Yes, Your Highness. Not of her body, but her mind.”

  “Her soul.” It inclined its head
and tiny flowers bloomed in its white stone hair. “My Lady Atalya is also fond of games.” It said the Firstborn’s name like a prayer, a caress.

  Lisette nodded fractionally, waiting to see where the Secondborn was going.

  “Like a child, she views all the world as a game. But now, somebody has decided to wreck the game. What do you do, little guardian, when a game is no longer enjoyable?”

  Lisette stared at the living statue. Stop playing. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words, couldn’t believe that was what the Voice meant. But the Voice regarded her in a long silence, until Lisette understood silence wasn’t an option. “If I could, I’d fix the game. If I couldn’t, I’d find something else to do.”

  The Voice dipped its head again. “The Lady of Spring finds herself in such a situation. Some petition her to play the game differently, treat this foolish destroyer as a true player. Other supplicants beg her not to risk herself in a confrontation with something that obeys no rules. For if you change the way you play, the game itself changes. Even if the rule breaker is removed from the game, others will come. The game cannot be the same again.” It lowered its blazing gaze to its hands, flexing long fingers. “You see her dilemma.”

  Lisette wondered if this was a Secondborn after all, or some kind of new evil eidolon sent to spread despair. “But she will find an answer. She wouldn’t abandon that which is precious to her.”

  “Your faith, born far from her places of power, is charming. But it is a game. She has hidden her power away, behind a riddle, a paradox.”

  “And what is the riddle?”

  “That is the beginning. It is not a new riddle, but one as old as the game itself. Study the reflections of the Lady and know the riddle; find the true reflection and know the truth behind the paradox.”

  Lisette filed that away for later examination, and lowered her eyes. “Thank you for your words, Your Highness. I will convey them to my Princess as soon as I return to her.”