Dragonoak (24 page)

It was strung up amongst corpses of the men he'd sent to
assault the town, and someone brought a pig's head, freshly
severed, to decorate it with. Exhausted to the point where I
couldn't tell if I wanted to cheer or cry, I tried to head back to
the hut, but dozens of people insisted that I stayed, that I let
them buy me a drink. I glanced over at Reis and Kouris and found
them smiling, fiercely proud of what I'd done and not caring in the
least
how
I'd
gone about it.

The
celebrations lasted through the night and into the morning, and it
was almost midday before I managed to slip away. I'd never had so
many people come up and thank me for what I'd done, despite knowing
exactly what I was, and I clung to all the warmth of Mahon as I
collapsed on my bed, achingly aware of how much I didn't want to
leave, and how much I needed to be back in Asar.

*

It was
dark when I awoke. I found Varn sitting in the hut, feet up on the
table as Reis worked away at the other end, no doubt drawing up
plans for Mahon's restoration. The sight of them both sharing the
same space so contentedly made me wonder whether I was still
dreaming, and I stepped out with a yawn, waving at them
both.

“About
time,” Reis said. “Thought you were gonna sleep for an
age.”

“I
didn't get to bed until midday,” I said, stretching my arms above
my head, feeling every bone in my body crack.

“Midday
last week
,” Reis said, setting their quill down.

I glanced between Reis and Varn, wondering if this was some
joke they were both in on, but it didn't
feel
wrong. After all I'd done, I
should've been exhausted, but there wasn't even a drop of alcohol
left in my blood to wreak havoc with my head and
stomach.

“Ain't nothing to worry about,” Varn reassured me. “One time,
right, Kondo-Kana fell asleep in the Queen's study. You know, the
place you met Her Majesty and made a right fool of yourself.
Anyway, so Kondo-Kana falls asleep where the Queen works, so Her
Majesty just piles up her letters and scrolls and documents on top
of her when she runs out of space. That goes on for eleven days,
until Kondo-Kana suddenly wakes up, knocking all of the Queen's
work onto the floor. You shoulda seen it. Queen Nasrin didn't talk
to her for a
week
.”

I
furrowed my brow, wondering how that was supposed to make me feel
better, and Reis let out a hint of a laugh. I must've been asleep
longer than a week, if Varn was managing to tolerate
them.

The
thought of seeing Kondo-Kana again put a smile on my face, and I
headed over to find something to eat as though it was just another
ordinary day and Varn wasn't dying to get out of Mahon.

As
though word had spread that I was finally awake, Atthis turned up
while I was still shovelling food into my mouth. He hadn't been at
the celebrations, and I hadn't had time to wonder how he'd react to
it all. Since waking, the only thing I'd had the presence of mind
to worry about was how empty sleeping for a week had made my
stomach, but Atthis didn't allow fear to flicker through my mind.
He was smiling too widely to despise what I'd done, and I chewed my
food faster, unable to say anything when he put an arm around my
shoulders.

“You did
it, Rowan,” he said. “You really did it.”

The fact
that we were returning to Asar overshadowed what I'd had to do to
get us this far, and I couldn't help but notice the restlessness
that had consumed him. It wasn't any surprise. No doubt the others
had been eager for me to wake, bags already packed.

But
there was something more to it. I looked at Atthis, wondering, and
he caught my eye and said, “Ah, come. Let's speak
outside.”

I knew
what he was going to say before we reached the end of the pier. I
could feel his words in the way he looked at me, and only needed
him to ask what he had to so that I might be given the chance to
form an answer. I wrapped my arms around myself, ignoring the heat
that night brought no refuge from, waiting warily as he prolonged
the inevitable.

“It's
Katja,” he eventually said, having found no way around speaking her
name. “Now that we know we're to leave, we were wondering what's to
be done with her. Reis is willing to keep her in the jail,
indefinitely, if needs be, but—”

“We'll
take her with us,” I said, not blinking. “She comes back with
us.”

Atthis
frowned, wanting to ask how the words had come to me so suddenly,
if not easily, and I could've trembled with relief when he didn't
ask me why I insisted on taking her back to Asar with us. I didn't
know. All I knew was that I couldn't stand to have an ocean between
us; that far away, I wouldn't know where she was, what she was
doing. Who she'd tricked into letting her walk free.

If she
went with us, if I dragged her back to Kastelir, then I could
deceive myself into thinking I had some modicum of control over the
situation.

“It's
your choice, Rowan,” Atthis said. “We'll stand behind
it.”

I nodded
furiously, not wanting to meet his gaze.

“I know.
Just... leave with her before we go, please. I don't want to see
her. I can't travel with her. Not yet,” I said, crouching on the
edge of the pier, arms wrapped around my knees.

“Of
course,” he said, “We all understand, Rowan. And we're all proud of
you, too.”

I smiled
at that, still a little shaky, and decided that was what I had to
focus on. The fact that I'd earnt us a way home and that we were
moving forward, thanks to me; I had no choice but to linger on what
had been done to me, but I couldn't let it be the only thought that
rattled around my head.

*

There
was no saying goodbye to everyone in Port Mahon.

My bags
were packed. I'd gathered up clothing for the journey, along with
all the trinkets from my room I had space for. I took a handful of
shells, the golden phoenix and the wolf Reis had carved me, and
wrapped the book I'd spent nights running my fingers over in shirts
to stop it from getting scuffed. Reis told me not to worry about
the rest. They'd leave everything where it was, awaiting my return,
whenever that might be.

No matter who I said goodbye to, the response was always the
same.
See ya later,
Felheim
. People drifted in and out of
Mahon, disappearing for months or years at once, and no one wasted
time on drawn-out goodbyes when they were convinced I'd be back,
sooner or later. They were right. It was only once I was leaving
that I truly appreciated how I'd settled within myself
there.

I'd come
back, once the dragons were dealt with. I'd be the Necromancer of
Port Mahon, if that's what people needed me to be.

Reis
walked with us to the stables, intent on seeing us off. Atthis and
Katja had left earlier that morning, and I stared deeper into
Canth, at the road ahead of us, reminding myself that we'd catch up
to them eventually, once we reached the palace gates.

“It
wasn't bad having you around again, Varn,” Reis said as she climbed
up into the carriage. “Bring Atalanta down next time,
alright?”

Varn
rolled her eyes, but there was no missing the smile she was trying
to bite back.

Akela
took my bags and said, “Reis, I am enjoying this little vacation
very much, but I am afraid we are having to get back to work, now.
But I am thanking you for being such a gracious host, yes. This
town of yours, it is very nice.”

Reis
laughed, shook her hand, and none of us could ignore the last thing
Akela piled into the carriage. Gavern's head, wrapped in strips of
cloth, dusted with bitterwillow to stop it from going to rot too
quickly.

“Thanks.
Thanks for everything you did for us,” I said to Reis, determined
to keep smiling. It was my choice to leave. No one was tearing me
away. “I don't know what we would've done without you.”

“Nonsense. You did this town a real service,” they told me.
“Don't go forgetting that. And don't look so bloody glum. You'll be
back before you know it. We'll probably still be rebuilding the
damn port.”

Akela
helped me up into the carriage, and I sat opposite her, watching as
Kouris knelt down, arms held open. Trying not to smirk, Reis
stepped forward and grabbed one of Kouris' horns, tugging her head
to the side.

“Get out
of here, you,” was all they said, and Kouris obliged.

The
carriage rolled to an unsteady start and Kouris strode alongside
us, neither wishing to splinter the carriage nor put too much
strain on the horses. I watched as Reis disappeared and Mahon faded
along with them, telling myself that it wasn't forever. I was a
necromancer. I had decades within me. Centuries. I could afford
time away from Mahon, if it meant straightening out my
thoughts.

The
journey to Chandaran wasn't any more thrilling than it'd been the
first time. Our thoughts were occupied by Asar, but none of us
wanted to speak up, lest we give each other the impression we were
getting our hopes up, expecting to find more than a scattered
resistance and a few surviving settlements. We stopped at the same
inns I'd visited with Varn and Atalanta, and once the innkeepers
realised that Kouris was a pane, a dragon-born, they were only too
happy to serve her up all the raw meat in the
establishment.

Varn and
Akela arm-wrestled over the table, proving it wasn't impossible for
Akela to be bested, and I found that sleep wouldn't return to me. I
couldn't tell whether it was the result of having claimed so much
of it throughout the previous week, or whether nerves were to
blame. The closer we drew to Chandaran, the more I wished to return
to Port Mahon. I looked ahead and all I could think was that Katja
was there, waiting for me. Yet I knew if I'd left her behind, I
would've felt as though I could never return to Mahon. I would've
spent the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.

There was no turning back, I thought, seeing the city in the
distance. I'd committed myself to this, I reminded myself as we
rolled through the busy streets. The Queen had asked
me
to bring Gavern's
head, had made a promise to
me
, I repeated over and over as the
palace came into view.

Atthis
and Katja were there, waiting.

They
hadn't been allowed in without Varn's authority, and as we climbed
out of the cart, I did all I could not to look at Katja.

She made
it as hard for me as she possibly could. She didn't shrink from me,
didn't take her eyes off me for a second. I glanced her way,
determined to get it over with, to prove to myself that it wasn't
as bad as I was imagining it to be. There were dark marks smudged
beneath her eyes and she looked as though a fever had gripped her,
though I felt nothing untoward welling up within her. Her hair was
all askew, and the moment my eyes met hers, her mouth twitched into
a smile.

“Good morning. Kouris, Akela,” Katja said, and the sound of
her voice told me there was fear within me still. Fear that
wouldn't be silenced by reason. “What a lovely day to embark on an
eight-week journey across the ocean. Honestly, I don't know
why
we're leaving Canth.
I like it here. There is life and charm within the place, if one
can look past all the debauchery. What
is
there for us in Kastelir? Do tell
me, for I wonder so. Our castle is but rubble and ash and Isin a
memory. And my mother—oh, my mother is dead. There are not even
bones in a crypt for me to visit!”

“Kouris,
that's enough,” Atthis said, stepping through the gates as they
were opened for us.

But
Katja wouldn't be silenced, not while I was around her. She forced
nothing upon me, didn't send sickness shooting to my stomach, but
her words proved crueller than all that.

“What
do
you think is going to be waiting for us, Rowan? Do you truly
believe that Claire will be there, faithful and unchanged? Alive,
more than anything?” Everyone halted. Even Varn, who'd never heard
the name before. My blood burnt white-hot and the world dimmed as I
stared at her. Had the ground opened up and swallowed her whole,
crushing her in its maw, it wouldn't have been enough to sate the
anger that paralysed me. “Oh, come now. Don't give me
that
look. If you'll
recall, darling, I wasn't the one who brought Claire up, was
I?”

“Katja
," I warned, but she silenced
me with a smile.

“Not saying please this time, hm?” she asked, and with a
dreary sigh, said, “You really will never guess what Rowan said to
me. I'd taken her hand, you see, and there she was, curled up on
the floor, sobbing out
Claire, Claire,
Claire
. It was all so embarrassingly
pathetic that I thought I should faint.”

No one
was looking at Katja anymore.

Kouris, Atthis, Akela and Varn were looking at me and
they
knew.
Akela
had seen what Katja had done for herself, but the others had
believed that Katja had pushed knives into me, and that'd been it;
they hadn't through for a moment that she'd stolen something from
me.