Dragonoak (58 page)

I'd
little doubt that tales of Queen Kouris were as popular in
Kyrindval as they were in Felheim, and though the young pane in all
likelihood had been warned against turning out like her time and
time again, they had no idea that the woman on the rock had stepped
straight out of a story. And why should they: Queen Kouris was
dead, and Zentha gained nothing in setting the record
straight.

“Morning, yrval,” Kouris called.

Having
spent the night staring into the warmth of a tribe she couldn't set
foot in hadn't done anything to dampen her spirits.

“Morning,” I said, taking her hand and letting her pull me
atop the rock. The young pane lost interest in the goat and stared
up at me, and the goat lost interest in the pane and went back to
chewing the long grass. “Looks like I have a place to stay and
something to do. Zentha says it's alright if I help the pane learn
Canthian and Mesomium.”

“That'll
be a change of pace for you,” Kouris said, waving off the young
pane when they kept staring, “Reckon you won't be half bad at it,
either.”

I
slumped against her side, not holding onto my smile for
long.

“I'm
really sorry about Iseul, Kouris,” I said. “I wish I could tell you
what happened to him at the end, but it made as much sense to you
as it did to me. Maybe Kondo-Kana would know...”

“It's not so much the end that's troubling me. That sort of
release... well, it's what he needed. Problem is, I can't stop
thinking about how much they put him through. He was there
for
decades
,
yrval. Longer than you've been alive. If he'd only stayed in Canth
with me,” she murmured. “He was just so eager to get back home.
Never did like the sun much.”

“Gods. No wonder they never executed necromancers in
Felheim,” I said, astonished that I'd once believed Kastelir
treated us worse than my homeland. “If they executed them, people
would want to
watch
, and they'd really have to kill them. They wouldn't be able
to use them.”

There
had to be more necromancers involved, somehow. I'd met two in as
many years and hadn't even been looking; surely the King and Queen
could find dozens of them with a whole Kingdom on edge, ready to
turn against a necromancer at the slightest provocation.

“What
are you going to do now? You can't sit here staring at Kyrindval
forever, and you know Kidira's safe,” I said.

“Reckon
I ought to be finding some way to do right by the pane,” Kouris
said, slowly. I could tell she'd mulled it over, and more than
once. “When I say all I've ever tried to do is help the pane,
there's nothing but truth in that. I've just not gone about it in
the best way, in the past. But maybe I can do something that won't
make 'em turn their backs on me.

“What with Kastelir being taken apart, I was thinking...
what's to stop me doing what I can to reclaim
our
land? The humans haven't even
been using most of it. They just don't want us down there. Suppose
I should be heading back to Orinhal, where I can be of
use.”

I looked
up at her, a little proud.

“As long
as you can find a way to do it without putting a sword through
anyone, I think the pane would appreciate that,” I said. “... are
you still angry at me? About Oak?”

“Now,
yrval,” Kouris began, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling
me onto her knee. “I was never angry. Not at all. Just being back
in Kastelir – or what's left of it – reminded me of all I'd done
wrong, and I wasn't thinking clearly. Wasn't being fair about
things. I know you did nothing wrong.”

“Because
you saw how useful Oak is,” I said flatly.

“Because
I know you'd never do anything to hurt anyone,” Kouris replied
without missing a beat. “Not if you could help it. I got ahead of
myself, that's all. I was stuck in a past that wasn't even
mine.”

Sighing,
I knelt in her lap, and pressed my lips against her cheek. Kouris
wouldn't have been the first pane to pick up a sword if she didn't
have such a short temper, from time to time, but I'd been unkind to
her in the past, too, and I knew she had no intention of ever
repeating her actions.

Not
needing to tell her that I didn't want her to leave but wouldn't
stop her from doing what she had to, I tucked myself against her
side, taking in the view of the mountains all around. Only the
tallest were dusted with more than a sprinkling of snow at their
very peaks, and as the dragons slumbered deep within the mountains,
fledgling birds practised swooping from branch to
branch.

The
landscape was timeless, unobstructed, until Akela came running into
view, waving her arms above her head.

CHAPTER XXI

“
Northwood!
Kouris!” Akela called, voice bouncing between the
mountains.

The
stomping of her boots was almost enough to wake the dragons. She
skidded to a stop in front of us, dropped her axe to the ground and
placed her hands on her knees as she leant forward, gasping for
breath. I'd only ever seen her cheerfully exhausted before and
jumped out of Kouris' lap, not missing the dried blood splattered
across the blade of her axe.

“What is
it?” I asked, grabbing her shoulders and helping her stand up
straight. “Has something happened to Orinhal?”

“Yes.
No. It is...” Akela placed her hands on the small of her back,
puffing out a heavy breath towards the sky. “I am running alongside
a pane, I am not being made for this.”

Kouris
slipped off the rock, handing Akela the waterskin hanging at her
hip.

She
wanted to know what had happened – or hadn't happened, as the case
may have been – as much as I did, but remained silent as Akela
fumbled to get the cap off the waterskin, tilting it back and
ending up with water escaping the corners of her mouth, running
down her chin.

“Ah.
That's better, yes,” she said, wiping the water from her mouth.
“The town I am going to investigate, it is a trap. We are returning
to Orinhal and Rylan, he is there. He is claiming the city for
himself.”

“How do
you take a city like Orinhal?” Kouris asked, growling from the back
of her throat.

“You are having a bigger army, and you are also taking a
dragon,” Akela said, teeth grinding together. “And are you knowing
what the worst thing is? He is saying that he is there to
help
, that Ightham, she
is committing crimes against the crown in Felheim, and this is why
she is spreading rumours about his intentions. And people, they are
believing this! After all that Ightham is doing for them, they are
taking that man's word!”

“What
about Claire? Where is she?” I asked, gripping Akela's
arm.

Claire
had been through too much already. If Prince Rylan had taken her
along with Orinhal, I was ready to storm down there with a dragon
of my own.

Akela
tilted her head towards her axe.

“There
are riots, of course. I am having to cut my way through Rylan's
soldiers, but I am reaching the tower, and Sen, she is helping
Ightham escape. Right now, they are making their way up the
mountain. I am running ahead and making sure all is safe
here.”

I ran my
fingers through my hair, turning on the spot.

“Okay,
okay. Claire's coming here? To Kyrindval?” I said, barely having
had the chance to start missing her. “We should tell Zentha or
whoever's in charge. If Rylan's after her, then nothing's going to
stop the Felheimish getting up the mountain.”

There
went my plans of settling into Kyrindval in my own time. I hadn't
yet secured a place to stay and already trouble had found its way
to the tribe, as if it had been hot on my heels all along. I did
what I could not to make it all about me. I reminded myself that
Kyrindval had long since had ties to Claire, that I couldn't be
blamed for what Prince Rylan had chosen to do.

Claire
was safe, and that was what mattered. Orinhal might've been taken,
but the city remained and its inhabitants didn't have to face fire
once again.

“Go
ahead,” Kouris said. “I'll keep an eye out for 'em.”

Akela
left her bloodied axe behind, not wanting to alarm the pane.
Exhausted though she was, I had to jog to keep up with her wide
strides. The streets were busier than they had been when I left,
and Akela weaved between the pane, lodge fixed firmly in her
sights. I mumbled apologies for the both of us, doing what I could
to avoid being stepped on, and made it to the lodge a few paces
behind Akela.

The
queue had died down, but a few stragglers remained around the
doors, debating whether they actually wanted to trouble any of the
pane within. Akela made straight for the door but the pane standing
there held out a hand, informing her she had to wait her turn like
everyone else.

Not
understanding a word of it, Akela said, “What? I am needing to
speak with Zentha, yes, and it is more important than anything
these pane are coming to say.”

The pane
similarly didn't understand what Akela was saying. I stepped
forward, about to translate for them both, when the pane's ears
perked up. Hearing someone approach, she moved to the side to let
them pass, and all urgency deserted Akela as Kidira stepped out of
the lodge.

She was
distracted, busy sorting through the scrolls she'd put into her
bag, and near enough walked into Akela as she pulled the straps
tight.

Kidira
clicked her tongue, about to ensure whoever had blocked her path
never made the same mistake again, but when she looked up, all the
hardness and spite etched into her bones was filed away until I
barely recognised her. She didn't blink, didn't breathe, but it was
like watching the wind relinquish its strength.

“...
Commander,” she managed after a long moment, and none missed the
way she was forced to swallow the lump in her throat
first.

Akela
let out a heavy breath, hands forming fists, releasing, reaching
for Kidira.

She
didn't get that far.

Falling
to her knees, Akela placed her hands on Kidira's hips, her forehead
against her stomach.

“My
Queen,” she murmured, clinging on tighter when Kidira's hands found
their way to her shoulders, the back of her head. “... I am
home.”

Kidira
stared down at the top of Akela's head, fingers twisting in her
hair, ponytail coming loose.

“I am no
Queen,” she said gently, cupping Akela's face and guiding her back
to her feet. “Do not kneel before me.”

Akela
laughed, and the sound trickled into my chest.

“And I,
I am no Commander.”

Bowing
her head, Akela kissed Kidira's forehead, eyes closing as though
they need never open again.

“Akela,”
Kidira said, correcting herself.

“Kidira,” Akela said in turn.

Hands
still cupping Akela's face, Kidira brushed her thumbs beneath her
eyes and drew her close, bringing their lips together. Akela placed
one hand against the back of Kidira's head, and I shoved my hands
into my pockets, kicking a loose rock and watching it tumble
towards the fire pit. The pane who'd been guarding the door caught
my eye and laughed mutely.

“... what
are
you doing here?” Kidira said, letting me know it was safe to
turn back around. She was standing away from Akela, as though the
distance between them had never been breached. “I was about to
leave for Orinhal.”

Akela
moved away from joy, face greying as she shook her head.

“Orinhal, it is standing, but I am having to flee here, I am
having to bring Ightham and Sen,” Akela said. “Come, come. Zentha,
they are needing to know what news I am bringing, so that Kyrindval
is remaining safe.”

“Rylan?”
Kidira asked coldly, turning back towards the lodge.

“Rylan,”
Akela confirmed, and the pane at the door knew better than to tell
Kidira she had to get in line.

“Zentha.
We need to talk. Now,” Kidira said, stood in the centre of the
lodge. “Everyone else. Out.”

Not a
single pane thought twice about questioning Kidira. Chair legs
scraped across the floor as the pane rose to their feet, tea left
to go cold, biscuits gathered up on the way out. A few of them
looked towards Zentha, aware of what discussions with Kidira
brought, these days, and Zentha gestured for them to be on their
way.

“You
don't have to snap out orders like that, Kidira,” Zentha said,
pushing the plate of biscuits towards her when she rested her hands
on the edge of the table. “They'll listen to you
regardless.”

“There
isn't any time for niceties,” Kidira stated. There was, apparently,
time for biscuits. She bit into one as though it were somebody's
throat. “Claire's on her way, along with Sen. Rylan has
Orinhal.”

Akela
was busy dragging chairs over for what was soon to be the five of
us, but Kidira refused to take a seat. Zentha sighed, dragged a
hand across their face, unaware of how they'd managed to become so
entangled with little friends and their troubling penchant for
war.