Dragonoak (63 page)

“Is
there something you wish to say?”

“It's not
easy
. My powers, my necromancy, might come to me naturally, but
none of this is easy, Kidira. I could kill you with a thought. I
could kill
anyone
, if I only wanted them dead. What if I get angry and it
slips from my mind? From the moment people found out I was, I've
had to deal with being shunned for crimes I didn't commit. I ran
away in the night with a stranger because it was better than
spending every day certain a mob was coming for me, ready to gut me
to purify whatever rot they thought I'd caused. I've moved through
lands where suspecting me of being a necromancer would be enough to
burn the flesh from my bones over and over, and I've been
used
.

“And the thing is, I don't have to let people treat me like
this. I could do all the things they fear and more, but I don't
want to use this power to
hurt
people. I want to use it to help them, and yet
I've...” I took a deep breath, pulling Kidira an inch closer before
letting go of her shoulder. “If I
am
what you think, if I am afraid,
you can thank your daughter.”

“Northwood,
”
Akela said, slamming a fist on the table.

Kidira
held out her hand, silencing her, and said, “... explain
yourself.”

“Ask Akela. Ask Claire. Hell, ask Kouris. You must've seen my
scars when you pulled me off that rock. Where do you think they
came from? Who do you think would be
that
obsessed with torturing a
necromancer?” I asked, willing my heart to slow for a moment more,
so that my own words weren't drowned out. “I guess that's what
happens when you raise someone and tell them that necromancers are
a thing to be burnt, not real people.”

Kidira's
fingers curled towards her palm and she didn't hit me.

No
longer aware of anyone's presence but her own, Kidira placed her
hands on the edge of the table, and rested all her weight on it.
Akela and Claire looked at one another, neither one daring to say a
word, and the ashes of what I'd said dried out my mouth and caught
in my throat.

My right
hand trembled and my fingers slipped from my wrist when I tried to
grasp it.

I'd
prepared myself for more hard words from Kidira, for her to have no
trouble expressing her contempt, but the anger that seeped from her
was more melancholic than forceful; she hadn't even called me a
liar.

Akela
moved towards her, about to place a hand on her shoulder, but
Kidira drew back in a way that she hadn't deigned to around
me.

Claire
was looking at me, she had to be, but I couldn't turn towards her.
Couldn't focus on Kidira, anymore. The wrong thoughts were flooding
my mind again, dimming my vision, blood under my nails. Chains.
Chains around my wrists, grinding against steel. Wrapping around
me, tighter and tighter, nausea rising within me, wanting to push
out everything, to force out the heart Katja hadn't slid her blades
into.

The door
slammed behind me, and I tore my way between pane, pushing open
doors that ought to have been too heavy for me, bursting into the
street, into the sunlight. The world spun but it wasn't enough to
clear my vision, not completely, and the only way to anchor myself
to Bosma was by finding a shade-covered gap between two cabins and
sitting with my arms around my knees, rocking,
breathless.

When
Claire tracked me down, close to an hour later, I hadn't calmed
down enough to be able to look up at her.

“I
know,” I grumbled into my knees. “I shouldn't have said that. It
was... cruel, I should've broken it to her gently. I
know.”

“You
shouldn't have been put in the position where you felt you had to
tell her that,” Claire said, ignoring any difficulty and sitting by
my side. “Either Akela or I ought to have told her before
this.”

“I don't get it,” I mumbled. “Akela's one of the nicest
people I've ever met. One of the nicest people in the
world
. She saved me, you
know. From Katja. If she hadn't turned up... I don't know. And then
there's
Kidira
,
and Akela looks at her like she's the sun. It doesn't make any
sense.”

“Kidira
isn't an awful person, Rowan. She has done more for the people of
the territories these past two years than you can imagine. She is
simply...” Claire paused and I spared a glance her way, seeing her
frown. “Being awful to you. Now that I've said it out loud, I don't
believe I ought to have made the distinction. I have spoken to her
about this before, and I shall speak to her again.”

I drew
my knees closer to my chest, head turned away from her.

“I'd rather have her trying to execute me. At least then I
wouldn't have to sit in a room with her treating me like
that
. Like I'm too
stupid to tell that she hates me,” I said, sighing. “... but I
really shouldn't have said that. I don't
want
to say things like that to
anyone, not even Kidira. I must've known it was going to hurt her,
right? I don't want to keep getting so angry, Claire.”

“It's
understandable,” Claire said, tentatively placing a hand between my
shoulder blades.

“So? I
don't want to act like that makes it okay,” I said, chin propped
back up on my arms. “I should go apologise to her.”

“If you
wish to speak to her, you ought to wait. Akela is currently doing
what she can to explain the situation,” Claire said. “I would give
it a few days, if I were you.”

The sun
was starting to set, sky turning a dusty red between the mountains.
There might've been pane looking for me around the fire pit in a
matter of hours, but the thought of getting to my feet was daunting
enough without then having to interact with strangers. Michael was
probably right, anyway.

“We now
have a plan, if nothing else,” Claire said in an effort to cheer me
up.

“Someone else would've figured out
go to Thule.
”

“Perhaps. But you're the only one with a dragon to offer
up.”

I
laughed sharply through my nose, and Claire took that to mean it
was safe to put an arm around me. I leant against her side and
swore I'd suggest getting to our feet, any moment now. This was
hardly the place for it: the ground was dry and chalky, and it
belatedly occurred to me that a pane could look out their window by
chance and see two humans huddled together on the
ground.

Hopefully, they'd assume it was just another human thing they
couldn't understand.

No
matter how Kidira had tried to dissect the plan, the path to Thule
was the only clear future I could see. I slipped an arm around
Claire's waist, and said, “What about Alexander? Won't he helps
us?”

“... I
cannot say. I have not heard word of him, these past two years. I
want to have faith in him, to say that he will, but I would've had
faith in Rylan, as well.”

I
paused, considering our options.

“What's
her name?”

“Hm?”
Claire caught my meaning a split-second after making the noise.
“Ah. Eden. Eden Hawthorn.”

I nodded
into her neck.

“What is
she like?”

“She's
wonderful,” Claire said distantly. “If I could only speak with her,
if I could only get her to understand, I know she would do whatever
she could for us.”

A change
of tune: a few hours ago, Claire had been convinced it was
hopeless.

I pulled
back, catching her eye and smiling softly. I said no more on the
matter and got to my feet, holding out both hands to help her up. I
took the gathering pain away as she rose with a grunt, and crouched
back down to retrieve her cane.

“We
should go see Sen,” I said, taking Claire's hand. “Not just for
food, I mean. Where's she staying?”

“A cabin
down the street from mine,” Claire said, leading the
way.

Many of
the businesses we passed were getting ready to shut for the day,
lanterns blown out in the backs of shops, doors closed but never
locked as the pane made their way home, or to the taverns. Pane
moved out of our way as we headed down the centre of the street,
smiling but never staring, and I decided that I'd go to the fire
pit tonight, even if my notices had remained unread all
day.

“Kouris... ?” Claire said, brow furrowed.

I
followed her gaze, watching a flash of orange tumble and tear
through the street, weaving through groups of pane who didn't
recognise her in the least.

I let go
of Claire's hand and ran to meet Kouris.

Skidding
to a halt, she held out a length of rolled parchment between her
claws, and spoke up before Claire had the chance to unravel
it.

“Looks
like that brother of yours is wanting to sit down and talk about
things. No pressure, of course,” Kouris said, “Unless we want the
Felheimish army marching on Kyrindval.”

CHAPTER XXIII

Kouris
brought a bundle of dried sticks from a nearby thicket of trees, as
well as a goat. It stuck close to her heels, bleating curiously
when she moved too fast for its liking, entirely oblivious to what
the pane's favourite meal happened to be.

The sun
had set behind the mountains but not the horizon, leaving us with
just enough light to build the fire by. Claire twisted the roll of
parchment between her fingers as Kouris and I snapped and stacked
the sticks atop one another, urging the flames to take
form.

It was
the warmest it'd been at night since I returned to Asar. Canth's
sun was slowly becoming a product of my imagination; it was dark
out and we were high in the mountains, yet I kept tugging the stiff
collar of my shirt and rolled my too-long sleeves up to my elbows.
I might not have been yearning for Canth's searing heat, but a
ship's worth of loyal pirates wouldn't have gone amiss.

“I'm not
going,” Claire said decisively, after we'd spent a handful of
minutes purposely not looking at one another. I'd placed myself
between Claire and Kouris around the fire, and from the corner of
my eye, I saw Kouris turn to look at Claire as I did. “If it is not
a trap – which it undoubtedly is – I cannot afford for Rylan to
think that I will come running at his every beck and
threat.”

Kouris growled in agreement, and I said, “Someone should go.
It might be a trap, but he might really have
something
to say that'll help us.
Plus, we have to do whatever we can to steer him away from
Kyrindval.”

“Aye. I'm not about to ignore this,” Kouris said, raking her
claws through her hair in frustration. “Any idea
how
your brother turned
out like that, Ightham?”

Claire
took a moment to consider the question, as she had a hundred times
before.

“I wish I could say. Rylan and I grew apart in recent years,
that much is true, but that was a product of circumstance. Nothing
between
us
changed, and he did not suddenly start displaying a penchant
for senseless war,” Claire said. “I believe at some point he took a
single wrong step and decided to take a thousand more to eradicate
that one mistake, rather than turn back and face the consequences
of his actions.”

Rocking forward, I wrapped my fingers around the neck of
Kouris' waterskin and pulled it into my lap, pushing the cap off
with a
pop
.
Glancing between the two of them, waiting for something more to be
said, I brought the waterskin to my mouth and took a sip. A bitter,
unexpected taste told me it was ale, not water.

On the
verge of being grateful to suddenly have something to calm my
nerves after the day that had just unfolded, I caught sight of
Claire and swallowed thickly, grimacing as though there was poison
in my throat. Carefully putting the cap back on, I placed the
waterskin in the long grass, out of reach.

“I'll be
going. I'll take Akela and Kidira along with me,” Kouris said as I
wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “That way you'll have
Rowan, just in case anything happens.”

“No,” I
said, wanting Claire to take back the way she nodded in agreement.
“I'm going. Akela can stay with Claire, if we need to leave someone
here.”

If only
Claire would've been safer with Kidira than Akela I could've found
a way to leave her behind.

“It
could be a trap, Rowan,” Claire reminded me sternly. “You're better
off here.”

“The
entire Felheimish army probably knows that I'm a necromancer by
now. If anything's going to keep them at a safe distance, it's
me.”

“...
she's got a point,” Kouris allowed. “If they're gonna be dragging
us down there, we should be doing all we can to turn the odds in
our favour.”

Claire
wasn't happy with the idea, but I would've rather she protested
than sit there in silence. She stared into the fire, and I knew
there was nothing more I could do for her than go in her place and
try to get the answers to some of the questions that had plagued
her for years.