Forest Born (13 page)

Part Three

The Castle

Chapter 14

T
he moon lit the castle from behind, scratching its jagged outline across a blue-black sky. Much smaller than the palace in Bayern’s capital, this border fortress was built of connected towers with toothy tops. Rin could hear the occasional bawl of cattle, for Kel was as seemingly full of cows as the Forest was of squirrels. It was a comforting sound, a reminder that there were creatures who did not know about crossbow bolts and fire-speakers, and were just happy to smell late-summer grass.

Just beyond the field, Rin felt the pull of trees. A wood. A place to hide. She began to veer that way, hating the open plain where anyone might spot them by the garish light of that white moon.

Dasha’s arm was still in hers, so Rin pulled the Tiran girl along.

“This does seem too open, doesn’t it, Isi?” said Dasha.

Ahead stood three dark figures. Rin startled and Dasha made a dry scream. How had Isi’s wind not given warning? Then Rin noticed their huge height, their stillness. Three pillars of stacked stones, standing three men high, side by side as if guarding the wood.

“They’re cairns,” said Isi. “Built both to honor the gods in the wood and to keep them there.”

“Why?” asked Enna.

“Gods in the wood are good luck. Gods roaming free get involved in people’s lives.”

Rin could tell from Isi’s voice that she did not believe in sacred cairns or gods in the wood, but as they passed by the third pillar, Enna’s face was full of curiosity and reverence. Rin herself felt something peculiar just seeing the cairns, as if she were looking at the body of someone she used to know.

“I think the cairns are the way of the clerics and the people to say, we know there is something more, but we don’t know what,” Isi went on. “So we give it shape, and that shape may be the wrong shape, but it’s there to remind us of what we can’t see. The wrongness of it is what makes us think. The error in what we made will bring us the truth.”

“That makes me think of the sea . . .” Dasha sighed, a sound of longing. “We see the surface, blue or silver or gray, and waves hitting the shore. But we know there’s so much we can’t see, so what we love about it becomes in part what we imagine it is hiding.”

Isi stopped. The other girls halted just as suddenly, waiting for whatever news Isi heard on the wind. Isi began to turn, looking for a source.

“They’re staying downwind, but I got a glimpse. Armed men. Over . . .” She pointed vaguely to her right, then behind them. Enna’s hands were in fists.

“The wood,” Rin urged. She used to love night, when the worst thing hiding in the darkness was one of her brothers tiptoeing to pull a prank. Now night was full of burners and swords and bolts, and Rin’s skin ached for trees to shield her. Enna and Isi turned as they walked, scanning the darkness.

“They could pick us off with arrows,” Dasha said, her voice trembling.

Isi shook her head. “No, they’re too far behind us. Enna, do you hear anything?”

“Wait.” Enna stopped. “They’re ahead of us, too.”

All stopped. Enna and Isi were listening—not with their ears, Rin knew, but in some other way, sensing wind and heat. The lurkers must have been close, because Isi or Enna pulled a wind to circle around the four girls. Rin hoped it was thick enough to toss away arrows and protect them from fire.

A moment later, a group of soldiers came running from the wood, swords raised.

“Enna, heat their weapons out of their hands,” said Isi. “I’ll take their breaths. Dasha, can you sink them where they stand?”

Dasha nodded.

“I’m going to release the wind now.”

The circling wind died, and Rin could feel light vibrations of wind and heat; then the soldiers were dropping swords and gasping as if the air had been pulled right out of their lungs. While they gasped and stumbled, the ground beneath their feet was getting wetter, deep ground water rising up through the dirt and soaking it through, mud as deep as their knees seizing the soldiers’ boots and holding them fast. When the breeze stilled and the men could breathe again, they found themselves stuck in mud, unable to take a step.

“None of them are fire-speakers,” Enna said, apparently able to tell from a distance.

“Who sent you?” Isi’s voice was hard. “Tell us now or worse things will happen than muddy boots. Who ordered your attack?”

Isi repeated her demand in Kelish, but they did not answer. Perhaps the soldiers guessed that it was an idle threat, or perhaps the threats of their own leader were more dire.

“Isi,” Dasha said. “It seems likely that whoever burned the inn would know we could handle this many soldiers.”

Isi looked toward the castle. “She’s planning something.”

Enna turned her back to Isi, facing the other direction, and Dasha the same, the fire sisters forming a triangle, scanning the horizon for coming danger.

“Rin, take cover,” Isi said.

Rin wanted to stay. She did not feel in danger with those girls—stepping away from them and into the darkness, that seemed riskier. So she did not go far, just a couple dozen steps to the nearest cairn, putting the massive stack of stones between herself and the castle. Her boots were coated with Dasha’s mud, and she scraped them off with a rock.

“Maybe we should—,” Enna started.

A bonfire of wood blazed so suddenly, Rin had no doubt a fire-speaker had done the job. She peered around the edge of the stones. There, where the outer wall of Castle Daire touched the wood, a fire burned beneath a massive tree. A metal cage dangled from a branch, high enough that the flames did not touch it. But if the cage slipped, it would fall directly into the fire.

Two people were in the cage. A boy holding a child. And Rin knew them. She knew the shape of them, the size of them. She wished she was mistaken, wished so hard her head ached.

“Who . . . ,” Dasha began to ask.

“No,” Isi breathed. “No. No. No.”

Isi knew. And so, with a sickening drop of her stomach, Rin was certain too—the boy in the cage was Razo, and the child was Tusken.

Isi took one step forward and the bonfire died. Wind whipped up, knocking down anyone standing between Isi and the cage. Rin half-expected the entire castle to explode in flame, but before Isi could do anything more, a voice cut through the wind and night. A woman’s voice, her accent neither Kelish nor Bayern. A pleasing voice.

“Now please stay calm. There’s no cause for an ado. All will be well. I will not hurt you. It would benefit everyone if you would listen for a moment. I know you are curious to understand why you are here. You want to end this peacefully, so it is wise to listen before you strike.”

Out of the shadows, a slim figure walked forward. Her face was not yet visible, but Isi gasped. “Get away, all of you,” Isi commanded. “Enna, Dasha, go. Go now!”

“No, don’t, please. It would be better if you stayed.”

And they stayed. Rin felt turned to wood. More than anything, she wanted to hear that voice again. And the figure kept advancing. She moved in such a way that Rin was sure she was aware of her hips and liked them a great deal. Her robes were made of a loose pink fabric that clung to her curvier parts. Her pale hair, silvery in the night, hung loose over her shoulders, and made her appear tall, lean, almost luminous. In all, she seemed the most beautiful creature alive. It was easy to watch her and forget about Razo and Tusken in the cage.

Do something quick,
Rin thought, though she did not move. Neither did the fire sisters. Dasha’s expression was curious, Enna’s was rigid as if she were in great pain. Isi’s was stiff with horror.

Isi spoke one word. “Selia.”

Chapter 15

H
ere I am!” said the woman, lifting a hand as if to present herself. The bonfire blazed anew, and Selia was lit from behind in orange and gold, as grand and unearthly as the stone pillars, but sinuous as a snake.

She kept moving forward. “And overjoyed to see you. Truly. I’ve been simply breathless to—Now, Enna, be calm. Terrible things will happen if you burn me. Terrible things. I think you believe me, don’t you? Yes, you do, poor thing. I am awfully convincing. There is really no choice but for you to listen. Calmly, politely. Unclench those fists there, Crown Princess.” She’d reached Isi, and she picked up Isi’s fist and smoothed her hand straight. There was no hesitation in her fluid motions, no fear in her face. “That’s better. As I was saying, I am completely overjoyed to welcome you to my kingdom. You are the honey cake for my feast. And I cannot wait to eat you up. Easy now, Anidori. Just stand there, harmless please. If you hurt me, your son loses his head at once.”

Besides, why bother? Selia said there was no way to save the boys, and surely she was right. And her voice was so reassuring. The more Rin listened, the more the delicious sound of Selia’s words crept inside, roosted in her like a flock of sleepy birds, happy to be home. Rin almost smiled at the thought. She liked birds. She was feeling cozy and safe, like birds at home in their trees . . .

“A word of advice? The next time you take it in your head to execute someone, dig up the courage to do it yourself. You can’t trust anyone these days, can you? It takes courage to kill, Crown Princess. Real courage. Time and again, you’ve proven that you don’t have it.” Selia put a hand under Isi’s chin and whispered, “But I do.” She kissed Isi on the lips, like a little girl might kiss a precious doll.

Enna hissed and fire burst at Selia’s hem, making her take two steps back in surprise. But in an instant the fire was gone, as if sucked away by a fire-speaker, and Selia shook the smoke out of her skirt. She smiled tenderly at Enna. “No more of that, Enna. Be a good girl.” She pressed her cheek to Enna’s, whispering something in her ear. One of Enna’s eyes leaked a tear, but she did not so much as push Selia back.

“Selia,” Isi said, getting three slow syllables out of her name. Her breathing was heavy, she blinked slowly. “You—”

“That’s enough, Crown Princess,” Selia said in a voice meant to soothe. “Please don’t tax yourself. You are to be my very special guests, and I want you in the best of health. We’ll have a fortnight of celebrations before the big ending.

Oh, the things I have planned for your amusement! Such a collection of barrels and nails and wild stallions to please a boatful of royalty! I know what fondness you have for such things, so I’ve spared no expense. But don’t be alarmed. If you play by my rules, no one need be harmed, not even a squealing piglet.”

Selia was going to take them into the castle. Into a cage. Like Tusken, like Razo. Rin took a step backward, another, but she was shaking so badly a small stumble brought her to the ground.

“It really is wonderful to see you. We haven’t been alone, just to chat, in years. The last time we were in a forest and I was admiring one of your gowns, but you did not want me to touch it. Rather petulant of you, I thought at the time, but you never did know how to be royal and yet behave royally. Do not concern yourself about that now. After all, not everyone is born with social grace, and I long ago pardoned you for your stinginess with clothing. Speaking of clothing, don’t you adore this dress?”

Selia spun around, the soft pink fabric flipping up and wrapping her legs. “Imagine it without the scorch marks—that was unfortunate, but you see how forgiving I am to look past it, as I know Enna cannot truly cause me any harm. This dress is the latest Kelish fashion, but I added the lace on the sleeves myself. As soon as Scandlan and I announce our marriage and I make appearances at court, you will see all the Kelish women add lace to their sleeves. People look up to their queen—when their queen has substance to offer. That will all happen soon. My husband the king wished to announce it at once, of course, but I thought it wise to take it slowly. He is so indulgent. He loves me tirelessly. You just can’t imagine how thrilled he was to make me his queen.

“Look at me! I just talk and talk when you’d think I’d be a proper hostess and take you back to my palace for refreshments in our commodious dungeon, but I see you and realize how long we have been apart. I have so much to tell you! First of all, I want you to know that the little boy is safe and healthy.” She looked up at the cage, smiling distractedly. “Such a find. Such a treasure. I can’t thank you enough for bringing him out of the palace yourself. Cilie just didn’t know how she was going to manage kidnapping him from under your nose, even with the distraction my hearth-watchers started to get Geric out of the way. This convenience was much better.

“I’m thinking of raising him as my own. A child can be a charming accessory for any noble lady, and it will save me the trouble of having to go through the unpleasantness of bearing one myself. He already passed the bawling baby stage and is conveniently mobile, and so will do nicely.”

Isi’s jaw flexed, and she leaned forward as if preparing to take a step. Selia laughed, so light and fresh it was as if the moonlight sang. She rubbed a consoling hand on Isi’s arm.

“There, there now, we can still talk about his fate. Nothing is decided for certain. I will appreciate your input greatly. You see, Crown Princess, how reasonable I can be when you play nice? I will save your child. I won’t wring his tiny little neck and toss him to the hounds, but only so long as you don’t cause any trouble. You want him safe more than anything. Oh yes, you do, I can see the power of your desire wetting your eyes and quivering your adorable little chin.” Selia stroked Isi’s chin with her finger. “You will do anything to protect him. No need to say it. And I
will
protect him, I swear it. I will keep him safe as long as you and your friends are good girls.”

“It was easy to coax Tusken away from those soldiers. They were at camp. Geric was in a tent with a physician, and twenty men were guarding one little boy. He was so darling! Overjoyed to see a fair-haired lady just like his own mother. He was eager to come, and that short soldier only too happy to carry him for me. I left my men and hearth-watchers in the wood. They never had to use arrows or fire. Sweet of you to raise such a compliant child.”

“. . . I will make sure Tusken never wants for anything . . .”

Rin shut her eyes and insisted that her body relax.
Remember the rhythm of sap, leaves tasting wind, trunk a fortress of memory,
bark thick, limbs strong . . .
Selia’s voice slithered back into her consciousness.

“I really hated it when the king of Bayern died and you became a queen before I could.”

Rin put her hands over her ears, but it did not matter. Even blocking out the sound of Selia’s voice, the feeling of the words continued to roll around in her mind until Rin yearned to hear them again. Her hands dropped.

“But one can’t rush into things—no, plans must be carefully laid, and sometimes that takes years. Oh, we have so much catching up to do! Or at least I do. Why am I always catching up to you, when I can run faster and think faster? Do you know? It is irritating. Still, I will always be sure that . . .”

“. . . and Tusken will be as happy as an otter in . . .”

“. . . his very life depends on . . .”

Her trembling slowed, and her thoughts cleared as if the wind had swept fallen leaves from her mind. Before she could lose the stillness, Rin gripped her hands into fists and left the shelter of the cairn.

The first few steps were the worst. If anyone looked her direction, they would see a girl moving toward the wood. So she went slowly, no motion worth drawing notice, no sound to provoke a turn of head.

When hunting, silence was essential. But sneaking past people required seeming casualness as well. No exaggerated tiptoeing or fleeing from tree to tree. Back home, no one bothered to look at Rin much, and she was practiced at keeping quiet. She could stroll behind one of her brothers and lift the meat out of the sandwich in his hand without drawing attention. That trick always made Razo laugh.

Razo. The thought of her brother kept her moving through the night, slow but persistent, and she was reminded of a root, seemingly still yet always digging, always moving. She entered the deeper wood in order to skirt Selia and her guards, then swing back to the cage. Keeping one hand up, she touched trees in passing, just to remind her of the steady peace she was trying to maintain, the voice of trees flowing through her, the drowsy hum of sap and water, the wistful murmur of leaves on wind.

The green world, she named that place where she could hear trees. It had been like a second surface to everything, a soft barrier she could lean through. When completely submerged in green, she was immobile. But if she could barely touch it, lean half in and half out, perhaps she could gain some of that clarity and slowness and still keep moving forward.

This was not like sneaking with Razo. She quivered with the strange and yet familiar impression that she was different somehow. Air filled her in a new way, thick and cool and fluid, like water filled a fish.

Wonder at what she was doing was distracting. She pushed aside her thoughts, focusing on balancing herself in that place where Selia’s voice did not matter, where panic could not turn her into a useless, quivering animal. She forced herself to relax in order to maintain the nearness of the green world, physically trembling with the effort. What she tried seemed impossible—struggling to slow, fighting to be calm, laboring for rest. She might as well scream for quiet. As she thought it, she realized how absurd it really was, and in that moment the stillness crumbled. There was no calm, no control. Selia’s voice slammed back into her head.

“. . . could just chat with you all night it seems! I have a particular fondness for words. I suppose you know that, Crown Princess. This has been a true joy, but the night grows chill and we should retire indoors.”

Rin was alone in a foreign wood, vulnerable, confused, anxious to run away but stuck to the spot with fear. Her heart pounded as if it wanted to escape from her chest, her vision wavered, her whole self seemed to be thudding away with the heartbeats, and she gasped just to breathe.

“Stop it,” she told herself in a haggard whisper. “Stop. Be like Isi, like Razo. Fearless and just fine. Do it.”

She rested against a tree, still not daring to actually listen, sweating as she fought for the courage to be calm. The greenness seemed closer, so she shut her eyes and bid herself slip toward it, almost hearing the tree’s low rumbles, almost tasting that tranquility. When she was no longer aware of Selia’s voice in the distance, she walked on.