The Dawn Star (24 page)

If he meant to terrify her, he was succeeding. But Mel saw what he didn't. A sphere. A misshapen sphere. The highest known shape, yet of no use to a mage because spikes deformed it.

But she was also her father's daughter.

Mel's fury built. Higher, higher, like a wave rushing toward the shore, the ancient power rose. Her spell grabbed the imperfect ball—and slipped. Shade swung the gruesome weapon toward her, and Mel
reached
—

Her spell caught the spikes.

Power exploded out of Mel in a burst of violet light so bright it blinded her. Unlike with perfect shapes,
this spell didn't hurt.
It blazed through her as if she were a crucible for its terrible force.

A scream cut the air, not from her, from someone else, high and terrified. A thunderous crack shook the cell, and debris pelted her body. She dropped abruptly and landed hard on her knees. Her manacled hands slammed down in front of her. Mel went rigid, terrified the collapsing cell would crush her beneath tons of stone.

The violet light faded. Mel knelt in the dark while pieces of stone clattered around her. A shard of rock bounced off her cheek. Then all was still and dark. She choked in a breath. She couldn't think about what had happened—what she had done. Not yet. Not until her baby was safe.

Feeling around, she realized she was kneeling in debris. She edged through the wreckage toward Shade. It took only moments to find his body. He had no pulse. As far as she could tell, nothing had hit him, but he was very, very dead.

Mel started to shake. Violet.
Violet.
It was a legend, the power to heal mortal wounds, to pull back the dying. To give life.

And to take it.

Tears slid down Mel's cheeks. Her body had gone numb. She no longer felt the welts and gashes. Later sensation would return, and with it the full knowledge of what she had done. Now she couldn't let herself think. She searched Shade's body and found his squashed key ring. She tried to make a spell of light, but the ring was too bent and the spell slipped off it. She pushed and pulled, straining the metal. It still wasn't a true circle, but better—

Her spell caught on the ring and light flared. With her arms trembling, she lifted them so she could see the manacles on her wrists. Maneuvering Shade's keys into the lock with her palms facing outward was impossible. She rotated her wrists, gritting her teeth as the metal scraped her skin, until she could get in a key. The first one didn't work, nor the second. She could almost feel the seconds rattling by; every moment brought her closer to discovery. This torture chamber was deep in the walls, probably so screams from inside couldn't be heard outside. That might have covered the noise of the cell's destruction, but Ozar would come back.

The fifth key unlocked the manacles, and Mel threw them on the ground. If she found a better shape than the key ring, she would try healing her injuries, but she didn't dare with one this deformed; her distorted spell might hurt her or her child.

She forced herself to take Shade's clothes. They were too big, but the trousers had a drawstring she pulled tight around her waist, and she rolled up the legs and the sleeves. She gave up on the boots. She took the spiked ball and stood over Shade, gripping the handle, the weapon hanging by its chain.

“That was for my baby,” she said.

Then she left the cell and its destruction, taking the weapon, her mage power—and her rage.

T
he knock came in the evening. Jade was in the Starflower Parlor of her suite. As soon as she heard the knock, she lifted a vase out of the niche where it sat in a starflower depression. She pressed the petals of the flower in a pattern only she knew, and a narrow section of the wall swung open. Drummer stood framed in the opening, a candle in his hand and his grin audacious, as if he had personally built the secret tunnel.

Jade pulled him into her parlor. “Did you have any trouble?”

“None at all.” He clunked his candle on the table and drew her into a kiss, deep and warm and hungry.

After a while, when they separated, she laughed and thumped him on the chest. “Light of the evening to you, too.”

“I can't believe you told them today.” His smile turned into a grimace. “Baz is going to roast me over a fire.”

“He has to get you first.”

He spoke intently. “Spearcaster and Fieldson came to see me. They want to talk to you. They will return later tonight. They don't think we can make it until Windcrier returns from Aronsdale.”

She snorted. “So they are sneaking around to see you?”

He took a breath. “They want us to marry tonight.”

“What?” This didn't sound like those two generals, who were among the most cautious of the whole group. “Why?”

Sweat gathered on his forehead. “Once we're married, your army is sworn to protect me as well as you. Assassinating the prince consort is far different than killing a minstrel who dishonored the queen. And if anything does happen to me after we're married, our child will be your legitimate heir.”

It made sense, but that only made her more wary. “Why did they go to you instead of to me with this idea?”

“Baz is having our suites watched. Yours more than mine.”

“They told you this?”

“Yes.”

She crossed her arms. “Why should we believe them?”

“Why would they bother to lie? It's not as if I have any power here.”

Jade sighed. “Because, love, everyone knows you are naive and inexperienced. They asked if you had a way to get to me, didn't they? And they wanted you to show them, yes?”

“Yes to the first. No to the second. Jade, listen. I can tell when people are lying.” He folded his hand around a pendant he wore. “I'm good at reading moods.”

Jade took his hand and opened it so she could see the pendant. It was the gold cube he had been holding this afternoon.

“What is this?” she asked. “A talisman?”

“For luck.”

“Is it?” She looked into his face. “I too am a good judge of when people tell the truth, Drummer. To survive, I had to learn well and learn fast.”

“Why would I lie about a cube?”

She remembered when he had awoken from his sickness. “You once asked me for a shape, and I gave you my earring. You held it in your hand and made light.” She rolled the cube in his fingers. “Is that why you have this, too?”

He hesitated. “I can do tricks with it.”

Jade studied his face. She didn't think he was lying, exactly. He was an entertainer, and it made sense he would know flashy magic tricks. But something was wrong. Or maybe not wrong, but missing.

“I have a question,” she said.

“Which is?”

“You aren't telling me something.” She let go of the cube and raised her hand when he started to protest. “Just tell me this. Is your secret a danger to us, our child, or Taka Mal?”

His posture relaxed. “No, insomuch as a person can answer that question. You're the queen of Taka Mal. I can't guarantee nothing I ever do, if I become your consort, will pose a danger. But to the best of my knowledge and intent, the answer is no.”

Jade had to decide: Either she trusted his word or she didn't. Perhaps she was blinded by love, but she believed him. “So you think Fieldson and Spearcaster genuinely wish to see us married.”

“Yes.”

“What if King Jarid refuses the treaty?” Jade paced across the room. Only a few steps took her to the opposite wall. She turned to Drummer. He was watching her, his unruly hair tousled over his collar, his large blue eyes distracting. She couldn't think straight when he looked at her like that.

“If I marry you and Aronsdale turns us down,” she said, “and then Cobalt attacks, we will have no ally. Cobalt will crush us.”

“You have Jazid,” he said.

“That alliance requires I marry Ozar.”

His face twisted. “You can't marry that monster. He wants to hurt you.”

She spoke quietly. “I know.”

He looked as if he was going to explode. “Then how can you even consider it?”

She felt ill. “If the choice is subjugation of either myself or my country, it is no choice. I am a queen first, Drummer, and a woman second.”

He came over and grasped her shoulders. “He would be crazy not to ally with you if Cobalt attacks. He knows Cobalt will go after him next. I don't believe Ozar would give up his own throne just because he can't have yours.”

“You can never tell with Ozar.” She regarded him uneasily. “He may have another plan we know nothing about.”

“If we don't do this now, I don't believe we'll get another chance. Too much is set against us.” He implored her with the unfair advantage of his eyes. “For the sake of our child. Even if Ozar has me killed so he can have you, I would die knowing my child's heritage is protected. He can't get rid of your heir.”

She touched his cheek. “He would try, love.”

“And if we weren't married? What then?”

“It would be much worse,” she admitted. “The child would be the illegitimate offspring of a forbidden liaison rather than heir to the Topaz Throne.”

He waited, watching her face. She knew what she wanted. But what was best? No matter what they did, it could bring disaster. Nothing was certain—except how she felt about Drummer.

Jade took his hands and spoke softly, letting what she felt for him warm her voice. “Then let us marry. Tonight.”

Cobalt sat on Admiral, high on a ridge, and Matthew sat next to him on his gold stallion, Hawkspar. As the sun set behind them, their shadows stretched out and spilled over the edge of the ridge. A panorama spread all around them. To the southeast, the Jagged Teeth Mountains cut bleak silhouettes against the purpling sky. The starkly beautiful Rocklands of Taka Mal stretched east before him. The Pyramid Foothills of Aronsdale were behind them, mounded and rocky, but greening as one looked farther west.

Ozar's army, over four thousand strong, had massed along Jazid's northern border with Taka Mal and its western border with Aronsdale. Cobalt's army was camped across from them, just within Aronsdale, and the Taka Mal forces had gathered along the Saint Verdant River, which all three armies were using for water. It was an untenable situation, almost fourteen thousand soldiers and another three thousand tenders, all living off land that would have trouble supporting one-third that population for any sustained time.

“Maybe I should send another envoy to Taka Mal,” Cobalt said.

Matthew frowned at him. “What was wrong with the one Sphere-General Fieldson took there?”

“If they could return to us, they would have done so.”

Matthew didn't look convinced. “Samuel Fieldson is one of the highest-ranked generals alive. Maybe Queen Vizarana fears for his life.” He indicated the massed armies. “If I were queen of Taka Mal and I had all these people hulking at my door, I wouldn't be sending an officer that valuable anywhere right now, either.”

Cobalt couldn't help but smile. “If you were the queen of Taka Mal, Matthew, I do believe her suitors would be rather upset.”

The stable master laughed. “I imagine so.”

Cobalt's smile faded. “She might be using caution. Or she might be holding the envoy hostage.” He studied the armies that stretched as far as he could see both south and east, until they became dark blurs. “I will give her one more day and then send another envoy.”

“You should see this.” Matthew's voice had a strange sound.

“Hmm?” Cobalt glanced at him. Matthew had twisted around in his saddle to look behind them. Cobalt maneuvered Admiral around to face west. All he saw was the same Aronsdale landscape as always. In the distance, its misty green and blue hues promised a gentler land than this harsh landscape. A haze spread across the countryside, giving it a mystical quality. It was attractive, certainly, and he saw no problem.

“What?” Cobalt asked.

Matthew gave him a strange look. “Your Majesty—”

Cobalt scowled at him. “You never call me that unless you plan on saying something I won't like.”

“Maybe you should put on your glasses.”

So that was it. Reluctant, Cobalt took his spectacles out of the hidden pocket in his tunic. Settling them on his nose, he peered west. The misty blue resolved into ranks of men and horses extending across the land for many leagues.

“Oh,” Cobalt said. The Aronsdale army had arrived.

Matthew shifted uneasily in his saddle. “Jarid promised us safe passage.”

“They haven't denied it,” Cobalt said, as much to convince himself as Matthew. “They're coming to make sure we keep our battles out of their country.”

The older man gave him a dour look. “What battles?”

Cobalt was barely listening. With his glasses on, he could see the beauty of Aronsdale much better. “Now that,” he murmured, “is a country worth having.”

“Cobalt, for saints' sake.”

He pulled his attention back to his scowling stable master. “I'm not going to invade Aronsdale. If Taka Mal gives back Drummer and Jazid minds its own business, I won't attack anyone.”

“And if they don't?”

“We will see.” Cobalt felt the thirst within him that nothing quenched. He had promised Mel to use restraint, not in so many words but in his silences, when she looked at him and believed he could be more than he thought possible, as a king, a father, and a husband. His wife wanted a man of peace. He would never be that. But today, he would try.

Hooves pounded on the path that led up the ridge. Admiral snorted, and Hawkspar stepped nervously. A lieutenant rode around a spur, a young fellow with his hair pulled into a queue. He came forward with caution. Cobalt had noticed that many of his officers approached him in such a manner. He didn't put people at ease. Well, he was their commander. They weren't supposed to be at ease. Oddly enough, they seemed to trust him anyway and follow him with loyalty, despite Stonebreaker's years of scorn.

The youth saluted Cobalt, his fist against his rib cage. Cobalt returned the salute, curious as to what brought the lieutenant up here. “Do you have a message?” Cobalt asked.

“Not I, Your Majesty.” The youth motioned down the ridge. “A man rode here from Alzire. He says he must speak with you.”

Cobalt's unease stirred. Mel was in Alzire. “Bring him up.”

“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant wheeled his horse around and took off down the slope.

“What do you suppose it is about?” Matthew asked.

“I've no idea.” Cobalt didn't want to speak. He never did when he was on edge.

The lieutenant soon returned with another rider, a man Cobalt recognized from the Alzire Palace. What was his name? Abacus. He was a clerk who kept records, also a horseman who carried messages to other towns. Cobalt couldn't imagine what brought him all the way out here, a journey of thirty days. His foreboding deepened.

Dust and dirt covered Abacus. His beard had grown out and his clothes were trail-worn. The pouch he wore strapped across his torso had frayed. He looked as if he hadn't stopped during the entire ride here from Alzire. In fact, he looked like hell.

“I am honored, Majesty,” Abacus said hoarsely.

Cobalt felt like a wire pulled tight. “What is your message?”

“Sire—it is your wife.”

The world suddenly went silent. Cobalt no longer heard the low thunder of seventeen thousand people. “What about my wife?”

“She—” Abacus took a shuddering breath. “She is gone. Kidnapped, we think.”

Cobalt wanted to ask him to start over. He couldn't have heard properly. The one constant in his life, the one person who gave him reason to live, couldn't be gone. He had left her in Alzire for her protection.

“How long?” Cobalt's voice sounded strange. It belonged to someone else. It couldn't be his, because he was screaming inside.

“Twenty days.” Abacus was shaking from fatigue.

Matthew stared at him. “You made it here in
twenty
days?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me what happened,” Cobalt said.

“She vanished the night of the Citrine Festival,” Abacus answered, trying to sit erect in his saddle, though he swayed. He reached into his bag and took out a packet of blue silk. “We found signs of a struggle in one of the stables. And this.”