Dragonoak (45 page)

“Did you
make all of these?” I asked, running my fingers along the
mantelpiece, barely brushing away a speck of dust in the process.
“They're really good. I know a friend who's always carving things
like this and they'd definitely be impressed.”

“I like
birds...” Sen murmured, scratching the back of her head.

“So does
Akela!” I said. “She wants a chicken, actually.”

“I
know,” Sen said, brightening a little. “I was thinking, the next
chicken I hatch, m-maybe she'd like that...”

“Definitely!” I said, glad to see her beam.

Remembering herself, Sen cleared her throat and said, “I'll
find a step and you can help me with lunch. I-if you want
to.”

Claire
was far from the only person Sen cooked for. There were a handful
of younger pane whose cabins were left empty throughout the day,
guardians working around the city, and Sen made meals for them, as
well as a handful of older humans throughout Orinhal. I helped her
prepare the meals, sizing down the humans' portions, and took to
feeding the chickens and raven chicks while Sen made her
deliveries.

It was
close to impossible to send a raven anywhere of worth without the
Felheimish shooting them down, but Sen was convinced that there'd
be a use for them, by the time they were grown.

For two
days, I was content in Sen's cabin. I wandered the streets freely,
for I was the only human with any business in the pane district,
and I visited Claire without warning, taking breakfast to her or
stopping in between meetings for a few minutes. She wasn't
resistant to seeing me, not exactly, but she wasn't always as
welcoming as I'd hoped. Still, I knew I needed to be there, knew
that shame and stress mingled within her, and did what I could to
look beyond all that.

“Do you
want to have dinner with the Marshal tonight?” Sen asked as I
peeled carrots with a knife that could've doubled as a short-sword.
“N-not that I don't want to eat with you, ah. But you've been here
the last two nights, and... do you think this is too
much?”

“It
looks fine,” I said. It wasn't perfect; there was more than I could
eat, definitely more than Claire could get through, but Sen was
learning. “I think I'll go to Claire's. I'll take the tray and you
can finally finish up that book you were reading.”

Sen was
getting a little better about taking time for herself,
too.

“It's
getting to the good bit...” Sen said, grinning around her fangs.
“The main character, she's trying to save her mother
from...”

A knock
at the door make her ears stand up.

“Sen!
It's me!” Ash called. “You got Rowan in there?”

I put
the knife down at the sound of my name, carrot-half peeled, and
left Sen to keep an eye on the stew. I hadn't spoken to Ash since
the incident outside of the tower, and I found myself eager to
confront her. I wasn't angry. I hadn't had the energy for that
those past few days, but I burnt with curiosity. I needed to know
what had led her to tell people about me.

I pulled
the door open and Ash sighed in relief.

“Thank
goodness! Been looking for you all over. Marshal's too busy to be
bothered and Akela's off who-knows-where, but we got a couple of
new arrivals claiming to know you,” she said, leaning against the
door frame. “Now, we're not in the habit of turning anyone away,
but I thought I'd check out their story and let you know they're
here.”

Atthis
and Katja.

When I
was in Orinhal, I could forget about the war raging through the
territories, but I hadn't been able to put Katja out of my mind.
I'd spent so long dreading her arrival that I'd let myself believe
that anxiety and apprehension had been the worst of it.

“Sen,” I
called into the kitchen, “I'm heading to the tower now. I'll be
back as soon as I can.”

“Listen,
Rowan. Wanted to explain about the whole—”

“Where
are they now?”

“Down by
the gates. But listen, I—”

“Bring them to Claire straight away,” I told her, setting
off, “
Seriously
.
Right now.”

There
was still a good half an hour before dinner, and Claire was sat
down with three soldiers, studying a scroll one of them had
brought. I burst through the door and they all turned to look at
me, soldiers scowling, and Claire furrowed her brow. I had minutes
at most before Ash arrived with Katja and Atthis in tow and needed
everyone but Claire out of there.

“Sorry.
Sorry, but I need to talk to you,” I said, eyes wide and
pleading.

One of
the soldiers scoffed, no doubt aware of who I was, and Claire said,
“If you could wait a few minutes, Rowan, I'm certain we'd all
appreciate it.”

“Please
. It's important,
Claire.”

Claire
held my gaze, and relented after a few seconds. She dismissed the
soldiers with a tilt of her head, saying that they'd continue the
discussion first thing in the morning, and each one of them
glowered at me on the way out. I made sure the door was firmly
closed behind them, as if that was enough to keep Katja out, and
Claire rose to her feet, knowing I'd never interrupt her like that
unless it was urgent.

“What is
it?” she asked. “Has something happened?”

“No, I'm
fine, it's just... Atthis and Katja are here. They're at the gate
with Ash, and...”

The way
Claire was looking at me caused the words to dry up in my mouth.
She wasn't glaring, nor was she scowling, but there was something
deeply discomforting in her expression, as though it masked an
anger that had never been spoken of.

“Katja,”
she said dryly. “Katja is here, in Orinhal?”

“Yes?
She was being brought here by Atthis. You knew that, you knew she
was...” I paused, bringing a hand to my mouth. “You didn't know
that.”

Claire
sat back down, clasping her hands together.

“I
thought she was in Canth. Imprisoned or escaped. I did not want to
presume to press you on the matter,” she said in a frighteningly
even tone.

I'd
assumed that Akela had told her, but a look told me how wrong I'd
been. She stared at the centre of her desk, not blinking, and I was
certain a word from her would knock me back.

“You can
be mad at me later,” I said, glancing at the door, willing it to
remain closed. “What's going to happen with her?”

“I
should like to execute her,” Claire said, words recoiling against
my chest.

Time was
running out. Any moment now, Katja would be there. She'd be in the
room with Claire, and after all she'd said to drive her blades in
deeper, I couldn't stomach the thought of how she'd relish in what
Claire had become.

“Claire,” I said firmly. “You can't execute her. And even if
you did, how would that look? Executing a healer to protect me. To
protect a
necromancer
.”

Claire's
gaze broke away from whatever scuff in the wood had claimed her
attention, and meeting my gaze, she said, “... there is room in the
prison, I suppose.”

Relief
hammered in my chest. I barely felt as though I had my own freedom
when Katja was denied hers, and I don't know how I would've endured
knowing she was free to come and go as she pleased.

It
didn't take much longer for Atthis and Katja to arrive. I stood by
Claire's side, wrist clasped behind my back as the handle turned,
and Ash pulled the door open. She showed Atthis and Katja inside,
and I stared between them, unable to focus on anything or anyone
for a moment.

I wanted
Claire to see what a monster Katja was, but she was remarkably well
put together. The signs of a journey wore on her, but there wasn't
a smudge of dirt across her face; her hair was recently cleaned and
braided back, loose strands framing her bright, cheerful face. She
sat at the other side of the desk, perfectly attentive. Not once
did her attention wander, nor did her lips twitch or her fingers
rub against each other, as mine now did.

“Ightham,” Atthis breathed, bringing a fist to his chest. “I
can't tell you how glad I am to find you alive.”

“The
same to you,” Claire said, nodding politely. “Galal's been talking
of nothing but your return for weeks. Where is he now?”

“On
duty,” Ash chimed in, “I've sent someone to track him
down.”

As if
she hadn't heard Ash, Claire turned to Katja. She stared at her
without a word, silently goading her to say all that must be
roiling behind her perfectly placid expression. Katja leant
forward, and folded her hands together in her lap. With a smile so
effortlessly sincere that even I was at risk of being taken in by
it, Katja took the initiative and began speaking her
venom.

“Sir
Igh—goodness, I do apologise. It's Marshal Ightham now, isn't it?
Marshal, in the weeks it took me and Uncle Atthis to travel through
Kastelir, I believe we expected many things from Orinhal. Plenty of
which we didn't dare to voice out loud, for fear that our hopes
would desert us once we reached the city. I believe I speak for the
both of us when I say we never dreamt of finding something this
grand, this extensive. The city and the people within it are
thriving, thanks in no small part to your efforts, Marshal. You've
done Kastelir a great service.”

She was still smiling at Claire. She actually dared to
smile
at her, while I
went unnoticed. Try as I might, I felt nothing seep from Katja; her
oily fingers didn't move unseen through the air, grasping for my
throat, my chest, my wrist.

“I do
all that I can for the people of the territories,” Claire said
flatly. She spoke as though Katja was a stranger; as though I
hadn't tasted bile in my throat to speak of her. “If you're to
reside within Orinhal, the first thing you'll have to accept is
that Kastelir as you knew it is no more. The country has been
disbanded.”

Katja
was startled by what Claire said, there was no getting around that,
but nothing like outrage resounded within her. She took time to
digest the news while Atthis strode forward, one hand clamping down
on Katja's side of the desk. I looked away, unable to face him.
After being forced from his own country for years on end, he'd
returned to find himself nothing but the memory of a king long
since presumed dead.

“You have done
what
, Ightham?” Atthis
demanded.

“Marshal
,” Ash corrected him from
the door.

Atthis
ignored her and leant forward, while Claire remained perfectly
calm.

“You rend my kingdom into mere shreds and then tell me that I
must
accept
it?”
Atthis spat. “Who are you to do such a thing?”

Claire
kept her lips pursed together, giving Atthis a moment to stew in
his anger. She meant to answer him, none of us doubted that, but
Katja beat her to it. Pivoting in her seat, Katja clung to the back
of the chair, eyes flashing with what could've been embarrassment
at his outburst.

“Uncle
. Do you hear yourself? The
Marshal has dedicated years of her life to protecting this land and
its people, and you ask her who she is to make such a decision,”
she said sternly. Atthis seemed to shrink from her, only then
realising what he'd said. “Ask yourself this: what's more important
to you, to all of us? Reclaiming your title of
King
or protecting the countless
people suffering across these lands? Kastelir was in no fine shape
before the dragons came. This is our home, and it is better that we
allow it to divide itself, rather than see it fall to
pieces.”

Atthis
rubbed a hand across his mouth, and nodded his head in slow,
shallow motions. He wouldn't risk shouting at Claire again, not
with so many people to witness his ignorance. He'd spent all that
time in Canth thinking the world would wait for him; we all
had.

“I...
apologise, Ightham. I have been away from my... from these lands,
and understand nothing of what any of you have endured,” he said,
hand clamping down on Katja's shoulder. “I should like to be
brought up to speed, once I have seen my son.”

“Reforging the territories was a decision made by the people,
not myself. Kidira has been nothing but supportive of the notion,”
Claire explained, for the sake of not letting Katja say it all. At
the sound of Kidira's name, Atthis' face paled and Katja gripped
the arms of her chair, leaning forward. For all Katja had done to
me, to all of us, I didn't resent the relief that was bestowed upon
her. Claire looked between the two of them, nodding in
confirmation. “Kidira is alive and well. However, she doesn't
currently reside within Orinhal. She left Kyrindval almost two
months ago, in order to attend to other matters.”

Katja had been controlled thus far. I knew it was a fleeting
façade, engineered to make
me
look like a liar. She knew how I'd been forced to
handle what she'd done, knew what I wouldn't have been able to help
but blurt out to Claire; yet there she was, calm enough to see
clearly when a King could not. More than that, she was defending
Claire and all she'd striven for. How could she have done all I'd
accused her of? The only genuine thing she did throughout that
entire meeting was suck in a shaky breath, trembling as she wiped
her eyes on her sleeves, overwhelmed by the knowledge that her
mother was alive.