Poison forest, p.17
Poison Forest, page 17
I stop returning her kisses long before I want to. Instead, I hug her until she relaxes against me. My face is crushed against her hair, which smells like campfire and chill mountain air. “I want to talk to you. Be with you,” I whisper. “I wish we were alone.”
“I don’t,” she replies softly. “I don’t need another reason to care for you.”
I tense. I can’t understand why she’d say such a thing. It’s the first time either of us has put a name to our feelings for one another, and she sounds as if she regrets it.
“Don’t say that,” I say finally. “When we find Dette, you can return to Lazul with me.”
“And do what? Don’t you have to take the throne?”
“It would please my father if I did. He could retire in his southerly home near the Sapphire Sea with his lover.”
“Where would that leave me?”
I pause. Suddenly I’m finding it difficult to breathe. “As queen consort, if you wished.”
She pulls away from me. “Thedra ...”
“Neev.”
I reach for her hand, but she keeps it behind her back. “An untrained, unregistered elemental as queen consort?”
“I would pardon you, and have you trained. A woman who helped save the future High Empress? Who is the queen’s beloved? I don’t think anyone will object.”
I see her lips start to tremble at the word beloved. “No one has been saved yet.”
I swallow, hard. “I offer you my kingdom, and you scoff and air your doubts?”
She gives me a small, sober smile in the firelight. “That’s the pride of your noble blood speaking, Thedra. You hardly know me.”
“My father hardly knew my mother, but he made her the head of his army after seeing her in battle.”
“From what I’ve heard, your father likes men.”
“They were partners, not lovers. We could be both.”
She doesn’t acknowledge this. “You should go back.”
“Why are you changing the subject?” My voice goes up an octave, sharp with impatience. “The forest made me ill because the enchantment there was influenced by my mother’s death. Why, by the gods, would you come this far with me and then suggest I go back?”
“Because, Thedra, it’s a death wish! Go home to Lazul and amass your forces.”
“I’ve come too far to go back. I’ll stand against Rothbart if it’s the last thing I do. And if you can’t stomach that, then you’re the one who should go back.”
Neev brings her hand down in a gesture of defiance and walks away, putting distance between us. It’s not as if I planned this. I feel she forced my hand by practically saying she loved me and then insisting I outline what would happen if she went back to Lazul with me. Her suggestion that I give up the quest only jumbles things further.
Neev makes the healing tea for us again before bed. Gate sleeps between us tonight with his sword and crossbow on his chest like some ancient soldier being laid to rest, and I fall asleep with my diamond vial clutched in my hand.
When I awaken at dawn, Neev’s fingers aren’t toying with my hair as they were a few mornings ago. She’s already up making breakfast with Plover. I sit up blearily, jostling Gate, who groans and rolls over.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Mmf.” He ruffles his hair. “No spiders last night.”
“Nope. Your face still looks like a pincushion, though.”
“So does your heart.”
“What?” I give him a sharp look.
“Beg pardon, Your Highness. I’m not fully awake.”
“No, stop that. I want to know what you meant.”
He looks regretful. “I overheard your conversation last night.”
“You overheard?”
“You were ten steps away!”
I draw my knees up to my chest. Neev saying no to my offer to make her a figurehead through marriage was a disappointment, but it didn’t occur to me until just now that it might mean the end for us. We’ve barely even begun. If I take the throne and she’s not seen as my equal, she’ll never be viewed by the people as more than my paramour. I wouldn’t wish that for her to be a decorative plaything lolling about the palace in silks. But the truth is, I’ve never asked what she wants out of life. It’s not a question I’m accustomed to asking, since no one’s ever asked it of me.
My future has always been decided for me. Study to become Priestess of the Dead. Take the throne as Queen of Lazul, second co-chair of the Triumvir. Marry a prince or princess or the child of a noble with valuable resources. And, once my power showed itself, train as a lightning elemental. Even my hobbies—horses, lightning-wielding, and swordplay—had to do with their value to the crown.
“I’m sure it seemed impulsive to you,” I say. “Me asking her to marry me when I’ve known her for less than a month.”
Gate chuckles. “Do you forget I’m the one they send to find you when you wander off on some scheme? The undercaptains in King Thede’s army call you Thedra the Impetuous. But I know you better than them. The cogs are always turning. And you know when your mind’s made up.”
I chew a nail. “Queen Thedra the Impetuous. I don’t hate that, but it’s not what I’d call an admirable moniker.”
“When we return, don’t have their heads chopped off for it. If we return.”
I roll my eyes. I’ve been thinking about asking Gate to be commander of my army when I’m crowned, but I’m too vulnerable to say it now.
When I’ve washed and rinsed my mouth at the stream, I find Neev stirring a simmering mixture of porridge and potherbs with the purple berries. I’d like to kiss her cheek and say good morning, but I don’t know where our conversation last night left us. I picture hugging her from behind while she stirs the forest stew, my chin on her shoulder, my arms about her trim waist. I’d kiss her neck and her soft cheek, and we’d toast bread and drink hot tea together.
It’s such a homey image, and so unlike anything I’ve ever imagined for myself, that it makes my chest ache. I used to imagine Dette and I in our respective chambers in the palace of Zelen, meeting at night after dinner for wine, and then waking to have breakfast together on the terrace overlooking Thistle’s main avenue, which is lined with trees that blossom pink and red in spring. But I never imagined anything like this. Simple and unpretentious, and whole. The problem is, both are fantasies.
“Morning,” I say tentatively. “May I talk to you?”
She gives a small nod, covering the pot with a lid. We walk to the stream, out of earshot of Plover and Gate.
“I’m sorry about last night,” I say. “I sprung the offer on you. I see that now.”
She closes her eyes. “Don’t apologize.”
“No, let me say this. Everything in my life has been planned for me. Setting out to rescue Dette and asking you to be my queen consort are two of the only things I’ve done for myself, and I did them impulsively. But I don’t want to rush anything, to get in the way of...this.” I gesture to myself and her. “Because this is good. Neev, I—
“I know,” she interjects.
“I want to hug you.”
“Then do.”
I put my arms around her. I can’t keep my hands out of the tufts of her short hair, or my mouth from kissing her. She squeezes me back tight enough to make me breathless. My arms encircle her, and I place my cheek on the top of her head. Her hair smells of wood smoke and sweat and sweet mountain grass. Even now, after promising to take things slower, my insides are in turmoil. I want to kiss her until my lips are raw. I want to lie down in the grass with her. I want to offer her a home, jewels, a closetful of clothes, a life with me. The wants could go on forever, but I force them down, force myself to reign in my desires.
We near the summit of Frostmead before midday. The deep basin on the other side that holds the Lake of Tears is now visible. The lake is as wide and deep as a small sea, and it glimmers blue as cut sapphire in the summer sun. The Isle of Lebed is a green jewel in its center, surmounted by the castle known as Alder Tower.
My heart swells on instinct at the sight of its turrets, the Bell Tower and the Lookout, even though I know only danger waits for me there. But I can’t help it; I spent so many summers on Lebed, riding Zmaj on the grounds, practicing fencing and archery, my court manners and my magic. And, of course, getting into mischief with Dette by plaguing the stable hands or sneaking off to swim in the lake, or having a picnic in the green woods with food stolen from the kitchen.
I spare a glance for Neev, who stands silently at the summit. She has her arms outstretched, letting the wind wash over her. It whips the cloak backward and away from her shoulders, molding the loose shirt she wears to the soft curves of her body.
“Neev.”
She turns her head to look at me over her shoulder.
“You know I’m going ahead. But if you have any doubts at all...about going on, or using your power, or anything else, then you don’t have to come with me.”
She bites her lip so hard it turns white, but shakes her head. “If you’re going on, so am I.”
Despite the certainty of her words, her face is a mask of doubt.
“If you must use your power, remember what we practiced. I know it didn’t go well, but if you focus it on him, using emotion, I think you could do as well as you did that night you knocked me down. Better, even.”
Neev nods and moves away from the windy summit, back toward the path. I tighten my boot laces and stride after her.
The closer we get to the lake, the more anxious I become. Finally, we reach the glade at the edge of Frostmead. It’s less than an hour to shore, but darkness is coming.
“We should make camp here,” says Plover. He doesn’t like to travel by night after what happened to Ibis.
“No. We’ll make our way to the quay and take one of the boats moored there. It’s better if we approach under cover of darkness. No one has ever tried to take the tower by daylight. In ancient times, warring armies always came by night using muffled oars.”
“They carried boats over the mountain?”
“I didn’t say it was a good strategy, but all methods of approach are visible from the Lookout. Once we’re on the island, I know a secret entrance to the castle. A tunnel that was an old servant’s entrance. Dette and I used it to get out of our lessons sometimes.”
We find an old skiff with a high, pointed prow moored to the quay. Gate and Plover muffle the oars with strips of cloth and the four of us clamber into it. I hide my vial inside my cloak so the light doesn’t give us away.
Plover sits at the front of the boat, searching for obstacles with his keen eyes in the perfect darkness. I sit aft, steering the rudder as Gate and Neev row. There is little wind and the muffled oars make no sound in the water.
We ground the boat on the sandy beach and Plover stows it beneath a crag.
It takes me a while to find the place I’m seeking in the dark. It’s an old stone cottage with a water wheel hidden in a glade, overrun by ivy. I know the entrance to the tunnel is at the back of the cottage, hidden beneath a clump of aster.
“We should light a torch,” grumbles Gate.
“We’re not lighting anything,” I reply, my teeth clenched.
We spend almost an hour casting about fruitlessly in the underbrush. Beside me, Gate grunts and garbles a muffled oath and I assume he has met with the business end of a bramble. I can tell he’s beyond annoyed with me, but it has been years since I last used the tunnel, and I can’t be expected to find it in record time on a night this black. I ignore him.
My foot catches against a stone lip. I put my hand out and feel around beneath the shrub until my knuckles bump into something hard and cold. “Ow!”
It’s the rounded edge of the tunnel. I lead the way inside and wait until all four of us are present to bring out my lightning vial, brushing my fingers over it to awaken the rotating strands of crackling energy within. The light glints off the wet stones in glittering hues of deep purple, turquoise, and brilliant blue, like sunlight awakening a raw slab of fluorspar.
The tunnel was built as an escape route in case of siege, because of its close access to the beach, but it was blocked by a pile of stones when Dette and I found it. We cleared them without telling anyone and used it as a place to nap on hot days or escape to the cool of the forest and the lake.
The tunnel is cold but clammy. Moisture beads on the low ceiling and drips into my hair and down the back of my tunic. My boots splash in shallow puddles and a soft whispering accompanies our footfalls as we walk—the sound of Plover’s wingtips brushing along the cobbled floor.
The walls are close, and I can hear Neev’s every breath, every echo as Gate nervously clears his throat. The tunnel was always a place of coolness and peace and secret delight, but now it closes in on me, like a dream of being trapped in a suffocating womb. I wish I could abandon them and run ahead, or at least scream at them to be quiet.
I do neither. I bite my knuckle and squeeze my diamond vial until it hurts.
At last, we reach the door at the end of the tunnel. It leads into a secluded corner of the walled courtyard and it’s stuck from years of disuse. Gate wedges his shoulder against it and helps me shove it open, and I claw my way through a curtain of ivy into the brisk air of the courtyard.
Neev follows with Plover on her heels, gasping as if the tunnel deprived him of air.
“Are you alright?” Gate places a tentative hand on his shoulder.
“I will be. Just let me breathe for a moment before we go in.” He nods to the looming castle to our left.
I put my vial back into the folds of my cloak. The ragged lace on my boot has come loose again. I bend to tighten it and hear Plover draw and nock an arrow.
Crouching and whirling to where he is aiming in the darkness, I see a lone figure clad in white walking slowly through the shadows of the ivy-covered wall.
Gate quickly mirrors Plover, aiming his crossbow.
“Should we loose, Your Highness?”
“No. Wait.”
I crouch in silence, watching as the figure glides closer. The heavy clouds part to reveal the bright sickle moon hanging low over the lake, revealing a woman with wild black hair and white wings trailing over the grass.
I gasp. “It’s Dette.”
“What if it’s not?” asks Gate. “What if it’s her shade? Or the mage taking her form? The things we saw in Poison Forest...”
I think about my theory that Rothbart takes on the powers of his victims, and that he stole my mother’s gift for transfiguration. But Rothbart’s attempts to steal her power went wrong. Poison Forest is proof of that.
“I don’t think it is,” I say, “but if I’m wrong, I’ll bear the weight of my mistake. Stay here.”
Sweeping back the hood of my cloak, I stand and leave the seclusion of the corner where we’re hidden. I’m halfway to Dette when she sees me and stops. In the moonlight, her light brown skin looks opalescent, her eyes wide and startled.
“Dette. Is it you?”
“Yes.”
I clutch her hands when I reach her, feeling the fragile bones beneath my fingers. She holds herself as regally as ever, and she’s whole, not visibly sick or maimed. But when she speaks, her voice is a hollow shell. And she’s thinner, her cheekbones sharper than before. There are dark circles beneath her eyes.
“You’re all right.”
“Thedra, why did you come here?”
“I had to.” My throat is thick with tears. “I couldn’t just leave you to possibly die! And the way we left things ...”
“You must go,” she whispers. She glances around the courtyard. “Now, before he sees you.”
“I came all this way for you.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t go with you.”
“Don’t be thickheaded.”
“Thedra, listen. He is powerful. Cunning. If you made it this far, it’s because he wanted you to.”
I stare at her, thinking her captivity and fear of Rothbart have made her imagine him to be more powerful than he is. He may be a great mage, but he doesn’t have the ability to see inside my mind. Not yet, anyway.
“Dette, come now and tell me everything later. We came through the secret tunnel. Remember it?”
“Of course.”
I wonder why she didn’t use it to escape, but I don’t have time to ask the question before she answers it.
“I can’t go beyond the lake. If I do, I’ll...change. I’ve tried. The further I get from Lebed, the weaker I become. He’s harnessed my magic. Now go back. Quickly.” She looks over her shoulder at the Lookout—the pinnacle of Alder Tower. “He sleeps a few hours after moonrise, but he can see us from there if he wakes up.”
Her hand clutches my arm, long nails digging into my flesh. I’m reminded of the sylph girl again and I want to grab Dette and drag her to the tunnel entrance, but reason tells me to hear her out. I don’t understand what she means about changing, but if she doesn’t want to come with me, there’s a valid reason.
“You’ve been betrayed,” she whispers. “Someone in your company helped you get here.”
“That’s impossible. We nearly died in Thornewood and were attacked on the way to the pass. Everyone is trustworthy.” I turn back to look at Plover and Gate, hidden in the shadows.
That’s when I realize Neev is gone.
I stride back to them. “Where is Neev? She was with us when we came out of the tunnel.”
Gate turns in a circle, searching our surroundings. “She was right behind me.”
“Neev?” Dette looks puzzled. “My lady-in-waiting?”
“She came with me to help free you. She insisted.”
Dette’s nut-brown eyes darken to black in the moonlight. “She’s gone to him.”
I shake my head. “That’s impossible,” I say again. “Not Neev. She—she loves me.”
The look Dette gives me sinks deep into the pit of my stomach like a knife. It’s the same look I’ve had on my face a hundred times when trying to understand how Rothbart fooled my mother so easily. How he fooled all of us.
