“The Bone Lands are vast,” I murmured, looking out into the green. “Is that forest?”
She shook her head. “No, those are mostly farmlands. There were forests around here, but they’ve been culled and are starting to regrow. The shipbuilders in Liatos get their trees from the mountain regions now.”
“My father always said you had strong farms. You feed your people well.”
She smiled. “Yes. One of Calix’s first acts as king was to improve our farmlands. His quaesitori found that the land can be fortified so that it won’t grow fallow as often, and it’s worked very well.”
I frowned. “What’s a quaesitori?” Weren’t they the men who Calix wished to send into the desert?
“They are men of knowledge,” she said. “They study the ways of the world. Calix has been very enamored of their art ever since we were young.”
Kairos drew his horse up beside mine. “I can’t quite imagine him as a child,” Kairos said. “Your mother must have had her hands full.”
“I suppose so. It was only my father who would ever chastise him, even before my mother died.”
I looked at Danae. Her posture was straighter now, and she looked only ahead. I couldn’t imagine losing my mother so young—or ever. Even being away from her for a few days felt like someone was pulling my insides out.
Her shoulders lifted. “But no one could ever really discipline Calix anyway. From a very young age, he wasn’t just a prince, he was a god. It changes things.” Her shoulders dropped back down. “And then he became a king, and his will became his undeniable asset. It might have been the only thing protecting me and my brother when foreign kings and even our own vestai would have taken the crown away. And our lives, I’m sure.”
“Was his early reign so difficult?” I asked her, quieting my voice.
She nodded. “It has taken a long time to achieve peace. For all of us.” She laughed, a sharp, short sound. “But yes, being the younger sibling of a god is complicated.”
“But you and your brother are also gods, aren’t you?” I asked.
She looked at me. “Yes. But the faces of the God are never entirely equal.” She shook her head.
“Don’t bore her, Danae,” Galen said, riding up the column to Danae’s side.
“I’m not bored,” I assured him. “You were raised very differently from us, it seems.”
Galen’s jaw worked, but Kairos chuckled. “Yes, well, having older brothers upon older cousins upon uncles means someone is generally willing to thump some discipline into you.” Kai laughed. “Though it’s the girls who are the worst. All that pinching.”
“You must be an accomplished fighter,” Galen said to Kairos. “You should teach me how to wield those scimitars.”
Kairos shrugged and held out his arm, and Osmost swooped, making Galen jump. Osmost grabbed Kai’s covered wrist, then hopped to his shoulder, opening his mouth and giving Kairos an affectionate kik-kik-kik noise that almost sounded like he was laughing. “Me? I’m not much of a fighter,” Kairos said, his smile turning sly. “When you have four older brothers who could pound you into the ground, you learn different skills.” Kairos held out his hand with a thick leather glove to guard against the bird’s claws, and Osmost jumped to it, letting Kairos bring him in close to pet his feathers as Osmost glared at Galen. “But a scimitar is just a big sword, really. Watch out for the pointy parts.”
I expected Galen to be insulted, but instead his eyes narrowed at Kairos, and I wondered if he understood the truth—with four older brothers who could pound anyone into the ground, Kairos was by far the most dangerous.
Osmost’s head cocked, and Kairos winced as his claws dug in. Osmost leaped into flight, winging fast and high, and Kairos reined in his horse. “Stop,” he said sharply, looking around. “Shalia, go there,” he said, pointing to a break in the rocky wall on one side of the road.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The hawk’s letting me know there’s danger,” he told me.
“What kind?” Galen asked.
“He’s a hawk,” Kairos snapped. “He’s not specific.”
“Go with your sister,” Galen ordered. I still hadn’t moved, and I looked to Kairos, who didn’t come closer. “I’m not leaving her alone by the side of the road.”
Kairos nodded at this, wheeling his horse over to me. No sooner did he turn than a cry rose up, and men started flooding out of the trees around the road. My horse reared, but I held on, locating a break in the rocks and urging him toward it as Kairos followed close behind, shouting at me.
I practically leaped off the horse to get lower and deeper into the small space, and Kairos moved in front of me, his gleaming scimitar drawn as another row of guards closed off the break in the rock.
Beyond the guards, men were rushing at each other, but they all seemed to look the same, their uniforms indistinguishable to my eyes. I didn’t know how the soldiers could tell good from bad.
And then a man came perilously close to the line of guards, and I saw a green dragon stitched onto his coat.
And the dragon looked frighteningly like the symbol for my family.
Then I saw only red as a knife slashed across his throat and blood poured out. He fell, and Danae stood behind him with a knife in her hand.
She met my eyes for a moment, and I saw no fear there, no hesitation.
“Shalia, back!” Kairos yelled, and I saw the guards fighting, someone breaking through and raising his sword to my brother.
Kairos was a force to be reckoned with when he had a blade in his hands, but it didn’t calm the fear rising in my chest. The dust from the road rose with the fervor of so many moving bodies, and it was hard to tell who was coming for whom.
The man Kairos was fighting fell, but two more sprang on him. In wartime, desert men carried two scimitars—and knew what to do with them—but Kairos was only wearing one today.
They set upon him viciously, and his sword flashed as he fought them both off.
Then a third appeared, brandishing a knife and heading for my brother.
“Kai!” I screamed, launching forward, everything else vanishing in my need to protect him.
Kairos turned as the man made his move, and one of the others raised his sword.
A cracking sound boomed above me, and I looked away from Kairos to see where it came from. Then the mountain moved, blocking out the light as a boulder sheared off the rock overhead and came crashing down.
Kairos dropped his scimitar and dove for me, hitting my body and dragging me down as the rock crashed, too large to get into our small corner. Everything shuddered, and more rocks swept down over us as the boulder slammed into the road, stilling before it rolled and fell off the other side.
The sounds of the fighting were loud, but no one was near us now. Dust rose thick around us, and I couldn’t breathe, coughing against Kairos as he kept me down and away, and it felt like he was sheltering my thundering heart as much as my body.
A dense curtain of dust hid us away from the fighting. The men who had been attacking him were broken on the ground, their bodies still and red.
Almost like the rock knew what I wanted.
I sucked in a breath, and it was thick with dust. I coughed it out as my heart pounded and I fought to get in any clean air, my chest tight with panic.
My hands were tingling, and it was more than the rush of fear—I had felt this before. On the bridge, when the veil had been removed and the shiver seemed to start inside me and end on the rocks.
The earth had answered me. The earth had reacted to me.
I used Kai’s scarf to cover my mouth as I desperately tried to breathe without coughing, black spots dancing in my eyes as all my thoughts and fears stormed inside my mind and I still couldn’t breathe.
Kata had told me, she’d told me for years—she always thought I had an ability. A power. Like her, but she could control water. What if I could control earth?
Foul sorcery.
No. No, I couldn’t po
ssibly. If I could control earth, if I was like Kata, I would be a traitor to my new country. Peace would be broken before it was even real.
The scarf helped, and I finally got in a full breath, then another one. A cough came quick on the heels of the third, and the spots burst across my vision again.
Which was worse? Dying here for lack of air, or living to break the peace and betray my new husband with a power I couldn’t possibly have?
“Kairos,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Stay quiet, Shy,” Kai said softly, moving off me and pulling me farther into the alcove.
I nodded, trying to repress my cough as I followed him.
“Are you all right?” he asked quietly, looking up, watching the mountain like it was about to attack.
Was I? “Can Osmost get word to Kata?” I asked.
His eyes met mine, confused and questioning, always seeing more than I wanted them to. Then understanding sparked, and his head jerked up, searching the cliff again. “No, Shalia. I know she always said—I know it’s possible—but of anyone, you cannot have that power. Not with your husband.”
“Kairos, can he get a message to her? I have to see her. I have to …” I trailed off, looking up at the cliff. “Kairos, please.”
Something clamored closer in the dust, and he huffed out a breath. “Yes,” he said. “Don’t breathe a word of this, Shalia. Don’t even think about it.”
I nodded, gripping his hand and pulling myself up.
“Shalia!” I heard someone yelling. The clanging noises of steel were becoming quieter, and I saw shapes moving in the clearing dust. Kairos moved away from me as Galen charged through the dust. “You’re all right?” Galen asked, touching my chin and turning my head this way and that.
“I’m unharmed,” I said. It certainly wasn’t the same thing, but it was the only answer I could give.
“Come with me,” he said. “The column is broken. I need to get you to safety.”
“Where is Calix?” I asked.
“He’s coming behind us,” he said. “We need to secure you both as quickly as possible.”
Kairos let out a low, sharp whistle, and his dark brown horse came trotting back to us, with no sign of mine.
“Take my horse,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
I nodded, swinging onto it. Galen put his foot in the stirrup, and I pulled at the reins. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Escorting you.”
“We’ll be faster on two horses,” I insisted.
“You’re all right to ride on your own?” he asked, surprised. “It’s a difficult ride.”
I nodded sharply. “I told you, I am unharmed. If the horse can do it, I can.”
He found his own horse, turning back to look at me. “Follow me closely. Shout if we are separated by more than the length of a horse,” he said.
“I will,” I promised.
He led the horses off the road, down the steep, sloping terrain littered with rocks and trees. I held my breath at the sharp pitch, but the horse knew what to do, following behind Galen’s until we hit open fields, and the horses ran, not at a full gallop, but a quick canter.
We crossed through fields, and passed small farmhouses, and I wondered why we couldn’t stop there. Was there not enough room, or did Galen not trust their loyalty to the king?
“Here,” he called, leading me down a path around a field of some sort of tall grain. I saw a large gate guarding a road and, farther in, a sprawling home.
Two guards appeared as we approached, and Galen shouted, “In the name of the king, open the gates!”
The guards didn’t hesitate, opening the gates and letting us ride in.
By the time we reached a pretty fountain, a woman was coming out of the house to stand on the steps. She was older, her hair white and still well kept. “Commander,” she said, dropping her head to him. “How can I be of service?”
“Forgive the imposition, Domina Naxos,” he said, inclining his head to her before he jumped from his horse and came to attend to me. “The king and queen have been attacked. This was the closest place we could come for shelter.”
“You are welcome to it, dear boy,” she said, turning to a servant and ordering rooms opened, fires lit, food made, and everyone who could tend to an injury made ready. Galen helped me down, letting out a breath when I was on the ground, as if he could relax now that I was secured.
He brought me to the woman. “This is your new queen,” he told her. “My queen, this is Domina Naxos. The domina and her late husband were good friends to my grandfather.”
“And always to you,” she said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He warmed to this, and it was the closest to a smile I’d ever seen on his face. She turned to me, bowing and taking my hands to kiss each in turn. “Welcome, my queen. I am sorry for your hardship.”
“Thank you for taking us in,” I told her. “Has anyone else arrived?” Anxiously, I looked around, but we were the only ones.
“No,” she said. “But come. We will see you clean and fed.”
Galen nodded me inside, and I followed where she led. She gave us water to wash, and I splashed my face and my hands to clear them of dust. When I was done, Galen took off his black jacket with a grunt, and I saw why. There was a cut on his arm, not deep but still bleeding.
It looked like the work of a sword, not a rock, but it suddenly made me wonder if I had protected my brother to harm someone else’s.
But no—the farther I got from that moment, the more I doubted that I had been the one to pull a boulder from the mountain.
Drawing breath, I asked one of the servants for a few bandages. “Sit,” I told Galen, gesturing to a stool. “You’re hurt.”
“And?” he asked, arching one of his sharp eyebrows, but sitting on the stool I directed him to. “Is there something you intend to do about it?”
“Yes,” I told him. “You do know I have five brothers quite prone to fighting, don’t you?”
He grunted, which I took as a yes.
“They get into many scrapes, which girls are usually required to fix.”
“I don’t need a woman to tend to my wounds,” he said. “I can do it myself.”
“Oh, for the Skies,” I told him with a sigh. The servant reappeared with the bandages, and I took them from her, dipping a fresh cloth in the water. I reached for his cuff, and he pulled away. “Galen, really,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“My sleeve won’t go up that far,” he said simply. He tugged his shirt off over his head, and I felt heat flush my face as I focused on his wound.
I took the clean, wet cloth and brushed the debris out of the wound. His jaw went tight, but he didn’t flinch, looking ahead as I did it. I snuck glances at his chest. It was similar in size, but so very different from his brother’s—full of scars and honed muscles, equally as solid and carved as his face.
“It’s not deep,” I told him, pressing to stem the blood. “You won’t even need stitching.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
I smiled at his continued stoniness. “I planned this whole thing,” I told him, and his eyes cut to me. “So I could tend to your wound and you’d finally be forced to like me.”
I wrapped a length of bandage around his arm as tightly as I could. A muscle in his jaw flared as I tied it. “It needs to be tight,” I told him.
“I didn’t complain,” he answered. “And I don’t dislike you.”
“Will you answer some questions if I ask you, then?” I sat back, rinsing my hands as he put on his shirt, then washed his face and put on his jacket, all buttoned up again.
“That usually depends on the question,” he said.
“What happened today?”
He looked out the window. “I believe the Resistance was after the tax money that Atalo paid us. It was a fortune in gold tri-kings.”
The Resistance. Hadn’t Kata said that was the name of Rian’s cause? He could have been following us since the desert. ??
?Did they take it?”
He nodded. “Yes. Calix will be in a foul mood tonight,” he said, his eyes flicking to me like a warning.
“I saw Danae cut a man’s throat,” I said. “She didn’t look afraid. She looked like she knew what she was doing. I’ve never seen a woman commit violence like that with such ease or ability.”
There was a grave expression on his face, and he crossed his arms. “I would ask you to speak to her about that. It’s not my information to share.”
I nodded, swallowing. What kind of secret did she harbor? “Very well.”
“Kairos is here,” he said, his watchful eyes on the window. “Do you have any more questions for me?”
“No.”
He started toward the door and then halted. “You should tell Calix you were hurt,” he said, his eyes on the door and not on me. “I don’t know who he’ll vent his rage on, but it will be someone, and if he thinks you’re injured, it won’t be you.”
This made my breath stop, but Galen just left the room.
I shook my head. What did that mean? I knew my husband could be short tempered, but the warning made fear curl at the back of my neck.
Moments later, Kairos came to me, eager to wash up. He dipped his hands in the pink-tinged water, and I looked at him, feeling incredibly lost. He sighed heavily, leaning on the table as water dripped from his face. “Shalia, what you said before—” he started.
I shook my head fast. “No, Kai. Not here.” I bit my lip, sucking in a breath like with it I could hold so many secrets. “Did Osmost return?”
He nodded. “He’s hunting outside.”
“How far behind you is the king?”
“Not far,” he said. “Apparently the attackers got his money, and he’s not happy.” I nodded, and he hesitated, forming more words slowly. “The thing before,” he said carefully. “What if it happens again?”
“It won’t,” I assured him, but it was false. I couldn’t even consider controlling it, because it wasn’t possibly real. Was it? Then I shook my head. “I’m not even certain I did … that.”
He nodded. “Just be careful. I’ll send Osmost out tonight, and I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve heard from Kata.”