Glissanda Page 21

  “Now, where might I find my boy?” He stands, looking around into the darkness.

  I point to the far side of the fire, where I’d last seen Leif talking with Tui. Already steeling myself for Leif’s reaction …

  While Nile goes to try to soften the blow of his news to Leif, I look for Catriona and Imogen.

  Before I find them, I hear a commotion near where the kitchen area has been set up. I run over to see what’s happening, and find a dozen people standing around a large ale barrel.

  “Where’d that come from?” I ask them.

  “Beats me,” one of the women says. “It just appeared here while we were away washing up. Do you—do you think it’s okay to drink?”

  Not surprisingly, Tui suddenly appears. “I’ll try it.” He starts toward the barrel.

  I grab his arm, holding him back. “Are you sure? What if it’s a trick? What if Dominic sent it and it’s … poisoned?” As soon as I say the words, old Araroa’s image fills my mind. I shake my head as if I could clear it out. Of course Dominic wouldn’t harm his father, he’s just a kid … or would he?

  “What about letting one of the goats try some? They’re always keen on licking up the spilt ale, plus they’d be sensitive to any … harmful substances.”

  There’s no further discussion; someone rushes off to grab one of the older goats from the pen and returns only a minute later. Someone else has poured a bit of ale into a small dish.

  As expected, the goat sniffs the ale, then laps it up eagerly. We watch it closely: it stumbles around a bit at first, a bit tippy perhaps, but several minutes pass and the animal appears to be fine.

  “That’s good enough for me!” Tui’s already standing by with a mug in his hand, and now he fills it from the tap, froth spilling over the brim. He drinks the ale down just as eagerly as the goat. “Ah! Good gods, that’s excellent ale,” he says, wiping his chin with his sleeve.

  I accept the mug of ale that’s pressed into my hands, then step off to the side with Tui to talk. The barrel is huge and I have no idea how it got here without anyone noticing. There’s plenty to go around for those who drink ale. Everyone is in a state of glee; it’s been a very long time since we’ve enjoyed such a treat.

  I wish I could enjoy it as much as everyone, but I end up tipping most of my mug out onto the stones.

  Tui grabs my hand, but he’s too late. “What are you doing? You’ve just wasted several good slugs of the finest Palace ale!”

  “That’s why I dumped it out, Tui. It just feels … suspicious, that’s all.”

  “Why don’t you offer some up to those Loyalist blokes? Maybe we can get them on our side.” He winks, pointing at a group of the armed men leaning against a wall not far from us.

  A corner of my mouth turns up as I consider this. “Probably should have let them try it first, instead of the goat.”

  Tui nudges my arm with his. “Now you’re thinking.”

  “Hey!” I holler over at the Loyalists. “Help yourselves!”

  They look over at each other in silent questioning. I see a couple of them shrug their shoulders, then walk slowly up to the barrel.

  Next thing I know, they’ve each got a mug in their hand, sipping slowly. They’re not talking to any of the Treasoners, but no one is fighting, either.

  “Well, what do you know,” Tui says.

  Suddenly a sharp voice behind us. Catriona’s. “What’s going on over there? What are those bastard Loyalists doing?”

  I shrug. “Just thought we might win them over, if only a little, with a bit of ale.”

  Catriona snorts. “You know, those lugs are such idiots, that it just might work. Can’t hurt anyway. But listen, I came to find you because I ran into Nile. He told me he’s setting off in the morning to look for your parents, and your mum, Tui. I told him that I’m going with.”

  Unfortunately, Tui’d just taken a big slug of ale, and at Catriona’s words he spits it out, sending the yeasty-smelling spray flying. It just misses my arm.

  “What?” he says through clenched teeth.

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more furious look on his face.

  “You can’t be serious!” he growls. “You can’t leave now, Cat! This thing is finally about to go down. We’re all set to get Raven on the throne. That’s very sweet of you and all, but … gah!” He takes several stomps away from us, hands curled into fists. He spins around and walks back toward us. “Look—we’ve talked about this. You can’t make decisions like this on your own … without at least considering me, or my situation, here, with Raven. I can’t keep doing this … saying goodbye to you and not knowing when I’ll see you again …”

  Catriona’s watching him, her eyes large and blinking slowly, her arms crossed in front of her body. “Are you done?”

  Tui’s taking deep, shuddering breaths. His answer to her is silence.

  I’m standing between them, looking back and forth. Feeling more than slightly uncomfortable. I take a step backward. “You know, I’ll let you two talk about this on your own. I think I … need to go find Leif …”

  Neither of them even acknowledges that I’ve said a word.

  I quickly dart away, leaving them to it. I feel truly awful for Tui, knowing how much he loves Catriona. I thought they’d got this issue sorted, but clearly she’s still got wanderlust. It’s in her Tracker blood, after all.

  Worst of all, I’m selfishly glad she’s going with Nile—both to keep him safe, and to help him track down my family. With his connections, and her tracking ability, if my family is still alive, those two will find them. I have no idea how I’m going to get Tui to understand though …

  Suddenly, someone’s got hold of my arms. I blink, disoriented at being lost in my thoughts.

  I look down.

  It’s the hooded boy.

  “How did you—where did you—” I start.

  “Shhh …” He puts a finger to his lips. “The Prince, I mean, the King would like to talk with you. Alone.”

  I look around. I’ve wandered off in the direction of the stables. The hum of activity in the square reaches my ears again, around the corner from where I’m standing now. The two of us are alone.

  I take a deep breath. “Excellent. He’s who I’m here to see.”

  The hooded boy leads me into the Palace through a narrow servants entrance. As we walk, the thought flashes through my mind that I should probably have someone with me—Imogen, perhaps? Leif, at least. But I keep on following the boy, not wishing to squander this opportunity. My hand drifts down to Imogen’s sword, still at my side. I touch the leather-wrapped grip and a feeling of confidence seeps up my arm, into my chest.

  Surely I can talk to my own blood brother by myself.

  It’s late, and the inside of the Palace is dimly lit. As we walk down the entrance hall, I lean my head down, toward the boy’s hood. “Did you … the ale?”

  “Shhh …” He puts a finger to his lips to emphasize the point. But there’s a nearly imperceptible nod, and then I understand. Of course—it was sent as a distraction. Everyone outside is busy drinking ale—even the Loyalists—and here I am in the Palace.

  Alone.

  Unprotected.

  The bearcat head flashes into my mind’s eye. Dominic is as ruthless as his father. Probably more so.

  I stop walking. The hooded boy takes a few more steps, then turns toward me.

  “I’m not so sure about this,” I whisper.

  The boy blinks, looking directly at me, but saying nothing at first. I notice for the first time that his eyes are green, and they flash for a moment in the candlelight.

  Then he finally speaks. “If he hurts you, I’ll kill him myself.”

  My eyes go wide as his words register. “Who are you?”

  But he’s silent again; he only shakes his head, the sapphire-blue of his cloak hood shimmers in the candle-lit hallway.

  “All right, take me to Dominic.”

  A slight smile, then he spins around again, and continue
s down the hallway.

  He leads me to the throne room, the ornate gilt doors already propped open.

  I step inside.

  The room is empty, there is only the throne set on the dais at the head of the long room. Leif had told me that Prince Dominic used to sit on a smaller, less ornate chair at his side. This chair is gone now. The throne itself—gold, inset with sapphires and rubies, upholstered with purple velvet—is empty.

  “Where is—” I spin around, but the hooded boy is nowhere to be seen. I run back out through the doors to the entrance hall. It’s vacant.

  I slowly turn around to face the throne. I walk toward it, suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to touch it. More than that, I want to sit in it …

  I walk up the few steps to the dais and place my hand on the gilt arm; it’s smooth and cool, worn down from generations of Kings sitting, right here. I touch the purple velvet, envisioning what color I would have the chair upholstered in: red? blue? gold? This sickly violet color will the the first to go … when this Palace is mine.

  “Go on, try it.” A small voice behind me.

  I spin around to face Dominic.

  “Why? What would be the point?”

  He grins up at me devilishly; I notice his teeth are rather pointed, like a dog’s. “So when you think of this room in the future, when you think of me here, on this throne, looking out”—he waves his arm around the room, as if it were filled with his loyal subjects—“then you’ll remember exactly what you can’t have.”

  A derisive sound escapes my throat. “And I think you’d better have a seat, as the times are numbered that you’ll be able to do so. Each time you sit on this throne, you do so unlawfully. I’m the true heir, and you are nothing but an imposter.”

  Dominic’s grin fades. He’s wearing a miniature purple robe—just like his father’s—it still looks ridiculous on him.

  “That’s not true.” His voice is small, with a slight waver.

  I take a step toward him. “It is true. You’ve seen my people outside in the square, right? Well, they’re not leaving. I’m not leaving. My bearcats aren’t leaving either, despite what you did to one of their clan.”

  Something flashes across his face—shame?—then he glances down at the floor, just for a beat. When he looks back up, his face is impassive. “The bearcats were trespassing, hunting on crown land. If they do it again, my men will kill them. One by one. They need to return to the mountains, where they belong. What’s more, you are all trespassing. I should have every single one of you arrested and sent up to the prison camp where—”

  My laugh echoes out into the dark throne room. “You know, I think I will have a seat, just to try it as you suggested.”

  Before he can argue, I take the three steps back, settling myself atop the velvet cushion. I lean back, resting my arms on the gilt arms of the chair. I’m surprised at how comfortable it is; I thought my father’s throne would be much too large, but it’s almost as if it were made for me.

  I smile at the imposter King, who’s now looking around the room with wild eyes, making sure there are no witnesses. When he looks back at me, his face wearing a mask of disbelief, I continue. “Your father tried that. It didn’t work. The camp is closed. And if you re-open it, if you even attempt to do so, we’ll put a stop to it. Mark those words. What’s more, my bearcats have every right to hunt anywhere in this kingdom, as do you and I. Do not harm one again.”

  His small throat bobs as he takes a deep swallow. I can tell he’s starting to feel uncomfortable now, that he’d thought he’d have the upper hand here tonight. Maybe he thought his threats would actually work.

  But anything out of his mouth rings hollow. At least to my ears.

  I ask him, “Why did you want me to come here tonight?” With me seated, we’re face-to-face now.

  “I just … I just want to know what you want. What can I give you so you’ll leave? What can I do? You’re right about the bearcats. I didn’t like ordering one to be killed. I’m rather curious about them myself …” His voice trails off, as if he’d forgotten what he was going to say next. He shakes his head, straightens up, composes himself. “But I can’t have all this chaos outside. I just want to be left alone. Tell me—what can I do so you will all leave?”

  I can hardly believe what he’s saying, it’s got to be too good to be true. I think of all the things that I could say, all the things I’ve wanted to: I could ask him to let the Treasoners go home, to call off the Loyalists, to send a search party out for my family, to allow Nuimana to rejoin Nadir, to send supplies to rebuild Baldachin, to make sure everyone in the Bastion is fed and prosperous.

  I study his face, and I’m sure of it: I could make any or all of these requests and he’d grant them. Just as long as I left him and the Palace alone. Make it easy for him.

  But I can’t help it as a small smile forms on my face. Then the words leave my lips, words I never imagined I’d say, given this opportunity.

  “There’s only one thing you can do: turn around, and leave this room. And accept the fact that this throne is mine.”

  There is a very long pause. I watch Dominic struggle to take even breaths.

  But I am completely calm inside, calmer than I’ve ever been.

  “I cannot do that,” he finally says in a small voice.

  “Then you’d better get ready for war,” I say.

  Chapter 17

  Dominic had ordered me out after that, and I was happy to comply.

  The hooded boy is waiting for me outside the throne room. He leads me to the front doors of the palace, opens one of the two enormous doors, just a crack, then waves me through.

  I’m about to slip through the door when I grab the boy’s arm. He startles, green eyes wide.

  “Please, you must tell me what you know! When you warned me, about Dominic taking the throne … well, he has. You said something terrible was going to happen—what is it?”

  The boy simply shakes his head. “It was … nothing. I was wrong. Maybe … maybe this really is for the best. I’m sorry.” He’s speaking so quietly I have to lean down, my head nearly touching his so I’m able to hear him.

  I release his arm. He brushes his sleeve, smoothing the woolen cloth back down. I give him one last look, then slip soundlessly through the doors.

  I take only two steps before I’m surrounded. Tui is there, and Leif and Imogen. They grab hold of me and together we hurry down the steps of the Palace, then off to the side. Once we’re out of sight from those in the square, I’m hit with a barrage of questioning.

  “Where have you been?” Leif’s eyes are wide with worry.

  Tui’s hand tightens on my arm. “Leif’s right—what was that all about? How could you go in there on your own?”

  I clench my jaw, pull my arms out of their grasp, a fury welling up deep inside me.

  “Give her some space, boys,” Imogen says. “I know you two were worried, but she’s clearly all right.”

  I look back and forth at Tui and Leif. Both of their faces dripping with concern. My fury fades, just a little bit. I fill them in from the beginning, starting with the hooded boy coming to find me, my meeting with Dominic, and ending with what I still can’t believe I said.

  “I think I’ve declared war on him. When I left, I told him we’d take the Palace by force, if he wasn’t going to willingly step aside.”

  Leif’s brows shoot up; he opens his mouth to speak, but no sound escapes.

  Tui throws his fist in the air. “Yes! It’s about time, Raven. This has gone on far too long.”

  Imogen’s mouth is hanging open, a mirror image of Leif’s. Her face finally breaks into a huge grin. “Excellent. I’ve already got several captains lined up. If it’s all right with you, I’ll go find them at once and form our strategy.”

  “Wait!” I grab hold of her arm as she turns to go. “We’ll not attack yet. I want to give him some … time.”

  Imogen doesn’t even try to contain her irritated look.

 
“Really?”

  I nod.

  “Fine. But we’ve still got to be ready to—”

  Just then, there is a sound from the direction of the Palace: a chorus of boots marching on the stones. We all turn to look at once. Dozens of Hunters are moving in from around the sides, forming a barrier three-deep in front of the building. They shove the Loyalists aside, who are standing in their way, clearly wishing to assert their authority.

  I look around at all the Treasoners and the remaining Loyalists in the square; they are watching the show too, the entire crowd filled with an air of incredulousness.

  “I guess I’d better go explain what’s going on to everyone,” I say.

  Leif finally appears to find his voice again. “And I’ll go with you,” he says. “I’m not going to leave your side, again.”

  “Me neither,” Tui says. “Well, I mean …” He turns to go, but not before I catch a glimpse of his flushing cheeks.

  I make my way to the center of the square. There’s a large, black marble statue there, one of the male Kings riding a massive stallion, the horse’s front legs pawing at the air. I climb up and hold onto one of the rear legs and face the Treasoners. I watch the bearcats moving in out of the darkness, and soon realize they’ve surrounded me. Protecting me.

  The joviality in the air has faded, the ale long gone. The Loyalists slink back toward the perimeter, amongst the Hunters standing guard before the Palace. It’s Us and Them again.

  “I’ve just had a meeting with King Dominic.”

  The crowd gasps—a wave of whispering.

  “I’ve declared my intention to take the throne.”

  A split second of silence, then a raucous cheer erupts into the night sky.

  I wait for quiet again, then continue. “Dominic—His Majesty—is not to be harmed. We will not harm any of his men, either. We will remain here peacefully in protest. We will not leave until he steps down.”

  There are no cheers, this time. I know they want blood. But I can’t do that. It’s not the King I wish to be.