Glissanda Read online

  Suddenly, the events of the past year don’t make sense any longer. “Why was old Araroa so eager to have me killed then? If there wasn’t any written proof that I had a claim to the throne? He could have simply left me alone. Said I was a bastard child or something …”

  But the look on Imogen’s face makes me stop speaking. Her lips have curled into a small smile, and she silently swoops her arm in an exaggerated motion, toward all that’s happening in the square around us. Then, I understand: once Nadir’s people learned of my existence, my destiny to one day be seated upon the throne of Nadir became real.

  “Still, if only old Araroa were still alive, I could ask him more.” I can’t help thinking aloud.

  Imogen’s smile fades. She bites her bottom lip, her eyes flicking about. “Yes, that is unfortunate. He shouldn’t have made so many enemies, I guess. Well, I’m going to find something to eat. I heard Tui was looking for you.” Before I can respond, she departs, suddenly, disappearing into the groups of Treasoners huddling together around the square.

  Her reaction causes a sense of unease to unfurl deep in my stomach. It’s a familiar one: the feeling of a tiny crack forming in what was once an unbreakable trust.

  One I’ll never ignore again.

  Chapter 18

  Despite my misgivings, we ready for battle.

  The women take the children to various underground shelters around the Bastion, the children protesting loudly that they don’t want to miss the excitement, their mothers not so much.

  I take Cecil aside and we talk. I tell him that Dominic might order his Hunters to kill the bearcats.

  He emits a low growl before responding, “I can take ten of those measly little men out with one swipe of my paw. My fellow cats can too. Don’t you fret, m’lady. We’re ready.”

  But his words only comfort me a little. I’m sure it won’t be quite so easy as that.

  We hold drills until midnight, and finally let the fire die down. I bid everyone good night, and hope for us all to get some rest.

  The night is cloudy, moonless. I’m leaning on an unlit lantern post; my eyelids are heavy. Most people are resting, others keeping watch. Leif is asleep in our tent; I’d told him I’d be right in after I had a quick check on everyone.

  Tui’s voice is behind me in the dark. “You should get some sleep, Raven. I have a feeling tomorrow’s going to be a very long day.”

  I turn around, leaning my back against the cold iron post. “Ha! And you’ll be right about that, I’m sure of it.”

  I study my old friend’s face for a moment. There’s a lot there. I start with the most obvious thing. “I’m sorry Catriona left. I’m sorry I didn’t stop her …”

  Tui snorts. “I don’t think even you could stop her. Once she decides to go, she’s gone.” He sighs, deeply, looks down, kicks a loose stone; it pings somewhere in the distance behind me.

  “I know. I’m sorry about that too.”

  He looks back at me. “I wish she were as loyal as you, Raven. You and Leif—you’ve spent time apart. But you clearly had your fill and now you’re inseparable. He’s not going to leave your side again unless wolves pulled him away. And not even then, probably. He’d kill them first. And you … you’ve always been by my side. Even when we’re apart. I just don’t get that feeling with Cat. I’m never quite sure I’ll see her again …” As his voice trails off I watch his jaw working.

  Suddenly my eyes are moist. My chest fills with physical hurt as I witness my best friend’s pain. I know how much Tui loves Catriona … but I think he’s right: she doesn’t feel quite the same.

  I reach my hand toward him. He takes it, tightly, then pulls me into him. I wrap my arms around his girth, my face buried in his warm chest. I can feel him taking great, long breaths. Trying to keep himself together.

  I give him another squeeze, then lean back so I can see his face once more.

  “Catriona will find your mother, Tui. Then she’ll be back. Hopefully this will all be sorted out by then, and the both of you can return to Baldachin to rebuild. Maybe she just needs more time—”

  “No. I don’t think so. I’ve given her enough time to decide about me, enough chances. It’s over.”

  I study his face once again and now I see the resignation there. “I love you, Tui.”

  His face softens, then his mouth spreads into a wide smile. He reaches up and strokes my hair, then plants a kiss on my forehead. “I love you too, Raven. I always will. No matter what happens.”

  I hold my friend for a few minutes more, wishing I could ease his pain. But I know that only time will erase it.

  Eventually, I take Tui’s advice and join Leif in the tent for some rest.

  It’s cold, and I wrap the blanket around me tightly. I curl up close to Leif, hoping his warmth will seep into my body. I reach for my obsidian pendant, still hanging around my neck, and rub the smooth surface with my thumb. I think of Papa, the man who carved it, my true father.

  I close my eyes and say a silent wish that he and Mum are okay. They kept me safe for so many years. Now it’s my turn to do the same for them.

  I will not lose this war.

  It’s only a few hours later that the blowing horns awaken me, just as the day before. I hurry outside to see three of Dominic’s counselors on the Palace balcony. Leif and I reach the gathering crowd; they step aside to let us through. We stop behind the line of bearcats, still standing protectively against the heavily armed Loyalists and the violet-coated Hunters guarding the Palace. And my throne.

  The counselor in front holds up a hand to silence the crowd.

  It takes no effect; the square hums with talk and a low, uniform growl from the bearcats’ throats.

  “Quiet!” the counselor pleads again.

  I walk over to the statue in the center of the square, climb up it, and hold up a hand.

  This time, the square goes silent. I have to try very hard not to smile, to keep my face even.

  From this distance, I can see the counselor’s eyes flicking about, taking in the scene before him. Something that’s never happened in all the history of Nadir: the people demanding justice.

  “Is the Prince ready to step down?” I call up to the men. The one in front smooths down his violet sleeves before answering.

  “Most definitely not. King Dominic has ordered, once again, that all of you depart immediately. He’ll allow only one more hour for you to do so. If you refuse, he has commanded his officers to shoot.”

  From my vantage point, I see each of the Hunters has been armed with a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a large spear. The Loyalists too.

  But the Treasoners are equally armed; we’ve got bows and arrows, spears, knives, swords, scythes. Many are protected with leather armor, although rudimentarily made. I’m not the only woman left, either. Although the mothers and children are gone, there are dozens of women still present, young and old. All are alert, holding their weapons at the ready. Ready to fight for me. No—they are prepared to fight for what’s right. That the true heir of Nadir should sit upon the throne, at last.

  Someone’s watching me, just to my left. I glance down to see Imogen standing there, with Leif on her other side. A corner of her mouth turns up and she nods.

  I look back toward the counselor. “We’re not leaving. Not until the Prince steps down and gives the throne back to its rightful owner—Raven Seraphine Aegis Araroa, firstborn daughter of King and Queen Araroa of Nadir—me.”

  A twitter goes through the crowd; weapons are adjusted.

  “Very well,” the counselor says. “I’ll let the King know. Prepare to defend yourselves. Prepare to lose.” He turns swiftly, violet robe swishing around his legs. The three counselors disappear into the Palace.

  A charge crackles through the air, we can all feel it.

  A voice booms out over the square: “Long live Woman King Araroa!”

  I could almost swear it was Tui’s.

  “Long live Woman King Araroa!” the crowd repeats back, then it exp
lodes in cheers and whoops.

  Then, we wait.

  The hour passes. Not one of us moves—not man, woman, or bearcat—all of us standing strong and ready.

  As promised, an arrow is let loose from a bow somewhere above us, and I’m immediately jerked into alertness. Just as I register that it’s come from one of the Palace turrets, a shower of arrows is raining down on us.

  “Raven!” Leif is grabbing my arm, pulling me down from the statue. I’ve already got Imogen’s sword in my hand and someone presses a shield into the other. Leif and I both duck behind the large statue, just as an arrow crashes into it; small chips of black marble rain down into my hair.

  Suddenly my ears are pierced with the most terrible sound, like the ground itself is splitting open. I’m disoriented for a full minute, then I realize it’s the bearcats roaring and hissing and snarling in unison.

  I peer around the statue and watch the scene in disbelief. Bearcats toss the Loyalists aside with their huge paws as if the men were toys. The cats have arrows sticking from their fur, but it’s as though the arrows are tiny toothpicks. The bearcats seem not to notice.

  The air rips with vicious snarls, so loud I have to cover my ears. I try to make out what is happening toward the Palace, but the entire scene is a blur of brown, black, orange, and white bearcat fur. There are flashes of violet as the Hunters are literally tossed aside by enormous bearcat paws.

  No more arrows come toward me.

  I emerge from behind the statue and watch. I can’t make out any Loyalists; they appear to have fled in the wake of the bearcats’ attack.

  A bearcat grabs a Hunter right in its teeth; the cat shakes its head, fur glistening in the weak morning sunlight. The cat lets the man go, throwing him against a wall where he lays slumped for a moment. The Hunter shakes his head, then crawls painfully away from the battle.

  It’s only minutes later when quiet once again descends upon the square. The Treasoners and I are still standing, watching, well clear of the bearcats’ attack. Suddenly there’s a zzzzzip sound, right past my ear. An arrow scatters across the stones, just behind me.

  “Raven! Look out!” Leif grabs me, tries to pull me behind the statue again. But I resist. I will not hide.

  “I’ve got this one.” Tui’s voice.

  He’s nocking an arrow, and lets it go. The arrow flies up toward the Palace turret where the shooter is arming himself again.

  Tui’s arrow meets its target, buries itself deep into the man’s shoulder. The shooter spins around, grabs his arm, then falls out of sight. I swing my head toward the other turret; someone’s just shot the other sniper stationed there.

  All is quiet, except for our heavy breathing, as we try to keep up with our thumping heartbeats.

  I look toward the Palace; the bearcats have lined themselves before it, right where the Hunters were lined up before. Many of the Hunters are lying, motionless. Some are crawling away, broken and hurt.

  Cecil stands up on his hind legs and a triumphant roar rips from his throat.

  “The Palace is yours, Our Majesty Raven!”

  A raucous cheer erupts around the square. I climb back atop the marble statue, and raise my sword in the air in victory. The crowd erupts again, even louder this time.

  I climb down from the statue and make my way to the Palace steps. I climb them slowly, steadily, then stop next to Cecil at the top. I turn, taking his paw, then raise it up in the air. “Thanks to our bearcat friends, the Palace—and throne—will soon be ours!”

  Another cheer goes up from the crowd, everyone raising their arms in triumph.

  There is a commotion on the balcony above us. A small voice calls out. “Not so fast!”

  Cecil and I swing our heads up to look.

  Dominic is standing there, flanked by two Hunters.

  The three step aside and I watch as two men wearing thick gloves roll a large gray crucible through the balcony doors. Black steam rolls into the air from the substance bubbling within. Whatever it is, it smells awful. Slightly familiar too, though I can’t place it. The two men turn and go, leaving the crucible sitting in the center of the balcony.

  Behind me, there’s the sound of dozens of arrows being nocked. Cecil’s growl next to me is nearly deafening. I hold my hand out, then swing my head toward them. “Wait! Don’t hurt him … yet. Let’s hear him out.”

  The arrows are lowered, but only slightly.

  I turn back toward Dominic. “I’m glad to see you are here to step down, at last. Unless you have proof you are the true King of Nadir.”

  That’s when I notice the long narrow object the Hunter is holding in his arms; it’s draped in a red velvet cloth.

  My heart starts beating wildly again. I can only hope that isn’t what I think it is.

  “You wanted evidence that I am the rightful King? Well, I’ve got it, right here.” Dominic throws the cloth from the object. My heart leaps into my throat when I see what it is: Fortissima.

  “That sword is mine,” I spit at him. “Only the true rulers of Nadir—the Woman Kings—can wield her. And that includes me.”

  Dominic laughs, a boyish giggle, hardly a kingly one. “That’s where you are mistaken, dear sister. She seems to be in my possession, and in a minute, as you’ll soon see, she’ll be in no one’s.” He waves his hand toward the crucible. Just then I remember where I’ve smelled that before: watching the knife-makers in Greenhollow when I was young. It’s molten gothanor, able to melt nearly any metal.

  I instantly know what Dominic is about to attempt.

  But now it’s my turn to laugh. “You can’t destroy Fortissima! Her power makes her indestructible.”

  “Oh, can’t I? Watch this.” Dominic takes the sword from the Hunter’s arms—my sword—and carries her toward the crucible. I can tell she’s heavy for him; he struggles with the weight of her.

  “NO!” I scream, but there’s nothing I can do from down here. Nothing.

  Dominic pauses before the crucible. Then he slowly lowers the tip of my sword into the boiling gothanor. Beads of sweat break out on his forehead. He lowers the sword farther in.

  Cecil roars.

  But it’s too late.

  Dominic jumps back and hurls Fortissima over the side of the balcony. She clatters onto the stones. He waves his hands in the air for a few seconds to cool them, then points at my sword.

  Or what’s left of her: just the hilt and a few inches of her blade.

  “How … ?” I shake my head. I’d always been told Fortissima couldn’t be destroyed. But here she is … gone. Destroyed.

  He’s grinning down at me exultantly, looking far too much like his father. Especially the pale face, the deep purple shadows under his eyes.

  “You pompous little bastard!” I clench my fists; I’ve never wanted to punch someone before, but that’s all changed now.

  His face only fills with a more gloating look. “Like I said, there’s your proof. Now get out of my kingdom … you’ve nothing left to fight for.” He whirls around and stomps back inside the Palace.

  I can’t move for a very long moment. Then I look down at the ruins of my beautiful sword, Fortissima.

  I pick up what’s left of her, tears spilling from my eyes. I turn my back on the Palace, and walk down the steps.

  “Raven—”

  “Leave me alone. Please.”

  Leif raises his hand, about to put it on my shoulder, but I shrug away. There’s nothing he could possibly do to comfort me now.

  Fortissima is gone. I lost her. Forever.

  Without the sword of Woman Kings, what am I? No one, that’s who. At least here in Nadir. I’m merely Queen Seraphine’s unwanted daughter.

  I’m sitting on a crumbling piece of stone in a concealed corner of the square. The sky has clouded over, darkly, and rain is threatening. The Treasoners are still milling about, although nobody knows what to do next. Especially me.

  None of them seem to notice I’m here; either that or they are simply pretending not to. I
put my head in my hands, focus on taking deep, even breaths. The last thing I want to do is completely lose it. Again.

  But I know this is absurd, thinking only of myself.

  I drop my hands, looking over at Leif sitting beside me. “How is Sedgewick? Is he going to be okay?” One of Cecil’s best cats was badly injured in their fight with the Hunters, suffering deep cuts to one of his front legs and both paws.

  “He’s being tended to,” Leif says softly. “At this point they think he’ll survive just fine, but there’s no telling if he’ll suffer … permanent damage.”

  “What about the others?”

  Leif puts a hand on my knee, squeezes it. “The others are just fine. Most of them have gone out to hunt. Seems they’ve worked up an appetite.” A corner of his mouth turns up and I can’t help but responding in kind.

  I grab his hand, squeezing back. “Will you go and find Imogen for me? We need to discuss what to do from here.”

  Leif picks my hand up, caressing it with both of his, and places a soft kiss on the back of mine. He holds on for a few seconds more before letting go. “I’ll do that, m’lady.”

  “Raven.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You can just call me Raven from now on.”

  “But—”

  “Please, will you send Imogen to see me?”

  Leif nods his head, then stands silently and walks away.

  Tui’s form catches my eye a dozen yards away. I watch him, thinking of calling him over. But I don’t.

  He stops, suddenly, then turns around to look at me. I have no idea how he noticed I was here, but he did.

  He raises his brows in silent question. I tilt my head toward the empty space next to me. He grins, lumbering over.

  He settles down close, then throws a large arm around me, pulling me toward him. This time, I don’t fight it, just allowing myself to sink into my old friend’s warm bulk.

  “We may as well go home, Tui.”