Glissanda Read online

  “Back to Nuimana?”

  “No. Back to Baldachin. I lost my sword, I was so stupid. The Nuimanians aren’t going to want me any longer. I don’t have any idea what I’m doing anyway …”

  I feel Tui’s body shake with silent laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” I look up to see him running his free hand through his wild black hair.

  “What’s funny is … nothing. There’s nothing funny about this. I’m sorry. It’s just … I want nothing more than to head back to Baldachin with you. We really could do that, what we never dreamed could happen when we first left last year. But I don’t see you living in Baldachin. Not anymore. It’s as if you’ve grown out of the place. It’s too plain for you. Not that you’re fancy now or anything … you are just … regal. That’s the only word I can think of. I guess you could go back to Nuimana with Leif, but, well, I’d miss you terribly. And certainly everyone here would.”

  I’m confused at all his ramblings. Not really sure where he’s going with all this. “Where then? Where do I go?”

  Tui grins down at me warmly. My insides flutter a little at how he’s looking at me. “You stay here, Raven. This is going to be yours. Still.” He motions his arm toward the Palace; it’s just on the other side of the square but it feels as though it’s miles away.

  “That’s nice of you to say, Tui. But without Fortissima, I have no claim to the throne.”

  “Then why was old Araroa so intent on getting rid of you? He didn’t even know the sword existed. And still, you were a threat to his rule. Just by being you.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. That’s because I know Tui is right. I’ve always been the heir to the throne, with or without Fortissima. That hasn’t changed, even with her gone.

  Tui gives me another squeeze with his arm. “See—you can’t deny it.”

  I look up again at his grinning face, his warm brown eyes. I smile back at him. “No, I can’t.”

  “You wanted to see me?”

  I nearly jump at the voice in front of me. But it’s only Imogen, with Leif standing behind her. His eyes are darting back and forth between Tui and me, his brows scrunched up in confusion.

  I feel Tui’s body stiffen. He drops his arm and leans away from me, slightly.

  It’s as if the four of us have turned to stone, just for a moment.

  “Well,” Tui finally says, giving my knee a pat. “I’m going to find something to eat. Starving!” He jumps up and acknowledges Leif with a nod of his head as he goes.

  Imogen coughs. “Raven?”

  I stand up, straightening my rumpled clothes. I start to unbuckle Imogen’s sword belt. “I guess I’ll give this back to you. I’ll need to find another sword of my own, now that Fortissima’s really and truly gone.”

  Imogen doesn’t move. Her eyes glance down at the sword belt in my hand, then back up at my face. “No, you keep her for now. Besides, you’re familiar with her, now that we’ve practiced some.”

  I look down at the simple silver sword, at her brown leather-wrapped grip. I have to admit to myself that I’ve gotten rather fond of her these past few days. Slowly, I wrap the belt back around my waist and begin to re-buckle it.

  “What I really wanted to see you about was what we should do next. What’s the current status?” I ask her.

  “The … King’s Hunters are greatly reduced in number, m’lady. If we wanted to storm the Palace—”

  “No. I won’t take the Palace by force. Not now. Too many have been injured as it is. What about the Loyalists? Are they still hanging around?”

  “Only a few. Many left after … the bearcats … Thank the gods. Still, those left are on all sides of the Palace, along with the Hunters. Guarding the Bastion gates too. Feeling rather smug, no doubt.”

  I snort. “Yes, I bet they are. They believe they’ve won …” My voice trails off, and then I sigh audibly.

  “Shall we retreat, then, m’lady? Clearly the situation has … changed.” Her eyes flick down to her old sword belt.

  “No.” I give the end of the belt strap one final tug to cinch it tight, and stand up straight. It’s as though Tui’s confidence in me has refilled my own. “No, I’m not leaving. I’m still the firstborn daughter of King and Queen Araroa. I’m still the heir to the throne, destined to become Woman King of the Kingdom of Nadir. I’m not leaving.”

  “Very good, m’lady. We’ll continue to stand with you. In fact”—a corner of Imogen’s mouth turns up—“I don’t think my fellow Treasoners would give up if the bearcats dragged them away. They are even more determined to unseat Dominic, especially given what he’s done this morning.”

  I study Imogen’s face for a moment, but all I see there is her unwavering determination to help our cause, more loyal to me than anyone. How could I have doubted her before?

  I return her half-grin with a full one. “Funny you should say that, because I am more determined than ever myself.”

  We regroup throughout that long day, making sure both Treasoner and bearcat wounds have been tended to, and everyone has had something to eat. Several men go to check on the women and children, still in hiding. When they return they report everyone is well, and that they were glad to have the good news that no Treasoners were seriously harmed in this morning’s battle.

  As I expected, one of Dominic’s counselors makes an announcement from the Palace balcony that afternoon.

  “The King hereby declares that, once again, if you do not depart from Crown land by midnight tonight, there will be serious consequences for all of you. And if you are not gone, he will consider it an act of war. He will—”

  “What will he do that he hasn’t tried already?” I yell out. “We’ll take down his weak force again and again. Where is Dominic, anyway? A declaration or acceptance of war can only come from the King himself.”

  The man’s eyes twitch, he adjusts his collar, looking uncomfortable. “King Dominic is not available at the moment. But let me assure you, these are his words that I am passing on.”

  “Then pass on these: I am Raven Araroa. I am Woman King of Nuimana and I am heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Nadir. I hereby declare war on Dominic Araroa, the illegal throne-keeper of Nadir. The only way for Dominic to avoid our further persistence is for him to step down. We will not leave until he does.”

  The crowd around me is buzzing. A number of whooping cheers go up. “Go Raven!” someone shouts.

  “I will pass on your message,” he says, then immediately spins around and starts back inside.

  “I look forward to Dominic’s reply!” I yell as loudly as I can, so he’s sure to hear as he returns to the bowels of the Palace.

  Two days pass without any sign of Dominic responding to my threats. Only a handful of Hunters are standing guard in front of the Palace doors, but I’m sure there’s more inside.

  I check in with people, telling them they are free to go, especially the men with wives and children waiting for them. But none leave. They tell me that we can’t give up now, not when we’re right on the cusp of winning.

  I sure hope they are right about that. But I can’t deny that I feel it too.

  Although I have no idea how that’s going to happen now. All I know is I cannot give up either. I cannot let them down. Not yet.

  It’s just after lunch and Leif and I are walking toward the stables, under the pretense that we’re going to grab a bale of hay for the animals. But really, we just want some quiet time, alone.

  We don’t see anyone, ducking inside a clean stall. For the first time in what feels like forever, it is quiet, except for the soft snuffling of the nearby horses in the stable.

  Leif shuts the stall door behind us and we gaze at each other for a long moment. Then, like waves crashing onto the shore, we rush at each other. I hungrily kiss his mouth, pull his ribbon from his hair, slip my hands into its softness. He does the same to mine, holding my head tightly so I couldn’t back away—not that I’d want to.

  For a few long deli
cious minutes, everything around us disappears. Dominic, the war, everything. It’s just Leif and me again.

  My body lights up like it hasn’t in weeks. Leif’s undone my jacket and his hand is on the skin at the small of my back. Warm and tingly. I moan, pressing myself tighter against him …

  There’s a knock on the stall door. We jump apart, my hand flying up and clutching my chest, as if I could still my thudding heartbeat.

  “May I come in?” A soft voice.

  I close my jacket around my disheveled tunic, then open the door a crack to see the hooded boy standing there. I open the door a bit wider and motion for him to come inside.

  “I don’t have long, m’lady. I just … I just need to tell you something.” His voice is barely more than a whisper. It’s a struggle to comprehend his words, to come back to the reality of the present.

  “Of course, go on.”

  “The Prince is not well, m’lady.”

  “I had suspicions of that. What’s happened to him?”

  “He … he’s been poisoned. Like his father, King Araroa, was.”

  I’m speechless at first; I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

  “How do you know this? Who are you?” I finally say through dry mouth and lips.

  He looks up at me with enormous, honest eyes.

  “Because I’m the one who poisoned him. I poisoned his father too.”

  Chapter 19

  The hooded boy poisoned old King Araroa? And now the Prince too?

  I grab the front of the boy’s robe so roughly that his hood falls back off his head. For the first time, I get a full look at his face, always shadowed by his hood before.

  I gasp.

  He looks exactly like Leif. Or what I imagine Leif looked like when he was a boy.

  His blond hair is tied back, a curl loose on his forehead. His eyes—that I now see are the color of emeralds—are enormous. Terrified.

  I loosen my hand, dropping the blue cloth of his robe. “Who are you? You’re not leaving until you tell me.”

  His eyes flick up to Leif, then back at me.

  “Answer the woman,” Leif says. His voice is harsh, and the boy doesn’t hesitate in his reply.

  “I—I’m Caleb. I’m working for—”

  “Go on,” I say, gently. I don’t want to scare him, not really. I want to get every piece of information out of him that I can.

  “I’m working for Imogen.”

  This time, it’s Leif who grabs the front of the boy’s robe. He violently tugs him close so their faces are nearly touching. “You lie!” He practically spits in the boy’s face.

  The boy shakes his head rapidly. “No! I swear it! There’s something else. I—”

  He pauses. Trembling.

  I place a hand on Leif’s arm. “Leif, let him go. He’s trying to help us.”

  Leif releases the cloth with a fierceness, turns, and stomps to the other end of the stall. He swings back around, breathing heavily. I can tell he’s struggling to keep his anger in check.

  I take a deep breath myself before I continue. “Are you telling us that it was Imogen’s plan to poison the King … and now the Prince?”

  The boy nods his head slowly. “She ordered me to. She told me how to do it, and gave me the poison. It was something undetectable, she said.”

  “And how long have you been … working for Imogen?”

  “Since she sent me here, m’lady.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “When I was a baby, m’lady.”

  I look over at Leif. His green eyes are just as wide as mine no doubt are. He shrugs.

  I return my gaze back to the boy. I study his features, his coloring. It’s then that I know it’s true. “Are you really? Imogen’s child?”

  The boy nods silently.

  I turn my body to address Leif directly. “Have you known about this? All this time? That Imogen would sacrifice her very own son this way? If the Palace finds out he’ll be killed!”

  Leif shakes his head, waving his hands in front of him. “NO! No, I promise you, Raven, I had no idea about any of this. I had no idea that Imogen had ever had a child. I was only a young boy myself when he—when Caleb must have been born. Besides, if I had known, I definitely wouldn’t have kept such knowledge from you. I swear it, Raven, you’ve got to believe me …”

  “I believe you, Leif. But I—” I pause, knowing that I must choose my next words carefully. “But I’ll need to speak with Imogen directly about this.”

  “What are you going to do?” This question comes from Caleb. His voice is small and trembling.

  “I don’t know,” I tell him with all honesty. “But I do know that I can’t allow you to return to the Palace. If they found out …” I don’t even need to finish the sentence. All three of us know what would happen. “Tell me about the Prince. Is his condition dire?”

  Caleb shakes his head. “No, m’lady. Not yet. I was to give him several more doses over the next few days. It’s meant to appear like a regular illness … until it’s too late.”

  “Like old Araroa.”

  “Yes.”

  “The Prince is not to be harmed, any more than he’s already been.”

  The boy nods silently.

  I look at Leif. “Will you find the boy some clothes, make sure this robe is well hidden? I’m going to find Imogen.”

  Leif bows his head. “Yes, m’lady. We’ll find you shortly.”

  I start to leave, but stop as I walk past the boy. I put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Caleb. You’re not in trouble. I know you were just following orders.” He looks up at me with moist eyes. His bottom lip is trembling. “And I’ll make sure Imogen doesn’t punish you, for telling me this.” He nods once, then drops his gaze to the floor.

  I return to the square, practically at a run. Asking around for Imogen’s whereabouts, I’m directed to where she’s running sword drills with some others. She sees me walk up; her eyes flick to me but she doesn’t pause her sparring.

  Not until I walk right into the center of the mock fight.

  “What are you—” she starts.

  “I need to speak with you. Now. Alone.”

  Imogen slowly slides her sword back into its sheath. Forces a smile.

  “Very well. Let’s find a private area.”

  I turn, walking toward a far wall where there’s nobody nearby to hear us.

  When we’re out of earshot, I spin around, my hands flying to my hips.

  Imogen takes a step backward.

  I know this is no time to mince words.

  “I’ve been speaking to Caleb.”

  Imogen’s smile fades instantly.

  “Oh?” She lifts her brows.

  “You know who I’m talking about, don’t you?”

  There is a long pause.

  “I do.” She looks down and studies her folded hands, resting against her front. Her shoulders slump; she seems to have lost several inches in height.

  “Is what he told me true? Is Caleb your son?”

  Imogen looks back up to me, this time with a placating look. “Where do you think all the food has come from all of these months? Who coordinated the deliveries? It was me … and Caleb.”

  “And I appreciate all that, I really do. But tell me—how could you have sent your very own son to work in the Palace? How?”

  Imogen’s lips are pressed together—a straight line. “I did it because I knew that old Araroa’s reign would come to an end. Someone better would come along—although I must admit I’d had no idea it would be someone like you.”

  Her words are thoughtful … but still. I stare at the woman in front of me, wondering how she could have possibly sacrificed her own flesh and blood for … what? The betterment of our kingdom?

  Something clicks into place. I gasp.

  “You—you were the one who convinced Leif to work for Queen Seraphine, to trick me all those months ago, to be captured so she’d have me back. Was it your idea?”

/>   A corner of Imogen’s mouth quirks up. She pulls her shoulders back, rising to her full height. “It was. You were better off here, where we could control you, not loose out in the kingdom where anyone could find you and … do you harm. Although that seemed not to have worked out for Seraphine …”

  “No, it certainly didn’t.” I’m breathing heavily now, through flaring nostrils. The woman standing before me is not who I thought she was. Not by a long shot.

  But what’s past is past.

  “Caleb told me that he’s been administering poison to the Prince. That’s why he looked so awful the other day, and why he’s not been seen since. I assume this is your doing as well?”

  “Of course.” Imogen’s voice drips with self-satisfaction.

  “And old Araroa too?”

  Another nod. “Of course. He may have had years to live, that healthy old goat. We didn’t have that much time to waste. You know this, Raven. Nadir will be far better off without either of them. With you on the throne, we can finally get to work.”

  “We won’t be doing anything.”

  Her face falls. “What do you mean by that?”

  “What I mean is, how can I possibly trust you going forward if you didn’t bother to share such vital information with me? Why wouldn’t you have told me this … there’s no reason other than you knew I wouldn’t approve of murder.”

  She snorts. “Murder! This is war—”

  “No,” I interrupt. “I stand by the word. Dominic may be a brat and he’s certainly got no idea how to rule a kingdom, but to kill him by poisoning? That’s attempted murder. What’s worse is you ordered your very own son to do it!”

  She doesn’t speak for a long moment. Finally: “I disagree.” Her voice is as hard as her eyes, glittering angrily—sharp emeralds. “Caleb has always been glad to do what he does. He considers it an honor, to be working for our cause inside the Palace.”

  “But does he truly understand what’s at stake? I doubt he does, and that’s not fair to him, in any sense. He’s clearly terrified at what he’s being asked to do.”

  “No. He’s proud to have done what he has. He—”