Fall of Thrones and Thorns Read online

  Her eyes snap over to mine, and I’m startled by the degree of sorrow there.

  “Then can you tell me what I should be apologizing for?”

  “You have apologized already,” I say. “It is enough.”

  “But not for the right thing.”

  For a moment, I think that I should tell her she must work that out for herself, but instead, I heave a deep sigh and let my arms fall. “Your blame in this situation lies only with the fact that you kept this from me. From all of us.”

  Her smile drops. “Oh,” she says quietly.

  “You have this terrible habit of keeping essential information from your allies,” I say. “It’s a lesson that you struggle to learn. You were so angry with your…father.” I trip over acknowledging Duke Ardin. She was angry with him, as was I. As am I. If he and Katerine—and King Langdon, of course, one mustn’t forget about him—hadn’t started this cycle, I might very well know myself by a different name. I might be happy and able to be fulfilled by a different set of circumstances.

  But in a way, all of this has shaped who I am today. And I’ll not hold on to anger over that any longer.

  I don’t acknowledge the stumble, continuing on. “You felt betrayed by your father for keeping his—your identity a secret, but you seem determined to repeat his errors. First, you hid it when you were so deprived of your element that you swooned. Then, you kept your silence when you were unable to Throw—which, if I may remind you, I was able to shed some light upon. And then this?”

  I blink my eyes hard and swallow a lump in my throat. “It may have helped me if I’d had some time to prepare for this. That’s all.”

  “I just…” She trails off, turning her head to look away from me. “I couldn’t bear to see the expression on your face. And honestly, Aleta, you’d make a better queen than I would by a large margin. I sort of hoped maybe I’d never have to say it. That you could just…be who you always hoped you’d be.” She looks back at me, and I see a smile tremble onto her lips. “You’re meant for bigger things than vanishing into anonymity. You know?”

  I think of Trycia’s shop and the epiphany I’d recently come to there. I think of Langdon, still plotting on his throne. I think of Tregle and my heart twists over his longing for a normal life.

  But I cannot be that just for him. I can be only who I know how to be.

  And anonymous is not who I know how to be.

  “Who, exactly, is it that mandates I must choose one over the other?” I ask quietly. I take her hand in mine, and she clutches it tightly in response.

  “No more secrets,” she swears fervently. “I need you. I can’t do this without you.”

  I smile and nod. “Then you have me.”

  Twelve

  Caden

  I don’t begrudge Aleta the first visit to Bree’s bedside. Well. Mostly I don’t begrudge her that. Not now that we know that she’s going to be all right.

  My heart spasms. By Egria, she’d felt so small in my arms when we’d freed her from the rubble. So fragile and easily breakable. As we all are. But somehow, especially with Bree, with the way she manages to wield a power I could not dream of, with her quick wit and large personality, I forget sometimes that she is just as mortal as the rest of us.

  When I’d held her to my chest, fingers tightening around her, I’d found myself offering fierce prayers to Kyrene and the Makers. Swearing that I’d do as they asked if they saw her through.

  After all that I’ve seen, it’s safe to say they’ve converted me to a believer.

  When the healer brings us the news that Bree has suffered no irreversible damage, it’s as though my heart goes limp with relief. I let myself sag against the wall as the weight of thousands of possible outcomes that we could be experiencing instead flits from my body. Possibilities I hadn’t allowed myself to fully ruminate upon.

  The others are exchanging hugs and shouts of celebration. Liam claps a hand onto my back in celebration. He turns to receive Meddie after she and Tregle embrace, and she flings herself to cling tightly against him, burying her face in his neck to hide her expression.

  Only Lady Helen stands alone, simply watching us partake in the revelry. A Wielder says a quiet word to her, and she nods as he walks away, catching my eye.

  She has no one to celebrate with. And while it would hardly be appropriate to embrace her, I cannot let that stand. Bree and her aunt looked to have formed a quick bond. She wouldn’t want her to be alone right now. So I make my way to Lady Helen and clap a hand across my chest, executing a quick bow. “Lady Helen,” I say. “It’s a relief to all of us that Bree will recover swiftly.”

  “Indeed,” she says, eyes cool as she regards me warily. The corner of her mouth twitches in a moment of emotion that she attempts to conceal.

  But I am well-acquainted with royalty who believe that showing emotion is a sign of weakness, rather than the strength I know it to be. And thus, it would be hard for me to miss such a tell from her. Especially when her hand drifts lazily to her ear to give it a tug, just as I’ve seen Bree do.

  “We all care very deeply about your niece,” I say.

  “Yes,” she says. “I can see that.” Her eyes move back to the group, where Elena rubs Lilia’s back, soothing her as Lilia wipes away a few errant tears. I make a mental note to speak with her later. She and Bree have hardly had the time to grow close, but it must have seemed as if she would be added to the long list of people that Lilia has lost.

  “My niece holds you in high esteem as well, young prince. She speaks of little else but trying to save your country from her father’s clutches.” Her mouth works as my heart leaps. Bree has not simply been resting and getting to know her aunt. She’s been continuing to wage our war against my father here in Nereidium all along. Only now, it is a battle that she must fight through diplomatic channels. Channels that I know all too well to be notoriously slow-moving and difficult to navigate, most especially for newcomers.

  Suddenly, I am grateful that Lady Helen and not I was there to assist her. What I know about Nereid policy could fill perhaps a page. Lady Helen has books and lifetimes worth of knowledge on the subject.

  Lady Helen continues. “It is…occasionally difficult to hear that she feels such loyalty to the country that kept her from her people all these years.”

  “But not to its king.”

  “But to its future one.” Her response is quick. Her eyes are sharp.

  I swallow.

  “Where do you envision this relationship with my niece will end, Prince Caden?” she asks.

  She is merciless. Heat rises in my cheeks, remembering lips ghosting over mine, hands skimming my chest. But that’s hardly the sort of thing she’s referring to.

  Feelings between members of nobility are seldom a simple matter. And when it is two regents who care for each other, matters are downright complicated. The relationship between Bree and I has grown like a flower struggling to bloom on a vine of horned ivy. It is only easy when we forget our circumstances.

  Lady Helen takes a few steps around me, studying me like a test subject. A particularly interesting specimen of Egrian. I allow her to study. In her place, given her history with my countrymen, I’d likely behave the same way.

  “Lady Helen.” I turn, trying to maintain eye contact with her so that I can impress upon her how much I mean what I say. “I don’t know where the future leads. I don’t know what Bree wants. I don’t think it’s what either of us are focusing on at the moment. We’re determined to stop my father from carrying out his plans for domination. To save Egria—and, indeed, the rest of the world—from his clutches. It is of the utmost importance to me that you know that, should we win—” She raises an eyebrow and I correct myself. “—when we win, Egria will not be what it has been in my father’s hands. We are committed to being allies to the Nereids.”

  She comes to a stop, massaging her temples between two fingers with her eyes closed. “Yes, Prince Caden. My niece has impressed that upon me.”

&n
bsp; I let silence drift down onto us for just a moment. “Your earthquakes are getting worse,” I point out quietly.

  She sighs. “That also has not escaped my notice.” Eyes like Bree’s slice at me, and I hold them steady, not daring to discount the value in allowing her to get the full measure of me. And I, of her.

  Finally, she breaks our gaze, tilting her chin away and sighing. “I will be frank. The governors delay our military action, and I am, in part, to blame for that.”

  I jerk back. This is not the response I hoped she’d give us. She’d given us to understand that she was aligned with our cause. Or at least that Bree could count on her help.

  The weight of my token—of Kyrene’s expectations—seems to grow heavier in my pocket.

  She holds up a hand, belaying my argument. “It is not for lack of support or empathy, Your Highness. Rather, it is for a lack of direction. I’m sure it seems as obvious to you as it does to the rest of us that these quakes are triggered—controlled—by an Earth Elemental. It is the only explanation, given Nereidium’s distinct lack of such phenomena in the past. I’m equally certain that the Elemental must be in your father’s employ. But I don’t know how to find him or to stop him.”

  A soft touch at my shoulder brings my head spinning around to where Tregle stands, expression reluctant—yet somehow determined. He glances off in the direction that Aleta disappeared to see Bree and sighs, looking resigned.

  I think, after Bree’s revelation, that he’d had hoped for a new life here. One where he and Aleta could be together and live simply. One where they wouldn’t be queen and peasant. One where Father couldn’t touch them.

  He lifts his chin, eyes growing firm, face grim. And with that action, it is as if he has bid his dream adieu.

  “I can find him,” he says.

  Thirteen

  Aleta

  By the time I leave Breena’s bedside, my heart is lighter.

  “Caden told me once a long time ago, that it matters who and where we come from,” she’d said as our conversation had carried on. “And I’ve struggled with that for a long time after…well, everything with Da. I think that’s part of why I kept things from you for so long. Every time I thought I had the past figured out and squared away, I was thrown for a new loop. And the thing is, I am curious about my birth parents and Lady Helen. They seem like they were good people, and I’d like to get to know her. But it doesn’t change who I am. And the fact that you’re not from here doesn’t change who you are. Just like Caden having Langdon for a father didn’t destine him from birth to be an evil swine. It doesn’t matter who we come from. It matters who we choose to be.”

  I choose to stand with my friends. To unseat the King of Egria. The world will be a better place without him in it.

  After that? I choose to be happy.

  And Tregle…he makes me happy.

  The rest, I suppose, I can work out later.

  I’d left Breena to rest. “Send Caden in when you have a minute, would you?” she’d asked. But her words were mumbled and already her eyes were closing. I’d patted her hand, promising to do so, but knowing I’d make him wait so as not to disturb her. As I find my way back to the hall, I allow the curtain to flutter closed behind me, but am brought up short by the sight of a huddle. Lady Helen’s brow is furrowed as she questions Tregle, his hands splayed as if asking for her understanding.

  At the sight of his obvious distress, my instincts send me weaving through the bodies before I can think of any other course of action. “What goes on here?” I demand from between Tregle and Medalyn.

  Tregle’s eyes are dismayed as he registers my presence. “You’re here. I’d hoped to speak with you first. I wanted to tell—” he starts, but Medalyn interrupts him with her usual grace and aplomb.

  “No time to walk like you’re afraid of crushing daisies beneath your feet, Tregs,” she says, sweeping her hand to the side as if banishing that idea. She turns to me. “He says he can find the Shaker.”

  Tregle? Find the Shaker?

  My eyes find his, and he nods, looking wholly apologetic. “I should have told you, I know, but—”

  Impossible, I think. But… “To do that,” I work out aloud, “you’d have to…” My eyes widen. “You have Locus abilities of your own?” I demand.

  He turns his gaze to his feet in shame. “I do. I should have told you, I know,” he repeats. “But I…I just worried over how Bree would take it. I’m the reason Lady Katerine found her father and started this whole mess for her in the first place. I understand entirely how upset you must be.”

  He’s wrong, I think, blinking rapidly as my pulse gains speed and strength. I’m not upset. My body fills with a different sort of emotion. One buoyant and frothy and that I’ve hardly had occasion to recognize, given my life in captivity.

  On the contrary, I’m thrilled. Finally, we have some direction. If we take out the Shaker Locus, we’ll be able to stop the quakes. And King Langdon won’t be able to find Nereidium, which will ensure their safety from Ruin’s Reaping.

  And if he’s distracted enough by all of that, we may even be able to save the rest of the world, too.

  A laugh trips out of my mouth and startles everyone. I seize Tregle by his shirt and plant a kiss square on his mouth. “Oh, you beautiful, talented man,” I say when I break away and Tregle catches his breath, looking dazed. The rest of them look at me as though I’ve quite lost my mind. “You’re going to save us all, aren’t you?”

  ~~~

  Days later, Bree has regained her strength.

  All around us, we see signs that the city is taking steps to improve their vulnerabilities to earthquakes. In each of the city-states, we’re told, the majority of the citizens are evacuated to a cleared field where—at the very least—they can prevent roofs from caving in upon their heads and buildings collapsing around them.

  Tregle builds up his own strength, looking trepidatiously at the fire before him.

  “How does it work, precisely?” Liam purses his lips and looks suspiciously at the fire.

  “It’s… It’s been some time,” he says. He eases a breath out between his teeth. “But essentially all it takes is focus to call the vision to the fire. If there’s a fire nearby—and there often is with burning hearths and meals cooking—I can see through it and pull it to the flames for the rest of you to see too.”

  “We used to burn torches outside the pub so the villagers would know we were open and had vacancies,” Bree says quietly. Thoughtfully. “That’s how you found us.” She taps a finger restlessly at her side, cutting her eyes away from Tregle. Caden captures her hand with his, and she gives him a tiny, grateful smile.

  It’s obvious that reliving all of this is hard for her, but to her credit, she no longer seems to hold it against Tregle. It happened. The only choice left to all of us now is to move forward.

  “It is,” he says, watching her carefully, eyes filled with regret. “We saw the name of your pub and it led us straight to you. Listen, Bree, you don’t need to put yourself through this so soon after your accident. Do you need to…?” He motions to the room’s exit, as though suggesting she take a moment to clear her head.

  “No,” she says, shaking her head and blinking her eyes quickly. Holding tears at bay? I think I see their telltale glint, but they disappear just as fast. “And ‘accident,’ Tregle? What a way to reduce my feat of heroism. I shoved Aleta out of the way quite deliberately, thank you very much.” I roll my eyes as she nods, having composed herself with the glint of humor. “Go ahead.”

  “Right,” he says. His pale green eyes close, and the fire surges higher instantly. All of us fall quiet. I dare not even breathe as an image swims to life.

  Trees. By the ether, so many trees. I haven’t seen this many since Breena, Medalyn, Tregle, and I traipsed about the forest in our trek toward Clavins and Nereidium. But those trees had been lush, and the foliage surrounding them, thick. The bark on these trees is white. The branches, stripped bare. A thin coating of
snow covers the ground, which has been split with a chasm.

  And over the snow…vines. Dark and inky black, grasping and thorned as they weave over the ground.

  A chill skitters up my spine. I’ve never seen a Shaker’s gift twisted like this. They’re meant to care for living things, to urge them to bloom.

  But these have been corrupted. Have had the life sucked from them.

  “I don’t understand.” Elena bends closer, squinting at the flames. “Why is there a fire in the midst of the woods? Where are the people who started it? Where’s the Shaker?”

  “It may be that he wandered away,” Caden says, a thoughtful finger at his lips. “Careless, though. Very careless to leave an untended flame in the woods—”

  He’s interrupted by a low moan.

  Tregle’s expression clears as his eyes open. “Must be on the other side,” he mutters, brow furrowed in concentration. A twirl of his fingers spins the image we all stare at.

  There he is.

  The Shaker is bent low before the fire, his Adept hood draped loosely over his brow, obscuring his features. All I am able to discern is his mouth, drawn taut in a pained scowl, but I lean forward, intent on seeing more.

  “I’m surprised your da doesn’t have him holed up in a castle somewhere, where he can keep an eye on him,” Breena says to Caden. Cautiously, she edges closer to the fire, careful not to get too close lest she get singed. Elena, Tregle and I have our noses practically in the flames.

  “No. He wouldn’t,” Caden says quietly. He lowers himself to his knees, eyes intent on the fire. “He’d want to keep his connection with the earth strong. And it must be very strong if he’s able to affect Nereidium to such an extent all the way across the sea.”