Chapter 22

22

He who least wants to unleash scorpions on his enemies should be given a jar of them.

~ Sandsteader proverb

Kaylina dreamed as she slept. Or was it a vision?

In it, Vlerion stood atop a watchtower in the mountains. It wasn’t the same as the one Kaylina had visited—where she’d been kidnapped by Kar’ruk—but it was a similar stone building, giving a view of the surrounding mountains and trails through them. Instead of guarding a pass, this one jutted up atop a cliff, overlooking snow-crusted ledges and a great drop-off. Vlerion had climbed all the way to the crenelated roof to look out.

Or… was he looking out?

Wind tugged at his clothes, and he gazed toward the long descent below the tower. Moon gods’ revenge, he wasn’t contemplating jumping, was he? To end his life so he couldn’t be a pawn for those who sought the power of the crown? Or was this more about the men he’d killed? That seemed more likely. He wouldn’t shy away from a challenge, even a political one, but he’d implied earlier that the beast—that he —should be put to death because he’d killed others.

Fear shot through Kaylina as he stepped closer to the edge, looking thoughtfully down.

No! she cried, hoping he could somehow hear her through the dream and across the miles. I love you, Vlerion.

He knew that already, she reminded herself. And he was still up there, contemplating his own death.

The kingdom needs you, she added, thinking that might affect him more. You swore an oath to protect it. Once we get the curse lifted, that’ll be easier than ever. And I’m closer to achieving that than ever. My father is coming. I’m heading off to meet him, and I’ll learn all that he can teach me. I’ll ask him specifically about lifting your curse. Don’t let a dark mood take away your future. She might have scoffed at the idea that she of all people, she who’d had dark moods her whole life, could advise someone against giving in to one. Don’t let it take away our future. I love you, remember?

Vlerion looked away from the edge and toward her, but he didn’t step back. He merely gazed solemnly in her direction, his blue eyes troubled.

And then the vision faded, replaced by blackness, and then light.

Kaylina jolted awake to someone jostling her shoulder.

“Uhm, Kay?” Frayvar stood over her—she was sprawled on her back on the floor. “Are you sleeping or have you been horribly maimed by that plant? Er, did you put the empty pot on your chest or did it? Do you need me to get Doc Penderbrock? I heard fighting sounds in the alley earlier, so it may not be safe to leave the castle.”

“I’m all right,” she mumbled, pushing away the fog in her mind.

And the memory of that dream. Had it been a dream?

She swallowed, mouth dry. She worried it hadn’t been, especially since she’d fallen asleep trying to use her power to find Vlerion. But she couldn’t believe he would consider suicide, not when he’d said he believed she would figure out how to end the curse. Admittedly, that couldn’t bring back the lives of those he’d killed, but if he could help others going forward, couldn’t he find a way to make amends?

She didn’t know. She wasn’t in his place.

Maybe she should have been more negatively affected by killing Sabor, but, given the circumstances, she didn’t believe she’d been in the wrong. He’d been a power-hungry asshole with delusions of self-importance. And he’d wanted to imprison her for her womb.

She shook her head. It was different, and she knew that. For Vlerion, those had been men—soldiers—who hadn’t done anything wrong, not as far as they knew. Working for Prince Enrikon wasn’t a crime. Even if he was an asshole too.

“My head hurts.” Kaylina sighed.

“You might have hit it when you fell.”

“That must be it,” she murmured.

“ Did you fall?” Frayvar gazed down at her with concern. “You’re on the floor in the middle of the hall.”

“I know. From what I remember, I kind of… collapsed.”

His lips pursed together the same way Grandma’s did when someone suggested a clearly inferior alteration to the Spitting Gull’s menu.

“What time is it?” When Kaylina sat up, something heavy rolled off her stomach and clunked to the floor next to her. The empty pot. “Subtle, sentinel.” She glared up at the hole but picked up the pot as she rose slowly to her feet.

Her headache intensified, pounding behind her eyes. She didn’t know how long she had slept, but it hadn’t been a peaceful sleep.

“A little after noon. I don’t know how long you’ve been up here. I went to pick up groceries for tonight’s service, but there were riots at three of the markets, so I had to flee before getting enough butter and flour. Tonight’s diners may be disappointed.”

“If there are riots, we may not get business tonight.”

“People need mead and delicious racks of lamb even during trying times.”

Kaylina headed down the hallway with him, the pot in her grip. “I’ll hope you’re right. Tonight, I can help?—”

She halted, remembering why the sentinel had originally called her to the tower.

“My father,” she blurted.

Frayvar paused at the top of the stairs. “You can help your father?”

“I, no. I mean, he’s coming. I’m to meet him in the preserve at sunset.”

“He… sent a message?” Frayvar’s brows rose with skepticism.

“Yeah. Through, uhm, the plant.”

Frayvar gazed back the way they’d come. “An interesting postal delivery system.”

“More effective than the real one since Stillguard Castle still doesn’t have a mailbox.” Somehow, she couldn’t imagine a druid posting a letter, even if the place did have a box.

“We should probably remedy that. People from out of town wanting to place orders for mead are currently having to send messengers to us.” Frayvar brightened. “It’s encouraging that they want our beverages enough that they’re willing to do so.”

“Kaylina?” came a woman’s call from the courtyard. Was that Sergeant Zhani? “Are you in the castle?”

“Yes. I’ll be right down!”

Dread swept into Kaylina as she worried what kind of news Zhani might have come to deliver this time. What if her vision of Vlerion…

She swallowed. What if what she’d seen him contemplating had happened?

Sergeant Zhani stood in the courtyard, not presuming to enter the castle again, and her taybarri waited outside the gate. A pang of longing went through Kaylina when she didn’t see Levitke. It had only been a few hours, but she couldn’t help but think Targon’s parting meant Kaylina wouldn’t be invited to continue training—or to continue riding taybarri.

“Is Vlerion okay?” Kaylina asked before Zhani could say anything.

“I… Do you know where he is?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

Kaylina waved for her to speak about whatever had brought her. Not news of Vlerion’s death, at least.

“People are looking for him,” Zhani said. “Spymaster Milnor came into headquarters, cursing his name and demanding to see Captain Targon. Sadly, you weren’t there training, so you couldn’t make an excuse about having to use the latrine and run up to spy on their meeting.”

“That is sad. I do love eavesdropping.”

“Indeed.” Zhani hesitated. “Will you return to training? I saw Targon order Levitke to stay in the stable and wondered… if you were okay.”

Had there been a falling out? That was the question in her eyes.

“I’m not sure. Targon said for me to stay here for a couple of days.” Or indefinitely. Kaylina frowned. “Until we see how things play out with the coronation of the prince. Or whoever.”

Zhani blinked. “Vlerion isn’t planning a coup or to put himself forward, is he? I rode past his rally and heard protestors arguing against the prince, but I didn’t really think…”

“There’s a rally? For Vlerion?”

“Did you see the newspaper article this morning?”

“Oh, yes.”

“He already had supporters throwing his name around—I’m not from here, you know, but I understand his ancestors ruled before the current line. Now, the numbers of those supporters have grown. A lot. And they’re being quite vocal today.” Zhani lowered her voice. “There’s talk that there might be civil war. There was already a standoff between the queen’s forces and a bunch of men the prince brought along, but now that Vlerion might be in the running, things have gotten even dicier. I didn’t think Vlerion had any interest in ruling, but a lot of people believe he’ll be better for their agenda, whether it’s the aristocrats or the commoners. I don’t know what to think. Before you showed up, he was… maybe not a loner, exactly, since he commanded men, but he had the perfect mentality for a ranger, very content being off on his own or with a small group for weeks at a time in the mountains. I can’t imagine him sitting on a throne, patiently listening to long queues of people with proposals and grievances.”

“Maybe he could sit on the back of a taybarri instead of a throne,” Kaylina said, though Vlerion had told her himself that he didn’t want that job. If he did, he would have been attending those rallies and gathering men, not hiding out in the mountains.

Or… atop a tower perched on a cliff overlooking a deadly drop?

She glanced at the sun, wishing she had time to go look for him, but she couldn’t miss her father’s visit, not when he might offer a solution to the curse. If she could go to Vlerion with the answer to his main problem, he would be relieved, and he might forgive himself for the mercenaries’ deaths.

“So he could ride away if the queues got too long and the people too onerous?” Zhani asked.

“Yes. Do you think that would help?”

Zhani shook her head. “No. He’d hate it.”

“Yeah.”

“Although… there is a Sandsteader proverb. He who least wants to unleash scorpions on his enemies should be given a jar of them.”

“Is that like the kingdom saying, he who least wants power should be given as much as he can handle?”

“Yes. But we like to incorporate desert insects and reptiles in our platitudes.” Zhani winked. “Makes them more memorable. Spend your life turning over rocks in search of gold, and you’ll die to a rattlesnake’s bite.”

“You have a lot of venomous things over there, don’t you?”

“It can be a deadly and forbidding place.”

“Should you look wistful and homesick when you say things like that?”

“Probably not.” Zhani smiled, but it faded as she contemplated Kaylina. “There’s a reason I came besides discussing Vlerion’s suitability as a kingdom monarch.”

“Oh?”

“I heard—well, nobody told me, but when I heard about the mercenaries who were killed in the catacombs, I thought… maybe the elixir failed.”

“Actually, I failed to throw it at Vlerion.”

“Throw?” Zhani asked. “He needed to ingest it.”

“Oh, that elixir. I was thinking of the one Sabor used that you got for me.”

“I guess I should have considered that it failed too. For the events in the catacombs to have taken place.”

“The, uh, libido thing seemed to work at first, but it wasn’t quite enough. He got too into… things.” Kaylina blushed.

“The magic that draws you two together may be too much. I’ve heard that blend works very well, so I was comfortable recommending it. At the time, I didn’t quite understand the ramifications of what would happen if he became aroused.”

“Yeah.”

“Now, I regret offering it. I apologize to you and to Vlerion.”

“It’s not your fault. There’s nothing to apologize for. We… made a mistake.”

A taybarri whuffed, and they turned to find Jankarr riding up to the gate. Or maybe he’d been there the whole time and out of view beyond the courtyard wall. Zhani lifted a hand, as if acknowledging that he was waiting.

“Better to get this over with quickly,” Jankarr said, then looked at Kaylina. “Have there been any disturbances in your catacombs? Other than what happened last night at that lake?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“No noises of armies going through?”

“If they passed by, they didn’t come up for mead.”

“Captain Targon is assigning us to look for more mercenaries.” Zhani pointed at herself and Jankarr. “He wants to know how many troops the prince has down there.”

“Because you might have to fight them?” Kaylina realized she didn’t know which side the rangers would take if mother and son ended up battling each other for the right to rule. For that matter, would they stand with Vlerion if he ended up making a claim? Or if, more likely, people tried to make a claim on his behalf?

“The captain didn’t give a reason, but he wants as much intelligence as he can gather. As we can gather.” When Jankarr met Zhani’s gaze, he seemed surprisingly bitter.

Her expression more wry, Zhani told Kaylina, “We’re both suspect right now, so we’re being kept out of headquarters.”

“Suspect?” Kaylina asked.

“Someone noticed when Spymaster Sabor was talking to me about you, and now Targon thinks I might be feeding information to Milnor. I’m not, but I do chat with Jankarr from time to time, and he’s…” Zhani held an open palm toward him.

“Sabor blackmailed me into giving him information.” Jankarr scowled. “He’d been doing it for over a year, threatening to have dire things happen to my family back home if I didn’t snitch on my comrades.”

“Yes, that’s how he recruited spies.” Zhani shook her head. “I never agreed.”

“Unfortunately, I did,” Jankarr said. “I had no choice. I understand why the captain was pissed when he found out, but I wish he would give me another chance. I haven’t talked to Milnor at all. He may not even know I used to report to Sabor.”

Kaylina had already learned about Jankarr being a spy, but she was surprised he was admitting it openly. Maybe he knew it had become widely known among the rangers by now.

“I know Targon’s being careful, since this is an uncertain time, but it’s insulting to be suspect when you’ve proven your loyalty to the rangers numerous times over the years.” Zhani touched her chest and didn’t look at Jankarr.

He winced and avoided Kaylina’s eyes.

“I can imagine.” Kaylina looked toward the sky again. “I need to head out of town. You’re welcome to go into the catacombs through the root cellar here if you want.” Only after she spoke did she remember that the sentinel, despite allowing Vlerion to visit, hadn’t mentioned the rest of the rangers were welcome.

“Is it safe?” Jankarr asked.

“Maybe not, but the pantry is right there.” Kaylina pointed to the wall between the kitchen window and the back door. “If you pass through quickly, vines might not sprout out to strangle you.”

“ Might not,” Zhani said. “Encouraging.”

“It is a cursed castle. I like to be realistic when telling people what to expect. We’re still serving diners outside in the courtyard.”

Jankarr snorted. “There’s a vine-free catacombs entrance at the corner of Aspen and Seventh.”

“No mead on the shelves on the way down though,” Zhani said.

A boom sounded a few blocks away, and someone screamed. Kaylina tensed.

“We’d better check on that on the way to the catacombs,” Zhani said.

Jankarr nodded. “I’m ready.”

Kaylina watched them ride away, disappointed that she couldn’t ask Zhani to accompany her to the preserve. “Maybe it’s just as well.”

The preserve also wasn’t a safe place for rangers. Kaylina would have to go meet her father alone.

Why was that idea terrifying? Because she hoped he would help but dreaded that he wouldn’t? That he wouldn’t like her at all?

She tried to tell herself that it was encouraging that he’d come. At the least, he had to be curious about her.

“I do like being a curiosity,” she murmured.

Kaylina told Frayvar where she was going and asked him to make some honey-water fertilizer for the plant. She didn’t want to delay. That done, she grabbed her sword and gathered food, water, a bottle of mead, and a number of honey-based treats she’d made to accompany the tastings. Gifts for her father, if he would accept them.

When she stepped out the back gate, debating if she could rent a horse for the journey, a familiar sniffing noise came from one side. Levitke padded down the trail toward her, the taybarri’s nostrils twitching, her dark eyes fastening on the treat-filled pack.

“Levitke,” Kaylina blurted, running forward and wrapping her arms around her stout neck. “I thought you were locked up and forbidden from coming back here.”

Her tail swished, and she whuffed.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to take me to meet my druid father in the preserve?”

Levitke whuffed an affirmative.

“You’re a good friend.”

Levitke sniffed the pack.

“A good friend with transparent desires.”

That earned another agreeable whuff. Kaylina took out a couple of cookies, offered them, then climbed onto the taybarri’s back.

Another explosion sounded, this one closer to the harbor. On a nearby street, horse hooves sounded as riders—guards, probably—pounded in that direction.

“We’d better go before you’re missed or the gates are locked and people aren’t allowed to leave the city.” Kaylina patted Levitke’s furred neck.

The next whuff had a concerned note to it. Kaylina hoped that didn’t mean the gate already was locked.