Chapter 37

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Chapter 37

The blue-clad guards brought light with them. Lots of it. Andala shielded her face. The flames of the torches they held burned her eyes like brands. Beside her, Tomas leapt to his feet. She heard Kitt do the same on her other side.

Andala lowered her hand a fraction so she could see. The guards had formed an orderly line along the wide walkway between the two rows of cells, and a lone figure clad in black was weaving through them. Andala stood, but shrank back as he stopped in the centre of the walkway, directly in front of their cell.

‘I think,' Terault said smoothly, projecting his voice so that it echoed off the cold stone walls, ‘it is time you all understood why we are here, and what has been set in motion these past months. I have waited for this opportunity; prepared for it. It has been a long time coming, the restoration of the rightful way of things. But it is time you knew, my fellow citizens of Cielore, that a new god will soon be born to our lands. A new god for a new age.'

A new god? A new age? Andala looked up at the king, but he was staring silently at Terault, motionless.

‘Many of you do not know my story, or how I came to stand before you here today,' Terault continued. ‘But it is important that 273 each one of you understands the legacy that is soon to be restored – even those of you who have not yet seen the light.'

He turned, his eyes passing over each of the cells.

‘There was a time when faith ruled over this land as surely as the sun rose in the east; a time, centuries ago, when Cielore was a stronger, more united land, whole and holy in its worship of the Messenger of Day. And the stewards of that faith were my very ancestors. I am descended from a line of high priests, whose duty it was to tend to the skylark and stoke the flames of faith. But when the first queen of the Meridean line took power, those flames were snuffed out. Our faith was smothered. Our sacred duty, our very identity was stolen from us, all because a jealous queen could not abide the thought that her people bowed to a higher power than her. And the skylark … Well, the skylark disappeared, as you well know. Our goddess vanished, our faith languished, and my family's line of sacred stewards was cast aside, our legacy lost to the cold new era the Meridean heretics so hastily ushered in.'

‘That's a lie, Terault,' came Tomas's voice. He spoke through gritted teeth, eyes shadowed in the bright torchlight.

A smile curved Terault's thin lips. ‘Is it?' was all he said.

Jeers and hisses surged forth from his followers. Tomas clenched the cell bars, but he said nothing more.

Terault continued. ‘These past months, my friends, we have once more felt warmth from the stirring embers of our faith. We saw the skylark returned to us, singing for us once again. Belief was growing stronger, day by day, citizen by citizen. The king was taking steps towards the old way, the right way – steps away from the faithless path his family has trodden for all these years.' His eyes fell upon Tomas again, and Andala shrank back further from the malice that now shone there. ‘Until the skylark refused to sing.' 274

The silence deepened at his words, like the hush over mourners at a funeral.

‘Never before has such a thing occurred. Never before has our goddess, the one to whom we should turn each day for light and guidance, turned away from us herself. It is an anomaly. A blasphemy. A dereliction of her duty and a corruption of the power she is blessed to wield. How far our fair goddess has fallen … How far she has strayed from the light.'

Even in the iron grip of fear, Andala felt a surge of fury at the way he spoke about Oriane. She tensed, teeth clenching.

‘It is a great shame, my friends,' Terault went on, ‘to have lost our skylark so soon after we found her again. But lost her we have. She is no longer the goddess we once followed and served, which is why we gathered here and rose tonight – to seize the skylark, and take her heart, and bring a new god forth.'

A chorus of gasps bounced off the dungeon walls. Andala's blood chilled in her veins. Take her heart. What did he plan to do with Oriane's heart? What did he mean by a new god ?

She did not have to wait long to find out.

‘That heart,' Terault continued, voice resonant with conviction, ‘is the source of the skylark's power. It is wasted in her while she does not use it. But if someone else were to take it – to consume it, become one with it … That person could take on the power of the lark, and the duty bound to it. And I, my friends, bolstered by the legacy of my ancestry and the faith that runs strong in my blood, have the strength to take on such power, and the conviction to serve you all as the skylark should.'

An eruption of sound. The blue-robed people were celebrating. They believed him. They believed he could do this – that he could consume Oriane's heart and … Andala's thoughts whirled away in a 275 spiral of sickness, of panic. And to her horror, as she looked around at the others in the cells, she saw that some of them were murmuring together. Nodding. Looking at Terault not with fear, but curiosity. Looking at Tomas with wariness, distrust.

Andala's limbs went numb. The seneschal was turning them. They were starting to believe his lies—

Terault raised his hand for silence.

‘But as you know, the king and his retainers have conspired against us. They have taken the skylark and hidden her away. Rest assured, my friends, we will find her. And when we do—'

‘This has gone on long enough,' Tomas interrupted loudly. ‘Let us out of here, Terault. Let's you and I discuss this face-to-face, like honest men.'

Terault turned to face him. In the blazing light, his face was expressionless, masklike. ‘I'm afraid that was not the bargain, my king. No, the deal was this: one hour to think about your options. One hour to decide whether to reveal the skylark's location to me, or whether to doom the first of your people to death.'

‘Do you really think I would do that, Terault?' The king's voice had a slight, almost undetectable waver to it now. Andala hoped Terault would not notice. ‘Do you think I would watch my people die one by one to protect a secret that I have no real way of keeping from you? No. I would not. The reason I do not tell you where she is, is because I do not know. '

Terault opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by movement in the cell beside Andala, Tomas and Kitt's. The man who stepped forward was one Andala did not recognise. His jaw was clenched, his face lit with fear.

‘The king may not know where the lark is, my lord,' the man said. ‘But he does.' 276

And he pointed a shaking finger directly at Kitt.

Andala's heart seemed to plummet through the stone floor. He had heard. This man had heard everything she and Kitt had told Tomas. She turned to Kitt, so quickly that her vision burst with stars. His expression remained remarkably calm, but Andala knew him well enough to see the fear that flickered in his dark eyes.

‘I heard them talking, just before,' the man went on. ‘I heard him say he was the one who took the skylark. He put her somewhere safe, he said. Somewhere in the woods.'

‘Somewhere in the woods.' A smile was growing on Terault's face like a poisonous weed. ‘Is that so, Kittrick? Was it you who stole our skysinger away?'

‘No,' said Tomas quickly. ‘This man is lying, Terault. None of us know where the skylark is, least of all Kitt.' The waver in his voice was more pronounced this time. They all heard it.

‘Seize the inventor,' Terault instructed.

The blue-robed guards sprang to action at once. Half of them made their way into the cell, shoving Andala and Tomas aside to get to Kitt. The others crowded outside, ready to fend off any attempts at escape.

Andala gripped the bars that separated their cell from the next, barely able to hold herself upright. All she could do was stare at him in horror as the guards seized him roughly and began to drag him from the cell. He looked back at her once, and shook his head slightly. Don't worry, the gesture seemed to say. I'll be fine. But it was at odds with the look in his eyes. They said something different. They called to Andala for help.

The noise had risen to fever pitch. Andala's ears were ringing. She had to do something . They would hurt Kitt, torture him until he gave them what they wanted. And when he did – when they found Oriane— 277

Andala could not let that happen. The king could not let that happen. She looked desperately to Tomas, but he was frozen, speechless. Together, they stared as Kitt was dragged by two guards before the seneschal.

No . They couldn't take him away. If Andala let them do that, she would never see him again. Oriane would die, too. It would be her fault, her fault once more—

‘Lord Seneschal!' she shouted, as loudly as she could, before she knew what she was doing.

Beside her, Tomas jolted in surprise. The volume of her own voice made her dizzy. She almost fell. She willed herself to stay standing.

Terault turned, raising a single hand. The group stopped as one at his command.

‘What is it, girl?' he asked, impatient.

Andala clenched her fists. Was she really going to do this?

Yes , she thought. This is why I came back here. This is still the way I make things right.

‘It's me you want.' Her voice carried through the dungeon. ‘Not him. Not even the skylark.'

Terault scoffed. ‘Why in the skies would I—'

‘Because I am the nightingale.'

Had she ever said those words out loud before? All together in a row like that? She'd always avoided even saying the name. Nightingale . It had left a bad taste in her mouth from the moment it had first described her. But now it felt right, somehow. As if it suddenly fit her, now that it was about to be her downfall.

Andala's head was spinning again. The room seemed very dark around the edges, but directly before her, very bright. Terault was staring at her. She could not read the look in his eyes.

‘What did you say, girl?' he finally asked. The wave of whispers that had been rushing around the dungeon crashed, then ceased. 278

Andala took a breath. Imagined steel in her bones to hold her tall and strong. ‘I said I am the nightingale, my lord. You seek the skylark. You say she is a god. If that is true, then so am I. And if it is the heart of a god you want, why waste time trying to find hers, when mine is right here?'

‘Andala,' Kitt called, straining against his captors to look at her. ‘What are you doing? She's injured,' he added, turning in Terault's direction. ‘She's had a blow to the head, she doesn't know what she's saying—'

Andala was calm. ‘I know perfectly well what I am saying.'

Terault did not pay Kitt any heed. He gave Andala a sharp, searching look. Then he inclined his head towards her. ‘Prove it.'

Of course. She should have known it would come to this. Why should Terault believe her? Why should anybody?

It was all very well for her to tell them what she was. But to show them would require control over the power. Control she had never had.

She looked from Terault to Kitt, who was staring at her in fear and disbelief. If he, her closest friend, did not believe her, then who would? Did they all think her mad?

‘I thought as much.' Terault's voice was deadly quiet. ‘If anybody else wishes to waste my time,' he added, casting a glance around the cells, ‘I invite you to do so now.'

The room was still. Beside her, she felt the king's hand twitch, then fall still.

Satisfied, Terault gave a nod, and turned to go – but then he stopped. Straightened.

‘Wait,' he said suddenly.

His pale eyes flitted over Andala and sought Tomas between the bars. There was a spark in them now, an inhuman gleam that grated shivers down Andala's spine. 279

‘I gave you an hour to provide me with the skylark's location, Tomas,' Terault said. ‘I made the penalty for failing to do so quite clear. And you have failed to do so. The fact that your inventor here might know something does not change that. And so, I'm afraid, I am going to have to keep my word. I always do, you see.'

A shine of silver at his side. Andala realised suddenly, horribly, that Terault had withdrawn his dagger.

‘One of your people needs to pay for your mistake.'

There was a beat, and then every person crammed into the cells began to scramble backwards, over each other, out of the way. Everyone except Andala and Tomas.

‘Oh, don't worry,' Terault called, raising his voice over the noise. ‘It won't be any of you.'

Andala's nails cut into her palms. Was this it? Terault did not believe she was the nightingale, but would he cut her heart out anyway, just because he could?

But he was not looking at her. His razor gaze was still on the king. ‘Your sister is a sweet girl, Tomas. It is a shame she could not have been queen.' The knife in his hand flashed, a threat, a promise. ‘It is a shame she has to pay the price for your mistakes.'

Hana. He meant to hurt Hana.

There was a terrible, anguished cry. Tomas had thrown himself at the bars separating him from Terault. Panic erupted in the dungeon once more. Andala's knees gave way under her. She grabbed desperately at the bars to heave herself up.

People were shouting, crying. ‘ No ,' Tomas was screaming. ‘Terault, NO—'

Through a white haze of pain, Andala thought of Hana, whose mind was mired in such darkness that she had given up her throne. Whose brother had tried so desperately to help her. She thought of 280 Kitt, who would surely die as well if he did not give up Oriane – and he would not. He would resist for as long as he could.

Andala thought of Oriane, too. The other half of her. The bright sun to her black night.

No. Terault could not have Oriane's heart.

It would stay here with Andala's, where it belonged.

She wrenched herself to her feet. The pain in her head was gone. She felt light, free. In control. Sure.

‘Lord Seneschal,' she shouted over the din. Her voice echoed, filling the corners of the awful dungeon, taking the pockets of darkness and making them darker, as if to help the light burn all the brighter.

Terault's eyes found hers in the chaos.

And Andala transformed.