Chapter 41

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Chapter 41

‘He will have started sending scouts already. Messengers. Search parties.'

As they tore back down the hill towards the village, Oriane forced herself to focus, to listen to what Kitt was telling them.

‘We managed to get everyone out of the dungeons while Terault and his lackeys were after you, Andala. The return of the sun helped – thank you for that, Oriane. It distracted Terault's followers enough for Tomas's men to overpower them, finally.'

She tried her best to return his kind smile.

‘The first thing Tomas did was send for additional aid from the city.' Kitt paused. ‘It was a logical move, but perhaps … perhaps a little too quick. I don't think he stopped to consider how far Terault's influence had reached.'

Oriane's stomach dropped.

‘What happened?' Andala asked sharply.

‘The soldiers from Aubrille came up to the palace to help us keep Terault and his followers secure. But … there were fanatics among them. Tomas blames himself for that. He's here, by the way,' Kitt added. ‘He and Hana. We left together. They're hidden away in a room at the inn, to avoid any undue attention.'

Oriane was relieved to hear that Hana was all right – for Kitt's sake, if nothing else. But if she were honest, she could not find it 314 within her to say the same for the king. He was still the man who had caged her, who had sent soldiers to her home.

Her father's blood was on her own hands. Oriane knew that. But Tomas's were stained red as well, and she would not forget it.

‘But that wasn't really when the tide of things turned,' Kitt was saying. ‘Some of Tomas's men who'd turned traitor had hidden themselves in plain sight again, when it all started to go wrong for them. In all the confusion, they'd gone back to pretending they were royal guards, started helping to round up their own. But then, when so many of their fellows arrived from the city … It seemed to renew them. So they tried something different.' Another pause. ‘They got hold of Hana, held a blade to her throat, told Tomas they'd kill her unless he surrendered and gave Terault whatever he wanted.'

Andala let out a curse.

‘But she's all right?' Oriane pressed. ‘She's here?'

‘She's the reason we're all here,' Kitt said. Pride coloured his voice, and a little awe. ‘Hana got us out of there. Caused an almighty distraction that gave us a chance to escape.'

‘ How? ' Andala asked.

‘I …' The heat of Kitt's blush was almost radiating from him. ‘Well, a while ago, I told her about what we'd done to help you escape, Oriane – the device I rigged up to blow that window in the hall. I know I probably shouldn't have. But Hana swore she'd never tell Tomas. Anyway – as soon as she got free of her chambers after we'd taken back the palace, she went to my rooms and found the remainder of the explosive agent I'd used. She hid the packet in her sleeve, just in case it came in handy – and it came in handy, all right. As soon as they grabbed her and started threatening Tomas, she started fighting like a wild thing. And the moment she got free of their hold, she threw that packet down and blasted half the hall to hell.' 315

Oriane marvelled internally at Hana's daring. She glanced to the side; Kitt wore a grin that lit up his face in the deepening twilight.

‘It caused absolute mayhem. The three of us managed to slip away without anyone following. Tomas thinks he should have stayed, but they would surely have killed him. Nobody but Terault's followers would really have been safe there after that.' Kitt's voice tightened. ‘The palace is his now.'

At last, they reached the edge of the woods. The buildings of Fenbrook glowed brightly at the end of the path that led back to the village. They walked as quickly as they could without drawing undue attention, passing the handful of villagers still celebrating outside. Oriane averted her eyes. Just a few weeks ago she might have wanted to meet them, join them. But if they knew who she was, that it was she who'd taken their light away for so long … they would despise her, possibly even fear her.

She wondered distantly, hollowly, how it had all come to this.

‘Where are the king and Hana?' Andala murmured to Kitt beside her.

‘The man you escaped with – I asked him if he could find them a quiet room, somewhere they wouldn't be seen or recognised. He seemed trustworthy.'

‘He is.'

Kitt glanced at her sidelong. ‘Is he—'

‘I'll explain later,' Andala said tightly. ‘Come on—'

‘That's a pretty dress, love!'

Kitt stumbled as a swaying man pushed past him. A tankard of ale spilled over in one loose hand as he made a beeline for Oriane, eyes focused vaguely on her half-ruined golden gown. She stepped back uncertainly.

‘You celebratin' the sun, too?' he slurred. ‘You got the right look—' 316

‘Step back from her, Gabe,' Andala said loudly, suddenly appearing between Oriane and the drunken stranger. ‘It's rude to get that close to somebody you don't know.'

The man – Gabe – stopped short, more ale slopping from his mug. He squinted at Andala, clearly trying to place her. Then his eyes widened. ‘ Andala? That you?'

Andala waved a sardonic hand, though Oriane could see the other was clenched in a fist at her side. ‘It's me,' she said evenly. ‘Though I'm surprised you can see anything through that haze of drink you've got around you. Back on the bottle again?'

To Oriane's surprise, the man looked chastised immediately, a wash of guilt sobering his expression. ‘Only tonight, love, I promise it is. Only for the celebration—'

‘Good,' Andala cut across. ‘Then Gandry will be pleased to have you home now that you're done celebrating, won't he?'

Gabe nodded. He was clearly making a valiant effort to stay upright. ‘I'll go right now. And I'll tell him you're here! He's missed you, love, we both have. I'll tell him you said hello.' He set down the tankard with great care on the path beside him, waved, then staggered off towards the houses at the far end of the village.

Oriane saw the steel in Andala's eyes soften as she watched him go. ‘Please do,' she murmured, even though he couldn't have heard.

‘Andala—' Kitt began.

‘Let's get inside,' she said, turning resolutely back towards the inn. ‘You were right, Kitt. We need to run. But first we need to figure out where to go.'

317 The Book and Bottle was a hive of heat and noise and movement.

Oriane had never been to an inn before, of course. Earlier today, it had been empty, and she had hung back awkwardly by the door, watching as Andala greeted her family. Now, the inn was a whirlwind. People laughed and danced and moved about and talked at the tops of their voices. Glasses and tankards were raised and brought together. Musicians played in one corner; a man held a wooden flute to his lips, just like the one her father had once made.

A fist tightened around Oriane's heart. Where was that flute now? Burned to a pile of ash in the ruins of their home? Blown a thousand miles away as fragments of dust on the wind?

‘Are you all right?' The words should have been impossible to hear above the din of the crowd.

‘I'm fine,' she told Andala, and kept following her through the crowd.

They came to a door tucked away beside the bar. When Andala tried the handle, it appeared to be locked. But she simply braced one hand on the frame and jiggled the handle again. The door sprang open.

Oriane didn't know what she'd expected to find beyond it, but a library had not been high on the list of possibilities.

The raucous noise of the inn faded to a muffled hum as the door closed behind them. The cushioned quiet of the library welcomed them inside, folding around them like a warm, worn coat. Oriane's mouth fell open as she looked around the room. It was nothing like the library at the palace; it was more like the one she'd had at home, writ large. There were shelves upon shelves of well-loved books – three times as many as she and her father had had, the leather of their covers looking twice as soft from years of many different hands. A small group of people were seated at a table in the corner. 318

Andala's family.

Girard – her former husband, the man she'd loved and had a child with – rose to greet them. He was handsome, Oriane thought, though she knew little how to judge such things. Kindness, though – that she could recognise easily. Oriane saw it in the lines of his face and the corners of his bright eyes, in the concern and understanding on his face as he turned to them.

‘Are you all right?' Girard's eyes flicked to Kitt. ‘Are they in danger?'

‘We're fine,' Andala interrupted, before Kitt could respond. ‘But we need your help.'

She strode over to the nearest set of shelves, Kitt and Girard on her heels. Following a half-step behind, Oriane stole a glance at the table.

Andala's mother was watching her. Leilyn , Andala had called her. Not Mother . She had the same raven-black hair as Andala, run through with strands of silver. Leilyn gave Oriane the shadow of a smile, and Oriane endeavoured to return it. Then her gaze flicked inexorably to the small girl beside her.

Amie . Andala's daughter. She was her mother in miniature. Those were Andala's wide-set dark eyes, keen already despite the girl's youth. That was Andala's mouth, too, poised in a curious O as Amie stared right back at Oriane.

‘What are you looking for, anyway?' Kitt's voice broke through her reverie. ‘What do you need books for right now?'

Oriane tore her eyes away. At the bookshelf, Andala was rummaging through the volumes, throwing stacks to the floor to access yet more hidden behind them.

‘I don't need books.' She swiped another handful of tomes aside, seizing a stack of thinner ones that lay behind them. ‘I need maps.' 319

She promptly dropped to the ground, spreading out the map books she'd collected and sitting cross-legged amid the sea of pages.

‘Maps,' Kitt repeated, kneeling beside her.

Andala selected a volume from the pile, seemingly at random. ‘Terault will have already started looking for us. The Order of the Sky could be on their way here right now. We need somewhere to go. Somewhere he can't find us.'

‘Is there such a place?' Oriane asked, trying to keep the tremor of fear from her voice.

‘There might be. Everybody grab a book. Start looking for an island.'

‘An island?'

Oriane and Kitt glanced at one another in confusion. But after a moment, Girard said, ‘You mean—'

‘Yes,' Andala replied, flipping furiously through pages. ‘I ran into Gabe outside. It gave me an idea.'

Understanding passed across Girard's features. ‘You think Gandry might be able to help?'

‘I hope so.'

Oriane was lost, but hesitant to interrupt the quick, familiar flow of their talk. Fortunately, Kitt wasn't.

‘Andala, I'm sorry, but could you explain what in the skies is going on?'

Andala looked up from the map she was currently poring over. ‘I'm sorry. I got carried away. Terault could find us at any moment, and we need to go, and I'm just …'

‘It's all right,' Oriane said. She knew what Andala had been going to say – I'm just afraid – because she felt it too.

Andala nodded. She took a deep breath, in and out, clearly trying to calm herself. ‘There's an island,' she said. ‘Or at least, there's 320 rumoured to be, somewhere off the shores of Cielore. It's said to be the place that our ancestors first came from, Oriane.'

A strange shiver went through Oriane at the words, like a feather brushing down her spine. ‘Our ancestors?'

A nod. ‘The first skylark. The first nightingale.'

‘Where did you learn this?' Oriane breathed, wondering why her father had never mentioned it. Perhaps her mother had not known herself.

When Andala didn't answer, Oriane turned to follow her line of sight to the table where Leilyn sat, half-turned away from them.

‘Where is this island?' Kitt asked.

‘I don't know. Hence the maps.' Andala gestured down at the spread around her; Oriane was no great map-reader, but she could see most of them were nautical in nature, focusing on the coastlines of Cielore and what lay beyond. ‘I knew I'd find some in here. Nell always fancied herself a seafarer.'

‘The man you saw outside – Gabe,' Girard put in, for Oriane and Kitt's benefit. ‘His husband Gandry was a ship's captain, back in the day.'

Andala nodded. ‘If we can find this island – if it exists – I thought we might be able to ask Gandry to take us there. He and Gabe are trustworthy. They'd never ask us why we're going there, or tell another soul that we did.'

Oriane sat back, her vision misting over with foreign images. An island. The place where their ancestors had come from. Where their powers must have first come into being. Her blood seemed to rush faster at the thought of it. Could they really go there? Escape from Terault and return to a piece of their ancestral land?

Girard lowered his voice. ‘Should you not ask your mother if she knows where it is?' 321

‘I suppose,' Andala replied. She looked pained at the thought.

The door suddenly jiggled, and with a rush of sound from the inn beyond, another woman entered the library. She was short and quite old, with rich brown skin, a weathered face and close-cropped white hair.

‘Heard the sun brought a stranger to town,' she said, closing the door behind her.

Andala was already on her feet. ‘Nell,' she said, with one of the warmest smiles Oriane had seen her wear. She strode towards the innkeeper and embraced her.

Oriane stood too, but hung back, not wanting to interrupt the private moment. But no sooner had Nell released Andala than she looked Oriane's way, face alight with curiosity.

‘And who might this fine-dressed lass be?' she asked, striding over to Oriane with her hand outstretched.

‘This is Oriane, Nell,' Andala said. ‘She … she's my friend.'

Oriane took Nell's offered hand; her palm was warm and callused. ‘Thank you for your hospitality. This place is wonderful – I've never been to an inn that had a library before.' She had never been to any inn before, but the innkeeper didn't need to know that.

Nell smiled proudly. ‘Didn't catch the name on the way in, then? The Book and Bottle, that's what we're called. The only establishment in town for thinking and drinking.'

‘The only establishment in town at all,' Andala quipped, before introducing Nell to Kitt. Oriane bit back a smile. As much of an outsider as it made her feel, she liked seeing Andala at ease here, comfortable around the people she'd lived among for so long.

Andala explained to Nell what they were doing there, picking up the thread of whatever tale Girard had told the innkeep while they'd been in the woods – an abridged version of the truth. Nell asked very 322 few questions, though there was a shrewd look on her face that made Oriane think she knew it wasn't the full story. But all she said when Andala was done was, ‘I'll have some food sent in. You all look as if you could use a meal.'

‘I'm tired,' a small voice wailed from the other side of the room. Oriane jumped; she had all but forgotten Amie was here.

Girard grimaced. ‘Actually, Nell, would you mind if we took ours in our rooms? Amie's overtired. The caterwauling she's about to start will drive all your business away if I don't get her to sleep soon.' He looked uncertainly to Andala. ‘Is that—'

‘It's fine,' she said quickly. ‘We'll be all right down here with Kitt to help.'

Nell glanced curiously between them, but didn't comment. ‘Not a worry, not a worry,' she said instead, clapping her hands together. ‘I'll have rooms set up for you and your friends as well, Andala, though I'll be charging you full price, mind – business hasn't been particularly booming, what with the world having come to an end for a moment there.' With a wink, she left the library, Girard and Amie soon following in her wake.

It was only the four of them now: Oriane and Andala and Kitt back at the books, Leilyn hovering near the doorway.

Oriane watched Andala consider her mother, open her mouth, close it. After a moment she said, ‘The island you mentioned … in the story about the first skysingers. Do you know anything else about it?'

Leilyn looked almost surprised that Andala had asked the question. But after a beat she replied, ‘Ile Deiale. That is its name, if the stories passed down are to be believed.' She glanced from Andala to Oriane and back. She didn't ask what they were up to, only added, ‘That's all I know.'

Andala nodded, the motion somewhat stiff. ‘Thank you, Mother.' 323

Leilyn dipped her head in return, then made to leave. She turned back with one hand on the doorknob.

‘It's an honour to meet you, Lady Lark,' she said, giving Oriane a small smile. ‘I'm glad to see you found your way out of the darkness.' Then she was gone.

‘Skies,' Andala muttered, looking annoyed with herself. ‘I didn't even introduce you. I'm sorry, Oriane.'

But Oriane understood, and didn't mind. She simply picked up the nearest map book. ‘Let's start the search.'

The candles burned low as the evening wore on. Nell had brought them a sumptuous spread of food, which they'd devoured immediately; Oriane couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten anything at all. The innkeep had also left them each a pile of freshly laundered clothes, without comment or question. Oriane was grateful. She could not wait to bathe, to scrub the solstice ball and the weeks that had followed from her skin, to cast aside her gold dress and never look at it again.

The three of them scoured every map they could find. The sounds of merriment outside the library door faded from a dull roar to a distant murmur as they pored over page after page. The hours slipped by. And still they found nothing. No trace of Ile Deiale, no mention of its existence in all the dozens of books.

The spark of hope Oriane had felt before dimmed steadily, cooling and hardening into a kernel of fear.

Kitt slipped upstairs after a while, saying that he'd better check on Hana and Tomas. Oriane and Andala kept working. They sat side by side at the table, both exhausted, both unwilling to quit until they'd 324 found what they were seeking. The maps had begun to blur before Oriane's eyes. She dug her fingernails into her leg under the table, trying to force herself to focus on the tangle of lines and shapes.

Just when she thought she might cry from pure exhaustion and ever-mounting fear, Andala spoke.

‘I found it,' she murmured, her voice hoarse in the quiet. ‘I think I found it.'

Oriane sat upright, shifting her chair so she could look over Andala's shoulder. And there it was: a tiny islet off the east coast of Cielore that hadn't been there on any map they'd seen so far.

‘ Ile Deiale is a small islet three miles off Cielore's eastern coastline,' Andala read from a passage below the map. ‘ Little is known of its geography, as it is surrounded by seas so treacherous that no vessel has ever successfully landed ashore. And look here … The isle is believed by some to have been home to ancient gods, who dwelled in great stone castles built upon its rocky surface. '

‘Somewhere nobody can find us,' Oriane murmured. She felt fully awake now. She could not take her eyes off the map, off the little island like a beacon in the black sea. ‘This place certainly sounds like that.'

‘It does, doesn't it?'

‘And it isn't far.' Oriane pointed at the map. There was only a thumb's width between the tiny dot marked Fenbrook and the short stretch of coastline off which the islet lay.

Her excitement faded as she reread the passage, the words and their meaning catching up with her. ‘But …'

‘ Seas so treacherous that no vessel has ever successfully landed ashore ,' Andala repeated quietly.

Oriane sighed. Despair threatened to raise its head again, to unsheathe its claws inside her chest. ‘A dead man's errand, then. We could not risk your friend in asking him to take us by boat.' 325

‘No. No, we couldn't go by sea,' Andala said slowly. ‘But we could fly.' A strange look came over her face: something bittersweet and tinged with fear. ‘I just need to hold my form long enough to cross the water.'

The hope that had been building inside Oriane came crashing down. Andala had said it herself: she could not control her transformations. She'd only done it once and feared she never would again. And even if she waited until nightfall, it sounded as if she could not be sure she would make it across.

‘But you should go.' Andala was facing Oriane now, looking her squarely in the eye. ‘You can control your power. You'll be able to make it. You have to go, Oriane.'

But Oriane was already shaking her head. ‘I will not go without you.'

‘I'll be fine,' Andala said, though she did not sound entirely convinced. ‘I'll figure something out. In the meantime, you need to get yourself to safety. That's the most important thing—'

‘I can't,' Oriane murmured.

Andala made to protest, but Oriane shook her head again, vigorously this time. Pressure was building at her temples, behind her eyes.

‘I won't leave you here. Not now I've found …'

She did not need to finish the sentence. Silence echoed through the little library.

Then slowly, tentatively, a cool hand reached out to fold itself over hers.

‘I will learn,' Andala said. ‘I'll learn to control my transformation, and when I've mastered it, we'll both fly to the island. Together.'

‘Together,' Oriane repeated. She liked the way the word sounded. A smile flickered its way onto her face, echoed on Andala's. 326

Oriane was suddenly aware of the scant space between them, and of Andala's hand on hers. Andala seemed to notice it at the same time. They broke apart, returning to the map, and the little islet that might be their salvation.

The isle is believed by some to have been home to ancient gods, who dwelled in great stone castles built upon its rocky surface.

‘And will we live there ever after, then?' Oriane asked, the casual note in her voice sounding forced even to her. ‘Queens of our own castle?'

‘Not queens.' From the corner of her eye, Oriane saw Andala's mouth quirk upwards as she pointed to a word in the book. ‘Gods.'

‘I thought that was the last thing you wanted to be,' Oriane said, turning back to face her fully.

Andala shrugged. ‘I could learn to live with being a god now, I think.' She turned in her seat too, and when she met Oriane's gaze this time, her dark eyes were lit with something that set Oriane's chest aflame. ‘So long as you will be a god alongside me.'