101
Rook knew who the scroll was from, and she knew what it would say. The rolled parchment had felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket ever since she had stuffed it in there the night before when the messenger had delivered it. Rook knew she needed to read it, and at least send a reply. However, it made it easy to push off doing so when she still had so many things to check off on her to-do list.
"He's inside?" she asked, reaching the guards outside of a meeting room.
"Yeah."
"Any trouble?" she asked, trying to push Theo's scroll from her mind so she could focus.
"Lots of complaining, but he agreed to talk with you," the younger guard offered. She recognized him as one of her old recruits.
"It helped that we could threaten him with imprisonment," the older guard shrugged. "You're here to talk to him?"
"Yes. Open the door." Rook straightened, trying not to reach for her sword's hilt out of habit. She knew the guards wouldn't have let him keep any obvious weapons on him, but Rook had seen the fortress blacksmith before and had to admit he was intimidating.
The man was standing when she entered, and she had to look up at him. She wished it didn't unnerve her when other people were so much taller than her, and she did her best to appear nonchalant as the door swung closed silently behind her.
The blacksmith fixed her with his strange, silver-pupiled gaze. "If it isn't the new, self-proclaimed Ruler," he sneered.
"Not even close," Rook corrected with an easy smile. She shifted her weight, allowing her hand to go to the hilt now—this way, it could be a warning rather than a show of fear. "Let's get to the point; you seem like someone who hates having your time wasted."
"Like you would care," he pointed out dryly.
"You're name's Byar, right?" she asked. He narrowed his eyes, but when he realized she was waiting for his answer, he nodded once. "So, Byar: about a week ago, there was a plot hatched by Ottan's supporters to assassinate the Ruler, and someone named you as a possible accomplice."
The man immediately bristled. "Did they now?" he hissed. "You'll be hard pressed to prove any such thing, seeing as I haven't done anything of the kind."
"Right before Theodynn became sick, he received a note letting him know that you had been overheard chatting with your good buddy Fazir," Rook explained evenly. For his part, Byar didn't even flinch, but she could see him watching her closely now. She continued, meeting his gaze. "Apparently, Ottan's crew was looking for an inside man, and Fazir came to you because he thought you were the perfect candidate."
Byar just snorted. "You best check your sources, because—"
"This meeting isn't because I'm asking you if the conversation happened or not. Theodynn trusts the word of the messenger far more than he'd ever trust you," Rook pointed out flatly. "So as far as we're concerned, Fazir did talk to you, and he was looking for an inside man. So what we really need to know is whether or not you decided to take him up on it."
Byar's expression darkened, and Rook maintained eye contact. It was dangerous to back people into corners like this, but after all the other interviews she had done the last few days, she was tired of beating around the bush and dealing with people denying what she already knew.
"If your informant was any good, he'd have told you that I have nothing to do with Fazir and told him to get lost the second he showed up," Byar finally muttered.
"You know, he did mention that; he painted you as a very unwilling supporter. But it does lead us to wonder why you didn't come to us yourself and let us know something was up. You knew Fazir and the rest of his crew were up to no good, even if you didn't agree to join them. Why wouldn't you let us know?"
Byar stared at her, and he finally scoffed softly. "You know why." It wasn't the answer she was expecting, but she realized it was a fair point. She tried to think of what else to say, but it seemed that Byar wasn't finished. "What do you want? If your supposed informant told you all this a week ago, you could have locked me up long before now if you really cared that much whether I was seen talking with Fazir."
"Honestly, there wasn't a lot of time," Rook admitted grimly. "We did set up guards to watch you, as I'm sure you noticed."
"Hard to miss a bunch of meddlesome snot-noses in oversized armor staring at me all week," Byar agreed darkly.
"You're lucky that the person who overheard your conversation heard you tell Fazir that you wouldn't help him. It really is the only reason you aren't locked up right now…because we'd like to believe that it means you aren't a threat to Theodynn's safety."
Byar snorted. "Love, if I was a threat…"
"Don't call me that," Rook said coldly. "You can expect to have people checking in with you from here on out…if I don't assign someone to watch you all the time from here on out."
The Blacksmith's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I wouldn't suggest doing that."
"You may not have gotten involved with Fazir's plot, but that doesn't mean that we're convinced you're on our side. The only thing I'm really convinced of is that you make decisions to protect and serve yourself. This time around, you didn't feel like it was worth it to risk your neck for someone as sniveling as Fazir…but that doesn't make me feel confident that you wouldn't take a better deal from someone else, if you felt like you could profit from it."
He didn't seem perturbed. "Sounds like you've been thinking about this a lot," he pointed out with another sneer. "Sorry if this is keeping you up at night—if you'd just leave me alone, you'd find you have one less thing on your plate."
"You're hardly harmless, Byar," Rook pointed out. "After all…the main reason our informant came to us with the information is because he also overheard you and Fazir plotting to string him up like a slab of curing meat."
Byar's brow pinched with confusion, and suddenly, there was a flash of understanding. Rook tried to interpret the flicker of emotion she noticed, but it was snuffed out like a dying ember in a forge moments after she noticed it.
"Where'd the kid end up?" Byar asked. It was Rook's turn to snort in reply.
"He's gone—didn't feel like it was worth it anymore to stick around. I also wouldn't recommend trying to track him down; he's got quite a few friends in high places."
"Lying little runt," Byar muttered, but he didn't seem as angry as Rook would have thought he'd be. She hadn't really meant to oust Theo's young friend as the informant, but she needed to prove to Byar that her claims had legitimacy. He glanced up at Rook and raised an eyebrow. "You promised to get to the point, but I'm struggling to figure out what that is. You just want me to know that you're gonna be watching? You want me to feel intimidated?"
"That's part of it, I guess," Rook agreed as she folded her arms. "But really, I need information."
"What kind of information?"
"Whether you agreed to help him or not, you and Fazir seemed to have some history. I need to know where I can find him."
Byar shrugged. "Beats me. I'm not surprised his little plot fizzled, whatever it was. Now he's scurried off to nurse his wounds…if he wasn't offered up as the reason for the failure."
"Let's say he didn't run, though I agree that's most likely what happened," Rook tried. "Where would he be?"
Byar studied her for a few minutes without saying anything, and she heaved a sigh.
"You're going to hold out? Do you really owe him that loyalty?"
"You're the one bartering wrong, girl," Byar pointed out. Rook felt a stir of relief, though she scowled with irritation. She had known going into this that she was going to have to barter; things were going to plan, at least.
"You plot with someone against the Southern Leader and expect us to give you a break? You want us to pay you for information, after threatening one of Theodynn's friends?"
"I aint after money…but I'm not telling you anything unless it means the snot-nosed guards you have loitering by my forge get lost."
"You tell me one small piece of information, and in return you want me to let you do who knows what in secret? You're not really selling yourself as a non-suspicious person."
"I don't appreciate being watched," Byar snapped. "I don't appreciate people getting in my space. I don't appreciate being dragged into all your bleeding politics. It's just me and my forge and my work, and if anyone wants to get in the way of that no matter the reason, it's not going to end well."
Rook thought about that for a moment. "What other information you got?" she finally asked. He narrowed his eyes, and she shrugged. "Look. You're putting in a big ask. You've got to give me something to make it worth my while."
"Leverage, you mean," Byar corrected, his gaze becoming murderous. "To keep me in line so guards don't have to."
"I'm not going to tell a soul where the information is coming from, so if you're afraid of Ottan's men—"
"I'm only afraid of idiocy, and there's been a whole lot of it lately," Byar growled.
"I need Fazir's location—anywhere that you could see him laying low. You aren't going back to your forge until I have that much. If you want to go back to being unsupervised, then I'd like you to tell me everything you know about Ern and anyone else running Ottan's remaining forces from the background."
Byar frowned. "Ern? I don't even know who that is."
"Too bad," Rook said with a shrug, moving to leave.
Byar sighed heavily. "Hold on, you infuriating woman," he growled. She turned and raised an eyebrow, and he met her gaze angrily. "I don't know Ern. I can tell you a couple spots Fazir used to use, but don't come crying when he isn't there. He's either dead or he's left the south…as stupid as he is, he's not stupid enough to stick around. The only other people I knew in that crew were Torsoh's gang, and from what I hear, they've already been wiped out. Oh, and Laysha, but I'm sure you've had eyes on her the whole time, if you've taken the time to sic guards on your own blacksmith who didn't even do anything."
Rook turned and debated whether to admit that she had no idea who Laysha was. However, her pause seemed to cue him in, and he smirked.
"She slipped out from under you, then? That is surprising. If you don't have that viper under control, then I know who's still calling the shots."
"As far as I'm aware, Ern is calling the shots," Rook pointed out. "Which is why it's imperative we find him."
"Never heard of him—probably just another Torsoh, if I had to guess. Has a gang, carries out dinky little plans…but Laysha's not the type to let anyone overshadow her. Ask Ottan."
Rook had a sinking feeling as she noticed the glint in Byar's eye. "So, they were close? Or enemies?"
Byar snorted. "Both. She was his closest advisor…and she's also his ex."
"Do you happen to know where I could find her?" Rook asked, trying to keep her heart from pounding as she tried to process yet another person who should be on their watch list.
"No idea at all—know of her, but don't know anything about her. I can tell you about Fazir, though…but I need your word that my forge will be guard-free, or you won't get a peep out of me."
Rook studied him crossly, and she finally huffed. "Don't be surprised if the general guard patrols go up. But I suppose if we're patrolling more, we won't need to waste talent on watching you pound metal all day. You have a deal."
Alan winced as the Eastern Leader hit the ground, and he moved to help Pescar up.
"Oh, Ancients," the frazzled leader huffed, allowing Alan to help him back to his feet. "Every time I think I've got it…"
"You've got to be loose during a gallop," Alan offered, glancing over at where the hoofer was pawing the ground. He left the leader to dust himself off as he approached the beast slowly. It was the tamest hoofer Alan could find, but he also knew that even the tamest of hoofers could react badly if they were in a mood. Pescar had named her "Illumination," but even with a proud name, the leader's multiple tumbles from her back had left the hoofer skittish.
Alan reached the hoofer at last, rubbing her neck and murmuring to her to calm her down. As Illumination relaxed, Pescar moved to join Alan. "Let's go again," the leader said, straightening with a determined look in his eye. Alan didn't argue, though he himself was wondering how many times the man would tumble off before calling it quits for the day.
Pescar took a deep breath before grabbing the pommel and hoisting himself into the saddle. He had gotten pretty fluid at it, which was good. Back when they had first started, it had taken days before Alan had managed to get the leader properly situated on the saddle without something happening to knock him off of it.
"Take the reins, but keep them loose," Alan reminded quietly as he handed them to Pescar. The leader nodded, his expression resolute as he pointed his hooked nose into the air. "Start slower, and build your way up," Alan tried, but Pescar had already given Illumination a hard kick followed by a whip of the reigns.
The hoofer bolted, and Alan held his breath as he watched the leader bounce helplessly on the saddle. Though Pescar managed to stay on for a little longer than before, he ultimately ended up in the dirt, and Alan cursed softly as he watched the man faceplant.
"That's gonna leave a mark," he muttered as he hurried to help the leader up again. This time, Pescar waved him off, pushing himself into a seated position rather than standing up. The leader's expression was hard as stone as he glowered at the dirt, and Alan glanced over at where Illumination was shaking her mane.
"Should I put her back in the stable?" Alan finally asked.
"It's embarrassing, isn't it? How poorly I ride." Pescar's usual chipper tone was dull, and Alan glanced back at the leader. Not used to being asked his actual opinion, Alan hesitated, and Pescar fingered his nose tenderly, wincing as he pressed on the bridge. "You know…they say Theodynn was galloping around on a hoofer when he was half a decade old. Can you imagine?"
"Um…" Alan shifted, glancing between the hoofer and the leader.
"He's an impressive sort of person," Pescar pointed out, sounding miserable. "And I suppose the truth is…I am not."
"Hoofer riding isn't really the key to being an impressive person," Alan tried. He held out a hesitant hand again, and this time, Pescar took it and allowed Alan to pull him to his feet.
"Just look at me…this riding coat will have to be retired. Ancients know I've put it through enough," the leader tsked, fingering a tear in the fabric. Then his gaze moved to Alan, and the eastern leader shook his head sadly. "Despite your best efforts, I don't think I'll be able to ride to the leadership meeting tomorrow after all."
"You've been balancing fine at a slower pace," Alan offered awkwardly, not knowing if the leader was wanting validation or resignation. "As long as you don't gallop…"
"Even if I got there, I'll most likely land on my face in the attempt to dismount…in front of everyone."
"I don't think—"
"And they'd all look the other way, I'm sure, but they'd still see it. Theodynn would be the worst—he'd pretend like nothing happened at all. Or worse…give me pointers."
"I give you pointers, and you don't seem to care," Alan tried.
"But I'm paying you," Pescar pointed out with a scowl as he moved toward the fortress. "When Tala first told me that she was retiring, and I would be made leader at last, I was excited to prove my mettle. But then, of course right after I take her place, Theodynn became the Southern Leader. The Heir of the Oni, slayer of demons and assassins and who knows what else—wrangling against the very nature of the most barbaric type of oni imaginable…" he trailed off and sighed. "Basically, no matter what I accomplished in the East, Theo could outshine me by merely surviving a week in the south. And he's done more than merely survive…that's for sure. At this rate, the south is thriving…" Pescar glanced over at where Illumination was grazing at some weeds in the corral. "And I can't even ride a hoofer—a feat he mastered as a child."
"You know…it's not really a competition," Alan pointed out awkwardly. "At least, Theo's never seen it as one."
Pescar merely sighed again. "Which makes him all the more admirable. I am glad that the feud of our predecessors didn't continue with us. The way he ignored me those first few months…I was beginning to think he was trying to keep it going."
Alan didn't say anything, feeling weird about talking about Theo behind his back. Luckily, the eastern leader didn't seem to be waiting for an answer.
"You know what I admire the most about him? He really doesn't seem to feel pressured to follow in the footsteps of those who came before him at all. He certainly is nothing like Ottan, but I must admit, he doesn't even seem like his parents. He's determined to forge his own path. In truth…it's probably what inspired me to forge my own. Ancients only know what Tala would say to me if she got the chance, now that she's seen what I'm doing to her province." He chuckled nervously, glancing over at Alan. "Did you ever know her?"
Alan blinked. "Tala?"
"Yes."
"Uh…I knew of her. I didn't ever leave the south…and she didn't really ever come to visit."
Pescar laughed outright at that. "No, I daresay she didn't. Even when she felt that discussing something with Ottan was necessary, she forced him to come to the East. She wouldn't step foot in the south. And…if I'm being honest…I've never even been myself." He dusted off the lapel of his riding coat. "She was straight-laced. The East is the pinnacle of success it is because of her efforts, and the efforts of the leaders who came before her. I always admired her…but…she was not really one for affirmation." Pescar's expression clouded. "Even now, I hear her reprimanding me, but I try to ignore it. After all, I am the leader now, not her."
Alan just nodded. They were heading toward the fortress, and he turned to where the hoofer was still grazing. "Should I go get—"
"What do people say about me, Alan? Out in the markets, when I'm not around to hear."
Alan froze at the question. He glanced over to see Pescar giving him a severe look, and Alan finally managed a shrug. "I'm afraid no one really wants to discuss Eastern politics with a southerner," he muttered.
Pescar studied him closely. "You're not just trying to spare my feelings, are you?"
Alan shook his head, though he had overheard plenty of things that people had said about Pescar. However, in his lifelong career of eavesdropping, he had learned the dangers that came from sharing everything.
"Well…I wish you could tell me," the leader said at last, deflating a little.
"They seem to rally around you every time you go to the market," Alan pointed out.
"Yes…they do. And I really want to believe it's because they respect me." Pescar shook his head miserably. "But the truth is, where Easterners are concerned, you never really know what they're thinking. There's something refreshing about you southerners, who are willing to say what's on your mind no matter the consequence. The people out in my realm could hate me, and I'd never really know it."
Alan was quiet, considering Pescar's words. He felt a little guilty because he had honestly thought as much himself about the East, but always thought that Pescar was completely unaware of how superficial many of the Easterners were toward the leader. It was good that he knew, or at least, was aware of the possibility.
"Do you think I should get a new hoofer?"
Alan blinked at the change of subject, realizing that Pescar had turned and was frowning at Illumination. The hoofer seemed completely unfazed by his irritated look, and Alan glanced between them.
"I…don't know that it would change anything."
Pescar harrumphed. "So…you're saying the problem most assuredly lies with me, and not the hoofer?"
"I just think it's easier to keep working with a hoofer who is familiar with you than trying to start over," Alan tried.
Pescar exhaled slowly out of his nose. "Then maybe I just need to see you do it, if you don't think the hoofer is the problem."
Alan immediately felt stuck. If he succeeded, he wasn't sure how Pescar would take it, because it would just be another piece of evidence of his own failings. However, if Alan fudged the ride and toppled off as well, Illumination would get the blame.
"Show me how you would ride her," Pescar ordered, and Alan tugged at the scarf around his head before heading over to the hoofer. He pulled himself up into the saddle, and Illumination gave him a sidelong look. Are you going to go flying off of me every five minutes, too? She seemed to say.
"It's easiest to start at a walk," Alan called as he demonstrated, kicking the hoofer just hard enough to get her moving. She began to circle the corral, and Alan continued. "Maybe our problem is trying to gallop in a closed space. It's easier in an open one. But if you want to gallop, you give the signal…" he kicked and whipped the reins simultaneously, "…and you loosen up so you can move with the hoofer."
Illumination galloped around the corral, and Alan's body fell in time with her naturally. He wasn't sure if just watching him do it was going to help Pescar at all—this kind of rhythm was something you had to feel, rather than just watch or hear about. Until the moment Pescar could finally feel it, he was going to continue to bounce around like a sack of tubers.
After a few minutes, Alan drew back on the reins and slowed Illumination to a walk, and eventually stopped her all together. He slid off her back, trying to figure out what Pescar was thinking as the Eastern leader watched him again.
"I'm going to ride her tomorrow," the leader said at last. Alan blinked, but Pescar continued without letting him say anything in return. "I'll just keep it slow. I'll leave early in the morning with my entourage, and we'll make it there before the meeting."
Alan gathered Illumination's lead rope so he could take her back to the stable, but he glanced at the leader as he passed. "Theo should be at the meeting, right?"
Pescar blinked at the question. "He's supposed to be. Do you know of a reason he wouldn't be?"
"No." Alan shrugged, breaking eye contact. "I just haven't seen him for a bit. Will…you let me know how he is?"
The leader frowned at the question. "If you'd like to see him, you're free to accompany me," Pescar finally offered.
Alan broke out in a cold sweat thinking about going to the central fortress. "Uh…no, I've got a lot to catch up on. I'm…um…" he trailed off, and he waited for Pescar to press the issue. Surprisingly, the leader just shrugged.
"Very well. I'll let you know how he is during our next lesson."
Alan nodded, sagging in relief as he moved to stable the hoofer at last.
102
"I'm sorry, we haven't received anything from the southern fortress," the head of messengers offered awkwardly. Theo sagged in disappointment, but part of him wasn't that surprised.
"You'll send the message to me directly if you receive it, right?" he asked.
"Of course," the man insisted, bowing.
"All right. Thanks for your time." Theo sagged as he moved toward the stairs that would take him out of the messenger wing and back to the main level of the central fortress. He was so wrapped in his thoughts he didn't notice his mother until he had nearly run into her.
"Are you all right?" Keyda asked, studying him with a frown. He glanced up and flashed her a smile.
"I'm feeling fine."
She frowned, not looking like she believed it, but then she glanced down the hall. "Are you planning on coming to the quarterly meeting today? If you don't feel up to it—"
"Ancients, forgot that was today. I can be there," Theo agreed.
"Are you sure?" Keyda asked. His smile faded.
"I'm not so fragile that I can't go to a meeting," he reminded.
Keyda sighed. "I'm not saying you're fragile. I'm just saying that a lot has happened in the last week, and if you wanted to take a rain check, we could fill everyone in."
"I can fill them in myself," he insisted. "At some point, I have to show that I don't rely on you guys to do everything for me when the going gets tough."
Keyda's expression clouded, and he moved to go past her. His mother sighed and then called out. "Theo, I'm sorry if it made you angry when we insisted you come here to heal, but—"
"I'm not angry, Mom." He turned to fix her with a long look. "I'm just tired of falling backwards every time I think I finally have forward momentum."
"You were poisoned; that isn't falling backwards. That's just…something that happened that we had to address."
"It feels like losing ground," Theo insisted dryly. "And besides; I'm not the one who's angry."
She frowned, moving closer to him. "What do you mean?"
"I get that I probably should have reached out to you sooner…but I also can't keep you informed every time something bad happens. If it's going to make you guys so angry every time you find out that something was going on you weren't immediately aware of…"
"You were poisoned," Keyda cut in, her brow furrowing. "Theo, this wasn't us overreacting about 'something bad.' This was us realizing you were once again on death's door and nobody had bothered telling us—"
"Because the second anything happens, you treat it like it's the end of the world!" Theo argued. "I'm sorry I didn't send word, but sometimes you guys can't be the heroes. Sometimes we have to figure stuff out ourselves."
Keyda's eyes flashed, her expression crumpling with hurt. "Do you really think we came to south because of some heroic complex?"
"That's not what I—"
"We were told that you were critically ill—did you want us to just ignore that and hope for the best? Would you have, in our place?"
Theo winced. "No," he admitted. "But tell me the truth; were you guys even the ones who solved the problem, in the end?"
Silence fell, and Keyda seemed to be at war with herself. Theo wished he could keep walking, but he knew his mother probably wasn't finished. At last, the Ruler spoke up.
"The only thing that matters is that you pulled through," she said at last. "And I'm grateful that you did. But had we been told sooner, we could have helped sooner."
"I would have gotten better, whether you guys had come or not," Theo pointed out. It was unfair, he knew, because he could imagine how worried they had been in the meantime. But he couldn't help but point it out just the same.
"Haiven asked us to come," Keyda replied defensively. "She was the one who said that we needed to get involved, who said that you had been poisoned—"
"Haiven told you?" Theo cut in, frowning in surprise. He had known someone had gone for his parents—obviously they had been contacted, since they showed up at his bedside. However, he had just assumed it was Mahlyn or some other guard, reaching the point where they felt like loyalty to the Rulership required telling Cole and Keyda what was going on.
"She sent a letter," Keyda confirmed, though something about her demeanor became guarded. "And what she said was more than enough to make us worry."
"What did she say?" Theo asked, his heart starting to sink.
"It doesn't matter," Keyda insisted. "The point is, it's not like we were spying on you and came swooping in because we didn't think you could handle things. We were told there were red flags and we came to help. And then we brought you back here to recover because Iona told us that you needed clean air and a stable environment, because in your weakened state, any little threat could have proven life-threatening."
Theo scowled, but he couldn't really argue with his parent's decision. He had been seriously ill, whether he wanted to dwell on that fact or not. Even as much as he insisted that he was fine to everyone who asked, he still felt weak and sluggish. He knew it would take time to fully recover, and that the recovery would realistically be faster here where he could rest than in the south, where he would have to juggle everything else going on at the same time.
Thinking of the south made him think about the letter he had sent, and the fact that no letter had come in return. "I don't blame you guys for bringing me back here," he finally said. "What I don't appreciate is you coming to the south and immediately assuming Rook was the one to blame for the entire thing."
Keyda's expression became guarded. "I know that you think that she cares about you, Theo—"
"I don't want to hear it," Theo snapped. "If you had seen everything she's been doing for the past year to help the south, you wouldn't sit around questioning her motives."
"After everything I've been told about what happened during the week you were sick, I feel like I have the right to be worried," Keyda replied.
"Everything you've been told? By who? What have you been told?" Theo demanded.
"I can't trust her after what she did to you," Keyda conceded. "And I know that you want me to…but I can't. And all of this just makes it that much harder."
Theo was fuming now. He had honestly just thought his parents had jumped to the conclusion that Rook was to blame because of their own bias, but it was beginning to sound like more people were against her than he realized. "I'm not asking you to trust her," he finally snapped. "I'm asking you to trust me…and to at least not treat her like she's some kind of monster."
"Theo—"
"If anything, I would have thought you could relate to her," he continued, his voice gaining strength as his heart pounded. "It's not like you're unfamiliar with a life under someone else's thumb, being forced to do things you don't agree with in order to survive. I mean, Ancient's, Mom…you hate her because she targeted me, but didn't you do the same thing to Dad?"
The blood drained out of Keyda's face, and Theo winced internally, knowing that he probably should have kept most of that to himself. For a moment, the Ruler just stared at him while he waited for her reply, but it never came. A familiar voice called out and interrupted their conversation. "Leader Theodynn! Just who I was looking for!"
Theo closed his eyes and resisted the urge to snap at the Eastern Leader as he came down the hall. As Pescar reached them, his grin faded as he caught sight of a rigid Keyda.
"Oh….and your Rulerness. I apologize, I didn't see you there," he offered, pausing so he could bow low. Keyda looked as irritated as Theo felt, and the eastern leader finally seemed to pick up on it. "Am…I interrupting something?"
"Yes," Keyda said coldly, just as Theo said "No." Mother and son glanced at each other as Pescar looked helplessly between them, and Theo continued. "I was just on my way to the meeting."
"Yes, well…it does start soon, doesn't it?" Pescar offered awkwardly.
"I'll see you there, Mom," Theo said, making it clear that he was done talking about all of this for now. Keyda didn't seem pleased, but surprisingly, she didn't argue. The Heir turned and headed for the meeting room, and Pescar quickly followed suit.
"Have I done something wrong?" the Eastern leader asked quietly as they grew further away from the leader. Theo glanced at him, surprised that Pescar would ask. Usually, the eastern leader acted like he never did anything wrong, and that even his mistakes were done on purpose for reasons he just hadn't explained.
"You're fine," Theo finally offered.
"Oh, good. Just the look on her face…" Pescar shuddered a little, but then he was turning to Theo with a grin. "I am excited to hear all about your most current exploits in the south. I am sure that you've kept everything in top form, thriving in your calling as much as any of us can—"
Pescar prattled on, but Theo's expression darkened as he tuned the eastern leader out. Just make it through the next couple hours, he thought to himself as they finally reached the meeting room.
Dynmar wasn't smiling from his place across the table. "You promised to give me a raise, and you're in charge now, so I don't see what the problem is."
Rook rubbed her face. "I'll get to it as soon as we can figure out everything with Ottan's remaining forces, okay?"
"Rook."
"I'll go take care of it right after this meeting," she conceded, and he nodded.
"It's about time. Anyway, did you find Fazir or not?"
Her expression darkened. "I went to all the places Byar mentioned today."
"And?"
"Completely cleaned out. Two of them didn't even have a tent there anymore, but you could tell there used to be one. The third was a permanent structure but it was completely bare."
"So he cleaned out his hideaways and ran," Dynmar reasoned.
"No." Rook leaned back in her chair. "He's dead."
The other guard frowned. "You found a body?"
"Didn't need to. If he had escaped that cave on his own, then he would have run immediately. I don't see him stopping to grab anything—at the very least, maybe a coin purse from one location, but he wouldn't have wasted time cleaning it out. The fact that everything's gone means that someone's wiping his trace off the south…and they'd only do that if they killed him."
Dynmar thought about that. "Could it be that they found out he fled and then just stole all of his possessions, knowing that he wouldn't come back for them? Looting happens all the time here."
"But the places weren't looted, Dynmar. They were erased. Looters would have trashed the place looking for things worth stealing and left the tents and useless furniture behind. There's no point in taking everything."
"Some people might see a point," Dynmar mused.
Rook heaved a sigh. "Okay, I guess we can agree we may never completely know…but my gut tells me he's dead." She pressed on her head to ward off the migraine. "Any luck finding out about Ern or Laysha from those we imprisoned?"
"They claim they didn't ever deal with them directly," Dynmar offered.
"Would they at least tell you who's calling the shots?"
"No. But the mention of Laysha did seem to spook them more than the mention of Ern."
"Great. I guess that's something." She leaned forward, resting the four legs of the chair back on the floor. "Maybe I'll head to the work camps tomorrow and see if any of the prisoners there know anything." Dynmar didn't answer, but she saw the look he gave her. She narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"They're gone, Rook—we both know it. Their plan failed, and they would be getting as far away from the south as possible. Yes, we can keep the extra guards the Rulership sent on patrol, and we can shake down every shady person in the south…but it may be months before we track down a clue."
She scowled again. "So what do you want to do? Give up?"
"Maybe just shift focus. If we go around harassing all the locals and sending forces of guards through the south constantly, we're going to backtrack. You know that—I know you do."
"But—"
"Yes, they're still out there, but I think we can both assume they aren't going to be a threat for a while. They would have to recuperate and come up with a new plan. Or…they might even give up. Ottan's in prison now; they don't even have someone to put in power if they did accomplish what they're trying."
"This Laysha chick could want to take a stab at leadership," Rook muttered.
"But think it through. Say they managed to take out Theo…that their plan to make it seem like he died of fever worked. They can't be stupid enough to think that the Rulership would just instate a random person who vied for the position."
Rook closed her eyes, thinking about what Dynmar was saying. "You're right; they wouldn't go for that normally. But they might not be thinking clearly if they were mourning their son."
"Anyone coming forward for the position would immediately be suspicious."
"If they knew he was poisoned. If they really thought that he was sick and died from that…"
"Do you really think Keyda would believe he just got really sick?"
Rook shrugged. "Maybe not. But you saw what happened when they were alerted. Laysha doesn't have to worry about getting the blame if the Rulership thinks I was the one who killed Theo." Dynmar went quiet, and she shook her head. "Maybe that was part of their plan—try to make it seem like an accident, and if that failed, make sure I took the fall for it. It wouldn't be difficult to do." She mused a little longer. "Honestly, the more I think about it, the more I wonder if their goal wasn't to get any of themselves on the southern throne."
"Then what? Get Ottan released?"
"Maybe they just were waiting for the Rulership to instate someone else—someone who would be easier to control from the sidelines. The south is an intimidating place; if Keyda put the wrong person in power, Ottan's remaining crew could strike an attractive bargain."
Dynmar rubbed his face. "You know, as much as I love sitting here and trying to figure all of this out, it's getting late."
"You want to head to bed?"
"You got it."
Rook waited for him to stand and leave, but when he didn't, she realized he was waiting for her to dismiss him. It had been strange to actually be in charge the last few days. She knew there were plenty of people who didn't like it, but for the first time in her life, people were doing what she told them to without questioning her every move. "Go ahead," she offered.
Dynmar nodded and stood. "Before I forget, this came for you. I meant to give it to you earlier but you were out scouring the villages for Fazir's hideouts." Dymar pulled a scroll out and tossed it onto the table. Rook quickly checked it for an ebony seal, but when she saw the silver-colored wax of the central fortress, she sagged a little. After a moment she reached out to claim it woodenly, though she made no move to open it. "The messenger made it clear that Theodynn is waiting on a response."
Rook winced. "Thanks," she offered, still not breaking the seal.
"Is he still sick?" Dynmar asked. "Is that why he's not back yet?"
"It's only been a few days. His parents are going to keep him at least a week, if not more, knowing them."
Dynmar looked like he wanted to ask more, but then shrugged. He left the room, and as the door closed, Rook slowly brought out the scroll she had gotten the day before. She had no idea why these pieces of rolled parchment were so intimidating, but she couldn't bring herself to read them.
What are you so scared of? She challenged irritably. That he's going to say that moving back to the Central Fortress has made him question everything? That he'll tell you how much his family hates you? You KNOW that neither of those things is going to happen. He's probably just asking how things are going…and when you're coming to meet him.
Her stomach turned over, and she cradled her head in defeat. She wished she could keep up what they had been doing the six months before he had been poisoned. The work had been hard as they got the pit up and running, dealing with a slew of challenges that seemed to pop up daily. Yet, things had been good at the same time. Each challenge they met felt like an additional victory, and with Theodynn more romantically open than ever, she had started feeling safe within their relationship at last. But the events of the past week had just jolted her back to reality. Things could be good while they were here in the south…but every month that they spent here was a month closer to him being pulled into his real destiny. Once he was Ruler…everything they had would end.
Rook cursed out loud and stood. The chair behind her became stuck on the rug, and when it wouldn't scoot back, she sent it flying in order to get out from in front of it. The wooden chair hit the stone wall with a crack, and the temporary southern leader paced the room. She wanted to go to the dining hall, but the scrolls on the table mocked her, reminding her that she had put them off long enough.
Did he realize that they were getting closer to the breaking point? That it didn't matter how good things were now…a realistic person could see that the Rulers were never going to give their consent to a long-term relationship. Even now, Rook wouldn't be surprised if they were telling Theo that he could never see her again…trying to pressure him into breaking it off with her before he lost anything else.
With that thought causing her heart to seize with fear, Rook finally marched over to the table and ripped the scrolls open. She scanned both quickly, looking for any kind of apology or explanation of why things were going to be different from here on out. Instead, the page was full of innocent rambling, discussing what adventures his sister and her boyfriend were getting into, and the blandness of the Central Fortress food. Both scrolls ended with him asking her to at least reply, or to come see him whenever she could.
She wanted to be relieved, but instead, Rook just tossed the parchments back onto the table bitterly. "He's lying to himself," she muttered softly. "Still thinking it's going to work out…"
But why couldn't it? It's up to Theo in the end who he loves…not his parents.
Rook's eyes flashed with light, and in another wave of anger, the scrolls crackled and dissolved in violet flame. By the time she had turned them to ash, there was a prominent scorch mark on the table, and Rook rubbed her face again as she tried to gain control of her emotions. She wished she could ignore all of the pressing thoughts and sink back into the bliss of the last few months, but she couldn't shake the very real feeling that things were approaching a head. Soon, they were going to have to reach a permanent decision.
Would they revoke his title if he told them he was choosing me? Would he choose me, if it was between me and his title? Could I ever let it get to a point where he would be forced to choose? Maybe I should just leave…disappear before he would have to make a decision like that.
She reached the door and threw it open, and the guards stationed there looked at her in surprise. She ignored their looks as she stormed into the hallway. It would be the kind thing to do…taking the pressure off of Theodynn by disappearing and making the choice easy. The problem was, she was far too selfish to ever go through with it. Even if part of her knew it would be better for him in the long run, she couldn't leave. Even amidst the internal turmoil, she clung stubbornly to the hope that somehow it could all work out…and as long as that hope was around, she knew she wasn't going to be able to cut him off. So…she was left in the position she hated the most: knowing she had no control over the situation as a whole, because no matter how much hope she had, she couldn't control what Theodynn would ultimately choose.
103
"Where are you headed?" Amber asked with a frown as she took in Theo's travel clothes. "Back to the south already?"
"Not yet—haven't gotten our parents' seal of approval for that," Theo admitted, hoisting the bag he was wearing higher on one shoulder. "I'm headed to the East."
"Oh. Why?" Amber asked.
"I'm getting a little stir crazy," Theo offered with a shrug.
"M's in the bathroom, but if you'll wait a few minutes, we can get ready quick and go with you," she offered. Rather than agree, Theo's expression clouded, and Amber's heart fell. "Unless…you'd rather we didn't."
"It's not you guys. It's that the trip is also a little bit more business than pleasure."
"What do you mean?"
"I've got to have some tough conversations," Theo admitted vaguely, and Amber felt a spike of frustration.
"Are you doing something dangerous, and you don't want me to know?"
"Nothing about it is dangerous, Ams. Promise." He glanced over at her. "Can I just have things I don't want to share without you assuming I'm doing something life-threatening?"
She folded her arms crossly. "Okay…well…good luck with whatever it is, then. I was just hoping that we could actually spend the day together today. It's been forever since we hung out just the two of us, Tay."
His expression softened, and she was surprised when he came over and gave her horn a tug. She honestly couldn't remember the last time he had done that, and it sent a wave of nostalgia through her as she thought about how they used to be.
"You know, if Rook and I are coming to Ninjago, then we should have plenty of time to hang out…just the two of us," he promised. "But you've got M here, and you don't want your older brother third-wheeling."
"We wouldn't mind, if you didn't torture him so much."
"Me? Torture? I'm just teasing him. Don't tell me he's taking it all seriously?"
"Some people don't know you as well as I do," Amber pointed out. "You can be intimidating when you want to be."
Theo snorted like he didn't quite believe her, and then gave her horn one last tug. "I promise we'll take time to catch up. I just…there's a lot of things I need to sort out right now, and I'll feel better when it's all smoothed over."
"Fine," Amber sighed. "But just so you know, it's beginning to feel like you spend your whole life 'sorting things out'. You don't have to wait for some opportune moment in order to take a break, you know."
"It's good to hear you say that," he teased as he released her horn at last. "Because from what I've heard, you're having a hard time taking it easy yourself."
"I'm not trying to run an entire province," Amber countered defensively. "And I'm here now, which I wouldn't be if I wasn't trying to slow down."
"Fair point," her brother conceded. "If you see Mom and Dad, tell them I'll be back for dinner."
"Do they know you're leaving?"
Theo shrugged, and Amber sighed. She understood why he wasn't necessarily going out of his way to get their permission—she knew he was old enough to make his own decisions and tended to get frustrated when people didn't trust him to do so. Rather than question him further, she moved to give him a hug. He seemed surprised, but then she felt him hug her back, and she noted that his emotions seemed to level out a little with the embrace.
"We'll hang out soon, okay?" he promised again.
"I'm holding you to that," Amber told him before pulling away. She looked up at him, and it was strange how much older he seemed. Maybe it was the way he was pulling his hair back now. "By the way, Hershel said he was going to try to stop by today or tomorrow."
Theo frowned. "To check on me? Syn's already been—"
"To visit his family," Amber corrected, raising an eyebrow. "Not everything's about you, Tay."
He blinked, but luckily he seemed to realize she was teasing because he rolled his eyes. "I guess that makes sense."
"He probably would like to at least see you, though," Amber pointed back. "So don't stay in the East too long, okay?"
"I'll keep it as brief as I can," he promised. "See you tonight, Ams." He moved to leave, and Amber sagged a little as she watched him go.
"See ya."
Haiven scowled as Alan's blade collided with hers, sending a painful, jarring sensation into her wrist and up her arm. He must have realized, because he stood down, studying her closely.
"You should probably hold the sword with both hands, to give it more stability."
Haiven narrowed her eyes. She gestured to the sword he was holding, which was similar in weight and size, looking pointedly at his free hand.
"I've been doing this since I was young," Alan pointed out awkwardly. "I'm used to the weight, but there's nothing wrong with using both hands to improve balance. In fact, it's probably the smarter move if you aren't carrying a shield."
Haiven huffed, tossing the sword into the dirt so she could massage her wrist. She waited for Alan to tell her that they should go again—after all, they had only been training for 20 minutes or so. Instead, the southerner sheathed his sword.
"We can be done," he offered. "But when you're finished with a sword, put it back in its sheath. You'll ruin the edge tossing it onto the ground like that, especially somewhere so sandy."
Haiven flushed, but her expression remained angry as she plucked the sword from the ground and shoved it into the sheath she had purchased for it. It felt bulky and awkward where it was hanging off of her frame, and she wondered if she would ever get used to it.
"Are you doing okay?" Alan asked, and she looked up to see him studying her closely.
I'm fine. She signed, but he didn't look like he believed her.
"If you don't want to learn how to swordfight, you don't have to," he told her. "Don't just do it because of what I said."
I wouldn't do anything just because you told me to, she insisted. She wasn't sure if he picked up on the whole sentence, but he seemed to get the gist. He frowned, as if trying to think of how to reply.
"You know, my dad never liked sword fighting either," he offered at last. "He couldn't ever find a blade that he felt comfortable with, and he didn't like carrying one around. He got really good at the crossbow, instead. Maybe—"
I'm not a soldier! Haiven signed angrily. I don't need to be good at any of this!
She stormed away, leaving Alan behind. He didn't follow her, and she felt a stir of guilt for snapping at him. She knew he was just trying to help, and she wasn't sure why she felt so angry all the time lately.
The area they were practicing at was close to the village where they lived with the other merchants, and Haiven marched down the dusty path, the obnoxious sword banging against her leg. Eventually, she reached her tent, and she removed the sheath belt and tossed the entire thing into a corner before sinking down onto the cushion on the floor. She didn't feel like sewing, but she forced herself to grab the latest project, reminding herself that she only had a few more things to complete before she would be free from all the backlogged orders.
A few hours ticked by, her anger retreating to a simmering feeling, only blazing fiercely when she managed to prick herself with her embroidery needle. By the time she had finished the project and moved on to the next one, her empty stomach was making itself known. She didn't have much in her tent to eat, but she wasn't sure she felt like walking all the way down to the market to find something. For one, it felt like too much effort, and for another, she hadn't gone there alone since the day she had been attacked.
You have to go back at some point, she reminded herself angrily. What, you're going to need a bodyguard from here on out to feel brave enough to go anywhere? Are you really going to go back to being THAT Haiven?
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't realize someone had approached her tent until she heard the scuff of a foot right outside. The seamstress felt another flash of anger; did Alan really think he had to check on her every time she stormed off? Why couldn't he take the hint that she didn't feel like being around anyone right now?
Haiven tossed the tunic she was working on to the ground and moved fluidly to the doorway of her tent. She threw open the curtain, prepared to rip into the young man outside, but she froze when she realized that it wasn't Alan standing a few feet away. It was Theo.
The Heir blinked as he caught sight of her furious expression and his clouded. "Um. Hey, Ven…is now a bad time?"
Haiven's entire body went numb, and she could feel the blood draining from her face as her angry demeanor softened with shock. He studied her, and when she didn't answer, he cleared his throat.
"I need to talk to you about something," he tried, and her mind raced as she tried to think of how to respond. Did she tell him she was too busy? Would he leave if she did? She wanted to believe that he was here because he needed her advice, or something like that…but deep down, she knew exactly what this was about.
You look better, she finally offered, her signing halting as she stalled.
"I'm pretty much back to normal," he agreed. "With any luck, I can head back to the south in a few days." He rubbed his neck. "The week I was sick is pretty fuzzy—I don't remember a lot of stuff that happened. That's what I wanted to ask you about. There's some stuff I need to know."
Haiven's stomach twisted, and she debated a little longer whether it would be possible to postpone this conversation. However, she knew that it was going to have to happen at some point—might as well get it over with now.
I haven't eaten, she finally offered.
"Oh. Well…let's go to the markets. We can talk on the way, and get something to eat."
She nodded her agreement, and after hesitating for one last moment, she followed him down the path. Haiven rubbed her arms, having broken out into a cold sweat despite the heat of the day.
"So…how's business been?" Theo tried as they made their way down the path. Haiven wasn't sure whether to be relieved or more stressed that he was starting with small talk.
Fine, she offered, though in her head, all she could think about was the looming deadline to finish her projects and the fact she had been attacked in the marketplace. She could bring either of those up and she knew that it would probably distract Theo from what he had come to say, but it felt like a cheap thing to do.
"I went by your stall first, but there was a sign saying you weren't taking any orders?"
I'm just trying to catch up, maybe take a little time off. It's been a busy year.
He was quiet for a few moments, and Haiven stumbled on a stone in the path. He reached out to steady her, but she pulled away.
"Taking time off to come stay in the south probably didn't really help you get caught up, huh?" he offered, and she felt a twist of guilt. It was true that going to be with him had put her behind, but it wouldn't be fair to blame him for it.
It's fine, Theo. I was happy to help.
"How long were you in the south? I…can't really remember."
Haiven shifted. Nearly a week.
He nodded, and the sounds of the marketplace surrounded them as they finally reached it. They passed by the stalls in the Artist Initiative area, and then continued on toward the food merchants.
"Haiven…did you write to my parents and ask them to come?"
Goosebumps exploded up Haiven's arms as she felt a wave of nausea. Maybe she didn't really feel like eating after all. When she hesitated, Theo stopped walking, forcing her to also pause.
"I'm not mad," he offered, "I'm just trying to figure some stuff out. I'm missing some pieces, so—"
I wrote to them, Haiven agreed, keeping her eyes downcast as she signed.
"You told them to come?"
Yeah.
"Why?"
Haiven finally glanced up at him, a feeling of defensiveness battling against the guilt inside. You weren't doing well, Theo. We got to the point where we thought you were hours from death.
He clenched his jaw, and it was difficult to read his expression. "Then…it makes sense why you would reach out to them," he conceded, and Haiven sagged. However, her relief was short-lived as he continued. "Did you say anything about Rook in the letter?"
Haiven wished she was better at lying, but she had never really been able to lie to him. It was the question she had been dreading, and what made it worse was the fact that she didn't actually know how much he knew. Was he truly clueless about what had gone down? Or had he found the note and read it himself and was now questioning her about it because he wanted to see if she'd at least honestly confess to what she did?
She wouldn't respond, and she could feel Theo watching her. When she heard him curse under his breath, she looked up at him. She wished she hadn't; his expression was etched with betrayal.
"Did you tell them she had poisoned me?" he demanded, and Haiven flinched.
No, she insisted, though her mind berated her. He didn't look like he believed her, so she continued slowly. I told them that she was acting suspicious…but only because she was.
"For the love of…" Theo muttered, his expression twisting with anger. Haiven's heart began galloping—she couldn't remember another time when he had actually been angry with her. Something snapped.
Rook was gone all the time, Haiven signed desperately, her eyes filling with tears. I told her that I couldn't help you, but she told me not to go get more aid. You were so sick, and she didn't even seem to care; she spent all her time taking charge, bossing everyone around…I got scared. I got scared that she didn't have your best interests at heart. That's all I told your parents…but I should have the right to tell them if I really was worried!
She could tell that Theo wanted to say something, but even being obviously angry, he at least was quiet long enough to watch her sign, rather than just talking over her, the way Blist or Iona would. When she finished, she began crying, knowing that he was going to yell at her.
Theo exhaled angrily, but his expression softened somewhat when he saw her start crying. "Haiven-"
I knew you would hate me for it but I didn't want you to die! She signed, cutting him off.
"I don't hate you," he countered, which just made her cry all the harder. "I just…I wish you would have kept your perception of Rook to yourself."
If you thought someone was threatening someone you cared about—
"Rook wasn't threatening me—she had to keep the south going. That's the reason she wasn't around more. But now my parents are convinced she was the one trying to kill me, and it's made everything a thousand times harder…"
I just didn't want anything to happen to you, Haiven signed between wiping the tears off her face.
"Are you sure that's the only reason you accused her?"
The question hung in the air, and Haiven felt like she had been slapped. She just stared at him, and after maintaining eye contact for a moment, his resolve cracked. Theo glanced away.
"I'm sorry, that isn't fair. I just…wish everyone would stop treating her like she's seconds away from stabbing me in the back."
Haiven rubbed her face one last time. It would help if she hadn't already done it, she pointed out, and Theo shook his head.
"There's been so much that's happened since then—so much we've been through, and nobody seems to care about that part!" he pointed out. "I get why it would be hard for people to see the real Rook, given her past…but it really is starting to feel like no one's even trying to."
Haiven wasn't sure how to reply to that, but he was already turning to go. Her heart began pounding again, and she moved to try and stop him. If he left now, still angry with her…would he ever come back? Would he just hate her forever?
Wait…
Theo paused, turning toward her while pulling something out of his pocket. She realized it was a coin purse, and she stared numbly as he fished a few bits out and put them in her hand.
"For lunch," he offered. "I'm actually not feeling that hungry."
She wanted to give the money back, but suddenly it felt like her feet were glued to the ground, and that she was helpless to do anything but watch as he turned and left her in the middle of the market. Her mind ordered her to stop him again, but she didn't even know what to say that would smooth this over. An apology? Further words in her own defense? The Heir of the Oni disappeared into the crowd by the time she lurched forward again, he had disappeared.
The horror, shame, and anger overwhelmed her, and Haiven began sobbing in earnest in the middle of the marketplace, the bits he had given her still clutched in one hand. Part of her mind yelled at her that she was making the same mistake she had made when she had gotten attacked a few days previous-if she was going to fall apart, she should do it in the safety of her own home. However, with the fear that she had done something that Theo wasn't going to forgive her for plaguing her mind, she couldn't bring herself to do anything but stand there and cry.
"Haiven?"
She flinched as someone said her name, and she whirled. She prepared herself to tell off whoever was about to insist on helping her, but she froze when she realized it was the Eastern Leader himself, surrounded by his entourage of guards. Pescar's expression was pinched with concern as he took in her splotchy, tear-streaked face.
"Are you… all right?"
There was no point in telling him she was fine—it was obvious she wasn't. She wished that she could tell him to just leave her alone, but she doubted that was something you could really say to the leader of the province—especially when he was the one hosting her in his marketplace. Haiven finally just shrugged miserably, and he frowned.
"Would you like to join me for lunch?" he asked. "I was just about to head back to the fortress."
She nearly shook her head, but then she stopped. He had already caught her crying, and she was starving…and she knew she sure wasn't about to spend the money Theo had just given her.
She nodded once, and Pescar smiled as he motioned for her to follow.