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Chapter 16 - Samn

When we set off, my stomach seems to have settled at least a bit. The poppy seeds are making my eyes begin to drift shut every few minutes but the queen is accommodating me with a steady, calm pace.

In between flashes of uncomfortable heat, I feel guilty. Whatever the queen heard at the Lunar Temple, it must have been important. And yet here she is, slowing our pace on my behalf.

What if the kingdom…

Sighing, I rub my nose. As the sun's rising, the heat's getting worse. Crossing the moor doesn't leave much cover-wise, and the queen seems to know it. She leads us towards the trees and I breathe a sigh of relief.

With the cover of the small glade, the ride is more bearable. The trees that line the Wynnder border provide a thick overhead of leaves that block the worst of the heat. We're making better time as the horses seem to appreciate the cover.

I'm finally starting to feel at ease again when the trees begin to thin and the telltale sharp heat of god-magic burns my tongue. We must be near an estate. Sure enough, within minutes a field comes into view, a sprawling manor on the other side of it.

I can almost feel the sun beating down on my back at the prospect of the hours it would take to ride across the field. Thankfully, the queen seems to be leading us along the edge of the field, towards the manor and further from Wynnder territory.

"The mountain range should provide cover from the gods," the queen says. "It'll slow our journey but we can't afford to risk it. An encounter with Shodawa now would be disastrous."

No one questions her and the unspoken agreement to avoid Wynnder territory regardless of the delay hangs in the air.

The sun is making its way across the sky as we finally make it to the manor. The gigantic house is even more intimidating up close. I glance at Fiyr, trying to figure out what he must be feeling right now, but his forest-green eyes are inscrutably narrowed at it.

"Hail, travellers!" A cheerful call rings across the field to us.

As our heads turn to see who it is, a young man, lanky and tanned lopes up to us, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

He's around a year, maybe two, older than us, if I had to guess. He doesn't look like a fighter, but he doesn't seem to be unfamiliar with hard work if his sweat-soaked brow is anything to go by.

And his biceps, I think privately, biting the inside of my cheek and feeling heat creep up my neck.

"Barrleigh!" The queen says, sounding revived after the long journey. "It's good to see you! My, you've grown!"

He laughs, ruffling his salt and pepper hair. "It's a good thing too. Gods woulda kicked me out if I didn't start learnin' how to farm on Knave's Moor. This your family?"

I stifle a snort at Sir Cawle's affronted expression.

"No, some of my kingdom's best and brightest," the queen corrects him, cracking a half-smile at the implications.

"Yeah, Thundria, huh?" Despite his amiable tone, he seems to have absolutely no idea what he's talking about. "How… uh, how's things?"

"I don't mean to offend," Sir Cawle begins, and I wince, knowing something rude's coming, "but what exactly do you want?"

"A guy can't catch up with his old buddies?" Barrleigh's still warm, but his eyebrow's cocked. I'm surprised that he doesn't start cowering before Sir Cawle. "No harm, eh? Just making conversation."

"We shouldn't be away from the kingdom for long," Bluelianna says, seeming to understand that the situation will need to be diffused.

"It was nice meeting you," Ravne pipes up.

"Hey, nice meetin' you too!" Barrleigh says, seeming to be glad to relieve the tension. He shakes Ravne's hand, who continues to stare at the newcomer, awed.

"We should be going," Sir Cawle half-growls, not seeming to like Ravne's enthralled expression.

"Yes, it was lovely to see you again, Barrleigh. Don't be a stranger!" Queen Bluelianna says, ushering us away.

"Well, now hang on, there," he suddenly says, reaching out to us. "Careful by the mountains, eh? Gods're talkin' 'bout some orcs sighted there sometime ago. Stay down by the caves, right?"

"Thank you," Sir Cawle says firmly, his mouth a hard line.

"Jus' givin' you a heads up," Barrleigh says, lifting his hands in a 'what can you do' gesture.

"It is appreciated," the queen says, shooting a look at Sir Cawle.

As we set off again, both Ravne and Tigre Cawle are glancing back at Barrleigh, though for different reasons. The queen raises her eyebrows at Sir Cawle, waiting for him to either say something or stop his little huffs.

"I don't think we can trust him," Sir Cawle eventually mutters.

"He's never given us a reason not to," Queen Bluelianna says softly. "We'll stay by the caves."

Sir Cawle's nostrils flare but he says nothing.

…

We've been riding by the caves for around an hour now.

It's definitely creepy. The setting sun casts long shadows over everything and the caves fade into complete darkness only a couple metres in, leaving my active imagination to fill in the gaps. All kinds of creepy-crawlies that lurk in the shadows and drag themselves out at night to devour children…

I shudder, trying to focus on the path ahead.

"Ravne, hurry up," Sir Cawle snaps without even looking back.

I glance back to shoot him a sympathetic look.

Both Ravne and Indigo are gone.

"Sir Cawle!" I yelp before I can gather my thoughts. "They're gone!"

"Who's gone?" the queen demands, wheeling her horse around.

"Ravne and—"

And then they're upon us. It's like the sun has just very suddenly fallen below the horizon, darkness falling across the land.

I feel Dune buckle beneath me, and I narrowly avoid being crushed as I scramble off her, my heart beating out of my chest.

I hear a deep laugh and feel hot breath on my ear.

I whip around, unsheathing Bolt in the same motion and cutting through—mist. Oh no. No, no, no, this is bad.

The same laughter. Inhuman.

"Queen Bluelianna!" I scream, trying to make out figures in the impenetrable darkness. "Sir Cawle? Fiyr? Graie? Ravne?!"

I can hear the others too now, calling out, shouting for help that's not coming.

An ice-cold hand lands on my shoulder. No, not my shoulder, too close to my neck to be my shoulder. The neckline of the tunic.

Without thinking, I spin again and cut through the same nothingness. The hand disappears. Vampires. Vampires. How do I fight them? Damned Blacklands, Samn, think!

I hear a scream. It's too high to be Tigre but too mature to be one of the squires—

"My queen!" I yell, charging blindly into the darkness, but I trip and the world flips around me. The cold laughter is close, right above me, they're coming—

The grass is wet and cold on my back. I scramble backwards, but they're surging towards me and I have to defend myself.

I swing, still blind, but my sword connects with nothing.

"Blood," one of them hisses.

Fuck. What a terrible time of the month for vampires to attack.

I thrash harder, feeling a cold hand close around my calf, and kick with all the fight I have left.

Then suddenly, the world is lighting up around me.

Fire is blazing above us, being drawn from a thin stream from somewhere on the ground into a blossoming fireball high above our heads. Fiyr, thank the Starlaxi.

I scream in the face of the creatures that are surrounding me, cut through the couple that have tried to pin me, and whip to my feet, grabbing a stick on the ground. I lift both it and Bolt in a mock dual-weapon fighting stance. The creatures hiss, but with a few swipes they've all turned to mist.

I glance around.

The scene is chaos.

Fiyr and Graie are back to back, swinging their swords at any of the fanged shadows that get too close. Sir Cawle is thrashing by the entrance of a cave. Ravne is still missing.

And the queen… the queen is surrounded.

My breath catches in my throat as I see the true form of the creatures that have decided to abandon their cover in favour of ripping my ruler apart.

They're pale as the moon, humanoid but almost ghostly, with black features; eyes, lips, hair, all sculpted of ebony. And their mouths, drawn back in white-fanged snarls. They don't move like humans, or even animals, but rather like shadows, flickering in and out of the air like the light cast on them is inconstant.

"Get away from her!" I scream a battle cry as I charge the cluster of them.

There's an explosion behind me, but everything in me is focused on saving the queen's life. I'm not going to make it. I'm not going to make it.

It's too far, the vampires are lunging…

One of the vampires, taller and faster than the others, knocks down the queen as she thrusts spikes of ice through its companions chests. As Queen Bluelianna tumbles to the ground, she throws out a hand and a jagged shard of ice shoots out of the ground, spearing one of the vampires.

It's no use. The bigger one prowls closer, right above her, when suddenly—

A blazing torch, thrown with startling velocity, slams into the back of the vampire, who whips around and hisses as it begins to burn. Its unearthly cry makes my skin tingle, but I'm too busy thanking the Starlaxi for whoever threw that torch.

"Fire-boy, toss me another of those!" It's Barrleigh, triumphant.

And I bet I can guess who 'fire-boy' is.

I run over and send a spray of sand across the crowd of vampires. I don't have enough power to send them through the air at a speed to actually injure, but it works for intimidation and they all vanish into mist, thinking the sand is something more menacing.

"Burn them all!" Fiyr yells, sounding maniacal. The firelight sends bright orange light spilling out over the scene, and I hear more hissing screams.

"You led us into a trap!" It's Sir Cawle, charging straight for Barrleigh with Tigerclaw drawn and gleaming.

"Hey! Hey! Whoa, buddy, I didn't know the vamps were there! I didn't mean to!" Barrleigh yelps, dropping the burning torch which hits the ground with hisss and raising his hands in surrender.

Growling at Sir Cawle's unnecessary aggression and knowing the vampires are going to rematerialize any second now, I storm over to the pair of them.

"Sir Cawle, the queen needs you right now, so leave Barrleigh, we'll deal with him later," I snap, glancing at Barrleigh and seeing the genuine shock and fear in his eyes.

When Sir Cawle gives me a stiff nod and heads for the queen, I turn back to Barrleigh. Before I can say a word, he interrupts.

"Where was that kid that was with you? Not fire-boy and his buddy, the—the other one?"

"Ravne? I don't know. We have to find him," I agree, my heart beating faster. "We lost him around those caves. You have fire?"

"Thanks to that carrot-lookin' kid, I have enough torches to send 'em all up in blazes," Barrleigh promises lowly. He spins and dashes towards the caves I gestured to earlier.

"Fiyr, Graie!" I yell. "Help the queen!"

I turn and run after Barrleigh. "Ravne!"

We drive the vampires off with Fiyr's fire and Barrleigh's torches, but when Barrleigh reappears with Ravne slung over his shoulder, it's clear he's in a bad way. Some of the monsters were dragging him off into the caves, and my stomach is twisted with fear that they've already bit him.

He looks enough like a vampire already, with his black hair and ghost-white skin. He doesn't need a pair of bite marks to prove it. Blood pools in the corner of his mouth and his breathing is shallow.

Barrleigh carries him back to the rest of the group, and I wring my hands, following behind him. When we reach them, my heart seizes in my chest. Graie, Fiyr, and Tigre Cawle are all standing around the prone body of… the queen.

No.

"Queen Bluelianna?" I croak.

"She's in the Starlaxi's hands now," Sir Cawle says gravely.

"Ravne!" Graie choked. "Is he alive?!"

"I—I don't know, I mean his heart's beatin', but it ain't strong," Barrleigh said softly. "Y'all have anythin' to, I don't know, bandage it or somethin'?"

"Does he have a wound?" Fiyr asked, also hurrying over.

"What about the queen?" I snap.

"She's coming back, the Starlaxi is bringing her back," Sir Cawle says softly, watching the body without breaking eye-contact for a moment. "Ravne's dead?"

"He's not dead!" Graie exclaims, upset. "He's just hurt! We can fix him!"

But our attention is drawn away by a sudden glow emanating from the queen's body. It begins in her forehead, from the star there, then spreads to shroud her whole face in pearlescent, ghostly light.

Her body rises slightly, as though her whole torso's being pulled up towards something, and then she exhales deeply and her eyes flutter open.

"Queen Bluelianna!" I exclaim, unable to hide my deep relief. She blinks, staring up at the sky, which is now lightening once more, like she's not quite aware.

"Barrleigh, go find something to patch them up," Sir Cawle orders him.

"Yessir," the boy snorts, but still rushes away towards the manor's.

I kneel by the side of the queen and help her sit up.

"Wh—what happened?" she rasps, and glances up at Sir Cawle who is watching Barrleigh run off. "I would have died…"

"It was Barrleigh that brought the fire," I tell her softly, then more grudgingly admit, "and Fiyr helped too."

She nods, closing her eyes. "Is Barrleigh still here?"

"Sir Cawle sent him to find medicine," I say. "I think he believes that Barrleigh led us into a trap."

"And do you?" the queen asks, her voice cracking.

"I don't know why he would lead us into a trap and then try to save us from it," I say. "But I don't know much about him either."

The queen nods slowly. "Wise."

I smile weakly, but I'm worried. Her skin has lost a little colour, going paler and closer to the colour of the star on her forehead. The edges of the star are more difficult to make out and it looks duller, less iridescent. Is this the Starlaxi calling her back to them? I can't deny the claws of worry that grip my stomach despite the queen's apparent recovery.

"He wasn't bitten." Graie's voice is weak with relief. "He wasn't. Just roughed up. Looks like they hit him over the head, bruises, swelling, and maybe a concussion. Just scratches. No bite."

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. He'll recover. He has to.

"And Indigo?" Fiyr wants to know.

"His horse was nowhere to be found," I say. And the Starlaxi knows that a message directly from them wouldn't be enough to send me back into those caves. "Gone."

Fiyr nods, his expression sobered from the wild exhilaration of the fight.

"We're lucky that's all we lost," Sir Cawle says, staring across the field.

Fiyr nods, but I have an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. That's all? A horse, and you know, our Blacklands-damned ruler's life! But getting upset about it now is going to solve nothing. One of her Blessings is gone and I don't know how many that leaves her with. It's unsettling; I was pretty sure that wasn't her last life, but now I'm realizing if it had been, everything would have been turned upside down so fast. We'd have King Liyon Star. He wouldn't know about me. Would Spottalia tell him?

"Rabinna," Ravne murmurs in his sleep, rolling over.

Sighing, I kneel beside him and grip his shoulder, shaking him a little.

"Hey, careful!" Graie snaps and I grit my teeth.

"He has to wake up. We have to keep riding as soon as possible," I say, still shaking Ravne, though a little gentler now.

"Well you haven't got to yank at him!" Graie spits back, but there's no fight in his hazel eyes, just worry. "At least let him be until Barrleigh returns."

I roll my eyes, standing again, but it's a little heartening to see at least Graie being protective of Ravne. We round up the horses while waiting for Barrleigh with the medicine, and just as Tigre Cawle is grumbling about how he probably just ran off and damn outlanders can't keep a promise for a damn second, Barrleigh returns.

"Brought some salve, my momma used to keep a jar of salve for scrapes and—here, just dab a little in the scratches," he says, shifting from foot to foot nervously. "C'mon! What are you waiting for?"

Sir Cawle stares the boy down, amber eyes knife-sharp. "What's in it?"
"If it was poison, I'd tell you to feed it to him, hay-brain!" Barrleigh snaps, his face flushing with anger. "Just give him the damn medicine! He's dying!"

"He's not dying!" Graie snaps back, snatching the medicine out of the outlander's hands before Tigre can raise any more of a fuss. "He's fine, we just have to patch up his scratches."

I glance at Fiyr. His hands have curled into fists and he's watching Barrleigh.

Not him too? Why would this outlander betray us? What would be motivating him? I wonder irritably. Can we maybe focus on the people that are actually hurt, here?

I kneel next to Ravne, glancing at Graie.

"If you start shaking him again, I swear to Starlaxi—" The threat starts strong but his voice begins to shake and all I feel is pity.

"I just want to help. Do we have bandages?" I ask.

"See if Barrleigh brought any," Graie says, waving me off as he carefully administers the salve. I ignore how badly his hands are shaking.

I leave him to fuss over Ravne and march over to Barrleigh, ignoring Fiyr and Sir Cawle's scrutiny. "Did you bring bandages?" I ask with as much polite tact as I can manage.

"I did bring bandages," he answers, seeming to have recovered from the outburst at Sir Cawle. The faintest twinkle in his hazel eyes communicates that he's aware of the burning gazes of the two people that have apparently randomly decided he's a reincarnated Blacklands-dweller.

"Thank you."

Taking the cloth strips, an idea hits me. The moment the bandages are out of sight of the rest of the group, I slip a couple into the satchel on my hip. Well, they're for stemming the flow of blood, right? May as well.

"Here."

I feel weirdly embarrassed when Graie looks up at me with obviously red hazel eyes. I know we all love Ravne, but he's really… I soften, looking into Graie's eyes. Not my business. We just need to help him right now.

"Thanks," he rasps, and I nod, fighting the urge to run my hands through my hair until it falls off. Nervous tic, I guess, and it's been a pretty fucking nerve-racking day.

…

Once everyone's as recovered as they can be in the short time that Queen Bluelianna allows us to take a break, we begin packing up the horses and preparing for our departure. Ravne's been awake and up for a bit now, though he still flinches at loud noises. Then again, hasn't he always?

"Ravne will ride with me on Lazuli," the queen announces, standing to mount the demure gray mare.

"Well, now, hang on," Barrleigh interrupts. "He's—he's still pretty roughed up. Sure you don't wanna leave him here for a couple weeks or so, 'til he recovers, y'know?"

"Absolutely not," Sir Cawle interjects stiffly. Apparently the camaraderie and medicine that Barrleigh has offered us freely did nothing to appease him.

It makes my palms itch with irritation. What, does he want Barrleigh to shit diamonds? He's damn well more pleasant than half the court and has done fuck all to deserve this kind of treatment from Sir Cawle. Then again, when has Sir Cawle's behaviour ever made sense?

"We appreciate the offer, Barrleigh, but Ravne will be treated well at the castle, and we will be certain the trip is not too hard on him," Queen Bluelianna says, though there's a deeply amused and knowing gleam in her ice-blue eyes that I can only guess at. "We'll be sure to pass this way again should I require counsel from the Starlaxi."

"A'ight," Barrleigh says casually, shrugging nonchalantly. "Yeah, cool. No, all good."

"We'll see each other again," Ravne chimes in. He's blinking like he's barely conscious, but his gaze fixes itself on Barrleigh all the same. "I have a feeling."

Barrleigh glances back and him and nods, his lips quirking into a little smile.

"Let's go," Sir Cawle snaps, and the queen mounts Lazuli.

I head over to where Dune has been resting after her tussle with the vampires. Fiyr's still staring at Ravne and Barrleigh, looking utterly perplexed. I bite back a laugh at his complete bewilderment.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Barrleigh," the queen says. "Thundria thanks you, and hopes you remain a friend for many seasons to come."

Barrleigh gives her a little salute and grins. "Yeah, me too. You take care, yeah?"
Regardless of Sir Cawle's dirty glare, I can't help a mirroring grin. Farm life must be so different from life in the court. Hard work all the same, but maybe less… psychologically taxing. Speaking of which…

After our tangle with the vampires, I know that the queen will have to lead us through Wynnder territory, regardless of the consequences.

And I'm getting worried about the consequences.

Thanks for reading chapter 16! Please follow and favourite this story and leave me a review with what you think!

~Akila