The next morning is mildly unpleasant. Guhen flits once again about his table, but Rilian knows the Owl wouldn't know anything new, not yet, so the King just stops in to say hello. It amuses him that the Owl barely hears him. Apparently the librarians took the King's command seriously, and in an effort to inventory everything at the table and make sure it stayed, they'd rearranged all of Guhen's books. Judging by the mutterings and ruffled feathers, the Owl does not appreciate their kindness.
Breakfast is yet another exercise in patience, for the Ambassador sits beside Ileana and spends most of the meal asking about her plans. Rilian rescues her as best he can, but politeness demands she converse with those nearest her if they speak, and Rilian can only block so much. He makes a mental note, after the chase, to send to his housekeeper and find out how much longer this particular Ambassador is staying.
After court, and the chase, which Rilian still hopes to join, if the line is short at court.
It is not.
Or rather, it is—only one case—but it's two Dwarf clans arguing over which group invented a specific welding technique first, and as such they feel required to tell the entire life history of at least nine Dwarfs.
Per clan.
The first clan had regaled the court with stories of six by the time lunch came along. Rilian wishes he could nap during the tales, but the Dwarfs tend to sprinkle them with salient points. Rilian will have to make a judgement, and he wonders sourly if this is where the idea of tests over lessons first emerged.
The Dwarfs stay to lunch, joking with each other and arguing. Once, Rilian would have smiled at hearing Narnians so happy, and he scolds himself for being a petulant child, whining about a toy he cannot have, but from the bottom of his heart he wishes they would hurry, or have come next week, or perhaps just agreed to share. He's going to miss the chase and he knows it.
Going back, he finds himself distracted by picturing Ileana climbing into the armour, Drinian grumbling behind her. Perhaps she'd tuck a blanket or towel between Drinian and his armour. Rilian wonders what she'll use to cover their smell, and wishes he was there, bound in a third armour, standing absolutely still—because Ileana would be there, and it would be fun to laugh with her later.
But no, there is a red Dwarf standing in front of him, detailing his great-grandfather's favourite foods. Because he is a king.
However, halfway through the fourth life of the second clan, the chief's wife apparently decided she'd had enough, for she slapped the speaker on the back of the head and told him to get on with it, she had chores and mouths to feed waiting at home, and if they weren't as large as the mouth doing the talking, they were large enough to need a great deal of feeding.
The remainder of that recitation and the next four did not take longer than half an hour. Rilian, having heard enough, decrees the two clans developed the same technique separately (they did), and therefore both are entitled to use it. Some Dwarfs slap each other on the back and declare that's just what they knew, while others shift and scowl at the floor.
Rilian dismisses them without caring too much. A king can seldom make everyone happy.
But the chase has only been on for about an hour, and perhaps, oh, perhaps, he can still join? He goes first to the armoury, to find the Captain.
The Faun is polishing a bronze breastplate, Centaur size, with long, slow circles and a listening expression on his face. He begins to stand when he sees the King, but Rilian waves him back to the bench.
"Thank you, Sire."
"What news of the chase?"
The Captain smiles, eyes fond. "The Kittens were caught in the first hour, hiding on top of velvet tapestries and napping. Indignant at being caught before the Dogs, I might mention, but napping so thoroughly there wasn't any chase. They volunteered to help search. We've sighted two of the Dogs, and if you listen hard, Sire—" Rilian listens and hears a few distant shouts, and smiles — "that'd be the chase. The Dogs are fast, and someone, I would guess Piram or Jarmu, told them to make use of the stairs. They can jump much further up staircases than most two-legged creatures, and it keeps increasing their lead. But we'll wear them down."
"And it's good exercise for the soldiers," Rilian guesses, mouth twitching.
"Indeed, Sire."
"But not for the Captain?"
"The Captain has enough running around, chasing errant soldiers. But he appreciates your concern."
Rilian laughs lightly, before bringing up a point he'd been meaning to mention. "Have you thought of apprenticing Piram, next year when he is old enough?"
"I thought about apprenticing them both. Begging your pardon, Sire. I didn't mean any disrespect. A little military discipline would do wonders for Jarmu. But the boy's an explorer, and wisely turned me down. This would feel like a cage to him." The Faun shakes his head. "Piram managed to persuade him to continue coming in for defence lessons, weaponry, and other things, every afternoon," he adds quietly. "That lad will make quite the leader. He can recognise others' gifts, and he earns their trust enough to make them follow him when he knows he's right. Even someone like his troublesome cousin."
Rilian spares a moment to thank Aslan that his people are so capable. "What of Jarmu and Piram? Have they been found?"
The Captain laughs. "The boys laid false scent trails, criss-crossing each other, all across the Cair. We can't find them by scent, and the Birds have seen nothing from the air. I've men searching the off-limits corridors, just in case, and we've got it narrowed down to two towers by freshest scents—if they kept to the rules—but they lasted long enough to make a good showing, and if they can run as well as they hide, they'll do well."
Interesting, but not, Rilian admitted to himself, the ones he really wanted to hear about. "Ileana and Drinian?"
The Captain glances up, startled. "We're chasing the Lord Drinian now?"
"He's with Ileana," Rilian explains, smiling.
"That lass seems to have as much success roping people into things as Jarmu himself," the Captain states dryly, and Rilian squashes down a quick flare of jealousy at the comparison. "Perhaps that's why we haven't seen or heard anything of her, then."
"No, she leads the field."
"Hmmmm. She has a talent for this, then. We lost their scent in the kitchen, and couldn't pick it up again when we came out. We suspect she—they—had someone carry them out, without touching anything."
"Ah. Carry on, then." Rilian makes his way, with deliberately meandering steps, towards the commotion of barking and pounding feet—and then changes, once he is sure he is out of earshot, running with swift, quiet feet to the suit of armour he thought Ileana probably chose. There would be one for Drinian close by, and it would be easy to get into, for it stood in front of a high shelf.
She isn't there.
Rilian spends the next two hours checking every suit of armour in the allowed limits. He even checks the child's armour his father wore as a boy.
He does not find Ileana.
As the time goes longer, he grumbles to himself about people who don't keep their word, kicking passing walls. He knows it's to bury the small fear, the knowledge that if she's not in a suit of armour, then she lied to him. She's hidden things from him before, but she hasn't actually lied.
He really, really doesn't want this to be a lie. He tells himself that she was almost found, that she had to get out and run, that she found another hiding place and didn't expect him to come looking—but there's an irrational edge of fear, telling him it's the first sign. The first sign that she isn't a trustworthy, honest person.
Of course, in the back of his head he can also hear Drinian telling him he's making a fleet out of a broken raft, and that helps a great deal more than his own justifications. He can hear, much less clearly, his own father telling him he's making wars out of trifles, and he smiles wistfully, for he misses his father's voice.
But he still can't find Ileana. His anger and fear grow a little with each passing segment.
Jarmu and Piram—hiding together, because they are cousins and brothers at the end of the day—are cornered within an hour, and Rilian joins in the chase to distract himself. Also to weigh their skills, and he is impressed. Not by their skills, but by the way they keep covering for each other, lifting one another up if the other stumbles, even if that is what leads to both of them being caught.
"Are we the last?" Piram asks, panting. His eyes flick from Rilian to the Captain, face anxious.
"Not quite; Ileana and the Lord Drinian have yet to be found. But you did well," the Captain adds, and Piram's anxious expression melts into relief. Jarmu socks his arm.
"Told you we'd be fine. You'll get what you want."
"Not everything I want," Piram mutters, though Rilian is close enough to hear him.
"Ah, well, I'll still come back for training. Try to be satisfied with that." Jarmu clears his throat and adds, more loudly, "Can we help find the rest?"
"Surely," Rilian agrees. "You'll be a great deal more help than all these soldiers."
"Sire, a word?" It's the Captain, and something in his tone warns Rilian that he's misstepped. He and his guard go to a hallway.
"Sire, I know it's presumptuous, but Lord Drinian isn't here to say it—you need to do something to let that frustration out, and taking it out on a group of children is not the kingly way to do so."
Rilian takes a deep breath in, then lets it out, letting his anger go, his frustration. At the Dwarfs, at the hunt, at his fears, at his own inability to find Ileana—he thinks of each one and lets it go too. "Thank you, Captain."
"My—well, not my pleasure, but my honour, Sire." The Captain bows. "I serve a good king," he adds seriously.
Rilian rejoins the group, to hear the soldiers asking if the boys have any suggestions for where the lady might be hiding. Jarmu has a few—no surprise—but when they're checked, they're empty. Unless Ileana is using some kind of magic, Rilian thinks, to shield herself? He goes back to the suits of armour and reaches his hand in each one, but he only finds empty air. Everyone searches for another hour, till the bell rings for supper, and then give up and go to the dining hall, waiting to welcome the triumphant pair there. Rilian wonders which story of his childhood Drinian will choose to tell, since Ileana won the bet. An embarrassing one, Rilian is sure.
He sits, waiting, at the head table, two empty chairs to his left. The children sit grouped together at the next table, and they're also watching the door, though they do so between mouthfuls.
Ileana doesn't come.
Rilian waits till halfway through the first course, just in case they'd had a long way to travel from their hiding spot (Ileana wouldn't be running). When no one shows, he leaves the table and goes back to the armoury. The Captain is still there, putting back the breastplates and swords he'd polished in the afternoon.
"Sire," he says, bowing, holding the extra sword to the side. "Is something wrong?"
"I am not sure," Rilian admits quietly. "But Ileana and Drinian did not come to supper."
The Captain puts down the sword. "I do not know the lady that well, but if Lord Drinian did not arrive, there's cause for looking into things. I'll order a search," he responds as he heads towards the door. "We'll use all the senses this time, not just sight and scent. The Bats and Owls are just beginning to come out, and they can hear heartbeats."
"Thank you." Rilian rubs one of his arms. "I'll begin in her room."
Her room is spotlessly clean. As Rilian enters the first thing he sees are the white curtains billowing out from the window in the breeze and the sky-blue wardrobe curtain half pulled to show two spare dresses. A necklace of white beads rests on top of a dresser, with something else shining white in the middle of it. Rilian moves closer and sees the white rock she picked up from the streambed. This one is not cut smooth, or in the shape of waves, as his blue one is. This one is a hundred smooth, slanted surfaces, each one burning with light like white fire, too solid and opaque to be a diamond, and lit from within. Rilian slowly, hesitantly, touches his fingers to its highest tip.
The music of the stars fills his ears, his heart. It's their song on the clearest of nights, when the future is peace and the dance is full of joy. Rilian stumbles back, because it's like hearing his mother's voice all over again, and he can't, he can't focus on that right now. But he knows he'll long for that song till the day he dies.
He always has.
He checks the rest of her room, eyes somewhat blind as he blinks away water. There is no one under her bed, in the wardrobe with the rest of her clothing, and the dresser drawers hold nothing, not even an extra pair of shoes.
He thinks about how much she's given away—the song this past rest-day, the laughter of the Squirrels and Birds and others, guidance to Jarmu, a spur to Drinian, and sweet company for himself. They have given her very little in return, at least as far as possessions go.
Rilian glances back at the rock, shining in the middle of the beads, and remembers it's for her sister, somewhere under the sea waters. He wonders for the first time how wealthy Ileana was in her world, and how much she gave up—not just her shape, nor a world where she knew the rules—to come on land, to find him.
Perhaps he'll ask her, when they find her.
There's nothing else in her room, and he goes out and closes the door.
He looks for her in the gardens, on the parapets where they watched the stars, down at the beach by the ships, and refuses to let himself entertain the motion that she might have gone back to the sea and swum away.
After all, where would Drinian be, if that were the case?
He even sends a Raven to check they clearing they'd gone once, and when the Raven returns it says it found no trace of Lady Ileana or Lord Drinian, but that the clearing had been wrecked, the ground dug up and turned to mud, the flowers all uprooted, tree branches snapped off, fire-burned rings in the ground, and the stream filled with mud and sticks. It must have happened some days ago, for the stream had already made its way around the obstacles.
Rilian remembers how he'd felt watched, there in the clearing eight days ago. He prays it's not connected.
But the viciousness there, the cruelty to the sailors and the cooks—even without Drinian to advise him, he can see a pattern of emotion and destruction.
A few minutes after the Raven takes his leave, a Leopard of the castle guard rushes up.
"We found something," he growls, voice sharp and quick with breathlessness. "The Captain's got her in the armoury."
Rilian runs flat out, arriving mere minutes later, glad the door is open, ducking in to see—
Peri sitting on the bench, face white and voice trembling. Rilian frantically looks around for Ileana, but there's only Peri, the Captain and the guards, and the empty benches. Rilian looks back and processes what Peri's saying.
"I don't remember, I don't remember anything. Tell me, where is she? Where's my lady? She was right there—"
"Calm down," and it's the Captain, stepping forward and gently stilling her gesturing hands. "Take a breath. Good. Take another. One more. No, don't speak, just breathe. Good. Now start at the beginning. What do you remember?"
"I went to go join them at their game," Peri sniffles, and Rilian remembers she's young, just barely starting. "My chores were done. My lady said she'd be hiding in a suit of armour, so I went to the one I'd thought most likely, and then the second, and the third—and there they were."
"Where? Can you tell me which part of the castle?"
"The hallway I woke up in, the history of Aslan's How on the wall—that one."
"Good. Thank you. Pereth, go and check that hall. Take a Bat and a Dog with you, and go over every stone in it. Every stone, you hear? Now," he turns back to Peri, voice going from sharp to soft and reassuring. "What happened next?"
"My Lady was in a suit of armour far too large for her, the one made for a Bear, and she said I could jump in with her, and we could keep each other warm—and Lord Drinian over in the corner started telling us to hush, but it's hard to get in a suit of armour quietly, and he was grumbling about people following my scent, when they'd worked so hard to hide theirs—and then I heard it."
"What was it? Keep going, it's all right."
"It was—a terrible voice. The voice you imagine coming out of hollow, black oak trees, so strong but so rotten. It made my flesh creep, worse than my father's stories. I don't—I don't remember anything more. I don't remember what it said to me. It wasn't talking to me at first, that's why I remember it—I can't remember what it said to me!" She starts crying, pulling her hands out of the Captain's and covering her face. "When I woke up my lady was gone! And she wouldn't have just left like that, she said I could join! I know something's wrong with her, I know it! Oh, please, you have to find my lady!"
Rilian thinks of the sailors, the cooks. This must be the same. Maybe, maybe, Ileana and Drinian will be back tomorrow, a few cuts on their hands, and something else destroyed. Maybe.
"Captain. Your Majesty," says Pereth the guard from the doorway. A small crowd follows him in, but he comes straight to Rilian and hands him something small and cold. "We found this in the hallway, by the Son of Adam suit of armour."
Rilian takes it and looks. It's another small, diamond-shaped scale, a darker green this time. Not Ileana's, wrong shape and there wasn't any water there…
But his thoughts trail off, because—it's not like the Enchantress' who held him, her's shimmered and were a deep poison green. But it's the same shape. It's the same shape, and there were marks like a rope being dragged along at the beach, and it might not have been a rope at all, it might have been a long body winding through the sand, covered in these scales…
He closes his fingers over it. Then he forces them to relax, and wordlessly hands it to the Captain who came up. "Have all the Dogs and those who hunt by smell see if they can catch a scent off of this," he commands. The Captain nods.
Rilian pulls his mind away from the dark images it's summoning—Drinian in a silver chair, feet and wrists bound, or Ileana trudging along, joyless, forced to work without noise and without smiling—and focuses on finding them.
The Captain is already moving to mobilise a troop, or several, from the sound of things. But the King is distracted by a young, scared voice behind him asking, "What did they find?"
He turns to find Jarmu, Piram's hand on his shoulder, standing with fear on his face.
"What's gone wrong?" Piram asks, redirecting his cousin's question.
Rilian hesitates, but the boys might know something. "The Lord Drinian, and the Lady Ileana, have gone missing. We are looking for them."
"But that was the game," Jarmu objects, fists beginning to clench.
"Surely they're just hiding?" Piram adds.
"That is a possibility," Rilian says, because it is, and it might reassure them. Still, it is better to tell the truth, if to tell it gently, so he finishes with, "but it is a small one. There was a witness to a few events that led us to believe there may be more to their absence."
"Then we need to find her." Jarmu's voice is sharp and certain, and he's already turning to go, but his cousin stays him.
"How can we help?" Piram asks instead.
Rilian considers. They are both boys still, not yet men, and Jarmu has a talent for trouble, not trustworthiness. But perhaps that very talent may let him find something others would miss, and the more eyes the better. "You are still not permitted to many parts of the Cair. If both of you will give me your word—and you had better keep it this time," he warns. "Your word, both of you, that you will keep to the places you are allowed, that you will not get underfoot, that you will listen to orders—then I would have you search, as you were searched for."
"But we've looked all those places," Jarmu objects, frustrated.
"They will have to be searched again," Rilian orders, keeping a hold on his temper. Somehow it is easier when there is so much weighing on him keeping his temper. It's easier to remember the importance of it. "If you will not help this way, then you may help from outside the Cair."
"We'll send the Dogs to look for news outside the Cair, and ask the Cats to collect gossip," Piram assures them both. He bows, and Rilian can see his fingers tighten on Jarmu's shoulder, forcing him down as well. "Thank you for your time, King Rilian."
Rilian lets them go, for truthfully he wants his attention fixed on the soldiers. The last soldier arrives, and he, the Captain, and the soldiers head for the hallway. They find it chaotic, filled with all manner of animals with keen noses, running around and sniffing. Rilian asks, and they say they caught Ileana and Drinian's scents, heading down the hallway, and they've sent a group of Dogs after it, but stayed because they keep getting hints of another smell, a strange one.
"Here, here!" a Lion growls. There's an instant stampede towards him.
"Ew! That's definitely something out of the ordinary."
"Smells rotting, almost," chirps a Kiwi bird.
"Like the vegetable heap by the gardens, the one where they toss the bad ones."
"That's it exactly!"
"It goes off this way!" a Dog calls, interrupting the chattering Birds, Cats, and Dogs. The Beasts lead and the soldiers follow. Down a hall, past the dungeons, into the garden, and then, Rilian realises with a sinking feeling, towards an apple tree by the wall. Rilian had let it be when Drinian pointed out the risk, for it was only a risk from inside the Cair, not outside. But the scent rubbed on the tree and over the branches, according to the Vulture, and those who could not fly began to run towards the gate.
Rilian climbs. He hoists himself up branch by branch, following the trail, trying to think like his enemy. One branch grew seven feet above the wall; he hangs himself by his hands, then lets himself drop. He goes to the other side of the wall, and there, tied around a parapet, is a rope.
Feet thump the wall behind him, and he turns to see the Captain standing, two soldiers just behind him dropping from the branch. "Down, Your Majesty?" the Faun asks, and Rilian nods. The Captain reaches for the rope before Rilian can, and lets himself down. Rilian tries not to pace while he waits his turn. He scans the horizon instead, but there's just forest, forest, the water, and the road to the town. Eventually the Captain reaches the ground and Rilian heads after him.
"The Vulture flew that way, Sire."
"Then off we go."
"It would be better to wait for the soldiers."
"The Vulture will be out of sight by then."
The Captain does not argue more, and Rilian suddenly misses Drinian fiercely, because Drinian would have. But for now, it saves time that he's the King and the Faun is a soldier.
They follow the black shape in the air, follow it away from the road and the town, towards the beach. Rilian hopes they'll catch up; when they reach the sand he doesn't need the Vulture anymore, because there's that long track like the drag of a rope. He begins running, looking forward—and realises with dread that it's headed for the water. Already the Vulture has begun circling, like it's lost the scent, and when Rilian reaches the water and splashes in, cold washing his ankles and feet, he can't see anything but water.
The Vulture lands on the bench. "The scent is old, my King," he croaks. "An hour old, at least. Unless the Beast stayed nearby, it is gone."
Rilian feels a curse rising to his lips, and he looks desperately around the shore.
"My King…"
"Yes?"
"There are two other scents here. One I do not know, but the other—Lord Drinian often comes to the tower where I roost, to look at the sea."
"Here! Here! It's this way, I caught it again!" comes a bark farther down the beach, and Rilian sees a pack of Dogs running straight towards them, noses to the ground.
"Your Majesty!" barks the pack in surprise, stopping just short of bowling them over.
"It's lost in the sea!" one Dog exclaims.
"Is it? It can't be!"
"But we—"
"What now?"
"Where have you come from?" Rilian asks.
"From the Cair. The Lady who smells like the sea and Lord Drinian—"
"Who smells old—"
"Left the Cair by the main gate. We lost their scent for a while, since the path down here's been travelled a lot today, but we picked it up again on the beach."
"And it ends here," Rilian says, defeated. He turns and looks at the sea again. "Spread down the shore, both directions," he orders, but he has little hope of them finding anything. Ileana can swim much further than a human could,even carrying an old man. And Drinian has been around the sea all his life. "You go with the group going that way," he tells the Vulture, pointing towards the ships. "You," and this to the Dog who has said the least, and who had found the scent stopped at the water, "stay here and tell all those coming where we went. They're to divide themselves and follow. We will go this way."
Rilian spends the rest of the night searching. They followed the shore till it reached the river, then lost a lot of time going up to the bridge to the mainland. The other group completely circled the island, the Vulture comes to tell him, and never caught a whiff of either scent.
They find nothing, and the Captain at last forces Rilian back to the Cair to rest and get food, promising to keep people searching.
Day 15
The next day Rilian forms search parties, sending word by Bird and Squirrel, to any part of Narnia within a night's travel. Narnians are quick to help, for the Lord Drinian is legendary hero—but the day goes by, Rilian checking each report in the tower as the Birds fly in, and there is nothing. He eats in the tower, addresses problems from the tower, and stays there till it is too dark for any more returns.
He spends the night in the library with Guhen, who has given up his research to check all the likely places up and down Narnia's coast a large snake might inhabit.
Day 14
One night, and it might, possibly, have been a prank. Rilian wakes in the library with an overwhelming ache in his neck, and the loss of his last hope that Ileana will be back, telling him this was all just a joke. There will still be search parties, because Rilian cannot bear to give up. And because he knows it is probably the last hope his friend and his…Ileana have. But it's harder to send them out with hope.
He feels the urge to go to her room, just to pretend, for a moment, that he's picking her up. That he'll knock on her door and see her smile.
Anything to get away from the fear.
It's a fear he hasn't felt before, not this deeply. It's not being chained in the dark; it's a different sort of helplessness. It turns his stomach.
He eats on white plates—the Cair finally has them again, the first shipment arrived in—and tries not to think about how Ileana may never use them. His stomach surges into his throat. He drops his fork onto the table and lets his head rest in his hands.
Ileana never meant to stay. Rilian knows that. Somehow he'd told himself that he'd accept her leaving, that it'd be okay after thirty days if she went back to the sea; that he would make her go back to the sea.
He'd keep her alive.
Now she is gone, and he might not be able to do either.
He pulls himself together enough to deal the case of some Badgers, to take in the reports from the Lone Islands that Calormen is taking in pirates—not that Rilian can do much more, Narnia is already trying to build up its fleet—but it feels like a thin facade of normality, of control, when his world is thrumming with fear. Ileana and Drinian—where could they go?
It's a relief when court is over. The Captain—who stayed through the entire court, and he's never done that before—insists Rilian eats lunch. Rilian counters with an order for the kitchen to pack a lunch. He changes into plain clothing and heads to the stable. Somehow it's not a surprise when the Captain is waiting, his own horse saddled, his own packed lunch poking from a saddlebag. Rilian mounts without saying a word.
Rilian sticks to the shoreline, because that's what gave him Ileana, and he's hoping and praying that somehow, it will do so again. They ride through the afternoon; in the evening he, the Captain, and two Birds that have been keeping a subtle eye on their King launch a small boat and row around the ships, down the shore, and back again. Rilian desperately hopes the change in perspective will show him something he's missed.
He doesn't see anything.
They go back to the Cair without the Captain even needing to point out that searching is pretty useless in the dark. Rilian knows it. He goes to the library, sinking exhausted into a chair by Guhen's table, and waits.
The Owl doesn't come. Rilian asks—surely, surely another person hasn't gone missing—and finds Guhen is flying over the forest, using his eyes and ears to search in the dark.
Rilian knows if he wants to search tomorrow, to be alert and awake, he needs to rest, so he hauls himself out of the chair and out of the library. He walks slowly to his room with his hand on the wall, tracing lines between stones, because if he focuses on the feeling under his fingers, he doesn't think. It lasts till he gets to his rooms. Then he throws his sandy boots across the room and sinks into bed. He doesn't expect to sleep.
But he does, and he dreams. He dreams of Ileana, always swimming away from him, and he's trying to follow, a shining blue rock clutched in his hand. He's not as fast as the Mermaid, but he keeps trying, keeps going forward, fighting the seaweed and the water, till he realises his lungs aren't burning and he can breathe underwater—he wakes. He's sweating, the sheets soaked and wet and tangled around him. He's breathing heavily. He gets up, going to open a drawer in the bottom of his wardrobe, and there's the rock. It isn't shining, it's just there. The King touches it with his fingertips.
Ileana's voice fills his ears and his heart. He can hear her, and he grabs the rock, sinking to the floor with it cradled in both fists, crying. He sobs at first, still panting, the rock smooth on the bottom against his palm, but the tips of the waves cut into his fingers, and he thinks of Ileana's cuts. The sobs become tears steadily falling, but breathing is easier.
Rilian falls asleep on the floor, still listening to her voice, still clutching the stone, and still crying for his helplessness and her pain.
He dreams of her in chains, and that is worse.
Day 13
No one speaks at breakfast. Rilian doesn't have words, not even to express his relief when there's no official business to take care of. All of Narnia seems to be joining in the search; word of mouth spreads faster than any messenger. That leaves no time for trouble, and Rilian is grateful, a shallow sort of gratitude that can't break through the fear, for the people he rules.
He searches the forest today, the Captain still quietly riding beside him. Rilian takes two Dogs, hoping for a scent. All morning, they find nothing. The Captain pulls four lunches from his saddlebags—Rilian had forgotten to ask for one—and they eat when the sun is highest and the Dogs are panting from the heat. There is no birdsong in the trees, Rilian realises, and looks up through the branches to the sky. He watches for a few minutes, and a Bird flies over. Several minutes later there is another one, flying in a search pattern.
He finishes his lunch quickly and joins them. His head points out, as he rides, that with this many people searching, the odds are high that someone will find something.
The part of him still scarred from ten years underground retorts that if there was something to be found, it would have been found by now. Searching feels as futile as pulling at the silver bracelets on the accursed chair had been—but he has to do it.
The Captain firmly turns them around as the sun is setting. Rilian, slumped over his horse, is too exhausted to argue.
He still goes to the library first, and checks the maps Guhen left out. He decides his route for the next day, searching the town and beyond it.
He goes to bed and is asleep before he takes his boots off.
Day 12
The town is busy the next day, though quiet. It's easy enough to search, for most Narnians welcome the King into their stores and homes, and those who don't quickly acquiesce when they see the Captain and two Leopards. By noon they're buying meat wrapped in bread from a stall and making their way beyond the town.
"Sire," the Captain says after a few hours, "may I ask something?"
Rilian waves him to go ahead.
"Why would they take the Lord Drinian and the Lady Ileana?" Rilian blinks. "If we know why, perhaps it would help us find where, Sire. I assumed they took Lord Drinian for political power, and the Lady incidentally, or, er, for—for an emotional sway. But there's been no demand for ransom, power, or bargaining, and I begin to think myself wrong."
Rilian thinks for a moment, staring down at his hands, the reins laying between his fingers. He'd assumed Ileana was the target. If it was Drinian—the only person or Beast he'd upset recently was that Ambassador.
That Rilian knew of. Drinian had a way of upsetting the pretenders or pretentious.
"The main reasons to cause malicious harm are greed, anger, hate, and control," the Captain continues.
"The only one I can think of is that Calormene—but I think his desire for power outweighs any reason he'd have to take Drinian—or Ileana. Unless they can benefit him—oh, Aslan have mercy. She can. And does he—he does, he knows."
"Sire?"
Rilian reins in his horse. "Ileana is a Mermaid."
"She's—she is?"
"We've got to get back to Cair. Ho, the trees!"
"Sire?"
Rilian ignores him for the moment, scanning the treeline; a few moments later a Sparrow chick flutters out of the trees and lands on his horse's mane. The little bird tries to bow.
"Peace, little one, and thank you. Are there messengers in the trees, or those willing to act as such?"
"Yes, Your Majesty! Yes, I know her!"
"Fly to her and bid her come after us; we ride towards the Cair." Rilian holds out his hand, and gently shoves the Sparrow aloft. Then he wheels his horse and begins a fast trot back towards home.
The Captain lets them ride in silence for several paces before he brings his horse up alongside the King's. "Sire, may I ask why her being a Mermaid changes things?"
Rilian realises that, of course, the Captain has not read (or heard from Guhen) the tales of the Galman Mermaids, nor has he seen Ileana cry. "When Mermaids cry, their tears are pearls."
There's a sharp indrawn breath beside Rilian, and a few moments of silence. "Does the Ambassador know this?"
"I do not know. He could—it is possible he knows Ileana is a Mermaid, for he stood at the court, and I saw him, just after I had told Fourlegs she came from the sea." Rilian closes his eyes. "The books were disturbed the very next night."
"The books?"
"One of the library scholars has been looking into the lore of Mermaids for me."
"Wise, Sire. And it mentioned—"
"Indirectly." Rilian feels a little of the tension relaxing. "Only indirectly. So it may not be the Ambassador. But I would study his actions and find what he has been doing." He knows he's clutching it desperately, a hope when he has none, but he cannot help himself.
"I do not think it is the Ambassador," the Captain says after a moment. "Begging your pardon for disagreeing with you, Sire."
"Why?" Rilian shuts his eyes for a brief second. "Your pardon. My manners are not at the best right now. But I would hear why you think so."
"The way they were taken. Unless Calormen has powers we do not know of yet, how could the Ambassador make the maid fall asleep, or turn the two so they walked of their own free will to the sea? I had thought magic must be involved."
"And if the Ambassador had such magic, he'd have used it on the King, not the Councillor," Rilian thinks out loud, though in his head the words are in Drinian's voice.
He misses his friend.
He misses the lady of the sea.
He misses how they would both help him solve this, for he feels inadequate on his own.
"But it is something to try, Sire," the Captain adds quietly, and Rilian wonders if his own disappointment was so clear the Captain is now trying to comfort him.
A Wren dives before him, wings out to flare to a stop, and lands gently on his saddle. "Your Majesty."
"Good cousin, I would ask you to fly to Cair Paravel, and ask the Keeper of the Roost—in the Northwest Tower, if you have not been there before—to send and see if the Calormene Ambassador has done anything strange these past—" he breaks off, because it suddenly hits him, how long Ileana has been gone.
"Four days," the Captain finishes for him.
"Four days. Tell them we come after. If your wings still have strength, fly their answer back to us; if you need to rest, have them send another Narnian."
"At once!"
Rilian lifts his arm to shove her off, but she is airborne before his arm is half extended. He follows her flight with his eyes; she is out of view a few seconds later.
"Four days," he mutters to himself, and feels a hand on his arm.
"Even the Lion we follow spent a night dead before the Emperor raised him to life. Trust their lives to Aslan."
Rilian glances over, surprised, and finds the Captain's gaze steady. He tries to smile, but it feels flat. "You are a good choice for a leader."
The Captain squeezes once and removes his hand. "So are you, Your Majesty. Do not lose that, when you need it most."
Rilian closes his eyes—the horse will follow the road—and lets the words settle. He is called to be Narnia's King, in every circumstance; this one too.
He spends the remaining time fighting the fear as best he can by remembering the things the Lion has done. And if his heart whispers that sometimes the Lion does not send a rescue for ten years, he sternly reminds himself that the rescue still came.
An hour and a half later, just as they're approaching the town, the Wren dives onto his saddle once more. "Your Majesty!"
Rilian reins to a stop. "Go on!"
"The Ambassador has not been seen for four days! His rooms are empty, he has not been seen anywhere eating, and none of the servants questioned remember his presence."
Rilian and the Captain trade glances. "The Dogs," the Captain says.
"At once." Rilian turns back towards the trees, thinking to get another messenger, but the Wren flares her wings.
"Let me! Let me!"
"You just flew—"
"My wings are strong, and I know what it is to be missing. Let me help, my King."
"If you think you can. Tell them to take some of the Ambassador's belongings and use them to track his scent. If they are ready before we arrive, let them go, and leave word about their direction at every turn, that we may follow. Would you like an assist?"
She nods this time, and jumps on his arm. As soon as he throws her high, he begins riding.
The hunters are gone by the time the King makes it through the town and back to the Cair, but they left word. The Ambassador went to the stables, and the horse he chose has its own peculiar scent, at least to the most sensitive of noses. They followed it into the forest.
The Kiwi Bird stayed behind, with four horses saddled and ready. He leads the Rilian by tracking the scent of the hunters.
But they have not ridden for more than an hour before they meet the hunting party returning, the Ambassador riding in their midst.
And no Ileana.
Rilian feels his heart sink. He'd been so sure, so hopeful—and she was still missing. Both his friends were.
"Greetings, o wise barbarian King. I understand my absence caused some confusion. Forgive me; when I heard the most beautiful of ladies was missing, I hoped to find her and rescue her, if she needed it."
Rilian just looks at him. He has no logical reason to question his word, but his heart is shouting that the Calormene lies.
Then again, his heart has never liked this man, and fear and jealousy often blind the eyes and mind.
"Have you found anything?" the Captain asks.
The Ambassador shakes his head mournfully.
"Then I would speak with you tomorrow, to make sure we do not cover two areas twice," Rilian says abruptly. It will allow him to question a little more closely. "Till then, we should return. The sun is setting."
Once again, he turns to go back.
And tries not to cry, for he is King, and his men are watching.
Day 11
Rilian's nightmares swamp him with vivid fears. Ileana with chains around her wrist, tears falling down her face and dropping to the sand in tiny white spheres. Always, always, she is singing, singing the song of the stars, begging for the freedom of the sky, remembering that stars banish shadows. Rilian cannot reach her, he can never reach, hold her, stop her tears, unchain her arms. He tries to sing with her, but his voice is not his mother's, and he only drowns out her song.
Rilian wakes and realises there's tears on his own face. He scrubs them away, dresses himself, and goes to meet the Ambassador.
Who is calmly sitting and eating breakfast, lifting spoonful after spoonful of honeyed porridge into his mouth. Rilian thinks of eating, and his stomach turns.
But he takes a seat, and the Ambassador rises and bows. "Greetings, o glorious King."
"Please be seated. I would hear of your search. Where did you go? What leads did you follow? What did you find?"
"O King, I recalled the delight of this fairest lady in the flowers and trees of the garden, and so I thought to search all the fairest meadows. The lady also loved exploring, so I thought to go further and further inland. But alas, I found nothing. I heard nothing. A lady with such beauty must be remembered if she passes by. Yet I think it was that I was one man. If you, in your wisdom, decides to send out search parties farther inland, particularly where there are flowers—"
"Narnians are already searching, but I thank you for your pains." Rilian rises.
"You will not be eating?"
"I have no stomach for it."
"Ah. Perhaps once a few more storms hit your reign, you will have a stronger stomach."
Rilian looks at him sharply, and sees—the glint of a triumphant hunter, Ileana would perhaps say.
The Ambassador took another bite. "Though I too have lost something I would have liked, I know life too well to let it upset my meals. In time, that may come to you too, King of Narnia."
"Perhaps," is all Rilian will say, for he thinks the Ambassador is taking satisfaction from Rilian's pain, and the King has no wish to give him more. "Excuse me."
He goes out and goes straight to the leader of the hunting party to ask where they had followed the Ambassador's scent, and where they had found the actual man.
They found nothing at first, the leader says, but they caught a fresher trail passing the cottages for the winter fishing by the large lake. Anticipating the King's next question, the Lion said they'd caught no other scents. The Ambassador himself had been sleeping in the last cottage, the horse tied outside. Where he had been before that, they had no idea.
"Not far inland," the King murmurs to himself.
"No, but—he is a stranger. Perhaps he did not know how close or far he was. The sea is just out of sight, and if the wind blows outward…"
"Thank you, good cousin."
Rilian spends the morning looking around the cottage, hoping against hope to find something. But there is nothing—no scraps of food or freshly burned fires, but then, the Ambassador may have only stayed one night, Rilian reasons.
But he'd been sleeping surprisingly early, Rilian argues back. And there is nothing here, no extra clothes, no food, no fodder for the horse.
Rilian returns for lunch, and then goes back to the library, looking for the maps once again. He finds them as he left them, but he cannot concentrate for long. His mind keeps picturing the things that may be done, to make a Mermaid cry. He keeps wondering what was done to the two Mermaids in Galma. He thinks of asking Guhen; he doesn't know if he can. His mind keeps playing the possibilities over and over, till at last he forces his attention back to the maps. That, at least, is productive. He's trying to pick a new route for tomorrow when he hears a hushed "King Rilian!" from behind one of the shelves.
He looks up, but sees no one.
He knows, instantly, what Drinian would say to him taking such a risk; he knows it is unwise.
But he also knows that, if this is the cause of the kidnapping, perhaps getting kidnapped himself is the only way to find Ileana and Drinian. So he lets the scroll roll shut and quietly makes his way over to the shelf.
Jarmu crouches near the floor on the other side.
Rilian can feel his eyebrows furrowing, his mouth frowning. "What—"
"Shhhh!" Jarmu hisses. "I had to get past three guards to get here. I tried to tell them yesterday, but—no one believes me. Lady Ileana was right, it's not worth it, lying—but I'm telling the truth! You have to listen to me!"
Rilian looks at him, and he knows that desperation. He'd spoken words just as pleading, to two children and a Marshwiggle, while bound in a silver chair. "Speak," he says.
"I know where they are. I do!" Jarmu grabs Rilian's wrist. "I swear I heard them. I didn't go in—I kept my promise this time. I came back this morning. I didn't go by myself. I kept my word, but you—you have to come! You have to believe me! If you don't, I'm going myself!"
"Where?" Rilian asks, hand coming up to grab Jarmu's arm as Jarmu holds his. "Where?"
"You believe me?" Jarmu breathes a sharp exhale of relief, before blurting out the rest. "The caves—the ones in the cliff, right above the ones that get filled at low tide. Lord Drinian found me there once—I thought—no, wait!"
Rilian pauses, but it's hard. Hard not to just head right for the stables. "What?"
"We can't go at night. High tide fills the cave. I tried, I tried really hard to get to you earlier, but I couldn't make it."
"Then we swim."
"We swim and we die. I would have died, if Lord Drinian hadn't rescued me; the cave twists and turns, and it's completely dark. The entrance is underwater at high tide."
"Then we take boats, and wait till the tide rolls out. Also, I will send word to see if there's any Merfolk or Turtles nearby." Rilian takes one moment more to glance at Jarmu. "Do you need food, or a cloak?"
"Both. Please. And for Piram."
"Piram?" Rilian looks around, and Jarmu points towards the far end of the aisle.
"He's keeping watch, to make sure no one finds us before I got to talk to you."
"Then come with me. None will stop you when you're with the king." Rilian strides forward, clapping a hand on Piram's shoulder as he starts to bow. "We're getting you food, and getting things together. Come."
He heads first for the Captain, who begins putting together a troop, four boats, archers, and a few sailors—but doing it quietly, since they don't know what they'll be facing, and surprise should be on their side. He gives Jarmu and Piram strict instructions to lead them to the cave, but to hang back if there is any fighting.
Rilian sends for food for the whole troop, and cloaks for the two boys. The sailors tell them low tide won't be till early the next morning, and putting to sea now might risk the boats. The Captain tells everyone to get a few hours of sleep.
Rilian does not go back to his room; he sleeps in the bunks with the others, his sheathed sword beside his hand, and a prayer to Aslan the last thing on his lips.
A/N: I know, I know, I'm sorry. Does it help if I say I'm hoping to write the next chapter the day after I write this one?
