Brightly Woven (26 page)

“You haven’t been my mother in twelve years,” North said. “Not since Father died.”

She didn’t even flinch. “You have no idea how difficult this has been for me, Wayland. This title and position weren’t handed to me. I had to fight my way up every single day to bring honor and power back to our family. Funny how living with your magister all those years has caused you to forget that.”

“I’m sure Father would love to have seen you like this, destroying the country he cherished to take more power for yourself,” North said cruelly. “What a waste—just like it was a waste that he died saving me, correct? Just like I’m a waste, because I haven’t been ranked or done anything with my life. Isn’t that the real reason you’ve been fighting so hard to bring honor back to the family?”

“I knew it was a mistake to send you to Pascal,” she said, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have honored your father’s request. I should have kept you here, where I knew you’d be raised properly.”

“We’re not staying in the city,” North said again.

“You will, or I will throw you
both
in jail,” Hecate said. “You won’t take a step out of the city with that girl before I send every wizard at my disposal after you.”

North looked murderous. “Is that all?”

Hecate sat back down at her desk, picking up a piece of paper. “I expect to see you at the castle tonight for dinner, Wayland. Find Oliver to see where you’ll be quartering.”

“Yes, Mother,” North said mutinously.

He took my hand in a crushing grip and pulled me along after him. I glanced back over my shoulder, unsure if I should say something. I saw Hecate press her hand to her eyes just before North slammed the door shut behind us.

We practically flew down the hallways. I now knew why the wizards around us stopped to stare; it wasn’t simply because of our appearance or the anger radiating off North. It was because North was the son of the most powerful wizard in Palmarta. Everyone knew his story—his past, his failures.

Everyone but me.

I let North lead me outside and around the building, through a small back alleyway, and into a small, neglected garden. There were marble benches and statues, but the fountain in the center of the small enclave was dried out and filled with dirt, and the flower beds around us had withered to brown.

He sat down heavily on the nearest bench and finally released my hand. For a moment I was too stunned to do
anything other than watch the labored rise and fall of his chest. I wished I could see his face, but it rested in his hands.

“Forgive me,” he said through his fingers.

I knelt beside him, gently pulling his hands away. “What’s there to forgive?”

“I never should have brought you here,” he said. “If I had been thinking clearly, I would have kept you somewhere safe.”

“And you think I would have stayed there willingly?” I gave him a look of disbelief.

North shook his head. “Of course not. What was I thinking?”

“I wish you had told me about your mother sooner,” I said.

“And what would I have said?” he asked. “Mummy dearest is the Sorceress Imperial, she likes to drag others around by their hair, her husband died as Sorcerer Imperial and left her a powerless widow, and she hasn’t talked to me since I refused to be ranked and join the Guard?”

I shook my head. “You were only a little boy when you finished your schooling!”

North made a face. “I wasn’t a
little boy.”

“You were fourteen. She should have supported you, not disowned you!”

I sat back on my heels, studying his face. He wasn’t angry anymore, but there was an unmistakable look of grief about him. Resignation, too.

“I didn’t want that life,” he said. “I didn’t want any of this. I hate this city
so much
. Everyone here looks at me and thinks that I’m some sort of pathetic degenerate, that I can’t hear them when they talk about how I’ll never be my father, not now, not ever. Can you imagine someone with this curse becoming the most powerful wizard? Everyone respected him, everyone mourned his death. I promised him that I would look after her when he was gone, but she won’t listen. She can barely even
look
at me.”

I rested my hands against his knees, looking up at him. “Then let’s leave,” I said. “I’ll protect Cliffton any way that I can.”

“We can’t,” he said tiredly. “You heard what she said.”

“Since when does Wayland North give up?” I asked, grabbing his hands. “There must be a way.”

North shook his head. “Syd, I’ve been in jail before for disobeying her, and it’s not something I ever want you to have to imagine, let alone see.”

Dread was twisting my insides, wringing them out until there was nothing left but fear.

“You’ll be safe,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I don’t care what happens to me,” I cried. “I’m worried about you!”

North shook his head again. “Listen to me,” he said. “We’ll both be all right.”

“What about the war—?”

“I won’t stop trying,” he said. “I won’t ever stop.”

He ran his fingers along the bracelet he had given me.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

He nodded, his face turned toward the long shadows of the castle.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

B
y the time we finally passed through the castle gate, the throngs of people gathered in the courtyard were overwhelming. North took my hand after a moment, when it became clear he might lose me in the crowd. We were heading toward the castle’s enormous marble entrance when North caught sight of a familiar face.

“Owain!” he called.

“Made it out of there alive, eh?”

Some heads turned, and several voices leapt to greet him at once. North’s face brightened when he realized he was among friends.

“Why is everyone out here?” I asked, standing on my toes.

“The queen went down to address the wizards on the banks,” Owain said. “It’s her first state outing now that the
mourning period for the king’s death is over. People are curious to see her.”

Another wizard took North’s arm. “All that rot aside, tell me straight, North—is what Owain told us true? A wizard poisoned the king?”

“Yes,” North said, and a few of the other wizards began to groan and mutter. “Not that it matters. I tried to give the information to Oliver and the Sorceress Imperial, and they practically threw it back in my face.”

“What in the seven hells for?” the other wizard demanded.

“They’ve wanted to fight the war all along, to grab power from the queen,” North said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know who’s worse,” someone else said. “Our leaders or Auster’s.”

“The Sorceress Imperial is taking advantage of the situation,” said North. “Of the queen and all of the Salvalites.”

“I was wondering if it was just a coincidence that they want to invade this year,” the first wizard said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“This is the year the worshippers of Salvala believe the goddess will return,” North explained. “I’ve read their scripture and so has Hecate. When they ‘align the tribes to destroy the heathens,’ they’re supposed to be granted a ‘great weapon’ to take the world back from Astraea. That’s what Auster is counting on in this dispute: help from its goddess.”

I turned toward him, surprised and curious. “Does it really say that?”

Why does it always have to come to this?
I wondered. Time and time again the differences between the sister goddesses had been fought in wars, most of them unnecessary. Would the goddesses themselves have wanted that, and would they have kept up their rivalry if they had known how long its consequences would last?

North opened his mouth, only to be cut off by three loud knocks and the great groan of the gate’s doors as they were dragged open. An instant hush fell over the crowd. Four guards rode out in front of the ornate white carriage, followed by another four at the rear. The horses were brought to a halt just short of the stairs; Oliver and the Sorceress Imperial seemed to materialize out of thin air, making their way through the courtyard to greet the queen on her return.

Two attendants appeared and announced, “Her Majesty, Queen Eglantine.”

My heart was racing with so much excitement I thought it was in danger of leaving my chest. I stood on my toes, leaning forward to catch a better glimpse of the queen. North held out his arm to steady me.

The Sorceress Imperial met a prim-looking man as he came down the marble stairs. He was a lean man, well into middle age, his expression as sharp as the tip of his nose.

“That’s Pompey, one of the queen’s human advisors,”
Owain whispered to me. “He’s the head steward of the castle.”

Oliver opened the door to the carriage, offering his arm to the queen.

All girls, at one point or another, have fancy dreams of becoming princesses, but few have the poise and grace required for such a title. Queen Eglantine’s enormous, diamond-studded dress didn’t weigh her down in the slightest, and it seemed to me that she glided rather than walked, almost floating past the crowds. She held her head impossibly high, and her silky golden hair—so fair it was practically white—shone in long tendrils down her back.

She didn’t even glance our way. Her eyes were on the ground as Oliver leaned over to whisper something in her ear. The wizard looked pleased with himself, with the queen’s arm tucked beneath his own as he led her along.

At the stairs, she turned around, looking as if she wanted to say something to the crowd. Instead, the Sorceress Imperial took her other arm. She, Oliver, and the queen spoke in low voices as they began their ascent, turning only at the top of the staircase to look back over the crowd.

“Ah, it seems that you’ve been noticed, lad,” Owain said.

He nodded toward the stairs. Oliver and the queen were both staring in our direction, heads bent together. Oliver was speaking into her ear—I didn’t miss the way his hand rested intimately on top of hers—but the queen said nothing. She nodded, her face tense. Pompey stood nearby.

North muttered something under his breath and kept his eyes down until the queen at last entered the castle and the crowds began to disperse.

“I’m heading back to the inn,” Owain said. “You folks coming?”

North shook his head, nodding at Pompey.

“I believe that’s our minder for the evening,” North said. The man’s eyes widened in recognition, and he waved us forward.

“Good luck with that,” Owain said, clapping North on the shoulder. “Come find me tomorrow, and we’ll have a chat.”

The steward reached us just as Owain disappeared into the sea of men and wizards.

“Pompey,” North greeted him.

“It’s been so long, Mr. North! Your mother has asked me to escort you to your chambers, but I’m sure you remember the way.”

“Remember the way?” I repeated, looking up at him.

“I lived here before going to train with Magister Pascal, remember?”

I could have strangled him. “Yet another thing you conveniently forgot to mention?”

He tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “I know this castle inside and out.”

“Are there any other secrets I should know about?” I asked. “Cousins? Secret rooms?”

He leaned in, grinning mischievously. “None of those,” he said. “But there is a tapestry room—
and
a weaving room.”

“Will you take me?” I was begging, but I didn’t even care.

He laughed again. “I’m afraid if I take you, you’ll never want to leave.”

“You’re right—”

“Sydelle?”

I turned around slowly. North’s hand came up to rest protectively on my back.

“Sydelle? Is that you?” Even in the darkness I could make out the familiar shape of his face. My heart dropped into my stomach.

“Henry!” I said, walking toward him in a daze. He flung his arms around my neck, laughing. “Are you all right—have you heard anything from home?”

He hugged me so tightly he actually lifted me from the ground, then we held each other at arm’s length. I tried to match my smile to his grin, but I felt like I could scarcely breathe.

“One question at a time!” he said, laughing.

“Is everyone well, at least?” I asked. “How are your brothers? What about my parents?”

“Everyone is right as rain,” Henry said. “And speaking of rain—”

“Syd!” North barked. I turned around, startled by his tone. He and Pompey were still standing where I had left them, both looking cross. I turned back to Henry apologetically.

“I’ll come find you later, all right?” I said.

“All right,” he agreed, smiling. “I’m holding you to that.”

I nodded, but my own smile slid slowly down my face upon seeing the wizard’s eyes turned away from me, back to the ground.