Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords Book 3) (11 page)

I’m not even from the Outer Rings. What happens when they find out? I’m about to show my face to an entire group of people who view me as one of their own—some kind of hero. I falter on a cobblestone, but stay straight and regain my measured gait. The scene before me tightens and stretches. I wonder if these people can tell I'm an inch away from screaming. A whispering noise overrides my senses. Are the crowds drawing closer? No. I force another breath out. It’s in my head!

I put my hand in my pocket and grab a pinch of material. I roll it between my fingers and focus on the texture. Soft … malleable. This is part of the plan. I want people to find out. I can’t control everyone else. I don’t want to—even if I could—because that would make me like my mother.

It will work out.

I release another breath, refusing to let it shake on its way out. The crowds move back … if they were ever really close in the first place.

* * *

I hoist my pack up as I stand at the last gate outside the barracks. It’s just past dawn, but everyone in the barracks is all gathered there with me.

“You didn’t have to get up. I’ll see you in two days,” I grumble half-heartedly. Avalanche sweeps me up in a crushing hug. My nervousness about what I’ll be doing when I next see them makes my stomach revolt. The force of the hug threatens to make me sick. Shard gives me a searching look.

Ice bends and taps my nose. “On with ya, girly. I’ll be following your
followers
to flush out the rat.” I exchange an evil snigger with him. He’d taken up this spying job with gusto. There’d been several young boys and girls darting in and out of the barracks yesterday—Ice’s network. And now Ice was going to follow me home to see who my tails worked for. It was odd thinking about them following me, and Ice following them. I hope no one followed Ice.

“You better leave if you want to get back to the castle before nightfall,” Alzona murmurs, half asleep. I wonder if she was up all night making plans after I told her the brothel was on board.

I heave a sigh and start down the alleyway, resisting the urge to check the rooftops for spies. They were just amateurs—according to Ice. My heart tugs in my chest as I leave the barracks. I look over my shoulder and see my friends watching me. Avalanche waves. I lift my hand in farewell.

It’s still there. The temptation. The urge to bury my head in the dirt and pretend nothing is wrong. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that things—or a certain person—have a way of finding you no matter how hard you try to hide. You can only delay the inevitable for so long.

I take careful note on my journey back to the castle. Maybe it’s because Shard put the thought in my mind, but there’s a tension through the pitted ruins of the Outer Rings I hadn’t noticed before. More screams pierce the air than I remember, and low whispers follow my retreat from the barracks. All is not well in the Outer Rings.

I see further evidence of this when I reach the Middle Ring by midday. The people here are furtive, darting glances around all the while as they keep the hoods of their cloaks raised, hurrying to get business done. I veer off my previous pathway out of curiosity, and discover several blocks of Middle Ring homes, destroyed by fire, just as Willow described. The windows of many other blocks are broken, the shelters emptied. I’d heard the advisor’s reports. But it was so much worse than that. Seeing the destruction and feeling the general dissent forces me to acknowledge this uprising is very real. And very dangerous. No wonder Jovan had been so resistant to me leaving alone.

I trek through the Inner Ring as the light is fading. The Inner Ring is the only place seemingly untouched by the revolt. Then again, the night is young, and I only pass two Bruma on the way. The rest are probably locked in their homes, knowing they’re next.

I take a tangling dance through the assembly lodgings, pausing at intervals to make sure I haven’t been followed. Ice told me he’d make sure the tags didn’t follow me past the Inner Ring, but I want to be safe, just in case. I replace my veil when in sight of the castle.

The king is waiting for me at the gate this time. I shriek when I’m a few meters from him, not expecting his presence just yet.

“Solis, Jovan. You scared me.” Usually I’m summoned. Is it just coincidence he’s here? Has he been waiting, or did one of his men alert him?

“Where have you been?” he says, jaw clenched. He leans down until we’re face-to-material. He has to bend a fair way to do so.

“I told you I’d be a few days,” I hedge.

“You said two.”

“Or three,” I correct. I slide the straps of my pack off my back. Jovan takes the bundle as I roll my shoulders.

“Thanks.” I trudge beside him into the castle. I peek up and find he’s looking at me too. My heart races, as always, and I face forward. The whole forgetting my feelings for Jovan thing isn’t going well. In fact, the feelings seem to intensify each time I see him.

“Were you successful?” he asks after a few moments.

I listen to our surroundings for eavesdroppers while rubbing the tightness in my neck. Most of the tension is from training the day before. Maybe I’ve grown soft, like Shard was teasing me. I’d have to add an hour on to what I was already doing in my quarters.

I bring the king up to speed on everything that happened over the last three days. Everything except the self-defense classes, which I want to trial first. I hesitate over what I’ve found out about Blaine and I need to tell him.

“Jovan … about Blaine,” I start.

He sighs and leans against the wall. “Can we talk about it later?”

I blink. Really, I want to insist he listens now, but at least he’s receptive to some kind of discussion, even if it’s tomorrow. “Okay,” I agree. A yawn attacks me.

“You’re tired. I can have food sent to your room if you’d like,” he says. I smile up at him—though he can’t see it.

“I’m actually longing for a bath,” I say truthfully.

Something happens when I say “bath.” The air tightens around us. It’s as if my insides contract and swirl, all at the same time. It’s happened before, several times, but perhaps I didn’t recognize it for what it was. I don’t know how my mind has leaped from bath to thinking about Jovan without clothes. But it does. The king leans in, eyes contemplative. I acknowledge the feeling for what it is.

Hunger.

I should move. The same reason which had me walking
away
from the barracks today, instead of running back, is screaming at me to be responsible. Step back, push him away, or clear your damn throat. Do something!

I stay frozen. I was able to walk away from the barracks, but right now leaning away from Jovan requires more strength than I have.

I twist away, though he has yet to touch me, and place a hand on the stone wall of the hallway to steady myself so my knees don’t buckle—because I’m reeling with a dreadful discovery. I don’t just have feelings for Jovan, I—

“My King, a message has arrived from Minister Harris,” a watchman interrupts. I close my eyes, hoping our display wasn’t witnessed.

“Bring it to my chambers.” Jovan’s voice sounds unsteady. Is he as affected as I am? “And send order to the kitchens for a bath to be drawn for the Tatuma in her chamber.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly without looking at him. I can’t. Surely he will know what I’m thinking if I face him.

“Always,” he says.

* * *

The bath is incredible. Pure, unadulterated bliss. I reach for my veil as the door creaks open.

“Only me,” Olandon murmurs from behind the screen. I relax back in the tub. It’s been well over an hour. I should get out.

“I’ve got food for you,” he says. There’s an edge to his voice I don’t understand.

I stand up and water drips from me in noisy splashes, sloshing over the sides. “Is something the matter?” I ask.

“The king of Glacium treats me like a common lackey. Even if you are my sister, he has no right to order me around. I was going to bring you food myself before he even said to.”

I bite back a laugh. It seems Jovan has found the perfect way to get under my brother’s skin. My brother’s anger is adorable. It reminds me of young Olandon, before he got moody and contemplative.

“And someone is playing tricks on me,” he continues as I dry myself with a fur.

“Oh?” I prod.

“Ashawn thinks it must be one of the kitchen staff, though this does not feel right to me. The pranks are harmless, but it is hardly respectful.” I listen as he storms about the room. When he finds out it’s Ashawn pranking him, he’ll be furious.

“Indeed, brother. Do you think they do it because you are Solati?” I ask.

“They don’t do it to you,” he says. “Do they?”

"No," I reply and clutch my stomach in laughter, still out of sight, as he resumes his furious pacing. His footsteps scrape on the stone flooring. “Well, why would they only do it to you?” I pull on fresh clothing and round the screen to see his bewildered expression.

“I don’t know,” he says. “What do I care what a Bruma thinks of me anyway?” he scoffs.

I push my hair up into a low knot. “I thought you might care what one person in particular thinks, actually.”

Olandon stiffens, his face horrified. I mock frown. “Brother, I was only teasing.” But now I know there
is
some truth to Ashawn’s comment the other day—someone, a woman, had been ‘taking care’ of my brother—whatever that means. I’ll be interrogating Fiona for the truth. I turn to the pear and biscuits before me, wondering if Jovan made the plate up for me.

I place a hand on Olandon’s arm. “Please, brother. Tell me of these pranks. We’ll see if we can get to the bottom of it all.”

* * *

I burst into laughter, throwing myself back on the bed. “You stepped in what!”

A reluctant grin spreads across my brother’s face. “It seems funny now, but I can assure you it wasn’t at the time. I thought I was protecting the castle by stamping out the fire. Then I am rewarded with animal leavings on the sole of my boot.”

I think it’s ‘animal leavings’ that tips me over the edge. I roll around on the bed, lost in a fit of giggles. Olandon eventually gives up and laughs with me.

We munch on the last of the fruit and settle into companionable silence. The diet here is much heavier than I’m used to. The food we’ve just eaten would be considered a mere snack to a Glacium warrior.  On Osolis, we stick to a diet of nuts, vegetables, and fruit, with very little meat. I smile when I catch Olandon studying my face. He does this a lot when we’re alone and I wonder what he’s searching for. It’s times like these, when he relaxes, that I feel I'm with the brother I knew as a child. It’s when I feel this closeness that I can pretend everything is like it was before Kedrick, the delegation, and all of the mess since then. Though now there are some parts I don’t want to forget.

“There is much I must tell you, sister. Things I should have told you when I first regained consciousness,” he says guiltily.

The lingering smile falls from my face. “Tell me. Just please tell me the twins are okay first.” My mind had been running rampant while waiting for him to confide in me.

He grabs my hand as my heart thuds in my chest. “They were fine when I last saw them. What I have to tell you is bigger than us, or our family.”

I stroke his hair back, as I used to when he was young. He hasn’t allowed me to do so in the last few years, but he lets me do it now. His reassurance about the twins is dubious. If something happened to them, I don’t know if I could come back from the loss. It must require a tremendous amount of strength to return to yourself as Jovan has, after losing family members.

“Mother is starving our people,” he says, eyes squeezed shut. My hand stops, arm frozen in the air. I stare at my brother in disbelief. He opens his brown eyes and I see he believes he’s telling the truth.

“For years. That’s why the stores are so big. We’ve been fooled, sister. The happiness we see on the migration back to First Rotation is planned to keep Mother’s court complacent. Not that they’d care” He hangs his head.

“I saw a great deal on my journey,” he whispers.

“She—” I croak. I don’t understand. I knew she’d been stockpiling for the war. I never realized she was doing it by slowly starving our people! I thought she was sowing more seeds, not killing innocent Solati. Once again, my mother’s cruelty steals the ground from under me. I’m shocked. I should be past this astonishment by now. But I can’t fathom how someone could be so heartless and without mercy.

“She feeds them enough to work and survive. The villagers told me the rations were lowered so gradually they didn’t really notice until last year when the peace delegation arrived. The Tatum started taking more and more from them.” Olandon struggles to hold back his emotion. I don’t even bother to hold back my own as I wonder if it was my friendship with Kedrick that tipped the balance.

His voice cracks as he continues. “Your capture was the last straw. You were their hope. You still
are
their hope. When you were taken, they weren’t angry—they were desperate. They began to speak out against Mother.”

“They rebelled?” I whisper. I need to know. All this time they’ve been suffering, and I've been living in relative comfort.