Fantasy of Flight (25 page)

Olandon is deeply shocked. I can sense the slight disapproval emanating from him by how he leans slightly away from me. The others focus on their meals.

Rolling my eyes, I make my way to the food benches and gather up some fruit for both of us. I hesitate and grab some meat for my brother, too. I doubt he’ll eat it, though it will help him recover. It’s worth a try.

He surprises me by near inhaling it. I return and get more for him. Sadra watches him and stops him halfway through his second plate, urging him to be cautious. He listens.

“You know these people well,” Olandon says. I peek at him. He is more disturbed by my revelation then I thought. Has it been so long I’ve forgotten the importance of our customs? It’s just different here. I do things on Glacium I would never consider doing on Osolis - I’ve adapted.

“I do. You don’t recognize these men? They are the delegates from Osolis,” I say. My brother jerks in his seat. The equivalent of exploding from sitting to standing on our world. He’s done it twice today already.

“These men took you hostage and you still allow them to drop your title?” he asks.

“I suppose it does sound bad when you put it that way.” I laugh. It works, the tension at the table dissipates somewhat.

“That’s because it is bad. They treated you - the next-to-rule - like some kind of villager,” Olandon says.

“Brother,” I warn, “much has happened since Kedrick’s death. Much you don’t know of yet. I will ask you to reserve judgement until we have a better chance to talk.”

It is his turn to flush, red-faced. He dips his head. “As you say, Tatuma.”

Fiona speaks up, breaking any remaining tension. “How long will we be in here?”

“Not long, my flower. The guards should be done soon,” Sanjay says giving her a loud kiss. Adnan punches him when the kiss goes on too long.

“They do that a lot, the punching thing. It means they like you,” I explain to Olandon. The table stares at me. Malir scratches his head.

“Huh,” he says, “I suppose it does.”

I smile at him and look towards a disturbance in the archway. I’m half standing before I can help it. Rhone has appeared. Kaura sits by his side. Of course he was allowed to wander the castle while the rest of us were kept in here. He must have been in the kennels.

I leap up from the bench and whistle her. Will she remember me?

Her furry head whips in my direction. I see her sniffing the air. Then she’s flying down the middle of the tables toward me. Laughing, I open my arms to welcome her. Just before I can hold her, a body stands in front of me. Kaura halts and arches her back, growling.

“Landon, what are you doing?” I ask.

“That thing is attacking you,” he says, not taking his eyes off my beloved pet.

I signal to Kaura to back down. “She’s mine,” I say.

I step around my brother and bowl her to the ground in a hug. Kaura whines, beating her tail ferociously against my side. She rolls onto her back and wiggles side to side just like she used to.

“Kaura is my puppy. Well, I suppose she’s a dog now,” I explain to my silent brother. She licks my hands, my arms. Any of my bare skin. I hug her to me, tightly. Her unconditional acceptance of me after my disappearance means so much.

“I love you, girl. I’m sorry I left you,” I scratch her belly while she kicks a leg. “Isn’t she cute,” I say over my shoulder.

“I’m not sure,” Olandon says. Kaura growls at him as I pull myself back onto the bench, closer to him.

“She’s not sure of you either.” I smile at his offended expression.

The castle is cleared by lunch. My brother has been silent for the last two hours. I think it’s a mixture of shock and exhaustion. This time he accepts the help of a Watchman to get back upstairs.

In our room, the man sets Olandon on the bed and pushes back his helmet.

“Ashawn!” I say. “What are you doing here?” He shrugs. As well as someone in armor can shrug. The Watch usually only wears a chest plate and open helmet in the castle. Why is he in full armor?

“This is my punishment. I must guard you and wear armor for the duration of your stay,” he explains. I grimace. That won’t be comfortable.

“What are you being punished for?” Olandon asks. I quickly nip this line of conversation in the bud. There’s no way my brother will forgive the Prince for beating me. I don’t want to set up more tension between our worlds than I’ve already caused with Jovan.

“Something for which he has apologized and is making right,” I say. A faint sense of unease teases me, but I cannot put my finger on what bothers me.

Olandon eyes him from where he’s swaying. “You helped me last night,” he says.

I inhale slowly. I’m fighting frustration at the way he is talking. If he wants to be introduced why doesn’t he just ask?

“Olandon, this is Prince Ashawn. Ashawn, this is my brother Olandon. Who would also be considered a Prince on Osolis,” I say with a wave between them.

Comprehension dawns on my brother’s face. “Ah, yes. That is who he reminds me of. He looks like Prince Kedrick.”

Ashawn stiffens and shifts a little.

Olandon covers a yawn as he gets into the furs. “I liked Kedrick. We sparred together several times. I’m sorry he’s dead,” he slurs. The sound of his steady breathing soon fills the room. I doubt he even knew what he was saying.

Ashawn chuckles. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone fall asleep that fast. What happened to him?” he asks.

I shrug. “He hasn’t been well enough to speak at length yet. But I imagine he came through Oscala without a map,”

“What’s Oscala?”

“The Great Stairway,” I explain.

He makes a sound of surprise. “That would be a story to hear.” Ashawn lowers his visor and clangs to the door. “I’ll be just outside if you need anything.”

The reason for my uneasiness comes to me.

“You’re not going to play any pranks on me are you?” I call.

“Not on you,” he says elusively.

I walk over to cover Olandon in furs and laugh quietly. A few pranks might be just what my brother needs.

It takes Olandon another week before he is able to leave the room for small portions of the day. Greta drops off fresh clothes for him. She seems to have taken an interest, though my brother seems a little scared of her bold attitude. Fiona thinks it’s hilarious.

“I didn’t have a map,” Olandon says as we walk down to the training yard. When I first mentioned the training yard, I saw the first glint of intrigue in my brother’s eyes since his arrival.

I stuff the ends of my veil beneath my tunic as Ashawn pulls the door open and the wind gusts around us. Olandon is dressed in a long fur coat which Bruma would normally wear in the depths of the Third Sector. He’s still shivering in this. I’m only in my short-sleeved tunic and barely feel the cold. I’m a hardened Bruma now, I smile.

“Yes, I know,” I say. And then the dam breaks. “You’re an idiot! What were you thinking?” I sound like Jovan. I remember what his voice sounds like though we haven’t exchanged a word since the night of Ashawn’s confession.

“You could have been killed and I would never have known until I got back,” I say, refocusing on my brother.

I stop a short distance from the females already gathered to watch the training.

Olandon looks at the ground, hands clasped behind his back. “I think I went a bit insane when you were taken.” He clears his throat. “At first I thought you had run off with Kedrick to Glacium. This is what mother told us. Even I temporarily accepted her attempts to discredit you. But then Kedrick’s body was found. She tried to keep it from me, from everyone, but I discovered the truth. I finally saw her manipulation for what it was.”

He takes my hand in both of his. “Lina. You will never know the dread I felt in that moment where I thought mother had you killed alongside the Prince.” He looks over to the snow-covered mountains visible from the walkway. “I accused mother of your murder. She was so adamant in her denial.” He looks down at me and my breath catches at the pain I see there.

“I didn’t know if she told a lie or the truth, but you were gone and my mind refused to accept your death. I came to decide you were exiled. It was the only conclusion I could accept,” he says, “For months I searched Osolis. In every dark corner and village hovel. You would have been proud of me. I made friends with some of the poor.”

His eyes flash with dark amusement. “Did you know there were riots after your disappearance?” This news has me reeling. How badly have they been revolting? I fear interrupting his story will make him stop.

“I didn’t think so,” he mutters. “Mother would have kept it quiet to prevent us from appearing weak. It wasn’t the safest time for a royal to travel. The villagers knew, you see. They had seen the delegates dragging away your unconscious form to the Oscala. They were calling for Bruma blood, for war, desperate to seek vengeance for the loss of their favorite royal, and their hopes for a future under your rule.”

Olandon was yet to make the main connection. The war hadn’t been sought by the villagers. I always assumed mother would leap on the fact the delegates took me hostage. She could use this to convince the people to fight. But what she’d done was brilliant in its perverseness. Why convince the people when you didn’t have to? She’d manipulated the Solati people into begging for a war and then, playing the role of generous ruler and grieving mother, had yielded to their demands. She got what she wanted, and gained the loyalty of the villagers. The situation was direr than I suspected.

Olandon continues. “I went to Aquin, already knowing I was going to go to Glacium and get you back. But the old man wasn’t the same when I got there.”

“Is he okay?” I ask, mouth dry.

Olandon grips my shoulder. “He is not the same, sister.”

“What? Is he sick?” I ask.

Olandon shakes his head. “No, nothing physical. He was acting strangely. I worried he might be passing word to the Tatum.” He released a held breath. “Thinking the Elite may already be breathing down my neck, I gathered warm clothing and…food for my journey. It crossed my mind to steal the map, but I decided it was better that mother think I was still somewhere on Osolis. The Oscala didn’t look so bad,” he says. He clenches his jaw tightly.

“You…you didn’t tell
anyone
before you left?” I ask in a low voice. From Osolis, the Oscala pathway did look deceptively straightforward. Of course, it was another matter entirely once you were in the depths of the rocks. I could actually relate in part to his decision. But the rest of his story…

“Ouch! What was that for?” he splutters as I whack him over the head.

“That’s for wasting a year of your life searching for me,” I say.

Olandon laughs suddenly, making me jump. He pulls me close for a rare hug. “I am so happy to find you safe,” he says. “You don’t know how the not knowing tortured me. I feel a piece of me is back where it should be.”

As I speak my next words I suddenly understand how Jovan perceives my continued efforts for vengeance. “Seeking closure can make you rash. It can blind you. Which is why I forgive you for being careless with your life,” I reply, hugging him tightly in return. “And I love you. But if you ever do something that stupid again, I will hunt you down and save you the trouble of killing yourself.”

He laughs and pulls back. “That makes little sense, but consider me warned. There is much to tell regarding our world, I’m afraid.”

A clanging signals Ashawn’s approach. “Yes we must talk more on this,” I whisper.

Visor up, the youngest Prince moves beside us and looks down into the yard with longing. Olandon lets out a low whistle as he finally pays attention the happenings below where the King spars.

“He can fight,” he says.

I shake my head in warning as he looks at me and tilts his head to the training yard. No one knows about my fighting here. Well, except for the person he’s talking about.

“I’ve seen better,” I joke. Ashawn snorts. Olandon misses the joke and nods seriously.

“I wonder how he would do against Frost.
That
would be a fight to see,” Ashawn says. I stay silent, trying not to freeze and give myself away.

Ashawn looks at me. “Oh, you weren’t here, were you?” I feel Olandon’s eyes on me. This is the first he’s heard I was elsewhere for a time.

Ashawn continues. “She was the most amazing fighter I’ve ever seen. So small, but ruthless, and damn easy on the eyes. She wore this little costume…” he glances at me and stops with a short cough. “Anyway, she and the other survivors stayed here for a couple of weeks after the dome. I spoke to her a couple of times. Oddly nice for a paid fighter, once you got past the fact she could probably end you.” He grins down at Jovan. “My brother was the only man brave enough to try it on with her. But he told us he had no luck.” A deep elation warms me. Jovan hasn’t told anyone about us. I didn’t expect him to, but I knew from my time in the barracks it wasn’t unusual to brag the day after. I clear my throat.

“I’m sorry I missed it.”

“What’s a dome?” Olandon asks. I start to answer and cut myself off.

“Uh, yes. What is that?” I ask to cover my slip. It’s not a bad slip. Most of the assembly likely assumes I’ve been hiding somewhere on Glacium during my absence. I could have knowledge of the dome. Best to play it safe. I listen with half an ear as Ashawn gives us a brief explanation.

“What happened to her and the rest of the fighters?” I ask. I only see Wrath down below.

He shifts uncomfortably in his armor. He’s been doing this for the last few days. I imagine it’s chaffed the skin in several places. “Most of them went back to the Outer Rings. I guess she did, too,” he says. “Jovan should have made her stay, in my opinion. She could have trained us up to kill all the…uh─”

“I’m sure,” I say dryly. At least one of the Outer Rings men decided to stay. It will be nice to have the reminder around. I doubt I’ll get a chance to see them again.

Fiona calls us over and we approach the chattering group of women at the opposite corner of the raised walkway. Greta corners Olandon right away and I’m surprised when he starts the conversation between them.

“You fight,” he says, a question in his voice. She looks at him like he’s crazy and bursts into laughter.

“Females don’t fight! Well, not in the assembly anyway,” she amends.

He looks from Greta to the training yard and back again. “Then why are you watching?” he asks.

It’s my turn to laugh. “They watch because they enjoy the view.” Fiona giggles beside me. I even see a reluctant smile on Jacky’s face. Eventually, understanding dawns on my brother’s face and he turns away from us with a sniff. It just makes me laugh harder.

I glance back at Ashawn to see if he’s laughing, too. My amusement trails off when I see him talking to a thin, greasy-haired man I know all too well. Blaine is back. I’d forgotten his year of exile was up. Hopefully Jovan has been able to protect Macy from him. I recall Jovan talking to her at the ball after his dance with Arla. I now knew Blaine hadn’t been the actual person to shoot the arrow. But had he hired someone to come down the Oscala? Had he somehow copied the map?

I look down and see Jovan has finally spotted us.

“Time for us to go,” I say, pulling at Olandon’s arm. “We’ll go and see Kaura.”

“The dog. Again. You do that every day. I would rather stay and watch this.”

“Yes, I know.” He’s made no secret of his dislike for Kaura, or her to him. “But I think Jovan is coming to throw us out, so we need to go. He doesn’t like Solati males watching,” I reply.

“Why only males?” he asks.

“Apparently women are nothing to worry about,” I say. Olandon bursts out laughing, drawing the appreciative gaze of several young women. I know by the way he stands a bit taller, he realizes this, too.

“That’s ridiculous,” he says.

Ashawn trails us down the barren halls toward the kennels. I much prefer the other, more festive castle in the Third Sector. Though Adnan told me the big baths have been installed here, too. It redeems the bland greyness slightly. Someone should really put some decoration here and there. My thoughts sour as I realize the person to do it would probably be Arla. As the ex-bed partner of Jovan and the highest ranking Bruma female, she was usually in charge of the Sector balls. I bet she’d love to be given the honor. I can hear her gloating about it now.

Jovan can ask whoever he wants, I suppose. It’s not like I have any claim on him.

“Ashawn!” I call over my shoulder, recalling his recent chat with Blaine.

“Yes?” he asks.

“Do you remember the slippery slope you promised to get off?” I ask, though there’s no doubt he will remember I’m talking about our conversation in the food hall after his confession. I’ve learned by now Ashawn’s perception and analysis isn’t his strongest quality.

“I do,” he says slowly. He’s wondering why I’m bringing it up.

“Blaine is someone who I would consider a slippery slope. The people surrounding him seem to suffer by his hand. You would do well to get off this slope before you get stuck in the middle and gather speed. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He’s silent for a long time. Olandon listens to our exchange. Nothing I have said will reveal the young Prince’s actions.

A breath is let out behind me. “I will try,” he concedes.

“Whatever things you’ve done while in his company.” I stop and turn to him. “Whatever
places
you may have been taken. I would take this chance to come clean with your brother and perhaps forewarn him of the kind of person Blaine is. Jovan will be angrier if you wait to tell him, when you have the chance to confess now.” I know I’m dancing on the line of revealing information only Frost could know. But I have a suspicion Ashawn views me as some mysterious, all-knowing Solati. If he picks this up, he’ll disregard it.

“But Jovan was so angry,” he whispers. “He already hates me.” His words remind me he’s only seventeen.

“Ashawn, your brother doesn’t hate you. He is
disappointed
in you, just as you are disappointed in yourself. The only way you will regain his respect is through your actions. You are a man now, you must act like one,” I say with a bite.

He straightens at my sharp tone. “It will be done, Tatuma.”

I’m surprised to see Olandon is at the Throne platform talking to the King when I return from collecting my breakfast. My stomach twists. What is he doing?

I barely wait until he sits down. “What were you talking to him about?” I hate that I’m so curious.

“I was just telling King Jovan that you should be seated at the Throne table,” he whispers back.

“What!” I yell and cover my face over the top of the veil. I wait until the table goes back to its normal volume.

“Why did you do that? I don’t want to sit by Jovan. I would much rather sit down here, with my friends,” I say.

“Your position dictates you should sit with royalty. I no longer hold an official title and belong with the commoners. You do not,” he says. My brother abandoned his birthright as Head of the Guard to search for me. I see Jacky’s mouth drop open at being called a commoner. Roman squeezes her hand on top of the table.

Veni, Jovan will think I sent Olandon to do my bidding. Does he think I miss him? That I’m desperate?