Forest of Ruin (28 page)

“H
ave I done something wrong?” Ashyn asked as they circled the fish ponds for the second time.

“Of course not.”

“I must have. I've somehow displeased you and now you're punishing me.”

“Why would you think—?”

“You just came from a meeting that will change your life, for better or for worse, and from the look on your face, it is clearly not for better. I am obviously beside myself with worry, and I've asked you twice what happened and you haven't even given me the courtesy of a reply. I must conclude that you are angry with me, though I've no idea what I could have done wrong.”

“Nothing, Ash. You know that. I . . .” He looked at the pond. “Can we walk a little more?”

“Why? Because you must see the fish a third time? The forest a second? The teahouse a fourth? If you wished to walk and clear your thoughts, then you ought not to have brought me along. I do not appreciate being tortured with silence.”

When he smiled, the sparks of anger ignited. “I'm glad you find my discomfort amusing.”

“No.” He took her hands, ignoring her when she tried to shake him off. “I am simply thinking how the girl I met in Edgewood would not have said that to me. She'd have
felt
it, but she'd have held her tongue and done what she thought was right.”

“If you wish for that girl again—”

“No.” He tugged her closer. “I thought that girl was pretty and clever and sweet, but the girl you have become?” He bent until his lips were over hers. “I would never want you to be anything else.” He kissed her, lightly, murmuring, “Ash, my Ash. My wonderful, perfect Ashyn.”

She let him kiss her. Then she stepped back, still holding his hands. “I'll not be distracted.”

An almost sad smile. “I know, as much as I wish you could be. I want to walk with you and talk with you and find secret corners and kiss you and tell you . . .” He looked away.

She dropped his hands. “What happened with the emperor?”

Silence passed long enough that she was about to grow angry again when he said, “I have been pardoned.”

She threw her arms around his neck, though in truth, neither had doubted that particular outcome. The law was clear—if an exiled convict survived a winter in the Forest of
the Dead, he would be pardoned. Ronan's initial fear had been that he might be thought a party to the massacre. After all that had happened, there was no longer any such possibility. He had not only survived the winter but had been a loyal subject and aide since then.

“I have been paid as well,” he said. “Handsomely. I'll be given a house and enough money to set myself up in any business.”

“That . . .” She tried to say that, too, was wonderful. But the last part stopped the words in her throat. The last part suggested that, while he'd gotten what they'd expected, he had not gotten what he truly wanted.

“Your family's caste will not be returned to you,” she said.

“A caste will. I am no longer without one, nor will my brother and sister have to grow up casteless, and that is what I truly wanted.”

No, what he'd dreamed of wasn't simply a caste, but the one that would allow him to carry two blades.

“He will not allow you to be a warrior.” She took a deep breath. “All right. We feared that. Giving caste to the casteless is difficult enough.”

Ronan said nothing, just took her hand and started walking.

“So it was not enough that your family had once been warriors,” she said. “Revoking that is permanent. No matter how long ago it was.”

“It was longer ago than I believed. When Tyrus told the emperor, he had his clerks look into their files. That could not have been easy. I did not even know my former clan. My father
would claim it was Mujina, Tanuki, Okami, Bakenko, depending on what served his purpose. The clerks knew, though. The stripping of warrior caste is significant enough that it was easy to find, particularly since I am not empire-born.”

“So what was it?”

“Tsuchigumo. Which my father never included in that list of possibilities, for obvious reasons.”

Tsuchigumo meant spider, like Jorojumo, the warlord who had betrayed Tyrus. Jorojumo, though, referred to web spinners. Tsuchigumo were ground spiders. Also known as “dirt spiders.” And it was the name sometimes attributed to a group of disgraced warriors who had established themselves as a renegade clan.

“So that truly is their clan name?” she said. “I thought it was merely a derogatory term. I'm sorry, that sounds rude.”

Ronan gave her a twist of a smile and leaned over. “To be honest, I expected as much. My family denied it, but I had a feeling it would be a little coincidental to be from a disgraced family that was not connected to a disgraced clan. It was also longer ago than I was told. At least seven generations.”

“And that did not help? That you are so far removed from the renegades? The blood so diluted? Or did that make it worse—the dilution of warrior blood?”

He shrugged, and they walked a little farther.

“All right,” she said. “So is it merchant? Is that what you'll be?”

He nodded.

“I know you hoped for better, but I'm merchant caste.”

“You're a Seeker. You are above caste.”

“I still consider myself—”

He kissed her nose. “I know. Thank you. I would be honored to be merchant caste. And I will be.” He nodded sharply, leaning to kiss her lips now and take her hand. “I'll be a merchant and I'll be proud of it and I'll never regret . . .” He straightened. “I'll never wish for more.”

“What would you regret?” She caught a glimpse of his expression. “There's more, isn't there?”

Ronan started to walk again, tugging her along, but she yanked him back, her hand wrapping tight around his.

“What else was there?” she asked.

When he didn't answer, she said, “Ronan? I will find out. I have only to ask Tyrus—”

“I can be warrior caste.”

“What? No, there's more, isn't there? Some test?”

He shook his head. “It's mine if I want it. I just . . .” He took a deep breath. “If I am to be raised to warrior caste, I must devote myself to the service of the emperor.”

“You must join the army,” she said. “Perform your term of service there, as a lower-born warrior.”

He didn't answer.

“Not a term of service,” she said. “Permanently.”

“The emperor recognizes my past service, and he has decreed that I have earned my caste . . . if I continue that service. Specifically to Prince Tyrus. As part of his personal guard. In whatever capacity Tyrus sees fit.”

“All right,” Ashyn said slowly. “I'm sure you'd like more autonomy in your future, but warriors
do
serve. And to serve Tyrus . . . ? Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Not at all. He would naturally be my choice. I've been doing it already. Voluntarily and gladly. As for service in general?” He shrugged. “I understand the limitations that come with warrior caste for the lower-born, and I certainly did not expect to be excused from them.”

“Then why would you ever consider rejecting his offer and becoming a merchant?”

“I'm seventeen summers of age, Ash. If I am to serve Tyrus, I cannot be a half-trained boy. I am expected to do as other young warriors would, when they came of age. I'm to serve a warlord for one round of seasons. Then I am to serve at an outpost for another. Possibly two if I require additional training.” He looked over at her. “I need to leave for as many as three summers, Ash.”

“Leave your siblings? Surely the emperor understands that you did all of this for them, and he cannot expect—”

“They would come with me. My first term would be with Goro Okami, who has agreed to take us all, to begin training my brother and to offer Jorn an apprenticeship when he is old enough.”

“You are being offered apprenticeship under Lord Okami, who apprenticed Tyrus himself. Goro Okami, whom you know and respect. He'll take you and your siblings, and he'll train your brother, too. And you plan to refuse? Are you mad, Ronan?”

“So you see no problem with the arrangement?”

“No, Ronan. Truly I do not.”

He let go of her hand and his voice changed, gruffer, harsher. “Then I suppose I have my answer, don't I? No need to stay.”

“What?”

“If you do not care if I leave, then I have no reason to stay, do I?”

“You—? Are you—? You're considering staying for
me
?”

“And that, I believe, answers every question I had. I'm sorry if I misinterpreted your regard, my lady. I'll take my leave now and apologize.”

He turned stiffly and began to walk away. Ashyn ran after him and grabbed his arm.

“You are telling me that you considered giving up warrior caste to stay with me?”

“No, of course—” He stopped and gave his head an angry shake. “Yes, Ash. One word from you, and I would have stayed. I thought—I misinterpreted obviously. You enjoy my company. You are quite happy to dally with me, kiss me, but that hardly means there is any depth to your regard.”

“Depth—? You honestly doubt—?”

He shook his head again, his tone softening. “I didn't mean it like that, Ash. We're friends. We're having fun being more than friends. It is a dalliance, and I ought not to have expected more.”

She stared at him. “You expected . . . ?”

He opened his mouth. Then he studied her expression, and hope glimmered in his eyes. “You did not realize that. Of course. How could you? We couldn't speak of the future, under the circumstances. You wished me to get home to Jorn and Aidra first. Yes, Ash, I want more. I want you. For as long as I can have you, and I cannot imagine being without you. At a word from you, I will happily be a merchant. So long as I have you.”

Ashyn continued to stare at him, and as she did, he seemed increasingly pleased with himself. He'd professed his love and now she would profess hers back, and all would be well. It was simply a matter of letting her know how he felt. Which proved he did not understand the situation at all.

“At a word from me . . .” she said slowly.

“Yes.”

“If I tell you that I wish you to stay, you will.”

“Yes. That's all I need, Ash.” He took her by the arms and held her there, his face above hers. “Just speak the word.”

“You wish me to tell you that I am committed to you. That I love you, and I will stay with you always, and that you do not need to fear turning down this opportunity, only to have me wander off after the first handsome young man who smiles my way.”

His own smile flickered, and he shifted his weight. “Not like that. I just want you to tell me that you feel the same, and that I have reason to stay.”

“Reason to give up your dream. To rob your family of a chance at warrior caste. Rob your brother of a chance to be a warrior. And it will be my fault.”

“It isn't like that.”

“It's exactly like that,” she said, looking up at him. “You are asking me to promise that I will be worth the sacrifice. That
we
will be worth it. And how exactly do you think that would work out, Ronan? Every time I am angry with you, I'll remember what you did for me and feel ashamed of myself. Every time you are angry with me, you will remember what you gave up for me, and hate me for it. And if your siblings ever found out?
That you'd sacrificed their futures for a girl you cannot even marry? You are asking if I love you. And you are asking me to prove it by forcing you to do something that, if I loved you, I would never want you to do. Blast you, Ronan! Blast you to—”

She couldn't finish the oath. She wrenched from his grip and ran. She'd barely made it around the next building when she stopped. Tova whined and she laid her hand on his head.

No, I won't do this. I won't run. Not this time. We're going to talk it out.

As she marched back, she saw a figure approaching through the shadows.

“Ronan, we—”

The figure took another step and Ashyn made out the uniform of an imperial guard. She straightened quickly. “I'm fine,” she said. “We're playing a game and—”

The guard moved into the moonlight and she saw his face, his horribly twisted face. Then he sprang.

T
he shadow stalker attacked with claws and fangs, ripping through Ashyn's cloak as if it was the thinnest silk. She yanked apart the fastening and dodged clear of her cloak, leaving the creature still ripping into it, snarling like a rabid beast.

The distraction lasted barely long enough for Ashyn to unsheath her dagger. Then the shadow stalker lunged at her. She stabbed it—in the throat, in the chest, in the head, wildly stabbing, all her frustration over Ronan fueling her rage. She heard a snarl and Tova vaulted over her to grab the thing by the neck. Both went down. The shadow stalker clawed and screeched, but Tova flipped it onto its stomach and pinned it there, letting it claw and bite the ground instead.

I have to banish it.

But that wasn't her power.

It didn't matter. She recalled Moria's words.

They are tormented spirits. Not innately angry or vengeful but forced to be so by sorcery. Many spirits, bound together in false anger.

Meaning the trick was to calm them. Which Moria had done, despite the fact that calming was Ashyn's power.

Beyond Edwyn's lies, he'd spoken truth, too. Their powers were not merely spiritual—the empire simply utilized them for that. Which meant that while Ashyn might be stronger at soothing, perhaps she could banish as well.

She set about calming the spirits. Setting them free. Wishing them peace. She wove a little banishing power in there, as well, perhaps being firmer in her requests, not so much begging them to leave as telling them, in the most respectful manner. Combining the powers of the Seeker and the Keeper, soothing while sending the spirits on their way.

It was like untangling a knot of spirits. She would hear one whisper its thanks or apologies and slip away. Then another. And another. Some needed less soothing and more banishing. But with each that left, the shadow stalker's struggles weakened until finally it lay still.

Ashyn stared at the creature as Tova nudged it, making sure it was dead.

There was a shadow stalker in the imperial court.

How could that happen? While they took the form of smoke as spirits, they seemed limited in how far they could travel in that shape. Otherwise, they could have slipped into the emperor's chambers and killed him in his sleep and ended the war before it began.

When they'd struck in the forest, they'd attacked men there. At Fairview, Alvar had captured the town, making it
easy to unleash the creatures on the site. In human form, they could travel, as anyone could, but this warrior wore the uniform of an imperial guard. He'd been possessed
here
, in the palace grounds.

And while you are considering how such a thing could happen, Ashyn, perhaps you ought to consider the unlikelihood that Alvar unleashed only one shadow stalker?

Ashyn ran, leaving her cloak behind and Tova to catch up, which he did in a few short bounds.

Ronan was only a few paces from where she'd left him, tackling another shadow stalker. Or, not so much tackling it as trying to avoid getting sliced open by its claws and fangs. And perhaps it was not truly until that moment, seeing him struggling without his blade—punching and kicking and wrestling—that she realized the full horror of what Alvar had done, unleashing those creatures onto a world where the common folk had no such defense.

Like her father.

As she ran—trying not to think of the court and palace filled with defenseless women and servants and, yes, children—she began her entreaties to the spirits in the thing attacking Ronan. Then she leaped on its back and plunged her dagger into its neck. It howled, but did not release Ronan, gripped in its clawed hands.

“Begone!” she snarled. “Begone spirits or the wrath of the goddess herself will consume you and snuff you out and your descendants will be cursed for all time!”

It was, perhaps, overkill. Blasphemy even, to presume to know the goddess's will, but Ashyn reasoned the goddess
certainly wouldn't be
happy
seeing her subjects murdered by vengeful spirits.

The shadow stalker hesitated in its frenzied attack, and when she struck again, it released Ronan. She stabbed the thing in the back now, knowing it would not kill the creature, but it certainly seemed to slow it down, perhaps even weaken it. When she yanked the blade out, she shoved the creature hard enough to make it stumble. Ronan leaped, as if starting from his shock. He went to push the shadow stalker down, but Tova beat him to it, knocking the creature to the ground on its stomach.

Ashyn slapped her bloodied dagger into Ronan's hand. “Use that if it breaks free. I must dispel it without distractions.”

He took the dagger. “I was trying to get to you. When I saw the creature—”

“Yes, yes. Now, please, watch it while I—”

“You came back for me. Despite what I did.”

She gave him a hard look. “No, I would let you perish at the hands of a shadow stalker because I am angry with you.”

She expected him to look chagrined. To her surprise, he laughed softly under his breath. “I truly do not deserve you, Ash.”

“No, you do not, which is why you don't have me. If you wish to discuss that, you'll need to survive tonight. Starting by—” She pointed at the shadow stalker.

He grinned and dipped his chin. “Yes, my lady. I will watch the creature while you dispel it. I will also stop talking.”

“Good.”

He walked to the shadow stalker and stood there, dagger
ready while Tova pinned the creature and Ashyn dispelled it with a combination of soothing words and harsh ones, a little more soothing now than harsh, with the creature disabled and Ronan safe. The spirits slid away, one after the other, the knot freeing more quickly now as she gained confidence. When the body lay still, Ashyn turned to Ronan.

“We need—”

“To find Moria,” he said, handing back her dagger. “I know. Let's go.”

They were passing the tea gardens when the scent of roses made Ashyn slow. She looked at the building beyond the gardens. When Ronan glanced over, she turned away from the building so he would not determine her thoughts, but he looked there anyway.

“The Chamber of the Divine,” he said. “You are thinking of notifying Thea and Ellyn, the court Keeper and Seeker. If you can dispel the spirits, they can, too.”

“I . . .” She looked longingly toward the palace grounds.

“If you wish, I'll go and warn Moria while you speak to the old women. But I would rather not leave your side.”

He meant that he wanted to protect her. Which was very sweet. Under the circumstances, though, given that he was unarmed,
he
was the one who needed protecting, so she shook her head and veered toward the Chambers of the Divine.

“We'll do this quickly,” she said.