Chapter
33

Aodren

LEIF NEARLY KNOCKS ME OVER WHEN I WALK out of the healer’s room.

Margeria saved my driver’s life and tended to my bruises. The fight outside the Elementiary took only moments to double in size as more Shaerdanians and Malamians rushed to join. But a fire ignited in the smithy’s shop, and soon heat and flame were billowing from the building. Everyone fighting was forced to stop and put out the blaze. The last thing I remember was rushing toward the flame.

When I woke in the healer’s room, my head felt as if it had been crushed. The truth was close: the fire had set off an explosion. And I’d been hit by debris.

“You’re up and walking,” Leif says, his gaze skating over me. His face has taken a beating. He’s out of breath and sweaty.

“Leif,” I say in surprise, “I’ve been down for a day. I’ve had time to recover. But what happened to you?” I give him a sideways look, taking in the sweat running down his temples. Did he go out and get in a fight from the anger? This cannot just be a side effect of the oil.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snaps, and then rubs his brow. “Sorry, sir. I—I didn’t mean . . . You can look at me . . . I’m fine. It’s not from the oil.”

His disheveled state is a concern and draws the attention of Seeva and the other Guild members as they file out of the room.

Ku Toa stops and nods to him. “It did not work?”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t take it.”

My expression must be complete confusion, because she turns and explains to me that half a bottle of Sanguine was used to heal me. She gave him the remainder to help him overcome the effects of the imposter oil.

“And you didn’t take it?” I turn to Leif, surprised that he didn’t accept her generosity. “And . . . is that blood on your arm?”

He seems baffled about the last bit. He glances to where his shirt has been sliced and then side to side at the guards in the hall. “Right, yes. I was cut. Two nights ago, Lirra came to see me because . . . That doesn’t matter. And when she left for the—”

“Did you say, Lirra?” Katallia breaks apart from the group and returns to my side. “I was worried when she missed the showcase. We haven’t seen her since.”

“She, uh, was sneaking out,” Leif says, wincing as if Lirra’s aunt will be shocked or dismayed. She is neither. “She ran into Judge Soma. Overheard him talking about the oil. He admitted to giving it to Otto and Folger, and he said something about giving it to Baltroit. Lirra said it was obvious he’s the supplier.”

Katallia sucks in sharply. “Seeva, come back!”

“But what of Lirra? Where is she now?” I ask, urgency screaming through my veins.

The other women return, and Leif continues. “He caught her and had her thrown in the oubliette.”

The world stands still, and at the same time my head spins, imagining what Lirra must’ve gone through. If she could barely survive the confinement of the regular prison cells, how could she have survived even one minute in the oubliette, let alone an entire night? I never should have involved her in my search for the truth about the oil.

“I realized where she was with help from her friend Orli. I came down here to get help, but you were unconscious. So I went back. But not before running into Soma’s guards.” He gestures to his face.

“The supplier is Judge Soma,” Seeva is saying to the other Guild members.

This news is a blessed relief that couldn’t have come soon enough, considering the tournament and the grand finale of the jubilee are tonight. If only Lirra weren’t the cost.

“Where is she now?” I break into the conversation. It doesn’t matter that I have finally secured a meeting to determine trade with the Kolontians. I have to go to Lirra.

“At her home.”

“And what of Judge Soma? Has he been arrested?” I’m ready to hunt the bastard down right now.

“Guards will be sent to detain him,” Seeva says. “He will be held in his quarters.”

“He would be better detained in the oubliette.”

Soma doesn’t deserve the luxury and comfort of his quarters. Not when Lirra spent the night in the oubliette.

“Your Highness,” Seeva holds up a hand. “I understand your concerns. However, Judge Soma is Judge Auberdeen’s right-hand man. The law states that the evidence must be reviewed before he is convicted and punished.”

“And what has Judge Auberdeen said about his right-hand man?”

“Only that he’ll not pass judgement on his kinsmen until the evidence has been brought forth.”

I grit my teeth, too furious to respond. What more does Auberdeen need?

“Judge Auberdeen has agreed to meet with us two hours before the tournament to hear all evidence,” Seeva says, even though I’m already walking away from the group. “Then, we can officially have Judge Soma thrown in the cell and we can announce the truth to the crowd, bringing an end to the rumors.”

Her plan sounds fair, even if I don’t like it. At least the Sanguine nightmare is almost at an end. Any of the relief to be had is eclipsed by my anxiousness to see Lirra.

My guards fall into place behind me as I exit the hall. They will follow me all the way to Lirra’s house if I don’t stop them.

“I’m going alone” I say, regardless of the risks of traveling without their protection.

Both men stare at me. Lirra trusted me with the location of her home. I won’t compromise her family’s secrecy. “You won’t follow me. That’s a command. Do you understand?”

One nods, and the other’s eyes widen. In spite of the danger of traveling unguarded, I’ve done it before and can do so again now so as not to lead anyone to Lirra’s private home.

They agree to stay with Leif, and then I walk out of the castle and saddle up Gale. It’s a relief to ride my horse for the first time since arriving at the summit, instead of being carted around. At my urging, Gale tears out of the stables and across the Shaerdanian countryside of rolling hills cloaked by low hanging clouds and patches of forests. We enter the secluded glade around Lirra’s quaint home, and as I dismount, a few stray raindrops fall from the gray sky.

Leaving Gale to graze on the grass, I stride to the front door and knock.

“Aodren? What are you doing here?” Lirra’s voice comes from behind me.

I spin around and find her walking toward me. Air rushes into my lungs at the sight of her.

“What are you doing here?” she repeats, the words brisk and prickly.

I leap off the door’s stoop and meet her in the middle of the field. “I was worried. Leif told me what happened and I . . . I came as soon as I knew. Are you well?”

I have no doubt that the story Leif relayed, one told to him by Lirra, of Judge Soma and the Shaerdanian champions is true. And soon, all three will receive their due punishment. I’ll make sure of it.

“Well enough.” Her answer is tired and small. Her arms press tight to her body, and her gaze skitters around the clearing, lingering on the space separating us. Her eyes take in the smudges of soot on my tunic and my disheveled hair. “And you? Are you well?”

“I am. More so now than before. There was a fire, but I’m fine. And as for Soma, he’ll be dealt with, for this and for the Sanguine. When I think of you in the oubliette—”

A shudder rolls from her shoulders to her toes, and I shut my lips, pressing them into a sealed line to keep from saying anything more that would bring her discomfort.

I step forward, opening my arms. “Lirra? Truly, I’m here if you need to talk.”

She doesn’t move forward, and I wonder if she realizes I have just repeated the same words she gave me when I was suffering. Lirra stares at my arms. One hard blink, and then: “I’m fine. I am.”

If the dark smudges under her eyes and the unusual pallor of her skin are any indication, she is lying. To both of us.

“But I’m not,” I say.

Her chin kicks up, a question forming on her mouth.

“I think of you stuck there, and it kills me. I should have known something was wrong when you didn’t meet me before the showcase. I’ll never forgive myself that I wasn’t there for you.”

Lirra draws in a stuttering breath.

It feels like we are two damaged ships at sea amidst a swell threatening to sink us, when all we really need to survive is each other. The provisions she’s lacking I have in abundance, and what I need is simply her.

Her lips are sealed together tight. Her eyes stare at me with more sadness than I can handle.

My body lurches toward hers, and I pull her into my arms.

Lirra softens, her body slumping against mine, her curves the right fit to my hard angles as if we were made for each other. I breathe in her bright, sunshine scent, wanting to capture it. A quiet sob catches on my surcoat, and her shoulders tremble.

“Lirra,” I whisper, tightening my arms around her. “Lirra, I’m here.” I run a soothing hand up and down her back and then hang my forehead beside her neck, wishing I could do more to return her light. “It must have been terrifying.”

Her head bobs.

“I’m sorry.” I run my fingers over her hair and drop a kiss onto her forehead. “I’m sorry you missed the showcase. You worked hard, and everyone would have loved your gliders.”

She clutches me tighter, as if she’ll never have the chance again. I have to swallow my chuckle, because I have no intention of ever letting go. “I wish I could take away your anguish. I would do anything for you.” The firm truth in my words surprises me.

Lirra leans back to peer up at me with sad eyes, and then she’s moving away, freeing herself from my arms and drying her face with the backs of her hands. Did I say something wrong?

She looks off at the gray horizon. “Is there another reason you came? Other than to check on me?”

I stare at her. She’s using all my worst lines. Is she trying to push me away?

“You were my only reason,” I admit.

Her hands flex. Shadows move over the ground we’re standing on. Above us, clouds block the sun.

“Leif told me how you were caught,” I say after a long pause, knowing at some point her testimony will be a key piece of evidence if the Channelers Guild cannot find anything else. I explain what Leif told us about the conversation Lirra heard. “A meeting is set with the Akarians and the Channelers Guild for this afternoon. We will meet two hours before the start of the tournament and the jubilee. They need proof that Soma is supplying Sanguine. Your testimony would be enough. Will you come?”

“I . . . I could’ve been mistaken,” Lirra says, as if she cannot believe it herself. “I’m not certain I heard him correctly.”

“Pardon?” I’m shocked. Leif had seemed so sure of Lirra’s story. And I’ve never known Lirra to lie, not about something as important as this.

“Soma may not be the supplier.”

May not be? “You don’t need to fear his reaction,” I say, guessing the reason. “He will not be able to touch you again. As soon as I return to the castle, I’ll use my authority to ensure he will not approach you, and neither will his guards. You won’t have to look over your shoulder.” She will have the protection of the alliance among Akaria, the Channelers Guild, and Malam. More than that, she’ll have mine. I will never allow anyone to harm Lirra again.

“I’m not afraid of him.” Her voice is stronger now. A raindrop hits her cheek, and she bats it away. “He might be giving Sanguine to his competitors—that’s something he’s already admitted to. But it doesn’t mean he’s broken the law. At least, not one that has been written in the big rule book.”

Could Leif have misunderstood? No.

“Why would Judge Soma put you in the oubliette, then? There has to be more to this story,” I say, my voice sharpening at the end.

Lirra jolts. She turns around, giving me her back. Dirt from the oubliette marks her clothing and hits me with new guilt. “There is nothing more.”

She has no motivation to protect Judge Soma. I can fathom no other reason why she’d lie for him. This doesn’t make sense.

“No new development? Anything to clarify what you first heard?”

She emphatically shakes her head. “No. I overheard him giving Sanguine to Otto and Folger, nothing more. It doesn’t prove he’s the supplier.”

That much is true. During the first dinner the summit shared, Soma admitted he thought the oil was beneficial. If Lirra has nothing more incriminating to add, there isn’t enough to prove Judge Soma is the supplier. The conversation Lirra overheard was all we needed, and now she’s pulling it away. Why?

“You’re certain?” I ask.

“I have already answered this, Aodren. Yes, I am certain. I have nothing more.” Her voice is tight and angry.

I pace toward Gale, trying to get a hold on my thoughts. Lirra’s posture is strung tight as a cistern’s strings, and her hands are clenched in the loose material of her tunic. There is no reason she could possibly want to help Judge Soma after he threw her in the oubliette. But she’s lying, I’m certain of it. I just don’t know about what.

“I’ll let Leif know,” I say, my acceptance coming out gruffly. “Will you still come to the meeting?”

“I have nothing for them.”

“Yes, I know, but you have been part of this search. I would like for you to give any input. We will meet two hours before the tournament, by the field.”

She dips her chin in a small nod, and I take it to mean she will come. It’s a relief. I stare up at the gray clouds slinking across the sky and darkening the horizon. A raindrop hits my nose, my shoulder, my chest, a warning of the downpour sure to come.

“The summit is almost over,” I say, loathing the fact that I will be returning to Malam in a few short days. She turns around, and I take in the beautiful curves of her face, wanting to memorize them. There is so much left to learn about Lirra. Something tells me that I could spend a lifetime near her and still be entranced by her wit. If I thought there was even a sliver of a chance she’d consider living in Malam, I would ask her to come with me. Her family still has land there that is rightfully hers. But I know how she feels about Malam. She will never leave Shaerdan.

“Let’s not waste what little time we have left talking about the oil,” I say, wanting to stretch these last days until they last forever. I hate that today’s reunion has already been dampened by Judge Soma. “You missed the showcase, but I am still eager to watch you fly your gliders. Will you show me?”

Lirra’s gaze is caught on Gale, who has moved from her lawn to the edge of the clearing, where the grasses grow longer. More raindrops patter on the ground.

“Or we could go for a ride,” I offer when she doesn’t respond. “I know it’s starting to rain, but what do you say?”

The edges of her mouth quirk upward.

A gust of wind blows between us. The almost smile flits away, and Lirra steps back. “You’re leaving soon.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Not today. I meant you’re returning to Malam after the summit.” Her hand waves in the air, as if adding a dozen more tasks to an invisible list. “There’s no time left.”

“We could make time.” I don’t care that I sound desperate.

“Do you not have a meeting today?” She wears a tight smile.

“I canceled it.”

“You shouldn’t have done that. Not for me,” she says, and I want to yell. Can she not see how important she is to me?

“Lirra. Of course for you.” I step forward. “I want to be here. I would do anything for—”

“Don’t say it,” she whispers. “The time we’ve spent together has been fun, but . . . I have other things that need my attention. My life is busy.” She adds a light laugh that rings false in my ears.

There is so much wrong with what she’s said, I don’t know where to begin. I shudder against the forced happiness in her tone, because it mocks the depth of what I feel. Whatever has developed between us has completely entranced me. I know she feels similarly. She admitted as much the other night. Fun, she said. Yes, it has been that, and also so much more. I’ve given her my trust, and if I’m being honest, my heart as well.

Perhaps the approaching end has eclipsed her feelings. The summit is nearly over, and for that I have no solution. Regardless of my feelings for Lirra, I must return to my kingdom, and I know she will stay in hers.

“Meet me at the cathedral tomorrow before dawn,” I implore. “This doesn’t have to be the end. Let’s not say goodbye now.”

Her eyes sweep closed. Is she thinking of watching the sunrise with me? Gods, I hope so.

A rumble of thunder bellows above, and Lirra’s eyes snap open. The clouds give up their fight, and the rain falls. Lirra raises her hand to keep droplets out of her eyes and glances to the house. “I cannot.”

The rejection is a slap.

“Aodren,” she says, and I think she’s drumming up a response to soften the blow. “I don’t think we should see each other again. It’s best we part ways now.”

Her words level me.

“Is that really what you want?” I croak. “Is this where we end?”

“Goodbye, Your Highness.”