IN THE WEEKS THAT FOLLOWED their return from Thornewall, Kate enjoyed a stretch of peace unlike any she had ever experienced before. Thanks to the power of Raith’s magestone diamond, all of Bonner’s troubles had disappeared. Kate couldn’t be happier for him or more relieved that she didn’t have to worry any longer.
Bonner was the toast of the court, the object of glory among the Norgard soldiers, and the focus of fascination and wonder among the peasantry. The newspapers were printing articles about him, wealthy merchants with unwed daughters were sending him marriage contracts with massive dowries attached, and most of the gentry were vying to purchase something made by him personally. Best of all, though, Bonner had secured his future in Norgard, and the guarantee that his father could live out the rest of his life receiving the treatments he needed from the greens.
The only one not celebrating Bonner’s success was Grand Master Storr. He’d written a letter for the Royal Gazette cautioning the public from putting too much faith in machines over magic, but for the most part, no one seemed to be heeding him.
Kate was glad of it, all her worries far away. Even the trouble with daydrakes and her uncertainty about her place in the Rising didn’t worry her, with Master Raith still in Penlocke and not here to pressure her into telling Corwin the truth about her magic.
Her life soon fell into a comfortable routine. Although Corwin no longer brought her sweet rolls in the mornings, he did start training with her on Nightbringer again a few times a week. Both of them avoided speaking of the past, the resulting lulls in conversation occasionally awkward but more bearable than picking at old wounds. Kate sensed a change in Corwin, a confidence that hadn’t been there before. Part of it was no doubt his recent victories—both saving Thornewall and Bonner’s success with the revolvers. But part of it was something deeper, as if he was finally able to see himself the way the rest of Norgard seemed to see him now—as a worthy heir. She wasn’t hearing him called the Errant Prince anymore. What if he wins? It was a question she tried not to dwell on.
Yet the best parts of Kate’s days quickly became her visits with Kiran. At first she would come by the Sacred Sword and spend a few hours with him down in his secret underground home. But it didn’t take long before her loathing of the dark, miserable place drove her to insist she be allowed to take him outside.
Vianne had refused at first. “It’s too risky, Kate. What if someone sees you with him? They’ll want to know who he is, where he came from. We can’t risk it.”
“I’ll wear my cowl. No one will pay attention in the middle of the day. There are hundreds of children in Norgard.”
Vianne scoffed, hands on hips. “What if he loses control of his magic? If that happens even for a second—”
Anise, who made a habit of coming down too whenever Kate visited, waved her hand at the other woman. “You can’t use that excuse forever, Vianne. Sooner or later, the boy must learn to control it in places other than this dingy hole in the ground.”
“You agree with her?” Vianne spun toward Anise, her expression a mixture of shock and outrage, as if the woman had just betrayed her to the golds.
Anise rolled her eyes. “I’ve been telling you the same thing for months now. The boy is ready. It’s not healthy for him to be down here all the time. Children need fresh air and sunshine to grow.”
“What do you know about children?” Vianne said, but Kate could see right away she regretted her words.
“More than you will ever know.” Anise sounded perfectly calm, which only made her anger seem all the more dangerous.
Vianne let out a heavy sigh and turned back to Kate. “All right. You may take him out once. For a single hour—then you bring him right back. No one can see you.”
Kate wanted to argue that an hour was hardly worth it, but she held back. It was a small victory. “I’ll return for him tomorrow. We’ll go for a ride in the countryside.”
Vianne’s eyes seemed to widen to the size of teacups. “Outside the city?”
“There’s nothing to fear out there,” Kate said, remembering how she’d swayed the daydrakes to do her bidding. “Besides, if he were to have a mishap with his magic, it’s less likely anyone would see. We’ll avoid the main roads and the bigger fields.”
The next day Kate arrived earlier than usual. At first she thought the plan wasn’t going to work. Kiran’s excitement over the adventure was coming off him in visible sparks. Kate started to cancel their plans, but the moment Kiran sensed her doubt, he broke down crying. It wasn’t a tantrum like she’d seen other children have. This was abject heartbreak so pitiful that Kate almost descended into tears herself.
Vianne, no less susceptible to her son’s despair, knelt before the boy and took his hands into her scarred ones. “You’ve got to keep it under control, Kiran. Do you understand? If you let off so much as a single spark, you will never get to do this again.”
Kiran’s lower lip quivered as he fought back tears. The vivid flush on his face only emphasized the overall paleness of him. He slowly nodded.
Vianne turned Kiran’s hands over, exposing his palms. “Now show me a single flame.” The boy responded, a single steady flame appearing above his right hand. “Show me two.” A second flame appeared. “Show me three sparks in a row.”
On and on it went, Vianne testing Kiran on his ability to control his magic. He performed beautifully, exhibiting a control far above what Kate would’ve expected from a six-year-old. Then again, she didn’t have anything to compare it to, since she’d known no other wilders first coming into their power.
Finally, Vianne pronounced him ready, and she let Kate lead him up the stairs and out into the back alley where she’d left Firedancer tied to a post. Kiran let out a burst of excited laughter at the sight of the horse.
When he tried to rush up to the mare, Vianne hauled him back. “Be careful. Horses can kick and bite, my little prince, and that’s a warhorse. They’re trained to do it on command.”
“It’s fine.” Kate motioned Kiran forward. “She will never hurt you. I promise.” Kate climbed into the saddle, then reached down to help pull Kiran up while Vianne lifted him. Kate settled the boy in front of her, holding him tight around the waist.
“Be back in an hour!” Vianne called after them as they started to ride away.
Kate took them out the western gate toward Jade Forest. As she went, she instructed Kiran on the basics of riding. It was his first time on a horse, but he showed no fear.
“Our father was master of horse, you know,” Kate said once they were outside the city and free from the chance of someone overhearing. “You will be a natural.”
“Will you teach me every day?” Kiran said, practically shouting in his excitement.
She gently shushed him. “Not every day. But as much as I can. We’ll start this morning.” Kate rode to an isolated spot between two fields, a place she and Corwin had often visited when they were younger. Normally, she wouldn’t have allowed a child so young to ride a warhorse alone, but with the diamond around her neck, ensuring her secrets, she wasn’t worried—she could control Fire-dancer with a single thought.
Kiran struggled with riding, but that was to be expected. There was nothing natural or easy about the skill. What mattered was that he was brave and tenacious, willing to learn.
“Well done,” she said when he brought Firedancer to a halt. “You will be riding like a master in no time at all.”
Kiran beamed at her. “I want to go again!” Kate indulged the boy, unable to tell him no with his enjoyment so palpable.
When they returned to the Sacred Sword nearly an hour past due, they were greeted by a livid Vianne. Kate braced, expecting a tirade, but within moments Kiran’s infectious joy over the outing had cooled his mother’s wrath. Glad I’m not the only one bewitched by this child, Kate thought. Then again, she couldn’t imagine anyone not liking him.
And yet the gold robes would put him to death if they knew. It was a thought she tried not to dwell on, but it kept coming back to her time and time again.
After that first successful outing, Vianne began to relax, allowing them more time. The benefit to Kiran outweighed her reservations. Soon Kate was taking him out two or three times a week. Kiran quickly lost some of his paleness, until he finally looked more like a normal boy and less like a ghost. He started gaining weight and muscle, too, able to ride the trot for longer intervals without stopping to rest.
One day, Signe decided to come with them, needing a break from the castle and her chores making the black powder. Kate was glad to have her. When they’d first returned from Thornewall, Kate had finally had a chance to explain about the ruined doublet. It hadn’t gone well. Rather than shout or rage, Signe had instead gone utterly, completely silent, as cold as the water in a frozen river. Kate apologized over and over again, realizing the doublet must’ve had some deep importance to her friend, but for more than a week Signe barely spoke to her. Slowly, though, it seemed time was healing the wound, as it did most.
“It’s good to be out,” Signe said as they rode along. “These revolvers are eating up all my time for fun.”
“Why don’t you just share the secret of how to make the black powder?”
Signe gave her a look sharp enough to cut glass. “Because of Seerah, Kate.”
“The holy silence?” she asked, remembering the word.
With her lips pinched in a grim expression, Signe gave a solemn nod. “The secret of the black powder is the most important of any secret I hold. I will never share it. To die would be better.”
Kate frowned. “How did you learn it in the first place? We both know you’re not one of the Furen Mag.”
Signe gave her a look that seemed to say, Are you sure? “Perhaps I stole it. To protect myself. There is no greater weapon than knowledge.”
Kate glanced at her friend, suspecting another tall tale. “Protect from what?”
Signe flashed a smile, one full of teeth. “From the hobgoblins, of course.” She turned her eyes on Kiran, who was listening intently from where he sat in front of Kate in the saddle. “They come at night to steal you from your bed, but if you can ask them a riddle they cannot solve, then they will spend all night trying to figure it out before vanishing at the first light of dawn.”
“Hobgoblins?” Kiran said, sounding both scared and excited. “My ma says they’re not real. Just stories.”
“Oh yes, they’re real. As real as the drakes of Rime,” replied Signe.
Kate rolled her eyes. “Don’t you believe her, Kiran. Signe likes making up stories.”
Signe grinned. “Not everything I say is a story. But I like hiding the truth in embellishments. It’s a skill we have perfected in the islands.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Kate pointed a finger at her. “But someday I will get the truth out of you. It’s only fair.”
“I hope so. For it means we will still be friends when we are both old and covered in wrinkles, with gray hairs poking out on our chins.”
Kiran made a noise of disgust at this, and both girls laughed.
Afterward, once they’d brought Kiran home and were heading back to Mirror Castle, Signe turned to Kate and said, “Something needs to be done for that boy. It is no kind of life he’s living.”
Swallowing, Kate dropped her gaze. She focused on the narrow space between Firedancer’s ears, finding comfort in the view. “I know.” It was a truth she was finding harder and harder to ignore with each passing day. Although Kiran was improving thanks to their rides, he needed more. So much more. Like friends his own age, and a chance to run and play, scrape his knees, and cause mischief.
“You should tell Corwin the truth, Kate, as Master Raith says.”
Kate glanced at Signe, a thrill of nerves shooting down her legs at the idea. Still she resisted, the fear of how he would react holding her back, as always.
“The truth of what I am, Signe, it’s like my version of your Seerah.”
“I know.” Signe gestured toward the sky with an upraised palm. “Better than you may guess.” She swallowed, the cords in her throat flexing. “I once told a secret to a man I loved. One I thought loved me as well.”
Kate went still, shocked to realize that Signe was telling her something about her past. Something true. She forced her mouth closed and waited for her to go on.
A wry smile crested Signe’s lips for a moment. “It was the same man who once wore the doublet you took. I don’t know why I kept it, other than to never forget the mistake I made.”
And to never forget him, Kate guessed. She knew a thing or two about how hard it was to stop loving someone even when you should.
“I don’t understand, though,” Kate said. “If telling him the secret was a mistake, then why do you say I should risk the same with Corwin?”
“Because Corwin is a different man altogether,” Signe said, regret and hurt shining in her pale eyes. “He knows what it means to lose someone. He knows what it means to regret. He will understand, or at least try to. He is loyal to those he loves. Like Dal. And like you, too. You just need to give him a chance.”
“When he’s had the chance to choose between me and his duty, I haven’t fared so well.”
Signe shot her a hard look. “He might not have earned your honesty, that’s true. But sharing the secret of our true selves with another is always a risk, wilder or no. He might reject you, yes. But if he doesn’t, then you will get to be yourself with him at last. You can’t tell me that wouldn’t be worth it.” She paused long enough to shrug. “Besides, Kiran deserves a better life, and it’s in Corwin’s power to make it happen. That alone makes the risk worth taking. Take it for your brother, if not yourself.”
“Bonner deserves better, too,” Kate said. An ache went through her chest, a mixture of fear and hope. Could she do it? Did she dare?
“You deserve better, as well, Kate,” Signe said, her expression now fierce. “You must be brave enough to take it.”