The Twelve Kingdoms: The Mark of the Tala Read online

  When I managed to sleep, I dreamed of him. This one, though, was more truly a concoction of my own mind. A dreadful one.

  Rayfe stood in that acid-green meadow, wolfhounds milling around him while a wind I couldn’t feel tugged at his black cloak and hair. He held out a hand to me. The black silk package rested in his palm, the wrapping fluttering in the same way.

  “I can’t,” I whispered.

  He only smiled at me. Tempting my curiosity. The restless pacing in my heart accelerated.

  I took a step toward him, and his smile widened, pleasure lighting his midnight eyes. But before I could take another, Fiona screamed behind me. I spun and there she was, tethered to a pole atop a blazing pile of books, writhing while the flames ate at her crackling flesh, while she cried for me. I tried to reach her, to save her, but my feet wouldn’t work. They crumbled off my ankles, turning into scales and feathers as I walked, so I left a bloody black trail in my wake. With every step, more of me fell away, becoming other. Fiona screamed and I echoed her terror.

  I sat bolt upright before I knew I was awake.

  Not difficult to interpret that one.

  We repeated our new siege rituals for the next few days, dutifully assembling on the parapets to watch nothing at all. Amelia’s ladies began to bring their various sewing and tapestry projects with them. Dafne brought her books. Every morning, nothing happened. Every afternoon, Rayfe and his man rode up under the parley flag and offered Hugh the package. Every time, Hugh tossed it away and refused to speak to me of it.

  Every day, I felt more strange to myself.

  After a time, we stopped holding vigil. Amelia declared it more comfortable in her usual chambers. Dafne stayed in her makeshift library. She was deep into some sort of research, and her thoughts tended to drift off in midconversation. I didn’t have anything to say anyway, so I let her be.

  My blood and muscles restless, I paced the parapets, alone but for all the silent guards keeping their endless alert.

  I discovered that it’s possible to be both bored and on edge. You wouldn’t think so, but they become one state of being. One that eats away at your peace of mind. I looked forward to the one moment every day when something changed, when Rayfe rode forward, when he searched me out on the parapets.

  I dreaded the dream that recurred every night.

  One midday—hours yet from the one interesting event I could count on—on one of my circles around the tops of the castle walls, I spotted Rayfe’s now familiar form riding from the edge of his encampment into the forest. I knew him by the headache flashing behind my eyes, if nothing else. Holding up a hand to shield against the sun, I watched, fascinated, but he did not reemerge. The sentries had grown used to my rambles, barely paying attention to me as I made my way up and down, from tower to tower, along walkways wide and narrow, so I had to tug the sleeve of one to get his attention. I pointed.

  “That road that leads into the forest—where does it go?”

  He shrugged. “Nowhere.”

  “You all are in the habit of maintaining roads that lead nowhere at all?” I asked drily.

  “He means, Princess”—another guard threw the first a reprimanding look—“it leads only to a series of villages, an old chapel few visit. Nothing of interest, he means.”

  “Moranu’s chapel?”

  He scratched his scalp under the metal helm. “Aye. Seems my granny went there from time to time, Princess. Of course, the people of Avonlidgh are loyal to the High King and have forsaken Moranu’s worship now.”

  I thanked him and stood there studying that road I could never go down. No more than I could go to Rayfe and put an end to all this, no matter how the birds in my blood sang piteously for it. From this point, the castle wall fell straight down, a dizzying sweep to bare rock below. That would be one way out, it occurred to me. I could fling myself over the edge before the guards could move. I’d be dead before I felt it.

  Then everyone could just go home.

  Annfwn needs you.

  A chill wind swept over me, from a different direction than usual, promising of long nights and winter snows. I shivered at it.

  “Weather’s turning,” one sentry commented.

  “Aye,” another grunted. “See the forest? Leaves are starting to change.”

  “We’ll see how long the Tala stay camped through one of our Mornai storms.”

  “What’s a Mornai storm?” I asked. “Storm off the ocean, Princess,” my talkative sentry explained. “Water-heavy clouds blow in and hit the cold winds you all send down from the north. Snow like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Those Tala will be buried alive by it.” A guard chuckled in glee.

  “No, son.” The guard squinted at the sky. “Our forces won’t wait for that. They can’t afford to. I hear King Erich’s troops have rounded up the escaped prisoners and the Mohrayans have done the same. Reinforcements are coming in from Aerron and Duranor to join with King Uorsin’s and King Erich’s armies at Castle Avonlidgh. This stalemate will end. Mark my words.”

  I looked down at the rocks below and thought about endings.

  Among the dreams of poor burning Fiona, the image of Rayfe dead in the snow, the slopes of Windroven covered with dead bodies, and the constant, sliding sensation of my body coming apart, I often thought I might be losing my mind. I felt like I had the pieces to a puzzle in my hands, but I couldn’t fit them together. Every time I tried, an edge fell off and shattered on the floor.

  That night, though, the dream changed. It wasn’t the acid-green meadow, or any of the others, to my relief.

  This time I walked along a road through a dark forest—familiar, yet one I’d never seen. To confirm my suspicions, I looked over my shoulder. In the distance, across fertile farmlands, stood Castle Windroven, pennants flying in the coastal breezes. I could pick out the spot where I’d stood, watching Rayfe travel this very road.

  Unerringly I followed his path, where the road branched into smaller trails, hemmed in by trees so huge I wouldn’t be able to wrap my arms around them. But I wasn’t in this dream to look at trees. My feet took me down the trail until a clearing opened up at Moranu’s chapel.

  It was built of the shell-encrusted volcanic stones from the seashore, much like Windroven, but the forest had gone far to make its mark, covering the charming garrets with ivy and moss. Dark where Glorianna’s chapels were bright, the chapel had Moranu’s moons arching in progression over the humble door, inlaid with now tarnished silver.

  Rayfe waited there, of course.

  Though I halted at the edge of the clearing, I was much closer to him than in the usual dreams. His blue eyes intent on me, he nodded, showing me the package but not holding it out. He opened the door and went into the chapel, glancing back over his shoulder, reminding me of the wolf leading me out of Glorianna’s pink candy chapel.

  Uneasy, I glanced into the shadows, waiting for the apparition of Fiona to appear. But all stayed quiet, except for a soft soughing of wind through the upper branches. Unlike on the path, I had a choice now about whether to follow Rayfe into the shadowed interior. A choice he’d very deliberately handed me.

  I probably shouldn’t have, but I simply couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to make a decision, even if it was the wrong one.

  I took a step. Then another. And another.

  A feeling of clean liberation poured through me. Follow your path to the end. By Moranu, I would.

  Inside the chapel, round windows ringed the ceiling. The moon shone through one, a gleaming opal in a sky the color of Rayfe’s eyes.

  He waited by the stone altar. When I finally looked at him, his face was carved in somber lines, almost sad. He knelt and moved a stone at the foot of the altar. After placing the package in the hollow, he fitted the stone back in place.

  Abruptly, he stood and strode toward me, cloak flaring with the movement. I tried to step back but hit up against a stone bench. He started to pass me, paused, turned a bit. Had his eyes been so darkly blue in waking
life? He raised a hand, framing my cheek with it. Not touching, yet I could feel him. I couldn’t breathe. His lips moved without sound, saying something I couldn’t hear.

  He smiled, an affectionate curve that seemed out of character for his stern mouth. He mouthed the words again and left.

  Come to me.

  In the morning, the mood of the castle had shifted.

  I felt it even before I went down to breakfast, like a storm approaching. Amelia’s violet gaze caught mine as soon as I walked in the room, and she held out a hand to me. Bad news?

  “What’s happened?”

  “Several battalions disappeared during the night,” she whispered to me.

  “Left?”

  “No. Their gear, tents, everything is all lying there, but the people are gone. Hugh has taken troops to investigate.”

  “He must think they’re dead, then. Or taken prisoner.”

  “Well, it is a war, Andi. That’s what happens.”

  I didn’t have to reply to that because Hugh and his men returned just then, to a loud commotion in the courtyard. Amelia and I, along with all the ladies already at breakfast, rushed to the open balcony that overlooked the inner courtyard. Hugh and Einsly shouted at each other, while Hugh’s page stood nearby, arms loaded with black scarves that dangled silver coins.

  By the time we ran down the curving stairs, Einsly had departed, along with a goodly portion of the men. Hugh caught sight of us and sent his page in the other direction, taking the scarves with him.

  Glad I wore my fighting leathers, I put on a burst of speed and chased the boy down, seizing him by his scrawny arm. He blanched, cringing away from me, fawn-brown eyes wide.

  “Andi!” Hugh barked behind me. “Leave it be!”

  Beyond listening, I yanked one of the scarves from the page. The coin attached shone prettily, a wolf carved on one side, on the other, three words: Come to me.

  I dropped it as if burned, my fingertips alive with a sharp ache.

  Hugh’s hand fell on my shoulder, squeezing warmly. “Princess Andi—Sister—this is not for you to see.”

  “It’s clearly a message to me. Who else should see it?”

  “He seeks to manipulate you. To turn your emotions.”

  It was working. I felt like crying. Like falling to my knees in the dusty courtyard and keening out my grief and fear. Hugh seemed to see this, watching me with troubled eyes.

  “These were in place of the missing soldiers?”

  He hesitated. Nodded.

  “Prisoners, then. And I am the ransom. Exchange me for them and this ends.”

  “No.” The noble line of Hugh’s jaw firmed. “Einsly has already left to organize a rescue mission. Enough of this waiting. Enough of these games. Rayfe wants a war, by Glorianna, he shall have one.”

  “But—”

  He’d already turned, gone to Amelia, and swept her up in a fervent embrace. Hugh kissed her and Amelia clung to him, passion shimmering in the air around them. Feeling unaccountably old and ugly, I had to look away. The silver coin at my feet winked up at me. Taunting.

  Hugh’s page darted in, snatched up the scarf, and dashed off.

  Hugh released Amelia and paused a moment, cupping her cheek and whispering something to her. It speared me—how the movement recalled my dream. Amelia’s face shone with love, all rose and gold, though. Not at all like my own moment, in Moranu’s nighttime chapel, with dark Rayfe and the swirling portents all around.

  But then, I was never meant for Amelia’s life. Nor she for mine.

  That day marked the true beginning of the battles.

  The rescue mission returned, bloodied and unsuccessful, having lost six men and women to the Tala. No one would tell me how many Tala had died. The rumors of monsters and wizardry amplified, tales of people disappearing into thin air warring with stories of dragons and wolves becoming panthers and then eagles.

  Shouts and screams in the night spoke of more confrontations. Sometimes the Tala snatched more prisoners, leaving those taunting coins in the place of living people. More often, Hugh’s people attacked, driving potential raiding parties back. No one seemed to be able to find the ones who’d disappeared, nor ever saw them being taken.

  The mystery chewed on us all. More and more, the people of the castle whispered of black magic and cast fearful glances or angry glares in my direction. The place reeked of rose water.

  I no longer dreamed, instead falling into a deep sleep that felt endless. Each morning I crawled out of bed, groggy, bogged down with inaction, my skin crawling over my bones like the birds that circled Windroven in untiring spirals. When I was allowed up on the parapets, I spent most of my time studying the way to Moranu’s chapel. It might as well be in far Noredna. I couldn’t get there.

  I paced my gloomy rooms, going from one blockaded window to the next. If I leaned my eye up against the narrow slits, I could see slices of the action below. The day had blown in cold, with freezing rain, and I’d been forbidden to walk the castle walls, for fear I’d slip and fall to my death. I hadn’t pointed out that more than a few people would rejoice to see that happen.

  The nasty weather didn’t stop the fighting. The two forces clashed against each other, charging forward, falling back. Sometimes a swarm of black creatures would seem to surge over a battalion like a wave from the ocean, and when it receded, all the soldiers would be gone, washed clean from the earth. Not all disappeared. From my vantage point, I could see the wounded carried into the courtyard, to be taken below for healing or to be mercifully killed. None were Tala. Hugh refused to take prisoners.

  Others muttered that the wizards could not be captured.

  I turned my back on the sight, clenching my teeth to keep from screaming. The doll my mother gave me sat by the bed, staring at me with glassy, accusing eyes. I felt I knew what she would advise me. What she herself had done.

  Annfwn needs you, it whispered.

  Each passing moment drilled Rayfe’s words through my skull, echoed by the shrieking birds in my veins.

  Come to me.

  Come to me.

  Come to me.

  Finally, I no longer harbored any doubt that I would. That I must. The only question that remained was, How?

  I found Dafne in the set of rooms Hugh had indulgently given her. I say “indulgently” because the interconnected suite was larger than even Amelia’s. The rooms weren’t in a desirable part of Windroven, though, so none of the other ladies were likely to complain. Here the castle ate deep into the rock of the old volcano. Windows weren’t even a possibility. She’d set up shelves and tables, organizing the tomes according to her own arcane system.

  “It’s warm,” I said, surprised. I looked about for the woodstove, like she’d had back at Ordnung, but didn’t see or smell one.

  Dafne didn’t look up from the tome spread on the table. She spoke to the pages she bent over. “It’s from the ground. The volcano may be defunct, but the warm rivers that used to fuel it still run below.”

  “Oh.” Another thing I didn’t know much about. I could just picture Ursula shaking her head at me. With a pang, I missed her, suddenly and fiercely. Always I’d thought Amelia was closer to me, but these days forced together showed how little Amelia and I bore in common, when I couldn’t ride off on Fiona and leave her to her gossip, flirtations, and love poetry. “I’d, um, love to hear more about that.”

  Dafne glanced up at me now, tucking her hair behind her ear. “No, you wouldn’t. What is it you do want to know?”

  Now that it had come to the point of asking out loud, I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. What if she laughed in my face? Or worse, told Hugh I’d completely lost my mind, which I likely had. I circled the room, examining the shelves. I glimpsed more in the next room.

  “You can’t possibly have brought this many books with you.”

  “No—it turns out Avonlidgh packed many away. Windroven happened to be a convenient place to keep them. Far from the High King’s displeasure.”

/>   “Anything good?”

  “All knowledge is worth having.”

  I wound my fingers together. “Anything about . . . shape-shifting?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’re still wondering whether that wolf in the chapel was Rayfe in another form?”

  I laughed at that. I wondered a lot of things, but that wasn’t one of them. That I knew.

  “I’m wondering how I learn to do it.”

  Silence fell between us. I couldn’t bear her considering gaze and fiddled with a little book lying on the edge of the table. Love poetry. Of course.

  “You think that kind of thing is in a book?”

  “Well, I don’t know, do I!” I snapped at her. She didn’t blanch but regarded me with that scholarly calm. “But how else am I to learn? How else can I get out of this fortress and put an end to this stupid war?”

  “If you go to Rayfe, it won’t end the war, just this particular battle.”

  “That’s enough for me. You asked me what my plan was? This is my plan.”

  “To what? Learn to shape-shift into a bird and fly over the walls?”

  “You make it sound silly, but after everything we’ve seen, I know it’s there. It’s in me, somewhere.” I clutched the leather vest over my heart, leaning over the table to persuade her. “I can feel it, more every day, my mother’s blood, like an animal clawing to get out.”

  “Fascinating.” Now she regarded me like one of her books.

  “Don’t act like you didn’t know this. You knew to get Moranu’s priestess here to help me. How did you know that?”

  She sighed. “Why don’t you sit down, Princess?”

  I slammed my hands on the table. “Don’t ‘princess’ me! How did you know?”

  “Sit, Andi.” Dafne pointed at a chair. “Stay.”