Green Wild (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 2) by Chrysoula Tzavelas Page A
Authors: Chrysoula Tzavelas
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You’re worth a whole troop of soldiers, Kiar.”
As Kiar savagely squeezed water out of the washcloth, Lisette said, “Have you talked to the Magister about Vassay yet? Maybe he can soothe your concerns.”
“Hah,” muttered Tiana, barely audible.
Kiar ground her teeth, and then remembered a conversation she’d had with the Magister yesterday, during the chaos after the Antecession ceremony. “He said yesterday it was our job to protect them.”
“From Vassay? Or the Blighter? That’s an important detail, Kiar,” said Lisette.
“It was more of a general statement of faith,” admitted Kiar grudgingly. “But how could Vassay not be included? Just because it’s a whole country doesn’t make it less of a potential threat.”
“We talked to him about Vassay when we arrived,” Tiana said absently. “He wasn’t worried.” Kiar remembered the conversation differently, but it was true the Magister hadn’t exactly been alarmed by Vassay’s intrusion. Then again, the Blight itself hadn’t alarmed him much either.
“I can talk to him again if you want,” Lisette offered. “You really need to get some sleep, Kiar. You’re—” she hesitated, and Kiar’s skin prickled. “You’re more temperamental than usual.”
Kiar closed her mouth on an irritated response. She didn’t want to fight with Lisette. Or with Tiana. She didn’t want to set herself against them. She didn’t know how to do it and win, except by outright rebellion, and that she’d never do.
“I’ll sleep,” she muttered. “After that, I’ll talk to the Magister myself.”
----
K iar fell asleep almost as soon as she stretched out, but her sleep was restless and full of dreams. She’d been awake for a day and a half and in that day, she’d discovered the name of her family’s ancient enemy, spoken to him, fought a dragon, witnessed the visitation of a Firstborn and watched the lights of the Citadel go out. She’d stopped one earthquake and survived another. She’d moved literally tons of rubble, and sorted out library books. She’d argued with Tiana, although that was so common it was barely worth remembering. She’d learned about the source of the phantasmagory and lost it, all in the space of the same brutal murder. And she’d twice looked into her enemy’s private world.
Those peeks into Ohedreton’s world infused her dreams. Everything else drifted through: Twist’s mud-covered face, the King’s dying screams, Ohedreton’s terrible smile, all set against the backdrop of that lightless world.
Or at least it had been lightless the first time she visited. But when she’d destroyed Ohedreton’s avatar in the rooftop confrontation, she’d seen a reverse silhouette of Tiana against the sky, streaming with a blue light. She hadn’t had time to see anything else. But later, when she’d sunk her fingers into the extraworldly substance of the escaping fiend, she’d had more time to look around. She’d seen the armies, and the other fortresses, and Tiana’s silhouette hadn’t been nearly as visible.
And she’d seen other things, too. Human men, in the center of the closest armies, lifted up on some kind of scaffolding. It reminded her of an illustration she’d once seen of an execution: mobs of people surging around a few raised high. But the mob she’d seen had been full of aliens. Mostly andani, the black dancers, but andani seemed to make up the bulk of Ohedreton’s forces.
The reports unrolled in her dreams, and then wrapped themselves around the King’s bleeding torso. He opened his eyes and said, “Beware of the Bastard.”
Kiar said, “I know!” and sat up in bed. She’d shouted aloud. Fortunately for her pride, she was alone in the small room adjoining Tiana’s. She took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair. She wasn’t Benjen the Black, Benjen the Bastard, resentful and disobedient and reviled, who tried to destroy the Royal Family. She was Tiana’s advisor and companion and
As Kiar savagely squeezed water out of the washcloth, Lisette said, “Have you talked to the Magister about Vassay yet? Maybe he can soothe your concerns.”
“Hah,” muttered Tiana, barely audible.
Kiar ground her teeth, and then remembered a conversation she’d had with the Magister yesterday, during the chaos after the Antecession ceremony. “He said yesterday it was our job to protect them.”
“From Vassay? Or the Blighter? That’s an important detail, Kiar,” said Lisette.
“It was more of a general statement of faith,” admitted Kiar grudgingly. “But how could Vassay not be included? Just because it’s a whole country doesn’t make it less of a potential threat.”
“We talked to him about Vassay when we arrived,” Tiana said absently. “He wasn’t worried.” Kiar remembered the conversation differently, but it was true the Magister hadn’t exactly been alarmed by Vassay’s intrusion. Then again, the Blight itself hadn’t alarmed him much either.
“I can talk to him again if you want,” Lisette offered. “You really need to get some sleep, Kiar. You’re—” she hesitated, and Kiar’s skin prickled. “You’re more temperamental than usual.”
Kiar closed her mouth on an irritated response. She didn’t want to fight with Lisette. Or with Tiana. She didn’t want to set herself against them. She didn’t know how to do it and win, except by outright rebellion, and that she’d never do.
“I’ll sleep,” she muttered. “After that, I’ll talk to the Magister myself.”
----
K iar fell asleep almost as soon as she stretched out, but her sleep was restless and full of dreams. She’d been awake for a day and a half and in that day, she’d discovered the name of her family’s ancient enemy, spoken to him, fought a dragon, witnessed the visitation of a Firstborn and watched the lights of the Citadel go out. She’d stopped one earthquake and survived another. She’d moved literally tons of rubble, and sorted out library books. She’d argued with Tiana, although that was so common it was barely worth remembering. She’d learned about the source of the phantasmagory and lost it, all in the space of the same brutal murder. And she’d twice looked into her enemy’s private world.
Those peeks into Ohedreton’s world infused her dreams. Everything else drifted through: Twist’s mud-covered face, the King’s dying screams, Ohedreton’s terrible smile, all set against the backdrop of that lightless world.
Or at least it had been lightless the first time she visited. But when she’d destroyed Ohedreton’s avatar in the rooftop confrontation, she’d seen a reverse silhouette of Tiana against the sky, streaming with a blue light. She hadn’t had time to see anything else. But later, when she’d sunk her fingers into the extraworldly substance of the escaping fiend, she’d had more time to look around. She’d seen the armies, and the other fortresses, and Tiana’s silhouette hadn’t been nearly as visible.
And she’d seen other things, too. Human men, in the center of the closest armies, lifted up on some kind of scaffolding. It reminded her of an illustration she’d once seen of an execution: mobs of people surging around a few raised high. But the mob she’d seen had been full of aliens. Mostly andani, the black dancers, but andani seemed to make up the bulk of Ohedreton’s forces.
The reports unrolled in her dreams, and then wrapped themselves around the King’s bleeding torso. He opened his eyes and said, “Beware of the Bastard.”
Kiar said, “I know!” and sat up in bed. She’d shouted aloud. Fortunately for her pride, she was alone in the small room adjoining Tiana’s. She took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair. She wasn’t Benjen the Black, Benjen the Bastard, resentful and disobedient and reviled, who tried to destroy the Royal Family. She was Tiana’s advisor and companion and
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