Innis continued. “It's hard, sometimes, to trust in Enos, but it is true that he guides us in all things. He guides you now, to the throne. It is under your rule that Hail will prosper and the Crowheart Empire will grow.” He was finally proud of her, but only because he didn't know the truth.
The almoner held the back of Rayne's neck and pushed. Rayne's knees gave and she sank into the water, ducking her head beneath the waves. She opened her eyes, her cheeks puffed out with air, and studied the silty bottom of the ocean. She could almost pretend she was back in the Tor River if it weren't for the almoner holding her there, his white robes swirling around his legs. After a minute, her lungs began to fight against her, straining to expand. She felt herself sinking to the bottom, determined not to struggle. Determined to prove that she was as good as any Malstrom queen. Better, in fact. She was glad, at least, that even as her air ran out, none of her ghosts came to visit her.
Then her father was grasping her arms and hauling her up. She burst through the water and not even the dubious spectators could help but gasp, some going so far as to cheer. The almoner was speaking but Rayne couldn't hear him over the rush of water through her ears. She tossed her head back and sprayed water over them. The almoner stilled her with a hand on her back. Then her father, holding it carefully between his hands, placed the freshly-polished crown on top of her head. It slipped over her curls and rested comfortably there, as if it had been meant for her.
The crowd couldn't help it then. A cheer rose out of them, swelling as more and more people took it up. They were competing with the ocean and winning. Rayne raised her arms to more cheers and smiled. They had seen her submerged, had seen her reborn. She was their true queen now; there was no other.
? ? ?
When Rayne returned to her room that night, it was blissfully empty. She had dismissed her maids and left her guards outside the door. In the halls below, the gathering still raged, but her parents had sent her away, her mother telling her it wasn't proper for the queen to be the last one to leave her own ball. So she had come upstairs, but deciding she was still too excited to sleep, she crossed to the picture window and drew the drapes aside, letting the moonlight fall across her chilled skin.
It was all so unexpected how everything had gone so wrong but still felt somehow wonderful, too. The weight of the light crown on her damp hair. The ache in her heart that had once been filled by so many people now gone from this world. The anticipation burning just below the surface. It was a delicious, crackling sensation so full of potential.
Her window pointed southeast, and she could just see the edge of Orabel, lit up by lanterns as the citizens continued the celebration in the streets. But she could also see the ocean, mirroring the light of the moon in ripples and waves. Ships docked in the harbor rocked gently, their sailors either sleeping or joining the festivities on shore. It was almost too beautiful for her to bear, and the thought that it was all hers rose goosebumps on her arms.
A breeze scooted past her into the room and fluttered a book that lay open on her desk, a book she had nearly forgotten about. She picked it up and held it gingerly. Merek had loved his maps and the idea of a world full of possibilities. It didn't seem right that the one time he left Shade, he had been killed.
She flipped to the front page and folded out the page to reveal the map of Casuin and the lost lands beyond. Her fingers traced her country’s coastline that had been carefully inked onto the delicate bound parchment. She found Choral Isle, where her ancestors had first landed, and then let her finger wander across the Impassable Strait, where someone had drawn depictions of sea serpents waiting for their next victim. On the other side of the Strait was the strange, savage land known as the Lost Fields. It was where Evenon had found Darcey Malstrom, and where he had killed her.
“What else are you hiding?” she wondered aloud.
Rayne looked between the Impassable Strait depicted in the book, and then at the waves beating at the shore. How odd to think that another land was out there somewhere, a land full of mysteries and strangers. If Evenon was to be believed, it was also full of violence and strange magic and powerful women. Rayne wondered if those women would be able to tell her how and why she had done what she had done during the battle. Why, up until that moment, men had been the only wielders in Casuin.
Just then, she had the strangest sensation that she was being watched. She put the book back on her desk, and gently placed her half of the broken slaver’s band on the leather cover. Pushing the window open, she leaned out, letting the breeze ruffle her hair. A bird landed on the balcony railing beyond her window, startling her. She yelped and then laughed at herself. The bird—a black raven, its plumage looking slick in the moonlight—preened its wings and cocked its head sideways to look at her.
“Shoo,” she said half-heartedly, waving a hand at it. It took great offense at that and launched itself into the air.
But the feeling that someone was watching her didn't fade, and she kept her eyes on the eastern horizon and the endless sea until finally drawing the curtains and shrouding herself in darkness.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Sibba
“I cannot spare the men.” Thorvald coughed into a rag after his proclamation, but Sibba didn't move forward to comfort him. The woman at his bedside had warned her not to even go in the room, but Sibba hadn't spent the last two weeks on the road only to have the man die before he made good on his promise to her.
“I delivered Jary back to you,” she said.
“And you are free to go.” He shifted and when he did, the lamplight from the dim room fell across his face and she saw the blood crusting his beard. She resisted the urge to step back. The Blood Flu was a vicious killer, fast-moving and indiscriminate. It had killed her grandmother, and it looked like now it would take her father. “Based on what I've heard about your exploits in Ydurgat, we should expect retribution when the snows have passed. I need every fighting man here, not on a doomed ship. But you can go. You've earned that much. It would be best if you were not here when Grimsson arrived, anyway.”
“I've earned everything you promised me!” Sibba yelled. “You can’t just get rid of me like you did my mother. I brought Jary back, I did what I said I would. Now it's your turn.”
“Aye, but you didn't bring me her sword, did you? I believe that was part of your promise.”