She started with a few simple words and phrases, and he repeated them. Sometimes she laughed at his pronunciation and he made sure he did not make the same mistake again.
'How come you're so smart?' he asked quietly.
'Because I had to be,' she said. Sir Topher began to snore in harmony with Froi. Finnikin feigned his own exaggerated snore, and she shook with laugher against him.
'Jehr has never been off this rock,' she said after a long moment of silence. 'They won't allow it. They need to keep him safe.'
'It's not a way to live,' Finnikin murmured. 'Should we be worried that our heir hasn't seen enough of the world? That Balthazar's locked up for protection somewhere?'
She stared at him gravely. 'Have you ever wondered ... if he'll survive?'
'Balthazar? Being king?'
'No. Actually entering Lumatere.'
He was stunned. 'Why would you say such a thing when you've always been so certain?'
'We do not know what will happen in the Valley of Tranquillity. There's never been a promise that the heir will survive. Just that he is needed at the main gate to break the curse.'
Finnikin swallowed hard. He had just gotten used to the hope of Balthazar being alive. She had given him that hope.
'What are you thinking?' she asked quietly.
'I was envious of him as a child, you know.'
'Balthazar?'
'Every day he would go off with Sir Topher to learn the languages of the land and be instructed on the politics of the surrounding kingdoms. I used to spend afternoons having to play with the youngest princess. Balthazar learned the secrets of our royal courts, and I learned the names of each of Isaboe's dolls.'
She searched his face carefully. 'And here you are, having learned the languages of the land and been taught the politics of the surrounding kingdoms by Sir Topher.' She stared at him intently. 'Is that what you fear?' she pressed. 'That you've stolen his life?'
'You don't understand,' he said. 'I would make vows every night when I was a child. That if I were king, I'd change the plight of the Forest Dwellers. If I were king, I wouldn't be so soft on our Charynite neighbors. And Sagrami heard my dark desires.'
'Sweet goddess,' she cursed. 'You think you were responsible for what happened to Lumatere!'
'Go to sleep,' he snapped, turning away from her.
'If the heir does not survive what takes place at the main gate, the kingdom must be run by a civilian for the first time in the history of our kingdom,' she went on.
'Balthazar will survive,' he said flatly.
'All I'm saying, Finnikin, is prepare yourself for the inevitable. The king left the crown to his wife and children and their children's children, but if they were to die, the king's First Man would take the throne. Sir Topher is the king's First Man and you are his apprentice. Jehr may be right. Has it ever occurred to you that one day you could be king?'
He swung back to face her. 'Never say those words again,' he hissed.
She covered his mouth with her hand, but he pushed her away. 'Quiet!' she said. 'Is that why you've been reluctant to return?'
'Sleep,' he repeated. 'And pray that the son of our king will lead us to salvation.'
That night, he dreamed of Balthazar and Lucian and the silver wolf. The Forest of Lumatere turned into the Field of Celebration as the people danced alongside the king and queen and the priest-king sang the Song of Lumatere. But the words were wrong and Finnikin tried to tell everyone around him, yet no one would listen. Except for Seranonna, who beckoned him with a finger. And Finnikin was back in the Forest of Lumatere, where the matriarch stood gripping Isaboe's face with one hand and Finnikin's with another, her ice-cold breath on his cheeks as she forced him to look at the giggling princess.
Finnikin woke, perspiration drenching his face. He saw the dark shape of his father keeping watch on the rock face and went to join him. For the rest of the night, they sat mostly in silence.
'Do you think they're out there?' Finnikin asked as the sun began to rise.
'They have to be, Finn. This isn't just about what I want anymore. This is about Lumatere, and I can't make things right without my Guard.'
In the half-light Finnikin saw the anguish on his father's face.
'I owe it to our people, Finn. The five days of the unspeakable happened under my watch as captain of the Guard. I owe it to our people.'
For the next few days, they traveled along the river, searching the rock villages for any trace of Trevanion's men. Each attempt ended in failure. Finnikin knew they would soon reach the border of Yutlind Nord, where their search would become futile. Trevanion's informant, a Sorelian thief imprisoned for a time in the mines of Sorel, had claimed that the Lumateran Guard was in hiding in Yutlind Sud. They had taken refuge there after an incident in Osteria five years ago that cost the lives of three of their men. An ambush, the thief had said.
'Perhaps the Sorelian thief lied?' Sir Topher said as they left the last of the rock villages.
'What would be his motive?' Trevanion asked. 'Perri pays him to commit a minor crime and get himself arrested so he can pass on to me the location of the Guard. He collects the other half of his money when he is released. Where is the profit in lying?'
'There's not much left between here and the border,' Evanjalin said. The landscape was beginning to look like the forested region of the north, and Finnikin felt Trevanion's frustration and despair.
'Perhaps they were forced to move on and had no means of getting the information to you,' Sir Topher suggested.
Trevanion nodded. Ahead was a sign for the border town of Stophe, and one for the town of Pietrodore, which was perched high above them. They knew little about either. Pietrodore was a neutral town, visited by few travelers. The border town would be their best option for a meal and lodgings. Finnikin had been so sure they would find Trevanion's men and make plans to travel to the Valley outside the main gate of Lumatere. Now all they seemed to be doing was walking aimlessly north. Eleven days in Yutlind, he thought bitterly, and all they had to show for it was an arrow wound in his side and an ache in Trevanion's heart.
They continued soberly along the forest road. Evanjalin lagged behind, her brow creased in concentration. Sir Topher and Trevanion were silent.
'Captain Trevanion!' Evanjalin called out. 'Captain! Stop!'
The four of them turned to see Evanjalin pointing up, a smile lighting her face.
'Pietrodore?' Finnikin asked.
'Did you have a dream that told you to take us there?' Sir Topher said.
She shook her head in amusement. 'How could I have possibly had a dream while I've been awake and walking, Sir Topher?'
'Magic?' Froi asked, frowning.
This time she was annoyed. 'I don't know any magic. I've told you that!'
'It is a long way up, girl,' Trevanion said with a sigh. 'Too long to waste on chance. They are not here.'
Finnikin met her eyes, wanting desperately to make sense of her request. Why Pietrodore? But in a moment the realization hit, and he smiled in wonder.
'It's not chance, Trevanion,' he said, kicking the golden carpet of leaves at his feet. He ran back toward her, sliding part of the way until he could grab her by the waist and swing her around. 'You are a goddess, Evanjalin of the Monts.'
Evanjalin was grinning from ear to ear as she tried to break free. She faced the others, who stood watching, confused. 'Pietrodore. It's the common Yut word for 'rock village.''
Chapter 15
