Finnikin of the Rock

the land. You would hold the plow, and she would walk alongside you with the ox, coaxing and singing it forward. A stick in her hand, of course, for she would need to keep both the ox and you in line.'

'What would we ... that is, my bride and I, grow?'

'Wheat and barley.'

'And marigolds.'

Her nose crinkled questioningly.

'I would pick them when they bloomed,' he said. 'And when she called me home for supper, I'd place them in her hair and the contrast would take my breath away.'

'How would she call you? From your cottage? Would she bellow, 'Finnikin!'?'

'I'd teach her the whistle. One for day and one for night.'

'Ah, the whistle, of course. I'd forgotten the whistle.'

He practiced it with her, laughing at her early attempts until she could mimic it perfectly. Froi came running up to them, a frown on his face.

'Captain said to fetch you. We leave.'

'Speak Lumateran, Froi. You're not from Sarnak!' Evanjalin ordered, getting to her feet. 'And you haven't returned my father's ring.'

He scowled. 'Fort you said it was mine.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' she said, vexed. 'Only because I thought I would die. You'll have to give it back.' She ran ahead of them, jumping over the tall grass and daffodils, her legs tangling at times, causing her to stumble.

'Hope she falls,' Froi muttered. 'Meanest girl I ever know.'

'I've met meaner,' Finnikin mused. 'The Lumateran girls from the Rock are quite frightening, and you never turn your back on a girl from the River. And Princess Isaboe? Used to tell everyone she could mend her cat's broken limbs, which she could, of course. But no one knew that she'd break them first.'

When they reached the barn, they joined the others in preparing their horses.

'Perri? Is there something wrong?' Finnikin heard Evanjalin ask in a quiet voice.

Perri was silent, and the question seemed to be forgotten. Or so Finnikin thought until he glanced over to Evanjalin and found her eyes locked on Perri's.

'Perri?' Finnikin prompted.

Perri's stare was loaded with controlled hostility. 'She lied,' he said curtly.

There was confusion on Evanjalin's face.

'Perri, leave the girl alone,' Trevanion murmured, grabbing the leg of his horse by the fetlock and holding the weight of its hoof on his knee.

There was no malice in Perri's face. Just cold certainty.

'She could not have walked the sleep two nights past. She spoke of walking the sleep in Pietrodore. It's not her time to bleed again.'

Suddenly everyone turned in her direction. Evanjalin's face flushed with color.

'It's not important how—' she began.

'What else have you lied about?' Perri interrupted.

This time she stayed silent.

'Did you lie about Lady Beatriss?' Perri persisted. 'And Tesadora? Did you lie about the young girls of Lumatere?' The priest-king and Froi looked on anxiously. Trevanion put his horse's leg to the ground and walked over.

'Answer him,' Finnikin said quietly, wanting her to put an end to Perri's suspicions.

But she refused to speak, not taking her eyes off Finnikin.

'Answer him,' he said more forcefully.

She shook her head sadly. 'There's always doubt in your eyes, Finnikin. How can you lead us home with so much doubt?'

'I'm not here to lead us home. Balthazar is,' he replied.

The fear that ran through his body when she cast her eyes down chilled him.

'Did you lie about Balthazar, Evanjalin?' he said, his throat dry. It was strange how calmly he asked the question. But he knew that if he shouted at her, it would only mean he believed she was capable of such deception. So he waited for her to deny it, to explain the sleep to them again so he could tell Perri to shut his mouth and then convince her that there was no doubt in his eyes. Just a desperate need for answers.

But there was no denial from Evanjalin.

'Did you lie about the return of the king?' Perri asked, his tone level. Finnikin realized that he had never heard Perri shout. Never seen him lose control. Froi and the priest-king stood waiting quietly, as if willing Evanjalin to provide the right answer.

'Say no, Evanjalin,' Froi blurted.

'Answer him, Evanjalin,' Trevanion said.

Finnikin saw it in her eyes before she responded. He saw it because she chose to look directly at him. There was no plea for understanding.

'Balthazar is dead.'

He felt his stomach revolt, his knees buckling beneath him. But still she refused to look away.

'You would never have come this far if you thought he was dead,' she said calmly. 'All of you. The exiles. The Guard. No one.'

'You lied all this time?' He could hardly recognize his own voice.

'You wanted a king,' she said quietly.

'You lied.'

'I gave you a king. I gave you what you wanted.'

'You. Lied.'

'Stop saying that!' she shouted, and the others flinched at the fury in her voice. 'There are worse things than a lie and there are better things than the truth!'

He stared at her in bewilderment. 'Who are you?'

'Who do you want me to be, Finnikin?' There were tears in her eyes, and he wanted to tear at his own so he didn't have to see her. Didn't have to witness her deceit.

'I once asked you to trust me.'

He shook his head with disbelief. 'Do you belong to the Charynites?' She clenched her fists as he stepped forward. 'Or are you one of Sagrami's dark worshippers, bent on more destruction?'

'If I am, then burn me at the stake, Finnikin,' she cried. 'As they did the last time they found out a king was dead in Lumatere. Someone had to be blamed. Someone had to die. Because that's what happens when logical men can't explain why an old woman has the blood of an innocent on her hands, or why another can walk through the sleep of our people. What you can't understand, you destroy.'

Perri made a sound of disgust, and she turned to stare at him. 'It's what your kin did to Tesadora and her people all those years, Perri. How your people taught you to hate. Your father made you watch. Made you take her hand and place it in that furnace and watch it burn. And you did, with tears in your eyes because you were a child and you believed what your father had to say. It's what made you a savage.'

'You lied about the king!' Finnikin shouted. 'What is there to understand? We have people waiting outside the kingdom. For their king.'

Trevanion placed a hand on his arm to calm him, but Finnikin pulled away, his eyes wild. 'If harm comes to those people, with the power appointed to me as Sir Topher's First Man, I will charge you with sedition,' Finnikin threatened bitterly, swinging onto his horse. 'Curse your existence if we've led the entire kingdom-in-exile to a mass grave in the Valley.'

When they reached the crossroads, Finnikin felt Froi tremble as the thief held on to him. Perri and Trevanion drew up alongside, and he saw the grief and hopelessness on their faces. North pointed to Lumatere, the word he had rewritten not five days past. But five days past the world had been different and a prophecy promising the return of the king had been possible to fulfill.

He had sensed Evanjalin's stare for the length of their journey as she rode behind him on Trevanion's mount. He turned to look at her now, and she held his gaze as she slipped off the horse and untied her bedroll. She looked