Finnikin of the Rock

heard one whisper to another. 'He belongs to the queen.'

They reached the main temple, where Tesadora lit a candle.

'We have the impostor king and nine of his men lying dead in the palace dungeons. Poisoned,' Sir Topher said after she had finished purifying the air with the scented smoke of the candle and a prayer to her goddess.

Tesadora held his gaze. 'Are you accusing me, Sir Topher?' She turned to Trevanion. 'Is this an arrest, Captain Trevanion? Or are you expecting me to shed tears for these... What did you call them? Men?'

'Our only evidence that Charyn was set to invade Belegonia through our kingdom has been destroyed,' Trevanion said. 'What would you do in our place, Tesadora?'

She gave a small laugh. 'In your place I would declare this a day of joy for the people of Lumatere.'

'Especially, perhaps, for those who worship Sagrami,' Finnikin said.

'These past ten years the bastard king and his men have not discriminated between worshippers of Sagrami and those of Lagrami. All Lumaterans were victims of their reign of terror.'

'The surviving Forest Dwellers?' Trevanion asked, indicating the woodlands. 'Did they order the murder of the impostor king and his men, Tesadora?'

Tesadora ignored the question. 'The Forest Dwellers have requested autonomy.'

'No,' Finnikin said firmly. 'Your people belong to this kingdom. Autonomy will only make things worse for you.'

'Those who worship Sagrami did not feel as if they belonged to this kingdom during the five days of the unspeakable. Is that not what you call those days?'

'The queen would never allow anything to happen to the Forest Dwellers.'

'And if something happens to the queen? We were protected under our previous king and queen, yet the moment they were gone, we were hunted like animals and slaughtered. Would you like to carry out your census here, Finnikin? Before your five days of the unspeakable, there were four hundred and thirty-seven Forest Dwellers. Today there are less than forty.'

'They will be protected,' Sir Topher said firmly.

'Despite what happens to me?'

'Have we treated you as the enemy?' Finnikin asked. 'We need what you can teach us. We need to know about the magic.'

'So you can control it? Cage it?'

'Perhaps to celebrate it,' Finnikin said. 'So we can learn to be healers. Your young girls have skills.'

'And you expect me to believe this is your reason for visiting today? When I'm here, answering your questions in an interrogation room?'

'No one is arresting you, Tesadora, and this is a temple,' Sir Topher said.

'Yet your captain holds his sword, ready for attack.'

'The baker stands accused of murder unless you can shed some light on what took place in the palace this morning!' Trevanion snapped.

There was no response.

'He will suffer for something you planned, Tesadora.'

'And Beatriss suffered for something you did, did she not, Trevanion? The captain of the Guard who chose not to lie prostrate at the feet of the bastard king. But by our goddess,' Tesadora swore, 'they ensured that his lover lay prostrate at their feet. Continually. Dragged by her hair out of her home night after night. She was once the most envied of women in Lumatere when she was loved by the captain of the King's Guard. But nobody envied her during our years of captivity. She was their perfect weapon to keep our people in place. When they discovered she was alive and re-arrested her, the bastard king chose not to have her executed. No, he found a better use for the former lover of the captain of the King's Guard. 'See this woman,' he would taunt whenever his men dragged her broken and bruised body into the square. 'This is what will happen to your loved ones if you dare to challenge a king.''

Sir Topher hissed with fury as Trevanion walked out of the room. Finnikin could not imagine what images had just passed through his father's head. He had been told tales of Beatriss's fate but had foolishly hoped his father would never hear.

Sir Topher stared at Tesadora. 'I have a better tale to tell,' he spat. 'The one where the captain sensed what would happen between himself and the impostor king. So he sent a message to his trusted friend Perri the Savage, telling him to take Lady Beatriss from her manor to the Valley of Tranquillity, where Lord August and Lady Abian had taken refuge. To leave her with them so she would be protected. But Perri was nowhere to be found that day and never received the message. You see, Perri was on his way to warn a childhood nemesis. Someone he believed his family had wronged for many years. Someone he believed deserved to live. I heard the sorry tale from Perri himself, still grief-stricken after all these years that he let his captain down. Imagine, Tesadora, if Perri had received Trevanion's message. Imagine the life Beatriss would have had with Lord August and his family in Belegonia.'

Tesadora's mouth twisted with bitterness, but she failed to prevent the tears from welling in her eyes.

'Yet Perri never regretted his decision to travel this far to hide you and the novices of Sagrami. And I never believed he should regret it, nor Trevanion. Until perhaps today.'

Finnikin went searching for his father. He found him stooped over with his back to the cloister, one hand against a tree. When Trevanion turned, he was wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, his face ashen. Sir Topher stood at the cloister entrance and they walked toward him in silence.

'We have no more business here today,' Sir Topher said.

Tesadora appeared in the passageway behind him. Her face was still impassive, but her eyes had softened.

'It began with Beatriss's first child,' she said. 'Your child, Trevanion. My mother went to the stake with the child's blood on her hands. We believe that the blood, mingled with Balthazar's and Isaboe's, got caught up in the dark magic of the curse. And became its light.'

Trevanion was silent.

'Because both the royal children and the babe were pure of heart?' Sir Topher asked.

'No,' she said and Finnikin flinched as her eyes met his. Despite the strangeness of her hair and the darkness of her spirit, she was probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

'No,' she repeated. 'I believe it's because a young boy made a sacrifice to keep the princess safe. Flesh from your body, Finnikin. But it cost you more than that.'

He dared not look away.

'I was there in the square the day my mother died,' she said, anger in her voice. 'Even through her curse, while others ran, I stayed. She watched me come into this world, delivered me herself. So I watched her leave it. The perfect balance, don't you think?'

No one spoke.

'I saw you that day,' she continued, her eyes fixed on Finnikin's. 'Saw what you did. I keep a dagger with your name on it, Finnikin of the Rock. My only consolation in mourning my mother is that she did not feel those flames for too long.'

Finnikin heard Trevanion's and Sir Topher's intake of breath, saw the shock on their faces.

'What did Finnikin's actions have to do with making contact with Queen Isaboe outside Lumatere?' Sir Topher asked.

'I know as much as you do, Sir Topher. The dead do not send a guide or explanation. We work things out for ourselves. I met Lady Beatriss in the dungeons of the palace, where she lay clutching a dead child. After returning her to Sennington, I did not see her again for another five years. The darkest of years. And then one day, in the fifth year of our captivity, Lady Beatriss arrived on the doorstep. Just over there,' she said, pointing to the entrance. 'In the early hours of the morning. And she did not come alone.' She turned to where a young woman knelt in the garden, planting. 'Japhra?'

The girl walked toward them, and Finnikin realized she was one of the novices who had been in Tesadora's cart the day they entered Lumatere. She was short, almost stout. Her eyes were deerlike, her sable-colored hair thick and lush.

'Friends of Lady Beatriss, Japhra,' Tesadora said. 'Can you fetch us some tea?'

When the girl left, Tesadora walked them back inside to one of the rooms in the cloister.