Shadowmarch

safety of its own nest once more.

“May the blessings of the Three be upon him, this our brother. May the blessings of the Three be also upon those who must remain behind. The world will be a darker place for the light that was his and is now gone, but it will shine brightly in the halls of the gods and shall be a star in Heaven.…”

As he finished, the hierarch sprinkled a handful of earth on the coffin, then a few drops of water from a ceremonial jar; lastly, he set a single white feather atop them. As the gathered nobles spoke the response to Sisel’s words, four guardsman stepped forward and slid two long poles through the coffin’s handles, rucking the embroidered head of the Eddon wolf on the covering cloth so that its snarl seemed to turn to a look of confusion, then lifted the coffin and carried it to the door of the chapel.

Briony, going slowly so Barrick would not fall behind, moved to her place behind the coffin. She reached out a hand and lifted the family banner so she could touch the polished wood. She wanted to say something, but could not make herself believe that the Kendrick she knew was in that box.

It would be too cruel if he was —putting him down under all that stone. He loved to ride, to run… She was weeping again as the coffin was carried out of the chapel behind a ceremonial guard, with all the noble mourners falling into line behind the twins.

The other residents of the palace had been waiting beside the flower-strewn path, the servants and lesser nobility who were now getting their only chance to see the casket that held the prince’s remains. Many were crying and moaning as though Kendrick’s death had just happened, and Briony  found herself both moved and yet somehow angered by the noise—quite out of control for a moment, so that she had to fight herself not to turn around and run back into the chapel. She turned to Barrick instead and saw that he hardly seemed to notice the crowd. He was staring at the ground with clench-jawed ferocity, using all his strength just to stay moving behind the coffin. It was too painful for Briony to watch him, almost frightening: he looked like he was still locked in a fever-dream, as though only his body had come back to join the living.

She turned away from her twin and, as her eyes swept the crowd, she glimpsed a small face watching intently from a spot on the wall, a fair-haired boy who had apparently climbed up to get a better vantage point. For a moment she was fearful for the child—he was treetop-high—but he seemed as unconcerned as a squirrel.

Barrick had caught up again, and now he whispered in her ear. “They are all around, you know.” For a moment she thought he was talking about small boys like the one clinging to the wall. “Who are?”

He put his finger to his lips. “Softly, softly. They do not think I know, but I do. And when I have taken up my birthright, I will make them pay for what they have done.” He fell back a pace and let his gaze drop to the ground once more, his mouth set in a tight, pained smile.

Please let this end soon, she prayed. Merciful Zoria,just let us put our brother into the ground and let this day end.

When they reached the graveyard, the procession wound among the slanting shadows of ancient stones until it reached the mouth of the family crypt. Briony and Barrick, Anissa, Merolanna, and a few others followed the guardsmen and their burden down into the ground, leaving the rest of the nobles to stand on the grass at the door of the tomb, deserted and awkward.

* * *

The graveyard was full of big folk, all of them in mourning dress. Chert felt like he was lost in a thicket of black trees. There was no sign of the boy anywhere.

All he could do was wait. The funeral had almost ended. In a few moments the royal family would come back out and the crowd would disperse. Maybe then he could find some trace of where the child had gone. Opal will never forgive me, he thought    What could have happened to him?

With all these people here, could he have stumbled upon his real family? Chert thought even Opal could live with that, if they only knew it for certain.

But it’s not just Opal, he admitted to himself. I’ll miss the boy, too, mourn the loss of him. Fissure and fracture, listen to me! Talking like it was Flint being put away in the dark instead of the prince. He’s just run off somewhere, is all.

A hand touched his back. He turned to find the boy standing beside him.

“You! Where have you been?” Heart racing with unexpected joy and relief, Chert surprised himself by grabbing the boy and pulling him close. It was like hugging an unwilling cat Chert released him and looked him over. The child seemed quiet and full of something—secrets, perhaps, but that was nothing new. “Where have you been?” Chert asked again.

“I met one of the old people.” “Who is that? What do you mean?”

But Flint did not answer Instead he stared past Chert at the place where the royal family had descended into the tomb Chert turned to see that some of them had come out again: the funeral was over.

“You still haven’t told me where you went, boy…”

“Why is that woman looking at me?”

Chert swiveled until he saw the stout old woman in black-and-gold brocade, part of the funeral party. He almost recognized her, wondered if she might be the murdered prince’s great-aunt, Merolanna. She was indeed staring at the boy, but as Chert watched, she swayed a little as though she might faint Flint quickly moved behind Chert, but he did not look fearful, only cautious. Chert turned back to see the old woman’s maids steadying her, leading her back toward the inner keep, but even as she walked, the woman kept looking around as if for the boy, her face set in an odd mixture of terror and need, until the milling crowd hid her from Chert’s view.

Before he could make any sense out of what he had seen, a ripple passed through the crowd, a quiet murmuring. He caught at the boy’s sleeve to make sure he didn’t vanish again.The young prince and princess were being helped up the stairs and out of the crypt. They both looked shaken, the prince in particular so pale and hollow-eyed that he might have been one of the tomb’s denizens escaped for a moment back into the outside air.

Poor Eddon family, Chert thought as the twins floated past, surrounded by courtiers and servants but somehow terribly alone, as though they were only partly in the world the rest of the castle folk shared. It was hard to believe they were the same pair he had seen riding in the hills only a few days earlier.

The weight of the world, that’s what they’re carrying now, he thought. For the first time, he could truly feel the meaning of the old phrase, the grim solidity of dirt and cold stone. It made him shiver.

Part Two MOONLIGHT

This king, Klaon, beloved grandchild of the Father of Waters was troubled by what the beggar had told him, and so he swore that, all the children who bore the sign of infamy should be found and then destroyed…

—from A Compendium of Things That Are Known,The Book of the Trigon

13. Vansen’s Charge

HALL OF PURSUIT:

A strong man who does not sing

A singing man who does not turn

Even when the door closes

—from The Bonefall Oracles