Look at all the boats! It’s unbelievable how many there are. More than yesterday. Come look.”
Aliver let himself be tugged toward the terrace railing, smiling at a contingent of Agnates fresh in from Alecia. They would want to greet him, he knew, but he had made so much small talk with so many vacuous aristocrats the last week that he welcomed any excuse to put them off.
He grasped the weathered stone, Aaden beside him, pointing. The boy need not have, for the sight could not be missed. The sea around the isle of Acacia did not sparkle glassy blue or green under the shafts of sunlight. Instead, an enormous, undulating blanket had been cast over the water. A quilt sewn of boats all sizes and shapes, flying flags from every portion of the Known World. It was amazing. Beautiful not just in appearance but in terms of what it meant.
“Have they all come for you?” Aaden asked. “I didn’t know there were that many boats in the whole world.”
“There are more than this even,” Aliver said, “as you’ll see on your coronation.”
“If they keep coming, one will be able to walk from here right across the sea to the mainland, hopping from boat to boat. That would be fun.”
Aliver agreed that it would be.
“Today will be good, won’t it?”
“Aaden,” he said, turning his full smile on the boy, “today is the beginning of a new age.”
“That’s what Mother says!”
“She’s right.”
As if to demonstrate this, a shadow passed over them, with it a whoosh of air that ripped exclamations from everyone on the terraces. Thais flew by. The creature’s wings beat once, and then she glided in a curve out over the bay. Her rider, Dram, sat small on her back. A few moments later, Kohl-flying riderless-sailed into view from the other direction. Cries echoed up from the lower town, climbing the terraced levels as others joined in. Aliver could not make out words in the chanting, but he knew the tenor of it. Euphoria. Joy. Awe. When Po’s black form surged up from below the railing, having skimmed so close to the cliffside that he only appeared at the last moment, Aliver turned his gasp into a shout as well. They were mighty, Elya’s children. They were mighty.
But when he turned to Aaden, he drew back, unsure how to read the boy’s face. There was a tremor of excitement in it, yes, but it edged more toward fear than joy. “Aaden, are you all right?”
The boy looked sheepish. “Do you think they are… good?”
“Good?”
“That they are good things? Before, I knew they were, when they were Elya’s children…” He glanced behind him. He leaned toward his uncle and whispered. “I don’t like them as I did before. Mother made them… dragons. But they weren’t dragons before. They were something else. Something wonderful. I haven’t told Mother, but I don’t like them now. Don’t tell her. Please don’t. She is so proud of them.”
While the boy spoke, Aliver agreed with him completely. He was saying things that Aliver himself had thought but had forgotten. Hearing them brought it all back. Hadn’t he said the same before? Hadn’t he cautioned Corinn about squeezing the gentleness out of them? No, he realized he hadn’t. He would have to take the matter up with Corinn.
These thoughts were clear in his head only for as long as his nephew spoke. After that, they vanished. When Aliver went to respond he said, “Aaden, people will remember this day for ages.” That was true, wasn’t it? They would, and that was wonderful. “For ages, Aaden, and you were here to see it!”
“But-” the boy began.
“Dragons over Acacia!” As he swept his arm through the air, he caught sight of Rhrenna and several of her assistants, who had just mounted the main staircase. She stood looking around for a moment, until she saw him. She gave some direction to her assistants and then, to his delight, left them and started toward him.
She looked luminescent. Her dress was slim-fitting yellow velvet, cuffed high on the arms and cut low in the front. It had very few frills, and yet it managed to look elegantly formal. Her golden hair flowed in wavy locks below her shoulders. He had not seen her wear it down before. He’d had no idea it was so long and thick. Really, he was not sure he had ever truly studied her before.
“Here you are,” she said, grasping him by the arm as if he might dash away. “You’re not to be out of my sight a minute more. The queen’s orders.”
“Rhrenna, you look lovely. Has anyone told you that today?”
Color instantly flushed her cheeks, drawing two curves that traced from her cheeks to her jawline. That was fetching, too. And why had he not noticed how delicately drawn the lines of her lips were? They sparkled with some cosmetic, but, like her dress, this only highlighted what was already there.
“Not yet today,” she answered. “You’re the first. Thank you, Aliver.”
She told Aaden his mother would be arriving in just a moment. She asked him to give Aliver and her a minute alone in the meantime. The boy hardly noticed, transfixed by the sight of the dragons skimming above the masts of the largest ships.
A few steps down the terrace, Rhrenna said, “I have foul tidings, and I would like to say them quickly. It’s word from Calfa Ven, about Wren. She’s taken ill.”
Aliver pulled out of her grasp, but Rhrenna moved with him, as quick as a dance partner. He felt the press of her small breasts against his upper arm. He tried not to be distracted by them. “Is it serious?”
“I’m afraid so. The physician doesn’t know what’s wrong for sure, but it may be the return of a contagion she caught in her youth. Something tropical, you see, from when she was a brigand. That’s not unheard of. I’m afraid it puts the baby in jeopardy as well.”
“Who is caring for her? We should send physicians from here.”
“The queen has seen to it that Wren has the best care possible. Have no fear on that count. And don’t, for yourself, let it spoil this day. That’s why Corinn asked me to tell you quickly and assure you that if she can be saved, she will be. We, however, have to proceed with the day. It’s all tightly scheduled, as you know. Oh, there’s Corinn now.”
His sister strode before a buzzing swarm of attendants, senators, and guests. Surprisingly, Barad the Lesser walked at her elbow, his large head tilted to hear whatever the queen was saying.
Aliver parted his lips as they drew near, intending to ask Corinn about Wren, but she spoke first. “Doesn’t Rhrenna look charming, Aliver?”
Aliver could not help but turn and study the woman again. “Very much so.”
Rhrenna said something about being a stray dog beside a fox in Corinn’s company, but Aliver could see no reason for her modesty and said so. One of the Agnates behind Corinn piped up in agreement. “Just a different sort of canine, if you don’t mind me saying so. An arctic fox! That’s it. Though not so fluffy.”
“No need to compare us,” the queen said. “Rhrenna is a beauty in her own right. Aliver sees it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Aliver said, “I do.”
Corinn beckoned Aaden to her side. She touched Barad on the shoulder, dragging her fingers down his arm languidly, as if stroking a cat. “Barad just gave the most rousing speech in the lower town. Didn’t you?”
Barad smiled. “I am most pleased by the reception.”
“You’re an asset to us,” Aliver said, meaning it. Convinced of it. “Nobody understands the people as you do.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Barad closed his stone eyes for a moment.
Those eyes, Aliver thought. Those horrid eyes. He liked the man who saw through them, but he found it hard to meet that stone gaze. Expressionless. That was what they were. Lifeless, though they moved and saw. Aliver shifted his gaze from him as something else occurred to him. “Is Mena still not here?”
“No, it seems she’s been delayed.”
“How so?”
“I wish I knew,” Corinn said, reaching out to touch Aaden on the neck.
Rhrenna answered. “Something must have kept her. She is on the Mein Plateau in midwinter. The weather may be foul. I know it well, arctic fox that I am.”
“It’s sure to be foul,” Corinn said. A wrinkle of frustration creased her brow, but only for a moment. She touched her index finger to Aaden’s nose, then intoned, “The wind over the Mein is always keen. The snow likes to blow, and the frost will toss. If you like to freeze…”
