ELLIA:
It felt like it must have been terribly early when there was a knock at Cyric’s door, but then I remembered that we’d stayed up so late that I couldn’t be sure what time it was. The windows of our room had been blocked up. The inside hummed with warmth and light and fire, but it had been like that all night. I watched Cyric rise from his couch across the room, throw his shirt over his head, and walk to the door. It was one of his soldiers beyond. At first I remained as if I hadn’t heard them, but at their hushed voices curiosity got the better of me. I climbed out of bed and tip-toed closer.
“Just like that? Because of a few songs?” Cyric was saying with some incredulity.
“That’s what they said, Lieutenant. They emphasized they’d be honored to have you, that you’re just the sort they’re most pleased to accommodate.”
I was to Cyric’s shoulder now; the soldier’s eyes moved to me. Without looking back, Cyric used his hand to push me out of the soldier’s view, then waved him off. “Tell them I accept. Wake the rest of the soldiers.”
Cyric closed the door yawning, then walked right past me without even a cursory glance. As soon as he reached my bed, he dropped into it.
“Excuse me, have you gone blind or something? You’re behaving as if I’m no longer even here.”
“No princess. I simply need sleep.”
Since seeing the light from the hall, I was sure it must be late morning by now. “Haven’t you slept all night?” I asked.
He didn’t respond. So I walked closer, smirking. “Has Cyric Dracla, dread Lieutenant of Akadia, gotten too used to sleeping in a cushioned bed?”
When he still didn’t move or say anything I walked back to his couch. I sat down and tested its softness. It was comfortable enough. Next I put my legs up on the back of the couch and swung my head so that I was mostly upside down. This was something that Scholar Padril used to have me do before studies; he said that it circulated blood to your brain and made it work better. I had a good reason for doing it now and I was glad I had because the ceiling—which was made of the glowing ember wood—looked absolutely magical from this point of view. Like flowing rivers of orange over brown.
I meant by this to be clearing my mind for the meeting ahead. I still needed to fight for Cyric, but I also wanted to be ready to argue against Akadia should I have the chance.
“Don’t you think, Cyric,” I began, my throat feeling a little thick for the position, “that if you were to live in a place, that you wouldn’t mind living here? I was thinking that you would always be able to see, or might it be to difficult to sleep in the wintertime because of the popping?” I couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not, I doubted it. I turned back upright on the couch, and whispered the next words. That way he could choose to ignore them if he liked. “I don’t want to go back to Akadia, Cyric. I don’t want you to go. I want you to come to Yanartas with me.”
In the room of glowing wood and warmth, nothing was as still or silent as him.
#
It turned out that our meeting with the rulers of Echren wasn’t until mid-afternoon. Cyric led me, with his four armored soldiers, through a city of sizzling mist and sparks. The rain had started hours ago, but it had not yet managed to smother the embers of Echren. I imagined that they would never go out. Cyric showed greater concern than I could have guessed in keeping me from the rain. He even used the gem-hewn statue that was to be a present for the rulers to cover my head. Luckily the guards gave us no trouble at the door. When we got inside, he immediately regarded me, using his fingers to wipe my face dry with surprising success, seemingly oblivious of the guards both Akadian and Echrian nearby, the latter of whom were waiting on us to follow. He dusted his statue dry, then nodded to the Echrians to lead on—now that his two showpieces were presentable.
I didn’t know if Cyric noticed, but I didn’t realize that our guards had been left behind in the front hall until we were led into a large, round, and empty chamber. The Echrians left, then we were alone, the two of us. The room was such that one would feel like a child in it no matter what their size. It was all glowing ember wood; only the grain of the floor went circular to match the shape of the room, while the wood grain of the walls went in a spiral from the ground up to a dome at the top which was open in a circle just at the center. Appropriately, streaks of rain fell through this, though they evaporated before they even touched the floor.
But all of this was not the thing to be seen, rather that position went to the carvings made in the ember-wood. Clusters of dots; glowing, burning, lights, small and precise, covering every inch of the wall and ceiling, outshining the glow of the ember-wood. The ambient light was darker here than in other places of Echren, which allowed the dots to show brighter. As streams of warmth pulsed over them in a spiral, they shimmered all the more.
Even had I not so many times been to the granted temple of Shaundakul, snuffed the torches out, and seen the constellations glowing on the ceilings and walls, I would have recognized the shining dots as stars.
I turned in a circle near the center, drinking in the sight, and only noticed after a moment that Cyric had walked to one of the walls. I followed after him, my steps feeling too harsh in the soft hum of the chamber. His expression was dark; focused on the constellations. I thought to ask him if this was a granted temple, but before I could he put a hand on the wall and spoke himself.
“This is what stars look like, Ellie?” he said. His voice was distant, as if he didn’t even realize he’d spoken himself. His face was free of harshness; he no longer looked unimpressed. But this was understandable, because as far as I knew (and I would be the one to know) Cyric had never seen the stars before. I was so affected by his expression that I didn’t know how to answer. And before I could think of anything a loud crack of noise and burst of light exploded behind us.
We both turned in time to see a flash of brilliant flame appear mid-air at the center of the chamber, and from its fire and heat appeared two vermillion birds, the largest I had seen yet. They were intertwined with one another and as they parted, going opposite directions towards the walls, they burst into flames again. Cyric took a half-step in front of me, his features locked with great concentration, every shred of the childishness he’d just exhibited gone. It wasn’t seconds before the birds appeared again, now on opposite ends from which they were before—for it was easy to tell them apart, they were the lightest and darkest of bird colors, one deepest red, one brightest orange. They met again in the middle and I couldn’t believe it when Cyric stepped right up towards them.
I’d barely seen their eyes fall to him when suddenly they swooped away again, this time flying to the far side of the chamber and landing on the arms of two figures; one a woman with flaming red and curly hair, one a man with long bright gold and straight hair. The colors of the birds were opposite to their owners. The skin-tone of the two rulers was as dark as the rest of their people.
I for one was frozen in awe, but the two figures stepped forward blithely, holding their arms far to their sides to accommodate their fire-birds.
“You must be the Lieutenant Akadian,” said the man.
“And you the Princess, Shaundakul,” greeted the woman.
They gave generous bows. I raced forward to stand beside Cyric.
“I am the Lady Leddy,” the woman said.
“And I am Carceron. We are the leaders of the Echrian people, appointed by our royal bondmates.” He gestured to their birds, and both humans bowed to their granted animals. The two birds kept watchful eyes on both Cyric and I.
I’d never felt so much like a child. I bowed swiftly and deeply. If Cyric did, it must have been while I couldn’t see.
“I am Cyric Dracla, Lieutenant of Akadia under Commander Lox,” he told them. “This is the Princess Ellia Solidor, daughter of Savras Solidor.” Cyric still had their gift in his hand; I thought he would give it to them then, but instead he just went on. “You say that you’re birds are royalty? Do they have names that we should address them?”
Leddy gave him a smile, while Carceron circled around to stand beside me.
“The Zuque do not have titles that we should cage them with,” she said.
“Zuque?” Cyric repeated.
Carceron spoke now, his voice full and deep. “Your leader from Akadia sent word that you would know of the Constellation Animals. You do not?”
Cyric’s gaze slit to me, but I didn’t catch its meaning. “We can discuss such things in time,” he said, “It is good to know that you can appreciate the presence of the princess of Shaundakul. Allow me to present to you this gift on behalf of Akadia, and…”
Leddy put a hand to his, and I only realized then that he had been holding my crown. “Our bondmates need no proof of the Princess’s title. They see for themselves what she is and what she isn’t.”
“We’ve heard that the dragons are gone,” Carceron broke in. “It is a poor loss for the lands. We feel deeply for you, Princess.” He bowed once more to me, and I couldn’t help but feel scrutinized by his bird’s gaze. Most of all I was confused. Were these like the Akadians? To be evil and then pretend to be sorry for it?
“I am grateful for your trust,” Cyric interrupted. “And in that case, I’d like to ask that the princess be allowed to leave. I’m afraid she’s been rather rained upon. Or maybe you have baths here that she could use while we discuss our business?”
I narrowed on Cyric. I shouldn’t have thought it a strange thing for him to say, maybe even a nicety, for I certainly didn’t want to parley with Akadia’s allies, not one’s so grand as this—I felt utterly incapable of being able to convince them at all towards my point of view. But there was something about his tone that made me doubt him: “I’m afraid she’s been rather rained upon?” I was afraid I’d never heard Cyric Dracla say such a thing in my life.
“Yes, a right fix we landed you in, inviting you at such a time,” said Carceron, who seemed to be the less austere of the two.
“Should you like to leave us, Princess?” Leddy asked.
“As her guardian,” Cyric objected, but he was interrupted again.
“Master Akadian,” Carceron said, “We know quite well that she is a captive, and that you have the power to send her where you wish. But if you would like to speak with us then you must also let the Princess stay. So long as she wishes it.”
“That is not the way of diplomacy,” Cyric argued.
“Diplomacy is just a word,” Leddy said, “another cage. The Zuque do not bind themselves by such things; they blaze their own path… Besides, can’t you tell, Master Akadian? she does not wish to leave your side. Should a soldier, no matter his rank, spurn such an honor from the Princess of Shaundakul?”
Cyric gripped his jaw, annoyance written plainly in his features. “Shaundakul belongs to Akadia,” he said, “as does its princess. She is not her own to choose where she likes to go.”
“Be careful, Master Cyric,” Leddy replied, her gaze flashing. “We know what you want, and there is but one, if any way at all, that you will get it. Don’t cut off the branch upon which you stand.”
“I won’t listen to riddles,” Cyric said.
“Then you should not have come to Echren,” Carceron laughed, “for it is our way to riddle. It is what fills our people with such merry abandonment. It is why our homes do not burn up. Our city itself is a riddle. And the power of our birds…”
“What can your birds do?” Cyric asked. It was the first time he’d said something that wasn’t about getting rid of me, but I found that I was still too uncertain—all the more uncertain all the time—to speak.
“You saw,” Carceron answered. “Transferring from one plane to another, leaving flames in their wake. They cannot be captured, or controlled. Should you try, you will be burned.”
“Their flames can deal damage then?” Cyric checked.
“The eternal flame will not go out,” Leddy said. Then, in a sudden movement, she reached her hand towards Cyric’s statue.
Whispering soft words to the orange bird, she touched the statue to the tip of the animal’s beak. In a second it was lit on fire: A solid gem, bursting with inexplicable flames. It melted from top to bottom, and in the last second, she let it fall from her fingers, to the air where it vanished completely.
“Can all of them do this?” Cyric asked.
“Each does is it chooses,” she replied.
“But they’re all capable?” Cyric must have taken their silence as answer enough. He smiled.
I bit my lip and touched his arm. “Cyric, what’s all this about?”
He grimaced at me.
One of the vermillion birds, the one on Carceron’s arm squawked abrasively.
“I told you, Carceron,” said Leddy, “She is too caged. She will only help him.”
“You do not know everything, Leddy. She has the strength of the Quinlong.”
“The Quinlong are the Azure Dragons?” Cyric interrupted, his tone somewhere between a question and a statement. “Like your birds are the Zuque? What are the others called?”
Leddy trained her eyes on Cyric, seeming to blaze brighter with her stare, then she lifted her arm and her bird went to perch itself on the branch that stood off one of the walls of the chamber. Carceron’s did the same, one bird beside the other, close enough to the hole above that grey light touched their wings. Leddy pointed to center of the wall opposite the entrance. “South is the Zuque, and the valleys of Echren their home.” An image burned in the stars as she spoke, a constellation of a bird, beneath it the outline of a map.” She pointed to her right. “East is the Quinlong, once dwelling in the forests of Shaundakul.” The stars lit just the same and my stomach knotted for the image that was no stranger to me. I took some steps away from Cyric. Carceron pointed opposite this wall. “The White Tigers of the west are called the Baihu. They reside in the swamps of Byako. And the Black Tortoises of the north are called the Xuanwu. They live in the mountains of Genbu.” Each constellation flared as he spoke it. I felt lost in the wonder of it all, recognizing these as images I had seen glimpses of so many times before.
Cyric crossed his arms, scoffing a little. “You make a show of what you know, but I’ve learned most of this myself. You could just have easily answered my question as I asked it.”
“We did not say it for your benefit, Akadian,” Leddy replied.
At almost the same time, Carceron burst into easy laughter. “I see your future, boy. You have just sealed your own fate. The constellation animals will only ever heed those of their own rank. Travel the lands if you will. Unless you can convince your puppet to make requests on your behalf, you’ll only be scorned. But what will she do with her knowledge?”
The orange bird cawed with a frightening loudness and Cyric looked at me.
Leddy passed behind him. “I warned you to be careful. Why do you pretend as if you have no power over her?”
His gaze turned even darker, staying on me. His grip tightened over my crown.
Carceron was watching me. “She’ll call them to help the chimera,” he said, expression delighted. “I can feel my bondmate. He will agree. He is eager to fight.”
“The princess belongs to me and she won’t make any requests without my consent,” shouted Cyric.
The orange bird hissed. Leddy raised her hand to it, while the red bird shouted an even louder call that quieted the orange one. “Carceron, you speak too soon. The Akadian is right. She is not her own.”
“I—” Everyone looked my direction; I hadn’t used my voice in so long, it felt awkward to speak. “I am my own,” I said. “I am loyal to Yanartas, and Shaundakul, and against Akadia. My people are trapped there, and the rest of the kingdoms are in danger of facing the same fate. If I can call your animals to help the chimera, then I would.”
Cyric’s eyes turned livid, but he looked to Leddy as she laughed. “You can’t call upon the Zuque on a whim. You may only bring a case before them. Then they will weigh it and decide. But no case can be brought by a caged thing. They will not hear of it.”
Both birds called in unison; I felt their eyes on me, watching, studying.
Cyric exploded with a shout. “This is foolish. They’re nothing more than animals. Both of you are the ones who decide who they’ll fight for, and Akadia is the best choice by far. The Yanartians are weak, they have nothing to offer you. Akadia can give you everything you want. We are stronger. We will win this war.”
“You’re not listening to what we’ve said at all,” Leddy replied, while Carceron threw his head back and laughed.
I blinked away tears at Cyric’s words. Even if I’d expected him to say such things, they still hurt. I thought at least by now that I had made some difference in him. And most of all it was obvious that he’d lied about the Echrians being Akadia’s allies. He had brought me here to try and win them to Akadia’s side. He was after these animals of theirs, somehow tied to dragons, and the other two. How could he use me to win enemies against my own friends?
Carceron pointed a finger at Cyric. “You will die for your sacrilege and your pride. The constellation animals will have their vengeance. I have seen your fall.”
“I’m not afraid of your birds,” Cyric spat. “I live by my own strength, and I have killed granted animals before. If you won’t listen to reason then you will make enemies of Akadia. Don’t think you’ll be safe in your valleys.”
“I told you, Leddy,” Carceron said. “He would not even try.”
“He’s too scared,” she agreed. “He thinks he’ll lose.”
“Shut up!” Cyric exploded. “I’m not afraid of anything, do you hear me? Nothing. Now tell me once and for all, will you join Akadia or die?”
“Look now, he wants to leave,” Carceron laughed, “Shall we free him, Leddy?”
Leddy concentrated her brow, came to stand almost between Cyric and I, looking at both of us. “I thought at least to get a taste of some endeavor.” She sighed. “The Zuque see no outcome. You will leave with your prize, Akadian.” She swept a hand towards Cyric.
He glared at her, relaxing the grip that had fallen to his sword, then he started marching directly towards me.
I realized with a sudden urgency what was happening and that this was too great a chance to help Yanartas for me to give up. “No,” I called. “Don’t let him take me. Help me. If you free me then won’t I be able to ask your birds to go to war? Isn’t that what you’ve been saying?” I looked to Carceron, since he had seemed the one to want to fight.
He frowned irresolutely, showing perfect patience while Cyric’s angry steps brought him closer to me all the time. I wasn’t even brave enough to look at Cyric’s face. “Freedom must come first,” Carceron said, “then requests for help.”
“But if you stopped him from taking me, then I would be free. Just don’t let him.”
Cyric reached me now; he grabbed my wrist, yanking me so hard it hurt.
“Keep your peace, Akadian,” Leddy said, “we will not steal her from you. But this hall will not see violence.”
“I’ve had enough of your commands,” he said.
“Carceron, please,” I called.
The golden-haired man frowned. He looked to both the birds, then back at me. “The Zuque have the strength to fight Akadia; Echrians do not. I am sorry, Daughter Solidor.”
Cyric pulled at me again. I tried to wrench away from his grip. I did not want to leave the glowing chamber, or the hope and chance to help my people, nor go out and admit that Cyric had done all the things he had; that he had once again stopped me from helping my people.
“Take heart, Princess,” Leddy said, “Remember all you have heard here.”
“I know the end to your riddle,” Carceron added, “Your choice will be your own again.”
They turned away from us, speaking more to one another while they walked. As they neared a wall, the two Vermillion birds called out and swooped down from their perches. They collided in brilliant fire and the four of them were gone.
#
Cyric slung me down onto the floor of his room. I grabbed at my arm, which he’d yanked and squeezed, despite the fact that I’d barely fought him as he’d led me back to the inn.
“Cyric, how could you say those things?” I shouted. “How could you do them?”
He ignored me, pacing his floor, seething and violent.
“You lied to me! You told me that they were Akadia’s allies. You said nothing of Shaundakul. How could you try and use me to destroy my own friends?”
He continued to pace, then suddenly rage built in his features; he spun and glared at me. “How could I? What about you? Begging for them to take you like that—after the way you’ve been acting—as if I were torturing you.”
“You are torturing me! You’re keeping me from freedom. Are you forgetting I'm a captive?”
“You’re the one that’s forgotten,” he accused, “That’s why you’re surprised I didn’t tell about the animals. Well, why would I, Ellia? The only reason you’re here is to get Akadia what it needs, and you couldn’t even do that.”
“I will never help Akadia!”
He shoved a finger at my chest. “Then we will always be enemies. Because I am an Akadian.”
I began to shake my head viciously. I thought through the meeting, and I thought through the things the Echrian’s had said, and the animals, and all that had happened in the past few days. “You’re not,” I said. “You’re not Akadian.”
He scoffed.
I stood to my full height. “Cyric, I know that you want to let me go. We don’t have to go back to Akadia. You can help me. You can come with me.”
“You’re so stupid, Ellia,” he said. “You’re a stupid girl. A stupid, spoiled, princess.”
“You don’t really think that. You’re just pretending to. You’re pretending like you pretend Lox isn’t evil.”
“I am loyal to Lox!”
“You can’t be loyal to Lox. He’s a monster. He murders anyone who gets in his way.”
“Traitors.”
“Tobias wasn’t a traitor. He only killed him because he defied him and what will you do when Lox decides to kill me too? Will you let him Cyric?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Lox would never kill you.”
“Why not? Because I’m royalty? That didn’t stop him from killing Tobias. And as soon as I’m not useful anymore, Lox will kill me too. Why can’t you see that?”
I expected Cyric to argue again, but he didn’t. He was turned from me; he had gone very still. I feared with a stabbing in my chest that I was losing him. This was where he would stop talking with me; this was where he would leave. But I couldn’t bear it, for I felt that if he took me back to Akadia now it would mean the end of my hopes to save him. “Cyric, please. Don’t go back; don’t make me. Don’t do this.”
Slowly, he turned. His expression was hesitant; I couldn’t read it, but his face was as red as ever, and his pulse was blazing. His jaw locked, and he went cold. “I will return you to Akadia,” he said. “And if you’re afraid of Lox, then you should consider speaking with the Echrian rulers on Akadia’s behalf.”
I felt blood boil up in my skin. I couldn’t believe he was speaking these words and so calmly after all that I’d said. “Never!” I shouted. “Never! Do you hear me? Never!”
Cyric held my gaze steadily. Then he said nothing as he walked out of the room.