One week later, when Rosa's injuries had supposedly healed, as per Amelia's — and Feren's — previous specifications, the girl was cautious to emerge. Feren even more so. He set a spirit right outside Rosa's door day and night, and there weren't many places where she was and a spirit, or a man of Abett's or Nertín's wasn't. Amelia had been absent in those days either with Mubarak or Keegan, or with the two of them at the same time, and tried very hard not to think of the Tomerin girl wandering her new territories, reminding her to be cautious. The only one who seemed to perceive her as a threat, however, was Feren.
Rosa had had many opportunities to hurt Amelia, seeing as she had indeed been residing in or near the Capital, and she hadn't. But had she been the cause of all the other mysterious deaths in the castle? The ones they had blamed on the queen?
The other women that Rosa had entered Remalda with seemed of little importance. After whatever pass Feren and the youngest had had, he did not seem to be interested in her anymore. Of their conversation, Amelia knew very little. As far as she was aware, they had not meant to stay in Remalda long.
She had expected Rosa's room-darkening presence before she'd appeared. Her sudden aura was no surprise, but that did not make it any less unwelcome.
Amelia settled the creases of a cowl on her lap before acknowledging the weight she felt so plainly behind her. A breath was taken to steady herself. It was not in her to fight.
"You've managed to escape their eyes for a moment, I see."
The woman behind took her time in stepping forward, but eventually she came. Amelia never moved her gaze away from a point on the floor in front of her.
"Yes... if only for a moment."
"I can't imagine how."
No image was painted to answer.
Before the girl could step again, Amelia lifted one hand. "Do not come closer." At her breath, a spirit wove itself from the palm of her left hand. A wolf balanced between them. "It causes pain enough to be in the same providence with you again. I do not want you any nearer to me."
"I would not say the same."
Despite the request that she not approach, the voice sounded closer to the voerr girl's ear. Amelia barely turned in her direction. "What is it you want here, Rosa?"
"Refuge."
"And why should I allow it?"
"Because we have means to the same end."
"And what is that?"
"The death of a corrupted Firica."
The words had quieted and gone before Amelia could think to act. She wasn't sure what to think... but she did not care. Every day she had lived out from under Firican gaze was a day she had never expected. She tried to let that be enough.
She stood, allowing the cowl to fall on the seat beside her. Without a sound she stepped for the door... intending to stride past the taller woman that stood there. She paused beside her tormenter's supposed sister.
One cheek twitched toward the other. Rosa looked down to the girl's exposed hand. Her brow creased as if in real concern toward the compression bandages that stretched from wrist to shoulder. She asked, "What happened to you?"
"Why did you come to Constentine?" Amelia countered, ignoring her question. "Of all the places you could have hidden yourself. You wanted me away from you for so long, and now you are here. Why?" Rosa didn't answer, so Amelia turned her head to see the girl, still in a dress. For as proper as she'd wanted her life, she had sure avoided luxury there.
"... I wanted to make sure you were alright."
"Ha."
"I saw you leaving; the night that you and the others fled. I wanted to be sure you made it."
"And why do you suddenly care for my wellbeing?"
"I care very little for you, princess." The words were steeled over, the feigned kindness forgotten. "I care more for the end of Firica's reign, and know you want the same. The end of the Council. Their mage discovered me — likely sometime shortly after your own lover. My guise could not be held much longer."
"You haven't answered my question."
"Why here?" Rosa asked, walking again to the other side of the girl. "Because we have a chance of taking them together."
"And what if I want nothing to do with your war?"
The girl's breath tickled Amelia's ear as she whispered, "I'm not sure that you have much of a choice." When Amelia flinched away, the breath continued. "Besides... I have a feeling you want to see the end of Andrew and his councilmen as much as I do. And you, Amelia Kiari... have the exact resources we would need to make that happen."
Amelia had meant to let her words drift behind her as she exited the room, but in her hesitance to speak to Rosa, no further sound came. Rosa's words were meant for manipulation, and so, to Amelia, they meant nothing. It was in that time the younger decided she did not want to know under what circumstances Rosa had appeared again, nor did she wish to hear of what further schemes she had been devising. She could not see herself taking revenge on Andrew. Their motives were worlds apart.
"I want nothing to do with that world. I am exactly where I belong. And in case you hadn't noticed, we can not afford to risk the lives we have left."
"Don't be a fool. It would only take one Voerr to destroy hundreds of Firican li—"
"That is not the way we live here." Amelia felt insulted right to her core. "How dare you taint our spirits for your benefit?"
"They're blatantly attacking your kind! It is for your benefit that I recommend retaliation."
The last sentence was ignored. "And 'they' will be dealt with accordingly. But I will not consider risking Constentine for some blind attempt at overthrowing the government that you've always wanted to control." Amelia paused, feeling strengthened with the tone that she would have been so scared to use before. "I lost years of my life at the mercy of your rulers. I will not have the same for anyone else."
Neither figure, for a long moment, with answer or not, moved a hairsbreadth in any direction... and then Amelia, with great freedom, walked away.
Feren was in town when she found him stepping through the snow beside a form she did not recognize, then standing over a small family tending to their frosted branches. Feren was not the one to look when she approached, and he did not turn until a fist full of snow was smushed on top of his head, and those around them let out assorted chuckles. He turned, confused. She met his look with a smile.
The powder was shaken from his already-silvered hair, then Amelia took his hand. They remained among other voerr the rest of the day.
***
Twelve days they'd spent in Constentine when new Voerr arrived from the north. Rosa had been there a total of eight days. Teeknan and Varkner gone just as long. From Firica's capital it had taken them four nights to cross the Constentinian border, and Remalda was less than a day's ride from that border. Amelia began to grow worried. How much longer would it take? They weren't supposed to go all the way to the Capital.
Nertín assured her that they would be fine; Varkner and Teeknan, and the others, were experienced travelers well-versed in foreign relations. They would be back without a mark. That's what Nertín believed. A persistent stab in the back of Amelia's head told her the opposite was more than likely if there were bounty hunters pacing the borders.
Rosa stood beside her as she looked across the western front of Remalda, as if she wanted to be the first to see the group arriving. The blonde girl seemed puzzled. After days of her wandering out of her assigned room with little hint toward will of escape, Amelia gave up on ignoring her. The two were never alone however without Grey near, whether he was summoned by Amelia or Feren.
"They were never meant to move far into Firica, I thought," Rosa said.
Amelia's eyes were squinted against the sun off the white snow. "They may have heard of others."
"Well how large a group could they expect to harbor all the way back?"
"I'm not sure."
Amelia looked down below them to see Feren walking out beside her brother Nertín. Whatever their secret meetings had been, Amelia had not been privy to. All she knew of other strange new friendship was that Feren often returned dirty and disheveled looking. But Feren had been the least of her concerns.
Keegan's condition had not changed in the slightest; he was as lifeless as he'd been in the previous weeks. Amelia had poured through every book Mubarak owned with mention of this empty sleeping state without success.
"Are you not one to help your fellow Voerr?" Rosa asked, following Amelia's gaze to see the two males below them on their way to assist in organizing the town's provisions.
Annoyed, Amelia turned away.
"Has your arm not healed at all?"
"... The burns may be healed, but the feeling is not." Her scarred arm hung at her side, still numb to the touch but slightly tingly. Amelia tried to twitch her fingers and only became more frustrated at the lack of feeling. She walked into the warmer setting. "I could ask you about the same. You work less than I."
"We are healing, the both of us."
Amelia looked down, remembering the last conversation she and Rosa had had. She had walked in on Feren and Amelia arguing. They had argued several times that week... in fact, nearly every interaction over the past few days had been a disagreement. Amelia had blamed their rising tension in anticipation of their friends' return. Rosa had interrupted them when she'd walked in, and when Feren left, Rosa had commented on his fiery temperament. Amelia had expressed her admiration with his certain traits. Even as much as he challenged her, she knew his heart. Most of their arguments had been about Rosa, but no matter their disagreements, Feren had never lifted a finger against the Voerr girl. Unlike Andrew. Or Jed.
Rosa seemed mellowed in her time there. Amelia nearly wondered if she'd been affected by some sort of poison like Feren had been in Firica.
Amelia had been waiting anxiously for the arrival of Asha, her eldest brother's wife. Word had arrived not two days before that she would be there soon to see if it really had been Amelia that had returned. Amelia found it twisted... how she had so desperately been waiting to see her family, and they were the ones that rushed to her, as if they couldn't have done the very same one country away.... The thought was odd and disordered.
"You'd think after a week of this, they would have more food to offer."
She looked over at the girl who'd interrupted her thoughts. Rosa was looking down at a sad bowl of milk-soaked grains with distaste.
"You could always search for resources yourself," Amelia reminded patiently, turning her eyes back to the doorway. "There are rows to work and animals to tend to, as I understand it."
The girl humphed and ate her food without sparing further comment. Amelia drank her tea; Silva sat beside her, his parents having both been, in fact, working with the others.
"Ama likes it with raisin and cinnamon," the little boy chirped, stabbing his own bowl of oats with a spoon. "Apa put apple in mine."
Little Silva looked up to see his aunt staring into space again as she often did. Rosa peered down at the boy.
"Cinnamon, huh? Well, that sounds much more appealing."
The feeling of loose spirits rushing through the outskirts of Remalda perked Amelia's interest; she'd had summons of her own out to alert her of change, and that was exactly what they'd all been waiting for. She immediately stood and left Rosa with the boy without a word.
Voerr — from the west.
She found Abett's side in rushing to greet them. Nertín had run ahead to be sure the passage of their access was sealed, just like he'd done for Amelia's party. The only hand of hers that could be clenched was. The voerr who had previously been inside felt the change, as well, and ran outside around them. Abett had been alerted beforehand; many of those coming into Remalda were not well.
The expected travel party of voerr rushed in on mixed mounts, though from far away Amelia could recognize many were Teeknan's. Immediately they all could sense it – knew something was wrong. Only two of the Voerr who had left Constentine to retrieve the refugees had returned — Varkner was not among them.
The exhausted summoners collapsed onto the snowfall the moment they were within range. Their bodies crashed into the earth as their spirits dissipated. The women and children who did not have spirits out hurried to bundle together. Multiple inhabitants of Remalda rushed to gather those who had fallen. There had to have been at least a dozen in their group. They smelled of burned homes and flesh. Amelia was looking them over — their ash-covered faces, their inadequate amounts of clothing — one woman lie over a limp body. Her cries escaped as wails that chilled Amelia's blood.
Teeknan grasped suddenly to Abett's arm. Amelia's eyes snapped over.
"Varkner is still in there. You have to let me go!"
His grey hair was disheveled and pulled out of the braids — scratches left unhealed crossed his bruised skin — his eyes held clear panic.
"They were right on us, Abett. They will need another! Please!"
Abett ignored the summoner. "Noni! Take the children. Caren —"
His orders continued. Teeknan backed off without a glance elsewhere. His eyes glassed over; a spirit flew from his fingertips. He turned and ran.
"Feren," Amelia called, looking for him suddenly. He was near to meet her. She pointed after the running Voerr. "Stop him."
Feren bolted forward on his own form; he would be able to catch him before anyone else even noticed.
Amelia looked across the sets of emotions. Remalda's peaceful scene had been sliced so easily, and just behind them all stood Rosa. She didn't seem as if she knew how to react.
"What happened?" Amelia asked, turning on Abett. "Where are the others?"
"Firica must have had the guard waiting."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we were right to send them when we did."
The few healthy refugees were led away by the caring mothers of Remalda, likely taking them to food and clothing and new beds. Feren had Teeknan pinned; he'd have to struggle the voerr to submission before he could make his way back.
Amelia's attention turned back to where the crowd had been standing. One woman was still on the ground, crying; she had never moved.
Amelia approached the body she knelt over. It was lifeless. On its back... the word clearly branded with cruel heated iron:
WAR.
Two larger Voerr appeared to help restrain Teeknan before he could again attempt to run. He snarled and summoned his spirits to fight nearly 'til his eyes rolled back in exhaustion. Two other summoners swiftly snuffed Teeknan's animals before they could harm anyone of distract the males attempting to hold him down. Amelia remembered why he was fighting so hard. Varkner — trapped in Firica?
Once Teeknan had been subdued, appealingly unconscious, Abett waved for Feren to aid him in removing the woman from the body on the ground. She was taken with the others. The slim body on the ground, covered only by a pair of singed trousers, was lifted by Abett and Feren and taken inside the keep.
It wasn't until the end of the rush in every direction that Amelia moved. She stepped to the fading Teeknan; her hands took each side of his face; she opened her magic through one hand to offer it to him just until he could be brought back to speaking consciousness. Her eyes traced his until she had his attention.
"Where is he, Teeknan? Where?"
The two men on either side hefted him up to stand on two feet again. Teeknan looked defeated. She couldn't tell if his glassy, bloodshot eyes were from tears or smoke. It was clear there was only one thing in Teeknan's mind. The voerr took a quick breath.
"Valta. Outside Valta. He heard of others — they were going there next to clear the vicinage. Wouldn't — wouldn't let me stay." His words were ended by a pained groan. Amelia stole back her hand. He needed to lie down.
Amelia turned west. Her mind had been made suddenly. Her plan was free until — a hand snatched her back. The anchor landed solidly on her wrist. She looked directly back into Feren. There was a mixed emotion in his eyes.
A conversation without words passed between them. Amelia? Leave? What was she thinking, that she'd actually make it to Firica? Find them? What could she do? The pulse in her wrist was bounding against his iron grip.
The knot in her throat settled only slightly when Feren's look shifted into understanding. Then, his eyes seemed to plead with her to stay. Amelia's gaze dropped in submission. Only then did he release her wrist.
"They can't leave them," she said, more to the snow than to the male in front of her. "What if they are caught?"
"It isn't up to you to save them. Varkner knows what he is doing."
"... I hope so."
The thought had to be removed from her head before she could move. Teeknan had been taken away. Feren stepped aside as if to escort her in. Amelia looked almost resentful.
They were back inside with Abett when she asked him, "Do you know who did this?"
"It was Carlton."
The voice that had responded had not been Abett's. They turned to the witch behind them.
"He came after me, as well, but I was not in this form. I tried to warn you."
"Who is Carlton?"
"The head of the King's guard," Amelia replied in thought.
"What are their orders?"
"I told you. To kill every Voerr in the country."
"Then from where comes the declaration of war?"
"From you."
Everyone turned to the new speaker: Nertín.
"Brother...."
"You had the documents sent at the arrival of this girl. This is their reply to the challenge."
"The conflicts here have had more than o—"
"You've threatened them with war and they delivered it right to our doorstep! This takes all of us!"
Shocked, and taken for a moment by the sound of her brother's scream, Amelia looked between everyone. The body still lie on the ground — the scalded marks stared her in the face. The screaming continued, by more than just Nertín and Abett. The man who had ridden in with Teeknan jumped into the mix, and others turned on him. Amelia flinched at the sounds. Finally she'd had all she could take.
"Enough!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. A pulse of her energy rocked the room to grab their attention. She stood in the middle, over the body. "All of you quiet down."
Nertín, snarling, twisted out of the room. She watched him leave.
Her voice started, shaky but controlled. She fought to keep her eyes forward when all others were on her. "Abett, what do you need to prepare for Firican assault? Are the borders secure?"
His scowl was directed toward her. "... For now, yes."
Amelia looked around and saw Noni. She called for her. "Tell the others what has happened, then send word to whichever groups lie outside of Remalda. We will need to tell everyone."
"Of course, sister."
"Mubarak, find the ones that have just arrived. Try to get as much from them as you can before they sleep. We must know which ones are willing to fight back."
Mubarak then left, as well.
"Feren." She turned to him, then passed another look around. Her eyes grew worried. "Where is Rosa?"
He seemed to notice her absence, as well.
Amelia held his gaze for just an extra second. "Find her."
She looked back to the body, and up again to Abett. "Take care of him. I am going to find the others."
Feren had already left when Amelia stormed from the room. Varkner — the other men. Where were they? Could they have been taken? Would they sooner be taken or killed on sight? She had no way of knowing where or how they were, except to....
She paused briefly in the hall. If the others could do it, she could, as well. The fingers of her left hand flickered as she whispered the name, "Larsa," and pointed in the direction from which the others had come. She'd been saving her reserves. Before, in Leera, she hadn't been able to keep a spirit as strong as Larsa further than a few leagues. There, however, she felt stronger... and it was easier for her spirits to move. The usual twinge in her arm was ignored. Amelia paused again only long enough to be sure she could feel the movements of her spirit for herself. If Larsa came across Varkner or any other familiar in their travels, she would know it just as Feren knew with Grey.
Outside, Amelia looked up to the sky, as if the stars could have held some answer for her. Constentine would need much more than strength if war was really to come with their sister country.
***
The edge of Remalda sat on the hip of a large valley, behind which stretched heavy woods for at least a league before touching the first of the nearest lakes of trapped water tucked in the spinous mountains. The path that had been taken from the Firican border to Remalda was heavily wooded, as well, winding through the mountainsides. With the freshly fallen snow, the ways seemed nearly nonexistent, exposed only by the lingering scent of magic that hovered through and across the hidden trails, left by Voerr that had recently crossed the border in the previous weeks. As Feren ventured beyond the stretches of Remalda he noticed these features. Strategically, the position would serve well enough in the face of human, Firican, tactics. Remalda was, however, the first city if any that would be targeted by the Firicans, even if it did not appear very significant on whatever parchment the Council's men possessed. Known traffic cross-ways were generally the first to be taken; its proximity to the border did not help.
He'd caught the scent of the witch that ran, then, and promptly followed. Grey was close on her movements, but far enough away to hopefully avoid detection. Feren took the route that would most quickly lead to confrontation. He headed her off not a mile south of the valley. His spirit was called away; he waited between the trees to hear, even accounting for the diagonal she would cut to avoid detection. He stepped out directly in her path. She had taken the form of a snowcat.
Rosa shifted; she met him with a cynical smile.
"I knew it couldn't have been as easy as that," Rosa said, a feline gleam still hinting the corners of her eyes and teeth. She was visibly trying to right herself with short, quick breaths from the run. Her hands found her hips to breathe. "You'd think they could manage to keep a real horse or two nearby."
"As if you'd need a horse to escape if you really wanted to."
She pursed her lips as if to consider the fact.
"Why are you running?"
"Building my immunity. Trying to keep up my strength. Staying fit. It's been so long since I had to exercise. Can you believe it?" She ignored his steely silence until she turned serious, herself. "I needed a place to regain my strength and I have done so. It is time for me to leave."
"You don't want to be here when the Firicans arrive. Why?"
"You've never believed any of my lies, have you?" Rosa asked, standing straight again without support. "But don't be silly. You know as well as I that Firica could not organize any sort of attack for many weeks. And even if they did, your spirits here do far more damage against the mask of their troops than they could hope to do against these Voerr."
Feren's stare was unwavering and unconvinced. He wasn't sure what to do with her, however. He had never fully trusted her in the same halls as he and Amelia. He didn't understand her motives. He had no desire to drag her back, aside from the fact that Amelia had request that he find her. The fact that Rosa would run, however, was curious. From what, or to what, did she run?
Rosa sighed a deep, breathless sigh into the chilled wind. Her arms dropped to her sides. "I submit. Take me back to the others."
"You run, but you do not resist?"
"What hope have I of fighting you? If I'd known you were the newest pet before I came, I never would have hoped to escape, in the first place. I figured you were too good to accept orders from these people. Besides, when I came, I thought you were dead. Those people," she there a thumb over her shoulder, "I could easily fool. But you?"
Feren narrowed his eyes. "We all could have been dead thanks to you. Walk."
She did as told, trudging through the snow back over the tracks her paws had just made. "You realize this will be the first time you've stood to be alone with me for more than a few minutes?"
"It was not by choice."
"That doesn't make it any less true."
Feren scowled. She was sassy as ever, but her harsher edges had been removed. Rosa did not fight. She did not attempt to insult or dig into him, or Amelia. Amelia did not outwardly hate the girl as she did before. What had changed?
"You betrayed us."
Surprise, for just a brief moment, cut into the rigid lines of Rosa's scowl. "I betrayed you?"
"What happened that night?" Feren demanded.
She turned back slightly but did not slow. "I certainly did not betray you."
Feren jerked her shoulder back until she stopped. "Then how is it," he growled, "That they knew to stop us on the very night that we had planned to escape?"
"You think I turned you in?" There was pause in there, as if to allow further question. The only obvious question; how? "You think I still care whether you are here or there? You think I want you dead? Now, how would that serve me?"
"You were the only soul outside of the Voerr who knew our plans." Feren's eyes were dark. Any other woman would have cowered in fear. But Rosa had no fear. "We had a plan. You were to formulate the distraction to allow our escape. But instead, you sent them directly to us."
"I did not!" Rosa shook her shoulder out from under his painful grip. "Do not forget, I still served your distraction!"
"Not without serving yourself, first!"
"No!" She threw her arms out to the side. "I should've known you had blamed me all this time. I'll ask you again: What does it serve me for Andrew to have your head?!"
Feren stayed quiet, scowling down at her.
"It wasn't Andrew's men." Her tone softened. "And it wasn't me, it was Jed. And the Council. But they didn't know you'd planned to escape — it all had to do with Marybelle's arrival."
Feren's scowl furrowed ever further. "Marybelle?"
"Yes. That was their plan all along, don't you see? They were the ones who wanted to be rid of Amelia, just as badly as you wanted her gone. Well, not dead, of course — but — they did."
Rosa, in seeing the confusion in Feren's face, straightened to clarify. "Marybelle Haymark and her court came at the request of the Council. The strange happenings in the castle — all the things I'd told you I would do — they blamed them on the Voerr. On Amelia. And you. Your type. Anyone, or anything, not Firican. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"They were right to suspect it. You were the cause of all of those disappearances."
"Listen to me, Feren. The Council planned to dispose of you long before your escape became even a possibility. That was why Andrew called you back in the first place. It wasn't to get your help – they were going to kill you before you could figure it out. You were their scapegoat all along. They planned to be rid of the Queen, so that they could replace her with one of their own choosing."
It made sense in Feren's mind then. His eyes widened. "Marybelle."
"Yes! Marybelle. She came in with her court, got into Andrew's bed, and that was when the Council struck. On the same night we planned to get you out. They'd been scheming all along; Jed – Andrew – they were just waiting on the Haymark forces, then they planned to kill her and the others, and blame it on you – then kill you, as well, staging the torture scene as an interrogation room. Jed – he had his hands in the whole thing."
Jed... Feren had known he was only interested in the power of the Crown, but wasn't Amelia a power possession for him?
"I didn't know – I didn't know all that until it was too late. I thought you were dead. I thought they'd won. They spoke like they did."
"Until Abett sent that letter...."
"Yes. Even though he didn't say it, they knew that meant only one thing. The Voerr scouts had returned, and likely with Amelia."
Feren thought back to the sequence of events. Of course they'd been planning to replace the Queen. He should've been prepared for that possibility. That must have been why Andrew's council had advised to keep Feren subdued with the poisons from the beginning; so that they would be able to destroy him when the time came.
"Was Andrew truly in on it?"
Though he didn't think Andrew would have conspired to kill Amelia, he also didn't believe that the King would have opposed keeping the council happy by marrying and bedding a Firican Duchess.
"Only partly. He ordered to be rid of the Constentinians, but didn't know about their plans to kill you or Amelia, or to set the throne for Marybelle. He thought you'd only been locked away for the night." Rosa paused for a minute. "Lucia knew. At least, I think she did. She must've overheard them conspiring. That's why she helped Amelia escape... before I had to end her. She'd lost her sanity, poor woman."
That was all news to Feren. He'd likely been incoherent by that time.
"I did my part," Rosa hissed, the sneer returning to her voice. "You should be thanking me."
"You could be lying. How do I know you didn't help them?"
"Ah, yes. Because it's always been my dream to help my dear brother achieve more power." She rolled her eyes.
"You destroyed innocent lives."
"All to get closer to them!"
"You need to kill in order to steal their visage?"
Rosa straightened as if remembering that Feren actually knew her secret. Clearly she was around many people who knew what she could do. Slowly, she replied, "Yes. And... no. I have to get as close to their souls as possible. So either in death, or...."
"In bed," Feren supplied. He remembered her bedding habits among Andrew's closest friends.
Rosa barked a laugh. "I don't remember bedding your little girlfriend. She must not have been worth remembering."
Feren snarled – more at the idea that Rosa could wear Amelia's skin than the idea of them in bed together.
"Relax. No, I do not need to seduce them. I only need proximity. Sustained proximity. Time to drink."
When Feren didn't answer, Rosa turned half a step away from him and continued. "You know what abilities I have. You sneer and call me witch. But everything I did, I did to get closer to the Council. In the time you were behind me, tracking me, I was steadily infiltrating their inner circles.... Those who were killed — either they deserved it, or they began to suspect too much. We were never so different, you and I," the girl said, looking over her shoulder to him. "I never did kill a good man — or woman, for that matter, until I had to move just under Andrew's nose. I did not kill for the sake of killing. There were always greater intentions behind my work."
"The kitchenmaid, the son of the king, likely your own mother —"
"All subjects who had lost their wits already. Andrew was next. I had gained their trust. The King's slut, Marybelle, was just beside me, and never had a clue. It was her skin I wanted next... but I suppose her efforts aid me more now than they would have had she been killed. They distract Andrew from the truth." Another pause. "It was her family's idea to kill Amelia in the first place. Her uncle is the commissioner, you know. The one who employs Jed."
Fire bristled under Feren's skin just remembering all of their faces.
"Besides, you would have agreed with my tactics if they hadn't escalated their motivation to be rid of your dear aria. The girl that you might have loved once upon a time. She's different here, isn't she?"
He turned on her. "This isn't just about Amelia."
"It is to you." Their noses again nearly met, returning fiery looks between them. "How different this could have been if you hadn't rejected my advances in the first place. We could have destroyed them already."
"That was fifteen years ago."
"We could destroy them still."
Feren scoffed and again he turned to walk away. "I can't imagine how formidable you might have been against a monarchy as a twelve year old."
"The situation is all the same now!"
Though he gave no acknowledgement, Rosa still called after him. "We could have prevented this! You forced me to work alone!"
"And what was your plan, then? To kill your brother this whole time? Or just your family's good name?" Feren stopped, because he couldn't help himself. His hands were tight in fists. "You never cared who got hurt in the process."
"You got your girl all the same; what do you care if she was tossed around a time or two?" the witch scoffed, walking by. Feren's chin jerked — he saw suddenly behind his eyes the image of his hand catching her throat, throwing her against a tree, scaring her into submission. But he did not move.
"The Council has been strong since before Andrew's time. Do you not remember that they are the ones who forced us into Leera, in the first place? It wasn't just my family, Feren. It was you, as well. They isolated us for their own gain. The two creatures who threatened their perfectly human idealism. That was never right."
"It didn't have to be. Your futures would have been the same as any royal blood if you would have just sit still and shut your mouth."
"Yours wouldn't have."
"Do not pretend your motives catered to me in any way. You acted for yourself. You still do. If there was any split between the council then and your family when you were young, you only worked to widen the gorge. That was long before Amelia even entered the image." And when she did, he thought, you worked to sever good-standing completely. "Your constant and selfish hand in this has never been for anyone but yourself. I'm not sure you ever had a plan, Rosa, before Andrew's coronation. Your actions were only in retaliation of some misconceived mistreatment. You took your hate and anger and self-inflicted anguish out on those who never would have been able to defend themselves. I don't put your character beyond that now."
The anger in her eyes faltered, then disappeared. She took a deep sigh; her breath escaping in a misty cloud of warm air amidst the cold. She seemed to submit. "The past no longer matters, Feren."
"Like hell it does."
"No." She shook her head slightly. "The facts are as I've told you. We agreed to work together in Firica, when it was a matter of your freedom with Amelia. We can still do so now."
"I will not be returning any time soon."
"You do not have to," Rosa stated. She looked back up into his forest green eyes. "You know that deep down, whether you ever approved of Andrew or not, you want Firica to pay for what it did to you. To us. If you could see a future for a different world, wouldn't you take it, too?"
"No. Not like this. I never wanted this."
"You're the one that fell in love with the little princess," Rosa whispered, stepping carefully around him as he slowed. "Not me. That means you have to support what she wants. At a minimum, you have to ensure that nothing will ever threaten her home again. Those threats now include Firica."
"What are you planning?"
A smile lifted the tall girl's cheeks. Her eyes again caught the light. "They said this is war.... I guess I will continue to do my part in it."
***
Feren and Rosa walked back under the stretch of darkness. They had not spoken again; they'd merely managed to keep the same pace in returning to the structures. They approached the stone-set road just as another couple of Voerr neared from the opposite direction. A tall woman with silvered hair, and with her, a man who looked much like someone Feren should have recognized. A feeling raced down his spine that he did not appreciate. Grey was called beside him.
The warm, welcoming light from Remalda prompted Feren to drop his guard, however slightly. He was tired. Surely they all were.
His shoulders shrugged once out of the freezing air once more. Rosa split and was gone the next time Feren looked around. He made a turn right, just as Amelia was stepping down that hallway.
She seemed distracted. Her brow was furrowed; her look pointed down. Feren noticed the small wrinkle on the bridge of her nose from her scowl, and found it slightly amusing. He prepared himself to greet her. When she looked up, however, she was looking beyond his form. Her progress froze.
"... Asha?"
Feren looked behind him to follow her gaze — there stood the woman who had walked in just before him, speaking to two others. She turned at the sound of her name.
"Asha!"
"Da vinst!" Shock — a gasp. Disbelief. "Amelia!"
They ran to each other — meeting just to the side of Feren in a tight embrace. There was laughter. A sigh of relief.
"Amelia, my darling little creature. It really is you."
"You're here," Feren's familiar gasped, holding herself tightly to the woman's neck. "It's you."
They pulled away just to meet eyes. The silvery-haired woman smiled. "Of course it is, little mona. Of course." She kissed her cheek twice, three times, before stepping completely away. This woman was taller — older. Lines on her face nearly seemed to defy her age, but her eyes remained young. Her smile just as seamless. She was beaming. "How we've missed you, my love."
"I'm sorry we cannot speak longer — we —"
"Asha," boomed Abett's voice. Everyone turned to see him. "A word, please."
"Yes, yes. In one moment, little bird. I am just now seeing my sister in so many years.... You look as bright as ever," she hummed, hands running over Amelia's face and shoulders.
They hugged again so tightly. When they straightened, Amelia still kept her ear on the woman's arm. She seemed to be staring at the woman's coat. "You smell like him. Like Sembran."
"You know this is his favorite coat."
The woman Asha straightened and, with a kiss at Amelia's brow, pulled away. "I will find you shortly, my love. Let me finish with Abett, and then I shall have you the rest of this night."
"Agreed."
"Until then."
Asha was not three steps away when Amelia cried, "Wait!" and ran for another hug. She squeezed the woman tight. There was pain in her expression, though not all from her arm. Feren turned down sadly.
"I missed you," one whispered, as if she were able to speak through their years of separation and directly to the spirit of her long deceased elder brother. To which the other replied:
"And I, you." Asha then hurried away, as if eager to return for more.
Amelia stood in place for a second. Feren wondered if she remembered where she'd been headed before. It was in that direction. For a moment, he didn't put it beyond her to continue on her way, forgetting Feren there behind her. They hadn't spoken in so long. At least, that was how it felt to the out-of-place half-blood, with no one to recover or fawn over besides his link, who had been thus silent. Amelia did, in fact, begin to walk away once the others were gone, likely in the direction of her youngest brother Keegan, when she stopped and spun around, remembering. "Feren."
His brow furrowed in question.
"Did you find her?"
"Yes."
"Where was she?"
What if he hadn't? What if he'd let her go? What if he'd disobeyed her order? What could she have done?
Feren paused. "Just outside the structure; taking a breath of air."
She seemed confused. "... Oh. Alright, then. Have you seen the others? Or maybe Nertín? ... I didn't get the chance to ask him — what are you doing?"
He didn't try to stop when he went straight to her. He caught her eyes just above her expression at the time she'd asked. By then, it was too late. His hands on either side of her face gathered her hair back and away. The strands were held in a knot behind her head when he leaned down – and kissed her.
She stood still.
Feren did not hesitate in his action. The time he spent was firm and purposeful. Spirits were clawing at his chest; he clenched his eyes against them, and pulled away.
His hands stayed as they were, holding her hair behind her head. Eagerly he looked down to see her eyes until they fluttered open. They were crossed with confusion.
I still want you, Amelia, he thought to himself, too scared or worried to say it aloud. Her confusion had reason to frustrate him; what was it she wanted, if not him?
When she said nothing, he allowed her hair to fall from his hands. It almost didn't seem right for him to be there, in Constentine, as only a distraction. It certainly didn't feel right to stand in her way. He would leave in a second if he knew that was what she wanted. But he just didn't know.
He could go back. He could fight them off before Andrew ever reached this town.
Feren backstepped to pull his eyes away from hers. There was only so much restraint he had over the sadness, the reluctance, he felt at the lack of change in her expression. It almost warranted apology. But Feren was not sorry. Not for that. Not for needing to know if she felt the same as he did... needing to know if her lips were still as perfect against his as he remembered.
"I... will find your brother for you."
She didn't stop him when he moved away. There were so many things he wished to say just then. He very highly doubted, however, that any words could pass as simply as he might have wished. For the sake of his sanity, and hers, he walked away... ignoring the sight of Rosa watching them as he passed.
***
"Amelia? Is everything alright? You seem distracted."
"Hm?"
The girl turned her head over to see her sister, Asha. Amelia tried to save herself by giving the woman a smile. "Oh. I'm alright."
"What is on your mind? You have been very quiet this morning."
"Have I?" she asked more absently, her eyes having dropped to the table. There was a lot to think about. "No one thing in particular."
"Are you worried for the others? Those who haven't returned?"
"No, not so much, now. I sent a seeker after them last night... and she found Varkner's energy just this morning. I am not as worried...."
"Then what is it?"
Thinking to change the subject, Amelia smiled softly. "You said you were leaving soon?"
Asha knew the conversation was being directed elsewhere but followed it anyway. "Yes. Noni has sent word to our people in Avion, but there are not strong leaders there to guide them. And with all that we've dealt with from Kynoleva, I feel very strongly that I must be there with them." After another sip of her drink, she looked over Amelia's smaller frame. "You could come with me."
"To Avion?" the girl asked with a small exhale. "So far?"
"It is not so long a journey. There are others there who would like to see you, and there is much you could learn of the rulings."
"Oh...." It didn't take long for Amelia to consider. She shook her head, but smiled nonetheless. "Maybe one day." Her family, she thought, was there, in Remalda. When they moved, so would she. And Feren —
Feren.
She couldn't ask him to move again.
"... I did go see Keegan earlier this morning."
The young brother's mention drew Amelia's eyes up again.
"He did most resemble your mother."
"Do you think?"
"I do. You know, Amelia...." Asha furrowed her brow. "If ever we expected him to wake, I thought it would be upon your return."
The girl looked down. That was not the first time she'd heard the same thing; last time, Mubarak had been the one to say it.
"Have you tried passing your spirits?" She waited for Amelia to nod, then said, "Nertín has, as well. He seems to have done nothing else. And Noni —" One look at Amelia cut her sentence short. Asha sighed again. "They say like-spirits may draw those once dormant from their rest. It might not hurt to try you and Nertín at once."
"If that was all it would take to wake him, he would have been walking by now. You said he most resembled our mother — maybe it is her spirit Keegan requires." It certainly would have helped me.
"You did take after your mother's markings, did you not?"
"No. I inherited Draco; he was our father's. Sembran, Keegan, and Nertín all took after her, however."
Amelia stopped shortly at the end of her sentence. She turned up. "You have Sembran's marking."
Her brother's wife smiled sadly. "I do have Sembran's spirits, yes."
"Then maybe the three of us together. Surely our combinations could match Keegan's wisps."
The idea seemed far-fetched, though it was simple enough to understand. Asha had almost an apologetic smile. "It wouldn't hurt to try."
Amelia walked out into the hall later to find her room. Feren had never returned the night before. That was the thought that had been most troubling her as she spoke with Sembran's link. Feren had kissed her... and then left and had yet to return. He hadn't left, however. She was fairly sure of that. Was he avoiding her? Did he not wish to speak? What had been on his mind before?
She paused to press her fingers to her lips. He'd kissed her, and then vacated this cold space in front of her body. Their first real touch they'd had in years — she was almost mad that he'd taken that chance without explanation, or forewarning. What was he thinking?
Had Rosa said something? Had she challenged him in some way? Was he upset or tired? Surely he hadn't meant to kiss her. Not as he had. Surely he had not meant to stop her heart... and then pummel it back into existence a second later.
Maybe he was planning to leave her. Maybe he had grown bored there, or maybe he wasn't happy without something to do. If that was truly how he felt... she would be alright with him going. She couldn't be responsible for trapping him there if his heart or thoughts lie elsewhere. It wasn't as if their connection was the same as it had been when they were young. It wasn't as if Amelia could be so attached to his hip. No matter how much she loved him... he'd grown in their years of absence... and maybe she hadn't.
Being in Remalda had given her time to heal. Of that, Amelia was sure. But still... she could not bring herself to hold a physical connection without some sort of pain or retaliation. She had flinched at the sight of her own brother's hand moving for her cheeks at dinner the other night — how could she expect to be what Feren wanted? How could she expect to limit the parts of her that he was allowed into? How could he expect the commitment from her that he wanted? She'd been broken — it would take more than reassurance that Feren would never touch her to make her heart-thrusts settle every time another body came near.
She shook her head to clear it; her hands covered her eyes. The wall met her back when she leaned that way. She had no time to think of Feren. There was so much else to think of — Varkner, Keegan, the Firican attacks on the horizon, the Kynolevans, whatever they were doing. Amelia had to think of her country — she couldn't think of her own self-interests. There was no way to accomplish it all the way each aspect deserved to be accomplished if it all was to be jumbled at the same time. She was not strong enough.
Amelia thought very briefly of Andrew and the girl who had arrived in his castle just before she'd left. A duchess, or some woman of similar rank. If Amelia was presumed to be dead, or exiled, or whichever, would Andrew take that girl? Had she been a part of some secret engagement all along? Because Amelia had never been able to produce an heir?
A familiar sort of anxiety took her chest. She had not been in Constentine long. With these Firican threats... the idea of being taken back, or worse, gripped her. It was impossible to feel comfortable at home with the ideas so close, and the tight fists that had hit her before even closer. They beat her. Destroyed her mind first, then made sure her body matched. The panic flooded in again; the fear of the past, the terror that she could only imagine matched that of a bird stuck in a cage.
Amelia threw her fists down into the wall. It wouldn't happen again. She wouldn't be caged again. These were here people. These were. Not the flavorless Firicans. Not the guards who shoved fists into her stomach for even dreaming of magic. Not the man who had taken her to Firica in the first place; the very one commanding the fists, the boots, the chains. The marriage.
Energy coursed through her so intensely it itched from the top of her scalp to the soles of her feet. Amelia felt the rivers of purple haze coursing down her limbs, but to her right arm – the rivers choked off into thin streams; collaterals that reach to the tips of her fingers, which sputtered a glowing light ever so slightly. But it hurt – it hurt so bad it nearly pulled her from her reverie.
Determined not to lose her spirits even if they were to be dragged back to Firica again, Amelia ran outside, eager to force those strands of power down her arm – inspired to stretch her summons.
***
Remalda was quiet that morning when Amelia ventured into it. Those who had arrived the day before were still in the keep, likely sleeping. She wasn't sure where most of them would go after. Maybe to see family, if any still lived.
She helped the voerr there for awhile. Tivarka was summoned to help a woman move her crate of grains. Leyofor moved to carry stacks of heavy cloth intended for the newcomers on multiple trips from the outer town to the heart of it. Kerragin, the dryad spirit, originally Feren's, stood as support for an older man who was trying to walk with a cane for support. Larsa was walking around with a child on her back, following a mother with a younger babe in her arms. Marxtrin, also Feren's, stood beside the antlered spirit they'd passed when first entering Remalda. Its color and form resembled Abett's energy. The hindish griffin-like creature was taller than the purple-tinted spirit beside it. Marxtrin seemed to size up to it playfully.
More than once, Amelia spied Grey trotting and weaving through the others. Feren was near, but he still wouldn't show himself to her.
Nertín met her, brow raised after seeing Amelia's summons working in more than one place. He seemed slightly impressed.
Before he could say anything, Amelia gave a lop-sided smile. "Are you in better spirits today?" she asked, knowing how stressed he'd been before.
Her brother returned the half-smile. "Frustrated as ever, but there is little I can do to change it now."
"What can I do to help?"
He gave a small laugh and wrapped his arm around her back, looking out again across the working people. "It seems you are doing more than enough as it is. Thank you."
"Where are you going?"
He looked back after stepping away. "I was on my way to train with Mubarak before he leaves, but if you would like to join me, I do not mind postponing our meet."
It was her turn to laugh. "I have never been as strong as you two. Go on."
"I don't mind. Skies know it won't be the last time today. Come. It seems training was within your intentions already," he added, gesturing towards her stronger spirits looking around for work. "Like before. Just the two of us."
It took another moment of consideration before Amelia finally submitted, and with Nertín's summons, her spirits wrestled for many hours before she returned, exhausted but happy.