The Charnel Prince - J. Gregory Keyes [105]
“But who is he?” Anne persisted.
“We do not know his mortal name. But the possibility of him has been arriving for millennia.”
Anne closed her eyes, anger welling in her breast. “You’re as useless as your sisters.”
“We’re trying to help, but by our nature we are restricted.”
“Yes, your sister explained that, at least,” Anne replied. “But I found it just as unhelpful as anything else any of you have told me.”
“Everything has its seasons, Anne. The moon goes through its cycle each month, and each year brings spring, summer, autumn, winter. But the world has larger seasons, stronger tides. Flowers that bloom in Prismen are dormant in Novmen. It has been so since the world was young.
“And yet the last time this season came around, the cycle itself was nearly broken, a balance was lost. The wheel creaks on a splintered axle, and possibilities exist that never did before. One of those possibilities is him. Not a person, at first, just a place, a throne if you will, never sat before but waiting to be filled. And now someone has come along to fill it. But we do not yet know him—we see only what you saw, his shadow.”
“Is he the one behind the murder of my sisters and father? Did he send the knights to the coven?”
“Ultimately, perhaps. He certainly wants you dead.”
“But why?”
“He does not want you to be queen.”
“Why?” Anne repeated. “What threat am I to him?”
“Because there are two new thrones,” the Faith said, softly. “Two.”
Anne woke on the deck of the ship. Someone had slipped a blanket over her. She lay there a moment, fearing that if she straightened, the wave-sickness would return, but after a moment she realized that she felt well.
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was morning, the sun just peeking over the marine horizon. Austra was at the railing a few yards away, conversing in low tones with Cazio. She was smiling, and when Cazio reached to touch her hand, she went all rosy.
Silly girl, Anne thought angrily. Can’t she see there’s no sincere love in him? He’s just a boy, playing games.
But why should Austra’s foolishness bother her? After all, if he was focused on Austra, perhaps he’d leave her alone. That certainly would be for the best.
Still, Austra was her friend, and she had to watch out for her.
So she pulled herself to her feet using the rail. There was no renewal of her nausea. She felt well, at least physically.
“Ah, she’s alive after all,” Cazio said, glancing in her direction.
Austra jumped guiltily, and her blush deepened. Anne suddenly wondered if things had gone farther than a bit of hand-touching. While she was sick and asleep, perhaps?
She wouldn’t have to ask. Austra would volunteer any information eventually. Or—maybe not. There had been a time when they shared everything, but they had grown apart. Anne knew it was her own fault, for hiding things from Austra. Perhaps Austra was getting her revenge.
“Do you feel better?” Austra asked. “You were missing from your bed, and I couldn’t find you at all. I thought you had fallen overboard. Finally I saw you sleeping here, and brought a blanket to keep you warm.”
“That was kind of you,” Anne said. “I felt less sick out here. And altogether better now.”
“That’s good,” Cazio said. “You’ve been a bit of a bore.”
“Which makes our company perfectly matched,” Anne replied.
Cazio opened his mouth to answer, but something behind her got his attention, and his brow furrowed. She turned to see what it was.
When she saw it was Captain Malconio, her jaw tightened.
“Well,” he said. “You seem to be feeling better. The dead have risen.”
“Not all of them,” Anne said coldly. “Some remain quite dead.”
Malconio’s eyes flashed something that might have been anger or chagrin, it was hard to tell.
“Casnara, I’m sorry that you lost a friend back there. But I was never hired to fight a battle, only to give you passage.” He leveled his gaze at Cazio, and her uncertainty about his mood vanished. Malconio was angry, and he had been before she ever said anything.
“In fact,” the captain went on, “I was never let in