Page 16 of Aubade Rising
“Well, that’s the rudest way to greet someone,” he croaks, voice hoarse from laughing, eyes glittering. The temptation to join him surfaces but I smother my smile, cheeks burning.
“So charming,” I retort, refusing to laugh.
“Oh, come on.” He’s interrupted by my stomach rumbling again and this time I can’t help seeing the funny side. A giggle slips out of my mouth, just one, but that’s all it takes and then I’m in stitches too.
We’re still laughing when the ferry docks and Diogel waits patiently for us to compose ourselves before we disembark. It takes a while: every time we get somewhat under control, my stomach sets us off again. Eventually, we manage to climb out of the ferry.
I’m not sure what comes over me but as we walk up to Chi An Mor together, I ask Eskar if he’d like to visit the laboratory.
“And put my life at risk with one of your explosions? I’ve heard you’re dangerous.” Sarcasm drips from his lips like honey, but this time it makes me smile.
“I’ll do my best not to blow your head off,” I retort, a warmth spreading through my chest smothering the faint hint of unease that my pyrotechnics are known at court.
“I’m sure I can handle some of your fireworks, Sage.” He chuckles darkly and I’m intrigued at his change in mannertoday. He’s standing close enough that I can count the salt spray on his cheeks but his expression is shadowed by the long, dark hair that falls over his eyes.
A guard paces back and forth outside the palace doors. He sees us approach and stops, standing to attention. I try not to take offence as Captain Devath’s posture stiffens and he pulls away from me. He has a short, whispered conversation with the guard and, before I can overhear a word, he stalks off, squaring his shoulders, all plans to visit the laboratory with me forgotten.
The next afternoon at the lab is a waste of time. I’m clumsy and distracted, looking at the door which stubbornly remains closed. The quiet solitude is unwelcome today and I leave early, frustrated at Eskar’s mercurial behaviour. It’s a relief to arrive back in time for the hustle and bustle of dinner and I convince Haelyn to join me. We’re discussing her latest library acquisition when Eskar calls the room to attention.
A wave of anxiety passes through the servants and members of the court alike and the silence which follows is heavy.
“The people responsible for the attacks on Athnavar, Cathair and Porth have come forward,” he announces, hands twitching at his sides. “The rebel group Kevren Gwir have claimed responsibility. This act of treasonous aggression will not go unpunished – the King will have justice.” He pauses, surveying the room without fixing his gaze on anyone. “The rebels are to be considered incredibly dangerous. Any citizen found associating or communicating with this group will face strict consequences: the penalty for treason is death. Notices will be posted in every major town and city in the morning.” Turning promptly, hands clasped tightly behind his back, he leaves, avoiding eye contact.
“Kevren Gwir? I’ve never heard of them.” I turn to Haelyn asthe hall explodes in chaos. Half the room leaves, the other half stay to dissect the proclamation.
Haelyn has gone remarkably pale; her wide eyes, two dark pools of fear. “There’s been rumours of Kevren Gwir building strength for a few years. They aren’t the largest group of resistance against the crown, but they are definitely the most organised.” She pauses, fingers pulling at a loose thread in her napkin “And the most equipped, given the scale of their attacks.”
I shudder, and now appreciate the risk I took visiting Cedar alone. The threat feels closer now they have a name. “What does Kevren Gwir mean?”
Haelyn will know more. Nobody knows more about Trevesiga than the King’s Archivist. “Why are you asking me? I don’t know anything about them.” She throws her napkin on her plate and bangs her chair as she rushes to leave.
Bewildered, I stare at her empty place before leaping up to follow. It’s too late – she evades me in the chaos and my knocks on her door are ignored.
Chapter 15
Chi An Mor is holding its breath. Since the Kevren Gwir claimed responsibility for the attacks on Athnavar and the other cities, a sombre mood has enveloped the palace whilst we wait for more news. Small groups of courtiers huddle in stairways, whispering increasingly outlandish theories. The snippets I overhear are fuelled by speculation and anxiety over more attacks.I flit between bouts of paranoia, jumping at shadows, and unease. Selfishly, I feel safe in my new home but worry for Cedar and the Aubades on the other side of the river.
It is not a time to make new acquaintances at court and I find myself the subject of increased scrutiny as I pass by the cliques. Before I was an inconvenience to be erased as soon as possible but now, I am despised. I could be a threat. Everything about my clothes, my attitude and my family history are up for judgement and debate.My refusal to allow my vote to be bought at the Concord meetings is not helping my reputation and the pressure to succeed in the laboratory is stifling. To make matters worse, since the winter solstice, Pentargon has been besieged with vicious storms which have rendered the whole archipelago inaccessible. Dervla’s been trapped away on business, unable to return. Diogel has been apologetic but no cajoling has changed his stance that ferrying me to the laboratory would be a gamble with death. Each morning, I venture to the quay, only to be turned away.
I must have made a particularly pathetic sight yesterday when I made my latest plea because he offered to share his lunch and invited me into the boathouse for a cup of seaweed tea. It was the first conversation I’d had in over a week.
The isolation feels more acute with Haelyn actively evading me. To start with, I didn’t think it was personal – the news about Kevren Gwir rattled us all – but yesterday she turned round in the doorway when she saw me and braved the elements outside.
I miss her chattiness; she’s a balm to the unwelcome faces at court. I miss her endless stories and light-hearted gossip about the Mordros at court. It reminds me that they are human after all. Above all, I miss her absolute conviction that everything can be solved if you find the right book. I need her confidence right now.
I resolve to corner her today and get her to talk. There’s a Concord meeting scheduled and when the weather is this bad, she cannot hide in the Koes Dowr. She will be in the library. I head to the kitchen on the way. If all else fails, she won’t be able to resist telling me off for eating in the library. Dropping crumbs is my last resort.
The library is lit with an eerie yellow glow from the oil lamps that struggle to remain aflame on each stack of shelves – an impractical quirk and a reminder from another time. One where our kingdom was splintered into fiefdoms and when Chi An Mor was a central stronghold where relics were preserved and guarded fiercely. Zephyrs were essential custodians of knowledge, capable of smothering an open flame in an instant. With Haelyn in charge, the tradition continues.
I wander through the stacks, tracing my fingers over the name plaques for each subject. I’ve never ventured all the way into the caves, worried I would lose track of time and struggle to find my way out of the darkness. But today, I know Haelyn will be working as far in as she can to discourage people from finding her. Steeling myself against the thought of getting lost, I recite the categories as I pass, hoping they will linger in my brain so I can find my way out again.
The peace I find is surprising. Books are quiet company andI brush past the last of those written in modern language and on to titles which mean nothing to me. Aubades aren’t allowed to have written records of our history. We have fragments of stories, folklore, passed down through generations but the Mordros are different. They are prolific journalists, archivists and curators, meticulously maintaining records of their rule over Trevesiga.
Wrapped in a heavy outdoor cloak, hunched over a study desk in the gloom is Haelyn. Her magnifying glass pores over a handwritten text and she is totally engrossed. My deliberate cough reverberates through the stacks, announcing my presence and she startles. Once she recognises me, her mouth twists defensively and she closes the book, stepping around the side of the desk farthest from me. I’ve got her cornered though, trapped by the bare rock behind the desk, glistening with condensation in the lamplight.
“Sage, this isn’t a great time. I have to go.” Haelyn looks towards the books strewn over the desk and then back to me. She must see the stubborn look on my face because she resigns herself to this conversation, sitting back with a heavy sigh.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” I try my best to mask my hurt.
