Lady Estora studied her thoughtfully.
“Something wrong?‘’ Karigan asked.
“No.” Lady Estora shook her head and her hair shimmered in the sunshine like a river of gold. “F’ryan was never, forgive me, strong enough to admit fear. He shrugged it off like nothing, but I could see it in his eyes.”
They sat in silence for a while, lumpy white clouds sailing across the sky far above, and a toad scampering beneath some bushes. A hummingbird darted from blossom to blossom with whirring wings. All of these small details of life Karigan had taken for granted.
Presently Lady Estora asked, “Will you be staying in Sacor City?”
Karigan shook her head. “No, I’m returning to Corsa. You?”
“My father wants me to find a good suitor.” Lady Estora rolled her eyes. “Coutre Province is isolated by the Wingsong Range and a treacherous stretch of coast. He thought I’d have a better chance of meeting a fine young nobleman here. I thought if you were staying, we could be friends.”
Karigan smiled regretfully. “I—”
But now Lady Estora was gazing across the courtyard. “I believe someone is waiting to speak to you.”
Karigan followed her gaze. Standing at the far end of the courtyard was King Zachary watching her expectantly. She pushed her hair behind her ear and licked her lips nervously. Why did the king make her feel so out of sorts?
“You had better go,” Lady Estora said. “It is not good to keep a king waiting.”
Karigan smiled weakly and bid Lady Estora farewell. She walked the gravel path amid shrubbery and flower beds. As she approached, a Weapon stepped in her way to intercept her.
“It’s all right, Wilson,” the king said. “This is Karigan G’ladheon.”
The Weapon’s expression brightened, and he bowed. “I am usually guarding the tombs,” he said, “but recent upheavals have me on duty here. There has been much talk down below of your deeds.”
Karigan reddened. Before she could respond, however, Wilson slipped away to a discreet distance, leaving her and the king to stare awkwardly at one another. King Zachary looked well, but as if he had aged years. There were new lines crossing his brow and hollows beneath his eyes. She could not imagine the strain he had been under dealing with his brother’s betrayal and death. The treachery of those he believed loyal, and the deaths of those who had remained loyal, had undoubtedly taken their toll on him as well.
Finally he said, “Would you walk with me?” Karigan fell into step with him on the gravel pathway. “I have just stepped outside for some fresh air,” he said. “It seems summer has finally found us.”
“Yes,” Karigan said.
Another silence fell between them.
“I—” he began.
“We—” she said.
They stopped and glanced at one another.
“Karigan,” he said, “I still haven’t heard a full account of what went on in the throne room that night. I was a bit dazed, you know, when you broke the spell binding my brother to the Eletian. It seems you and my brother vanished momentarily. Laren—Captain Mapstone—seems to think it wasn’t the power of your brooch. Where did you go? What happened?”
Karigan felt the energy drain from her. She disliked revisiting that night for it hounded her in her dreams and intruded on her waking thoughts. Over the last week she had found too much idle time to mull over what could have been. What if she had made the wrong choice? What if she had taken the Eletian up on his challenge to a game of Intrigue? What if she had lost? The vicious whirl of what-ifs exhausted her.
She started to turn away, but the king caught her arm. “Please,” he said.
She nodded. “It is still strange to me.”
And there in the courtyard, among the fragrant flowers, the buzz of bees, and the trill of birdsong, she told King Zachary of her experiences in the white void in which she had been trapped. The longer she talked, the wider his eyes grew. Her heart grew lighter as her words poured out. She realized, as she spoke, she had made the only choice she could have possibly made, and that none of the alternatives would have made sense to her then, or ever. In relating her experiences to the king she also learned she did not have to carry the burden of those choices by herself.
“I have heard,” he said when she finished, “there are many layers to the world. The domain of the gods is one layer. The world of the afterlife is another. I have also heard that when you use magic, you enter yet another layer. Perhaps this is what happened.”
“I don’t know,” Karigan said. “Agemon called it a transitional place.”
The king shifted the sling on his shoulder. “Karigan, you have astonished me time and again. I am more grateful than you know for all that you have done. Without you, my brother would have taken all and destroyed Sacoridia.”
“Jendara,” Karigan said, “stopped your brother.”
“She killed my brother, but it is you who stopped him and the Eletian. I know there was an understanding of some kind between you and Jendara, but know that in the end, she found the most merciful way out for herself. The justice of Weapons is ancient and brutal. Despite her final act, the Weapons would have branded her a traitor, and she would have suffered a great deal prior to execution.”
Karigan glanced down at her feet. “I know. I hope she wasn’t buried in some unmarked grave.”
“She is where she deserves, interred beside my brother in the Halls of Kings and Queens, albeit along a more obscure avenue. But I do not wish to speak of tombs.” The song of a chickadee perched on a slender white birch lilted across the courtyard. The king put his fingers beneath her chin and raised her face into the sunlight. “I’m asking you, no, imploring you, to reconsider joining the Green Riders. Your valor will not be forgotten.”