Stories from a clever mercenary in a wild world.
I sketched this scene out with watercolors the other week, it’s such poignant moment for Zare. The first real loss you see her face beyond doubt. Her city, the old life, even the other people in her life she’s lost or left behind were all “off screen.” Most, also, were almost a year behind her at the start of our story.
The next part was my idea. Trinh’s tunnel connected us to the warren of narrow passages the guard and the servants used to move about the palace, and there we divided. Rakov and Trinh went ahead to scout Naran and Hess’s quarters while the rest of us went to get Hew, Naran’s favorite hound, from the kennels. The palace was unnaturally quiet, as if all the inhabitants had disappeared into thin air. They had probably all done their very best to do just that rather than risk becoming a target of the Queen’s wrath. We didn’t pass close to anyone until we were entering the servant’s quarters with Hew in tow. A few men in servant’s gray, who had clearly been on their way somewhere, stopped moving when they saw Ayglos—who was walking in front wearing the black uniform of the Queen’s guard. They shrank against the wall, eyes averted, until we passed by in a swirl of dark cloaks and silence.
When we reached Hesperides’ door, Quill pushed it open without knocking. Rakov and Trinh were waiting inside, weapons drawn.
Putting away his sword, Trinh stepped forward and crouched in front of Hew. The hound, being only half bloodhound, was enormous and stood nose to nose with the crouching King. In the weeks I’d known Hew he’d already started to fit his long limbs far better than he had when we’d met. He’d come with me eagerly when I’d woken half the kennel to get him. Though I’d never taken him anywhere he followed with the trustful enthusiasm which made dogs so disarming. Sensing our urgency, he hadn’t made a sound for the entire trip, and had stayed so close to me that the leash seemed entirely unnecessary. It would be different once he was hunting.
Trinh held a bit of cloth out to the hound and Hew reached for it eagerly. My heart seized as I realized that it was a shirt. Was Naran really so small?
Trinh said something in a language I didn’t recognize but Hew did. The hound immediately dropped his nose to the ground and headed out the door. I had to trot to keep up and could hear the others fall in behind us.
Hew’s nails clicked on the polished wood floors, and I was grateful he didn’t bay as he darted down the hallways with unwavering fervor. We quickly left the servants quarters and entered the main palace, passing anti-chambers and ministerial rooms until we came face to face with a wall of black clad guards.
Hew would have plowed through the wall without stopping, but I checked him. Without missing a beat Ayglos strode past me and snarled at the guards, “Let us through, the hound is on a scent.”
“Who are you?” demanded one of the guards.
“We are the Queen’s Huntsmen,” replied Ayglos, stepping closer to the line of guards. “We are hunting an intruder.”
“No one is to be admitted to this wing by order of the Queen,” replied the guard.
“Fools, someone is already inside.”
“We have heard nothing.”
“Unsurprising,” snorted Ayglos.
The guard bristled.
We didn’t have time for this. In two strides I was holding a knife against the guard’s throat and stillness fell over the others. “Don’t risk the wrath of the Queen,” I purred.
He glared at me. “You Huntsmen,” he spat, “So high and mighty. You think you’re the only ones worthy to serve the Queen.”
So, there were Huntsmen. I thought Ayglos had been making things up.
The man continued, “No one has entered this wing, and even if they had, half the army is behind us. We can protect the Queen just as well as you.”
He wasn’t going to let us through. As tremulous and desperate as this plan was, it was our only plan. If we didn’t get Naran and Hesperide out tonight, there might not be another chance. We were too few, and she had too many and too much. For a single breath I considered the blade against the guard’s skin and thought of the blade in Tarr. My voice was thick as I asked, “Can you protect her from ghosts?” I stepped back and swung my free hand flat against his temple; senseless, he fell back into the other guards.
Startled cries and the sing of weapons filled the hallway. Hew backed up a step, his tail tucked. I dropped the leash to reach for Azzad.
A guard swung his sword at my head and I dodged, my knife sinking into him and my other hand clubbing his temple with Azzad. I was aware of the men tearing into the other guards without a word. The fight was over in moments, and we were five cloaked figures standing over a pile of black uniformed bodies.
“I guess it’s time to adjust the plan,” commented Ayglos, stooping to clean his knives.
“Well, they’ll know something is up,” replied Trinh drily.
“Do we leave them here?” I asked.
“Hide half of them,” said Quill. He opened a nearby door, revealing an empty anti-room.
The bodies were heavy and awkward, but we moved six bodies out of the hallway and scattered the others a little to obscure the streaks on the floor. Some were just unconscious, we tried to make sure these were in the room. Anything to add confusion and delay to any who hunted for us. Perhaps they would think they had traitors among them. It was gruesome work and I was as glad to leave as Hew, though perhaps for different reasons. Trinh offered the hound the shirt again, in case he’d forgotten because of the fight, and Hew barely looked at it before returning to the trail only he could find.
Ayglos kept pace with me, the other three fell in behind us like geese.
“How did you know she has Huntsmen?” I whispered.
My brother glanced at me, “They are why I was late getting back. They sensed me one night when I got close to the Queen’s camp. I spent the rest of the trip trying to stay ahead of them without running into the armies or patrols.”
“Sensed?”
“They never used hounds—at least that I saw—but they always seemed to find me. Or, to get close,” replied Ayglos, keeping his voice low. “I gathered from listening in at campfires that they are called Huntsmen, but not for hunting game. They hunt people, mostly. Special order of the Queen, and some serve as her personal guard. They are disliked and feared by the army.”
I frowned. “They sound more like…assassins?” Hew charged brazenly around a corner. When an empty hallway opened before us I asked, “How did you elude them?”
“I…” Ayglos hesitated, “…don’t…know…”
“You don’t know?” I was incredulous.
“There is a lot going on here that doesn’t make sense,” added Ayglos hurriedly, as if getting words out before he could change his mind, “I am good at remaining unseen and leaving no trail, but they would find me anyway—it was either the worst luck or magic because they nearly caught me dozens of times but…” he swallowed, “an apparition of a woman with golden-hair always warned me. I know it sounds crazy, but she stayed with me that whole scouting trip. I couldn’t always see her, but I know she was there and she saved my life on several occasions.”
My steps faltered. “You—” I stammered, “You saw her?”
Ayglos shot me a startled look: As if that had very much not been the response he’d expected. “You saw her?” he demanded.
“No,” I shook my head, “Not exactly…She slapped me—and she yelled at me—to wake me up when I was drugged—did you hear about that?”
“You were drugged?” asked Ayglos, then he shook his head, dismissing his own question. “We’ve hardly been in close conference these months. But I am comforted that I’m not alone in encountering her.”
“Assuming it’s the same spirit,” I replied. My mind was sprinting from one thought to the next, barely holding an idea long enough to draw conclusions I was so excited. Golden hair, though, ruled out Nelia. “Did you talk to her?”
Hew bayed, causing both of us to jump in a manner quite unbefitting our rank and costume. The hound lunged eagerly against the leash. We must be getting close.
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Before departing, we tossed the office. We left the windows open, and as a final touch Rakov smashed the lock on the door. If any of our people came back to the warehouse, they ought to see the door and windows and stay away. If they got all the way inside, they shouldn’t linger. I sent Domjoa off with a long list of tasks—including finding out what had become of my men who’d been distracting the garrison. The rest of us followed Trinh through the city.
There were still crowds in the streets, but the atmosphere had changed. It was only a matter of hours from the King’s death, but the column of smoke from the palace was much bigger and darker than the ones from the celebratory bonfires throughout the city. Rumors of soldiers on a manhunt poisoned the revelry and leached the joy out of the night. The closer we got to the palace, the thinner and more furtive the crowds, until it was just the five of us slinking in the darkness between streetlamps.
Trinh took an unexpected turn down an alley to the left, then he stopped and shifted some garbage bins around. Rakov stepped up to help and I tried not to think about the smells in the alley around us. The men grunted and metal clanked as they hauled open a sewer grate. I moaned at the thought of the things found in sewers as I watched Rakov nimbly sit on the lip and then drop from view. I didn’t hear a splash, but maybe I was deaf. Ayglos approached the hole, then after only a second’s hesitation followed Rakov. I made myself step up to the hole and peer into the darkness, Rakov stood maybe eight feet below, holding a hooded lantern. I didn’t see water, but I did see a ladder, which the men had forgone. Not to be outdone, I sat on the lip and then jumped into the hole, bending my knees and tucking into a roll before I could think through the wisdom of such a move. I bounced back to my feet, still on dry stone. Mercy of heaven. The lantern splashed patterns on the cylindrical room, and revealed two dark passages, one leading north toward the palace, one leading west.
Quill dropped in, then Trinh climbed down using the ladder as he lowered the grate.
“It’s not connected to the sewer,” said Trinh, answering everyone’s unasked question. “Though it does drain into the sewer.” He took lantern from Rakov and started down the northbound tunnel at a brisk jog, Quill behind him, then me, then Ayglos and Rakov.
The air was dank, but not foul. The tunnel was so narrow that occasionally Rakov’s scabbard scraped against the stones. The walls were dotted with carvings. Kings, castles, hunting parties, dragons, knights…I wondered if they told one story or many. Trinh led us with unfaltering steps through several junctions, as if he knew these tunnels very well. This must be how he went in and out of the palace so readily. Perhaps also how he got into the city without being seen that first time after he woke up.
Trinh stopped abruptly, holding up his hand to hold back the rest of us. Quiet, inconsistent murmurs accompanied by the occasional shuffle drifted back from around the bend ahead. Dousing the lamp, we edged forward until we were close enough that Quill exclaimed, “It’s Vaudrin!” and slipped by Trinh before any of us could react.
Trinh turned up the lamp and moved forward as cries of joy greeted Quill. Around the bend, the tunnel was strewn with men in blue uniforms who were scrambling to their feet. They saluted Quill, but when they saw Trinh they whipped to face him instead. Hope lit their faces at the sight of a living Kegan. Their uniforms were splattered with blood, and almost all of them were bandaged one place or another. Several of the standing men were missing shirts under their blue coats. The shirts, I realized, had been sacrificed to bandage the wounded. My heart twisted as I remembered days traveling with these men. I flinched for my pack. I still had the satchel from Boitumelo—I hadn’t used it since leaving Rhydderhall—but there was no way I could treat this many.
At a word from Trinh the men sunk back to the floor, exhaustion evident in their every move. Trinh and Ayglos walked to join Quill and Vaudrin in the center of the tunnel. Rakov stayed behind me.
I stopped at the first man and crouched to inspect the bandage on his arm—I met his eye and smiled at him, as if there was anything I could do about his wounds. I smoothed his hair off his forehead and he smiled back at me. I stood and turned to another man before I could drown in the emotions rising inside.
Vaudrin bowed to his King, “I am glad to see you, your Majesty, and your Highnesses.”
“I feared there would be no one,” Trinh was talking, “How many did you save?” Not, ‘how many did we lose.’
“I have forty here, only the men who could run were able to escape when we withdrew from the ballroom. The Queen must have expected the guard to react violently to the King’s murder, for she had us outnumbered at least three to one, and her army was clearly ready and waiting for the order to move in.” Vaudrin shook his head. “Jemin and I were lucky to pull out this many.”
Jemin.
I hadn’t gotten very far down the tunnel—stopping at each man to wish I could help him with more than a gentle touch—but now I stood and looked for the burly form of the guard with whom I’d stormed Gillenwater’s garrison.
“There is a chance the men in the barracks were able to escape to one of the other tunnels.” Vaudrin continued. “I have sent two of my men through the tunnels to see if they can find any others.”
I spied a hulk on the floor just past the conference of princes and hurried forward. Quill and Ayglos made room for me to pass and I dropped to my knees next to Jemin. He smiled wearily at me. Alive.
“Your Highness,” his voice was tired but lacked the rasp of death.
Tears pressed on my eyes and choked my breath, it took me a moment to manage, “Are you hurt?” I didn’t know why I felt so overwhelmed to find a friend survived even when I’d forgotten to worry for his life.
“I’ll look like a spotted cow tomorrow I’ve got so many giant bruises,” replied the guard. “But I’ll be alright.”
“We have returned for Naran and Hestria,” explained Trinh, and I blinked at Hesperide’s real name.
Vaudrin nodded, his expression turning grim. “I wish I could tell you where they were.”
“I believe they are still in the palace; we will find them or find where they are.” Trinh looked around the company, then said, “Focus on getting these men out. Fade into the countryside. Head for Magadar. If you find the men from Gillenwater, tell them the same.”
Vaudrin looked surprised. “My King, we’re leaving?”
“I will not lose more men in this fight,” replied Trinh, the blankness of his expression more frightening than anger, “You’re leaving. That’s an order.”
I waited for someone to argue with him, but no one did. Our plan for Naran’s rescue hadn’t factored them in, they were battered and had suffered heavy losses. Magadar seemed far for a regroup, but perhaps it was best given the Queen’s armies closing in on the city.
“Are we ready to go, then?” asked Ayglos after a moment’s silence.
Trinh nodded, and after clasping Vaudrin’s hand, he turned and led the way again down the tunnel.
My dress immediately became deadweight as we sank into the black water. For the moment, I didn’t mind, as I watched the light from the palace obscured by the figures chasing us. I was still holding onto Quill, pulling him into the depths with me. Quill didn’t fight me but shifted behind me to wrap his arms around my waist, freeing my arms.
We needed to get away from here, before Namal and the others started jumping in on top of us. I began to work at the laces on my dress, they were fat with water and resisted. In the darkness, I drew my stiletto and awkwardly pried at the laces. I plucked them into tatters until finally the bodice peeled away. I sheathed the stiletto and wiggled out of the heavy skirts, glad of the forethought which left me with breeches and a shirt under the dress.
Quill had to be running out of breath. I swiveled in his arms, pinched his nose, and before I could think or see the shock in his eyes, put my mouth over his. It took a second for him to open his mouth and accept the air I pushed into him, and another for him to close his mouth so I could pull back. Quill still looked stunned when I released him and started swimming.
I kicked away from the palace, angling toward the surface with Quill in tow. We had to get into the city, so I swam with the current, toward the docks. We hadn’t gotten very far before a dull roar came from the palace and the orange blur of fire radiated above and behind us.
Then bodies started hitting the water.
We broke the surface—Quill with gasp—and turned back to look. The ballroom was burning. Orange flames spread quickly through the tapestries and draperies until the guard boats on the river were bathed in light. I’d forgotten about those boats.
The people in the water appeared to be alive and swimming. For now, anyway. Armored figures crowded on the balcony, silhouetted by the flames, and aiming crossbows at the river. One dropped with a cry, an arrow in his shoulder. Then another fell from view. That marksman of Trinh’s was doing what he could, but quarrels were already flying into the river from the soldiers on the boats.
Only Namal was likely to dive far or fast enough to be safe from that hail of spikes. We needed to do something about those boats. Before I could say anything to Quill, a figure rose like a specter on the nearest boat and dispatched of one of the crossbowmen. The figure tossed the body at the other guards on the boat before falling on them with long knives. In another second he was diving off the now unmanned boat. I knew that dive. I gasped. “Ayglos!”
“They need help,” said Quill.
I needed no encouragement. We dove as one. I reached out to the Bandui. The current did not hinder us as we swam, and in seconds we reached one of the boats. The boat rocked violently, the rail coming low enough for me to grasp as I burst from the water. I vaulted onto the boat, Shiharr and Azzad singing from my back. Quill followed behind me and drew the fighting knives strapped to my thighs.
I didn’t hear the shouting, the roar of the fire, or the turmoil of the water. I just poured my fury into my knives. We were fast, we were silent, we were nothing but vengeful ghosts. They didn’t stand a chance against Quill and me. In moments, we were diving off the boat and swimming for the next, repeating our performance like seasoned dancers.
At the third boat I realized that the hands next to mine on the railing were striped with blue tendrils and I looked over to see Ayglos giving me a grim smile.
Beyond him, toward the prow, was Namal.
The three of us were together and alive. Some part of me noted that this was a cause of great joy.
Namal pointed down, then dropped back into the water instead of climbing aboard. We followed. When Namal laid his shoulder against the hull and began to push, we joined in. I felt the Bandui casually suck away from the far side. The boat groaned, then capsized in a wave of air bubbles, dumping its men into the icy water. I dove, prepared for the Nether Queen’s soldiers to learn just how terrible it was to fight a nymph in water, but Ayglos grabbed my shoulder. He looked at me fiercely and gestured that it was time to go.
I blinked at him, for a moment confused by the change in purpose. Then I obeyed, swimming with the current again, toward our allies. They were headed to the far bank, and they were only making progress because of the goodwill of the river. Panic slammed into me as I realized I didn’t know where Quill was. I swam faster, get in among the retreating men before surfacing and hissing, “Quill? Are you here?”
“Here.”
I swung left, recoiling at the sight of a body floating in the river. Then I saw heads on either side of the corpse and realized that the body was Tarr…guided by Trinh and Quill. I swam beside them, and when we reached the far shore I climbed out first and helped them lift Tarr’s body over the stone bank onto the snow-covered shore.
Trinh hauled himself out of the water and immediately pulled Tarr into his arms. Laying his forehead against Tarr’s, the orange glow from the palace painting his face in agonized strokes. Quill hoisted himself onto the bank and sat watching the burning palace, his legs dangling over the edge. I didn’t know where to look or how to feel. Trinh’s eight knights were all here, scattered around the snow in various poses like toy soldiers discarded by a child. Namal and Ayglos were standing nearby. I really hadn’t expected to be here again, watching another life burn to the ground. Three lives in less than a year. How had this happened?
And Tarr…my friend…I reached out to the dead king, my fingertips brushing his clothes, which were already turning to ice.
Ice.
I recoiled and looked around. They were all going to freeze to death if we didn’t find them someplace warm and dry.
My brothers had the same realization. “Zare, get them up—Ayglos, with me!” Namal was already jogging away from the shore. “We’ll clear the way.”
Standing, I put my hand on Quill’s shoulder. “We have to go.”
He blinked, tearing his eyes off the palace to look at me.
“Quill,” my voice firm. “We have to go.”
Quill nodded, his shoulders sagged a little and I realized that he’d been watching the palace to see if anyone else escaped by the balcony. We didn’t know what had become of the King’s Guard. He got to his feet and turned to Trinh. “Your Majesty.”
I left Quill to deal with the kings while I rounded up Trinh’s knights. It was a sad procession that struggled up the hill rising from the river. A lawn, I realized. Probably belonging to the summer villa of whoever was richest in this court.
The villa wasn’t far from the river, and it was deserted, all the windows dark. Any servants who kept the place in winter were likely in the city celebrating. My brothers had broken into the kitchen and already had the fires going in both the kitchen’s fireplaces. Trinh’s knights filed inside. After a moment’s hesitation Quill and Trinh laid Tarr in the garden, folding his hands on his chest as if he were sleeping.
Trinh lingered over the body, his arms hanging helplessly at his sides.
I stepped close, “I’ll stay with him for a little while.”
He raised his eyes to me, “Thank you,” his voice was a rasp. With a final look at his brother, he turned away and entered the kitchen.
Quill stood a moment longer before reaching out tentative fingers to brush my arm. I looked at him and saw wonder in his face. My eyes dropped to my arm, where my blue nymph stripes still spread from fingertip to shoulder. I blushed.
As if the blush made noise, his eyes flicked to mine and he managed a faint smile. “They’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Will you be alright out here? In the cold?”
I nodded. “Yes. For a while. It’s not comfortable or anything, but I’ll be fine.”
Quill nodded, he almost looked like he would say more, but he turned and went inside.
I knelt in the snow beside Tarr’s body. The river had washed most of the blood from his shirt. Now it looked as though he’d rubbed mud on his shirt, given it a cursory rinse, then put it back on soaking wet. He looked like at any moment his chest would rise and fall, then his eyes would open. He’d wink at me and make a joke about both of us sitting outside in the cold.
But he didn’t. His skin was cold. His chest motionless.
I straightened his collar—that rakishly unbuttoned collar—and combed his hair as best I could. Then I sat back and drew my knees up to my chin, my fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt. Tears blended with river water, and then crackled into ice.
I don’t know how long I sat before Ayglos came out to get me. I was quite cold and didn’t argue when he practically lifted me to my feet and guided me into the kitchen.
I spun to see Lucius Tene smiling at me, a glass of wine in his hand, blue eyes sparkling. “I did not expect to see you here tonight.”
I managed a smile, “Lord Tene,” and dipped in a hasty curtsy.
“Is this your brother?” Lucius looked over my shoulder at Namal.
“Yes,” I fumbled, “Alban, this is Lord Lucius Tene.”
Namal grimaced.
“Lord Tene, this is my brother, Alban Meredithe,” I finished the introduction, grateful that my halting delivery could be attributed to my simple persona, and not to how very much I hadn’t wanted to bump into him.
Lucius grinned, bowing slightly at the waist. “It’s my pleasure to meet you.” He lifted his wine glass, looking at me over the rim, “Have you seen Bel yet?”
I shook my head. “No, is he here?” Dumb question.
“Of course he is, anyone who’s anyone is here,” Lucius smiled again, “I left him watching the performance.” He plucked my wine glass out of my hand and deposited both our glasses on the tray of a passing servant. “But I tired of watching dancing and wanted to do some dancing myself. Do me the honor.” He bowed slightly and offered his hand.
In the center of the room, there was a space left open by the crowd, in which twenty or so people were twirling to the very same music to which the professionals at the other end of the room performed.
I cast Namal a glance, his lips were thin, but he nodded. Perhaps if I danced with Lucius he would leave us alone before the Queen came out. She would come, here would be a ceremonial dance, then she would return to the dais and attention would shift away from her and we would make our move. We had plenty of time. I smiled at the handsome lord and put my hand in his, “If you insist.”
Lucius led me to the dance floor and twirled me as we stepped into the open. His hand settled on my waist as I came back in and we smoothly joined the rest of the revelers. I was painfully aware of how his hand sat right underneath the tips of my daggers.
“You know,” whispered Lucius conspiratorially, “Your brother looks very familiar.”
I cocked my head, “Does he? Have you been down at the wharfs?”
“No, I have not,” replied Lucius, the sparkle still in his eyes.
Lightning bolts of panic started to crackle through my veins, but I kept my tone light, “Have you been thinking of me very often, perhaps? My brother and I do look alike.”
“You are enchanting.” Lucius spun me again. “I don’t think that’s it, though.”
“Perhaps he just reminds you of someone,” I suggested.
“Yes, someone I saw once, many years ago. At large event something like this. Foreign dignitaries.”
I met Lucius’s gaze. He knew. He recognized Namal. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but a figure stepped up to us.
“Excuse me.”
“Bel!” Lucius paused our motion and grinned at Bel Valredes.
“May I?” Bel gestured to me.
“Of course,” Lucius released me and bowed. I stared at him as he kissed my hand. A gestured normally reserved for royalty. “It was lovely, Miss Meredithe.”
“Lucius…” the protest died on my lips. I could hardly go running after him. Could I?
“Analie,” Bel stepped close, settling his hand on my waist to dance, but he was not nearly as committed to the dancing as Lucius had been. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s the Midwinter Ball,” I said, trying to look at Bel and keep track of Lucius at the same time.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Bel bent close as we turned slowly in a distracted version of the dance.
“What do you mean?” I’d lost Lucius. He’d stepped away from the dancing and I couldn’t tell where he’d gone. I cursed inwardly and colorfully.
“Please,” Bel was shaking his head. I dragged my eyes back to him. “Analie,” he hesitated, tension creasing his brow, “you should leave.”
“What?” He had my attention now. “Bel, I’m fine, it’s just a party.”
“I can’t explain. Please leave.” The song ended, and we stopped moving. Bel let go of my waist but kept my hand. Our eyes met, “Trust me. You don’t want to be at this party.”
My gut tightened. This was more than broken heart business. “What’s wrong?”
“Just go.” He started to turn me toward the door, but a fanfare began to play. Bel cursed. I spun to face the dais. Four black clad guards marched from the king’s entrance and arranged themselves across the back of the dais. The fanfare continued, and the entire assembly turned toward the front of the room and drew closer to the dais. I tugged my hand away from Bel and started to make my way toward back toward where I’d left Namal.
Then she entered.
I’d never seen the Nether Queen before. My steps slowed as I tried to get a good look. She looked younger than I’d imagined. She had to be at least twenty years older than my parents, but looked the same age, and just as well preserved. Her gown was black that shimmered green in the light. A high collar framed her sculpted neck and shoulders. A crown with tall, thin spires sat on black curls, shining in the lamplight like every bit of it was covered in gems. Her face was oddly familiar with high cheekbones, startling blue eyes. Her lips curved up in a faint smile laced with cruelty.
Khattmali entered, looking pale. Behind her, Tarr walked into view flanked by two guards in black. The fanfare ended and the room became very quiet. Was that blood on his face? A gasp swept through the room as the crowd also noticed the red trickle coming from the King’s nose. I took a step toward the dais.
Bel’s hand closed around my arm. “Analie, don’t.”
One day I will write A’rora’s story.
Practicing with the inktense, and markers, and metallic.
Trying to focus on shadow and light.
Trinh is one of my favorite heroes to paint, and one of the hardest to write. Enjoyed pushing myself with the watercolors, also.
The Legend of Zare Caspian 