Aliver closed the space between them. He gripped Aaden to his chest, thankful that the boy had not witnessed most of what happened in the Carmelia, and relieved that he would never be able to read the words of Dagon’s note. Those were things to be grateful for. Corinn had whispered a spell that spirited him away at the first sign of trouble. One moment he was there; the next he was gone. “She loves you,” he said. “She loves you. She took care of you first. That’s the truth.”
Aaden shifted against him, trying to break the embrace. Aliver kept his arms knotted, wanting to hold him like that forever, to keep him a child forever, to protect him from a world that constantly made a mockery of those who struggled to live in it. If somebody had just held him forever when he was a child. Just held him and never let life twist on…
“Where’s Mother?” the boy asked, his words muffled. “What happened to her? Nobody will tell me. It’s something bad. I know that already. I know what happened with the Santoth. I know they killed people and want The Song of Elenet. I heard that already, but nobody will tell me anything about my mother.”
“You’ll see her soon.”
“I want to see her now!” Aaden writhed. He shoved his uncle back, slapping his arms and chest in sudden fury. Aliver took the blows without flinching, trying to soothe him by being there to be scratched and hit. He spoke nonsense, just sounds, just meaningless words. He tried to bring Aaden back into his embrace.
Tearing away, Aaden glared at his uncle. He had never looked more savage. His features twisted with anger, wrung through with the fatigue of fear. “She’s dead!” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. “She’s dead and you won’t tell me!”
“No. No, she’s not. I swear it.”
“Why won’t you let me see her, then?”
“You will, Aaden. Give her time. I’m not stopping you. She just needs a little time to herself.” Ah, but that sounded daft! Insulting. Simple. It sounded just as stupid as the things adults had said to him after his father had been stabbed by Thasren Mein. Just as vapid and untrue. “Something happened,” he said quickly. “I don’t know what, Aaden. She fought with the Santoth and something happened. She is here, though, in the palace. She walked here on her own two feet. She went to her quarters. That’s all I know, Aaden. Please, let’s wait together. Let’s find out more together.”
The boy kept the glare on his features, turning it down just slightly. “Stop squeezing me like I’m a baby. Treat me like an adult. Like a prince.”
Aliver let his arms drop. Like a prince…
“Will you stop?”
“Yes.”
Aaden studied him a moment, skeptical, and then said, his tone growing surer, “If she’s not dead, stop acting like she is. Whatever has happened, she’ll fix it.”
He did not say it, but Aliver thought certainty such as that marked the boy as yet a child. He had never found certainty to be a hallmark of wisdom. Let him have certainty, though. For as long as he can carry it. “If anyone can,” he said, “your mother can.”
Rhrenna emerged out of the shadows. Though she wore the same garment as at the coronation, the sparkle that had danced around her was gone. She looked tense, frail, as if her sharp features might shatter if there was too loud a noise. Aliver remembered the infatuation he felt for her before the ceremony. Where had that gone?
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“Does Corinn want us?”
“No, she still hasn’t spoken to anyone. She won’t answer my knocking. I don’t know what she’s doing in there.” She glanced at Aaden. Hesitated. “I’m sure, though, that she’s fine. She was strong enough to push out her guards.”
“Don’t comfort me like a child,” Aaden said. “I am a prince!”
Rhrenna wilted a little but kept her chin high and spoke. “I know that, Your Highness.”
“I know that bad things happen,” Aaden said. He looked sulky for a moment, and then added, “I know that much is expected of me. Mother told me so. I know it already. Stop, both of you, acting like I’m weak. Make me strong, instead.”
“I will,” Aliver said, “if you help me. Rhrenna, what have you come for, then?”
“The priestess of Vada sent a messenger. They consider the ceremony to be complete. You are the king.”
“I don’t feel like one,” was Aliver’s flat response. “Anything else?”
“The council wants you back. More senators have joined them. They say there is still more to discuss.”
“I’ve talked with them enough. They’re just going in circles. Let them talk to themselves if they want to keep at it. I’ll wait for Corinn. We go no further without her. Tell them that.”
Rhrenna nodded. “They’re asking after her. What would you have me tell them?”
“To wait. Tell them I’m working with her. Tell them to look toward tomorrow and plan what they can. We still have the Auldek to consider. Remind them not to forget that.”
Aaden cleared his throat. “You can’t put everything off until tomorrow. Whatever is wrong with Mother, we must do what we have to.”
“Aaden, I won’t sleep for a moment until I know just what’s happened and just what we’re to do about it. I’m not putting anything off. Talking in circles with the likes of Sigh Saden will not help anything.”
“What will? Let’s figure that out and let’s do it.”
Aliver wanted to hug the boy again. “All right, Aaden. I think we should find out more about who the Santoth really are. If we’re going to fight them, we must know them. I thought I did, but I was wrong.”
“And we should have friends with us,” Aaden said. “Ones we trust. Ones we can listen to, and who will listen to us. Don’t you think that’s important?”
“Yes.”
“Mother didn’t. She didn’t trust people.” He paused, challenging him to disagree. “She didn’t even trust you. Do you know that? She brought you back to life, but… not all the way. I could tell from the first day I saw you. It’s because I know her magic. She’s always shown me things. She brought you partly but not all the way. Do you know what I mean?”
The thought that had been shapeless inside Aliver took a step closer. “I’m beginning to,” he said. Just having the boy name the thing he had always suspected helped him. Yes, his mind had been his own but constrained, molded in ways he had not recognized. It still was, he knew. “Let’s go to the library. I want books around me. It will be our sanctuary.”
“Do you promise me that you will be truthful to me? About everything?”
Looking at the boy’s determined face, he heard the words come out of his mouth. “Of course. I’ll tell you everything.” He realized that they escaped him so easily because the spells that bound his thoughts did not recognize them as truth. Such lies are so easy because they are so completely the fabric of life. Yet now, though he said the same words that a liar would, he meant them. He said, “Everything I think I will do, Aaden. Everything that is true I will say, because nothing matters now but the truth.” And if my lips hesitate, I will trick them. I will say such truths as can only be mistaken for lies. “How about that?”
“That’s how it should always have been,” Aaden said.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The day of his departure arrived so quickly that Dariel felt he had barely rested at all. He had not gotten to visit any but the nearest other village, though over the week he was in residence-on display, really-at the elder’s village, a steady stream of pilgrims from the lose network of settlements stopped by to gawk at him. He had not learned a fraction of the things he had hoped to, but he did not imagine that another week or two or a month or more would be enough. The People’s history was too tied with Auldek history, with the Lothan Aklun, and with aspects of his own kind that he was yet coming to grips with.
“I don’t like leaving you unprotected here,” Dariel said to Yoen as they strolled toward the edge of the village and the path that the others had already taken down to the river, a tributary of the Sheeven Lek and the fastest method for returning to the coast. “I know the Auldek are gone, but I wouldn’t put it past the league to cause you grief.”