Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) - Kendare Blake Page 0,94
Even Cait’s crow, Eva, flew out over the sea, her caws strange and high, like the cries of a seabird.
“You should go down to her,” Emilia says, and leans against Jules’s shoulder. But Jules had been there all through the burning and the releasing of gifts. She had been there, with Billy, and Cait and Ellis. Aunt Caragh and Luke. Emilia and Mathilde. Even Pietyr Renard, though he did not dare to speak to any of them.
As the crowd dwindled with the sunset and the day turned colder, Jules retreated up the beach in the hopes that Arsinoe would follow. But Arsinoe remained with the embers. The only ones with her now are Camden, seated on the sand, and Billy. Luke has lingered a few steps away, shivering and holding his rooster.
“I’m not really welcome,” Jules says. “Mirabella and I . . . we never . . .”
“That doesn’t matter now.” Emilia gives her a light shove. “Go. Help her to mourn.”
Jules drags her feet. “I’m of no use. I know how to send an arrow through an eye. I know how to fight. I don’t know how to do this. Besides, she needs time. Distance.”
“And she will have it, until the snow melts.”
The snow would melt in a few weeks’ time. And then the rebellion would march on Indrid Down. This time with Arsinoe riding beside her at the head of it.
Jules takes a breath and goes back down to the beach, her feet cold from seawater soaked through the leather, her short, brown hair whipping into her eyes. She nods to Billy and to Luke, who bow their heads and turn, shivering, back toward the city. Arsinoe does not move. She holds her diminishing torch and stares out at the darkening sea.
“Arsinoe. You should come away.”
Jules reaches out to tug on her sleeve. She expects to be shrugged off or yelled at. But Arsinoe only rocks backward with the pull, and then forward again.
“I don’t know what to say,” Jules says.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Arsinoe’s voice is thick. “I left you here with this. I left you alone with this same thing, when Joseph died.”
“That was different. Joseph was different.” Joseph was killed in an escape, by some soldier doing a duty. Looking back, she feels no hatred, almost like he died in an accident. “And besides, I left you, remember?” She nudges Arsinoe softly. “I know I’m not your real sister, but—”
“Be glad of that.” Arsinoe clenches her teeth and looks at her with dead black eyes. “I only have one left. And not for long.” She turns back to the water, and Jules looks out to sea as well. When the mist appears, hanging in the distance like a swirling, white curtain, she grabs Arsinoe by the arm. But Arsinoe smiles.
“Don’t be afraid. It won’t hurt us.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she’s a part of it now,” Arsinoe whispers. “And she’s only here to say goodbye.”
THE QUEENS’ WAR
INDRID DOWN TEMPLE
Bree and Elizabeth make their way up the many stairs that lead to Luca’s rooms atop Indrid Down Temple. Elizabeth goes first, carrying bowls and a pitcher of hot soup. Bree follows with a loaf of bread and nearly drops it when Elizabeth stumbles.
“Take care; the stairs are steep.” She grimaces as Elizabeth sets down the pitcher and shakes spilled soup off her scalded hand. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” The priestess sucks on her reddened thumb. “The heat feels good, really.”
Bree smiles. “Our Elizabeth. Able to find a bright spot in anything, even a burned finger.”
“Almost anything,” Elizabeth says softly.
They reach the door to Luca’s rooms, and Bree directs the guards to let them in. The guards have not been too much trouble. At least some in the queen’s service still revere the temple, and the High Priestess, regardless of the charge.
“You girls have to stop coming here,” Luca says when they are inside. She embraces them both and squeezes Bree so hard that she nearly crushes the bread.
“You say that every time.” Elizabeth takes the bread from Bree and busily sets the table, wiping the surface with the sleeve of her robe and pulling the High Priestess’s chair out.
“I know,” says Luca, sitting. “But I do not expect you to listen. When have you girls ever done anything that I have asked?”
“Here.” Elizabeth pours a bowl of soup and tears off a chunk of bread. “It’s chicken and carrot, with a little cream. I made it this morning.”