Flamecaster (Shattered Realms, #1)(124)

Not long after, some saw it careening away from the castle close, flying east, toward the sea. Rumors flew—that the dragon had incinerated entire villages along the way; that an army of dragons was assembling in the mountains north of Delphi; that the witch queen had been seen driving a carriage pulled by dragons through the sky; that dragons had attacked ships at the wharf and destroyed one of them.

The official story—that the damage had been caused by a bomb planted by Fellsian operatives—gained little traction.

Destin Karn was put in charge of an investigation into the king’s death, which wrapped up quickly. He found no evidence of foul play. The official verdict: a tragic accident while the king was assessing damage to the palace. The unofficial cause of death: suicide. Ash tried to meet with Karn several times, but Karn seemed to be avoiding him.

He knows something, Ash thought, but it was too risky to push, considering his own role in the scheme of things.

The queen made a lovely and gracious widow. In the days immediately following the death of the king, she issued a number of quiet pardons and executive orders. Among those, that Adam Freeman had been uncollared in recognition of his service to the crown.

Ash and Lila watched Jarat’s coronation from the gallery. It was spare and rather rushed, as coronations went. No doubt Jarat didn’t want to give the restive thanes time to organize an alternative. The heir looked every inch a king as he presided at the feast afterward—tall, dark-haired, handsome. Father Fosnaught sat on one side of him, Lord Botetort on the other, Botetort’s daughter next to him. The queen and the princess were seated halfway down the table. General Karn was still in the field, jockeying with Lord Matelon. And Destin Karn was out of the city.

Security was extremely tight. Tasters tried every course before the new king dug in. Some things hadn’t changed.

Ash and Lila had already packed up their things and moved into an inn outside the castle close. Lila’s excuse was that she was heading back to the Fells to collect more goods for smuggling. Ash had made up a story about a position with a healer in Bruinswallow. No one was happier to see Ash go than Master Merrill.

“That’s a smart move, boy, to gain some more experience before you practice in a challenging setting like this. Hard work is the path to improvement. Out in the countryside, the need is great and the standards not so high.”

Ash nodded, as if filing away wisdom. “Perhaps, when I have more experience, I could come back to Ardenscourt and—”

“No!” Merrill blurted. He collected himself. “Training takes time, and I’ve spent all the time on you that I can spare.”

Harold and Boyd, at least, were sorry to see Ash go. Boyd gave Ash a knife with a carved handle, and Harold gave him a book he’d stolen from the healers’ library. Ash ignored their hints that they’d like to come along.

“You both really have come a long way,” Ash said. “If you’d like to learn more, you might consider the healers’ academy at Oden’s Ford.”

“Oden’s Ford!” Harold said, wide-eyed. “That’s for bluebloods.”

“Oden’s Ford is for everyone who wants to learn,” Ash said, shouldering his healer’s kit. “Good luck.”

Their last night in Ardenscourt, Ash and Lila shared supper at the inn, making plans for departure.

“You’re really coming back with me?” Lila said, blotting her lips. “You’re not going to drug my wine and abandon me at a campsite, are you?”

Ash shook his head. “It’s time I went home.” He slid his hand inside his shirt, where Jenna’s pendant hung next to his serpent amulet. Both represented losses.

“What changed your mind?”

“Spending time in Arden has awakened my patriotism, I suppose.”

That was part of it, but the truth was more complicated. Four years ago, he’d run away and left his mother and sister on their own to deal with his father’s death. For four years, he’d done as he liked, rationalizing that he was doing his bit for the queendom, never considering what they might want or need from him. He’d been selfish, and a coward, and losing Jenna seemed like a penance for that.

Maybe he’d deserved it. But not Jenna. He’d intended to take her home before her death. Now going home seemed like the right thing to do. He had a lot to make up for, if that was even possible.

Sometimes home is where you need to go for healing.

Time would tell whether Arden under King Jarat would change its warlike ways. Meanwhile, there was work to be done at home.

“Are you sorry you didn’t get to kill Montaigne all on your own?” Lila asked.

Ash thought about it, then shook his head. “I wanted him dead, I’ll admit. I think the world is a better place without him. But I’m beginning to realize that revenge is never as satisfying as you think it will be. Sometimes there’s a high price.”

The irony didn’t escape him. If he hadn’t come to Ardenscourt to kill Montaigne, he’d never have met Jenna. He’d never have fallen in love with her, and maybe she would still be alive.

“We did manage to quash any chance of a deal between Arden and Carthis. That’s something.”

“That’s something,” Ash said, turning his mug between his hands. It might be something, but it felt like nothing.

“There are a lot of loose ends, though. The dragon, for instance.”