Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(45)
At higher altitudes, flowers became scarce, and eventually the trail changed from mud to beaten-down snow. The high pass was a tunnel of weeping ice that would freeze again with nightfall. Now, the wind blew down from Hanalea, carrying with it the lonely sound of howling wolves. Gooseflesh rose on Ash’s neck and arms.
When the wolves walk, the queendom is in danger. That’s what the clan elders said.
The wolves are always walking in this queendom, Ash thought.
For once, Lila did more thinking than talking. Just past the top of the pass, she reined in and dismounted, then walked along the trailside, as if searching for something.
“What are you looking for?” Ash looked down at her from atop his pony.
“Here it is.” Lila dropped to her knees beside a half-buried stone marker. Using her gloved hands, she brushed snow away from it, then laid a small bunch of flowers on top.
“What is that?”
“My grandfather died here, defending your mother,” Lila said, coming to her feet and scrubbing snow off the knees of her breeches. “Your father found his body.”
“That was here?” After Hanalea’s death, the queen had kept her other children close, so Ash had spent little time exploring the borderlands.
She nodded. “I usually stop, whenever I come through here. I consider it a monument to foolish self-sacrifice.” Fitting her boot into the stirrup, she remounted her pony. “Let’s go.”
As Ash and Lila descended into the Vale, the trail widened until it was more of a road. Ash was shocked by how much had changed. Many small farms had been abandoned, their buildings falling into disrepair. Though Gray Wolf banners still flew celebrating the Delphian victory at Solstice, some homes stood dark and empty, their windows as opaque as the eyes of the dead.
“Too many houses, not enough people these days,” Lila said, following his gaze. “It’s hard to work the land with so many off fighting in the summers.”
The Dyrnnewater was running high, fed by the melting snow, roaring down out of the mountains on her way to the sea. They crossed the river several times on arched stone bridges, freezing spray needling their faces.
“Lila,” Ash said, “could I ask a favor?”
“Depends.”
“Just hear me out. When my father was murdered, it was like I turned into a different person. I did some things I’m not proud of.”
“Look,” Lila said, “if you want absolution, go to a speaker or a priest. I’m hardly in a position to give you advice.”
“I’m not asking for advice or absolution,” Ash growled. “I’m asking you to keep quiet about my being at Ardenscourt—all of that. I’d really like to go back to being Adrian sul’Han, aspiring healer. Just give me this, and I’ll owe you.”
“You think you can shed your past like a set of scummery smallclothes?” Lila raised an eyebrow. “If I were you, I’d want to take credit. I won’t say a word, if that’s what you want, but you’d better come up with your own story about where you’ve been all this time.”
Dirt turned to brick and cobblestones as they followed the Way of the Queens through the market districts of Southbridge and Ragmarket. Ash saw little on offer there—bags of barley, mostly, and rice from the Shivering Fens. Even the pawnshops and secondhand shops had little to display—most likely everything of value had been sold off long ago. Food was dear, though clan-made goods were less expensive than he remembered, reflecting the law of supply and demand.
Ash was no longer the boy who had fled the Vale four years ago, driven by grief and guilt. He knew he shouldn’t expect to find the city that he remembered on his return. He had changed, and it made sense that the city would, too. His head told him that, but his heart wasn’t listening. The Vale he was returning to seemed smaller, shabbier, and sadder—the visible cost of five years of brutal war.
They stowed their ponies at a livery outside of the castle close. Maybe he should find a place to stay, so he could bathe and get a good night’s sleep before he presented himself at court.
You’re just stalling. The queen’s reaction to his return would have little to do with his appearance or state of hygiene. According to Lila, his mother had known he was alive, and at Oden’s Ford, all along. Yet she’d never reached out and tried to persuade him to come home.
He’d prefer that Lila wasn’t there to see the reunion. He knew she would have something to say, now or later.
“You don’t have to come with me right now,” Ash said as they approached the castle close. “If you want to get settled, or if you have other things to take care of, you—”
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it,” Lila said, rolling her eyes. “If the queen is in her castle, no doubt my father will be there, too. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see what it looks like inside.”
Ash stopped so quickly that Lila all but ran into him. “You’ve never been to the palace?”
“Well, I’ve been around the palace,” Lila said. “I’ve been in the stable yard and the gatehouse and the army barracks. I’ve been in quite a few inns and taverns and alleys.” She laughed at his expression. “Look, it’s not like my father wants to meet with his black sheep, smuggler, spy daughter in the palace or have me call on the queen. There are too many enemy eyes and ears there. It might have put the prince of the realm at risk, and we wouldn’t want that.”