Chapter 17: Terra
“No way,” Kahn says. “I’m not fighting you.”
“You don't have a choice,” Jesse says. “She issued the challenge.”
Kahn glances my way, clearly torn between annoyance and pining.
“She’ll never reach you,” a soldier behind Kahn says.
“You might be surprised,” Jesse says. “Based on what I saw her doing on her way to the city, she’s far, far stronger than anyone else I’ve seen.”
What did he see? I deflected a few arrows and Bound some rocks in place. Is that what he’s talking about? Or maybe he’s just trying to defend me with big, empty talk. I’m too tired to know anymore.
My eyes are drawn to Kahn, and once I look at him, I can’t look away. Sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw covered faintly with blond stubble. Bright, icy, almost haunting eyes. And he’s still bathed in that glow I can’t even begin to describe. Like the halo of light around a lamp, but without a central source.
“Don’t worry overmuch.” Jesse’s voice near my ear is soft, calm.
I tear my eyes away from Kahn. “I just started some kind of tournament that might overturn your dad’s position here. Oh, and half of Terra wants me dead.”
Jesse laughs. “Some of that’s true, but look at it this way. It’ll be awesome for everyone to see what you can do. It’ll give us a perfect chance to get everyone won over to your cause. Plus, with Dad working to win them over, it’ll happen quick.”
A chill runs down my spine. The men aren’t on board now? Do the Followers of Isis want to hand me over to Amun?
“Wait. . . I thought Isis wanted to protect the Warden?” I choke. “Not that I’m saying I’m actually her.”
“Have you heard the prophecy?” Duncan’s voice surprises me.
There’s an actual written prophecy? “Uh, maybe?”
Duncan frowns. “We have a lot to discuss.”
“Alora’s pretty exhausted,” Jesse says. “We might need to let her rest first.”
“I agree that a nap might be in order,” Duncan says. “And some food, too.”
“I’ll walk her up,” Jesse says.
“To keep anyone from knifing me on the way?” I ask. “Or to make sure I don’t steal the family silver?”
Jesse laughs and my head fuzzes, like I’ve heard that sound over and over in my life, even though I don’t have a single memory of it. I stumble on a loose cobblestone and nearly fall.
A strong hand catches my right forearm and every hair on my body stands on end. My heart sprints. I draw in a deep breath, knowing without looking who has steadied me.
Kahn.
I shake his arm off like it burns me. “Let go.”
The hurt in Kahn’s eyes spears me, but I ignore it and stomp away, forcing Jesse to jog to catch up to me.
“He’s not that bad a guy, actually. Although I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me happy to watch you spurn him.”
I stop abruptly. “Spurn him?”
Jesse splutters. “Uh, you know, glare at him? Storm off without a backward glance. Whatever. Most of the women I know fawn all over him.”
I glance over my shoulder. Kahn’s still staring at me, dumbstruck almost. If he’s seeing some ridiculous golden halo around me too, I don’t blame him. “He’s your dad’s first in command?”
Jesse shrugs. “And the Lord of Brantley Castle. He’s a pretty big deal.”
Fantastic.
Behind Kahn, Duncan’s practically shouting at a small group of men. “She's my daughter, and I never even agreed to hide her, but her mother didn't wait for my permission. What would you have done differently?”
“Should we wait for him?”
Jesse shakes his head. “Dad’s fine. He permits a wide amount of latitude with his commanders. He feels that open dialogue helps foster trust.” Jesse smiles. “I think he just misses Mom. They used to argue all the time, loudly, and now no one really fights with him anymore.”
“You remember Mom?”
Jesse’s face falls. “Just stories Dad shared, mostly. I struggle to parse out what’s a memory of her, and what’s a memory of what Dad told me about her. Do you remember Dad at all?”
I shake my head.
Jesse nods. “Well, we’d better get you settled. Big day tomorrow.” He starts walking, weaving in and out of groups of men, and I follow, keeping my head down. Once we've passed the majority of the men, I begin to look around.
I point at a tall, wide, red brick building. “What's that?”
“The closest barracks for the squadrons.” Where the rank and file soldiers live.
“And the smaller gray building?”
Jesse follows my hand. “That's where the Unit lives.”
“Is that where you sleep, too?” I'm assuming Jesse's part of the Unit. He’s probably one of the squadron leaders, since Dad’s the leader of all of Isis. I don’t know much about how the lives of citizens work, but from what I understand, strength is usually passed from fathers to their sons.
He shakes his head. “I live in the main castle with Dad. There are a few perks to being the boss's son, I guess.”
Jesse finally stops on steps leading up to massive walnut doors. The vast castle that rises in front of us is black, as if the stone itself has been burned. I wonder whether it ever has.
“I'll take you to your room and introduce you to your lady's maid,” my brother says. “Since you already missed breakfast, she can bring food to your room.”
“I have a room?” And a maid?? To what? Clean?
Jesse pauses and our eyes meet. “Of course you do.”
He leads me up and to the left of a double staircase so wide that Ironsides the elephant could march up it with room for another beside her. Sconces line the hallway, and the floor’s covered in plush, ornately woven rugs. We turn down a side hallway, and walk on and on. Eventually we do stop. “This is it. It'll need some updating.” He squirms. “Dad wouldn’t let anyone touch it after you left. I think he kept hoping you and Mom would waltz back in, like you’d been on holiday.”
I should open the wooden door in front of me, but I'm afraid. It feels like the hits never stop coming. A blue bird is carved into the front of the solid oak panel at eye level, and I trace the shape with my fingers. A memory surfaces, my delight in seeing a bird on my door. Mom’s smile. How she clapped her hands and spun me in a circle.
“Are you going inside?” Jesse’s voice is tentative.
I shake my head. “I remember it, I think. The door. And maybe Mom, too, showing it to me.”
“I don’t recall much about Mom, but I remember you. I thought about you every single day after you left. We were close, you know, inseparable really. My room’s next door. I used to come inside your room whenever you would cry and fall asleep in your bed.”
“Really?”
He nods.
“I had a father figure in the troupe. Martin.”
“You did?”
“You sound surprised.”
“Are you saying he and Mom. . .”
I shake my head. “Oh, no. Nothing like that.”
Jesse sighs. “That makes more sense.”
“He took care of me, but he and Mom didn’t—”
“Mom and Dad were soulmates, according to Dad,” Jesse says. “That’s why I was shocked.”
I don’t recall Mom mentioning it, but then, why would she? Talking to a six-year-old about the exordium would be. . . I can’t talk about it and I’m almost eighteen. “What I meant was that thinking of Duncan as my dad, well, it’s weird.”
“It feels like a betrayal.”
“I guess so, even if I’m mad at Martin for hiding things from me.”
“I understand, and I think, if you explain it to him, Dad would get it too. But you need to sleep now, so I’ll leave you.”
“Wait,” I say. “I wanted to tell you something.” He turns toward me, his eyes earnest but also sparkling. My heart expands. “I can’t explain it. This may not make sense, but I didn’t have a brother back in the troupe. I had a friend, Thomas, but he never felt. . . Even if I can’t pinpoint a single memory with you, I must have them because being with you, it kind of feels like, well, like I’ve known you and missed you all this time. Do I sound crazy?”
Jesse laughs. “Does it matter?”
I guess not. “You’re the only thing that feels right in my life anymore. I’m sorry if that makes me a clingy, erratic mess. I’m sorry if I’ve ruined everything, what with leading an army to your doorstep and issuing challenges that cause Dad problems.” I wonder whether everyone wishes I had Wasted instead of Mom. Probably.
“I'm glad you're here.” Before I can stop him, Jesse hugs me. Surprisingly, it’s not stiff and uncomfortable like I thought it might be. It feels as if I've done this every day of my life, and I never want to miss another day.