‘I sometimes wish my parents were dead,’ the girl muses, as if to make the boy feel better. ‘My mother is more interested in drinking wine and throwing parties than she is in me, and my father – well, he’s in charge of my training. If I get something wrong, he hurts me.’ She rolls up the sleeve of her red dress to reveal a nasty burn in the shape of a handprint. ‘He says it’s for my own good, that it’s to make me stronger. He wants me to be queen one day, you see. Only I’d much rather be a knight, or maybe even a pirate.’
The rain eases off as the boy’s choking sobs turn to sniffles.
‘What about you?’ asks the girl. ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’
‘I … I don’t know. I’m not entirely sure what I am, let alone what I want to be.’
‘How d’you mean? You’re a Rain Singer, aren’t you?’
‘My father was a Rain Singer. My mother was … something else. Sometimes, I think being both feels a bit like being neither.’
‘Thenbeneither,’ she says, with that childlike conviction that makes everything sound so simple. ‘Be whoever you want to be. Think of it as a fresh start.’
The boy blinks at her.
‘Rain Singers are Aquatori, aren’t they?’ The girl nibbles on a fingernail. ‘Perhaps you should go to the Waterlands. I’ve heard it’s a lot prettier than here. And a lot cooler,’ she adds, fanning herself with the sleeve of her gown foremphasis. ‘The only downside is that you’d have to hide your rain, but you could still use your other water gifts. And it sounds a lot more fun than pretending to be Fidra, which would mean you couldn’t use magic at all.’ She smiles triumphantly, pleased with her solution. ‘What d’you think?’
‘I …’ The boy pauses for a moment. ‘Aquatori,’ he murmurs thoughtfully.
‘Of course, to be Aquatori you’ll need a brandmark, but that’s easily solved. I can brand you myself, if you like. I’m very good at that sort of thing.’
His gaze travels to the Ignitia fire sign seared into her flesh. ‘Will it hurt?’
‘Yes,’ she replies matter-of-factly.
The boy swallows. ‘All right.’
The girl nods, then presses her palm to the back of his hand. A moment later, the boy lets out a yelp. When she releases him, the skin is red and inflamed, branded with a perfect Aquatori waterdrop. He closes his eyes, and I watch in astonishment as he lowers the temperature of the hot spring before plunging his hand into the now-icy water.
The girl smiles approvingly. ‘I’m Leda,’ she says.
The boy ducks his head shyly. ‘I’m River.’
My heart seems to grind to a halt.
Grandmother. That’s my grandmother as a little girl. And the boy … the boy who is half Rain Singer, half Mage is …River.
The vision changes before I can catch my breath.
I’m in the Waterlands, watching River, now a young man, lugging barrels of freshly caught fish from the harbour to the market. His snow-white hair has been cropped short, andsheathed at his belt is a familiar silver trident. Suddenly the people around him begin looking up at the sky, shielding their eyes from the sun, which, moments later, is eclipsed by the moon, drenching the world in darkness. River drops the barrel balanced on his shoulder, his face a picture of shock as he clutches his glowing brandhand.
The vision changes again, and I’m standing in the banquet hall of the Golden Palace. Eighteen-year-old Grandmother is talking to Prince Caius Castellion, who, with his neatly combed hair and simple gold crown, is almost a mirror image of Hal.
‘Ah,’ he says, nodding at someone standing behind me. ‘Leda, have you met River?’
Grandmother turns and her eyes widen in surprise. River bows, but his gaze never leaves her face. For a long moment they just stare at one another.
Then Grandmother says, ‘Yes, Your Imperial Highness. I do believe I have.’
Memories begin to unravel, and I tumble through them.
Secret glances, long conversations, the brush of hands in a crowded room. Walking together to the Keep to train. Sharing a bottle of wildfire wine with Caius, the three of them drunk-eyed and grinning, watching the sunrise. Grandmother’s laughter as she runs through the maze, her dark hair streaming out behind her. River kissing her in the statue garden.
I stiffen in shock. I had known they were friends, but not anything more.
As the vision shifts, I think back to my Name Day ball, when I saw them speaking with their heads together. Sittingwith them in my tent as I waited to battle Marina. Watching them fight King Balen side by side. Have they really loved each other all this time?
An irate man with golden-brown eyes hurls flames at Grandmother, accusing her of threatening the reputation of House Harglade, demanding that she keep her distance fromthat lowborn Fishor she’ll come to regret it. Afterwards, River tends to her burns.
