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His last words smite the grin from my face. “I’m certain. It makes the vision all the more credible, if you think about it. Five years in this blasted war and no one has gotten near the tuath princess, but tonight I spoke with her like a friend.”
Not merely a friend.I can still feel the heartache and passion that bled from her when we sang together. From the look in her eyes on the beach, she felt the same from me. The memory sends a chill through me, and I wonder all the more why destiny has brought us together.
“Where is she now?” There’s a sharpness in Falamar’s voice that takes me back. He looks beyond me as if expecting to see Evya standing there.
“Back at her underwater home, I expect.”
“You spoke with the Seamother’s daughter, and then you simply let her go home?” The king turns away again and stares down at his charts, his shoulders tense.
I frown, my pleasant memories of Evya dimmed by the king’s odd demeanor. “What’s wrong, Falamar? You spent months encouraging me to chase this absurd vision, and now that it’s proven true, you’re angry?”
“Not angry, exactly. But you’ve put me in a dilemma I had hoped to avoid.” When he looks up at me again, his expression has gone cold and calculating. I take a step back, suddenly recognizing him a little less.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
Falamar braces against the desk, considering me for a moment. Then he abruptly crosses the room to a tall oak cabinet that stands against the back wall. He pulls out two silver goblets and a bottle of wine, then returns and lines them up on the desk like they’re pieces on his strategy board. “First, we settle our bet. Drink.”
The ice in his voice twists my stomach with foreboding, and the rosyn wine sounds far less appealing than it did moments before. But if it will help coax him out of his odd mood, I’ll drink. I pry the cork from the bottle and pour the fragrant red liquid into the goblets, then raise mine in a toast, forcing a smile. “To impossible visions. And to hope.”
I lift the goblet and sip, letting the taste of oak and rosyn berries dance across my tongue.
“Hope,” the king echoes, practically snorting the word. He raises his own goblet in a half-hearted toast, then tips the goblet back and swallows a large gulp. He doesn’t meet my gaze, even when he finally lowers his cup. “Keliveth Dalzana, are you loyal to me?”
“Of course I am.” I narrow my eyes, unsure of what he means by the question.
“I’m not asking if you consider me a friend.” He swirls his wine, staring into the depths of the goblet. “I’m asking you to think very carefully about where your loyalties lie, and to consider your actions from the perspective of the council.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” My grip tightens on the engraved silver leaves that twine around my goblet. Idounderstand what the king is implying, but I don’t want to accept it.
“Keliveth, I have always vouched for you before the rest of the nobles. A challenging task. Most of them didn’t want to allow a Dalzana anywhere near Kara Davonashi. They were afraid you would start taking after Raith.”
I grit my teeth as Falamar brings up my brother. “Considering I have yet to overthrow any kings or start practicing forbidden blood magic, I think their fears are unfounded.”
“That doesn’t prove your loyalty,” he snaps. “While the rest of my council makes strategies for our survival, you stare at stars and sing songs to the waves. When my soldiers gird themselves for battle, you—”
“You know my strength as a soldier,” I interject. I might be a disappointment as a prophet, but no one can fault my skill with a blade. “I fight when I have to, and only then.”
“I know you can best anyone in a sparring match and yet you can never seem to follow orders in battle. You spend your nights singing to the ocean and your days trying to convince the council of diplomacy when we cannot afford it.”
“All within your permission! If you took issue with my conduct, you could have told me long ago. You know I would have taken your words into account.” I clench my free hand into a fist, hurt rising inside me. “You welcomed me knowing that I had come to Kara Davonashi because of a vision, and you gave me freedom to pursue it. You never found fault with my actions, until now.”
The king slams his hands down on the desk. “Because your Dalzana fantasies were all well and good until your accursed vision came true!”
My hand goes slack. The goblet clatters to the floor, spewing red wine across the threadbare carpet. “My ... fantasies?”
Falamar’s shoulders slouch. When he speaks again the harsh edge in his voice is replaced with weariness. “Mark my words, Keliveth. I still hold to my oath to protect you, just as my family has always done for the Dalzanas. I simply never expected—”
“You never expected the vision to be real,” I finish, feeling as if I’ve been run through with a sword. “You’ve been harboring me for the sake of duty, and suddenly I’ve become inconvenient.”
The king’s grimace gives me all the confirmation I need.
I step back, reeling. “Do you really think so little of me? Burning stars, Falamar! I don’t get to choose if or when the Eternal sends me visions.”
“But you get to choose what you do with those visions.”
“Yes ... in a sense.” I steel myself, fighting back the anger and hurt that want to boil over. “What are you asking of me?”
“To stop daydreaming about ocean princesses and be sensible. Turn your Dalzana gifts toward protecting your own people. I don’t think you realize how desperate our situation has become. If you had been paying attention instead of singing to the sea you might have realized the tuath have cut off most of our access to resources. We won’t survive another year here, and we have nowhere to flee, unless you want to risk the raiding hordes that have overrun the inland country. All the damage we’ve inflicted on the Atathari will be pointless if we don’t make a strategic move as soon as possible.”
