I didn’t even realize the jagged sound I heard was my own breathing until Kai said, “Shh, Ruby. Come. We’ll talk soon, but not here.”
We stumbled back through the tunnels, or rather, I stumbled, and Kai kept me upright with a hand on my wrist. I wondered vaguely which alternate route the queen had taken and whether that way was more fitting, somehow, for royalty. Perhaps it was lined with fine carpets and trays of food were offered at intervals by attentive servants. If so, I should have gone that way, too. After all, I was her niece.
I giggled hysterically and Kai pulled me along a little faster. “Keep it together.”
I pressed my free hand against my mouth and continued on.
Kai didn’t speak until we stood in a veritable wasteland of black rock about halfway back to the school. And then, only because I pulled free and said, “Stop. Here. Talk.”
“Not yet,” he said irritably, reaching for me.
“Now.”
“You look ready to swoon. I don’t want to carry you all the way back to the school.”
“I’m not some delicate court lady who swoons at everything. Do I look like I’m ready to faint?” It was a relief to bicker, to fall into our pattern of attack and defend. I could push away the shock of the revelations for a few more minutes.
“Yes.”
I took several deep breaths. He wasn’t wrong. I felt as if I’d been punched and pummeled, instead of passing the third trial so “easily,” as the queen had said. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Keep walking. I mean it when I say I don’t have the strength to carry you. Not today.”
“Then talk while we walk. There are things I need to know.” I took a shuddering breath.
We continued on. Carrion birds wheeled overhead and a breeze scoured the plain with humid, salty air.
“I don’t know all the details, but I’ll tell you what I know,” he began. “Queen Nalani’s sister and her baby daughter disappeared seventeen years ago. No warning. They were just gone. Foul play was suspected, of course. Kidnapping, perhaps, for ransom. But no ransom demands ever came. King Tollak sent soldiers and spies all over Sudesia, Tempesia, and as far as the Coral Isles, but they found no trace of the princess or her baby.
“Princess Rota had grown up sailing, so eventually it was thought she could have taken a boat. One of the vessels was missing from the king’s fleet of pleasure boats, and it was a tiny craft, small enough to be piloted by one person. Not large enough to travel outside the islands and definitely not capable of crossing the sea. Finally, with no other information, they had to accept that Rota and her daughter had been lost at sea. They held a funeral and mourned the lost princesses and that was that.”
“You grew up hearing the stories, I suppose?” I pictured the princess and her daughter, but in my mind, they looked nothing like my mother and me.
“Of course. It was a great tragedy. Made greater when years passed and it became clear the queen could not have children. There are cousins, of course, and other relations to the royal family, but the succession isn’t clear. The rules in Sudesia are complicated. Noble rank has often been awarded based on one’s gift. And no one’s gift, not even her close relatives’, rivals the queen’s. No one else in Sudesia has the ability to manipulate lava. No one could truly fill her shoes.”
I tried to ignore the way my stomach was tying itself in knots, and just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. “I see how that ability is symbolic of the royal house, but does it really matter that much?”
“Of course it matters. Mount Sud erupts every decade or two, sometimes with little warning. Not to mention the smaller volcanoes and those on surrounding islands. The queen has saved hundreds, perhaps thousands, of lives. Her abilities allowed evacuations that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.”
“She can do that? Stop eruptions?” I couldn’t imagine any of the ladies of the Frost Court actually doing anything to help anyone, least of all something so dangerous.
“Perhaps not stop them, but slow the lava, at any rate, long enough to save many people. We’ve come to depend on that ability.”
I trudged along silently for a few minutes. I couldn’t wrap my head around these revelations, so I let my mind wander to safer topics. Perhaps I’d have to revise my assessment that Queen Nalani was just as bad as King Rasmus. She used her powers to save the lives of her subjects, while he had used his to instill fear and terror so he could expand his kingdom. He hadn’t been beloved by anyone, aside from his brother. And perhaps Marella.
“So the queen has no heir,” I finally prompted when I was ready to hear more.
“Had no heir,” he corrected.
I stopped cold. “Wait a minute. This isn’t a surprise to you, is it? You knew when you came to Tempesia?”
“I didn’t know… but I did wonder. I heard the stories of the Fireblood girl who destroyed the throne and I contemplated the level of power required for such a feat. It was a reasonable theory.”
“Did anyone else wonder if I could be the princess? Did the queen?”
“Perhaps she did, secretly. Maybe she didn’t dare hope. We didn’t discuss it. In any case, she decided you would be a valuable ally and sent me to… come to terms with you.” He paused and added in a more subdued tone, “She trusted me for the task, despite my failure of the trials. I never once defied her or spoke against her, even after she took my family’s island away.”
I wanted to ask why he hadn’t defied her, and if he’d wanted to. What did he wish he could have done? But I had other more pressing questions. “So you heard about the ball and decided to pretend you belonged there.”
“It didn’t take too much convincing to get the dignitary to let me go instead and to provide the necessary proof of my identity.”
“You did look very at home at the ball.”
“Not my first ball, I assure you. The only shock was when I saw you.”
I jerked my head up to look at him. “Why was it a shock?”
“Well, you were practically coated in powdered sugar, for one thing. I’d expected you to have learned at least some basic manners.”
I jabbed his middle with my elbow and he laughed as he pushed me away. “Actually, I saw the resemblance to your mother. There’s a portrait of her in the queen’s castle, painted when she was about your age, I would say.”
“I never thought I looked much like her.” Pain lashed through me. I wished so much that I could look at her right now, that she was here to discount these claims, to tell me what to do. How had she hidden her gift so well? Why hadn’t she instructed me on how to master mine, and instead seemed nervous, almost ashamed, of my gift at times? And worst of all, if she’d been a Fireblood, why hadn’t she defended herself when the soldiers came? I couldn’t bear to think she had hidden a gift that could have saved her life. I couldn’t bear it.
The obvious answer was that Mother hadn’t been a Fireblood at all, which meant she wasn’t the lost princess. She was just a simple healer who preferred solitude. My grandmother certainly hadn’t been a queen. I could still remember every patch on her colorful cloak, which she’d repaired with whatever scrap of fabric was at hand as she traveled the world. She was an eccentric wanderer who blew in and out of our lives as the whim took her.
Relief washed away the pain and doubt. That was the simplest explanation. Resemblances happened all the time. It didn’t have to mean anything. Let Kai think what he wanted. I knew the truth. They had made a mistake. I wanted to argue it out with him, but then he might have some counterargument that might make me doubt myself again.