You’re not worthy, Corwin heard his father say once more.
And no matter the cheers, he couldn’t hear anything but those words.
20
Kate
FOR THE FIRST TIME IN her life, Kate regretted not being able to tell Corwin the truth about her magic. It had never seemed to matter before. Keeping her wilder abilities a secret was normal, expected, a promise she’d made to her father from the first moment she was old enough to understand that she was different.
“Does Mother know?” a seven-year-old Kate had asked him.
“No, Katie girl,” Hale replied. “She doesn’t. Not about you and not about me.”
“Isn’t that a lie?” Kate wrinkled her nose. “I’m not supposed to lie.”
“It’s not a lie when the truth would hurt the ones we love. Not telling them is a sacrifice we must make for them. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Kate believed him completely, especially once he explained the consequences of being discovered a wilder. She never wanted to be taken away from her father by those masked people.
But what happens when not telling the truth might put them in more danger than telling them? Kate wondered. There’d been something wrong in the Wandering Woods that day when they’d returned to search for the drakes. The moment Kate stepped through the trees, she felt cut off from her magic. Not like at night, when it vanished completely, but as if there was something standing between her and it. Something blocking it. Or someone.
She longed to tell Corwin, but couldn’t find a way to do so without revealing her secret. She didn’t see how she could ever tell him she was a wilder, especially not now with the growing threat of the Rising. She’d never experienced such open hatred for wilders before. Fear, yes, but not hate. The risk of what Corwin would do—what he would be compelled to do—if he learned the truth about her seemed greater than ever, now that he might finally become the next king. Although there was no clear winner in the first uror trial, he had done well. She’d seen it, felt it. Everyone present had. Watching the two princes inside that unnatural mist had been strange, almost like watching a dream—their shapes and those they battled, indistinct and confused. But of the two, Corwin’s image had been clearer somehow, almost brighter.
Still, the temptation to tell him kept getting stronger. In the two weeks since the first trial, Kate had spent nearly every morning with him. He kept showing up at her door with sweet rolls and an invitation to ride or sometimes just to walk in the gardens or along the ramparts. Even worse, she felt her instinct to stay away from him weakening each day. Instead, she found herself longing to see him. She savored every time he touched her, which he did often, always finding some excuse to place his fingers on her shoulder or back or to tug at her hand. And just yesterday, it even seemed for a moment that he was about to kiss her. The disappointment she felt afterward bothered her even now.
It has to end. She needed to uncover her father’s secrets soon, before Norgard became too much like home again—and before she once more set her heart on someone who could never be hers.
If only she could figure out how. It wasn’t like she could just march into the Sacred Sword and demand they tell her. She barely knew what questions to ask. And going inside to snoop wasn’t going to be easy either. She’d spent enough time these last few weeks observing the comings and goings outside the brothel to know that she would stand out like a mule in a herd of warhorses. She was sure that she wouldn’t seem as natural as the women she saw frequenting the place, and Kate doubted she would be able to score a job. She didn’t have any of the skills such an establishment would require. Besides, even if she did, she was too recognizable. Not a day went by that she didn’t hear whispers of Traitor Kate following her at every turn. Still, there must be some solution; she just needed to find it.
“How would you do it?” Kate asked Signe while they were out riding one morning. Corwin had been busy the last two days with high council business, and Kate enlisted Signe’s help in taking the horses out for a much-needed hack in the countryside.
Signe cocked her head in consideration. “My mother says there are two ways to always get a garro to talk. Fear of pain or love of money.”
“Garro?” Kate said, leaning forward to shoo a fly off Firedancer’s neck.
“There is no exact word to translate. But it means anyone not born to the islands.”
Kate looked over at her friend, grinning. She found the idea both absurd and slightly offensive. “Are you trying to say that no one from Esh would ever divulge a secret?”
Signe nodded, her expression solemn, and she seemed to sit up a little straighter in the saddle. “We call it Seerah. It is the holy silence. There is nothing more important to us than keeping it.”
A dozen questions came to Kate, but she didn’t get the chance to ask any of them, as she and Signe rode into the stable yard at Norgard castle to find Dal waiting for them. Well, waiting for Signe.
“How would you like to take a trip to Tyvald with me?” Dal asked her, a devilish grin spilling over his face. With him was his falcon, Lir, the bird hooded and perched on his shoulder. “Just for a few days. Corwin’s asked me to look into a daydrake sighting.”
Kate sighed at this news, her guilt over not telling Corwin what she’d sensed that day in the Wandering Woods prickling inside her. These daydrake attacks were getting worse, and Tyvald was close, only a day’s journey away. She wondered why Corwin would want Dal to look into it in person, but could only guess it was something bad.
Signe regarded Dal coolly, although Kate knew it was just pretense. So did Dal, but he enjoyed the game.
“I can certainly spare a few days,” Signe said drily, “but you must promise me excitement and adventure.”
Kate closed her eyes as Signe’s words reminded her of yet another worry. As it was, Signe could spare a lot more than a few days. There was little for her to do until Bonner finally succeeded in making his revolvers. In the month they’d been here, he’d produced only one. If he didn’t start to make progress soon, Corwin and the high council were bound to start asking why. Bonner was already beginning to cave to the pressure, taking more and more risks with his magic. The increasing daydrake attacks only fueled his desperation.
“My sweet lady,” Dal said, taking Signe’s hand and kissing it, “I swear that you’ll fight to catch your breath at every moment.”
Signe giggled, an uncharacteristic sound that told Kate better than any words that her friend had strong feelings for Dal. She couldn’t help the sharp stab of envy she felt at the knowledge. Love is so easy for some. Not that she begrudged Signe her happiness.
While Signe went off to pack, Kate dropped in on Bonner in his new workshop and was glad to see his father was there. Thomas Bonner was short and slight, all the stoutness he possessed from the hard life of a blacksmith withered away by the wasting disease. Although father and son looked nothing alike—to be expected, as Bonner was adopted—they were just alike in manner, sharing a kind and hopeful nature that Kate never failed to find refreshing.
“Ah, Miss Kate,” Thomas said, brightening at the sight of her. He pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tight. Kate was glad to feel the strength in him. He’d been in Norgard only a week, but already she could see his health was improving thanks to green-robe magic. “I’d just come to fetch Tommy for lunch. He’d work himself to death if I didn’t. Won’t you join us?”