It was, she was certain, the change in spirits. Within the trees, the spirits were tied to Daleina and Naelin, as well as Aratay itself, but here all of Nature was linked to Queen Merecot. Hanna was surprised that it was a profound enough difference that she, who was not sensitive to all kinds of spirits, could feel it.
In response, she felt, oddly, excited, which was not an emotion she’d expected to experience again. “It will be a new adventure!” Hanna turned her chair’s wheels and kept rolling forward, toward a wildflower field that was dotted with rock piles.
Hand on her sword hilt, Evenna jogged by her side. “Alert, everyone! Watch for spirits.”
The guards tensed, and even Hanna looked about intently for Semo’s border protectors. So . . . where are they? Hanna wondered.
She’d only just completed the thought when the rock piles in the wildflower field began to shift and move—and she saw they weren’t random piles at all.
They were earth spirits, stone giants.
One after another, they rose to their full height, towering over Hanna and her guards. Each was at least twenty feet high, with arms and fists of stone.
Two of her guards drew swords and stepped in front of her, while the other two notched arrows in their bows. Hanna laid her hands on the knives tucked into the armrests of her chair, though she didn’t know what good arrow and steel would do against stone.
She wondered how quickly she and her guards could flee. Surely the Semoian spirits wouldn’t follow them back into Aratay. But I can’t flee—I didn’t come all this way to be turned back at the border. “Don’t retreat unless they attack,” Hanna ordered her guards.
“Madame Ambassador . . .” Evenna began.
“Lower your weapons and identify yourselves!” a voice boomed—it came from a pile of rocks that hadn’t moved. Hanna squinted at the rocks. Could that be a person?
If there’s a human guard here . . . maybe this won’t be a disaster.
Not lowering her bow, Evenna called back, “Identify yourself!”
Hanna held up a hand to quiet her, then raised her voice. “I am Ambassador Hanna of Aratay, en route to parlay with Queen Merecot of Semo. These men and women are my escort.” As she spoke, she reached for an air spirit—while she didn’t have the broad power of a queen or even an heir, she did have some finesse with the spirits of the air—and found one nearby, darting between the wildflowers. Reveal him, Hanna told it.
It was a tiny, mischievous spirit—a slip of air that looked like a translucent butterfly—and it didn’t fight her. Giggling softly, it flitted behind the rock formation.
Leaning toward her, Evenna advised, “We should retreat. No Semoian spirit would dare harm you within the trees.”
“They won’t harm me here either,” Hanna said with more confidence than she felt. Just because the stone giants hadn’t attacked, it didn’t mean they were safe. It could be they were under orders to attack only those who came a certain distance across the border. “Diplomatic protection. I travel under a flag of peace, at least metaphorically . . . though perhaps we should have brought a literal flag.” Queen Daleina had sent word to Semo to expect an ambassador, but if that news hadn’t spread to the border guards . . .
Hanna heard a squawk from behind the rocks as, surprised by the spirit, the speaker jumped up. She saw a flash of gold and black, and that was enough. She relaxed a minute amount. “It’s a human guard. Good.” A human could be reasoned with. To the Semoian guard, she called, “I have a letter from my queen. Perhaps you wish to examine it?”
Coming forward, the border guard examined her papers. He was a young man with a sparse mustache and a gold-and-black uniform that looked dusty up close. His sword sheath, hanging from his belt, was battered and worn, as if he used it daily. Finally he seemed to accept the letter as legit. “Keep to the roads,” he cautioned. “Not all of the mountains are as stable as they once were.”
“Oh?” Hanna used her favorite tone for encouraging students to talk.
“You might say that Semo has experienced its fair share of change in recent years.”
“And why might I say that?”
The border guard’s gaze shifted to the stone giants, who still waited motionless in the field. Hanna wondered if they’d been ordered to obey his commands—and she wondered how this young man felt about that.
But he returned her papers without answering her question. “Stay on the roads. And do not camp in areas with minimal vegetation. Bare rocks often signify an avalanche-prone area.”
“Sounds alarming,” Hanna said, keeping her voice light and friendly. “We lack such exciting features in Aratay.”
“Small price to pay for not living in a tangle of weeds.” The Semoian guard nodded at the border of Aratay. “Begging your pardon, Madame Ambassador.”
Beside her, one of her guards, Tipi, began to reply, and the headmistress laid a hand on her arm to caution her into silence. “We thank you for the warning,” Hanna said.
As soon as the Semoian waved them on, her own guards wheeled her down a gravel path, away from the border. “‘Tangle of weeds,’” Tipi muttered. She was from the Southern Citadel, known for its tangle of magnificent magnolia trees. “Better than this rock pile.” She glared balefully at the living rock piles—the gigantic earth spirits—who watched them pass with flat eyes made of shale.
“Hush,” Hanna said. “Every land has its beauty. Besides, let’s not offend our hosts.” She was certain that the stone giants were spies as well as guards and would be reporting to Queen Merecot on their arrival, so she plastered a reassuring smile on her face and beamed at the scenery.
Soon, though, they left the border, and the earth spirits, behind.
Yellow and white flowers clumped together between the tall grasses, creating a lovely quiltlike blanket at the foot of the mountains. I don’t see any cause for alarm yet, Hanna thought. This is very nice.
As the path climbed upward, Hanna saw blueberry bushes and requested a pause to gather some. These bushes were stuffed with clusters of deep last-season berries—in Aratay, the berries hadn’t ripened like this. More proof that the bad harvest in Aratay was the result of unhappy spirits, rather than natural weather, she thought. Not that she required proof. Right now, Semo seemed to be a safer place to be than Aratay.
As they passed a bush, Hanna wormed her fingers in between the leaves to pluck a few berries. She popped one in her mouth. Soaked in sunlight, it tasted like the last vestiges of summer. “Delicious,” she proclaimed. “Stop here.”
Serk produced a sack, and all of them turned to the task of stripping the bushes of as many berries as possible, taking care not to alarm any nearby tree spirits by damaging any branches or leaves. Hanna was delighted—she hadn’t had a picnic in years. I might as well enjoy myself before—
“Alert to the sky!” Tipi called.
All four guards aimed their bows upward, arrows notched. It was impressive, considering they’d just been picking berries.
Hanna tilted her head back, shielded her eyes, and watched as six spirits with leathery wings flew toward them, carrying a chariot between them.
—before Merecot finds us, she finished.
Encrusted in jewels, the chariot glistened in the sunlight. Hanna watched the spirits circle once and then fly down onto the path. At Hanna’s command, her guards lowered their bows but didn’t relax. She didn’t expect them to.
One of the spirits paced forward. Its body was shaped like a horse, but it bore leather-textured bat wings. It spoke with a mouth that looked as if it could grind rocks. “Queen Merecot welcomes you to the glorious land of Semo and invites you to complete your journey in comfort and see our beauty from above.”
Hanna’s youngest guard, nineteen-year-old Coren, fidgeted beside her. His hand clutched his sword hilt. “I am not traveling by spirit.”