“Is it?” Ven asked without bothering to lower her voice. “We don’t know her true motives. She’s deceived us before.”
Hanna winced. Couldn’t he at least try to be diplomatic? “She’s not deceiving you as to the danger to this land. And I should point out that this plan is my idea. You trust me, don’t you?” She looked first at Ven, then at Naelin, then at Merecot.
All of them, in their own way, do trust me.
And by trusting me, they’ll save everyone.
Hanna couldn’t help feeling a bit smug.
Naelin didn’t care if it was a good plan or not. She only cared that Merecot had said yes. Yes to Hanna’s solution. And yes to Naelin being reunited with her children.
Not permanently. Not yet. Not until the transfer was complete and Naelin had released the Aratayian spirits and claimed the excess Semoian spirits.
But it was a start.
She felt spirits watching her: two stone giants that lurked between statues, fire spirits that smoldered on the stone rafters above, an ice spirit in the window frosting the glass. She knew that Merecot had positioned another line of earth spirits just beyond them. The air quivered with them and made Naelin’s head feel thick, but she didn’t care.
All her attention was focused on one innocuous door, the one Erian and Llor would be coming through.
Ven was talking to her. She didn’t hear him. Reaching out with her mind, she tried to see through the eyes of the foreign spirits, to see if they were approaching, but it was like pushing through muck.
A hand touched her elbow lightly, and she jumped.
“I’m here for you,” Ven said quietly. “Whatever you need. I love you.”
That was the only thing he could have said that had the power to distract her from staring at the door. Even a hurricane would have been a mere nuisance, pushed away with an order to a few spirits. But at Ven’s words, she turned to him. “I love you too.”
It was surprisingly easy to say. She’d expected it to be a trumpets-blaring kind of moment, but instead it simply felt right. Like putting on a warm coat on a cold day.
Glancing over her shoulder, Ven nodded at the door. “They’re coming.”
As if his words summoned them, the door flew open, and Erian and Llor tumbled inside. “Mama!” And Naelin was running toward them, arms outstretched. She dropped to her knees, and they barreled into her, throwing their arms around her.
Both of them were babbling at once, and she heard only snippets: “So happy you’re here!” “Thought you wouldn’t come!” “Missed you so much!” And she was talking too: “I missed you both so very, very much.”
She pulled back so she could see them.
Erian, her cheeks rosy from playing outside in the courtyard, her hair braided too expertly for her to have done it herself, and a smudge of sugar in the corner of her smile from whatever pastry she ate for breakfast.
Llor, with a smile so wide that he looked like he had chipmunk cheeks. He smelled faintly of warm cinnamon and that odor little boys seemed to acquire from a bit too long between baths.
They were perfect.
“I lost a tooth!” Llor declared.
“Really? That’s excellent,” Naelin said.
“And I didn’t even cry!”
“He didn’t,” Erian affirmed. “He was very brave.”
“You’ve both been amazingly brave,” Naelin told them.
Erian squeezed her hand. “Really, you don’t know that for sure. We could have been hiding under our beds sobbing this whole time. But we haven’t been. We have been brave. We wanted you to be proud of us.”
“Oh, my girl, I am. I so very much am.” Naelin felt as if her throat were clogged with cotton. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”
“We missed you too,” Erian said. “So much! And Father too.”
“Where is Father?” Llor asked.
“He’s in Mittriel,” Naelin told him. “He’ll be so happy and surprised to see you.” She half wished she’d brought him with her so he could have this moment too. But the other half was grateful she didn’t have to share it with anyone except Ven.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw Ven had drawn back, giving her space, letting her have her moment. She had her moment, though, and she wanted him to join in it—to be part of the family he was already so much a part of. She waved him closer, and Llor squealed, seeing him.
“Champion Ven!” Erian cried. Llor echoed her: “Ven! Ven!” And the children pulled away from Naelin and piled onto Ven, bringing him to his knees too. His face cracked into a grin, and Naelin realized it had been a while since she’d seen him smile. Her own smile mirrored his, and she tasted her tears as they slid down her cheeks and into her smiling mouth.
Llor flopped out his arm, pulling Naelin into the embrace, all four of them jumbled together. This moment, Naelin thought. This is what joy is.
Chapter 19
The first spirit sent by Queen Daleina left Aratay for the eastern land of Chell. It was a tree spirit, lithe and fast, shaped like a red fox but with scales of emerald green. It ran out of Mittriel along the limbs of the trees, leaping from branch to branch, sailing through the empty spaces between the trees, until it was out of forest. It kept running, on the ground, over dried leaves that crunched under its paws and dried pine needles that stuck between its toes.
Other spirits marked its passage, and then resumed tending their trees and rocks and streams. The humans didn’t notice it at all. To them, it was as fast as a blur, and those who saw it thought it was a quirk of the light. Just a streak of green.
The fox spirit felt the moment that it left Aratay and ran into Chell. It hurt, as if a string were tied around its innards and pulling backward while its body plunged forward. The spirit felt yanked from within, but the queen’s order permeated all, overwhelming the instinct to stay in its own land.
It sensed the other spirits, the ones linked to Chell, a mix of earth, fire, water, and wood, and saw before it the rolling fields and meadows. Golden stalks swayed in the wind. Trees, laden with fruit, crowded in pastures, and vegetables overflowed their fields.
Every inch of the land felt ripe.
The spirits of Chell worked in the fields, quietly and calmly. They didn’t acknowledge the spirit of Aratay as the little fox spirit sped through their lands, but they silently passed word of its arrival—the news flickering fast across the fields, faster than the fox itself.
The news reached the fortress of the queen long before the spirit did, and when it did, she was ready. Exhausted, the fox flopped on the floor at the feet of the queen of Chell.
She bent down, her bones creaking, and untied the note from around the fox’s neck. She unrolled it and read. Pursed her lips. Rolled the note back up, retied the ribbons.
“What does it say, Your Majesty?” one of her advisers asked.
“It’s from the queen of Aratay, offering help with the harvest,” Queen Gada lied. She would not give her adviser the excuse to send any of her heirs away. She needed them all—they were the only ones in this land she trusted.
“Ahh, curious. What will you say in response?”
Queen Gada smiled at the fox spirit. “I will accept.” Carrying the fox into the Chellian Queen’s Grove, the queen of Chell plunged her mind into the mind of the little creature, broke its bond with its old master, and made it hers.
The second spirit flew to the northeast, to the icy land of Elhim. It was a water spirit with a child’s body and dragonfly wings. It was entirely blue, translucent, and believed it was the loveliest being ever to grace Renthia. It enjoyed flying beyond the borders of Aratay, so others could appreciate its beauty. Over Chell, it danced with the other water spirits and caused rain to fall over several fields before it flew on to Elhim.