Shadow Heir

Volusian returned and told me Kiyo had done nothing but scout the road as promised. Volusian also made it clear that watching him had been the most boring thing ever and a waste of the spirit’s formidable talents. Kiyo himself came trotting back shortly thereafter, shape-shifting back to his human form as our group drew to a halt. He gestured over his shoulder.

“Two more land shifts ahead,” he said. “I think they’re the Elm Land and Palm Land, but it’s hard to tell out here.”

Elm and Palm. Neither were lands in my “neighborhood.” In fact, we hadn’t been in any of the familiar kingdoms in a couple of hours. I’d at least heard of these lands—and knew they weren’t Varia’s allies—but it was a stark reminder that our journey was taking us far out of our normal path.

“There’s a village just over the second border,” Kiyo added. He hesitated before continuing. “We could possibly camp there... .”

“No possibly about it,” said Rurik, urging his horse to a light walk. “Much better for us to be in some kind of civilization for the night than out here in the open.”

Kiyo frowned. “Yeah, but this place ... well, it’s not in great shape.”

Dorian caught on where I didn’t. “Do you think they’re desperate enough to attack and take our supplies?”

“No,” said Kiyo. He nodded to the armed soldiers. “These people aren’t in good enough shape to face them either, and I think they know it. I just wanted you to understand what we’re walking into.”

“Fair enough,” said Dorian. “But there are few other options.”

We set out, and all the calm I’d managed to achieve in Kiyo’s absence vanished now that he was with us again. I think the only thing that made his presence bearable was that he accompanied us in fox form, since that was a quicker mode of travel.

The village really wasn’t that far over the second border, which Dorian confirmed was the Palm Land. The settlement sat a little ways off the road and looked like something from the set of South Pacific, with lightly thatched huts that seemed completely absurd against the wintry backdrop. The palm trees that had given this land its name were unnaturally big, but that hadn’t saved them from the cold. They were all dead, unable to cling to life as the trees in the Rowan Land had. Some of the Palm residents came out to watch our approach; some peered out at us from the safety of their snowy huts. I had a weird flashback to the time I’d first inherited the Thorn Land, when my own villages had suffered from drought.

Some of them had been in pretty bad shape, but they were nothing compared to this. My people back in the Thorn and Rowan lands were on rations right now, but beside these gaunt, starving people, my own kingdoms were practically feasting every day. Likewise, the cobbled-together winter attire I’d seen on my people was downright luxurious next to the pathetic scraps of the Palm Land’s residents. The clothing barely covered their bodies. An uneasy feeling spread over me.

“Are my villages like this?” I asked to anyone who would answer. Since my return, I’d only talked to those who worked in my castles, not those who lived elsewhere. Those in the castles always had a little more than those in the villages and towns.

“No, Your Majesty,” said Danil, the guard, coming up beside me. “I’ve been to this kingdom in the past—before the blight. It was prosperous and lush. The weather was so mild that fruit and plants grew in abundance. You could walk outside your home and pick dinner. They had no need to save for winter or trade.”

“And so they had nothing when the blight came,” I guessed. Things had been far from easy in my kingdoms, but a few things had helped us through this disaster. The Thorn Land had to import a lot of food normally, meaning there were always extra supplies in storage. When the blight had destroyed most of the food found in the wild, there had been some of that backup to go around and share between both of my kingdoms. Likewise, the Rowan Land’s more temperate climate meant there’d been warmer clothing and supplies already in production to share back to the Thorn Land, whose residents (like the Palm Land’s) would normally never need anything more than the lightest of attire.

“They must be terrified of us,” I murmured as we reached the town’s center. “Most seem to be hiding.”

Rurik glanced at me, just before he dismounted. “Most are probably dead.”

He walked ahead to do our negotiating. I wondered if he was our wisest diplomatic choice, but no one else offered protest. I couldn’t hear all of the conversation, but someone who seemed to be a leader gestured to some huts while talking to Rurik. The same man also kept glancing warily at our weapons.

“He probably wants to demand food in exchange for lodging,” said Pagiel. “But knows he doesn’t have a way to stop us if we don’t heed his demands.”