Page 38 of The Exile's Curse

It would be colder still in Andalyssia, and the fact that they were proceeding with a convoy of charguerres and a squadron of soldiers was a reminder that the weather was not the only possible threat.

But her shivers were not entirely due to the weather. No, some of it was anticipation. Andalyssia was going to be strange and possibly dangerous, but it was also a challenge. Something new. A chance to find out who she was now.

She had to keep fighting a smile off her face as she stretched her hands toward the brazier. They'd arrived at Haalbrod, the Elenian border town, just before sunset the night before, so there hadn't been any chance to explore. When she'd opened the curtains in her room earlier, the misty view over the town to the mountains beyond had been breathtaking. The mountains were larger than any she'd ever seen. Snow-capped and mist-laden even in the morning sun. It seemed impossible that there were roads through them, let alone towns and cities nestled amongst them, but there were.

And she'd be in the largest of them by nightfall. If they ever left. They were running late, and Colonel Brodier, who stood speaking to the Elenian ambassador at the front steps of the building, was beginning to look tense. If they left too late, they'd hit darkness before they reached Deephilm, and the mountain roads at night were icy and treacherous.

But after a week on the navire, Chloe wasn't keen to immediately climb back into an even smaller box on wheels and sit for hours, so she didn't entirely mind the delay.

Eventually, the hubbub around them slowed and they were ordered into the charguerres.

"Thank the goddess," Giane said as she climbed inside the charguerre designated for the lieutenants and some of the clerks. "I hope it's warmer in here."

"It should warm up eventually, I suppose," Chloe said, settling in after her. She was mostly thankful that the seating assignments in the charguerres seemed largely based on rank and she was safely with other junior officers. Six hours bouncing in an iron box through a mountain range was one thing, but doing it with Lucien sitting across from her would have added a whole new layer of discomfort.

She was too aware of the man. Like a burr in her skin. A burr she couldn't quite pluck free, no matter how she tried. Each language class, each briefing session about House Elannon—and that was a tangle she was glad she wasn't in charge of undoing—that she spent with him only made the sensation worse.

The charguerre moved off slowly. Everyone huddled into their cloaks, the chatter that had accompanied breakfast and the preparation for them leaving dying off. Thin-skinned Illvyans, used to warm weather. Only Captain Theisse had looked mildly comfortable while they'd waited to climb into the charguerres. He claimed to enjoy the cold.

Chloe did not. Kingswell had cool winters, but not much colder than Lumia. Plenty cold enough for her. She'd piled every blanket available to her onto the bed last night and still felt the chill in the Elenian air despite the fire in her room. She would need furs or a permanent warming charm to survive Andalyssia.

Which made it a good a time to practice. She'd been too tired the previous night to try and connect with the Elenian ley lines. But she searched for them now, sending her senses down to the earth. They felt distant and slow moving, the song of them icy and distant, but after a few minutes, the chilly note changed slightly, softening somehow. Enough to let her draw a thread of power up to faintly ease the chill as the charguerres rumbled out of town.

It was good practice, too, to try and keep the connection running as they moved over the roads that were not as smooth as one might wish. But with savage winters, maintaining roads was an expensive exercise. That was one of the things that had been discussed at dinner with the Elenian ambassador.

The tone of the conversation had been that this was a familiar topic, one that came up regularly enough to be expected. It had been couched in tactful language. The complaint registered, but no action promised precisely. She had paid attention, trying to follow the dance of what wasn't being discussed as well as what was. It boiled down to a request for more money from Illvya—or perhaps a reduction in taxes paid to the empire, which would amount to the same thing—to assist with road maintenance. The Elenian ambassador was passing on the request from the Elenian Clan Hall, but Chloe got the feeling she was keen on her own behalf as well. Understandable if the woman spent a lot of time on the roads of Elenia and the mountains beyond.

She'd made an eloquent case, which Colonel Brodier had listened to gravely and then neatly avoided promising anything more than relaying the message. Lucien hadn't spoken much during the meal, though he'd played the part of attentive dinner guest well, seated between the ambassador and Honore. The Elenians had all eyed him warily, as though the black of his uniform somehow drew their eye, though it was no different to what any of them wore. Or maybe it was the raven on his collar tabs rather than the usual imperial sun, proclaiming what he was.

He hadn't seemed to notice. Perhaps it was just normal to him now, after all these years. That must grow tiring. She'd been a subject of suspicion in Anglion. Knew the scrape of unfriendly eyes across skin. The hairs that rose on the back of your neck when your instincts told you someone was watching. Worse in Anglion, where reaching for her magic to defend herself—if it had ever come to that—would have meant death.

So she could sympathize with Lucien over that. Or could if she chose to. But she wasn't going to so choose. He had been fending for himself for years. Not to mention he had the protection of his rank and power. He didn't need her to worry about him.

She snuggled deeper into her cloak and looked out the slotted window of the charguerre. The narrow sliver of glass showed only a small slice of the world outside, but a fascinating one. One that made her wish for an ordinary carriage. Not just because it would be more comfortable than the charguerre, which was built for strength and speed, not luxury, but for bigger windows to let her see this brand-new part of the world.

The charguerre moved faster than a normal carriage. That was the purpose of them. The fer-taureaus—iron bulls—that drew them were tireless, their metal bodies fueled by magic. She had never quite been able to grasp how the mage ingeniers gave the fabriques they created the spark that kept them moving, no matter how many times Imogene tried to explain it to her. Apparently she didn't think about magic in the same way as an ingenier did. And hadn't been raised by an ingenier of the non-magical kind like Imogene either.

Still, tireless wasn't the same thing as perfectly comfortable. They were winding their way over roads that climbed farther into the foothills of the Andalyssian mountains. The border between the Elenia and Andalyssia was a narrow plateau, just after the first rise of the hills. It seemed to Chloe that it would be more sensible to place it at the base of the hills instead, but no doubt there was some military advantage to where it was. She didn't like the feeling of not knowing. Preparation and a healthy degree of caution had kept her alive in Anglion.

Though perhaps a diplomat could never be truly prepared for a new place. Not on a short-term mission, at least. So she would have to learn to live with the discomfort. It was going to be part of the job, as far as she could tell.

The charguerre jolted abruptly, and Chloe winced as she bounced again Giane, seated to her right. "Sorry."

Giane shook her head. "We'll spend the entire journey apologizing if we do it every time there's a bump in the road. And this road appears to be mostly bumps."

"I guess it's hard to carve a road through mountains," Chloe said. "Maybe they sent us this way to prove the ambassador's point about maintaining the roads."

"They sent us this way as it's the only road big enough for the charguerres. But I assume they wouldn't mind if the other is demonstrated, too." She leaned forward, peering past Chloe to try and look out the window. "Anything interesting?"

"So far mostly grass and rocks," Chloe said. "If you tilt your head back, you can just see the start of the mountains above the hills."

The Eissgora were the highest mountain range in the empire. The most forbidding and deadly. Beyond them lay mostly frozen land that was largely empty. One very small clan of tribes hunted the ice lakes for fish and waternahls. They ignored the Andalyssians, who, from the empire's view, owned the land, and the Andalyssians, it seemed, mostly ignored them apart from a small amount of trading. There were no other resources in the far north to be squabbled over. Just the wealth that lay beneath the mountains, enough to keep Andalyssia powerful. They were the ones with the secrets of working the depths of the earth in the freezing cold.

Illvya needed some of what they produced. Strange to think that she was going to help make sure the treaties were working. But after Honore's announcement back in Bonaroi, it was clear that the treaties were the lesser of the two problems they'd been set.

House Elannon. Imogene had been the one to foil their attempt on the empress. It had changed her life. Now Chloe was going to be part of the next shift of that cycle. And Lucien. It felt almost inevitable, in a way. Though also near impossible. And dangerous. If House Elannon hadn't changed, if there were those within who still hated the Illvyans, then who knew what might wait them in Deephilm?

They'd tried to kill an empress. What else would they risk?

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