Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Homecoming
The ship bumped against the pilings with a groan, and the gulls answered back like fishwives. Daine gripped the rail, smiling to see the birds lining the harbour. The streets were crowded with cats, dogs, and horses, ears pricking at her arrival. Tortall. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d held herself until that moment; a long breath escaped in a quiet sigh.
In Carthak, her magic had made landings like this a spectacle. Here, the townsfolk simply looked up, and nodded, breathing air that smelled of frost and river mud.
Behind her, the Banjiku chattered excitedly, while a cheetah’s paws thumped softly on the deck as it rose to its hind legs for a better look. Like Daine, the Banjiku could communicate with animals. Wild magic, visible only to Daine, showed copper fire shimmering on their hands.
The Banjiku themselves were a bustle of color and quick hands — short-statured, dark skinned and bright-eyed. Calls rose as the Banjiku rolled their blankets and coaxed sleepy animals from long crates. Some of them sang under their breath, rhythms that made the cheetah twitch her ears.
Khaddar had offered Daine a reward for her role in overthrowing Ozorne and placing him on the throne of Carthak Though he hadn’t granted her wish to end slavery, he had compromised, granting freedom to the Banjiku. Half of them had chosen this strange northern land over the uncertain road ahead.
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The palace stablehands had been expecting horses, not half a menagerie, and the flurry of wide eyes and shouted orders almost made her laugh. Almost. How would they cope when they realized the animals would obey the Banjiku like schoolchildren?
“Mind the antlers!” someone yelped as a young stag decided the dockside looked more interesting than the path laid out for it. Daine whistled softly; the beast flicked its ears and came trotting to heel, looking smug.
“I’m not sure Corus is ready for all this,” Numair said behind her, voice warm with amusement. He had wrapped his scholar’s cloak tight against the wind, but the smile in his eyes betrayed him.
“They’ll learn,” she said. He caught the steadiness in her voice. Somehow, between the frightened girl in the marsh and the young woman now squaring her shoulders against the cold, she had grown into her place in the world.
The morning passed in a flurry of crates, coaxing stubborn creatures into their new quarters. By the time the last animal was settled, Daine’s hair was a windblown tangle.
The menagerie bustled like a fairground. Banjiku handlers hurried between enclosures, new stags stamped their hooves, and Lindhall’s assistants shouted instructions over the clamor. The air smelled of damp straw and fresh hay—the scent of home.
Lindhall Reed, who had left the University of Carthak only days ahead of them, now directed the work. “I’ve had my fill of slave collars,” he’d said when Daine asked. Accepting a position in Corus, he had become the new master of the palace menagerie, already deep in discussion with Tano, the Banjiku leader. His hands sketched broad gestures as he spoke of spellwork and enclosures.
Lindhall meant to shape the enclosures so each matched not only the landscape but the climate of its beasts’ homelands. The Banjiku, with their close bond to animals, would work alongside him, ensuring every need was met.
Daine knelt beside the cheetah, checking its paw, her hands on the big cat’s spotted leg. She leaned closer to one of Lindhall’s clever new cages—broad, airy, with sun-warmed ledges—and didn’t notice the loose wire until her hair snagged tight.
“Of course,” she muttered, twisting strands free. The more she struggled, the worse it became.
“Hold still, magelet,” Numair murmured from behind. He bent his six-and-a-half-foot frame to reach the wire. His fingers brushed the snarl lightly; a quick motion with his knife freed the caught lock. His lips curved in a brief smile.
She huffed, pushing loose curls from her eyes, and caught the glint of something dark slipping into his pocket.
“You didn’t,” she said.
“For later study,” he said solemnly, winking as he stepped back, hands slipping into his sleeves.
Daine shook her head, returning to the cheetah. Numair lingered a heartbeat too long before moving to stand at her side, just enough to watch.
Nearby, Lindhall was in conversation with Jonathan of Conte, Tortall’s king. Once Numair’s teacher, Lindhall had always been fascinated by magical beasts.
Daine spotted the young dragon Skysong, nicknamed Kitten, slipping off to the warmth of the reptile house to greet Tkaa, the basilisk. Kitten’s mother had been drawn into the human world hours before giving birth, and though she had lost her life fighting the mages who trapped her, she had directed Daine to find the kit. When the basilisk joined them after Fief Dunlath, Numair had offered to search the library for a spell to reopen the barrier to the Divine Realms, but Tkaa, preferred to stay and mentor the young dragon himself.
For a moment, everything felt ordinary again, mud and wind and animals, not politics or gods or emperors.
Then a pair of grooms passed nearby. They straightened like spear hafts, eyes narrowing at the cheetah by her side. Daine caught the hesitation and stiff formality, hoping it was the stag she’d called that unnerved them. She offered a careful smile, speaking quietly with Lindhall about the next enclosures, discussing which animals might need extra care in the colder months.
Yet even as she listened, a hollow space opened under her breastbone. Word of Carthak had preceded them. Courtiers who had once shared easy smiles now offered only hurried bows—or slipped away when her shadow fell across the hall.
The palace felt alive and strange all at once. She reminded herself it didn't matter, though her pulse betrayed her, quickening under the weight of expectations and eyes that watched too closely.