"Mama?" Erian said. "Can we go? Please?"
Naelin heard the fear in her daughter's voice. "Yes," she began to say, and then realized the crowd had pushed farther into the grove. All the exits were packed with people. Beyond them, more people. If they rioted . . .
The queen spoke again. "We are here to honor the dead . . ."
But a man shouted, "You killed them!"
A woman near him began shouting in his face. He raised his fist, and she slammed hers into his chin. He rocked backward, and then the knot of people around them began pushing, shoving, punching. The crowd surged, and Naelin was swept forward.
"Mama!" Llor cried.
Naelin repeated the queen's words: "We are here to honor the dead." Honor the dead. She pushed the thought out, hard. She felt the spirits converge, streaming in from all around. Honor them!
And it began to snow: white petals burst from the trees above and drifted down. Hundreds, thousands, millions, covering the people. On the ground, more flowers burst beneath people's feet. Vines wrapped around ankles and then blossomed with more white flowers.
Wind whipped through the grove-targeted wind, fast, ringing the silver bells that people held in their hands or had put in their pockets. Catching the queen's eye, Naelin mouthed one word: "You!"
Queen Daleina spread her arms wide and tilted her head back. Petals fell on her arms and face. It looked, to everyone else, as if she were causing this, as if she had command of the spirits. But it was Naelin who held them tightly, guiding them through the grove. Do no harm. Honor the dead.
The air spirits began to sing in voices full of wind. They whispered in harmony as they flew through the trees, a wordless song that was full of sorrow and hope-emotions that Naelin never thought a spirit could feel, much less turn into song.
All the people were motionless, their eyes wide, their mouths open. She saw wonder on their faces as the spirits crafted beauty around them. Water spirits flew by, leaving droplets in the air, and as the sun hit them, tiny rainbows appeared all around the grove.
"We honor our dead," Queen Daleina said. Her voice rang as clear as the bells across the grove. "We thank them for entering our lives and will remember them with joy." She then retreated-serenely and regally, but still retreated-with her guards around her.
Subdued, the crowd parted and let her pass. Taking Erian and Llor's hands, Naelin slipped out through the crowd as well, skirting the bulk of the people to reach the palace from the side. Only when they were inside the gates did she release her grip on their hands.
Behind her, the petals continued to fall for hours.
Chapter 24
Ten days!
Candidate Esiella thought she might be sick. Yes, definitely. She'd held it in at the funeral grove, but she was safely back in the training room, a rented room north of the palace.
Dropping to her knees, she clutched her stomach and opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She breathed deeply a few times. Still felt sick. Still couldn't be sick.
"Aw, come on, you can do this," Champion Havtru said.
Is he encouraging me to . . . throw up?
No. He's saying I can survive the trials.
She shook her head, even as she felt his heavy, warm hand on her back. She gulped in air again, and the knot inside her felt as if it were loosening a little. Her champion was always so encouraging. He'd even been sympathetic the time she'd summoned an earth spirit and it had chomped on his leg.
"I can't do it," she said. "I can't be ready in ten days! Ten months, maybe. But ten days?" She raised her head to meet his gentle eyes. She knew he'd be looking at her with that mix of fondness, sympathy, pity, and belief. For some crazy reason, he believed in her, and that was extraordinary. No one had ever believed in her before. Not her mother, who used to call her worthless every time she tried to help around the house and worse than worthless if she didn't try to help. Not her father, who had informed her on her sixth birthday that she shouldn't have been born, before he walked out the door never to come back. Not her sisters, who stole her clothes whenever she didn't hide them. Not her older brother, who used to hit her but only in places it wouldn't show. Not her teacher, who'd called her a liar when she'd tried to say she felt spirits. Oh, how she'd loved the day he had been proved wrong! She'd loved the moment when it was her turn to walk out that door!
Champion Havtru had saved her.
And now she was going to let him down.
She drew a deep breath. "I'll try again."
He clapped her shoulder, and she lurched forward before catching herself. Standing, she smiled shakily at him. "Tell me what to do."
"You saw the petals fall at the funeral? How about asking the spirits to create a few of those flowers? Seems a thing that a queen is likely to have to do." He smiled encouragingly, and she thought it was a shame his wife had died before they'd had children. He would have been such a wonderful father.