The Only

by Katherine Applegate; Michael Grant

  “As you were in the river, you’ll be bubble-bound until we reach the air-breather meeting room, which has been made ready for you.”

  I exited the lower hatch, my heart thudding. Though I had plenty of air, I felt pressure on my chest, which made it hard not to panic. Natites swam freely in and out of open latticework walls, but despite that, the palace was not unguarded. Dozens of armed natites seemed to be stationed throughout.

  As we progressed along a mirrored corridor, I was struck by the great variety of physical characteristics natites possessed. The only things they all seemed to have in common were four limbs and a head. The odd thing was that despite their webbed feet and hands, their gills and tentacles and extra set of translucent eyelids, they reminded me, more than anything, of humans.

  “I wonder if natites and humans are related?” I mused aloud.

  “Wait,” said Renzo. “You think I look like . . . him?” He jerked a thumb at Delgaroth.

  “Yes and no,” I said diplomatically.

  “All living creatures are related,” said Delgaroth, and I recalled Sabito’s words after our eshwin hunt.

  “True,” said Renzo. “But still. I mean, let’s start with the tentacles and work from there.”

  “Renzo,” I cautioned under my breath, and he seemed to catch my warning.

  Delgaroth was unfazed. “It’s only surface creatures who deny the unity of life. Indeed,” he added softly, “I suspect that is why you are here.”

  Why you are here. The pressure on my chest grew, and not because we were so far beneath the water. The potential for failure was enormous. My failure. Our failure.

  I flashed on a memory of my visit to the Murdano’s palace, another time I’d faced a daunting challenge with high stakes.

  While there, I’d lied right to the Murdano’s face.

  It had come as a surprise to me that I could lie. Among dairnes, a species that instantly knows truth from deceit, lying is quite pointless.

  And yet I’d done it. And lived to tell the tale.

  In pursuit of truth, I’d lied to a tyrant.

  In pursuit of peace, I’d joined an army.

  Now I was in another palace, about to face a natite queen, tasked with determining the fate of countries on the brink of war.

  It was dizzying, all the twists and ironies. Sometimes I felt like a bobbing piece of driftwood, carried along by an indifferent, rushing river.

  Following Delgaroth, we entered a small room, not much more than a large box. A long pulley lifted us several stories until we reached what I took to be an anteroom, a sort of waiting area made of verrit shells layered with black volcanic glass. Into this space floated four large, well-armed soldiers and two elderly-looking natites, one of whom seemed to be half-overgrown with trailing weeds. Behind them was a young natite, petite in stature and covered in iridescent gold scales.

  “When we meet, how shall I address the queen?” I asked Delgaroth.

  He shot a startled glance toward the soldiers hovering behind him. “Queen Pavionne is not one for ceremony. It would be proper to refer to her as ‘Your Majesty.’ But she will not be offended if you forget.”

  “Is she a head-chopping sort of ruler, or does she just chain people in dungeons?” Renzo inquired, nudging me with his elbow.

  “Pavionne seldom chops heads.”

  The answer came from the small natite in the rear, who, unnoticed by me, had moved closer.

  As had the guards.

  “That’s a relief,” Renzo said. “I don’t much like any kind of royalty, but I like the head-chopping kind even less.”

  “You dislike royalty?” asked the golden natite.

  “People who think they’re better than everyone else just because of who their parents were?” Renzo laughed. “The kind of folks who assume they deserve the whole world on a platter, without ever doing a day’s honest work?”

  “Renzo,” I murmured. I cleared my throat. Loudly.

  “Surely not all royal rulers are like that!” said the golden natite.

  “Pff,” Renzo said, ignoring my pointed looks. “Once they have power, it goes right to their heads.”

  The natite nodded. “It can, yes. But a wise ruler, knowing the temptations of power, will resist it and devote herself to her people.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to see that sometime,” Renzo continued as I covered my face with my hand. “But in my experience, people with power just spit on those like me.”

  The natite smiled. “I won’t spit on you.”

  “Nah, of course you won’t, you’re just a—”

  I watched the truth dawn on his face.

  “A . . . ?” the natite pressed politely.

  Renzo looked at me. He gulped.

  “Your Majesty,” I said, for of course the young natite was Queen Pavionne herself. “I beg your forgiveness for my companion’s, um, hasty words.”

  My first act of diplomacy.

  10

  Conversation with a Queen

  Queen Pavionne turned her confident gaze on me, and I caught my breath. She was a beautiful, shimmering creature, with spring-green eyes and a playful grin.

  “I might have to chop off his head,” Queen Pavionne said to me. And then she winked.

  A natite queen winked. At me.

  “While it’s true that Renzo seldom uses his head,” I replied, “I’d be grateful if you left it on his shoulders.”

  The queen laughed gaily. The sound was lilting, but it was hard not to be distracted by the sight of her teeth. They looked nothing at all like the teeth of a human, and a great deal like the teeth of a shark.

  “May I present my friend?” I said. “Tobble of the wobbyks.”

  “Your Majesty.” Tobble attempted a bow.

  “A wobbyk! My goodness, I am glad to meet you,” said the queen. “I have long said that if all sailors were wobbyks, we’d have no disputes with air-breathers. Yours is a wonderfully kind and polite species, and one that cares deeply for the sea.”

  Tobble’s eyes grew so large his face almost disappeared. “Your Majesty, you are too kind.”

  “Come,” Queen Pavionne said. “We’re going up there.” She pointed to a round hole in the ceiling. “Take my hand, friend Tobble. Ambassador Byx, my guards will carry you aloft. As for you, my opinionated human,” she added, looking at Renzo with a falsely threatening expression, “they will carry you as well. Just as soon as they chop off your head.”

  It was a joke, of course, but while the queen was lighthearted, her guards were not. Not even a little bit. I didn’t have the slightest doubt that if we threatened their ruler, the burly natites would remove our heads in short order.

  Two of those guards seized me by the elbows, gently but with great strength. Two more took hold of Renzo. Tobble, clutching the hand of the queen, glanced back at us and sent a look that said: Can you believe this?

  The hole in the ceiling was much like the barcabrena hatch. As soon as my head poked through, I found myself in dry air. Queen Pavionne, who was already standing in the room with Tobble, took my hand and hauled me the rest of the way. Renzo heaved himself up, not an easy task with the heavy burlap-camouflaged shield on his back. Ambassador Delgaroth arrived last, and the guards remained behind when the queen waved them off.

  “Oh, I have to sit!” Queen Pavionne said. “I find standing in the dry tiring. I don’t know how you do it. It makes you feel so heavy!”

  I’ve had little experience of palaces, let alone of queens. I’d expected, given the size and opulence of the palace, to be taken to some impossibly grand and overwhelming chamber, with a gaudy throne for the queen, although natites rarely sit.

  Here, not a throne was in sight. The queen flopped into one of half a dozen simple stone chairs. The contrast with the grandiose excess of the Murdano’s palace was shocking.

  Queen Pavionne shared something with Khara, I realized. Neither of them needed the outer trappings of rank to seem regal.

  “So, Ambassador Byx. You know Delgaroth,
of course.” She nodded to the ambassador, who stood to her right side.

  “The ambassador has been very good to us,” I said.

  Did I need to call her “Your Majesty” every two seconds? She seemed so approachable. Could I just talk to her like a normal person?

  She’s not a normal person, I reminded myself sternly. She’s a powerful queen. Don’t be gullible. Listen for lies. You have a job to do.

  I cleared my throat. “Your Majesty, I bring greetings from the Lady of Nedarra, who—”

  “Yes! Tell me about this Lady. We have often had . . . issues . . . with the Murdano, as we did with his father before him. We are intrigued by this new force rising on the surface world.”

  I noted she was using the royal “we,” a reminder, perhaps, that we had come to the important part of our meeting.

  “The Lady of Nedarra is brave and true,” I answered. “She can be ruthless in a fight. But she is fair, honest, and righteous. She—”

  “We like her already,” the queen interrupted. “And clearly you do as well.”

  “I would give my life in an instant for Khara—for the Lady,” I said, my throat swelling with emotion.

  “As would we all,” said Renzo, and Tobble nodded, paw over his heart.

  The queen cupped her chin—or what would have been a chin in a human—in her thinly webbed hand. “And this Army of Peace of hers has but one goal?”

  “To stop war between Dreyland and Nedarra,” I said. “To allow their peoples—all peoples—to live in peace and freedom.”

  The queen stared at me for what seemed like an unnervingly long time. At last she stood. “We have a message for the Lady of Nedarra. Shall we speak it to you?”

  “Please, Your Majesty,” I said, and I took a steadying breath.

  Listen, Byx. Listen. Remember every word. I was glad to have Tobble and Renzo with me, so that they could fill in any holes in my recollection when we returned to Khara.

  “Thus say I,” the queen began, and I noticed she had dropped the formal “we.” “I, Pavionne, natite Queen, to Kharassande Donati, now styled the Lady of Nedarra. Like you, I am young. Like you, I am a female of my species. Like you, I wish only for peace.”

  She paused, then added with a small smile, “Of course, everyone says they want peace. I suppose that is one advantage of having a dairne for an ambassador. Perhaps that is why the Lady sent you?”

  “Perhaps,” I agreed.

  “I do not speak for all natites,” the queen continued, “although I speak for most. My realm spreads from what you call the port of Velt, to the Nedarran Bay of Scales, and a thousand miles east into the great ocean. But within my realm, I wish friendly relationships with both Nedarra and Dreyland. I know that both lands have corrupt leaders and that they plan war.”

  I nodded. “Indeed, it is imminent.”

  “Know that with every battle on the surface, dead bodies rain down upon my realm. I have no favorites. I am on no side but the side of my people.” Her voice grew resolute. “But I will do all in my power to stop this war. My only goal is the happiness of my people.”

  “The Lady will be pleased to learn this,” I said.

  “Of course, my commitment to this cause will come at a small cost.”

  I’d been waiting for this moment. I was relieved to have the jeweled crown in my pouch, and the Subdur shield strapped to Renzo’s back. It wasn’t much, but it might afford us some leverage. “And the cost for your support will be?” I asked.

  The queen was prepared. “A small amount of iron,” she said, ticking items off on her fingers. “Also, some decorative pottery. I do love Nedarran ceramics. So colorful! Also, ownership of two tiny, unoccupied islands in the bay south of Saguria.”

  I blinked. Iron made sense. And even pottery, I supposed. “Why those particular islands?” I asked. They had no strategic importance, as far as I knew.

  The queen shrugged, which, when tentacles are involved, takes on a whole new meaning. “This may sound odd,” she said, her voice falling back into its casual, light tone. “But you know how humans and lizards like to sun themselves? Lie around on warm rocks or on a sandy beach? We natites enjoy short periods in the open air. Isn’t that right, Delgaroth?”

  He blinked at the mention of his name. “It is quite true, Your Majesty. I find sunbathing most relaxing.”

  “We’d like to use the two islands for recreation,” the queen explained.

  “Recreation.” I said it slowly, listening for undertones in her voice, or misdirection in her words. Strangely enough, I sensed no subterfuge. It seemed to be an entirely straightforward request.

  “I have no doubt that the Lady of Nedarra will be willing to negotiate this in good faith,” I said, trying to sound confident. “Your requests seem most reasonable.”

  “I’m so pleased,” said the queen. And while her words rang true enough, I felt uneasy. It wasn’t that she was lying. It was that something more was coming.

  I glanced over at Renzo and Tobble. I could see they shared my doubt. Would it be wise to present the crown and shield now, as a token of our good faith? It was what Khara had directed. Still, the Army of Peace needed every last coin we could wrangle. And it was clear that Queen Pavionne’s realm was wealthy beyond measure.

  I tried to listen to my gut, but all I heard was a vague whine of hunger. It was different when I used my dairne instincts to sense a lie. Those answers came to me with certainty, the same way you know if you are hot or cold, happy or sad.

  But this required a leap of judgment. And like that dark lake from my childhood, leaps into the unknown made me nervous.

  I reached into my pouch to retrieve the crown. “Your Majesty, the Lady of Nedarra sends these small tokens of her commitment to your mutual cause.”

  My hand trembled as I extended the crown, and the queen gasped. I nodded to Renzo. “We bring you this great shield as well.”

  Renzo unwrapped the shield from its burlap covering and placed the heavy object at Queen Pavionne’s feet.

  “These are magnificent gifts,” said the queen, holding up the crown to examine. “I know them well. The Crown of Beleeka and the Ganglid Shield.” She placed the crown on her head, where it sat rather precariously. “They were stolen from this very castle by a traitorous band of rebels. They called themselves the Subdurs.”

  “Um . . . yes,” I said. “That is, in fact, their provenance.”

  “Should I ask how they came into your possession?” asked the queen, a hint of mischief in her tone.

  “That is rather a long story,” I answered.

  “Filled with derring-do,” Renzo added, and the queen rolled her eyes.

  “There was a magical tube, too,” Tobble said, “that I named a ‘Far-Near.’ Or was it a ‘Near-Far’? It made near things seem close, and far things seem . . . No, wait! It was the other way around.” His ears drooped a little. “Anyway. We had to give it away.”

  “Ah, well,” said Queen Pavionne, smiling kindly at Tobble. “Please send my deepest gratitude for the return of these precious items. They mean a great deal to my people.”

  “So,” I said, feeling relieved, “we are in agreement, it seems. I shall convey your requests to the Lady. Iron, pottery, and the two islands.”

  The queen laughed. “There’s more, Ambassador Byx. Those were the small items. The appetizers, as it were, to get a sense of how forthcoming you might be.”

  So there was more at stake. I squared my shoulders, trying to look intimidating—something, to this day, I have yet to actually accomplish.

  “I see,” I said, as another wave of self-doubt washed over me. Had I misread her intent? “And what is it you really want?”

  Queen Pavionne moved closer. I could tell she was considering her words with care. At last she put her hand on my shoulder.

  “Ambassador Byx, come with me. I have a story I would like to tell. And a whale I would like you to meet.”

  Part Two

  Voice

  11

&
nbsp; Queen Pavionne’s Demand

  “Well, you obviously made a very good impression on the natite queen,” said Khara. Four days had passed since my meeting with Queen Pavionne. We were gathered in Khara’s tent: Renzo, Dog, Tobble, Gambler, Maxyn, and I. Sabito perched on a camp chair just inside the tent flap. Like most raptidons, he avoided enclosed spaces.

  The Army of Peace had moved west along the Telarno during the brief time we’d been gone, as it attempted to gather more recruits. All along the route, the common folk—mostly human, but with a scattering of felivets and raptidons as well—had joined the cause. Delgaroth had returned us, loaded down with gifts for Khara, to the latest campsite.

  Khara held up a bulky chalice. “This cup is solid gold and encrusted with jewels.”

  Renzo held up an index finger. “There’s more where that came from.” He spread out his cloak and dumped a large sack onto it. Jewels glittered in green, azure, deep red, and startling pink.

  Khara gasped. Even Gambler snorted in disbelief.

  “These stones are enough for us to feed and arm our soldiers for months,” said Khara.

  I nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what the queen said.”

  “The shield went over very well.” Renzo fingered a particularly large blue stone. “And Pavionne loved the crown.”

  “Pavionne?” Khara repeated, raising an eyebrow at Renzo.

  “Queen Pavionne,” Renzo amended.

  “Our gifts were mere baubles compared to all this,” said Khara. She leaned back, arms crossed over her chest. “I take it, then, that she supports our plan?”

  I nodded. “In return, she’d like some iron, some Nedarran pottery, and two minor islands in the bay off Saguria.”

  “That’s nothing.” Khara narrowed her eyes. “There must be more.”

  “As it happens, yes.” I stood and moved to the center of the tent. I wasn’t sure why. In my role as ambassador, it felt appropriate, especially given what I had to say.

  “This is a bit complicated,” I began. “Tobble and Renzo will help me if my memory fails.”