by Frank Morin
It turned out that making a boat was a lot more complicated than anyone had ever told him. He had visited the Nister River just north of the city the day before with Christin and convinced her they should take a boat ride. She liked boats and enjoyed the excursion until he jumped overboard. The fact that he stayed underwater for seven minutes studying the hull, breathing with quartzite, made her really cranky.
He didn’t understand why she panicked so often. She was a good tutor, but she got so stressed all the time. He used to wonder about that, but he overheard Hamish say no one ever understands women, so he decided to accept the fact that she would have hysterical episodes for no reason.
Nicklaus had worked hard to design seventeen commands to build an underwater ship, and he was on command number three. Concentrating on the stone, he pushed the command on top of the previous two that had started forming the shape of a hull. Put a floor over the sides.
The waters in front of him shivered, and something started to happen. He grinned with that fun sense of victory he felt whenever he got stones to do what he wanted. They usually listened better than most grown-ups. Tall people always seemed to think kids didn’t have good ideas, although he found after he shot them with a few hundred hornets, they tended to pay attention better.
“Nicklaus.”
The unexpected voice broke his concentration, and the waters that had begun forming a deck over the hull shivered apart. He recognized Water’s voice, so it was okay. He could make the Slide later. Water was always fun to talk to. He stopped spinning.
“I’m practicing,” he said proudly.
“I see that. Good boy.”
He was thrilled to see her materialize in the water right in front of him. She was tall and beautiful, with long, flowing hair and a glittering gown. She looked as regal as Queen Aunt Sybilie, so he bowed like his mother taught him. She’d never appeared to him before, but just spoke to him. If she had waited another minute or two, she could have seen his new water boat.
“Will you say hello to Connor and Verena for me when you see them?” Nicklaus asked. “We talk with speakstones sometimes, but I bet they would like a message from you.”
Water smiled warmly. “I will try, but Connor doesn’t always listen, and Verena can’t seem to hear me very well.”
“That’s sad. Connor seemed really happy that he got to talk with you.”
“He is, but I am not sure I can teach him everything he needs to know,” she said gravely.
“To beat the wicked queen?” he asked.
She nodded, and Nicklaus felt terrible. He liked Connor, especially since Verena liked him so much. He didn’t want them to get hurt. “You could try shooting them. That makes people listen.”
Water chuckled. “I might have to try that.”
Nicklaus gestured at the globe of water holding position in the center of the room. “What do you think of my practice room?”
“You have made excellent progress, Nicklaus. That is why I’m here. Connor has learned much, but he thinks he knows better than I do how to proceed, and Verena spends so much time with him, I fear she won’t listen to me.”
Nicklaus nodded gravely. That made sense.
She continued. “They used the instructions I shared with you to create a higher-level mechanical.”
“Really? Did they control water like me?” he asked excitedly. He bet Verena was really happy he told Christin everything Water shared with him.
“No, they made a different one, but they haven’t thanked you yet for sharing your knowledge, have they?” she asked.
They hadn’t, but Nicklaus didn’t mind sharing. “I try to help.”
“You do a wonderful job, and that’s why I’m here. I need your help.”
“Really? What can I do?” Nicklaus asked, filled with pride that Water needed his help. Even though the Builders let him help test their defensive mechanicals, he didn’t often get people asking for his help. They thought he was too young or something.
“I am going to teach you how to make a mechanical to rival the greatest work of Builder Kirstin.”
“Wow! Verena and Hamish are going to be thrilled,” Nicklaus laughed. He heard about Kirstin’s Defense. If he got to make something that powerful, he’d have to ask Connor to make a monster swarm to test it. He bet Connor could make excellent monsters.
Water’s smile faded. “You can’t tell them about it until it’s finished. In fact, you can’t even tell Christin that we’ve talked. This is our little secret.”
Nicklaus frowned, his enthusiasm fading. He liked secrets, but he didn’t like the idea of not sharing with Verena.
Water drew closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “They are preparing for a terrible battle. A lot of people might get hurt if you won’t help me.”
Nicklaus had seen enough fighting, and he knew lots of people risked their lives to protect the kingdom. Especially Uncle Kilian. He was the bravest man in the world. If he could be brave and fight, Nicklaus could be too.
So he asked, “What do you want me to do?”
She smiled. “I will explain everything. One more thing, though. You will need a flight suit.”
He had been wanting a suit for months, but his enthusiasm faded. “I know where Hamish keeps his spare parts, but Christin said mother forbids me from having a suit yet.”
“Your mother cares for you, but you may have to disobey a little bit in order to help. Are you willing to do that for me?” she asked.
“Of course,” he told her happily. “Christin always says I’m better at disobeying than anyone she’s ever known.”
7
Making Bad Situations Worse
Ailsa barely noticed as one of the silent, worthy servants stationed near the door opened it and stepped out into the hallway. It looked like Princess Catriona, although she no longer recognized her own name. Ailsa remained standing to the right of the queen’s throne, her face calm, her surface thoughts filled with gratitude that her liege had trusted her enough to share so much.
Deep down inside, she struggled to keep her inner thoughts silent. It was nearly beyond her willpower to force herself to not think about the startling revelations she’d just learned. The vital truths were so startling, so terrifying, she could not process the information yet. If she tried, she would lose focus and give herself away.
She simply could not allow herself to fail now. Too many lives hung in the balance.
So she forced herself to not think at all, but simply observe. It was perhaps the hardest thing she’d ever done. Only months of practicing splitting her thoughts gave her the discipline to manage it.
General Aonghus burst into the room. He had clearly been waiting just outside, but not even in his impetuous anger dare he burst in on the queen unannounced. General Rosslyn followed behind, looking troubled but composed.
Ailsa focused on her to take her mind off everything else she could not think about. She had made cautious attempts to get to know General Rosslyn in recent weeks, but Rosslyn had so far resisted. Everyone in the queen’s employ was terrified of revealing any weakness, so they protected themselves rigorously. It made learning her heart extremely difficult, but in her secret inner self, Ailsa maintained hope that she would eventually succeed.
Rosslyn was a patriot, which could mean multiple things. The queen had taken her children, twisted their minds, and held their lives at her whim. Unless Ailsa could discover a way to deal with that threat, Rosslyn would always be the queen’s devoted general.
A gaggle of other officers followed behind, all looking fearful and uneasy. General Aonghus rushed forward and dropped quickly to one knee before the queen, who had already repaired the broken arm of her throne.
“My liege. Our marble affinity is broken.” Speaking the words aloud seemed to shake him to the core, and he glanced up with desperation in his eyes.
Queen Dreokt waved a dismissive hand. “Of course it’s gone. Sacrificed fighting our enemies who dare rise in rebellion to my rule.”
“But how? I mean, when will it be restored?” Aonghus stammered.
He had only recently ascended, becoming one of the most powerful Firetongues alive. His affinity defined him, so its loss must be like losing his identity. That calm control that he had exhibited since his ascension was gone, replaced by a wild look that was not even justified by fires burning in his eyes.
“Not for some years, at best. At the moment, it’s gone and we must proceed with that understanding.”
Aonghus seemed to wilt in upon himself. He whispered, “Gone? Years?”
In another of her abrupt mood swings, Queen Dreokt smiled like a benevolent grandmother. She gestured him to rise and approach the throne where she patted his face tenderly. “It’s all right, child. Our enemies have also lost access to fire.”
Rosslyn gasped. “Kilian has lost fire?”
That generated another round of murmurs, excited this time. Kilian was one of their mightiest foes, even more feared than Connor. He had lived far too long and fought far too many battles, but if he too was hamstrung by the loss of marble, it improved the chances of victory dramatically.
“Indeed, my wicked son is harvesting the fruits of his rebellion. But you, dear Aonghus. What must we do about you? A general with no tertiary affinity is of no use to me.”
Aonghus paled, his frantic panic taking on a new level of suppressed intensity. If someone had no use in the queen’s court, they did not survive long. He started to stammer something, but she shushed him with a finger across his lips. He froze, wide-eyed with terror, but unable to move without fear of triggering her wrath.
She pulled his head down and kissed his forehead. At her touch, he cried out in agony and crumbled to the floor at the foot of her throne.
As he convulsed, screaming and clutching at his head, Ailsa tried to maintain her calm. She had witnessed many killed or brutalized under the queen’s hand, after all, but Aonghus had been one of her generals.
Queen Dreokt stared down at Aonghus with that same benevolent smile on her face. “Therefore, I choose to make you into a servant worthy of your position.”
Aonghus gasped, tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. “It’s gone!”
“Of course it’s gone. We already discussed that.”
He rolled to his hands and knees, shaking so violently he almost pitched over sideways. “I could not connect with marble before, but my affinity was intact. Now it’s gone.”
“A bridge that leads nowhere is a bridge that must be cast down and replaced by another,” Queen Dreokt said with a happy smile. She gestured Ailsa closer. “Do you have any slate handy, my dear?”
“Of course.” Ailsa withdrew a thin wafer and extended it, but the queen gestured toward Aonghus.
He took it, obviously confused. Then his eyes widened and he exclaimed, “I can feel it!”
“Of course you can. Rosslyn already commands water for me. Fire is of no use at the moment, and air would be less useful unless you had ascended more than you can. Slate is the great battle stone, therefore it is worthy of your position and you are worthy of that affinity.”
Aonghus stumbled to his feet, staring at the little wafer in absolute astonishment. He didn’t seem to realize he was still shaking. He looked up from the slate and stammered, “Thank you!”
Ailsa let her surface thoughts fill with astonishment. She’d witnessed the queen grant new affinities to hundreds of Petralists, but she had never witnessed her sever one affinity to grant a different one. Her control over those mystic aspects of affinity powers awed Ailsa.
Queen Dreokt glanced at her with a happy smile. “I’m so glad you approve.”
Ailsa curtsied. “You are indeed the queen of affinities, and your mastery of the arcane declares your right to sit on that throne.”
That seemed to please the queen immensely, but then she blinked, and Ailsa could tell she had exhausted herself with that little trick. She doubted anyone else would pick up on the subtle signs. They were too worried with not drawing the queen’s attention to dare make an incorrect assumption.
The queen suppressed her weariness and her mood changed again. She glanced at her officers and snapped, “Prepare the army. We will stamp out this insurrection once and for all. I want all forces prepared to march in three days.”
“Three days?” Rosslyn asked with a frown. “We’re ready to march at dawn.”
“Not quite. It is clear that reports of the Builder slaughter were false. Despite your creative preparations, you are not ready to face them. I will personally assist in making final preparations. We will shatter their forces and reunite Obrion in one overwhelming strike.”
“Very good,” Rosslyn said, saluting.
The other officers mimicked her and turned to leave. The queen called after Aonghus in a tender voice. “Start your training immediately, dear Aonghus. I need you in fighting form before we reach Merkland.”
He bowed so deeply he almost fell over, then rushed from the room.
Ailsa watched them go, her surface thoughts filled with admiration for the queen, eager to learn about her preparations. What would she craft to destroy the enemy?
“You’ll have to wait to see it firsthand, my dear. I need you working around the clock between now and the time we march. I need as much sculpted soapstone and slate as you can produce.”
Ailsa curtsied. “I will see to it at once, Your Majesty. I have a small number of stones completed already, but I may not be able to complete very many new ones in only three days.”
“Don’t bother crafting them to your usual standards. These will not be for me, and I’d prefer they not contain the strength for any of my servants to attempt to raise an elfonnel. They are not ready.”
“That will simplify things,” Ailsa confirmed. Even partial sculptures would magnify the power of the Petralists wielding them several fold.
Queen Dreokt clapped her hands and laughed like a little girl considering a party. “See if you can enhance some granite and basalt and concentrate extra power in them. I believe you’d accomplished such a feat before, yes?”
“I understand how it’s done,” Ailsa said. She’d magnified granite powder for Connor once with spectacular results at the Carraig, but she did not allow her surface thoughts to dwell on that.
The queen called for servants to attend her and take additional orders. Craigroy entered with them. He had kept his distance since Queen Dreokt had beaten him down so savagely, but had not left. A man like Craigroy could not help but draw close to the greatest power, like a moth to the forbidden flame.
The queen scowled as he bowed deeply. “I’m not yet finished being unhappy with you.”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I am your humble servant. I wish only to convey that sources to the north suggest great confusion and fear among the enemy.”
He was wise not to mention that his sources were speakstones. The fact that he was still getting regular updates from those speakstones, which he passed daily through Ailsa to the queen, suggested her note of warning might have been waylaid, or they had failed to discover the speakstones. Or they had found them and were engaging in clever misinformation. She knew them well enough to hope in her deepest, best-guarded thoughts that the latter was the case. In her surface thoughts, she dwelt on how she suspected Craigroy wasn’t trustworthy.
His news pleased the queen enough to not obliterate him, unfortunately. “What else do your sources suggest?”
“They suggest there may be agents of the revolution here in Crann. That’s how they knew to strike at you here.”
Her good mood evaporated under a fierce rage that reddened her face. “Agents? Here? Corruption and lies! When will my kingdom be purified of it all?”
She rounded on Ailsa. “Your
search of Donleavy found nothing of those traitors. Have you heard of anything here in Crann?”
“Not as yet, Your Majesty, but I shall initiate an immediate investigation,” Ailsa promised.
Their abrupt departure from Donleavy had interrupted her plans for leveraging that search, but she could perhaps use some of those ideas and retool them for Crann.
Craigroy said, “Perhaps I may be of service in assisting in this effort.”
Oh, that was smooth. Ailsa had thought him effectively leashed. She said, “I don’t believe I need assistance.”
“You probably don’t, but Craigroy is the one who brought me this intelligence. Let him work with you. Find out if his sources are true. If they are, bring me the spies. If you succeed, Craigroy may win his place back into my good graces.”
He bowed and cast a victorious glance at Ailsa.
She curtsied in turn, her face expressionless. Craigroy was playing a dangerous game. It was clearly time to remove him.
8
Hey Guys, Watch This!
Connor slowed beside Kilian just south of Badurach Pass. They had raced on basalt-fracked legs from Merkland. Although he was quickly becoming addicted to flying, Connor still loved the freedom of basalt. There was nothing quite like running tirelessly over miles of terrain.
He felt strong and eager to learn a new trick. He’d slept straight for another twenty-four hours, then eaten another literal mountain of food for breakfast. He’d transformed it all instantly into energy with his gluttoncrafting to the astonishment of both Shona and Ivor, who had joined him for the meal.
The plateau on the south side of the pass was empty. The reinforcements from Granadure, New Schwinkendorf, and the Arishat League were all massed on the Grandurian side of the border, just to the north of the broken peak. The forces were growing every day, and that army would prove invaluable in the coming confrontation.
Instead of continuing up to the narrow causeway leading over the deep chasm to the sundered gap and Granadure, Kilian stopped, his legs snapping back into normal shape. Connor followed suit, eager for the super-fracking lesson.
