Blood of the Tallan (The Petralist Book 7)

by Frank Morin

  “I don’t get it,” Hamish said, frowning, glancing around the group. “How does this help us?”

  “It’s not a perfect picture, but I believe it ties in with what Connor realized this morning,” Kilian said. “If Kirstin had activated a sculpted stone and my father tapped it, and if he was dragged back down to the second threshold, it would have been traumatic. The second threshold is very unstable, and it would have been easy to lose control of his elemental connection.”

  “That makes sense, but it sounds like your mother thought the elementals were using him somehow,” Aifric pointed out.

  Connor thought back to his recent elfonnel experience. The elementals had wanted to use him more than he’d allowed. Without the aid of porphyry, they might have succeeded. He could see how the king could fall to their influence if he was traumatized by losing access to his third threshold. What would the elementals do if given free rein to rise through a powerful Petralist? He felt a sudden chill.

  Kilian gestured with the document. “Yes. In fact, my mother confirmed the elementals are self-aware, that it happened centuries ago, and that their ultimate purpose is to break free of the natural laws that govern them and walk the earth unrestrained.”

  Hamish paled, one hand gripping a muffin he’d just pulled from a pocket. Verena gasped. “That would be like a giant elfonnel that could last indefinitely. Think how much destruction they could cause.”

  “Apparently the filter of our affinities blocks them from gaining sufficient access through most Petralists,” Kilian said, fixing his gaze on Connor. “Only a triple-ascended Petralist has the bridges in place they can use to rise.”

  “Is that why they’ve been helping you so much?” Aifric demanded.

  “There’s always a price,” Verena added, looking terrified.

  Connor nodded slowly. “I think so. I’ve seen hints of their purpose. They’ve told me they want me to act as their champion, and they’ve spoken of being imprisoned. Finally their ultimate goal makes sense.”

  “This is terrible!” Hamish exclaimed. “We need the elementals to fight the queen, but the more you rely on them, the more likely they’ll find a way to destroy you.”

  “And everyone, if they escape,” Kilian said gravely. “That is my mother’s great fear. She apparently believes that Kirstin found the Builder threshold and was trying to ascend through it, but she also believes that should a Builder do so, they would become vulnerable to the elementals, who could rise through them.”

  “That’s why Water’s been encouraging us,” Verena said, looking deeply offended. “She’s been setting us up.”

  “What do we do?” Aifric asked softly.

  They all looked to Connor. His mind was racing. He felt like he needed time to absorb the news. It fit with the clues he’d received, confirmed his worst fears, but he wasn’t sure how to answer Aifric’s question. “The queen still accesses the elements, so we should be able to as well.”

  Kilian nodded. “Ailsa mentions that my mother fears her defenses were weakened in that last battle. She seems terrified she won’t be able to withstand the elementals indefinitely.”

  “So she’s been trying to stop us from ascending and delving into deeper Builder powers for good reason?” Hamish asked, looking flabbergasted. “She’s crazy, right? How can she be right too? That’s double crazy!”

  He was right. Everyone looked worried, thoughtful, and a little confused. Connor felt the same way, but the knowledge helped clarify one important point.

  Somehow he had to use the elements without letting the elementals use him.

  20

  Never Ask a Woman Her Age

  Ailsa caught Rosslyn just before she entered the dining hall for the evening meal. She took her arm and drew her aside, partway down a side hallway that led toward the serving entrance. Rosslyn pulled her arm away, looking nervous. Through the brief contact, Ailsa felt Rosslyn’s tension. Everyone lived in a constant state of fear around the queen, and not even the generals were immune. Some of the other diners glanced in their direction, but no one paused to ask what they were doing.

  “Did you get my note?” Ailsa asked.

  “Do you think it’s wise to attempt such a thing? Here? Tonight, before we march in the morning?”

  “It’s the last opportunity we’ll have. This is a great chance. She’ll never expect it.”

  “If this doesn’t work, she could destroy us all,” Rosslyn whispered, leaning close, her terror showing in her eyes before she concealed it.

  Ailsa wished she could comfort the younger woman. Every moment in the queen’s presence was dangerous, but one did not have to live in fear. In her deepest thoughts, Ailsa recognized she faced the worst danger of anyone else, but she felt at peace. No matter what happened, she had accomplished much. Not that she would ever accept failure. She fully intended to succeed, and she felt convinced this was the moment to make her move. She planned to solve a major problem and hopefully lay the foundation to a stronger bond with Rosslyn at the same time.

  “Try to relax. I only need you to signal to the chef who will be standing by the door when it’s time. I’ve arranged for everything else. I’ll make the announcement, but remember it’s vital that we keep the truth of what we’re doing from the queen until we spring the surprise.”

  Rosslyn took a deep, steadying breath and nodded. “I’ll do it. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Ailsa squeezed her shoulder to reassure her and gave her a warm smile. “Don’t worry. Be brave, and you’ll see we’ll succeed. Won’t it be nice to enjoy a little honest celebration?”

  For a moment Rosslyn’s expression softened. It looked like she was enjoying a happy memory. Ailsa hoped she could win many more happy memories with her children. She left Rosslyn and headed toward the dining hall where the queen took her meals, a converted banquet room, one of the few big enough to host the queen and the large crowds she insisted attend her at every meal.

  Craigroy met Ailsa as she entered, and he surprised her by making a gallant bow and holding the door for her.

  “Thank you. What’s gotten into you today?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” he said with a little smile.

  “Fine. Keep your secrets,” she said calmly, although inside she wanted to rejoice. She had no doubt he’d overheard the quiet conversation in the hallway. He was a spymaster after all, and he’d been covertly tracking her for days. She’d made sure to drop a few tantalizing clues that she was keeping an important secret.

  “Sometimes I wonder which of us keeps more,” he said softly.

  “Keep digging for them and you’re likely to dig yourself right into an avalanche. What news from your speakstone?”

  “Very interesting news indeed,” he said calmly. “I’ll share it with you later.”

  “Why not share it now?” she pressed, although she knew why. She had worried that Wolfram might miss the schedule she’d set for the trick message. Craigroy’s actions proved he’d received the first part and that he’d jumped to the conclusion she wanted him to after he overheard her conversation with Rosslyn. No doubt he was secretly exulting that he was about to destroy her.

  “I’m having a copy transcribed for you,” Craigroy lied smoothly. “I’ll have it ready immediately after the feast.”

  “Very well,” she said and passed him the daily dose of antidote in a tiny vial. Then she moved into the dining hall and took her place at the head table beside the queen’s chair.

  Ailsa wore a fine but simple dress with a subtle floral design. Aonghus was not in attendance yet, but Rosslyn joined her a moment later, along with her father and several of the other highest-ranking officials and officers, including Lord Eoghan and his wife, Lady Fenella, rulers of Crann. He was tall and slender, appropriate for a Strider. His voluptuous wife was rumored to be a very competent Boulder. The queen had declared a grand feast to celebrate the eve of the army’s march, so everyone wore dress uniforms or their best clothing. The huge room was filled with
a riot of colors, and a mixture of perfumes mingled with the scents of roasted meats and fresh breads wafting in from the kitchen.

  A servant passed the head table where Ailsa sat, carrying a tray of extra plates and forks. He paused at her plate to replace her fork. At the same time, he deftly slipped her a small piece of rolled parchment. She slid it into her lap and unrolled it to scan the contents.

  Excellent. It was the full transcript of the latest overheard conversations captured by Craigroy’s speakstone, which he still thought undiscovered in Merkland, and it confirmed her suspicion that things were falling into place.

  Queen Dreokt swept into the room a moment later, looking regal in a spectacular gown of silver trimmed in gold. She wore a delicate silver crown, studded with diamonds, and looked perfectly healthy. All rose to bow or curtsy to her, but she seemed a little distracted and barely gestured acknowledgment of the honor before taking her seat and clapping impatiently. “Let the feasting begin. I’m famished.”

  Serving staff scurried to bring the first courses to her and then to the rest of the room. Queen Dreokt was very fond of roasted duck, so the cooks had prepared a delectable dish of diced duck, covered in a warm honey glaze, which added a subtle sweetness to the wonderful blend of spices. Ailsa closed her eyes to savor each bite. The meat was perfectly cooked, tender and juicy. Portions of roasted greens, caramelized onions, and beets were served with the duck, blending exceptionally well.

  Other dishes included fresh breads, pork sautéed in gravy, and steak cutlets grilled in a tangy sauce topped with chopped and roasted almonds. The outstanding feast held an extra layer of savor for Ailsa as her sense of anticipation grew. Craigroy represented a very real threat, one that she could not beat physically. He was famously clever, but his trust in that speakstone would be his undoing.

  It really was a wonderful feast. Eoghan and Fenella were working extremely hard as hosts and so far seemed to be successful. They and their court had been justifiably terrified that Queen Dreokt would kill or mind wipe most of them when she arrived, but she had shown remarkable restraint.

  Ailsa allowed her surface thoughts to dwell on the local court. Queen Dreokt didn’t seem bothered by the whispered reports from agents of the various lords and ladies involved in Crann politics. Many of them gleefully tattled about misdeeds and alliances to different high houses. As long as they did not betray her trust and held allegiance to her above all others, she did not seem interested in exerting the same level of absolute control as she had in Donleavy. It was an interesting change to her management approach, and Ailsa wondered if she would adopt a similar approach in other cities across the realm.

  Queen Dreokt glanced at her as she daintily dabbed at her mouth with a white napkin. “Of course. I shouldn’t need to command in all things, should I?”

  “Very insightful, Your Majesty. Your wisdom constantly inspires me.”

  The queen chuckled. “And you’re smart enough to see why. I exert my will upon the high lords and ladies, and I aim to make Donleavy a beacon of obedience and excellence. Our standard will be held up for all to see, and they will be given the opportunity to mold themselves in our image. It will take time, but I’m confident we will see progress. Those guilty of egregious mistakes or lack of discipline will be treated accordingly, but one must encourage the outlying realms with inspiration more than with fear.”

  Interesting words. Ailsa kept her surface thoughts focused on appreciation for the queen’s mastery of ruling her subjects. In her deeper, private thoughts, she considered the queen’s words. What she said was absolutely true, but suggested a side of her Ailsa had not expected to see.

  The meal progressed smoothly with no outbursts or surprises. Queen Dreokt seemed in rare good humor, and that seemed to ease Rosslyn’s nervousness. Just as the main courses were being cleared for the dessert courses to be wheeled out, Ailsa rose and said, “If you will permit, my liege, I have an important announcement to make.”

  “By all means,” Queen Dreokt said grandly.

  Ailsa spoke loudly. “May I have your attention, please?”

  Conversation was always hushed during gatherings with the queen, and everyone instantly focused on Ailsa. No one dared miss anything important. Such a lapse might anger the queen.

  Ailsa said, “Tonight we feast on the eve of our departure. Our matchless queen herself will lead her mighty army north to crush all opposition to her rule, but we have even more reason to celebrate. Tonight we celebrate Queen Dreokt’s birthday!”

  Stunned silence met her announcement as all eyes turned to Queen Dreokt, who looked as shocked as Ailsa had ever seen. The queen only managed to stammer, “What?”

  “I’m sorry if I got the date wrong by a little. No one seemed entirely sure of the right day, but you seemed so distraught after that attempt on your life that I thought you would appreciate a little good cheer before we all head off to battle again.”

  Rosslyn made a beckoning gesture to the chef standing by the main doors, and he ducked through. Two seconds later, the doors opened and people flooded into the room, including many of the senior Petralist officers. They waved banners, and Rosslyn herself stood and cried with a loud voice, “Hooray for the queen!”

  All voices raised in unison. “Hooray for the queen!”

  The kitchen doors on the opposite side of the room opened and the head cook rolled a cart into the room. A tall cake, covered in delicate white frosting, filled the entire top layer of the cart. It was an enormous confection, exactly suited to the queen’s temperament and ego.

  Queen Dreokt looked from the cake to the cheering crowd, then to Ailsa, and tears stood out in her eyes. She gushed, “Thank you. You are my dearest friend. No one has done something so thoughtful since my dear Triath died so many centuries ago.”

  She rose and actually embraced Ailsa. Ailsa dared hug her in return, patting her back tenderly. “It’s the least we can do.” Over the queen’s shoulder, she glanced toward the back of the room where Craigroy sat. He definitely looked surprised, but also triumphant.

  He met her gaze and smiled.

  Craigroy rose from his seat and approached the high table as the chef prepared to cut the huge cake. Even though Queen Dreokt scowled, he continued his advance until he bowed in front of her.

  She asked in a dangerous, icy tone, “You dare interrupt my birthday party?”

  “My liege, please pardon the intrusion, but I have word of intrigue and betrayal in your court,” he declared loudly.

  “You have found a spy?” Queen Dreokt demanded. She glanced at Ailsa and asked, “Why did you not bring me word of this?”

  Craigroy answered before she could, shouting in a ringing tone, expression victorious, “Because she is the spy!”

  “You lie,” Ailsa said, filling her voice with scorn.

  The queen looked from Craigroy to Ailsa, her expression darkening. “Have you any proof of this treason?”

  “I do, Your Majesty. I overheard this traitor plotting an attempt on your person with General Rosslyn just before the meal commenced.”

  Rosslyn paled, and her fork rattled on her plate as she dropped it with a clang. Queen Dreokt glared at her and she stammered, “No. I swear.”

  Ailsa said calmly, “He’s lying, Your Majesty. He has no proof, just as he has never had proof. Ever since he has come to your court he’s done nothing but interfere and raise false accusations. If anyone is the spy, it’s Craigroy.”

  “Deny you met with Rosslyn if you dare,” Craigroy demanded, holding his ground despite the queen’s new glare. “Check my mind. If I’m lying—”

  He staggered and clutched at his temples as the queen seized his mind. She gasped and rounded on Ailsa. “It’s true! He eavesdropped on you.” Her face reddened with rage, her eyes filling with ice. “What were you plotting with Rosslyn? I trusted you. I trusted you both, and this is how you repay me?”

  She was working herself up into a towering fury. Ailsa had only seconds before the furious queen snuffed out h
er life or ripped out her mind. Rosslyn looked terrified, her face as white as the queen’s napkin, mouth partly open, but unable to speak.

  Choosing her words carefully, Ailsa said, “Of course I met with Rosslyn before dinner. We were planning the birthday cake announcement.”

  That shifted the queen’s anger back to Craigroy. She started to raise a hand, fingers curled into claws and hissed, “You wrecked my birthday for this?”

  For a moment, Ailsa thought the queen was going to kill him right there. She kept her surface thoughts angry at Craigroy’s interruption of the birthday feast and outraged by his claims.

  Craigroy wasn’t stupid. He couldn’t help take a step backward, but his expression remained confident. He quickly extracted a piece of paper from his coat pocket and held it up like a shield. “Please, Your Majesty, hear me out. I have more proof of Ailsa’s guilt.”

  “Make it quick,” she snapped. “And it had better be good.”

  Craigroy swallowed, and under the queen’s angry stare, his voice cracked once as he began to speak. He recovered quickly, though. “I have here the latest recorded transcript from the spea . . . ah, the listening device I left in Merkland.”

  Good move. The queen might have obliterated him right there if he had said speakstone.

  “This one is from Lady Shona and General Ivor,” Craigroy added, seemingly bolstered by that fact. “Shona said, and I quote, ‘Our spy is in position, right under the queen’s nose. They’re going to strike today.’ Ivor responded, ‘Good timing. They’ll make their important announcement, lull everyone, and then strike.’ Then Lady Shona said, ‘I can’t wait to hear if it works. This should poison the queen.’“

  He finished with a shout, looking at Ailsa with a victorious expression. He pointed at her and said, “Who better than Ailsa is hiding right under your nose? Who rose today with an important announcement? She poisoned your birthday cake! Such a vile act of treachery.”

  The head chef retreated from the cake, looking horrified, shaking his head vigorously. He clearly wanted to protest that he knew nothing of any poisoning but was too terrified to speak. Along the high table, everyone was staring at Ailsa, shocked. Rosslyn looked terrified that she might be considered guilty by association.