“Wisdom, courage, honor. These are the principles by which I hope to lead. These are the principles that embody the spirit of our people. In the end, gold is gold, silver is silver, and copper is copper. We are all free to do trade with whatever coins we choose. But from today, we can carry the same reverence for these principles in our purses as we do in our hearts. Thank you all for coming. And I hope you all enjoy the celebration.”
A riotous final cheer shook the room. Servants emerged with silver trays, and the festivities began in earnest. Ivy practically pranced from her place in line and tackled Myranda with a hug.
“Myranda, it’s been too long!” she squealed.
“Too, too long,” Myranda said, arms tight about her friend. “How have things been in North Crescent?”
“Later, later,” Ivy said. “There’s someone I’ve got to meet.”
She turned and flashed a gleeful smile at the wide-eyed Leo. “Hello, little prince. My name is—”
“Ivy!” squealed the child, arms held out to her.
The malthrope gasped and covered her mouth. “He knows me?” she said, her voice cracked with emotion. “But I haven’t seen him in over a year. Not since just after he was born.”
Deacon held the boy out, and Ivy gratefully hugged him to her.
“We’ve made sure Leo knows all about the other Chosen. Stories every day. And illusions.”
“I’ve read all about you in the little notes your father writes,” Ivy said, nose to nose with the giggling child. “Have you missed Auntie Ivy?”
“Ivy,” he repeated.
She squealed in delight. “I’ve got presents for him, can I walk him around to go get them?”
“Take Myn. She probably doesn’t want to be cooped up in here,” Myranda suggested.
Ivy let Leo slip to the ground and held down her hand. “Come on!”
The prince eagerly toddled along with the playful malthrope. Myn plodded carefully behind, head low to nudge the unsteady walker upright whenever he started to falter. As the unusual pair of “aunts” marched out the door, Caya stepped up, already with a drink in hand.
“Cheers to you, Myranda, Deacon. Kenvard has never had so fine a pair of monarchs, and a boy has never had so fine a pair of parents.”
“Nor so fine a set of godparents,” Myranda said.
“Flattered.” She laughed. “Though Croyden rather wishes you hadn’t given us the distinction. The queen of one kingdom serving as the godmother to the son of another smacks of the very sort of alliance we were trying to put to rest.”
Caya elbowed Deacon in the ribs. “You’ll have to have two more children to even things out with Ulvard and Tressor.” She took another sip of her drink. “So, have you spoken with Tanya and Terrance yet?”
“As a matter of fact, I haven’t,” Myranda said, scanning the hall. “Where have they gone off to?”
“The king and queen wish to wait until they are formally presented during dinner before they mingle socially,” Croyden explained. “Protocol.”
“Protocol is for dull people who can’t improvise,” Caya said. “And that is precisely who the nobles selected to lead Ulvard.”
“You would be better served to keep such opinions to yourself,” Croyden said.
“Among friends is as good as in private, Croyden. And I am not impugning their leadership. Just their personalities. They’ll be a fine king and queen. They’re just a bit of a wet blanket.”
“If you aren’t fond of them, how did they come to be the king and queen? Surely you had a hand in their selection,” Deacon said.
“Oh, the usual ways. Scribes dig up family trees and trace ancestry. A handful of blue bloods argue about who has a claim to the throne. Discussions, redrawn borders, promised marriages, and Terrance and Tanya came out with the crowns.”
“I wonder how things might have differed if you’d let the Ulvardians select their own king and queen, as the people of Verril did with you.”
“If we let the Ulvardians select their own queen, they would have chosen me again. Splitting up the Alliance was hardly a popular decision. But it was time. The Northern Alliance was always a military alliance. It sent the wrong message, keeping it together once the borders to the south reopened.”
She gazed about. “It strikes me, there is one rather notable individual who seems not to be in attendance.”
“Oh?” Myranda said.
“Ether. She’s usually good for a memorable entrance.”
“She will be along. Celia has not been well, and she wished to remain with her until she slept.”
“Celia? … Oh, yes, yes. Her ‘mother,’ correct? I am sorry to hear that she is unwell. Lovely woman.”
“It is really nothing to be concerned about,” Deacon said. “She requested me to look into it personally. Little more than a nagging cold. I would have cured her, but Celia herself insisted it wasn’t necessary.”
“Ether has become very protective of her.”
“Ah. I see. The only thing worse than having no one in your life to care about is the realization that once you do have someone to care about, you might lose them. She’s existed since the dawn of time and only in the last few years has she learned the sort of things the rest of us learned with our first pets. I don’t envy her.”
“I’m proud of her. She is finally a part of the world she’s sought to defend for so long,” Myranda said. “Hopefully, she can learn to embrace the good times once she comes to terms with the bad.”
“The sooner she learns that the better. To that end, let us find our seats, eh? I am famished.”
#
The next few hours were, for the most part, a well-deserved escape from the everyday difficulties of resurrecting three kingdoms that had not had to function separately for more than a century. Music and dancing, good food, and plenty of good drink. Even Ivy’s gleeful insistence on toting Leo around with her wherever she went was a relief. It was rattling at first. Myranda and Deacon found themselves taking turns anxiously realizing they’d lost track of their child, only to spot him chasing Ivy among the tables or balancing on her knee to make a mess of a thick slice of pie. Now Leo had dozed off in Ivy’s arms while she dreamily walked him around the room, murmuring a soft melody. Myranda and Deacon had no shortage of people to help them take care of their son, but there was a special sort of ease that came from knowing that family was caring for family.
“Look at them,” Myranda said with a smile, pushing aside the plate with the remnants of her dessert. “Thick as thieves already. I don’t think I’ve had Leo go this long without calling for Deacon or me since he learned his first words.”
“Surely you have a nanny for him,” Queen Tanya said.
“Several. And nursemaids and servants and a dozen others. But I lost my mother quite young, and I’d believed I’d lost my father as well. We never know what the future will hold. I want as much time with my boy as I can get.”
“Admirable,” King Terrance said.
The tone he used suggested it was, in this case, a synonym for “I fail to see the relevance of this conversation.” As tended to be the case, the seating for the feast was dictated not by friendship but by diplomacy. Myranda and Deacon were joined by Queen Caya and King Croyden representing Vulcrest. Ambassador Maka, a dark-skinned and silver-haired gentleman, represented Tressor in lieu of their monarchs. They, at least, were people Myranda easily counted among her friends. King Terrance and Queen Tanya of Ulvard showed little indication that friendship was anywhere on their list of requirements. They were amicable, but dedicated to the less jovial aspects of the gathering.
“If we could bring ourselves back to the topic of grain. I consulted our records prior to the separation of our kingdoms, and it would appear Kenvard provided us with a small but indispensable portion of our wheat and rye. I would very much like to formalize in the form of a treaty some manner of assurance that the supply will not be interrupted.”
“
If you have need of grain, King Terrance, Tressor has a ready supply,” Maka said, his voice flavored with the accent of the southern tribes.
“That can be discussed, certainly, but at present I would prefer to reestablish prior agreements before sculpting new ones.”
“Terrance, your dedication to diplomacy is admirable, but there is a time and a place,” Caya said. “I have neither the facts, nor the figures, nor the inclination to work out trade agreements at the moment. We are here for two reasons. The first is to celebrate a milestone for Kenvard. So unless you’re through celebrating, I suggest we keep the business talk to a minimum.”
“As a matter of fact, I think it would be an excellent time to move to the next order of business. If that pleases our host, of course.”
Myranda glanced about. As tended to be the case when Caya was involved, the evening had been a lengthy one. Most of the other tables were empty, as their guests from across the kingdoms had retired for the evening. At some point a number of the tables had been pushed aside, and Myn had slipped inside to flop down and consume astonishing quantities of mashed potatoes. Now she was dozing. As they watched, Ivy took a seat on the dragon’s folded claws. Myn sleepily curled a tail around the malthrope. She sighed and leaned against Myn, the prince still safe in her arms.
“Now would be an excellent time,” she agreed. “I would have preferred to wait until Ether arrived. These matters concern her. But better not to let business linger.”
Myranda summoned some of her servants and instructed them to fetch her should Leo awake or Ether arrive. She stood and led the other monarchs into the hallway.
“The private meeting room is this way. I am told this was formerly the muster room, where matters of strategic importance were discussed among officers before orders were dispatched in times of war. It feels like a triumph to utilize it for a more peaceful purpose.”
Two guards stepped aside and opened the door. The monarchs of three kingdoms and the ambassador of a fourth stepped inside. With the exception of Myranda and Deacon, each of the representatives brought an assistant. Those accompanying King Terrance and Queen Tanya carried a large cloth-wrapped box of some sort.
The room was comfortably appointed. A long table, large enough to accommodate twice as many people, stood in the center. There were refreshments, enough candles to provide ample light, and a fireplace to keep it warm. The guards shut and secured the door.
“Let’s get down to it, then,” Caya said. “I’m anxious to—”
“One moment,” Deacon said.
He and Myranda turned to the fireplace.
“When were you going to announce yourself?” Myranda asked.
Two points of light flared among the flames. Gradually, a human form coalesced and stepped from the fireplace. Myranda and Deacon remained impassive. Caya and Croyden were irritated. The king and queen of Ulvard, and both of the servants, were beside themselves. The only person in the room who seemed genuinely delighted was Ambassador Maka.
The brilliant form faded until a beautiful woman stood before them. She was dressed in a manner that seemed precisely calibrated to very slightly exceed the elegance and extravagance of all in attendance.
“I was awaiting the proper moment,” she stated.
“The proper moment would have been when you arrived. I am sure the other attendees would have been excited to have a fourth Chosen One announced,” Myranda said.
“Celia was quite firmly of the opinion that arriving late would have been disruptive and rude,” Ether said.
“What was her assessment of your plan to secretly infiltrate a secure meeting room during a gathering concerning the leaders of the entire continent?” Caya asked.
“We did not discuss it.” Ether took a seat at the table. “I believe there was important business to discuss?”
Myranda and Deacon turned back to the others. The Ulvard royalty were still visibly rattled.
“King Terrance, Queen Tanya, I present to you Ether, the great shapeshifter, Guardian of the Realm. Ambassador to Tressor and the Crescents,” Myranda said.
Ether gave a nod.
“If what you are presenting here today is indeed what we believe it to be, it falls under Ether’s oversight,” Deacon clarified.
King Terrance surveyed the room and, upon discovering the other royals were adjusting far more quickly than he, he rallied. “The case, please,” he said, signaling his assistant.
The frazzled assistant placed a burlap-wrapped case on the table. Deacon stood and began to pull away the wrapping.
“Workers in the outskirts of Territal were expanding a stable when they turned up this case. I think you will agree that it matches the description of what you instructed us to be mindful.”
Deacon revealed the box. The surface was unnervingly pristine for something pulled out of the ground. It was a glossy black metal with an oily sheen. Looking into it gave an eerie sense of depth. The top of the box featured spiderweb-thin white etchings. They traced out complex patterns interspersed with all too familiar runes.
“D’Karon…” Ether said. She rose to her feet and shifted to stone, smoldering eyes fixed on the box.
“You are certain?” Queen Tanya said, endeavoring to keep her gaze from shifting to the supernatural actions of the shapeshifter.
“There is no mistaking it.” Deacon pulled on a pair of gloves and ran his fingers along the surface of the box. “Four of them have turned up in the years since the D’Karon were defeated. This is the fifth. If this is like the others, it contains a wand and a spell book. Each is capable of spreading knowledge of D’Karon magics. That is concerning enough, but tolerable. The issue is the ease with which these items can be used by the unskilled to potentially devastating effect. Even the box itself is a work of grim brilliance. I haven’t worked out precisely how they have achieved it, but it prevents mystic power of any kind from escaping while it is shut, though it does allow a small amount of magic to filter in.”
“Why, precisely, is that brilliant?” King Terrance asked.
“Keeping power from escaping prevents the box from being detected. This may as well be an inert piece of stone for all Myranda, Ether, or I am concerned. But it still allows the wand and book to slowly absorb power.”
“Your instructions regarding the boxes suggested the D’Karon wanted them to be found. I distinctly remember your claim that the entirety of their purpose was to be found and used by those unaware of their danger to reopen the portal for a D’Karon return.”
“The D’Karon have just been defeated. We have all done our very best to spread the knowledge of their treachery and of the danger they pose. It would do little good for these things to glow like beacons and draw others to them. If we’ve done our jobs, any who might find one will know to present it to us to be secured. They need time to pass, both to empower the artifacts within, and to let the memory of their attack fade. This rune here is the D’Karon word for ‘seed,’ and it is an apt name. They need time to put down roots and bear fruit.”
He leaned forward and inspected the seam at the front edge of the box. His hand shuddered a bit as he ran a finger across the seam. He jerked his fingers clear.
“Has this been tampered with?” Deacon asked. “The others we’ve found were quite firmly sealed.”
“We performed some minor investigations with our own mystics.”
Deacon shut his eyes tightly. His fingers curled. “You have opened the box in the presence of the mystically adept. That was… inadvisable.”
“The instructions regarding the treatment of these boxes were very clear,” Myranda said firmly. “They are to be delivered to us so that we can store them safely, and they are not to be opened.”
“It was an act of pure idiocy,” Ether snapped.
“Now that is uncalled for,” King Terrance replied. “We took all due precautions.”
“You couldn’t have taken all due precautions, because even we are still determining wha
t precautions are necessary, and we have considerably more experience with D’Karon workings and teachings than you,” Myranda said. “If you’ve opened the box, the artifacts inside have a greater charge than they would have otherwise. That alone is potentially disastrous.”
“I will have to investigate,” Deacon said.
Caya reached out and threw the cloth cover back over the box. “I agree, but I’d much prefer you do so while the leadership of the continent isn’t gathered around a potentially lethal mystic artifact.”
“Right, yes,” Deacon said. “Naturally, that is wise.”
“When and where will you investigate it?” Queen Tanya asked.
“As soon as possible and in a properly fortified workshop. We have a vault outside of the capital.”
“We request that a member of our staff be present for the investigation,” she said.
“Why?” Myranda asked.
The king and queen of Ulvard glanced at one another.
“Please understand that what I say now does not reflect any personal feelings or opinions. I am merely stating a dispassionate assessment of the facts at hand,” the king said.
“Always an encouraging way to begin a statement,” Caya said, swirling her wine.
He continued. “There are reasons for the people of Ulvard to believe we may not have an equal place in the actions of the north.”
“The world is, of course, grateful for the actions of the Chosen,” the queen said. “We all owe our lives and freedom to their great deeds.”
“But seers and readers of the prophecy will agree that the Chosen represent the world. It would be reasonable that the people of Tressor would be concerned if it appeared the Chosen serve only the north.”
Maka nodded. “It was indeed a matter that required some degree of discussion.”
Queen Tanya continued. “Now it seems they serve only Kenvard.”
“I serve no kingdom,” Ether said.
The Coin of Kenvard Page 2
