by Bryant Reil
They walked a few minutes in silence, and Kyla heard a clamor and turned to see the cause. Creatures in robes - humans, perhaps? - sat astride hairy-looking horses with humped backs and shoved their way past Kyla and Aethelwyne. Though, as Kyla stretched her hand to touch one of the hairy creatures, she swept at air. More illusions.
“What are those things?”
“Humans riding camels. I don’t know much about them, but I’m assured everything in here is very authentic.”
Kyla shrugged. “I know plenty of humans, and they don’t dress like that. Maybe sometimes. They have this day called Halloween and they wear costumes. They like to dress up like animals and monsters and stuff. It was so interesting to see how they decorated. They’d love this maze, now that I think about it. One of the houses in Whitehall had a pretend man hanging by his neck from a tree.” Kyla laughed as she recalled the night. “Eunoe and Aspen tried to rescue him, until they realized he was a fake!”
“I know of Halloween, though I have never had the opportunity to experience it. I’ve never seen an actual human, either. You seem well-traveled.”
“Well, only recently. I hardly ever left home when I was growing up. Spent most of the time playing in the forest, I guess. But, you know, I went to Equinox to see the world, and I’ve really seen a lot of things since then.”
“Oh? Anything more interesting than the human town?”
Kyla stopped. “Oh, crab-apples. Stop it! You’re still playing me, aren’t you?”
“I swear I wasn’t prying. I’m genuinely curious. I meet people from all over the world, and I’ve tried many dishes and seen many plays and dances from every nation, but I never get to go anywhere. I’m so sorry. You don’t have to answer that question, if you don’t wish to.”
“Fine. I’m just a little jumpy about being spied on, you know? I overheard the Queen. I know she’s watching me and my friends and family. And I know I’m a prisoner here.”
“You aren’t a prisoner.”
“I am. I’m not allowed to leave, am I?”
Aethelwyne frowned. “No. I am not to permit you to leave. But I thought you didn’t want to go until you spoke with the Queen.”
“I don’t. But I’d like it to be sooner, rather than later.”
“I always report to her after dinner. Perhaps I can convince her to grant you an audience tonight. She hasn’t forgotten you, only there are many rebellions about, and Oberon is busy dealing with them, so she must manage his other affairs.”
Kyla placed her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. “Appreciate it. I think I see it. The humans are getting off their camels. There’s someone else there. Another illusion?”
“No,” Aethelwyne replied. “That’s a friend of mine. I’ll introduce you.”
Kyla dove straight into the fountain fully dressed, and gulped water as she splashed and swam to cool off. The illusory humans walked aimlessly as their camels drank, and Aethelwyne, keeping several steps back from the water, stood by the other figure, a mottled green lizard woman. The woman wore a head-dress of spines, but no robe, and looked to be sunning herself on the rock on which she sat.
“Come on in!” Kyla shouted as she splashed some water at the sprite, who, startled, backed away.
“I won’t be able to fly if I get water on my wings.”
“Water sprites can fly wet.” She didn’t know this for certain but felt it must be true.
“I am not a water sprite. As you can imagine, fire does not take so well to water.”
“Well, you’re missing out.” Kyla rolled onto her back, so her eyes gazed at the sky. It was cloudless now, and hot. The fountain was only a few feet deep, but sufficient to float on her back. She considered undressing: she and her family often swam naked when they were alone at Lake Gimgal. It might, however, be improper in front of the Royal Heir and a strange lizard-woman.
There were a few minutes of quiet as Kyla hummed to herself and relaxed in the water. In her periphery she saw Aethelwyne and the lizard-woman speaking. Kyla took a deep breath, the sweet cooled air over the water filling her lungs. She felt invigorated, and the tension of her stay at the palace drifted away.
She dipped her head below the surface, just to moisten her hair, and a gurgling voice blasted in her face in a swarm of bubbles.
“You must get out!”
Kyla recognized that voice. Didn’t she? It was difficult to tell underwater.
“Ismenis?”
Kyla stared down into the water, trying to catch a glimpse of the source of the noise, but saw nothing.
“You okay over there?” Aethelwyne called.
Kyla turned to Aethelwyne. “Yeah. Just got some water in my ear.”
She dragged herself from the water, her clothes heavy and wet, and slapped herself down on a rock next to the lizard-woman.
Aethelwyne ended the silence, her voice soft. “This is Samessil. She works here at the palace.”
“Just out enjoying the sun,” the lizard-woman hissed. Her smile was uncomfortably toothy.
Kyla extended her wrist, which was received with a confused stare. She put it back down. “I’m Kyla. Just visiting.”
Aethelwyne smiled. “Kyla is a special guest of the Queen. She is the newly appointed Chief of the Digans, and just re-opened the aurichalcum trade.”
Samessil’s tongue flicked out and licked her eye. “Impressive.”
Kyla shrugged. “Not really. I didn’t even go to the meeting. I haven’t even signed off on it, and I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to.”
Aethelwyne stood tall, her shoulders back. “If the Queen says it is done, then it is done. Why don’t we just sit with Samessil for a while? I could use some sun myself.”
“Sure. I don’t mind. I’m going to go sit in the shade, though.”
“No!” Samessil hissed. “Stay here. I don’t meet many elves. Tell me, from where do you hail?”
“Aspengrove.”
“And how many—”
A surge of water lapped up over the rocks, flooding onto the sandy oasis. Aethelwyne only just managed to shrink and fly into the air before getting hit by the wave.
“Go!” cried the voice. It was clearer this time, and Kyla was certain it was Ismenis.
Samessil was looking to the center of the pool, and Aethelwyne was flying above it. The water continued to swell, and Kyla braced herself for the next wave, which nearly knocked her from her perch. She leaped up and trotted to the trees lining the oasis, and even here the water lapped at her toes.
“Who’s doing this?” Aethelwyne screamed. “How dare you! I shall see you hanged!”
Something was amiss, and Kyla couldn’t help but feel she was the center of it. The water continued to swell, and in a mighty heave, a final wave towered overhead and slapped down against the ground, sending Samessil scurrying for cover and splashing Aethelwyne’s wings. The fire sprite plummeted into the pool and spat and cursed as she swam to shore. The illusion blinked, and faded, and the sand and trees and camels and humans and the pool itself vanished to reveal a white fountain surrounded by hedges. Samessil was cowering under a spirally-trimmed shrub, and Aethelwyne pulled herself from the fountain.
“What was that?” she screamed. “Samessil! Who did you tell you were coming here?”
“No one, Majesty!” the lizard-woman coughed. “I swear!”
Aethelwyne stood and sparked, apparently trying to start a blaze, but stamped her foot as she achieved nothing but smolder. “Great. As soon as I dry off you’re going to get it.” She cast her eyes at Kyla, though was still speaking at Samessil. Now what am I supposed to do with her?”
“I told you before, we should ki—”
An urgent gesture from Aethelwyne silenced Samessil as a trio of fairies dressed in blue flew from above.
“Kyla Nim!” one called. “We bear urgent news. The Queen needs to speak with you.”
There was a zap and Kyla was standing in a room in front of a large round table. The fine red and black rug on wh
ich she stood soaked up the water that dripped from her clothes. She pulled her bangs from her eyes and looked about the room. The Queen stood at the opposite end with a pair of guards behind her. An orc and a dwarf, each holding a spear with the butts planted on the ground. A toad-looking individual in a gold and white robe with a collar higher than his head sat to her left, and a pale man with four arms sat on the Queen’s right. Myam from Kyla’s first meeting with the Queen sat next to a gray-skinned man with horns and nothing on but a green sash. They all looked at her, and their faces were stern.
Kyla’s heart raced. They had found her out, and now she was to be questioned. Would she be tortured? No. She would freely tell them everything about Erebus and Sophrosyne. She might go to prison but revealing the truth might earn her a comfortable cell. Perhaps the room in which she was staying. Maybe even one with a window.
“Kyla, there’s been…there’s been a tragedy.”
Kyla nodded. She tried to curtsy, but her wet clothes clung to her skin and made it awkward. “Yes. But would it be okay if we spoke about it in private?”
“We can speak later. Right now—”
“Later?” Kyla looked at the Queen, and her abrupt tone seemed to draw a few gasps. “I’ve been waiting for days! You promised to go over the trade agreement with me and you never did!”
“Silence. You need to hear this. Your father has been killed by bandits.”
What? Kyla wasn’t certain she heard that correctly. She looked down at her feet, and then up again, and then down, and up, and then around the table at each of the faces staring back at her.
“What did you say?” Despite her body dripping with water, Kyla’s throat felt gritty and dry.
“I’m sorry, Kyla. He was delivering shoes to Monarch and was accosted by bandits. He tried to comply and give them his goods, but they weren’t happy with a sack full of shoes and one of them ran him through with a sword. We are pursuing them. They will be brought to justice.”
Kyla looked around again. Was this another part of the labyrinth? Some grand illusion? It did seem rather convenient that they just happened to call for her as the fountain in the labyrinth went crazy. Some sort of adventure for the center of the maze. Maybe a test of her character. But an illusion, most certainly.
The Queen stood. “Don’t feel you need to speak. We shall take you back to Aspengrove. Your mother has been informed we are coming.”
Kyla’s brain knew it was all an illusion, but the message wasn’t getting to the rest of her body. Her heart was splitting in half, and her stomach was flipping inside out, and her knees thought there was an earthquake. Maybe that was part of the illusion. It was becoming difficult to remain standing.
A voice echoed through her ears and back again. “Grab her before she falls.” It was hollow and ringing, and Kyla couldn’t piece together what the words meant.
“Kyla?” That word she knew. She was Kyla. Only…now she was also falling, until something solid stopped her.
Her lungs hurt. Air. She needed air. She opened her mouth and tried to draw some in, but it didn’t help. She couldn’t remember…was there something she had to do with her throat? She swallowed, but that didn’t help.
There was some pressure on her head and a light appeared. A blurry face loomed above her. Kyla brought a finger to her eyes. They were spewing water. She supposed she should wake up, but try as she might, the blurry woman kept poking and prodding. After a while a pair of arms worked their way under her and hefted her from the ground. Oh, yes, this was her father. He had carried her this way many times when she was little. Perhaps she was little still. That would explain the oddity of the recent images in her mind: befriending dragons, being chased by dwarves, capturing the god of darkness. She couldn’t wake up now, but perhaps if she closed her eyes long enough, all the shaking and muffled shouting would go away, and she longed for morning, when she could run to her father and throw her arms around his neck, and kiss him, because as much as she loved him, she felt that was something she had never done often enough.
Chapter Twenty-One
Heart of Darkness, Song of Light
Lianaria clutched her breast as the royal guard zapped into view in front of the door to the shoe shop.
“Kyla!” she shouted as she ran up, barely noticing Queen Titania and her retainers appearing a few feet away. One of the guards held Kyla in his arms. She lay limp but was breathing, albeit slowly, and her eyes were open but lolled to the side. They moved to meet Lianaria’s own, but there was no smile, no hello, no hug. Lianaria caressed the side of Kyla’s face and placed the back of her hand on her forehead. She felt warm, but it was difficult to gauge precisely as she was drenched in cool water.
“Put her down.”
The guard holding Kyla, an armored orc, placed her on the ground and Lianaria knelt over her. She placed her ear to Kyla’s chest. Her heart was beating rapidly. Her stomach moved, barely discernible.
“She drowned?” Lianaria asked.
“No,” the Queen replied. “I believe she had been swimming in a fountain on the palace grounds. She was already drenched when she was brought to me.”
Lianaria nodded and tilted Kyla’s head back and fished a finger in her mouth to clear her tongue from the passageway. It was enough, for Kyla suddenly took a deep breath.
Queen Titania bowed. “I told her of your husband, and she became weak. She collapsed before we could bring her home. I have sent for a physician to be along shortly.”
Lianaria had only just learned of Philosthenes’ death that morning, and only because, apparently, the Queen was having them both watched.
“Bring her inside,” Lianaria waved. She then realized it would be difficult to carry Kyla up the ladder carved into the trunk of the oak that led up to their home. “It might be easier to teleport. Her room is on the other side of the tree, with the green curtains. I’ll lead you around.”
Lianaria peered up at Bit’s window as she passed. He had shut himself up in his room, and refused to talk, but that was typical of her teenage son. Kyla was a talker, and even in times of trouble had difficulty stopping her jaw from moving. When her grandparents had died years earlier, it was Kyla who stayed up with Bit and recounted fond memories to console him. Kyla was closer to her father, of course, and Lianaria had expected wailing, and cursing, and been prepared for it, but to see her lying there, silent, chilled her.
“That one. Please, just place her on her bed.” She turned to Queen Titania, who had followed. “Thank you for bringing her home.” It was odd, and perhaps an honor, that the Queen herself had come, but Lianaria didn’t care about that right now. “Would it be possible for me to send a message to her friends at Equinox? I would like to invite them to the funeral.”
“Of course, Mrs. Nim.”
“Lianaria. Call me Lia, Your Highness.”
“Very well. Lia.” The Queen nodded at a guard, which was enough for him to understand the command.
Lia ran into the shop for a quill and ink and dabbed a quick note. She folded it, not in the mood to worry about envelopes and seals and other formalities. “You can give this to her roommate, Aura, or her friends Eunoe and Aspen. Or Marik Esilgard. They are welcome to invite any others that may wish to support Kyla.”
The guard took the note and bowed. “It will be done.” In a flash, he vanished.
“I am sorry about what has happened, Lia.” The Queen lowered her head. “Bandits have become a problem, and my husband and I are working on a solution. I shall see to it that you and your family are taken care of.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. I don’t require much.”
“We will take care of the funeral. Save your resources for the living, and we shall honor the departed.”
Lianaria smiled through her swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I would like to mulch him in two days, though we haven’t yet received the body to begin preparations.”
Queen Titania turned to another of her guards. “See it brought here immediately. Lia, I
shall attend the funeral myself, if that is fine with you. If you need any help with Kyla, please let me know. She has been our honored guest only a few days yet has left quite an impression at High Haven.”
Lia smiled again but said nothing as the Queen and her remaining retainers disappeared. The Queen was gracious, but that Kyla had been a guest at the palace and not sent an excited message home was a sign that her stay had been anything but ‘honored’.
***
Eunoe stared out the Nim’s common room window, her chin resting in her palm, as large crystallized flakes drifted to the ground. It would not be good for the sprouting leaf-buds on the trees, and Aspen was out singing them to sleep so they wouldn’t freeze. No one else was in the house. Lianaria and Bit had gone out early to see Philosthenes’ body and begin their rituals of preparation. Eunoe, for her part, found peace in the pure snow, and the stillness and silence only broken by Aspen’s distant melody.
The only other person in the home was Kyla. The normally chatty elf hadn’t said a word since Eunoe and Aspen flew in on Castor. Perhaps a relaxing walk would do each of them some good. Eunoe finished her peppermint tea and pushed away from the small table. Kyla’s room was across a wood and rope walkway into a separate pod that rested slightly higher than the common room. The walkway was dusted with snow, and a misstep would send Eunoe slipping off the side to the ground, perhaps fifteen feet below. She braced herself against the side of the tree as she walked, and on reaching Kyla’s door, gave a light rap with her knuckles.
No one answered. Kyla was either asleep or ignoring her. Eunoe was not offended. She had never known a father or mother, as nymphs had none, but she ached with envy over the families of mortal creatures and imagined having something so wonderful as a father, only to lose him. She grabbed the latch and pulled it open, peering into the room before making a soft step inside.
There was a lump on the bed under a patchwork quilt. Eunoe tiptoed up to it and pressed her hand against what she assumed to be Kyla’s shoulder.
“I’m going out for a walk,” she whispered. “There’s a lovely snowfall, and Aspen is singing the trees to sleep. Would you like to join me?”
