The Common King

by Brian Olsen

  I smile back at him. “I have no idea what any of that meant.”

  Tes leans in. “That’s perfect, Dante. My Lord, we should go in.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Dante looks down the hall, at the open door to the ballroom. “Your mom said…shoot, I mean…Mrs. Armstrong…no…what’s her name now?”

  “Kelle.”

  “Yeah, Kelly said you wanted us all in there but is it all right if I skip it? I’m still semi-traumatized from when Jasmine did it to me, and then you did it to that other guy and that wasn’t, like, fun to watch, exactly? And now—”

  I hold up my hand to stop him. “It’s all right, Dante. I’ll send Kenny out when we’re done. You can renew your spell and get some sleep.”

  “Oh, cool.” He runs a hand through his thick hair, nonchalantly. “I mean, I did sleep some earlier. So I’m not that tired. I could caffeine up. If somebody needed me to be awake. To keep them company. Or not. Whatever.” He stretches, blatantly flexing his biceps. “I’ll just be in my room later, if you’re looking for me for some reason. Or, maybe working out. Or swimming. Or in the sauna…”

  “You have the freedom to do as you please, Dante.” I take Tes’s arm again. “Shall we, my queen?”

  We barely take two steps before Tes whispers to me, “Somebody wants back in those royal jeans of yours…”

  “Was it really necessary for you to restore his memories of our prior arrangement?”

  “Yes, since it was the only reason he was loyal to you in the first place. Dante’s soft, so if you want to keep him from questioning what we’re doing, maybe throw him a bone.” She giggles. “So to speak.”

  I sigh. “I don’t have time for him now.”

  She nudges me with her hip. “There’s always time for an Italian stallion like Dante.”

  “Was he…” I stop walking. “Were he and Chris…?”

  She blinks wide, surprised. “I thought you didn’t like talking about Chris?”

  I fold my arms. “I need to know anything useful, and my relationships in this manufactured world are useful. Were Dante and Chris ever involved?”

  “No. Almost, but no.” She looks back at Dante, who’s slumped over and snoring gently. “Dante doesn’t go to Charlesville Academy so I don’t know him super well. Chris and Nate met him at the LGBTQ Center in town.”

  “The what?”

  “I told you. The—”

  I wave my hand for her to continue. “Oh, yes, yes. I remember, you told me of the place. Bizarre concept. Go on.”

  She shakes her head slightly. “It’s not bizarre. Anyway, Chris liked Dante and they flirted a lot, but Dante was dating somebody else. Then Dante and that guy broke up, and Nate tried to hook him and Chris up, but Nate didn’t know yet that Chris was already seeing Zane.”

  I laugh. “I still have difficulty believing my inferior alter ego became involved with Desh Nonechild, the one logomancer who ever came close to defeating me. Whatever whim of fate shaped our lives after the Moment, it certainly had a sense of humor.”

  “Oh, it gets even crazier!” Tes grins. “I don’t think I told you this part. Zane used to bully Chris and Nate when they were kids! He’d tease them and beat them up for being gay! And then he and Chris fell in love! Isn’t that, like, super sweet but also incredibly toxic and long-term unhealthy? I so loved you guys together. I’m team Chrane all the way. Oh!” She slaps her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. No more Chris. I got carried away. Please don’t burn my ears again.”

  “It’s fine.” I scratch my chin. “I’m too busy chasing down an idea to be annoyed. You say they were enemies as children, before they were lovers?”

  “Oh, yeah. Their parents got involved, they almost changed schools. It was a big deal. What’s your idea? Anything I can help with?”

  “Your help will be instrumental.”

  She claps. “Yay! I love helping!”

  I grab her hand. “Come on, then! Let’s go help an old friend back into her right mind!”

  Laughing together, we run into the ballroom. This is my favorite room in the hotel, because it feels so regal. The walls are a dark paneled wood, with doors from the hall dotting one side, for guests, and more from the kitchens on the opposite side, for servants. The ceiling is a darker brown, offset by crystal chandeliers gleaming with electric light. The thick blue carpet has an elegant gold filigree pattern woven into it. It spans the entire floor, easily two hundred feet across and just as wide, so I can’t imagine how many weavers must have worked on it. I had servants move the round tables covered in fine white cloths to the sides of the room. It’s not an aesthetically pleasing arrangement but we need the space. At one end of the room there used to be a sort of stage made of platforms with folding metal legs, but it looked tawdry so I had it taken away. In its place I’ve put two high-backed chairs, solid mahogany with red cushions, for Tes and me. Not quite thrones, but they’ll do for now.

  The rest of our allies are here, standing and waiting. There are plenty of chairs, pushed into the round tables, but they’re not allowed to use them if I’m here. My followers make a pitiful assemblage. Hardly worthy of the environment. Kenny stands alone, away from the others. His head is bowed, as usual, and his unruly mop of red hair hangs loose. He’s so depressing all the time. It’s not as if I’ve actually harmed his family. In fact, I’ve brought them to a nice hotel where they live like royalty. Would it be too much to ask for a smile?

  “Your Majesties!” Besd leaps up from a chair I hadn’t noticed him sitting in. The scrawny little man’s white face turns bright red, as does the generous portion of scalp visible through his thinning black hair. “I’m so sorry, I have this thing with my back, if I stand for too long—”

  “Music, Besd!” I pull Tes into my arms. “This is a ballroom! Give us a creature who can make music!”

  “Oh, uh, all right.” He frowns. “I’m sure there’s something…”

  “Call him Mr. Finlay,” Tes whispers to me.

  Right. They all prefer their new names, I keep forgetting. I want my subjects to be happy so I’m trying to respect their wishes. Except for Tes, who doesn’t mind that I won’t call her “Jasmine.” And Kelle, of course. I’m certainly not going to call her “Mom.”

  “How about a siren?” Finlay suggests. “Sirens can sing.”

  “A siren, then, Finlay! Give us a siren song!”

  Tes and I twirl, laughing, not waiting for the music.

  Finlay says his word, “Beast,” and transforms. I’ve never seen a siren, but apparently they have the head and torso of a human, with bird wings and legs. His shirt disappears, displaying a pasty, hairless chest that almost ruins my mood. But then he sings, and all is forgiven.

  “Ooh!” Tes closes her eyes and lets me lead her around the ballroom.

  It’s a little hard to dance properly on this thick carpet, but I love it too much to tear it up. I don’t know why they call this a ballroom, though. They couldn’t possibly have balls in here.

  Finlay’s singing is magnificent, but the style of music is unfamiliar to me. It’s from this false world, and my enthusiasm quickly wanes. After a few turns I bow to Tes to bring our dance to a close.

  She curtsies back, then applauds. “That was great, Mr. Finlay! Even better than your DJing at the school dances!”

  “Thank you, Jasmine.” Finlay transforms back into himself. His shirt, mercifully, reappears. “I mean, your Majesty.”

  Our impromptu balladeer was the reason for our third incursion into Charlesville. In this world he’s known as Edgar Finlay, a teacher of biology at the school that Chris Armstrong attended. But in my world, he was a powerful logomancer and a part of my inner circle. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of magical creatures to accompany his ability to transform into them. One might think this ability would make him empathetic towards other species, but no. His hatred for intelligent non-human peoples is like none I’ve ever encountered, far surpassing my own. I doubt even my late friend Muln hated goblins that much, and goblins slaug
htered his family. I’ve no idea why Finlay hates non-humans to such an intense degree. I’ve never asked. I just consider myself fortunate that he does.

  “Are we done dancing, Your Majesties?”

  Kelle, the former Armstrong matriarch, is the last of our merry band. It took a few weeks after my return for her to be of any use to me, despite her ice powers. Chris Armstrong accidentally killed her husband and she simply refused to let it go, no matter how much I reminded her that he wasn’t a real person. It was all for the best anyway, because it was that accident which triggered Chris to embrace my full power, and in doing so, release me from my mental prison. Some people refuse to look on the bright side.

  “I hope we’re never done dancing, Kelle. But I believe we’re ready to begin.” I take my place on my makeshift throne and turn my attention to Kelle’s prisoner. “Welcome. My sincerest apologies for the abrupt manner in which I brought you here this morning. I understand there was some screaming? But everyone’s calm now?”

  The woman standing before me, trembling in terror and covered in a sheen of sweat, says, “Chris? Chris, why…why are you talking like that? What’s happening?”

  It’s bizarre, seeing her like this. Her features are identical to the woman I knew, but I’m amazed I recognized her photo on the school’s web site. The woman I saw there was disquietingly gentle-featured, and now her plump brown face displays fear like I’ve never felt from her before. Her long black hair has streaks of gray that must have always been there, although I never noticed them. Before the Moment, I would have sworn she was of no more than forty years, but now I’d believe without much convincing that she’s ten years older than that, at least.

  I lean forward. “Do you know who you are, Chand? Have you had any memories resurface at all?”

  “Memories?” She straightens her spine. There’s a spark of anger in her eyes now, pushing past the fear. Good. “Mrs. Armstrong,” she continues, “did you put your son up to this?”

  I ask Kelle, “Who does she think she is again?”

  “Mrs. Kumar,” Kelle replies. “She teaches trigonometry at Charlesville Academy, and she stepped in as acting headmistress when Mr. Liefer took his…sabbatical.”

  Mrs. Kumar looks around the ballroom. “Jasmine O’Kane? And is that Kenny Pillman over there?”

  Kenny doesn’t look up. Just as well.

  “Edgar?” My new guest’s jaw drops. “Edgar, we’ve been trying to reach you! You missed the last week of school!”

  Finlay waves at her. “Hello, Mira! Didn’t you get my email?”

  “It made no sense. Something about an emergency biology conference? Have you been here all this time? In this…is this a hotel?”

  “Yes. Sorry for lying. Boss’s orders.”

  “Boss?” She points at me. “Chris Armstrong?”

  I stand up. “I think I’ve heard that name quite enough for today, Chand.”

  She frowns and waggles her finger at me. “I don’t know who ‘Chand’ is. I am Mira Kumar. Mrs. Kumar to you, young man. And I don’t know how you brought me here, but I insist you take me home.” She takes a deep breath, in and out through her nose, and folds her arms. “But first, I think I’d like some explanations. Chris, Jasmine, Kenny, you all missed the end of your junior year. You’ve failed your classes.”

  Tes gasps and slaps her hands to her mouth. I shoot her a look.

  “Sorry.” She smiles weakly. “Failing out of high school used to be a big fear of mine.” She twirls a lock of red hair around a finger and fakes a nonchalant attitude. “But whatever. I don’t even care.”

  “You should care, Miss O’Kane!” the little headmistress says. “At least Chris and Kenny’s families provided some excuse for their absences. Your parents are worried sick! They flew home early from their vacation and now they’ve got the police looking for you!”

  Tes shrugs. “I told them I was fine and not to worry about me.”

  “Not to…?” Mrs. Kumar takes my Nightmare Queen by the shoulders. “Jasmine, I don’t know what’s prompted this. You’ve always been such a good student. All three of you were! Is this…” She raises an eyebrow at Kelle. “Have Mrs. Armstrong and Mr. Finlay been mistreating you? Did they make you come with them?”

  Tes stares at her for a moment, then looks to me. “Can I zap her now?”

  “One more moment.” I take Mrs. Kumar’s hand and lead her away from Tes. “Mrs. Kumar. Please. Answer one question of mine, and then I promise all of yours will be answered in return. Do you remember nothing of a woman named Chand Retyinchild? Does that name not sound familiar to you at all?”

  “Chand what? No, Christopher. Is that a real person’s name? It sounds made up.”

  I sigh. “I hoped some glimmer of the real you might fight her way free, Chand.”

  Kelle shakes her head. “She’s not a logomancer, Your Majesty. I doubt she’s had any flashes since the Moment.”

  Mrs. Kumar tilts her head. “The Moment?”

  “Yes,” I say. “The Moment. What did you experience during the Moment, Mrs. Kumar?”

  She purses her lips in thought, and her eyes take on a faraway look. “I’d almost forgotten. I was having breakfast with my husband. I insisted I didn’t know him, and that my name was…was…was not Mira.”

  “Now,” I say softly. “Kenny. Tes. Now.”

  Kenny finally looks up. He’s been crying. Pathetic.

  “Amplify,” he says.

  Tes takes a sudden, sharp breath. “Ooh! That’s such a rush!” She snaps her head towards Mrs. Kumar. “Nightmare!”

  The headmistress cries out in surprise and drops to her knees, catching herself on the carpet with one hand. Her arm trembles, just barely supporting her, while her head shakes back and forth. She’s talking rapidly, but in whispers, nothing I can make out.

  I crouch down next to her. Her eyes are open, but she sees something far different than the scene in the ballroom.

  “What are you showing her?” I ask softly.

  “Everything,” Tes replies. “She’s strong. She can take it.”

  Mrs. Kumar’s arm gives out and she falls forward, resting on her elbows and knees. I wait a moment more. Her whispering stops. Her breathing is heavy and labored.

  Finlay bends over a little. “Mrs. Kumar? Are you all right? I went through this too, it’s not easy…”

  I glare at him and he shuts his mouth.

  “I’m…” She takes another deep breath, then pushes herself up, sitting back on her heels. She pulls her hair out of her face. “I’m all right. That was…a little overwhelming.”

  I stand and extend my hand. “Let me help you up.”

  “Thank you, but I need no assistance.”

  She gets to her feet and brushes herself off even though the carpet is immaculate. She stands straighter than before, and there’s no longer any hint of fear in her eyes.

  She bows to me. “Your Majesty.”

  I laugh. “Baroness Chand!” I slap her shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.”

  She raises an eyebrow and takes in the room. “Where are we? What is our situation? Our resources? Are those assembled here the sum total of our support, or are there more elsewhere?”

  “Hah!” I clap my hands and turn to Kelle. “You see? Always thinking strategically. And you said it was a waste waking up anyone who isn’t a logomancer!”

  Kelle bows her head. “I will always defer to your wisdom, Your Majesty.”

  “Ugh. No one likes a sycophant, Kelle. Chand, how much do you remember?”

  Chand touches her forehead. “Much is already fading, Your Majesty. I know I’m Baroness Chand Retyinchild, supreme general of the armies of the Common King. But…” She frowns. “I’m also Mira Kumar, acting headmistress of Charlesville Academy. Wife and…and mother…”

  “Mira Kumar is a lie,” I say. “A convenient lie, for the time being, and I’m going to need both your false memories and your true ones in the days ahead. You may contact your false family and tell the
m whatever story you wish to explain your absence.”

  She nods. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I assume you intend to restore your army as well?”

  “No. Our human forces are scattered around the world, living new lives with no memory of the truth. It would take too much time to find enough of them to be useful. No, I need you for something else entirely, Chand.”

  “Chand,” she repeats, gazing off at nothing. “I know it’s my real name, and yet, it feels…” She shudders.

  Tes touches her shoulder. “We can keep calling you Mrs. Kumar for now, if you want.” She gives me a stern look. “Nobody will mind.”

  Chand – ugh, all right, Kumar. Kumar pats her hand. “Yes. Just for now. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  I return to my throne. Tes, never one to miss a cue, sits at my side, and my loyal servants line up before me. Finlay, Kelle and now Kumar. Kenny, of course, stays moping by the door, and Dante’s probably face down drooling in the hallway. Trust them to ruin a dramatic moment.

  “We’ve one more to recruit to our side,” I say. “One more ally to awaken.”

  I create a halo of flames around my head. It never hurts to add a little spectacle to one’s pronouncements.

  “Soon, we’ll be done waiting. Done hiding.”

  Tes shivers from excitement. “And then…?” she prompts me.

  “And then,” I continue, “the Common King will rule the world once more.”

  Three

  There’s a lot of boring bureaucracy that goes with ruling the world.

  Muln used to handle all that for me. He took care of all the tedious bits and left me to get on with enjoying myself. When I wasn’t throwing parties or dallying with Ope or watching people’s dreams with Tes, I’d be with Baroness Chand clamping down on potential rebellions, or preparing a campaign against some magical species or another. We’d won the support of the peasantry by convincing them that non-humans were a threat, so we couldn’t exactly go and make peace with them, after all. Besides, war justifies taxes, which are good for the royal coffers. Or so I’ve been told. That’s part of the boring stuff Muln used to handle. I liked the strategizing, and the fighting.