Cry of Metal & Bone

by L. Penelope

  She closed her eyes and took one of the queen’s hands. Sinking into her other vision, she was blinded by the Nethersong. Drawing it from her was having no effect. It had taken over Jasminda completely. The new queen was, by all appearances, dead.

  Still, Kyara tried harder, pulling at it all, breathing it in like air. But there was no Void rushing in as there had been when she’d done this before when Darvyn had been poisoned, just more Nether. This poison must have some sort of magical properties to it. Amalgam had to be at work here. It was the only answer.

  Though it seemed futile, Kyara refused to give up. She gathered her strength and tugged with all her might on the energy. It filled her, like a crushing wave pulling her under. Her other sight blanked out, and she stood inside a doorway made of smoke and light. All around her was blackness, and cold rattled her bones. She recognized this place from her dream—she had traveled to the World After. Queen Jasminda stood before her.

  Kyara took a step forward, and the whispers started in earnest. She was only a few paces from the queen, whose back was to her, but each step she took seemed to put her farther away.

  “Your Majesty?” she called out.

  The queen turned, her expression frightened. “Where am I?”

  “The World After.”

  The queen’s face crumpled. “What happened? All of a sudden I felt…” She grasped at her neck.

  “You were poisoned. It felt magical to me. I think it was some kind of amalgam poison from the Physicks. Maybe the same kind they used to generate Nethersong before they captured me, only more potent.”

  The queen’s arms fell to her sides, and a look of despondency came over her. “Jack.”

  “Your Majesty, I think I can bring you back.”

  Jasminda looked up, surprised. “How, when we’re both dead?”

  “I’m not. I mean, they didn’t … execute me … yet. But did Darvyn tell you I’m a Nethersinger?”

  Jasminda turned around again, lost in her own grief. Kyara could still see the glowing doorway behind them. She felt that if she could get Jasminda back through it, the queen would live again. Kyara reached for her, only to be frozen in place when a young girl entered the circle of light in which they stood.

  “Ahlini?”

  The girl walked up to Kyara, closer than she’d ever come in one of the dreams.

  Kyara kneeled to face her. “I’m so sorry, Ahlini.”

  The others came again—her victims—forming a circle around her, only this time, unlike in her dream, they were quiet. No one threw out accusations or blame. They all stood staring silently.

  Jasminda turned around, obviously able to see them, too. She chuckled harshly. “What is this, the welcoming committee?”

  “Ahlini,” Kyara said, “let me help her leave. She doesn’t belong here. If I can do this one thing, then you all can do whatever you want to me. Take whatever vengeance you feel you need.”

  She saw Jasminda freeze in her peripheral vision. Ahlini extended her hand and Kyara took it. She’d expected cold, frigid skin, but instead, the young girl was as warm as she’d been in real life.

  “You have to save them,” Ahlini whispered with urgency.

  “Save who?”

  “The living. Both of you do. You must go back.”

  Kyara shook her head, trying to make sense of the words. “I don’t understand.” She looked up to see all her victims looking at her imploringly. “Where is Mooriah?”

  “Go now. Save them. Embrace the Light.”

  A new doorway appeared behind the spirits, this one made of flame. Its flickering light danced along Ahlini’s pleading face. One by one, her victims passed through the doorway of fire and disappeared until just Ahlini, Jasminda, and Kyara remained. Then Ahlini pulled away, following the others until she, too, was gone, the fire along with her.

  Kyara swallowed and stood. This was so different from her dream. She couldn’t begin to parse it, and the softly glowing doorway leading back to the Living World was beginning to fade. Queen Jasminda stared at Kyara, a thousand questions in her eyes. Hopefully, there would be time for answers later. She grabbed the queen’s hand and tugged her toward the doorway.

  Stepping through the shining arch of light felt like walking through soup. The space around her resisted her passage, sucking her sideways as if trying to lead her elsewhere. She felt the Void at the edges, a powerful yet ambivalent force. It wanted her for some reason, but she shrank away.

  Full of Nethersong from the World After, Kyara was strong enough to push her way through the doorway, past the density of the Void. She made sure to have a strong grip on Jasminda and pulled her along.

  Kyara’s vision blurred. When she blinked her eyes, she was once again looking at the Living World through her other sight, still drawing Nethersong away from Jasminda’s motionless body. Only now the staticky visual noise of the Void was rushing in to take its place. Kyara sucked in a breath. The Void was neither death nor life, but at least it was progress.

  “Earthsong!” she called out. “Darvyn, she needs Earthsong. Flood her with as much as you can.” She couldn’t see him with her other sight, but she was certain he would assist.

  Kyara redoubled her efforts, pulling the bright Nethersong out of the queen’s lifeless body and watching in her mind’s eye as the static of the Void was replaced with the darkness of Earthsong.

  Soon the queen’s body responded. The life energy within her multiplied until just a tiny spark of Nether remained—less than an adult of her age normally held. She must be a powerful Earthsinger.

  Kyara sat back on her heels and focused her physical vision back on the Living World. Within a few moments, Queen Jasminda’s eyes fluttered open. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and she gasped for breath only to be crushed against the king as he embraced her.

  “Jasminda,” he breathed as their tears mingled.

  In a small voice, the queen reassured him that she was all right. He sobbed against her and Kyara looked away, exhausted from the effort of dragging Jasminda back from death. She wavered and found herself propped up by Darvyn, his sturdy arms lending the physical strength she lacked.

  “Thank you,” the king said to Kyara. “I didn’t think it was possible.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Jasminda said, reaching for her hand, squeezing with a tight grip, and Kyara smiled wearily.

  “You’re welcome. It wasn’t your time to go.” She knew that instinctively.

  Behind them, the agitation of the crowd bubbled. Kyara dragged her head up to see the queen rise.

  “We need to leave,” the king said, motioning to the Guardsmen near the long, black town car.

  Jasminda placed a hand on her husband’s chest. “No, not yet.” She shook her head firmly at his aggrieved expression. “They tried to kill me, and I want them to know I’m not cowed.”

  She turned toward the stage. After a moment’s pause, the king followed, his face a hard mask. They climbed back onto the platform to assure everyone of her well-being. A cheer went up in the audience.

  Regardless of what some thought about the half-Lagrimari queen, she was evidently popular. Both Elsirans and Lagrimari shouted and rejoiced. Few eyes were dry.

  The Goddess stood at the base of the stairs peering out into the crowd. She turned and nodded Her head in Kyara’s direction. Kyara held Her gaze and nodded back.

  Do some good. She’d done her very best.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  And so the girl with the lion’s paws, bird’s legs, lizard’s body, and fish’s tail, whose breath was edged in fire returned to Siruna the Mother. Lemuel the Wise One met her as she approached her home. “How did you find the world, child?” he asked.

  “Stranger than I ever could have imagined,” she replied.

  —THE AYALYA

  Darvyn stood, his hand in Kyara’s, considering the reaction of the crowd. Competing emotions battered him, full as he was of Earthsong. Shock, fear, relief, and desperation each vied for dominance. He looked aroun
d but could not get a bead on who was feeling what. Someone had just tried to kill the new queen. Was the traitor still here watching? Had he or she already fled?

  Near the stage, Lizvette and Tai stood side by side, their eyes wide with concern. Darvyn and Tai shared a glance and it was like the Raunian knew just what he was thinking. Tai put his arm around Lizvette and led her toward the street behind the square. Danger could still be lurking here. There was no way of telling friend from foe, and the perpetrator could have easily identified all of them from their trip to Yaly.

  To his right, in the open space between the platform and the gallows, Aggar’s bulky figure stepped up, a bullhorn in his hand. “I’m quite certain I speak for everyone when I say how glad I am to see our new queen faring well. I propose we postpone this execution until a more appropriate time.” Aggar’s words penetrated the cheering of the crowd.

  “Postpone?” Darvyn bellowed, incredulous. Were they still going through with this madness? “Did you not see her save the queen’s life?”

  Shocked expressions surrounded him. These people had no clue what had just transpired. To outsiders, the queen had fallen suddenly ill and then arisen a few minutes later.

  He turned to Oola who stood behind Jasminda.

  You must do something.

  Oola’s cool gaze slid over him. You think that I am doing nothing? Kyara needs to learn to use her power or we are all doomed.

  He shook his head slowly. You did this on purpose? To … to help her learn her power? He couldn’t comprehend the callousness of the plan. Did you know that someone was poisoning Jasminda? Did you let it happen? Why didn’t you say anything?

  Oola blinked, and Her expression hardened. There are mistakes that have been made that cannot be repeated. Over five centuries, I have found that people learn not with their ears but with their hearts. Words mean little.

  No. No! Darvyn shook his head over and over. Kyara reached for him, worried. You cannot move us around like puzzle pieces. You cannot play our lives as you would a flute.

  His knees sagged, and Kyara held him up. He would lean on her for just a little while. Oola’s games and riddles were nothing new to him, but this was too much.

  Jasminda’s clear voice pierced the fog of his mind. “This woman—Kyara—has saved my life,” she announced. She looked at Jack expectantly until he translated, though she could easily have done so herself. “Her case will come back under the consideration of myself and the king. For now, her execution is stayed.” Her gaze turned to Darvyn, and he knew, just knew, that she would not let Kyara die.

  We will find a way to save her, Jasminda sent to him. I owe it to her and to you. My thanks will never be enough.

  Darvyn took a deep breath and stood up straighter. He would go back to the elders. He had to make them see reason. Perhaps he might even persuade Oola to speak to them. Now that he knew She’d never really wanted Kyara dead, She would have to break Her silence.

  Kyara vibrated with tension beside him, and he placed an arm around her shoulders. She would not want to break down in front of an audience, but her emotions were clearly running high.

  Turwig, Hanko, and Talida approached Aggar. They whispered animatedly, and a strong anger cut through their numbers. Talida gestured emphatically next to Aggar. Turwig and Hanko were shaking their heads, but Talida pushed Aggar forward.

  “Your Majesty,” he said. “I understand that you believe this criminal saved your life, but it cannot make up for the many, many lives she has taken.”

  Jasminda turned in her seat, eyebrows raised.

  “Now is not the time, Aggar,” Turwig muttered, resting a hand on his shoulder. Aggar jerked away.

  “If not now, when?” Talida snapped.

  “Kyara’s case will come under our advisement,” Jasminda repeated. “You have had your say and submitted evidence to the tribunal, but we take executions very seriously here and she was offered no opportunity for defense. Part of the evidence against Kyara was that she was incapable of remorse for her actions. Saving my life today, in front of all these witnesses, seems to prove otherwise. That is reason enough for her case to be given a second look.” Jasminda eyed Aggar, challenging him to talk back again.

  His eyes flashed, but he clenched his jaw, gave an abrupt bow, then turned and stalked away with Talida at his side.

  Darvyn swallowed. Fighting among the elders had been rare when they strategized against the True Father. But now with freedom, the unified front of the Keepers appeared to be cracking.

  He shook his head and turned back to Kyara, whose arms flew around him. He lifted her, holding her close and drowning in her scent. The rest could wait, at least for another day.

  The crowd chattered curiously, as if unsure what to do now that there would be no execution. Darvyn, however, was eager to retreat from the bloodthirsty masses.

  In his arms, Kyara squeezed back tighter. He shut his eyes to the rest of the world and focused on what mattered most to him: her.

  * * *

  And then there were three.

  The round table, meant for five, was down two members. Satisfaction filled Jade to bursting. He felt like an overripe peach.

  To his left, Pearl fidgeted nervously, picking at his nails. His mask was slightly askew, hastily put on. The smooth-cheeked, featureless face was even more ridiculous at an angle.

  “I don’t know what happened,” Pearl said, miserably. “The queen’s drink was dosed last evening. I supervised it myself. I think we need some answers from our Yalyish contact. Didn’t he guarantee results? We should get our money back. Obviously the claims that an antidote didn’t exist were greatly exaggerated.” The pompous fool was blustering. “This is all Amber’s fault. He brokered the deal—”

  “Yet it was you who failed,” Jade spat. “Amber’s incompetence is clear. It’s why he’s sitting in a jail cell now. And why are we persisting with the code names? There’s little use for them anymore. Nirall’s ineptitude matches only Nidos’s. They sit in the dungeon because they were not up to the tasks they were given.”

  Diamond leaned forward, gloved hands pressed firmly onto the table. “We will not disrespect this body any further, and will keep to our rules and traditions. Amber and Sapphire are victims of the foreign plague that has swept our nation. A plague that the Hand of the Reaper has vowed to snuff out. We take care of our own and they will taste freedom again soon.”

  Jade sniffed. “Freedom? The only freedom they’ll see is in the World After when they’re executed. You seriously believe you can get them out of prison?”

  “The Hand of the Reaper is held together by sinew and bone of loyalty. That is part of our strength.” Diamond’s voice was low and fierce.

  “Loyalty to what? An ineffectual windbag?” He motioned to Pearl. “A blue-blooded blowhard?” He pointed to Diamond.

  “Now you wait just a minute—”

  “I seem to be the only one getting results, and I don’t need either of you to do so.” Jade pushed back from the table. “Lads!”

  The doors opened, illuminating the windowless room with bright lighting from the hallway. Six identically dressed young men entered, faces partially hidden by the bills of their caps. Quickly and efficiently, Diamond and Pearl were lifted from their chairs and had their hands bound while they sputtered in protest.

  “Your service to your country has been noted,” Jade sneered, “but your methods are no longer necessary. Thank you for inviting me into your secret society. It’s been very interesting to see how the rich and elite have gotten things done over the years. But personally, I prefer my way.”

  He allowed their masks to stay on a while longer. He didn’t care about their true identities anymore, having already made sure the playing field was leveled. Whether Diamond was a man of import like Pearl, the Director of the Intelligence Service, or like Jade himself, just a bastard fisherman, was of little consequence.

  “Look at it this way, gents. Even if Amber and Sapphire decide to confess during their fe
w remaining days on this earth, your legacy is secure. There will be nothing for anyone to find. The Hand of the Reaper is no more.”

  With that, Jade ripped off his stifling mask. Zann Biddel was done hiding. There was no reason to play in the shadows anymore.

  The grol queen was still alive, but soon it wouldn’t matter. There wouldn’t be any grols left in Elsira to destroy his country. He would make sure of that. And once the witches and their dangerous magic were safely ensconced in a place far away, then he would target the elites. The ones in their ivory towers who had kept down the working men for so long.

  Like Pearl and Diamond here—even their code names told of wealth and disregard for the backs on which such treasure was found.

  “Elsira for Elsirans” was the motto, but more than that, Zann wanted an Elsira for those who had worked so hard for everything they built.

  The time for secrets was over.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Tales of her travels overtook the land, and the route she had trod became sacred. The branches of the tree, so long divided, grew intertwined once more, thick and strong the way we all had hoped they would be.

  —THE AYALYA

  Tai adjusted the cravat strangling his neck. Mainland formal wear rivaled any torture he’d ever heard of. He smirked to find Darvyn pulling at a scrap of silk that was choking him, as well. The frustration on the other man’s face mirrored his own.

  Kyara stood by Darvyn’s side, arrayed in a simple white gown borrowed from Lizvette. It was elegant yet understated. Kyara’s limbs were stiff, and she ran the smooth silk of the skirt between her fingers nervously. The three of them were equally uncomfortable in Elsiran finery.

  They had all been called to the throne room again this afternoon after the bewildering events of the morning’s thwarted execution, with the only instruction being to dress formally. Tai was to set sail as soon as he was done here. He believed he could talk his mother out of sentencing him to prison, though every day away from Lizvette would feel like captivity on its own.