Dream of Darkness and Dominion

by Hilary Thompson

  No matter.

  Jyesh had shifter magic and the attention of some critical people.

  “You have no right to brief our court on the battle that just ensued,” the General continued. He’d lowered his voice, though, as more of the crowd had begun to listen intently.

  Jyesh offered a cruel smile. “And do you regularly keep secrets from your people? Secrets that could affect their own safety?” His voice rose enough to reach the edges of the crowd. The people would whisper it much farther.

  The General’s eyes simmered with rage, and Jyesh idly wondered if this man would cut him down before all these people. He smirked. No, he didn’t think the General would do anything to him.

  “You’ll do as I like, because my sister would never wish to see me hurt,” Jyesh murmured. “And you care very much what my sister wishes, don’t you?”

  The man blanched before hardening his glare, but Jyesh had all the information he needed.

  “Good people of Riata!” he called, harnessing their attention easily. “I do not ask your decision now - only the grace of your consideration. I wish to help your country as well. Please, seek me out if you wish to discuss my intentions further. My methods and goals may not align precisely with Corentine’s, but I know many here do not think splitting your country into pieces is the best answer.”

  Jyesh’s words dropped like lightning into the crowd, and as he pivoted, his cloak swirling behind him, he could hear the thunder of the Lords and Ladies yelling questions to the General. Jyesh smiled, exiting to the side, just where the General had entered. He had no idea where he was going, but neither did he care.

  He’d stirred the storm. Now, he just had to ride the waves. Alone, Jyesh slowed his pace and wandered leisurely through the vast, endless halls of StarsHelm, imagining he was already King of such opulence.

  COREN HAD SCRUBBED away the grime of battle and filled the tub a second time. But now the water had cooled again, her body felt healed enough, and she knew she must face whatever came next.

  She had a good idea what that was, too - Jyesh.

  She barely knew him now, but it was clear he wanted a good share of power and a much lesser portion of responsibility.

  It was doubtful he could handle either well, but she prayed to the Magi he could be healed. Even as a boy, Jyesh had rarely been carefree. But she didn’t remember him being cruel or spoiled, either. Mara had done that.

  And Coren had no idea how to undo it. They would have to be more vigilant.

  A gentle knock sounded at the door, and she quickly wrapped her body with an enormous towel.

  “It’s Giddon.” The voice was muffled and quiet. “I have clothing here and food waiting.”

  “Come in.” She met the little man with a grin.

  “It’s not fancy, but it’s clean.” He laid a stack of what looked like soldier’s clothing on the chair next to the tub.

  “Fancy means nothing to me.” Coren shrugged. “I prefer loose pants and simple tunics.”

  “Wait until you see your coronation gown.” He giggled.

  “Coronation?” She raised an eyebrow. “Has a decision been made while I was killing witches?”

  “More people want to see you on the throne than otherwise. Too many of us have prayed for something just like this, Corentine. Too many,” he repeated softly, casting his eyes to the floor. “I’ll leave you to dress.”

  He hurried out the door, and Coren’s heart tugged along with him. She didn’t know much of his story, but it seemed cruelty had touched nearly everyone in this kingdom. Riatans weren’t her people, and they never would be. But they still needed someone to help them, and it would be wrong not to try.

  And by helping Riata, she could help her own people: She hadn’t forgotten the hundreds of Weshen prisoners Kashar had cared for barely a week ago. If any were left from Mara’s barbaric use of them in Rurok, Coren would make sure they were set free immediately and given safe passage home.

  Regardless of the court’s decision on her right to rule, she was not leaving the palace without those people.

  “There you are,” Resh said as she entered the bedroom and settled on the floor with them. He offered her a smile and a plate heaped with food. Sy handed her a tall glass of lemondrine tonic, and she gulped it down, relishing the sense of calm and strength filtering through her. Giddon’s medicine had soothed the Vespa inside, and it was healing well, stretching its wings in the cavity of her mind. She’d need to fly soon to rebuild strength.

  “Giddon says he’s been gauging reception of you, and it’s nearly all good,” Sy said.

  “Especially since you’ve saved them from a Brujok attack,” Giddon added.

  “The Brujok wouldn’t have attacked if Mara were here, though,” Coren said. “Some will likely point that out.”

  The door cracked just enough to admit Dain, and his eyes narrowed at her comment. “Your brother has just pointed that out for everyone.”

  Coren’s stomach churned, and she wished she’d eaten slower. “What has he done?”

  “While you were recovering, he cornered a mass of frightened Lords and Ladies, filling their heads with nonsense about how he can protect Riata better than you. He even insinuated that you brought the fight here.”

  “Coward,” Resh snarled, already halfway to the door. Coren jumped up to catch his arm, her plate falling to the floor.

  “I’ll speak with him,” she said, staring him down. “And the court,” she said to Dain. “I need to assure them, don’t I?”

  He smiled. “I’ve spoken to them, and so has General Noshaya. They know Cusslen is interrogating the captive witches and Harben is working with the wounded.”

  “Thank you. Still, I think I need to be seen and heard,” Coren said, her decision made. “Where is Jyesh now?”

  “In the room directly across from this. I have four soldiers there, but I took the liberty...” Dain paused.

  “Of running him through with a sword?” Resh suggested.

  Coren glared. “For that, you can have the floor tonight, and Sy can join me on the bed.”

  Sy burst into laughter, and Dain’s brows drew into his hair. But Resh only shrugged and went back to eating.

  “I asked Lord Gernant for a sleeping powder,” Dain admitted.

  Resh smirked at Coren. “We think alike, General.”

  Coren sighed. “At some point, we need to figure out a way to deal with him when he’s conscious. I brought him with us to rescue him from Mara, not put him in another cage.”

  The men quieted at her words.

  “He needs a task,” Resh said, breaking the tension. “Ask him for advice. Perhaps on how to command a crowd, or dress for power.”

  Coren looked down at her plain clothing. “I’d rather ask one of you.”

  “That’s not the point,” Sy said, leaning forward. “He needs a purpose, so give him one.”

  She considered. Advising her wouldn’t be enough, but it was a start.

  “And I’ll be sure to tell you if he picks a disastrous outfit,” Resh teased.

  A knock sounded, making them all jump.

  Dain opened it enough to slide back out, refusing admittance to whoever was waiting. Several minutes passed before the door opened again and Dain entered, carrying a large white box under his arm. An older man followed him.

  “Corentine, this is Desh Crentosh. He’s a retired Commander. A Weshen,” Dain added, and all the eyes in the room snapped to the hunched man.

  Crentosh bowed even farther. “My Queen,” he said, straightening.

  Coren startled at the preemptive title. “Please, call me Corentine.”

  The battle-hardened man nodded and stepped toward her, moving with dignity. A slight limp slowed him. He let his eyes examine her face, running over every feature as if in a daze.

  “Just like her,” he muttered to himself.

  “Excuse me?” Coren asked.

  His eyes flashed with guilt. “Pardon me, your Grace. You look so much like your gran
dmother. Commander Ashaden. Lorental,” he added, as though she might have many grandmothers with that title.

  “I do?” she whispered.

  Crentosh nodded. “I knew her very well. She was a great soldier and a better friend.” His voice had dropped, and Coren suddenly wondered just how close this man had been to Lorental. Had he known her mother Sorenta, too? “When she decided to flee the palace, she left this with me.” He gestured to where Dain had placed the box on the bed.

  Crentosh slid the box open and yellowed paper fluttered away, revealing a folded suit of exquisite leather armor, stained blue as the summer sky. He held it up for her to see.

  “Blue?” Coren marveled, running a finger over the leather feathers covering the shoulders. She tried to imagine the woman who had worn this to battle other countries, possessed Vespa shifting like her own, and loved Zorander Graeme enough to create a child with him.

  It was nearly impossible.

  Commander Crentosh spread the armor on the blanket. “With this blue armor, she was invisible in the sky. Nothing but a shadow above, until her wings clouted her enemies to the grave.” He chuckled a bit, shaking his head at the memories.

  “I’m sorry you lost her,” Coren said. He startled and focused his eyes on her again.

  “Many of us cared for her,” he admitted. “She only had eyes for the young prince, though. The rest of us were but brothers to her. Brothers she trounced on a daily basis,” he allowed, grinning past the sadness tracing the lines of his face.

  “I wish I’d known her.”

  He gestured to the armor. “This will help. I hear you have her wings, too.”

  Coren grinned. Tentatively, she allowed her Vespa wings to shift into being, stretching across the space behind her. The healing wing screamed at the motion but soon settled into a healthy ache. The Commander’s eyes shone.

  “Wear it?” He motioned toward the armor. “Wear it when you take the crown?”

  Coren stretched a hand to him. He clasped it warmly, eyes still lingering on her glistening wings.

  “When the people make their decision, if they wish me to be Queen, I can think of no better coronation outfit,” she said honestly. She smiled at the thought of herself, clad not in a poof of silk and dozens of layers, but in leather the color of the summer sky, feathers trailing the ground behind her as she walked the aisle to take the crown.

  She may not want the crown, but taking it wearing this would make the burden just a little lighter. It was a small thing, but it made the decision a little more hers.

  “The people will wish you to be Queen,” Dain said, interrupting her vision, and everyone in the room nodded with him.

  “Thank you,” she said, uncomfortable beneath the old Commander’s misty gaze. He stared at her as though he were remembering another time and another woman before him. Then he bowed again and turned to make his way slowly and proudly out of the room.

  Just as he stepped out, Coren called, “The people beyond the court - are they glad I’m here?”

  Crentosh’s eyes grew round, and he glanced around them, his gaze resting on Dain for several seconds. Then he turned back to her, nodding. “The people of Riata need you, my young Queen. More than you could possibly understand yet.”

  The door clicked shut behind him, and Coren clutched the armor. She’d been taught that nothing was small when it was against her will, and she still believed that. But it turned out her will wasn’t always as important as she’d thought.

  “This is perfect,” Giddon murmured, running his palm over the armor. “You need to look amazing, but also different, just as you are. You’re going to be like no Queen Riata has ever seen. Now, you sort things out here with your General and your handsome Weshen soldiers, and I’ll begin spreading the word of your great deeds. Trust me, darling.” He smiled, and Coren found her heart warming. For once, she didn’t mind giving her trust.

  He slipped out the door, and three pairs of eyes turned back to her. Their faces were open and expectant.

  “What?” she asked, suddenly nervous again. “Surely, you three don’t believe I’m ready for this.”

  Sy and Resh glanced at each other, and the single look eased her incredulity.

  Resh said, “Of course not. How could you possibly be ready? You’ve lived most of your life fooling around on a tiny island, hunting nothing more than rockrabbits and avoiding normal conversation.”

  She bristled a bit, and a sly smile crept onto his face. Her cheeks flushed as she realized she’d been outed.

  “Guess I need an adviser. I’ll go find Jyesh,” she shot back, and he laughed. “We do have so much to plan, though,” she said, turning to Dain. “Mara’s return. Jyesh. And Penna and Kosh,” she added, looking at Sy. “I have to know they’re safe. Surely, we can find some way to send a message.” She paused, remembering the note Maren had once sent her, using nothing more than a leaf and a spell. Someone here must know that magic. “And I want to know what Weshen we still have here in the palace. I want all of them freed,” she finished, knowing this would probably be her most-resisted request.

  “We will work on all of that, but one task at a time,” Dain said.

  “But the court first,” she reminded him. “We should all go. I’ll introduce Sy and Resh and explain what happened at the docks. But I don’t want to answer questions.”

  “Agreed,” Dain said, his mouth pulling up into a smile. “Finish your meal, and I’ll come get you when they’re assembled.”

  Chapter 12

  “BUT WE ALWAYS SEND our dead on the MagiSea,” Amden protested. The group was in the main entryway of the General’s mansion, sitting on the clean-swept floor as they ate some of the fresh yogurt and honey they’d packed from the island. Most of the supplies they’d found needed to be cooked, and none of them wanted to waste the time.

  Nik sighed. He’d feared as much. “Yes, but how would we ever get so many bodies down all those steps? The lift to the sea is burned beyond use.” Building something new would take three times as many days as he’d promised Behrenna if they could even manage it. And they could never carry all those bodies.

  “That’s true,” Lorenya admitted. She glanced at Amden, then around at the other women. “We came here to put the men to rest, but isn’t it also our job to make the city habitable again? We want more to come from the island. Won’t our time be better spent digging graves than building something new to transport all these bodies down a cliff?”

  Slowly, the others began to nod. Nik fidgeted with his spoon.

  Amden huffed. “But it seems disrespectful to bury them. Can we at least prepare a large pyre here, then scatter the ashes on the sea?”

  “Can you bear the smell of so many burning bodies?” Nik asked, his voice low. He’d borne it, once. He also had no wish to ever experience it again.

  “The sandjasmine we wrap the bodies in burns sweet, and the sea breeze carries away everything else,” Menaya said.

  “There’s no sandjasmine up here,” answered one of the twins. “It’s all down on the shore.”

  “And little sea breeze this high up,” added the other.

  Nik had yet to catch their names, and he thought if he asked now, it would be awkward.

  “Amden, maybe we can send a symbolic pyre. Cut a piece of cloth from each man’s tunic, or a weapon, and take them down to the sea at once,” Kellen offered.

  Amden considered her friend’s idea and then nodded. “All right. That seems better.”

  Nik felt some relief that the decision was made. “Here,” he said, producing a sack of gloves he’d gathered from the mansion’s many closets that morning when most had been sleeping. He’d also cut one of Sy’s wool cloaks into long strips. “You’ll want to wrap these around your nose and mouth. For the smell,” he added, and everyone grimaced. Rotting flesh would be nearly as bad as burning flesh, but at least now they only needed to experience one.

  “This will be macabre work,” Lorenya said, standing. “But remember - we do it for t
he past Weshen has endured and the future we will build. The Restless King and Riata will never have our city.”

  Murmuring their agreement, the women donned the wraps and gloves, squaring their shoulders for the task ahead.

  “I think it will be easiest if we shift away channels of earth, then roll the bodies in and cover them. I can do much of it, but you should all practice your magic as best you can.” Nik felt a bit sacrilegious at turning this into a lesson, but the women needed to see the practical applications of their magic.

  “And if you see any live Riatans, roll them into the earth as well,” Amden said, her voice muffled from the cloth yet still sharp.

  Nik nodded. Their power was both tool and weapon.

  He followed Amden out the door, the others behind. It wasn’t many steps until they found their first fallen Weshen. Nik shifted the earth away, showing them how to shift the earth from under the body, allowing it to fall into a makeshift grave. Lorenya used her magic to close the rift.

  Working in pairs, the women scattered and moved down the path, following Nik’s simple plan. Amden carried the empty sack from the gloves, and Nik watched for a few seconds as she worked to cut away a bit of cloth from a body, her eyes hardened against the enormity of what they were doing.

  It was nearly noon when everyone began to slow to an agonizing pace.

  “I have nothing left,” Menaya huffed. “I can barely walk, much less shift.”

  “We should go back to the mansion,” Lorenya agreed. “We can eat and drink our lemondrine tonic. Perhaps after a rest, we might return.”

  “We’ve done so little,” Kellen despaired, looking behind her at the mounds of disturbed earth, then before them at the vast sprawl of the city. They hadn’t even left the first circle.

  “We’re doing all we can,” one of the twins said, pulling off her gloves to rest a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

  Still, Kellen slumped into a raw sob, scrubbing at her face with the wrap.

  “It’s been a rough morning. Let’s not be too hard on ourselves,” Lorenya cautioned. “None of us are used to seeing anything like this.”