“Is this your book, then? Not Mara’s?” Coren guessed, but the spirit didn’t move. The pages began to ruffle like a breeze moved them, falling open to a blank page at the beginning. Or, no. Not blank, Coren realized.
Symbols began to float to the surface again, and this time, Coren read them easily.
“Queen,” she whispered, as the word formed before her on the page. The spirit repeated the word after her, over and again, the singsong chant filling Coren’s ears. Her fear had vanished, replaced with a keen curiosity about this spirit.
Coren flipped the page, and a column of numbers appeared, like a list of the book’s contents. Her brain accepted the string of symbols, letters, and pictures as both unreadable and understandable. It was like when Coren caught a look from Resh that she’d never seen before, but which carried meaning she understood somewhere deep in herself.
One of the entries, mid-way down the page, began to shimmer with yellow tendrils, and Coren startled as she realized the spirit had moved close enough to brush herself through the book. The woman couldn’t point, exactly, but Coren peered closer at the number. She flipped the pages, looking for the matching symbol.
Several symbols appeared when she found the right page, and as she stared at them, her lips began to sound the syllables without effort. She paused. She shouldn’t be casting an unfamiliar spell, regardless how pleasant this spirit seemed.
But when she stopped, the woman faded, and Coren felt a deep sadness. She tried a few more words, and the spirit became more solid. Coren debated, finally deciding her curiosity was larger than her worry. She wanted to know why this spirit had sought her out. She wanted to know the old woman’s secrets and ask her questions about Mara.
She knew from Sy’s experience that this could be dangerous, but something about the book was different.
Ferula.
The word formed in her brain, or on the page, or between her lips. Coren wasn’t certain which came first.
Ferula!
It was more insistent now, and Coren rolled the unfamiliar sounds on her tongue. “Ferula? Is that a name?” she guessed, her voice trembling. The misty, shapeless head seemed to nod. “Your name?”
The guess excited the spirit, and it gathered substance, growing even more solid before her. Her eyes still glowed like hot coals, but Coren could see a bundle of iron gray hair, thin lips, a simple dress and cloak covering the hunched form. A twisted finger reached toward her, and instead of jumping back like she wanted to, Coren watched as the finger traced the symbols on the journal page.
“Ferula,” she repeated, then read the complete spell aloud, her voice more fluent this time. With each vowel and consonant, the vision before her became more woman and less spirit. “Again?” she asked, and Ferula nodded vigorously. “What will you do if I refuse?”
The woman’s face told her all she needed to know. Greater fear and despair than Coren had ever seen on a living face twisted Ferula’s features. Coren knew in her heart that this woman, whoever she was, was not planning to hurt her. She bent her head to the book and read the lines again and again, more rapidly each time.
Soon, she had the words memorized, and Ferula stood before her, smiling and nearly solid, though Coren still couldn’t grasp at the woman’s sources. So, she was certainly still a spirit.
“Who are you?” Coren murmured, staring at Ferula.
The cracked lips opened and shut many times before a sound escaped them. “Nurse,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. “Nurse,” she repeated, the muscles of her throat working to push the word out.
“Whose nurse? Mara’s?” Coren guessed.
Fear pulsed through Ferula’s gaze, and she flickered nearly back into nothingness.
Behind them, Sy muttered something in his sleep, and Coren snapped the book shut in reflex. When she looked up again, nothing was left of Ferula except a fading golden glow in the corner. Coren stepped closer, but it vanished like a candle losing its wick in the heat of the wax.
There was nothing left of the odd little spirit except Coren’s awoken curiosity. “Whoever you are, I’ll find you again.”
The promise sounded dreamlike in the gray-blue morning light of the quiet room, and Coren almost took it back. But something tugged toward certainty. Whoever Ferula was, her secrets were important.
Coren promised herself she’d tell Resh and Sy everything soon, and together they’d work to figure out this new mystery, along with all the others piling upe. She felt suddenly exhausted, her brain heavy with fog.
She would call Ferula again, but first, she needed a bit more sleep to survive the coming day and her coronation as queen of this crooked kingdom.
WHEN RESH STRETCHED in the late morning light and opened his eyes, he was surprised to see Coren curled on the floor, just beyond his reach. She lay near the window, her hair glinting in a pool of sunshine like she slept on the seabed, beneath the clearest waters of Weshen Isle.
“Coren?” he whispered, crawling toward her. Her hands were tucked beneath her cheek like a pillow, and her breath was steady and even. Glancing back to Sy’s still form on the bed, he risked a kiss on her cheek. She nuzzled against his lips but then settled. He dropped another soft kiss on her jaw, then the exposed column of her neck, and finally, the bare shoulder just at the edge of her gown.
A soft sigh escaped her lips, and her eyes fluttered open, focusing slowly on his. Her lips turned up at the corners in a sleepy smile, and by the Magi, Resh wanted to flip her beneath him and kiss her until her body took over her mind’s inhibitions.
He settled for grazing her jaw with his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to her smile. “Hello, my Queen,” he whispered.
Her cheeks flushed, and a spark entered her eyes, sweeping away the sleepiness. “I don’t need to be your Queen,” she said.
“You can be my Queen with or without a crown,” he returned, grinning.
“If only wearing the crown would give me enough strength and knowledge.” Her eyes lowered, and she sat half-turned from him. Her hair swung forward, hiding her face, and Resh smoothed some of it back, his fingers resting on her neck.
“It’s not all on your shoulders. You have me, you have Sy, you have Watersend. And I’m certain many others. We’ll do it together,” he assured her, slipping a finger beneath her chin and gently turning her back to him. His hand slid down her side, coming to rest at the curve of her hip.
She reached to adjust the skirt of her sleep tunic, and Resh bit back a sigh at her stubborn self-consciousness.
But then he noticed an odd lump in her pocket. She was hiding something.
Before he could decide if this bothered him, or even if he should ask about it, she kissed him full on the mouth. Resh fell into the sensation of her body pressed against his, enjoying the surprise for what it was, but a tiny corner of his mind pulsed with the realization that Coren was kissing him like this to distract him from something.
He had never believed her capable of such a ruse, and this bothered him much more than the trick itself.
Sy rustled the sheets behind them, and they broke apart. Coren stood quickly enough that she teetered off balance for a second. Resh rose smoothly beside her, slipping a hand to her back to steady her.
Their eyes met for a long moment before Coren nodded curtly. “It’s time, then.” She turned to the low table where the box of Lorental’s sky-blue armor still rested and lifted the lid. “I’ll wear this, and perhaps my grandmother’s spirit will be with me today.”
Resh saw an odd glint in her eyes, and he noticed again how her fingers strayed to cover the pocket of her tunic. Whatever was bothering her, she seemed to push the feeling away as she lifted the chest plate, shaking it out before her and admiring the intricately-cut leather feathers sewn at each shoulder.
Resh hoped she would choose to trust him with whatever she was keeping secret.
Chapter 16
ALONE IN THE BATHING room, Coren fastened the last buckle on the blue leather armor. It fit
snugly over the pale tunic and sleek breeches Giddon had dropped off.
The supple leather was backed with the tiniest links of chain mail, lightweight but strong. It reached from mid-thigh, up around her waist and torso, and capped the rounds of each shoulder. Stiff bracers slipped over her calves and forearms, and Coren realized this was true battle armor, meant to withstand the attack of sword and arrow.
Stiff feathers, leather bonded over slim steel, surrounded the neckline in a protective ruff that was higher in back, then draped down across her heart and dripped from her shoulders. The feathers were beautifully made and symbolic of the Vespa form, but Coren guessed they would guard her human body well.
Slits in the back of the armor were placed perfectly for her wings, and although she’d been told her partial shifting was unique, it was obvious that Lorental had managed the same trick of keeping her human body and Vespa wings. They had lost so much knowledge over the years, it was a marvel anyone knew anything.
Coren shifted only her wings into being, though the space was cramped.
Eyeing herself in the tall, narrow glass, she felt powerful. Beautiful, too, she admitted, although she shied away from the idea. Beauty had never been something she’d aspired to, but Resh and Jyesh were teaching her how it could be useful - even a shield or a weapon.
Coren also knew she didn’t look like a queen, but that was part of her plan. A vital piece of keeping herself separated from what was happening. And she enjoyed the symbolism. Her reign, however brief or muddled it turned out, would be different from anything Riata had ever seen.
Perhaps if Lorental had been able to marry Graeme and become Queen instead of Mara, Weshen and the rest of the world would now be flourishing, instead of poised on the brink of war. Coren imagined such a world, praying it wasn’t too late to turn back the wheels of war. The thought gave her peace as well as restless energy to create such a future.
The Vespa inside her rustled, responding to her call for power.
Not yet, she whispered to it. Soon. She shifted the wings away again, imagining folding the feathers along her spine, tucked beneath the sources of her skin.
Soon, she promised herself, all of StarsHelm would see the power she possessed. Before the week was out, vast changes would be made to the country of Riata. She wished the vote had been more completely on her side; there would be a lot of opposition to some of her plans, and it wouldn’t only come from Jyesh. General Cusslen worried her the most.
But there would be time for strategy later. Now, she needed to make Resh proud and put on a show.
“I’m ready,” she announced, stepping into the room where Resh and Sy waited.
Her cheeks grew hot beneath each of their gazes, but for very different reasons. Sy gazed at her with the pride of an older brother, making her real brother’s apathy toward her even more of a twist in her heart. Resh, of course, gazed in appreciation at how the armor and breeches revealed her figure and at the bold confidence in her walk.
“You’re stunning,” Resh said, stepping toward her, “And don’t worry. Whatever this country throws at us, we’ll manage it together. You’re not alone in this, Coren.”
The words were the same he’d spoken earlier, and she believed them, but they still did little for her nerves.
“I’ll be sure to make good on that,” she said, forcing a smile that felt more like bared teeth. Resh winked at her and offered his arm, but she shook her head. “I’ll walk alone, please.”
His eyes narrowed for the tiniest moment, but his face swiftly smoothed into agreement. “Of course. Show your strength.”
They opened the bedroom door and found a dozen soldiers ready to escort them. Jyesh swept out of his room to join them, but he barely looked at her.
The guards led them through the halls to a side door in the palace that opened onto a lush garden that seemed as wide as the MagiSea. As far as Coren could see, crowds had gathered to watch the coronation. She’d never seen so many people in all her life.
“Do all of them live in StarsHelm?” she whispered to a guard. She glanced about for any familiar faces.
“Most,” the guard answered. “A few have traveled from nearby, I’m sure, but the news hasn’t had time to spread throughout Riata. General Watersend told us you’ll be receiving nobility from the EstenSands and WestenSands for weeks,” he added.
Coren bit down on a curse. Of course she would. Because there was nothing at all more pressing than sitting on a throne and offering her fingers to be kissed. She needed to have a talk with her Generals about how to better manage her time. She wasn’t here to make nice with nobles. Actually, she needed to have a talk with them about keeping her informed.
She trusted Dain to keep her safe, but she wouldn’t become anyone’s pawn.
They walked several minutes along the edge of the boisterous crowd, mostly hidden by a hedge of the same green-black vines that made up the palace maze. Just when Coren began to worry she’d have to walk the entire length of the crowd twice, the arrived at a gap in the hedge, which lead to a black stone walkway sparkling with crystals. Beyond that, the crowd waited.
She turned back. Guards flanked her on both sides and behind. Jyesh was also surrounded by Riatan burgundy. At the back, she glimpsed Sy and Resh, but she wasn’t sure how far they’d be able to process.
The people grew quiet when she stepped into view, and Coren felt her palms grow slick with sweat.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to walk. The marble path sliced the standing crowd into quarters, and as she neared its end, she came upon a crossroads.
To her left was the mass of StarsHelm citizens, many dressed in work clothes, but all staring in open curiosity. Many of their sun-darkened faces were wary. Coren knew that no matter what they’d been told, she’d have to work to earn their trust.
Beyond them, the land called to her like home, though it looked nothing like the island. She scanned the deep shadows of the forest, then the bright greens and soft browns of rolling pastures and farmland. The peaceful quiet looked so much better than what waited to her right.
She turned, resigned, toward the palace, and the guards formed around her. The palace loomed before her, glittering white, its spires and turrets stretching into the blue sky. The vibrant colors of the Ladies’ gowns and the Lords’ tunics and the glint of jewels and weapons contrasted sharply with the plainly-dressed people now at her back.
The entirety of StarsHelm watched her, pressed together in the open courtyard before the columned pavilion. She glanced to the sky, wishing for the silence of the clouds.
True silence, not like the whispery, gossiping hush that had gathered over the crowd now.
Coren did not want to walk the gauntlet of that human corridor, but she felt Jyesh draw closer, urging her forward with a hissed whisper. She began the slow procession to the palace.
For dozens of rows, the four armies of Riata flanked the walkway, many people deep. Behind the parade-dressed soldiers, the ground sloped upward and formed itself into shallow benches that faced the narrow black aisle. Seated Lords and Ladies watched her from just above her head, whispering to each other, and Coren felt very much like a trapped animal on display.
She chafed against the thought of those thousands of eyes judging every step, weighing her choice to wear armor instead of a gown, wondering why she glinted with weapons and not jewelry.
Coren had vowed to be a very different sort of Queen, but she wanted her differences to manifest on her terms. She hadn’t been consulted on any of this. It wasn’t exactly against her will, but it wasn’t her choice, either. Before she could analyze the implications, and before anyone could sense what she was about to do and stop her, Coren closed her eyes and took a quick, calming breath.
Hello, Vespa, she whispered in her mind. The creature cooed back at her, seeming to understand that this was not a time of bloody battle, but one of intimidation.
Four enormous wings floated lazily from her spine, her sources shifting as smooth
ly as breathing. The people’s gasps rippled out from her, and finally, Coren enjoyed the attention. She even shifted her hands into golden talons.
These people, all of them, should know what she had done to the Brujok. They should know what she could do to any enemy, even one within the palace. They should know that despite her brother walking behind her as the new First Son, she was the one in charge.
StarsHelm, and soon all of Riata, and then the world, would reverberate with the news of the Vespa Queen from Weshen who now controlled the greatest nation in the land. She beat her wings carefully, the feathers barely brushing the men in the front line of soldiers.
Looking back to catch Resh’s eye, she grinned and rose into the air with grace, hovering above the crowds as the warm, early-autumn air caressed her muscles and rippled her feathers.
She beat her four wings again, rising high enough that the entire courtyard should be able to see her. Her hair blew free from its braids, and she somersaulted on the currents. She rose higher still, circling over each corner of the gathered crowd.
Tucking her wings in tightly, she rolled and swooped, then cruised along the air currents, showing off the ease of her flight. She felt like laughing, and so she did. Laughter bubbled up from her lungs and down onto the people as she rose higher and higher, touching the clouds above, then shooting through them.
And then she was alone, safe in the pure silence of the clouds.
Coren felt the magic pulsing in her blood. The source of her shifter powers mingled with the Vespa magic and the Sulit strength from the lemondrine tonic she’d drunk with breakfast.
Here, above the entire world, Coren realized that’s how her battles would be won.
She would use the magic of all the lands to free them from each other’s dominion.
Sulit spells would untwist Riata’s alchemy. Weshen magic would shift and balance the darkness and light of both.
The world could be healed, and she could be the catalyst. Protecting her family was still most important, but there were bigger things at work here, and she opened her heart to the Mirror Magi.
Dream of Darkness and Dominion Page 15
