Dream of Darkness and Dominion

by Hilary Thompson

  Sy opened his eyes in time to see the paper roll itself tightly into a scroll and sail out the cracked door like an arrow on the wind.

  “Thank you, Giddon.”

  The little man nodded. “Now, go make good on all your promises. Break that curse, and hold Coren to her pledge to help Riata, not just Weshen.”

  Chapter 20

  COREN ROSE STIFFLY from her throne, her fingers kneading deep into the muscles on her spine. She had done something good here - she knew it.

  Many men would go home to Weshen, and many Wesh would be free to choose a new home. She had sent Resh with Dain to try and accommodate them somewhere on palace grounds until they could be organized to leave for Weshen City. Somewhere that wasn’t a cell.

  Coren hoped she’d drawn a line on how Riatan prisons would work from now on. She also felt she had kept a balance between people who were freed and people who seemed to have done something legitimately illegal.

  “I want the process begun to fully document every prisoner in StarsHelm,” she called to one of the Lords who had been called in to help produce reports on the Wesh. He nodded, eyes wide. She guessed it was an enormous task, but it needed to be done. She couldn’t free dangerous criminals, no matter what their race.

  But neither would she support a system that kept people in cells because of the color of their skin.

  “Your Majesty.”

  She turned to the side of the dais, surprised to see Lord Gernant back so soon. “Yes?”

  “Majesty, I have information to give you from one of the Brujok captured in the docks attack.”

  Coren cocked her head. “Already? Do you trust it?” Resh had never trusted witches.

  Gernant lifted a shoulder. “Enough to relay the information to you, Majesty. The witch confessed that Mara is indeed on the run in Sulit. However, she is not near Rurok, nor with the Brujok, but traveling only with Lord Aram, heading south.”

  “South!” A shot of adrenaline coursed through Coren. StarSeer had taken Kashar and the twins south. If Mara found them... “What is she planning?”

  “We did not get that information. But we do know from both of the captured witches that the Brujok intend to attack their southern sisters again. Their civil war may have been instigated or aided by Mara, but it is far from over.”

  Coren considered, wondering how much the witch had told them and if Gernant was holding anything back or interpreting the bits in his favor. “What do you make of this?” she asked Noshaya, who had stepped closer to listen. “Why would the witch confess these things? What does it matter to Riata?”

  The woman nodded to her, and she saw a glint of respect in her eyes. “I would guess she was desperate to give information to save her life, Your Grace. She had already watched her sisters die, some by your hand, and some by ours.”

  Coren gritted her teeth to stop trembling. They needed this information but not at such cost. She couldn’t condone torture, no matter what was common in Riata. “Does she still live?”

  “I am sorry, but she does not,” Gernant said, not sounding sorry at all.

  Coren didn’t even look at him. She knew he was the premier alchemist in the palace. Kashar had told her what he knew of the gruesome experiments performed in the name of this man-made magic, and she suspected this smooth-smiling Lord before her had few qualms about torture, whether it be witches or Wesh.

  “What does a Sulit civil war mean for Riata?” Coren continued, pushing these thoughts away. Dain had mentioned book learning, and she knew she needed it, but for now, she had an idea to test.

  Noshaya nodded, her face grim. “If the Brujok overtake the southern Sulit, their entire country will be militarized. I believe they would not hesitate to turn their fight to Riata. Mara worked closely with the Brujok, and those staying here in the palace considered StarsHelm part of their current and future holdings. Your ascendance to the throne certainly threatens that.”

  “They will attack StarsHelm,” Coren finished, summing her thoughts.

  “I’m certain of it, Your Majesty.”

  “Will they win against the southern witches?” she asked.

  Both nodded without hesitation. Coren had assumed as much after watching the devastation of the battle in Rurok. The southern witches had powerful magic, but they were gentle at heart and unused to fighting. The Brujok, however, had trained themselves as well as Riata’s troops.

  “This is not an issue we can ignore, then. General Noshaya, please gather the other Generals and have all your strategies ready in three hours. We’ll have tea here in the throne room.” Presenting her hand to the General, she turned it to shake, rather than be kissed. “General, I don’t know much of court protocol. I apologize if I offend. But I do pledge to protect the Riata’s innocents.”

  She slid her eyes to Gernant, wanting him to know her distaste for his practices.

  “You will need much advice, Majesty, and we will freely give it to you,” Gernant said, his eyes narrowing as his smile widened falsely. Coren was reminded of a snakka, watching her from the grass.

  “I don’t doubt it for a moment,” she answered. She could play the intimidation game, too. She shifted her eyes alone into the vertical pupils of a Vespa.

  A bird in the sky could always best a snakka on the ground.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I intend to continue my training on the fields. I am no idle Queen.”

  The General gave her a genuine smile and bowed, hurrying away in the opposite direction from Gernant’s haughty strides. Coren sighed, pivoting and finding Dain walking toward her, a questioning look on his face.

  She quickly related the news to him as they exited the throne room. “I know I need to make time to sit and memorize maps and read your history books. But I need to run more than ever now,” she begged, and Dain turned them sharply into a corner door that led to a spiral stair. The stairs bottomed out at a door leading directly to the gardens, and Coren breathed in deeply as the fresh air hit her.

  “I’m not used to being indoors so much,” she confessed.

  They broke into a light jog, and as they entered the flat grass of the training grounds, she heard Dain shout to a few of his soldiers. Soon, a herd of men and women were running with her, some gaining ground and passing her, others staying near her side, and many behind.

  Dain stayed at her left, grinning as he matched her pace.

  Coren pushed herself as they left the level ground and entered the rougher land surrounding the forest. She leaped over small ridges in the field, reveling in the wind in her hair again.

  It certainly wasn’t the salt air and sandy grasses of Weshen Isle, but it felt wonderful. She felt strong and more sure-footed on the grass. It didn’t slip around as much as sand or the marble of the palace floors. Coren knew she’d gained muscle from her summer of climbing mountains and hiking and shifting into her Vespa form.

  She laughed into the wind, shifting a seam apart along her back and allowing her Vespa wings to spring forth. She hurtled her body across a stream, but instead of landing on the far bank, she shot into the air and circled the troops, coasting on the crisp, early-fall air.

  As she let the air currents caress her feathers, she thought of the danger facing southern Sulit. Not just her own family and StarSeer, but all the beauty of Sulit and its history and natural magic. So much was at stake.

  She hoped the Generals would bring her solid plans this afternoon, but she already knew she wanted to take troops south, into the woods of Sulit at the base of New Moon Falls. Coren wanted to help the southern witches survive the Brujok. Something in her own heart told her the world would not survive their loss.

  An unrecoverable treasure would be gone - the balance of the land destroyed just as it would have been if the Weshen people had been eradicated.

  Coren knew nothing of the holy family Ferula had mentioned, but she did know that even when family was separated or fighting, they would run to save the others if needed.

  In the space of the world, the witch
es were family too, and they needed her help.

  Turning her body back toward the ground, she noticed most of the troops had turned and headed back to their weapons and more organized practice, though several of her guards tracked her movements from the ground. There was also a welcome figure waving to her below. She drifted gently to the grass next to Resh, landing in a crouch with her wings draped around her like a cocoon.

  “I’ve always loved that look on you,” he murmured, and Coren shuddered as his gentle hands smoothed the pale gray feathers along her back. She slowly shifted them back into her body, compacting the sources until there was nothing but her own skin beneath Resh’s palms. Then she shifted the back of her shirt closed and stood, meeting his eyes with a sense of rightness she had rarely felt.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?”

  Coren smirked at the surprise on his face. It wasn’t often she could take the Second Son off his guard. “For everything you’re going to do for me.”

  His grin widened, growing mischievous. “Oh, you have no idea. You’ll be thanking me every day of your life if I have any say in it.”

  Coren only smiled, linking her fingers through his and tugging him toward the training ground.

  “Fight me?” Coren asked once they had reached the edge of the groups of soldiers. She jogged to an open shed, grasping at two of the wooden training swords. She tossed one to Resh, and he raised an eyebrow.

  But less than a second later, the wooden tip had swung up to eye level, and Resh had lowered himself into a ready stance. “On guard, Your Majesty.”

  Her sword cracked against his as they twisted and turned in a slow dance. Coren knew he was going easy on her, but for once, she didn’t mind. She’d asked him to spar, but her thoughts were scattered in a thousand directions, none of them very inclined to notice a swinging sword.

  “Do you know where my brother is?” she asked when they stopped for a gulp of water.

  Resh shrugged. “In his rooms, I believe. He went there after you released the prisoners. Nice job, by the way.”

  Coren smiled, but it felt weak. “I don’t want to ask it of you...”

  “Ask away, little witch.” He cocked his eyebrow at her and knocked his sword lightly against her limp arm.

  “Can you follow him a bit more? I don’t care if you pretend to be his friend-”

  “Now, that’s a bit far,” he said, grinning. “But I can certainly slip about as well as he can.”

  “He goes through walls,” Coren blurted, hating she had to point it out.

  Resh glared, and their swords clacked together with a bit more force. “I can manage.”

  “Thank you,” she said, but her words were cut short as Resh swiped away her sword, pressing his wood to her neck. “Again,” he said, lowering the weapon, but not his eyes.

  NIK HAD MADE IT THROUGH the remainder of the week, and it was finally time to return to the island.

  Lorenya had convinced him not to help with the bodies any longer, and while he felt the long gazes of the others from time to time, Nik didn’t believe any resented the decision.

  Instead, he worked to shift together the walls of the city and the great iron gate, molding them back into measures of security. The smaller gate across the entrance to the mountains was shredded, and it took Nik most of a day to create some semblance of safety again. Still, he knew his shifting would be much faster than an ironworker. He also didn’t want to pull any of the women away from their work burying the dead.

  They had pushed farther into the rings of Weshen City each day, delving closer to their own magical limits as well. The last night found everyone working well into the darkness, torches burning around the last ring of the city.

  “It’s done,” Lorenya murmured, coming up quietly beside him. “All the bodies we could find are buried. All that’s left is the pyre. We were hoping you would join us for this.”

  Nik swallowed thickly and nodded. “Of course,” he managed. He followed Lorenya down the dozens of stone steps until they reached the slim stretch of beach beneath the General’s mansion. Twenty or so boats bobbed in the moonlight, ready for an escape that had never come.

  One boat had been piled with the bits of cloth and weapons collected from the men’s bodies, the whole pile strewn with sandjasmine flowers stripped from their vines. It was much less macabre than Nik had imagined, and he began to relax as he realized the worst of this journey was over.

  The women gathered near the boat. The four boys that had been rescued were there as well, weak but wide-eyed as they sat in the sand, waiting for the funeral to begin. As Nik watched Amren light the incense-laden pile, he looked around at the group. He was surprised to realize he was proud of these women.

  It wasn’t an expected emotion. He’d anticipated his focus to latch onto the burning cloth, but instead, he was caught in the beauty of the women’s songs and prayers. Death seemed less gruesome in the mix of silver moonlight and golden firelight - an inevitable ending but also a welcome beginning.

  Balance.

  Nik had never seen a true Weshen funeral, but he added his voice to the prayers as best he could, humming the simple melody along with the women circled before the roaring fire.

  Someone untied the boat from its moorings, and Nik watched as the fire drifted on the currents, burning smaller and smaller as it crept into the night.

  Silently, the group wandered back to the mansion. The women helped the boys gently up the stairs, Menaya carrying one when the journey became too much for his injuries.

  When they reached the mansion, Nik hung back from the rest, reluctant to go inside again. As he turned to look once more at Weshen City spread before him in the purplish black of dawn, Nik whispered a new prayer to the Mirror Magi. Of course, he asked for Sy to return home. And he begged again that they might find each other once more.

  But Nik also said a prayer that Weshen itself might come home - that the Wesh living in Riata might be freed and find new refuge here, in this city. Over and over, he entreated the Mirror Magi to turn Weshen from a city of dead back into a city teeming with life.

  Finally, Nik opened the tall front door and climbed the stairs to Sy’s bed once more. The country had been ransacked and ruined, but Nik dreamed of the future as he lay in Sy’s bed for the last time. Darkness turned to light in his dreams, and he laughed as Sy chased him along the beaches of Weshen Isle.

  Lorenya shook him awake too early, but the sun was already hot through the open window.

  “We’re ready to leave. We’ve divided the boys between two boats. They’re strong enough, I think. If we delay another day, Matron Behrenna may send a search party.” Her voice was regret woven with amusement, and Nik realized he’d been so wrapped in his own thoughts that he’d never once stopped to see how these past days had affected the women.

  “Did you...did you see anyone here...” He halted, uncertain how to ask, or even if he should.

  “I saw many faces I recognized,” Lorenya confirmed, sadness filling her face. “I saw the father of one of my children. Malesh. He was a good man,” she added, casting her eyes down.

  “And the other children’s fathers?” Nik dared to ask.

  She shook her head. “They may have been here, but I was spared much. Each of us has buried friends this week, but we are stronger than the hate and greed that caused this. Now, shall we?” Lorenya prompted, a determined smile on her pretty face as she held open the bedroom door.

  Nik pulled on his boots, gathered his small sack of clothes, and took a long look around the room. He could no longer smell Sy’s presence here, and he was ready for the open expanse of the sea and sky and golden sand.

  He needed Weshen Isle to heal his mind, and then he would be ready for Sy to return and heal his heart.

  The boats were decidedly noisier as they sailed in tandem into the blue MagiSea.

  Nik smiled as the boys chattered, and the women answered curious questions about an uncertain future. He focused on ke
eping the boat straight and swift through the water.

  By the Magi, he was glad to be on a boat again, pointed in the direction of the shore of Weshen Isle.

  “I think the city is safe now for more women to travel there,” Amden remarked as the horizon brought them their first glimpse of home. Nik nodded, and he saw the others doing the same. She continued, “I, for one, want to gather more and return. What will you all do?” She directed her question to the other women.

  The older twins nodded. “I have nothing holding me to the island,” one said. “We’ve talked of reviving one of the market stalls.”

  “My children need me, and I need Weshen Isle,” Lorenya said, a soft smile on her lips as she glanced at Nik. “And you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need.”

  Nik returned her smile, his heart bursting with something he was afraid to name. He’d found so many friends this summer. His childhood self warned him none of it could last. None of it ever lasted. But his heart wanted so badly to believe in this new life he’d created.

  The others continued tossing around plans while Nik fixed his eyes on the strip of sand in the distance, bringing them home as fast as he was able.

  Chapter 21

  COREN HAD TAKEN JYESH’S advice, which meant she’d taken Resh’s advice.

  She lounged in a plush black velvet chair, raised and centered in the formal tea room. A full contingent of her guards spread behind her, lining the walls and flanking the door.

  Her hair was piled on her head and circled by the crown, and her dress was a sweep of burgundy lace. Even the King’s black diamond ring was strung on a silver chain around her neck.

  Keeping her face neutral, she watched as the four Generals, the four members of the upper court, Sy, Resh, and of course, the First Son chose seats from the gathered couches and overstuffed chairs. None of them had been allowed to bring guards or guests, and while the Generals didn’t seem to mind, the court looked nervous.