by Plague Jack
A pink hand print formed on the child’s cheek as her green eyes stared in shock into Minerva’s. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes as she raised a hand to her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking, “I didn’t know…”
She didn’t know, thought the Queen, She didn’t know. Her fingers found the crown and placed it back in its case. “It’s all right,” she said. “You didn’t know. That crown belonged to the man who killed my husband.”
“I’m sorry,” Joseline wailed.
She didn’t know, the Queen reminded herself, she didn’t know. “It’s all right,” said the Queen, downing the rest of her wine as Joseline cried into her skirt. Minerva sat upon the bed as the Princess cried into her lap. Eventually the crying stopped and turned into sniffles.
“I’m sorry for crying…”
“It’s all right,” said the Queen. “I…” She paused. “I’m sorry I hit you. That was wrong of me. Let’s go on an adventure,” she suggested.
Upon hearing this, Joseline sat straight up. “Where are we going? Can I go into the city? Can we go back to the docks? I liked the docks!”
“No,” said Minerva. “I’m not taking you outside. It’s too risky. In fact, we won’t be leaving the dungeons.”
“Where are we going, then?”
Minerva smiled. “We are going to pay my friend Eldred a visit.”
It was so cold in the deepest reaches of the Tarnished Palace’s basement that Minerva could see the ghost of her breath silhouetted against the white wood door to Eldred’s lab. As always, the sapphires in the Cambrian carving glistened in the torchlight. She pulled up the hood of her snow hound fur and rubbed her hands together to keep warm.
Joseline clung to the pipes on the sentinel’s back. In effort to keep the Princess hidden from the Queensguard, they had tied a tapestry around the sentinel’s back in a makeshift cape. The robed sentinel had been seen by a guard, who’d shot the automaton a confused glance before privately disregarding the unusual sight as an eccentricity of the Queen.
“Help her down,” she commanded the sentinel as the metal man extended a hand around his back. Joseline popped out from underneath the sentinel’s improvised clothing and landed in its hand. She was placed onto the ground with surprising gentleness, although the sentinel’s mask was still blank and icy.
“I like the carving!” said the Princess. “Is that Cambrian?”
“It is,” said the Queen. “You know your gods?”
“My tutor taught me all of them. In Vaetor we worship Mamillian the Free. Do you like Cambrian?”
“We’ve never met,” said the Queen, “although recently it seems he has a nasty habit of supporting my enemies.” The door opened with a groan, and to Minerva’s surprise she found the braziers lit and the laboratory alive with activity.
Eldred’s gremlin slaves pored over a row of boar-sized machines. Their frantic operations sent sparks flying as the little creatures operated with an obsessive intent. A single glass eye lay dark in each of them, while their heads were topped with an X of blades. Beneath each eye hung a circular bulb of copper wire. Eldred oversaw the operation from the back wall. “Come in, Minerva, come see my progress,” he said, excited.
“Faelings, Minerva!” exclaimed Joseline upon seeing the gremlins. She clung so tightly to the Queen’s leg that Minerva could feel her fingernails digging into her skin.
“Hush, child. Those aren’t faelings. They won’t hurt you. They work for my friend Eldred,” said the Queen as she ushered Joseline through the laboratory towards Eldred. “Say hello.”
“By the gods, is that the child?” said Eldred, leaning so far away from the wall that the tentacles that held him in place at the shoulder strained. “How do you do, Miss?” asked the old thing. “My name is Eldred, and I am the only sorcerer you’re likely to meet during your stay.”
“Don’t be shy,” said Minerva, pushing Joseline forward. “He won’t bite.”
“Hello… are you a monster?” asked the Princess.
Eldred loosed a wheezing chuckle. “Yes, yes, I do in fact believe I am, but like most monsters, I was once a man.”
“A wizard?” asked Joseline. “This looks like the kind of place where a wizard would live. Grandpa had a wizard in his court. He was bald and his eyes were black as coal. Grandfather didn’t like him and said he was just sent by the Wizard’s College to keep watch on Vaetor. Is there a Wizard’s College here?”
“There was,” said Minerva. “But it disbanded.”
“Why?” asked Joseline. “Did you get tired of them?”
“They disbanded themselves,” said Eldred. “They believed that they were going to usher humanity forward through mutation. They failed where I succeeded.”
“A pity,” said the Queen. “They were loyal until their madness took them,” she said, smiling. “The hellions worked magic at Capricorn. What I wouldn’t give to have an army of them again.”
“You would give your life, probably,” said Eldred before he flicked his eyes at Minerva. “Since when is it wise to let your political refugees roam freely about the palace?”
“She wasn’t roaming free,” said the Queen defensively. “I was with her the whole time. I can hardly keep her locked up forever.”
Eldred’s milky eyes gazed at Minerva. They seemed to see all too much. “No,” he said, “I suppose you can’t.”
“Are those the drones?” asked Minerva, gesturing towards the machines being picked over by gremlins. “Are those blades to cut them in half?”
Eldred chuckled. “No. Believe it or not those blades are going to allow my little pets to fly.”
“You need wings to fly,” said Joseline. “They can’t fly without wings.”
“Don’t doubt him,” said the Queen. “I’ve found it rarely works in your favor.”
“Doubt plants the seed of discovery. Never fear, my Queen,” said Eldred. “Inquiring minds do question. They will fly, mark my words.”
“Show me!” said Joseline. “I want to see them fly.”
“Very well,” said Eldred as Minerva gave him a nod of approval. Eldred’s eyes flashed red as a drone sensed his command. The drone’s glass eye began to glow a burning crimson from within as Eldred possessed it. The blades atop its head began to spin, slowly at first before becoming a mesmerizing blur of spinning metal. The gremlins squealed as they fell from the machine’s sides and the drone lifted into the air.
“It’s like those whirligig seeds!” said Joseline as the machine blasted icy wind in their faces.
“Yes…” said Eldred. “Nature often draws concepts for men to perfect.”
“Impressive,” the Queen shouted over the gusts of wind that battered and tossed her scarlet hair furiously. “But how do you expect it to bring down a hellion?” Seemingly in answer, the coil of wire at the whirligig’s base began to glow blue with crackling light.
“With lightning trapped from the sky,” said Eldred as the machine powered down again to be pawed over by the gremlins. “I would provide you with a demonstration, but I’m afraid you may not survive it.”
“Why couldn’t you have come up with these months ago?” asked Minerva. “Then I wouldn’t have needed to hire the Bottler.”
“You didn’t ask,” said Eldred. “Has there been any word from Calcifer?”
“None. He’s either been killed by our mystery hellion, which isn’t very likely, or he’s now working for the Wild Hunt, which is probable.”
“Tsk, Tsk,” mocked Eldred. “Things just aren’t going your way, are they?”
“I’ve been through worse.”
“Why, yes, you have,” said Eldred. “I remember it well. The main difference between this Wild War and the Green War is that your enemy has yet to openly denounce you. Instead of challenging you on a field of battle, the wild ones hide in plain sight. Their base is remote and unseizable. It seems all you can do, Minerva, is wait and prepare.”
“Braddock thinks that they will attack Norfield,�
� said Minerva. “I’m sending reinforcements just in case. Norfield will need your machines.”
“Give me a few more days and they’ll be ready,” said Eldred. “I have to perfect their targeting so they don’t fry your own men. With any luck they’ll be able to bring down the hellion with a few bolts.”
“Norfield has never been taken,” said the Queen. “I will not go down in history as the queen who lost Norfield to an untrained conscript army of subhumans.”
“Not just an army of subhumans, Minerva. Do not underestimate your enemy. In their eyes you are the monster who forced them out of their homes and gassed their women and children in the dead of night. The crown, and your name, only signify everything wrong with this land. Human-elfkin relations have never been strong, after all. The only reason Darius was able to rebel at all was because of the festering racial tensions that existed since the Vaetorians colonized.”
He’s right, thought Minerva. Eldred usually was.
“How did you get these gremlins to work with you?” interrupted Joseline, closely inspecting the working creatures. “Do they work for food?”
“No. I’ve connected my brain to theirs telepathically. I see what they see and feel what they feel.”
“It must be hard seeing through so many eyes at once. Don’t you get confused?”
“It took some getting used to,” said Eldred, attempting to shrug. “But I have plenty of time and a very large brain.”
“What do they eat?” asked Joseline, her eyes wide and fascinated.
“They don’t need food,” said Eldred. “They feed off the energy of souls the Queen’s men assist in collecting.”
Joseline was shocked. “Souls? You feed them people’s souls?” she said, staring accusingly at the Queen.
“Not in the sense you know, child,” said the Queen, shooting Eldred a glare. “You’ve probably been raised to believe that a person’s soul contains their personality, and when they die they go to the afterlife.”
“That’s hogwash,” snorted Eldred. “A person’s soul is simply the light that fuels their body, nothing more. We’ve learned to use them as a power source here in the lab.”
“How do you get a person’s soul out?” asked Joseline. “That sounds scary.”
“Eldred has made a special kind of axe the executioner uses,” said the Queen. Gods be damned, I don’t want to have to explain this to a child. “It collects the body’s energy upon death, which we then recycle in the lab.”
“Human recycling,” added Eldred.
“You’re killing people to make these things?” said Joseline in horror.
“Only bad people,” said the Queen. “Criminals who were sentenced to die, people like the Gesskara, or the men who shot your grandmother and tried to kill me. Only bad people,” she repeated while Eldred snorted a laugh.
“That’s… all right then,” said Joseline. “As long as they’re bad people only.” The girl gave a pause for thought. “What do you mean there isn’t an afterlife? Mother Florence used to say that the gods made a heaven for good people and a hell for bad people.”
“Was Mother Florence a witch?” asked Eldred.
“No…” admitted Joseline.
“Then she didn’t know what she was talking about. I’ve dealt with the gods directly, and unless they’re pulling some grand prank on those to whom they give their gifts, I can assure you there is no hereafter.”
“I don’t want to believe that,” said Joseline sourly.
“Life is full of unpleasant realities,” said the Queen, turning away from the Princess and back to her tentacled adviser. “How much longer will it take to finish the Nixus cleaner?”
“What’s that?” asked Joseline.
Minerva pointed across the room to the four-legged gas bag which sat limp and dead-eyed. “That over there. It’s a machine Eldred’s working on that removes poison from the air.”
“It looks like a spider and a bagpipe made a baby,” remarked Joseline.
Eldred let out a low laugh, only to be cut off by Minerva. “I don’t think you understand how much is riding on your getting that machine up and running. If the Wild Hunt is defeated at Norfield, it’s going to inspire rebellion from the Talon to Sinstolke. If they win and take Norfield… well, that’s a bigger problem. I need to remove the Nixus from the north so the elfkin can have their home again. It might be our only chance at peace.”
“Peace. You’ve had ten years of it, but now you’re at war again and even people have no idea. But the wise ones will feel it coming in their bones. Preventing Norfield from being taken has taken precedence over clearing the fog, and I’m afraid the Nixus cleaner is still going to take more time. I had a letter sent to Evrill asking her whether she could offer advice, but she hasn’t responded. Quite out of character. Her mind doesn’t match my own, but give her chemicals and she can perform miracles.”
“She’s probably just struggling with all the refugees Harpy’s Point inherited,” said the Queen. “Evrill has proven herself extremely reliable in the past. I have no reason to doubt her now.”
“She’s also a weak link in your leadership,” said Eldred. “Of all the nobility, Evrill would be the most likely to work with the elfkin. Not out of a need to usurp but rather a misdirected sense of regret. Pendragon, Evrill, Calcifer, Shrike. All of them have gone missing, each one among Amernia’s brightest.”
“Shrike’s betrayal was not entirely a surprise,” said the Queen. “He was both an opportunist and a subhuman. It doesn’t take genius like yours to guess where his true loyalties lied. I’ll give you Calcifer,” she continued, “but Evrill and Pendragon? They know where the power lies.”
Eldred let loose a heavy sigh. “I think that may be the problem…”
Chapter 8
I invoke thee, Cambrian, on this day, to watch these two before us as their lives are ever bound in life and after.
—Amernian wedding verse
“Salus wants me to travel to the Talon and convince Quintero to ally with the Wild Hunt,” Pendragon explained to Shrike as they met in the dusty, narrow room Shrike had been assigned.
“What a clever boy,” said Shrike. “Quintero’s as mean as he is lean, and prone to dissent and self-entitled tantrums. He’s not the type of man to give an ear to anxious usurpers. But an old acquaintance… perhaps.”
“Think it will work?” asked Pendragon, stroking his beard.
“Eh…” said Shrike. “It might. Quintero’s hard to predict. He’s not known to be overly cruel, not like Stolk, but he’s also far from kind. If he’s anything, he’s greedy, and it’s his greed you need to appeal to. But remember, he’s selfish, and he only gives if he’s getting more in return.”
“I knew Quintero back when he was just a merchant who didn’t know he was a noble’s bastard. We were friendly but never friends, and even then I could see the thirst for power within. I think he will help the Hunt.”
“He might,” said Shrike, repositioning himself on the stool and making its legs creak. “Then again, he might not. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Do what?” asked Pendragon. “Visit Quintero? No. I can’t say I do.”
“Then don’t,” said Shrike. “Leave this place while you still can. Leave Amernia before the storm hits and live out the rest of your days in someplace tropical, with a trio of dark-skinned concubines. That’s what I’d do if they’d let me leave.”
“I can’t do that,” said Pendragon. “I owe it to the elfkin to try to make things right. I have wrongs here I need to amend.”
“You aren’t going to fix Amernia unless you can change human nature,” said Shrike. “At best you’ll aid in the exchange of one monarch for another. You cannot beat prejudice, nor can you eradicate injustice. At most they can be curbed and controlled.”
“One day we’ll be able to beat those darker parts of our nature,” said Pendragon, shaking his head. “Maybe not in my lifetime, or in yours, but I believe it will happen. There just aren’t enough good
people trying.”
“Good people like Salus?” asked Shrike. “Tell me you don’t trust that conniving pretty boy.”
“Do I trust him? No; neither do I trust Quintero. But if I work, I can, like you said, help curb the chaos.”
“I would think,” began Shrike, anger trickling through his usually cool exterior, “that by now you would have quit resigning yourself to be a pawn in the games of kings.”
“I’m a knight by trade,” said Pendragon. “I murder people. I’m good at murdering people, and sometimes I enjoy murdering people. Most of the time it’s absolutely necessary. The truth caught up to me… I won’t be a pawn. Not any longer. ”
“That doesn’t mean you should play diplomat,” said Shrike. “Let Salus send someone more qualified. Removing Roselock isn’t going to help Amernia, only weaken it. Are you that intent on being someone’s bitch, or have you been one for so long you don’t know how to be anything else?”
The old man’s eyes narrowed. Shrike had hit a nerve. “I’m playing their game, Harper. I’m treating everyone as my enemy and keeping all potential threats close. You of all people should understand that.”
“I do, but you don’t exactly inspire my confidence. Unless I ever need someone killed, I might hire you to be their bodyguard.” Shrike let out a heavy sigh. “I’m to be kept as the Wild Hunt’s prisoner. Salus’s doing, no doubt.”
“I know,” said Pendragon to Shrike’s surprise.
“You know? So you’ve arranged to take me with you, then?” Pendragon’s eyes flitted to the floor, and the knight shook his head.
“I can’t do that, Harper.”
“And why the fuck not?”
“Because,” Pendragon began, carefully thinking over his next words, “the Queen’s former spymaster is too precious a commodity to risk losing. You saw this coming when you agreed to come with us, didn’t you?”
Shrike ran his fingers through his hair, exasperated.
“You will be taken care of,” continued Pendragon. “Evrill has promised me that she will not see you harmed. Her word carries some clout with the elfkin, so just don’t act a fool, and tell them what they need to know. I won’t be at the Talon for long, and you’ll see me again once I’m done with Quintero.”
