“Thank you, M’Tek. I accept this immense honor,” I replied in Noge, uncertain to what I had just consented. I then took a long swallow of berrywine from her glass, to the chorus of cheering.
The rest of the room followed M’Tek’s example, bowing to me and pledging love and loyalty, each in turn, until every head of house had spoken. I forced a smile throughout the proceeding as the hair on the back of my neck rose. By the unrestrained excitement humming in the air, I knew, something profound had occurred. I couldn’t quite decipher what it was, however. The word Prime kept playing through my drink addled mind, with a governing connotation attached. M’Tek’s father had been a Prime before he took the Fae throne, but the word had been little used in the histories I read after that point.
M’Tek remained standing at my side throughout the process, though she was careful not to touch me. After the last noble, the longwinded and lecherous High Lord R’Toc, had pledged his love and loyalty, she raised her voice again.
“I fear we have kept our guests too long with our self-indulgent ramblings,” she said. “They have traveled far to be with us tonight. It’s time we concluded this evening. Rest well tonight, my friends, for tomorrow night’s revelries will be demanding.”
M’Tek didn’t wait for a response, but carefully tucked her hand into the groove of my arm, and led me quickly from the banquet room. I walked along beside her through the ornate, moonlit hallway, and through an enormous ballroom, inevitably walking out the open back area of the palace and onto the lawn.
“Where are you leading me?” I asked once we were outside.
“You said you wanted a walk,” was her reply.
“Yes, of course. A walk will be nice,” I agreed absently. “But M’Tek, what was that back there? What did I agree to, in front of your nobles? You asked me to be your Prime. The last mention of that title, in the books you sent me, was during the days of the Fae Republic, before your father declared himself the Fae King. They were the senior elected officials.”
“Primes are no longer elected,” she stated in a distracted tone.
“But what is expected of me?” I asked.
“Nothing, really. The title is mostly honorary, and bestowed for life,” she explained. “Originally, the Prime was the champion of the people. For a while I used the title to shirk the day-to-day responsibilities with which I’d rather not be bothered. For this reason, I usually chose the least sympathetic person I could find for the job,” she said, smiling at the absurdity. “It saved a great deal of trouble in the past. You see, when I have ruled on a matter, and my subject is dissatisfied with my action, that subject may apply to you, the Prime, to argue their circumstance, and hopefully bring me around from my myopic view. You don’t really have to do all of that, though. You may receive letters from time to time, but you can ignore them, or better yet, give them to Pet. In your case, I used the title simply to place you at the top of the order of succession to the Fae throne. You’ll rule an empire in a few years,” she said, quickly summing up what should have been explained before the banquet.
“The top of the succession? How could you do this without even asking first?” I asked sharply. For a moment my hand itched to slap her. “What about Pet? She may never forgive me. You’ve taken her birthright, and foisted it upon me. Did you even ask her before doing this?”
“Don’t be dramatic, Lore. My cousin’s ambitions are no concern of mine, or yours,” was her reply. “And why would I ask first. I assumed you’d be pleased. You won’t have to fight my cousin for my crown. I’m handing it to you. When I’m gone, you’ll reunite Nogeland,” she added. “You’ll have an empire to rule.”
“Are you mad?” I snapped. M’Tek stared at me, that crease forming in her brow again.
“Well, this is not the reaction I expected from you,” she admitted.
“If you think I’ll have your crown, you must believe you’re dying,” I pointed out. M’Tek nodded slowly.
“You know I’m dying, Lore. We discussed this already. I told you about the diminishing,” she replied. “Even Sim’Nu can’t keep me alive much longer,” M’Tek said in a steady voice. “My reign is coming to an end,” she added.
“That’s not possible,” I said sharply, still irritated with her. “I won’t accept that.” M’Tek laughed.
“Sometimes, my sweet enchantress, even you can’t command things to be the way you want them,” M’Tek observed quietly. “It’s all right. I still have a few years left in me,” she added. “Actually, I’m hoping we might have five.” I shook my head. “I’d like to reach two hundred and sixty,” she added with a grin. “It’s a nice round number. Don’t you agree?”
“What are the symptoms of this sickness you have?” I asked.
“Well, it looks like old age, but it’s sudden, and it should take me quickly after all. Once it really starts, I’ll probably age around a year every few days.” I nodded.
“And how did you contract this disease?” I asked, my mind already working to find a way out.
“My temper was my downfall, I guess. It was after Sarane died,” she said. “I was angry. I wanted to kill every Vilkerling I saw,” she added. “I blamed them for her death. Really, it was only her consort I should have blamed. Regardless, I trained for military service, obsessively, after I rejoined my Fae family. Within a few months I was ready to ride into battle. I began as a sergeant, with a small squadron, but I was extremely ambitious.” I nodded, wondering where her story was heading. “I was nicknamed the Gory Princess, for the amount of blood and body tissue I usually had covering me after a battle. I never kept to the rear back then. I led from the front, always fighting in the thickest combat. My tactics were particularly inspiring to my troops. We became notorious for our impossible victories. My reputation soared.
“Anyway, my eldest brother, Rad’Ik, took notice of my well-honed slaughtering abilities, and I quickly was promoted to lieutenant general under him.” She turned her head to catch my eye. “That was my mistake, attracting his notice,” she continued.
“Why?” I asked, curious.
“Because I contracted the Diminishing Sickness from him,” she said softly. “He’s thought to have been the first to have carried the plague. He had been raiding Noge villages up in Northeastern Nogeland. He was looking for a magic weapon spoken of in legend. He never found it, but while digging up graves in his search of this mythical object, it’s said he opened an ancient tomb. A foul odor was released and those who breathed the air of the tomb were immediately sick with headaches, chest pain, and delirium, for the following week. This is the initial pattern of the disease. Of his party, only Rad’Ik survived that initial bout of illness.
“I’m not sure I believe his account. He was known to be a great liar, but without question, he did contract this plague. No one realized he was sick at first. Once his hair turned white, it became the fashion in the military to powder your hair.” M’Tek laughed lightly, scrunching her nose up, as if she thought that bit was particularly funny. I was unable to share in her mirth as my gaze shifted over her brilliant white hair.
“No one even thought he looked strange,” she added. “It took a few years for the disease to make itself known. In that time, any Fae Lemu that he had fluid contact with also contracted the illness. It spread mostly through sex, I believe. He enjoyed both male and female lovers, in abundance, so he was the perfect disseminator. It also spread rampantly during particularly bloody battles.”
“His blood mixed with yours?” I asked. M’Tek nodded. “During battle?”
“A battle of sorts, but that’s another story,” she said quietly.
“You won’t tell me,” I surmised.
“Not tonight, Lore,” she replied. “This night is too beautiful for such an ugly story.”
I considered probing for more details, but M’Tek seemed reluctant to speak again. And so we walked on in silence. I stared up at the bright moon surrounded by a blanket of brilliant stars in the inky black sky and realized I ag
reed with her; the evening was too beautiful to spoil. The cool nocturnal wind tickled my skin and made my dress undulate against my legs, the sensation pleasant, soothing even. As we walked farther, I noticed a faint glow on the horizon. I began allowing the tension to ease away from me. Everything would be all right. M’Tek would stay forever strong, and young, and mine. There was no reason a disease she’d carried for more than two centuries should kill her now.
With each step we took, the glow intensified, and I began to realize there was something peculiar beyond the cliff’s edge. When I was finally able to gaze out across the water I was struck by the strange beauty I saw below me. The sea appeared ignited. The water, lapping the white rock of the cliff’s edge, glowed iridescent blue and appeared to be lit from the sea floor beneath. The sight was so impressive I could only stare at it, transfixed, my feet having stopped their progress. After a moment I noticed dark shapes moving gracefully through the vivid water. There was life within that pool of light.
The salty wind blew damp against my face, whipping my hair loose from the knot in which M’Tek had tied it. Too late, I reached back in an attempt to catch the sapphire clip fastened in my hair before it thrashed free. When I glanced over at her, she was watching me, her faintly luminous eyes fixed on my face, rather than the spectacle before us.
“How is this real?” I asked, breaking the silence that had grown between us. Her arm stretched along my shoulders, cautioning me as I stepped forward to the extreme edge of the cliff. Her other hand pressed against my stomach as if to protect me from falling.
“Be careful of your footing, my love,” she said close to my ear, her grip tightening across my stomach as she steadied me. “Some of these rocks may be loose. Even you might not survive a fall from this height.”
“I can’t lose you,” I whispered, realizing what I was seeing was made far more spectacular by the warmth of her body close to mine.
“Everyone dies eventually, Lore. I’ve lived far longer than anyone has a right to expect,” she said quietly.
“I’m not concerned with what everyone does,” I replied. Her laugh was soft, a silvery sound whirling through the gale. After a moment she eased me back from the edge and released me. “If this plague was contracted in the Eastern Noge Territory, someone there must know how to stop it,” I said.
“That may have been true once,” she replied. After a moment she added, “Lore, it’s all right. My greatest fear about dying was throwing my country into chaos. You’ll provide my people with stability,” she added. “And mine will be a fitting death,” she continued. “The plague was good for the Fae people. And I’ll be its last victim, the last of the Lemu. That’s just. I accept it.”
“What?” I snapped. “You can’t mean what you’re saying.”
“I do mean it. It was the plague that changed our culture,” M’Tek said. “When the Lemu died out, most of our military fell apart. Those old seasoned generals and politicians, the ones who remembered the time before, and the reasons for our strife with the Noge, they were lost. We were required to join forces with the Eastern Noge to defend ourselves against the Vilkerlings. It’s the foundation of our alliance. An alliance that has elevated our culture.” M’Tek sighed. “If not for this disease, we would have conquered Vilkerland and Nogeland over two centuries ago. We would have taken both races as slaves. We might have moved across this glowing sea, seeking out more people to fight and conquer. There are ancient stories of a land beyond the water inhabited by painted savages. We would have sought them out. Our lust for power would have transcended every other facet of our culture.”
“What’s your point?” I asked sharply.
“Isn’t it obvious? This plague had a positive effect on the Fae people. We were once consumed with violence,” she said. “Tonight I placed the future of my country in the hands of a foreign Queen, and my people cheered,” she said. “That is the reaction of a peaceful people.”
“No, that’s the reaction of a people who believe their Fae Queen both infallible and immortal. Neither of which you are, apparently,” I said calmly. “They don’t understand how sick you are. When I asked Pet about your health, she told me you would be standing over her cremation pyre some day. Your nobles thought what you did tonight was purely strategic, a play for more power, possibly control over Vilkerland through manipulation of me.” M’Tek turned and faced me, her silver eyes reflecting the light from the water below us.
“Don’t burn Pet when she dies. Inter her in my family crypt. I want her beside me,” M’Tek said absently.
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” I asked, growing irritated.
“Of course I heard you. And it’s possible you’re correct,” she replied. “I hope not. I want to believe everyone will be all right without me.”
“It truly doesn’t matter. I’ll never take your throne, because you’re not dying,” I repeated firmly. “And I do understand how sick you are. You don’t have to explain again,” I said quickly, anticipating yet another depiction of her impending, and acceptable, death.
I took a step away from the edge of the cliff, toward her, and she wrapped her arms around me. She kissed my forehead, and I tilted my chin so I’d meet her lips. She kissed me gently at first, but slowly our kisses deepened, as her hands moved across my back and down over my hips, gathering me closer as my hands pressed into her lower back.
“I will not let you go,” I whispered against her lips. She kissed me harder, and then broke away.
“As breathtaking as it is, sharing this view of the Luminous Gulf was not my true intent when bringing you here,” she confessed. “I have a place that’s close by, and private. I use it when…” She stopped speaking and reconsidered what she was about to say to me, apparently. She stood watching me for a moment. I swallowed hard and pressed my lips together, fighting my jumpiness. “Do you still want me?” she asked quietly.
“This view is spectacular,” I said, stalling for some unfathomable reason.
“Please, answer me, Lore. Knowing what you now know, do you still want me?”
“Yes,” I said evenly.
“Thank Deus,” she replied in hardly more than a whisper.
She took my hand and led me a short distance along the headland. She stepped over the side, guiding me after her to a step hidden beneath the cliff’s edge. I followed her as we descended a short, rough stairway before turning and walking into a hole in the cliff’s face. She used a key to unlock a metal gate and we passed through. We continued on deeper, into what appeared to be a tunnel, neither of us speaking. Light from the Luminous Gulf was reflected along the walls by golden tiles set in the ceiling, and silver ones in the floor, and an occasional silver plate, strategically placed to reflect the light along our path.
After this relatively short walk, we approached two massive copper doors. M’Tek again produced a key, unlocked the heavy bolt, and gently pushed on one of the doors until it shifted open. I followed her inside to see the brilliance of the Luminous Gulf igniting the room beyond, blue light dancing upon the walls around me. I walked across to the front of the room and stared out through a wall of glass at the glowing water beneath. The floor was polished stone, from the cliff, and the walls covered in ornate tile work. There were beautiful carpets on the floors, and large lavish sofas facing the windows.
“What is this place?” I asked, struck by both the simplicity and beauty.
“I’m not certain what it was originally. It’s one of those strange structures we find, from the time before. It was here already, when Lareem was first settled, more than eight hundred years ago. The basic structure is unchanged, but I had the glass repaired in the windows, and added tile work to the walls, and of course I added the doors for privacy,” she replied. “In a sense, the palace is really not mine,” she said. “It belongs to the Fae people. It’s more of a government building than a home,” she explained. “This is mine. I come here when I need time alone,” she continued. “Until a few months ago I hadn’t been here in ov
er ten years.”
“Why?” I asked, surprised.
M’Tek didn’t answer me, but instead walked over to the windows. She turned a lever projecting from the wall and the windows began folding back on themselves until they were nested within the wall. The sea breeze wound past M’Tek, lifting the loose locks of her white hair around her. She then turned her attention from the view of the water to me.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asked. “I’m shamefully short of food, but I do have berrywine.” She watched me, waiting. “I have torppa also. Have you ever tried it?” I shook my head. “Do you know what it is?”
“I’m guessing it’s a drink,” I replied, “since you have no food.” M’Tek smiled.
“I said I’m short of food,” she corrected.
“You were drinking it earlier, when I arrived,” I observed. “I’ve never actually heard of torppa before today,” I admitted sheepishly.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” she replied. “You live among Vilken savages. I’m told your people in the southwestern plains of Vilkerland distill an intoxicant using the innards of cats,” she said in a mocking tone. “Torppa’s made from the fruit of the torppine vine,” she explained.
“Isn’t that the berry used to brew mirthbane?” I asked. “I’m not immune to that particular poison yet.” M’Tek grinned.
“If you harvest it early, and allow it to soak in a grain sack deep in the cold water of a mountain spring for six weeks, and then peel and pit it, a fermented drink can be made from the pulp of the fruit once it’s crushed. Still, it has to ferment in aspict wood barrels for seven years before it’s safe to drink,” she finished. “There’s something about the tannins in aspict wood. They neutralize what’s left of the poison.” I laughed. “And drinking copious amounts of torppa will bring about immunity to mirthbane, so I suggest you develop a taste for it. Would you like a glass?”
“Well, how can I refuse such an offer?” I replied. “After all the work it took to make it, it’s the least I can do.”
The Changeling Page 12
