The Queen's Quarry

by Frank Morin

  Hamish was hunched over the controls, hands flicking between control rods, a look of intense concentration on his face. “Major storm hit just a few minutes ago. I don’t think it’s quite as bad as that big one that brought winter with it, but it’s close.”

  “Can’t we fly above it?”

  “I tried, but ran into fierce headwinds up there. Even with the push thrusters maxed, we barely made any headway. We’d run out of power before making it back to Badurach.”

  Every window showed billowing clouds of whipping snow. Hamish could just as easily be flying straight down for all he could tell.

  That thought worried him, so he decided to test their direction. He picked up a big crumb of cake still stuck to the seat next to him and flicked it at Hamish. It struck the back of his neck, just above the collar of his suit.

  Hamish glanced back. “What was that?”

  “Just checking to see if we’re flying straight.”

  “Good idea. I tried a spit test earlier. Since then, I’ve just watched Aifric’s hair in case it starts falling up or sideways.” He considered the control panel thoughtfully. “We need to install some kind of horizontal check to help with that. I wish we’d hung out in Althing a bit longer. I heard they have really good compasses in their ships. That would help make sure we stay on course.”

  Connor hadn’t considered that. In the past, they’d always flown in weather that allowed them to see sun or moon or stars regularly. Now he had no idea where they were. It was like flying underwater.

  That gave him an idea. Connor downed a vial of soapstone mixture and tried tapping elemental water. For a second he connected and Water appeared, standing in front of him. She still wore that coat of conflicting power frequencies, though. Connor reached for her extended hand, but the red and green power sparking and sizzling across her hand shorted each other out, snapping the connection.

  The red-frequency power felt more familiar somehow, so he tried grabbing only a part of her thumb where the red power seemed to hold sway. For a second, he connected, and she smiled encouragingly. He managed to pulse his water senses out in every direction. The landscape unfolded to his mind, like a map in his thoughts. They were flying along a rugged mountain range. He hoped those were the Maclachlans.

  Then a new wave of green energy swept across Water, momentarily swamping the red power he was connected with. The connection shorted out and the connection jolted him, knocking his hand away. He muttered a curse.

  “What?” Aifric asked.

  “Still having trouble with the elements. I connected for a few seconds, though. We’re flying over a mountain range.”

  Hamish looked relieved. “I had worried we’d drifted off. The Maclachlans should take us right to Drumwhindle.”

  “If you can hold this course, we should get there. I’ll try again when you think we’re close.”

  “Give it three or four hours. This storm is slowing us down a lot.”

  That gave Connor time to rummage for food. Hamish and Aifric were both still stuffed from their epic eating competition. Connor settled back into the second row with a pot full of glazed ham and potatoes. Despite being packed carefully in the cast iron pot, they were pretty cold. He didn’t dare attempt touching fire, but Hamish dropped an activated bit of marble into the pot to heat it up.

  That helped, but heated things unevenly. The meat closest to the marble got charred, while the food on the opposite side stayed cold, despite his attempts to stir it. He would have tried heating the pot over the little marble burners, but the Hawk was pitching so badly, he’d never keep it in place.

  In fact, trying to eat during that storm became a test of his agility and timing. He had to pull open the lid just long enough to take a bite before the bucking craft splattered the food all over him. He managed only a few bites before giving up. The wild motion was starting to make him feel sick, and this was not the time to try for the puke-distance title.

  After securing the pot under his seat, he asked Aifric, “How are you feeling?”

  “Great. My memories are still settling into the proper sequence. I’ll be working with the other girls for weeks to fill in all the gaps. Other than those fuzzy memories, I feel amazing.”

  “I’m really happy to hear that,” Connor said sincerely.

  Her expression turned thoughtful. “One thing surprises me, though. I’ve been feeling a growing urge to tap granite, but from my memories, I don’t think I used to ever actually use my primary affinity.”

  Hamish grinned. “You did include some improvements, then. Excellent.”

  “Not on purpose,” Connor said.

  “Maybe not, but another thing is weird too. When I tapped sandstone to reconnect with my Healer gift, my affinity seems exceptionally powerful. I suspect I’ll be able to heal better than ever.”

  “Double enhancement,” Hamish said. “Good job.”

  Connor thought back to the creative liberties he’d taken with designing the affinity stone walls of her mental partition. Might that have enhanced her affinities? The idea was intriguing.

  “Let me know what you find out when you get to test it,” he said.

  “I will.” She shrugged and smiled again. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m alive again and my affinities seem to be stronger than ever. It’s just, I’m trying to settle back into being myself, and any changes make that process harder.”

  “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. I’m just thrilled your back,” Connor said.

  “Me too. Thank you.” She lifted a chain of steel links over her head and handed it to him. Little silver clasps connected to every fourth links. Three were filled with pieces of chert, serpentinite, and limestone.

  That was a clever way to carry power stones. When he tried to hand it back, she shook her head with a smile. “A small token of appreciation for helping bring me back from the dead.”

  Hamish chuckled. “So you’re a resurrectionist for hire now? Can you resurrect that second chocolate cake? That one was worth eating twice.”

  “Not unless you want to return all the pieces,” Connor laughed.

  Aifric grimaced. “Don’t you dare. Connor, I hope you find that necklace useful.”

  “Thank you.” He hadn’t expected any sort of gift. Friends helped each other out. That should be enough. The gesture meant a lot, and he’d cherish it.

  Hamish said, “We’ve been talking about Donleavy and what happened when you tried sneaking in. Sounds like an amazing place if you ignore the whole reign-of-psycho-terror feel.”

  “Have you been talking with Mariora?”

  She shook her head. “The girls suggested I hold the reins for a while. The closer connection with our body helps ground me to myself. Mariora shared her experience through me, and the others added their thoughts. We can all see what’s going on, so we all have variations of the same memories. Melded all together, they’re pretty accurate. That’s how they’ll restore me so completely.”

  “What does dying feel like?” Hamish asked, fascinated.

  “That part I don’t remember, thankfully. The others decided not to include that memory. Probably a good idea. We may revisit those final moments in detail once the rest of my memories are restored.”

  Connor said, “Good. My own memories of the last minute or so before she let us go are still fuzzy.”

  “Well, I was dead, and the other girls were in shock, so their accounts are pretty jumbled. That’s another reason we’ve avoided those moments so far.”

  “I’d just like to understand why she let us go. It could be important.”

  Hamish asked, “Connor, couldn’t you go back in and see it for yourself?”

  He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He’d witness Aifric’s death, and that was traumatic enough from the outside.

  She said, “I don’t think we’d let him. I died, and that’s not something you should focus on, Hamish. Better to concentrate on living.”

  After that, the storm intensified and they didn’t talk muc
h for the next three hours, but just held on while Hamish tried to keep them aloft. Connor tried connecting with water again, but failed to link to it at all. So Hamish resorted to slowing and descending carefully to check their position.

  As the Hawk pitched and bucked in the turbulent air in the lower altitudes, Hamish looked nervously at Aifric. “Got anyone in there with soapstone who can help scout where we are? I don’t want to fly into a mountain.”

  “We’ve been discussing that. Nuzha’s got the best water affinity, but she doesn’t really like Obrioners.”

  “Does she like to live?” Connor asked.

  “Good point. We’ll let her out and we’ll do our best to keep her calm, but just be cautious not to insult her. Her honor is very touchy.”

  Connor glanced at Hamish, who shrugged, not looking concerned. Most of Aifric’s personalities were dangerous so they were used to that feeling of danger around her.

  Aifric’s face shivered and her expression turned disapproving. Her eyes seemed to darken, her brows creasing into a scowl. Her voice came out harsh, with an accent that could have been beautiful if it wasn’t so full of disgust.

  “Figures, Obrioners aren’t smart enough to avoid a storm like this. And of course you got lost. If my father knew you men asked help from a woman, he would slit all our throats.”

  Hamish grinned. “I think I like you, Nuzha.”

  She produced a knife from somewhere so fast Connor barely followed it. “If not for the life debt I owe Connor for restoring my sister, I would not have agreed to sully my lips speaking with Obrioners. Know that it is forbidden for an impure swine of Obrion to touch a daughter of the sands. Try it and I’ll cut out your heart.”

  Connor liked her strength, but decided it was probably best that they interacted with Nuzha as little as possible.

  Hamish gave her an incredulous look. “If you don’t like our company, you’re free to go.”

  The shielding over the window directly in front of Nuzha disappeared and the blizzard roared in. Blinding snow poured in, scattered her pillows, and bitter cold sucked the heat away in an instant.

  Nuzha screamed and the snow rebounded away. She glared at Hamish. “Water that freezes and flies above the land is unnatural, but it still obeys my command. A city lies directly beneath us. Land there so we can get out of this abomination.”

  “What city?” Connor asked. He’d hoped they had reached Badurach pass, but it was guarded by only a tiny garrison.

  Nuzha shrugged in abundant disgust. “The cities of you coldlanders matter little to me. We never raid this far north. It sits on a bluff beside a river, with high walls.” She cocked her head, as if listening. “Tresta believes it’s Merkland.”

  Hamish restored the window shielding and Connor said, “Thank you, Nuzha. You upheld your family honor perfectly. Would you send Aifric to speak with us?”

  Her face shuddered again, her scowl replaced by Aifric’s ready smile. “Nuzha’s right. We need to set down.”

  Hamish said, “Of course we do. Trying to fly up to the pass through this storm would be suicidal, especially with Connor’s affinities broken and Nuzha sharpening her dagger in that head of yours.”

  Connor added, “Ivor is here. We can find out how his planning with Rory is going.”

  Aifric’s voice changed to Student Eighteen. “Hopefully it’s going well. If they were discovered, we might get thrown into prison.”

  Connor chuckled. “If they were discovered, there wouldn’t be anything left of Merkland after Ivor and Rory finished with it.”

  Hamish’s expression turned to mock outrage. “They wouldn’t start without us, would they?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  They almost crashed into the palace before they saw it. Even though many lights glowed in the windows, the raging storm obscured them until the last moment. Hamish fought to keep the Hawk descending slowly through the bucking winds. Even though Connor couldn’t tap his tertiary powers, he swapped to limestone and called forth a burst of light.

  The reflection off the snow blinded them, but they did catch sight of buildings looming all around like shadows. Hamish dropped through, shifting right to avoid some lower houses, and found a wide open space. The Hawk thumped down hard on a cobbled plaza, empty of people. Connor doubted anyone had heard the thrusters through the wind.

  Hamish sighed and leaned back in his chair. “That was worse than digging ourselves out of that manure pile.”

  Connor laughed. “I’d totally forgotten about that.”

  Aifric grimaced. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  Grinning, Hamish explained. “When we were six, we wanted to be adventurers, but our mothers wouldn’t let us leave the fields around town. So we decided to tunnel into a huge mound of composted manure and dig out a cave in the middle. Figured no one would bother us there.”

  Aifric laughed. “I guarantee you would’ve been alone.”

  Connor said, “Unfortunately, the mound was not exactly stable so as soon as we dug four feet into it, our tunnel collapsed on top of us.”

  Hamish grimaced. “Everything I ate for a week afterward tasted like moldy compost.”

  She frowned. “What made you think about that in the middle of a snowstorm?”

  Hamish laughed. “As if I could explain. I thought girls were supposed to be champions of intuitive leaps. Now you know how weird it feels trying to keep up.”

  They donned heavy jackets, then Hamish dropped the front window shield. As soon as they clambered out, he restored it. At Connor’s questioning look he said, “I don’t want anyone stealing our food. That stash was a gift from the people of Althing. I wouldn’t want it wasted on just anyone.”

  “Good point.”

  They discovered they’d landed in a side courtyard of the northern wing of the main palace. The first three doors into the palace that they tried were all locked and no one answered their knocking.

  Finally, they circled around to the main entrance hall and pushed open one of the huge doors there. Two sleepy guards roused themselves to help slam the doors shut. Only then did they challenge them.

  “General Connor here to see General Rory,” Connor said in a crisp, authoritative voice. “Quick, man. Take me to him.”

  “General Rory’s not in the palace at this hour, sir. Best bet for finding him is in his office in the military command building.” He pointed back out the doors. “Across the square, past the Hall of Lords. It’s the big castle with four turreted towers to the south of the training fields.”

  The other soldier considered them suspiciously. “Why doesn’t a general know that?”

  Connor gave him a disgusted look. “Last time I visited Merkland, I spent most of my time with High Lord Dougal.”

  The first guard said quickly, “If you wish to speak with Lord Nevan, his palace is east of the command center, across the speedcaravan tracks.”

  “Thank you.” Connor spun and led the way back out into the storm. The blowing snow and darkness made it hard to find their way, but they eventually found the command building with the help of a couple other soldiers they ran into on patrol.

  It really did look like a castle, although it lacked an outer curtain wall or moat. It reared out of the snowy darkness in six imposing stories of thick stone, with crenelated towers and a parapet along the roofline.

  Inside the main gate, they were again challenged by a pair of guards, who seemed a bit more competent. Before they could digest the fact that Connor wasn’t wearing a uniform under his coat, he called upon limestone to make his eyes glow as he again ordered them to lead him to General Rory.

  They seemed willing to believe him and summoned a third soldier to take them up to Rory’s office on the top floor. The hallways of the castle were mostly bare stone, with the occasional military-themed tapestry. Lanterns lined the walls precisely every thirty feet. The air was noticeably chillier than in the main palace even though every fireplace was lit and additional brass braziers of coals were positioned e
very fifty feet.

  Connor wouldn’t be surprised if they still needed the Firetongues to help take the worst of the chill off. Heating the huge building in that kind of bitter cold must be a constant challenge. His family’s home in Alasdair had always felt snug and warm, but their entire house would fit inside many of the vaulted rooms they passed.

  It was early evening and the halls were mostly empty, but they did pass soldiers and servants, all hurrying about their business, most wearing jackets and gloves to keep warm.

  At a junction of four corridors at the base of a long flight of stairs leading up to the higher levels, Aifric stopped. A flicker of worry momentarily crossed her face.

  Her face shuddered as she shifted to the cold-eyed stare of Student Eighteen. “You two go ahead. I have something to deal with.”

  “What?” Connor asked, glancing around but not seeing anyone threatening. That wouldn’t be a great place to get into a fight.

  “It’s a girl thing.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “I’ll find you later.” Then she hurried away down the corridor to the right, not looking back.

  Hamish asked, “What was that all about?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t like it. She looked worried.”

  “And since when does Student Eighteen talk about girl things?”

  The soldier didn’t look happy about the delay. He’d started up the staircase and now looked back from the top, clearly wanting to urge them to hurry, but not quite sure he dared.

  Hamish said, “You go meet with Ivor. You don’t really need me the whole time. I’ll keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t let Nuzha out.”

  Then he slipped down the hall after Aifric, moving slow along the wall. He managed to not quite look like he was sneaking. Connor wondered how long it would take for Aifric to spot him.

  Hopefully they were overreacting, but he was glad Hamish was going after her. Connor climbed the stairs quickly and followed the guard deeper into the heart of the palace.