“And it is to here that the king will return. Once, that is, he has achieved his victory.”
“The enemy is reeling, gone from your borders or on the way out,” Vashodia said. “What other victory does he seek?”
“The Panisians are fleeing, that is true. King Chase went south to ensure they never come back.”
“Fool!” cried Vashodia.
“What?” Jasside said. “Seems a sound plan to me.”
“Then you’re just as big a fool as he.”
Jasside glowered down at the mierothi. “Enlighten us with your wisdom, then.”
“Didn’t I tell you? The coalition pulled out too quickly. Too easily. I knew there had to be a reason, but I didn’t count on their strategist to be so shrewd.”
“What are you babbling about?”
“Chase and his army. They’re being drawn into a trap. A trap that would only work if they were separated from their greatest asset.”
Realization struck Jasside like the incoming tide. “Us.”
“Ah, the girl sees at last. I was beginning to worry that all our effortless battles had dulled your wits.”
Jasside decided to let the insult go. She had more pressing concerns. “Prince Daye,” she said, turning to the officer, “did he go with his brother?”
“Yes. He wanted to stay, to wait for you, my lady, but the king insisted.”
“How long ago did they leave?” Vashodia asked.
“Six weeks.”
The mierothi grunted. “Barely left time for the rubble to settle before prancing off to his doom.” She sighed. “Come, apprentice. We have to save another fool king from his own idiocy.”
Vashodia turned to go. Jasside grabbed her arm, wrenching the small figure around. “Why do you even care?”
Eyes like naked spheres peered up at her. For the first time she could recall, her mistress was rendered speechless.
“This obviously means a great deal to you,” Jasside continued. “I’ve held off asking why, but I can’t any longer. I must know your plan for them.”
Vashodia pulled her arm free from Jasside’s grasp. “First off—never grab me like that again. Second, are you asking for the benefit of all the Sceptrines? Or, perhaps, only one?” She smirked. “Has a certain prince caught your fancy?”
Jasside felt a lump in her throat and found it was she who could now find nothing to say. She stepped back, turning her head away.
“I thought as much,” Vashodia said. “Stop trying to hold me hostage with accusations of impure motives. No such thing as altruism exists. Not in you or me. Not in any soul under this or foreign suns.”
Jasside lowered her eyes to the ground, fighting the longing inside her. A longing she didn’t know how to comprehend, much less act upon. “What are we to do, then?”
“Persevere.”
Jasside nodded. Sometimes, things needed to be made simple. This was clearly one of those times.
“Let’s go.”
Together, she and her mistress turned south. They energized, casting their gazes down to the farthest end of the street they could perceive, and began shadow-dashing.
Tassariel lifted the spoon to her mouth, savoring the mouthful of soup. Curried squash with peppers and garlic, and other flavors she didn’t even recognize. A veritable rainbow of tastes exploding in her mouth.
“Did you make this yourself?” she asked after swallowing.
Lerathus smiled. “I’m a man of many talents, Tass. You may even be lucky enough to see them all one day.”
She took another spoonful, fighting the urge to lift the bowl to her lips and start slurping. “You should consider a Calling as a chef. Or have you done that already?”
He waved a hand. “Oh, nothing so formal as that. It doesn’t take a single-minded devotion to become good at something.”
“Not a popular opinion among the leaders of our people.”
“Bah. Old fools set in their ways never like it when the young talk sense.”
Tassariel laughed. “Oh, stop it! No wonder you like it here. All the consular officials I’ve met seem to have a certain, shall we say, rebellious attitude. I’m surprised they haven’t put you in charge.”
“One day, perhaps. Ready for the main course?”
She glanced down at her empty bowl. “Um, yes. Please.”
Lerathus stood and removed the dishes, retreating to his kitchen to snatch the next part of the meal. Tassariel used the opportunity to study his home.
Rich tapestries lined the walls, and pedestals, placed in strategic locations, held carvings in every shape and material imaginable. Candles in ivory holders danced light across dark wood furnishings edged in gold. A layer of some scent suffused the airy chamber, an aroma that drove her mad with . . . something. A feeling she’d never experienced before. All she knew was that the strong lines of Lerathus’s jaw and the hard muscles bunching under his robes drew far more of her attention than normal.
He returned a moment later, placing a plate piled artistically with seared meat. Something dark, drizzled with a fragrant sauce. She leaned into it. Her deep sniff made her dizzy with delight.
“Dig in,” Lerathus said. “It may look fancy, but I can tell you’re famished. No need to act all proper in my presence.” He stabbed his own food with a fork and brought the entire pile of meat to his lips, biting off a chunk to emphasize his point.
Tassariel followed his lead.
It wasn’t until she’d sat back in her seat before a plate licked clean that she regained awareness of the world around her. With both belly and palate satisfied to an unheard of degree, her eyelids threatened to fall closed for good.
“Dessert?” Lerathus asked.
“Oh, gods,” she replied. “I’m not sure I have room for it.”
“We’ll wait a bit, then.” He leaned forward and refilled her wineglass. “It’s better to milk the anticipation anyway. Makes the dish taste even more exquisite once it comes.”
She lifted her glass to him and took a sip. “If it’s anything like the rest of your food, I’ll have to replace my overstimulated taste buds when we’re done.”
“You’re too kind, Tass. Too kind by far. It’s almost a shame.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It would have been nice if you could stay here at the consulate. It would give us more time to . . . get to know each other. Alas, they don’t allow women in foreign posts. Not in any official capacity anyway.”
Tassariel scoffed into her glass, taking a deep gulp of her wine. “A stupid policy.”
“I agree.”
“I mean, I understand the reasoning behind it. Our people have grown thin as it is, but I don’t plan on ever having children, pureblood or otherwise. My parents convinced me it wasn’t a good idea. Not for me.”
“You may change your mind someday.”
“Oh, please, not you, too. Half the reason I sought so desperately to leave my domicile was to escape the plans men had for my life. Plans they didn’t bother consulting me about.”
Lerathus laughed. “Oh, don’t worry yourself in that regard. I’d sooner try to wrestle a crocodile with my bare hands than try to tell you what to do. I’m not trying to change your mind.”
“Then what?”
He shrugged. “Never discount a possibility, Tass, no matter how far-fetched it may seem at the time. Even if you have no intention of stepping through it, some doors, once closed, stay that way for good.”
“Sounds like you’re talking from experience.”
He cast his eyes down and sighed. “All too much of it.”
She reached across the table to pat his arm. Halfway there, a wave of dizziness struck her, and she thought better of it, instead leaning on her elbows and rubbing her forehead.
“Something the matter?” Lerathus said.
<
br /> “I . . . don’t know. Too much wine, maybe? But I’ve only had the one glass.” She studied his face as it began to blur. It seemed sad for some reason—and a little angry. “Weren’t we going to discuss something?” she asked.
“We were,” he said, sounding far away. “But you’ve been a naughty girl, Tassariel, with all your snooping around. And we just can’t have that around here.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Agreements are in place between us and the Panisians. Your every move seems to threaten them.”
“I don’t . . .” know what I’m trying to say. I don’t know why I’m even trying to speak at all. It’s so . . . tiresome. She shook her head, but it only made the dizziness worse, and she slumped forward, slack-jawed, onto the table. Drool dribbled from her mouth. It would take too much effort to close it.
“Help me,” she whispered, but not to Lerathus.
“I’m afraid I can do nothing, my child,” Elos said. “The dark days are upon us, and sooner than I had come to expect. I wonder what else I got wrong. I wonder if I haven’t doomed us all.”
As darkness took her, Tassariel could only marvel at the fact that the god inside her had, somehow, made it all about himself once again.
“Where is she?” Arivana asked, pacing nervously in her bedchamber. “It’s been two days, and no sign of Tassariel. What could have happened to her?”
“I don’t know,” Flumere said, sitting calmly. “But working yourself into a panic won’t help matters any.”
“I know. It’s just . . . I don’t . . . Abyss! What are we going to do?”
“You’re the queen, are you not? How about you remember to act like it?”
“Which version? The ones in all the stories, who were brave and wise and respected? Who had true power and only used it for the good of their nation? Or should I be the queen my council expects me to be? A pretty face to parade before her people? Barely even a symbol? One that gets lied to and kept in the dark on any matter of importance?”
“That, I cannot say. You must decide for yourself.”
Arivana huffed and threw herself down into the chair opposite her handmaiden, an untouched dinner cooling on the table between them. “I know what I want to be. But achieving it is another matter altogether.”
“Are you going to give up, then?”
Arivana couldn’t help but think of Claris, locked away in a nightmare. Her own family butchered and the war to avenge them now in shambles. If only I’d been strong enough. . .
“Never,” Arivana said. “I won’t rest until everything is made right. Not even if it kills me.”
Flumere smiled though tears were forming in the deepness of her eyes. “I know. Somehow, I’ve always known. You prove the worth of my faith in you time and time again, and I will never regret serving you with all my heart. Thank you, my queen . . . and my friend.”
Arivana brought her hands to her trembling lips, feeling her own tears beginning to brim at the sentiment. “Oh, Flumere! What would I do without you?” She dashed over and clutched the woman’s hands, hugging them to her breast.
“You would have found your way just fine, Arivana. I believe that, truly. I’m just glad I get to be a part of it.”
Arivana beamed in delight, but still something nagged at her conscience, a bitterness sapping her joy. “This will all be meaningless if we don’t find Tassariel soon. If something has happened to her . . .”
“I’m sure she’s fine. Why don’t we take a sky carriage to the consulate? If nothing else, they’ll be able to tell us where she is through communion.”
Arivana nodded. “As good a plan as any. Lead the way.”
They left the bedchamber and made their way through the halls. There was no need to take the lift; a berth was on the same level for conveniently catering to royal whims. Emerging into the broad, airy chamber, Arivana was pleased to see a ship moored and ready for flight.
“Honored as ever by your presence, your majesty,” said the attendant, bowing low. “Where would you like to go this evening?”
“The consulate, please.”
“Very good.” The woman scribbled in her ledger, then lifted her gaze with a smile. She gestured towards the entrance ramp. “Right this way please.”
Arivana boarded, with Flumere right behind, and within a mark, the carriage was under way. The pilot remained invisible belowdecks.
Halfway to the consulate, Arivana was leaning on the railing and had just begun to enjoy the breeze through her hair when she noticed something peculiar below her.
“What’s that?” she asked.
Flumere squinted. “I’m . . . not sure. Isn’t that the barracks over there?”
“Yes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost say it looked like . . .”
No. It can’t be.
Her handmaiden finished the thought for her, out loud. “Soldiers on the march.”
Arivana gulped. Her mind seemed unable to keep up with what her eyes were seeing. “There are too many of them. Thousands upon thousands. It must be the entire garrison. Where could they be going?”
“Where else does an army go but to war?”
“We’re already at war. One I thought we were winning. Why would we . . . ?”
She spun, dashing towards the ladder and bending down. “Pilot!” she called.
“Yes?” came the tepid reply.
“We need to change course.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Your majesty.”
“Why not?”
“Regulations. Once a destination is logged, no deviations are allowed. I’d lose my job if I did.”
“I’m the abyss-taken queen! You’ll lose far more than that if you don’t—”
Flumere laid a hand on her arm. Arivana forced herself to take a deep breath. Now I know why the great people in all the stories need someone levelheaded at their side. Flexing their power—no matter its source—never made the situation any better. It only led to grief.
“Listen” she said, “it is of the utmost importance that I make it to the royal barracks as soon as possible. I understand about regulations—I’m as subject to them as you are. But some situations require our ability to reason, to use judgment. Otherwise, we’re a nation of laws, not of people. Look below—doesn’t that concern you?”
For almost an entire mark, the pilot made no response, and Arivana thought for sure he was done talking. When she next heard his voice, it was with the greatest relief.
“Yes, your majesty. It concerns me. I’ve a niece in the army, wrath-bow corps. Not a very good shot, but then again, you don’t have to be with those things. We’re not the closest of relatives, but I’m sure I would’ve heard something about her marching out. This all seems . . . odd.”
“Odd indeed,” Arivana said. “And I plan to get to the bottom of it. To do that, I need you to change course now.”
He thought for a spell. Then the pilot said, “Yes, your majesty.”
Arivana smiled as the ship lurched beneath her, changing course and heading straight towards the barracks.
It seemed like only moments later they were disembarking. Arivana thanked the pilot before he took off. She didn’t know his name and had never seen his face, but she wondered if he hadn’t been the first true citizen to wholeheartedly serve his queen. She wondered if this is what it meant to rule.
A few quick queries directed them down a hall past the uncountable throngs still making their way out of the barracks. Three turns brought them to their destination. Four sentries stood guard outside the thick metal doors, but they saluted at her approach and pulled them open without a word. She stepped past them, fear climbing up her throat as her imagination conjured the worst possible version of what she might find inside.
The sight that greeted her was stranger than she had thought
possible.
Arivana blinked several times, squinting to make sure her sight did not deceive. Her mind kept telling her that she’d walked into the council chambers, for every member was present, standing roughly in a circle. But nothing else was the same. Instead of their traditional robes, they were all dressed in golden plate mail marked with glowing, magic-forged crests of their station. Commander’s swords, gemmed and glittering in globelight, sat unsurely in each sheath. Between them floated an image of light cast into the shape of the known world. Tiny red and blue markers dotted the surface. Allied and enemy troop locations, she guessed.
A long, thick line of blue inched away from Panisahldron, crashing north to meet a descending wall of red.
“What is going on here?” she demanded.
All the councilors turned at her outburst, and she knew immediately that she’d made a mistake. Tior sighed, raising his hands towards the others in a placating gesture. They faced the map once more, ignoring her presence completely. Tior folded his hands and slowly walked towards her.
He stopped a pace away, careful to block as much of her view as possible. “What are you doing here?” he said.
Though every fiber of her being wanted to fly into a rage, she knew that would achieve only the opposite of her desire. Shaking with the effort to control her emotions, Arivana said, “I asked a question, Minister. I believe a queen, at the very least, should have the courtesy of being answered first.”
The corner of Tior’s eye twitched. “Very well. Your majesty. You wish to know what we’re doing here? I’ll tell you. We’re marching off to fight your war.”
“My war, is it now? Seems to me you’ve taken considerable liberties in its execution.”
“You would chastise me? For seeking to shield you from the realities—the horrors—inherent in such an endeavor?”
“Spare me,” she said, holding up a hand. “I’m done with your manipulations. I’m done with the lies. And I want this war to end. Now.”
Tior’s shoulders slumped, and the strength seemed to fade from his normally rigid posture. It was only an instant, though, before he returned to his normal posture. “You’ve grown bold lately, and that valynkar girl is to blame I think. It’s my fault for not removing her sooner.”
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