Raaf shook his head, and Zwaantie waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. She took a deep breath. If time wasn’t so short, she wouldn’t bother asking this now, but they’d already wasted a good half hour. Who knew much longer they had.
“The mage wagon is here. We’re going to see the show. Do you want to come?” The mage wagon was one of her favorite things to see. They always did magic that was typically forbidden in Sol.
He wrinkled his nose. “No, why would I want to do that?”
Her stomach clenched. She and Raaf had always gone to see the mage wagon together. He lay on the couch with his eyes closed. His hair was a mess, his jaw still tense. He was probably still upset by the child. He could use the time to get out and relax.
“We always go together.” The last time they went was right before he left for his training. That year the mages brought fireworks. Even in the bright light they were spectacular. Raaf chased her around with a sparkling stick, laughing. She missed his laugh.
“When we were kids. Don’t you think you are a little old to be doing things like that? What will the people think, seeing their soon-to-be queen frequenting such a questionable venue?”
She shrank away, hurt. Sure, the Voice always gave small warnings when they got close to the wagon, but she didn’t think it was that bad.
For a half second she debated starting the argument they’d gotten into at dinner last night, the one about the virtues and vices of magic. If Raaf had been the heir to the throne, he’d rid the kingdom of all magic and seal the border so Stellans couldn’t trade with them. Good thing she was the heir. That was one thing she was looking forward to. She’d allow more magic.
Time was slipping away. The mage wagon never stayed long.
“Can Phoenix at least come with us?”
“Yes, but act like a princess,” he said with a glare.
He was in a bad mood. She stood and left the room before he said anything more.
She waited down the hall for Phoenix. He came around the corner, and Zwaantie couldn’t help but smile. He was so handsome.
“Raaf said you could go to the mage wagon with us.”
They took off down the hall, and Zwaantie resisted the urge to grab Phoenix’s hand. The Voice would give her a thorough telling off, and she wasn’t in the mood to listen to it and feel the pain that would follow.
Luna stood by the side doors with a basket under her arm.
“No Raaf?”
“Nope. Everything go okay with the slavemaster?”
“Yes. She’ll be working as a serving maid.”
“Thank you.” Relief placated some of Zwaantie’s guilt. It was strange, feeling guilty without the influence of the Voice. She wasn’t sure why she felt guilty. It wasn’t her fault the woman sold her daughter off to the slavemaster, but she still felt responsible for some reason.
They’d planned on walking to the wagon, but sitting just outside the front doors was a royal carriage, complete with a footman.
Zwaantie rolled her eyes. Raaf. He’d make sure she acted like a princess.
Fine. She put on her best smile and took the outstretched gloved hand of the footslave. They would arrive at the wagon with fanfare and announcement. They’d be lucky if it was still there by the time Zwaantie showed up. Certain magic was allowed in Sol, but the mage wagon always bordered on breaking the law. The mages wouldn’t want the rulers of Sol watching them.
The wagon arrived with great fanfare and fun, probably so that all the merchants would know they were there. They came twice a year and negotiated with the merchants for food in exchange for potions and a few other things. The rest of the year, the merchants waited by the wall for unmanned carriages. They would unload the goods and fill the carriage up with food to send back.
They rattled along the cobblestoned street and passed small homes and farms. The horses frolicked in the fields, and the cows mooed unceremoniously, but the people on the streets dropped everything when the carriage approached, knelt, and pressed their faces to the ground.
As the carriage got closer to the wall of mist, the houses grew farther and farther apart. Farmers didn’t like their cattle wandering too close to the wall between the two kingdoms. They disappeared too often. Sometimes because of their own stupidity and sometimes because of Stellan bandits. The wagon was set up in an empty field about a hundred yards from the mist. Zwaantie only saw the wall a few times a year. It always took her breath away.
The wall extended the length of Sol. No one ever found the end of it. Explorers tried on occasion, but none ever returned. The wall disappeared into the sky, inky black and swirling. Wisps of black smoke occasionally shot out about ten feet. If it caught a person, it would drag them into its depths and make them go mad with memories. Eventually, the mist would spit out those it captured, but they wouldn’t have any memory of who they were or where they came from.
Stellans crossed the barrier, but only if they clung to the Rod of Lost Memories so they wouldn’t lose their way or spend too long inside. Solites never ventured to the other side. The Voice forbade it.
The sun was high in the sky when they arrived at the field. Though aside from the midnight hours when the sky went gray, the sun was always high in the sky. Sweat appeared on Zwaantie’s forehead almost immediately. It was warmer near the border than by the castle.
The carriage stopped next to the edge of the field. Luna, Phoenix, and Zwaantie climbed down the stairs. Zwaantie sighed as she took the hand of the footslave.
People sank deep onto the ground as Zwaantie strode past. She wished she could hide amongst the slaves like Luna and Phoenix, but she was cursed with royalty.
The wagon in the center of the field appeared stranger than normal. A shimmering clear bubble surrounded it. People entered the bubble like it wasn’t there. How odd. The Voice berated Zwaantie as she got closer.
Evil things reside in there. Go home.
“I’m not doing anything wrong,” she said. Luna looked at her funny, and Zwaantie pointed to her head. Luna nodded.
True, but you are flirting with an act of disobedience. Go home.
“How would you know? Now be quiet until you have something real to berate me for.”
Zwaantie walked straight through the bubble without hesitation, followed by Luna and Phoenix. She stopped short just inside, and Luna ran into her.
Everything was dark, and she couldn’t see. Fear clutched at her throat. She hated the dark. She inched forward and felt Luna grab for her hand. It was virtually silent inside the bubble.
After about thirty seconds, Zwaantie’s eyes adjusted and shapes appeared. It wasn’t completely dark. It only appeared that way because they’d come out of the sunlight. A small light ball hung in one corner, and thousands of other tiny lights were scattered along the bubble.
The wagon sat in the middle with a few magic lights floating around it. Luna gasped and sunk to the ground.
“Oh, stars,” she breathed.
“What?” Zwaantie asked.
Then she understood. The bubble was a replica of the Stellan sky. The stars glittered against the blackness, and the moon provided more light than Zwaantie thought was possible.
She sat on the ground next to Luna, her eyes wide, and let out a laugh.
“Luna, it’s the stars.”
Luna smiled.
Phoenix settled on the grass on Zwaantie’s other side. She wanted to grip his hand, but she wouldn’t risk that in public.
“I never thought I’d see them again,” Phoenix said.
“I never thought I’d see them at all,” said Zwaantie.
All around, people entered the bubble and had similar reactions. They fell to the knees, and mouths dropped open.
“It looks the same. I’d forgotten, but this brings back many memories,” said Luna.
“Yes, it does. Do you ever want to go back?” Phoenix asked, his shoulders relaxed and a lazy grin on his face.
She snorted. “Yeah, right. Like that would be possible.�
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Zwaantie’s stomach churned. They weren’t allowed to go home. Ever. Of course she wasn’t allowed to go over there either, but at least she was in her own home.
“Is it like this in Stella?” Zwaantie asked, pointing at the stars.
“Sort of. These are so close. In Stella, they feel much farther away. But the patterns are the same. Look, there’s Orion’s belt. He was always my favorite gaw—I mean star.”
“Is it this quiet in Stella too?” Zwaantie wasn’t used to the peace.
Luna scrunched her nose. “It’s not that quiet right now.”
Phoenix pointed to his head. “She means in here.”
He was right. It wasn’t physical noise Zwaantie couldn’t hear, but the Voice was gone. She scrambled to her feet. It was common knowledge that the Voice didn’t exist in Stella. The hair on her neck and arms stood straight up, and she shivered. If they could create a way for Stellans to be in Sol without hearing the Voice, then they could attack Sol. Sure, it was a weird magical bubble, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t use the magic.
A couple of hundred years ago, the Stellans tried taking over Sol, but as soon as they crossed the barrier, the Voice commanded them to stop. They stood there like cows waiting for the butcher. The Solite soldiers slaughtered them, and an uneasy truce formed. Now Stellans only crossed the border when they needed food.
Zwaantie left Phoenix and Luna watching the stars and approached the wagon. Most of the magic the Solites purchased from Stella consisted of potions. Spells didn’t work unless they were first cast in Stella. Unless a spell was in the form of a potion or attached to an object, it wouldn’t work in Sol. The wagon usually pushed the boundaries of magic allowed in Sol. The Voice allowed potions, but discouraged them. If someone tried anything more, they’d be in pain for a week from the Voice. Only the bravest Solites purchased spells from the mage wagons. But this was also where the majority of their medicines came from, so it was allowed.
Zwaantie couldn’t find a mage anywhere. She hadn’t planned on buying anything other than potions, but now she wanted to make a very big purchase. Low voices floated around from the back of the wagon, and she stopped to listen.
“We can’t sell these with her here. She’ll go snitching to the king.” The voice was soft, female.
“We spent months perfecting them. They are our money makers this year.” This came from a male with a deep voice.
“Let’s figure out what she wants to buy and get her out of here so that we can start trading,” the female said.
Zwaantie peeked around the corner to see if she could make out what they were arguing over. What could they possibly want to sell that was so bad they didn’t want her to see? Zwaantie came every time they were in town. That was no secret.
The male mage took a handful of necklaces from the female and shoved them in his pocket. Zwaantie hurried around the wagon.
“I would like to purchase one of those,” Zwaantie said.
Both mages looked up with eyebrows raised. The male recovered first. “One of what?”
“Those necklaces.”
He reached for a different necklace from the wagon. It was made of jewels and glowed. “This necklace is a rare piece of work. It will light up any dark room.”
Zwaantie placed her hands on her hips. “Not that one, one that you have in your pocket.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you are talking about.” A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead, but he kept his body relaxed. He was good.
“You shoved a bunch of necklaces into your pocket. I want one of those.”
He reached for his pockets and turned them inside out to show her that he had nothing. Sneaky little devil. She’d lost this one. But then she remembered why she’d come looking for them in the first place.
“I want to buy the stars. I’ll give you one year of royal food.”
“This dome? You want to buy the dome?”
“Yes. And I’ll give you an extra half year if you come set it up for me.”
He glanced at his companion. She shook her head. “It’s not for sale.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Of course, Your Highness, but this is just an illusion. It only works for a short amount of time. By the time we got it to your home, it would be all but gone. And we don’t feel right taking such a large sum of food for something so fleeting,” the girl said with a sigh. She meant she didn’t want to get her tail handed to her when she came back to town. “However, we do have something else that might interest you. Something that will last longer.”
She snapped her fingers, and a table appeared in front of her. Zwaantie’s heart stopped for a second. “You can’t do magic in Sol.”
The mage’s face fell, but she didn’t miss a beat. “Of course not. But the illusion allows us to perform magic under the dome. Again, it’s temporary. The table, Your Highness.”
At Zwaantie’s feet sat a low table, oblong in shape. The surface gleamed black. It appeared to reflect the dome above with sparkly stars and a crescent moon.
“It’s a reflecting table?” Zwaantie asked.
“No, it’s a replica of the sky. The moon will change shape with the actual moon.”
Oh, this was good.
“Yes, I’ll take it. Half a year of royal food?”
“Three quarters,” countered the male mage.
“Done.”
“But we’d like to be paid in merchant food,” he replied. Royal food was higher quality but by using merchant food, they’d get more.
“Of course. Phoenix,” Zwaantie called.
“Yes.” He appeared at her side almost instantly.
“Go fetch the footslaves to gather my new table. It’s time to go.” She would inform the trade master of her deal, and they would make sure the food was delivered throughout the year.
Zwaantie looked over her shoulder just before she left the bubble. Both mages watched her. She was insanely curious what those necklaces were that they were going to sell, and she worried what it meant. Stella usually didn’t pose a threat, but today not only did they find a way to turn off the Voice, but they were selling objects they did not want her seeing. Perhaps Stella was more of a threat than she originally thought.
Chapter 11
The Task
The Voice looked around the crowded workroom and at the discarded lists he’d picked up from the box outside his door. The room was tall, three or four stories. Glowing orbs hung in the air like thousands of tiny suns, filling the space all the way up to the ceiling. The orbs ranged in size from pebbles to the carriage-sized bright white ball that hovered a few inches off the ground. A few tables were scattered along the walls, piled high with papers. The orbs moved out of the way as the Voice moved through the room.
This was the only place in all of Sol where spells could be cast. Though the magic was quite different than that of Stella. Stellan magic was wrong and went against nature. Through the Voice, Sol’s magic ensured the obedience and passivity of the people. It provided order.
The Voice controlled it all. The ball in the center, the one the size of a carriage, managed the collective conscience of Sol, but the other smaller ones influenced individuals. Earlier today the Voice had been given a list of people who needed whispers added to their balls, but the list lay on the table forgotten. During the years the Voice had been in control, not one other person had ever found or entered this room. It should’ve been impossible. But today, the Voice had a visitor.
She delivered a life-changing message that was as vague as it was apocalyptic.
“Zwaantie,” the Voice commanded, and Zwaantie’s orb, along with those who were close to her, zoomed toward him.
The Voice studied her glow. She wielded more influence than she realized. She was beloved by those around her, but the Voice made sure she stayed humble. She’d been a challenge to restrain, but the Voice had done a good job growing her into the right kind of queen for her people. One that listened and was not overly con
fident. The Voice loved Zwaantie more than she knew.
Now she threatened everything.
Though the visitor had been cryptic, one thing she’d made clear was that the Voice would die.
Unless Zwaantie died first.
The Voice did not want Zwaantie to die, but sometimes sacrifices needed to be made to save the kingdom. If the Voice had an orb, it would be among those closest to her. Zwaantie’s death would be difficult, but the Voice would do what was necessary.
Murder would be unheard of in Sol. The Voice would have to be careful so that it would not appear as if the Voice lost control of a person. Zwaantie’s death would have to be carefully planned. The Voice moved around the orbs that surrounded Zwaantie. It would also have to be someone who was compliant and eager to follow the Voice’s command.
The Voice smiled at the orb that circled closest to Zwaantie. That one would be perfect.
Chapter 12
The Problem
On the carriage ride home, Phoenix chatted easily about his memories of Stella. Under normal circumstances, Zwaantie would’ve been all over their conversation, but right now she was distracted. She stared out the window as the small houses and shops passed by. This was her kingdom. One she would be in charge of someday. A task she didn’t want. Especially now.
The Stellan mages found a way to do magic inside Sol. They said it wouldn’t last long. But they could do it. And if they could do magic inside Sol, then they could attack. Casting the spell was an entirely different than potions. It wasn’t possible in Sol. At least not until now. And those necklaces—they must’ve been something evil as well. What was so bad about them that they thought she’d tell her father?
Once back at the castle, the footslaves took her table to her room. Luna and Phoenix followed her through the front doors. Zwaantie normally took the back doors, but she had to talk to Mother and Father, and this was the easiest way to get to them. She held up her skirts and marched up the stairs. As she neared the top, slaves opened the doors, and Zwaantie strode through the empty grand hall and out a side door to the meeting room.
Stella and Sol Box Set Page 7
