Maggie watched the bear trudge away, his belly swaying from side to side. “Stupid people,” he grumbled. “Sometimes I don’t know why I bother. Maybe I’ve had things backward. Did my mother tell me to eat sheep and talk to people, or was it eat people and talk to sheep?” He wandered off.
Maggie tossed on the bed, angry at herself. Everynne, Veriasse, and Gallen would be leaving, and there was a strong possibility that they would be killed. Yet Maggie was lying here pouting. She steeled her nerves, threw off her covers.
Outside, the bright morning suns rose in an amber haze. The water had dropped during the night, revealing a vast beach, wet and gleaming. Already, the children were running out over the sand toward the rocky tidal pools to hunt.
Maggie found Gallen and the others just outside her door, sitting on stone benches in the plaza. Grandmother had three airbikes sitting in the open—machines that were all motor and chrome with a set of stabilizing wings both fore and aft. At Grandmother’s feet sat several packages wrapped in silver foil.
“Ah, Maggie, I am so glad you made it,” Grandmother said, clapping her wrinkled hands. “You are just in time for gifts.” The old woman smiled so graciously that Maggie could not help but believe Grandmother took great pleasure in her company. Indeed, they had spoken together for a long time the previous evening, but Maggie had become so distracted afterward that the pleasantness had been driven from her mind.
Grandmother looked through her packages. “First,” she said softly, “I have a gift for Lady Everynne, who is already rich beyond anything I can offer. Still, I was thinking last night that you will be going to fight the dronon, who esteem their Golden Queen higher than any other.” Maggie looked at the old woman in surprise. She had forgotten that, as a Tharrin, Grandmother had been apprised of Semarritte’s plans. “Since you will be our Golden Queen, you must look the part. I have for you some golden clothes and a mantle of gold.” She brought out two packages. Everynne unwrapped them.
The outfit included long gloves and boots, stockings and a tunic, all in brilliant gold. The small mantle was made of golden ringlets and fit over her hair. “You will find that the gloves and clothing are very tough,” the old woman said. “Almost as tough as symbiotic armor. Often, a dronon queen will defend herself if a Lord Escort chooses to do more than mar her. If you are forced to defend yourself, these clothes will help protect you. In addition, we have bonded a selenium matrix into the fists of the gloves and toes of the boots. A solid blow to a dronon body will let you crack its exoskeleton. “
Everynne thanked Grandmother, and the old woman turned to Veriasse. “For our Lord Protector, I doubt that we have anything on our world that could match the weapons you already bear. And so, I give you a special hope. It is a small thing, but perhaps it will carry you through a dark time.” She handed him a small package, and he opened it. The package contained a crystal vial. Veriasse took out the glass stopper.
Immediately a heavenly scent wafted through the air of the open courtyard, and Maggie was filled with such enthusiasm and a boundless sense of strength that she wanted to leap from her seat with a battle cry. Veriasse suddenly seemed to become a younger man—all the cares and worries that so creased his brow melted away. He threw back his head and laughed deep and easy. In that moment, Maggie had no doubt that Veriasse would slay the Lords of the Swarm. He was a powerful man; he could not fail.
Veriasse stoppered the vial, yet Maggie’s sense of boundless fervor was slow to diminish. From Maggie’s work with the aberlains, she knew that the vial must contain an extract of simple proteins-the chemical components of enthusiasm to act upon the hypothalamus, along with some type of airborne delivery system so that “hope” could be absorbed through the sinus membranes as a person breathed.
And yet, even having some idea how the hope was borne, she couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship inherent in the gift. The artist had combined the hope with some exotic perfume and had probably taken great pains to mix the right proteins so that he could elicit the perfect response.
Grandmother looked over the little group. “For Gallen, the Lady Everynne has asked a special thing. He once asked for eternal life in return for his service. And even though he rescinded his request, he has more than earned his reward. She would like to begin payment.” She lifted a small packet from the ground, handed it to Gallen. “Inside, you will find six tablets containing a full set of nanodoctors. They will help heal your wounds, slow your aging, cure all ills. You have only to swallow the tablets. You will not be immortal, of course. You can be killed. But before you leave here today, we will take a template of your intellect and gather gene specimens. Then, if you should die, we can build you again.”
Maggie knew something of how valuable a gift this would be. Even in Everynne’s world, such things were reserved only for the most deserving. Yet Gallen took the small package, hefted it, then glanced into Maggie’s eyes. He tossed the package to her. “I want you to have this. I wanted it for you all along.”
Maggie sat with the package in her lap, too surprised to reply.
“Ah, a gift of true love,” Grandmother said, and Maggie realized that she was right. Gallen would only give such a treasure to someone he cherished. “I don’t know what to say,” she offered. “Thank you.”
Grandmother patted Maggie’s knee. “I have something for you, but it will not be ready until tomorrow.”
Maggie thanked her, and Grandmother turned to Orick. “And now, for the bear. I have considered many things, but as I talked to you last night, of all the people I have ever met, you seem to be the most self-sufficient. You yourself admit that there is nothing you want or need, although you grumble more than anyone else I know. So, I put the question to you: what one thing would you ask of me?”
Orick stepped forward and licked his lips. “Well, you have a lot of nice things here. The food is good, the music and the company is even better—but I’m just a simple bear from the woods, and the land provides for my needs. I think if there were one thing I’d ask for, it wouldn’t be yours to give.” He looked at Veriasse and Everynne. “I didn’t start this journey because I wanted to, but I’d sort of like to tag along with Everynne and see it through to the end.”
Gallen and Veriasse looked at Everynne, letting her make the decision. Maggie suspected that even Everynne had no idea how much this would mean to the bear. For days now, Orick had been showing her a special kind of devotion, and Maggie suspected that as unseemly as it might appear, the poor bear was as lovesick for the woman as he could get.
“You’ve been a good friend, Orick,” Everynne said. “But if I were to be a true friend in return, I would deny your request. I’ve tried to put a calm face on when speaking of it, but this last portion of our trip will be extremely dangerous.”
“Gallen and I have been in a few tight spots before,” Orick said. “And I’ve always been right there at his side.”
“Please, don’t ask this of me.” Everynne’s eyes misted over. “Orick, I love you. I couldn’t endure the thought that you might get hurt on my account.”
Orick watched her with longing in his brown eyes, turned away. “All right, then,” he said. “If you don’t want me. I’d probably just get in the way.” He turned and began loping back toward Maggie’s room.
“Wait!” Everynne said, and she rushed to him. She got down on her knees and scratched the thick fur under Orick’s ears, then looked into his eyes and said lustily, “If you were a human, or I were a bear, wouldn’t we have a fine time?”
She kissed him on the snout, and Orick’s red tongue flicked out, licked her forehead. Orick gave a sharp little roar of grief and lunged away to Maggie’s room.
Everynne stood watching after him a moment.
Veriasse said, “He’ll be okay. Male bears get used to being sent away by females.” He did not say it to be unkind, merely stated the fact. Young cubs never left their mother voluntarily. Instead, she chased them off. And later, when a male mated, he would usually run wit
h the female until she chased him away.
Everynne nodded wistfully while still watching after Orick.
Grandmother glanced at Everynne. “Do not feel bad. You’ve given him the thing he most wants: your love. It is something I could not give him, and he will treasure it always.”
“Can you give him something more?” Everynne asked. “Will you make him a locket with my image inside? Something to remember me by.”
“Of course,” Grandmother answered.
Everynne and the others prepared to leave. Veriasse began teaching Gallen the basics of riding an airbike. Maggie found it odd that Gallen didn’t know how to ride the thing. She realized that the mantle she wore must have been teaching her in her sleep, for Maggie understood the most intimate workings of the bike, and as she listened to Gallen rev the thrusters, she heard them whine just a bit, suggesting that a turbine wasn’t properly lubricated. She considered pulling out the toolkit stored under the airbike’s seat, just to tinker.
Everynne went to get her pack, and Maggie went to get Gallen’s. Orick, was lying at the foot of the bed. Maggie rummaged through Gallen’s pack until she found Gallen’s defective key to the Maze of Worlds. He’d placed it in his old black leather money purse, drawing the string tight. Maggie removed the key, glanced around the room, looking for something of similar size to put in the key’s place. In one corner was a potted plant with purpling flowers. She removed a flat stone from the plant’s container, placed it in the purse, and returned the purse to the pack.
Orick watched the whole affair, then said, “What are you doing?”
“You want to go with Everynne, and I want to go with Gallen. All we need to follow them is a key.”
“Do you know where they are going?”
“Veriasse was looking over his travel plans last night at the campfire. I watched over his shoulder. My mantle has stored the coordinates of all the gates but the last. We should be able to find them easily.”
“But Veriasse said that using a defective key is risky,” Orick warned, shaking his head.
“Everything we’ve done has been risky,” Maggie shot back. “I’m not going to let that stop me now.” Her mantle could not tell her specifically how the key worked, but obviously an electronic signal unlocked the gate and gave it the coded information on how to make a jump. True, the key was defective, but they hadn’t been hurt in that first jump. Maggie decided that the key time/location send coordinates were probably out of synch with the gate destination decoder. The gate key would simply perform as it had before—sending them back in time as they traveled.
She looked at Orick sharply. “We both know that Gallen and Veriasse think we’ve been as helpful as a pair of mallards on this trip, but even they might need our talents. Are you coming with me, or are you just going to let the woman you love walk out of your life forever?”
“I’m with you,” Orick answered.
“Good,” Maggie said. “Now do me a favor and get out of here. Gallen is going to be coming in for his pack in a minute, and I want some time alone with him.”
“Always being nagged by women,” Orick grumbled as he left the room. “Doesn’t matter if they are human or bears, they’re all the same.”
Maggie stood by the foot of the bed, waited for Gallen to come in. She found her heart pounding, tried to compose something to say, but nothing came to mind. All too soon, he stood in the doorway, a circle of morning light silhouetting him. In his black robes, weapons at hand, the mantle of a Lord Protector on his head, he looked somehow different, strange. No one on Tihrglas had ever worn such clothing, and Gallen seemed to stand taller in his costume, walk in more of a rolling gait. This trip was changing him, leaving an indelible mark, just as it was changing her.
“I’m surprised that you, too, didn’t ask to come with us,” Gallen said after a long moment.
“You wouldn’t have let me,” Maggie said.
“How do you know?”
“You protect people for a living. You’re always watching out for others. You must know that the best way to protect me is to leave me out of harm’s way.”
Gallen smiled weakly. “I’m glad you understand.” He walked over to her, took her by the shoulders and kissed her firmly, passionately. “Everynne told me that you know what happened last night. Can you ever forgive me?”
Maggie was confused, unsure how to answer. She thought—or at least she wanted to believe—that he really did love her. Some things pointed to it—his protectiveness, his tenderness to her now. Yet she couldn’t accept that he would sleep with Everynne one night, then come to her in the morning and try to pretend that nothing had changed. She slapped his face, hard, and it barely moved him, so she punched him in the stomach. “Don’t you ever do that to me again!” she hissed. “Do you understand me? Don’t you ever put me in second place again!”
Gallen nodded, the lines of his face set in hard angles. She couldn’t read what he was thinking. “I know that an explanation will just sound like an excuse, but in all likelihood, by tomorrow night Everynne will either be dead or else so … changed that she will be at least as good as dead to me. She wanted something last night that only I could give. I cannot be sorry for what we did though it pains me terribly to know how it must hurt you. What Everynne and I did last night—that was just saying good-bye.” He considered for a moment, then said, “I will never put you in second place again.”
Maggie studied his face. When Gallen O’Day took an oath, he’d keep it or die trying. She knew that much about him.
“Just promise to come back to me,” she said. Gallen reached out to her, stroked her jaw with one gloved hand. He made no further promises. She fell against his chest and began weeping. Gallen wrapped his arms around her and hugged her until it was time to go.
Orick spent much of the day sleeping, worrying about Everynne. He wanted to leave immediately, but Maggie insisted that they wait until dark to sneak away. Maggie and Orick were both exhausted, so he tried to rest.
In spite of his nervousness, he enjoyed the hospitality of the Cyannesse that day. Once again, the day ended clear and beautiful. He and Maggie ate a sumptuous dinner, and Grandmother announced afterward that an actor wanted them to watch a play he had written in their honor.
So when the campfires had burned low, they watched the actor perform the story of an old man who became lost in a magical wood filled with wise beasts.
The old man worked for a long time, searching for a path home, but by the time the beasts helped him discover that path, he desired only to stay in the forest forever. The old man was tremendously funny, and Orick enjoyed his performance, but the thing that impressed him most was the scenery. The play was set in an open amphitheater, and when a scene changed, an entire forest would grow up as needed, or a moon would rise and shine down on a glen, or a pool of water would begin lapping where only a moment before there was solid ground. The animals, too—the gossiping deer, the overbearing badger—would appear or disappear as needed.
When the play finished, Orick thought longingly of the woods at home, the sweet mountain grasses, the trout-filled streams. Yet when they got back to their room, Maggie asked Orick, “Did you enjoy the play?”
“Och, it was a grand play,” Orick said honestly. “My favorite character was the fox, most amusing.”
“But what of the message of the play? What did you think of it?”
“There was a message?” Orick asked, perplexed.
“Of course there was a message. The actor was asking us to stay. We are the people lost in their magic woods.”
“Oh,” Orick said. “Are you sure? It only made me homesick, thinking of the woods.”
But Maggie seemed sure. She sat on her bed, looking at the box of nanodocs that Gallen had given her, as if wondering whether or not to pack them. Orick asked, “Are you going to eat those?
“Not yet,” she said firmly.
“Why not?”
“Gallen might need them still.”
Orick studi
ed her. She seemed deeply occupied. “If he died, would you take them?”
“No. I don’t think so.” She shoved them into her pack. “You had better get some rest. When the others are asleep, we can go borrow an airbike. There’s got to be one somewhere in town.”
“That would be stealing,” Orick said.
“We’ll bring it back, if there’s any way we can.”
Orick grunted, sniffed the floor, and lay down. He envied Gallen. Not every woman would choose to die if her lover died. No bear would ever do such a thing. The sense of romance behind it overwhelmed him until he almost wanted to laugh with glee. Instead, he lay down and rested.
Half an hour later, Maggie grabbed her pack and whispered, “It’s time to go.” She led him out into the night, under the red moon.
Grandmother sat outside the door, in the moonlight, wearing a deep robe to keep out the night air. “So, you are leaving us so soon?”
“I—” Maggie started. “Please don’t try to stop us.”
Grandmother smiled, her face wrinkling in the dim light. “I was once young and deeply in love,” she said. “And I could never have left the man under these circumstances. Gallen gave me this before he departed.” She handed Maggie the black coin purse. “He said there was a gate key in it, so that you could go home, but I found only a rock. It was not hard to guess who had taken the real key.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Orick asked.
“Veriasse made a map, telling you how to get home, but I am a Tharrin. I cannot stop you from going where you will, so I shall give you your gifts now,” Grandmother answered. She waved toward the shadows of a nearby home. An airbike sat beside the wall, and Grandmother escorted them both across the plaza.
Grandmother hugged Maggie, gave her a piece of bent metal. “I don’t have much in the way of weapons,” she said. “You are going into dangerous territory, and though I abhor violence, this gun might come in handy. Keep it hidden. Also, I have packed some meals for you to eat on the road. They’re in the container under the seat of the airbike.”
The Golden Queen Page 23
