by R. J. Price
“You said those weren't spirits, though,” Jer said.
“Queens,” Ervam said, picking up the ring. “This was your mother's. She said her father's family had passed down the ring. It can be used, if one has access to magic, and knows how.” He paused and focused on the ring. Aren's voice drifted through it. She was talking to Mie about the fire. When he looked over at Av, the voice drifted off to nothing.
“What was that?” Av said, fear trickling into his voice.
“Aren,” Ervam said quietly. “Kaydez is what the oldest records call it. Translates to queen's stone. It can detect, and reflect, the rank of your fair lady. When the throne had a need, but there were none within reach, the lords would take rings such as these and search their lands, delivering every ranked lady they found to the palace. Some would use it to search out, or even verify the claim of, weaker ones. Once it was tradition that lords only married the rank.”
“That's ridiculous,” Jer said.
“How do you think they became known as queens?” Ervam snapped at Jer. “Use your head, boy. Couldn't call them ladies, the title existed long before they were recognized. Use this on a belly and it will tell you if you've a daughter. During the times when the ranks all had magic, when there was all sorts overflowing, they could use this stone to store their magic.”
“You're joking,” Av said. “Magic cannot be stored. That's not how it works.”
“These were very strong queens,” Ervam said. “The type who united all the lands and powered everything. From the Northern Wastes to the South, from the Eastern Coast to the Impassable Marshes—everything. If those queens had wanted to live forever, I'm sure it was well within their abilities.”
There was silence as the information sunk in for Av. Ervam waited longer, as he often did when he was waiting for a question to come up that he knew one of them would end up asking.
“Why does the spirit cave make folk go crazy?” Av asked.
“What's the bad about this?” Jer said. Always seeing things from a different angle than Av could, Jer was watching the stone as if it might bite him at any moment. “It speaks the voices of queens, but is it actually their voices?”
“Sometimes it is their voices,” Ervam said. “You ever stand near Em and see her get that look on her face, the one right before she picks something up and goes looking for trouble?”
“Yes, of course. She took a poker to the back of a lord's head for molesting one of her handmaids,” Jer said.
“Seriously?” Av asked. “Why didn't you report that to me?”
Jer shrugged to the question. “I thought death by poker was punishment enough.”
“They can sometimes feel trouble, almost as if drawn to it, but really their rank does that,” Ervam said carefully. “Those who would cause problems tend to reveal themselves around queens. The first sign of rank is watching for one lady connected to many problems not of her own making.”
“Such as a lord drawing a ward off who would normally be missed?” Jer asked.
“Or a kitchen master stabbing someone for no apparent reason,” Av added.
“When they get like that, the stone can speak their thoughts. If, for instance, Mar was linked to Aren, they were good friends, and Aren were in trouble while wearing a piece of this jewelry, Aren might say she heard Mar warn her against danger.”
“Again, where's the bad in this?” Jer asked again. “Why doesn't every ranked member of society wear it? It sounds fantastic.”
“Those who could mine this stone are long dead,” Ervam said to Jer.
“Is it harder than stone?” Av asked.
“No, no more dense than diamond. You take enough weight to the ring and it will shatter just the same as any other stone ring,” Ervam said with a nod. “The problem is the uncut stone, that which is still connected to the living earth, makes folk go mad. Rank and title make no difference. Queen or warrior, no difference.”
“Magic can make any go mad,” Av said, picking up the ring once more. “But you would think ones like Aren would go unaffected.”
“Mad as could be,” Ervam said with a growl. “Not only mad, but with all the magic of the throne backing them. Most, though, die within the first five days. Waste away almost like consumption. Those who survive consumption have a stronger ability to withstand the lethal portion of the stone's properties. Which means they begin to go mad. Might not be today, or tomorrow, or next year, but eventually she will slide into madness.”
“Surely not everyone,” Av said.
“One,” Ervam said, holding up a finger, “survived and did not go mad, died of something worse than consumption. She passed the stone's properties onto her children, but it was not quite as strong, and on to their children. For a while consumption was not felt.”
“Why do they survive if they've had consumption?” Jer asked.
“Same way consumption never hits the same person twice, I suppose,” Ervam responded.
Jer looked at the ring in Av's hand, frowning deeply as he did so. “The stone is the cause of consumption. I thought it was just dirty water runoff, from old mining equipment left in the mountains.”
“Which is why we had the mines buried without explaining the cause. There was some hope that we would rediscover how to mine the stone. Once cut from the earth, it is a lovely thing, and frankly cutting it from the earth would be a blessing.”
“Why were the mines only recently filled in?” Av asked. “I'm assuming that it was done shortly after mother passed, but why did no one make that link before and do just that?”
“We had no idea where the mines were,” Ervam said to Av. “Back in the older times, a queen or two removed the records in hopes of protecting the mines until a stone-cutter could be found. As soon as we found them, while your mother was still alive, we began filling them, but there were many mines. We missed one. Filling them in prevented water from running out of the caves and directly into the spring runoffs that come down into the creeks, then to our drinking water.”
“Burying the mines would mean the same thing, wouldn't it?” Av asked.
“No, there are folk who know these things,” Ervam said. “The water now travels through a layer of rock and then charcoal, then more rock and more charcoal, a filtration system built into the mines.”
“Consumption came back and if water comes in through the walls then it can exit just as well through the floor,” Jer said. “The same thing would happen.”
“The walls, the floor, most of the ceiling is coated with the stuff. Water only gets in through the ventilation shafts that were dug into the mines, and those were also filled.” Ervam scratched at his forehead. “When we made the plans, a few of the older folk came forward, talking about weather patterns. Every couple of decades there's a wetter winter than normal. More snow falls, and then the spring comes on fast, melting everything.”
“A great, soggy mess,” Av said. “Lady Aren arrived just as things were drying up. It was early spring, but the weather was a good deal warmer than normal. We had already taken to the training yards, rather than the inner halls of the palace. It was a smaller outbreak, which means it didn't come from ground water. How did Aren take sick?”
“Brought it with her?” Ervam asked Av.
“No,” Jer shook his head. “She was at the palace two months before she caught it.”
“Lord Worl, then,” Av suggested in answer to his own question. “If he brought water from the spirit cave, is that possible?”
Ervam was quiet for a moment. “Was he mad?”
“Absolutely,” Jer said.
“I damned well hope so,” Av muttered.
“Then it's very possible he was trying to spread disease. Get one person sick—a person no one really notices—and you can bring the palace to its knees with an outbreak. When you wrote me, Av, you said that only three were contagious?”
“Four, maybe,” Av said.
“What's the difference? Av has yet to explain that to me, or how he knows the differe
nce.” Jer shook his head. “Doesn't everyone with it pass it on? Like a cough or a fever?”
“No, consumption isn't like a cold,” Ervam said. “It's caused by the stone. Typically those who are contagious are those who have magic of their own.”
“A commoner was ill and I thought Aren a commoner at the time,” Av said. “That should have been warning enough for me.”
“Boy, what idiot told you commoners can't have magic?”
“But only queens—”
“What moron told you all queens have magic?” Ervam asked, irritated. “Telm is a queen, but she has no magic or if she does it's very little. That's why she turns down the throne.”
“If the stone causes consumption and surviving consumption means a less likelihood of dying from the living stone, does that mean that the death rate for spirit caves is the same as that for consumption?” Jer asked.
Av stared at the table, a memory nagging at him. Whatever it was, too much had taken place between then and the conversation being had for him to recall.
“One in a hundred might survive,” Ervam said.
All were quiet, all eyed the ring as if it might bite them at any moment. Av had to beat down the urge to offer to find the closest volcano to throw the ring into. The stone was spread throughout the land, destroying one ring wouldn’t stop it.
“You keep using the word ‘living’,” Av said.
“Everyone refers to rock still in the earth as living,” Jer corrected.
“I call it living because the oldest ones, the ones before those who could” —Ervam motioned to the ring— “mine the stuff, said that the stone was named, not because of its interaction with queens, which wasn't discovered until it was mined, but because it grows.”
“Our best jeweller says the same about any rock,” Jer said.
Ervam was silent for a time, an indication that he wanted the full attention of both Jer and Av. “Unless a queen sits the throne, the stone continues to grow. Worl's spirit cave is new, it wasn't there before. His father and I were friends, when we first came to court. I went to the land often, before I bought this piece of land, there was no spirit cave there. Certainly none of this or I would have had him bury it when we buried the others. Just an ordinary mound, carved out by some older hand.”
“I don't understand,” Av said. “The cave must have been there. You can't have been all over that land.”
“I was all over that land.” Ervam growled at Av. “Worl's father was a commoner, but he was sensitive to my plight: being young without anyone like yourself, needing to run, but being bound to the palace. He took me out there to allow me to run.”
“But we only ever run while hunting one another,” Jer said quietly.
“That's true.”
“Who did you hunt?” Jer asked Ervam.
“Who do you think?” Ervam asked. “I'm telling you the cave wasn't there.”
“Stone doesn't grow that fast,” Av protested.
“I'm telling you that this stone does, but only under very special conditions. The throne must be empty, or be sat by someone who has little magic, but still can hold the throne,” Ervam said, rapping his knuckles on the table to silence their protests. “I tell you the truth of the matter. A man who is told the truth but refuses to accept it is just as accountable as the man who commits the crime.”
Both fell silent. Ervam looked between them, annoyed, and then sighed out.
“Your lady, Av, wants the throne destroyed, but have either of you considered the fact that if there were a way to destroy the throne, and keep the world safe, we would have done it already?” Ervam asked them. “Do you really think that we want to see our mates and mothers, our daughters and nieces, sit the throne and lose their lives for nothing more than a bit of damned magic? For some lights and running water?”
“Our people have a long history,” Jer said quietly.
“A strong queen can reverse the stone's encroachment. It's not easy, but can be done.”
“Why didn't you tell us about this before?” Av demanded.
He wanted to fight something, wanted to challenge something. The ring couldn’t be destroyed, but his father was capable of holding his own. Av growled, not at Ervam but at the ring, showing what he was actually irritated at while still challenging his father.
“I thought Jer knew,” Ervam said. “After all, this is written in the queen's library off Em's rooms.”
“What library?” Jer asked.
“They don't sleep in the same rooms, Father,” Av said.
Ervam groaned. “I know that now, I didn't before. Neither of you have mentioned that in the past decade, though I had wondered.”
“Wondered what?” Jer asked.
“Why I've not had you come to me before, with questions,” Ervam said. “It is your duty as mate to the throne to ensure there is an heir. Whether it is your blood or not. It is your duty to ensure that she gets with child because sometimes the throne will choose, but not drain, a woman who is capable of birthing the queen the throne wants.”
“You talk as if the throne thinks,” Av asked.
“Of course it thinks,” Jer said to Av. “Her flowers died.”
“In the plot?” Ervam asked. “And she knows what that means, I assume.”
“Yes,” Jer responded. “I pretended not to understand, but I helped mother with the plot often enough to know.”
“What plot?” Av asked.
“There are too many secrets kept too close to the throne,” Ervam muttered. “Unfortunately, it is only the place of the mate to share knowledge. Once your mother had passed, I was no longer able to educate others with what I knew. To do so is treason.”
“What secrets?” Av asked. “And why are there so many secrets?”
“There will be plenty of time for that later,” Ervam said, standing. “Mie and Aren have been outside for some time, by themselves, and if I know Mie, he's got Aren either flabbergasted at this point, or telling him a story that we really must interrupt. Before she gets to the good part.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“And that is how babies are born,” Aren said triumphantly as Ervam approached the fire pit. The man scowled at Aren, but smoothed his features as Mie turned to him. Behind Ervam stood Av and Jer, looking quite upset. Av looked more upset than when he had seen Aren.
Av walked around his father and approached Aren slowly.
“Bedtime, Mie. You will be sleeping in my room. Lady Aren will be taking yours.” Ervam said to Mie. “Is there a problem with that arrangement?”
“No, Father, I will go wash right now,” Mie said obediently before he left, headed for the house.
Ervam glanced at Jer, who looked perplexed and concerned.
“That boy is planning something,” Ervam said quietly. “He hasn't called me 'Father' since he was three.”
Jer could only shrug in response as he took a seat around the fire. “Maybe someone beat some manners into him.”
“No one beats manners into Mie,” Av said absently, taking another seat by the fire. He motioned for Aren to sit before he focused on Jer. “Remember when you tried?”
“He bit me until he drew blood, and gave me a swift kick in a place that I had hoped never to be kicked in,” Jer muttered, leaning back in his wooden chair.
Aren took the seat by Av, the only available seating left. “He is very well-behaved.”
To have the heads of three men snap around that fast could not possibly be natural, Aren thought as the men stared at her. Aren blinked back at them, then shrugged, and picked up a stick to poke the fire.
“Mie bit the last woman I tried to introduce him to,” Ervam said. “So now I know there's a problem. Excuse me, while I go tuck my wayward son into bed.”
Av watched Ervam leave, then turned his full attention to Aren, “How are you feeling? Feverish at all? Weak? Hot? Tired?”
“No,” Aren said. “My appetite is also fine, and my insides are well constructed. What are you getting at?”
<
br /> “I'm just wondering if you were feeling all right,” Av said quietly.
“Why?” Aren asked.
“I can't be worried about you?” Av asked, sounding suddenly irritated.
“No, I mean why are you asking now?” Aren countered. “Asking how I feel is one thing, asking a string of specific questions is quite another.”
“Av, you've a woman with a mind between her ears, you cannot expect her to ignore such questions without a few of her own,” Jer said from across the fire.
Av clenched his jaw. For a long moment Aren thought he would say nothing, then he spoke. “Father is concerned about your time in the cave.”
“Oh, why is he concerned?” Aren asked.
Again the clenched muscles and a long pause before Av spoke. “The cave is filled with a stone that causes consumption.”
Aren's heart skipped a beat. Fear rose in her chest. “I see. That is good cause to ask those questions. If I feel ill, I will let you know.”
“Thank you, that's all I ask,” Av said. “I think it would be ridiculous for you to survive consumption, only to lose your life because a murderous madman set his sights on you. Sometimes, when caught early, consumption can be treated in such a way that a body survives.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Aren said as Ervam approached once more, certain that Av was lying about the treatment. If consumption could be treated there would be fewer deaths.
“Out like a light,” Ervam said. “I suspect his mother let him run on ahead. He tuckered himself out. She typically camps down the way and follows after by about mid-morning.”
She's dead.
While Aren didn't say that out loud, she did have the unsettling moment of questioning whether she had, when all three men turned to her as if she had spoken. Aren closed her mouth and looked between each of the men, daring them to say something.
“You squeaked,” Av said finally.
“Accidentally,” Aren responded quickly. “Perhaps I should turn in. I slept little last night.”
“Of course,” Ervam motioned towards the house. “Follow me, I will show you to your room.”
