The Silver Star (Kat Drummond Book 11)

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

  Allandrea frowned, as she handed Ithalen back to me.

  “The War Court does what it feels is necessary. But enough of that. Back to Nimue’s blessing. Your sword – Ithalen – is a magical blade. Not merely enchanted. It was never forged. Never mere metal. Nimue willed it into existence, as she did her island. And she willed it to fit your powers. She must know something about the Vessel, and it’s for that reason she made you her Champion and made this sword able to interact with your powers.”

  I examined my blade, feeling its value to me grow even stronger.

  “What can it do?” I asked, with a hint of awe.

  Allandrea, surprisingly, shrugged. “I do not know. But, for now, we know that Treth can hold the blade, and manifest it at will without physically moving it.”

  I looked at Treth, who looked surprised.

  “A teleporting sword would be neat. And…Treth, do you think you could sheathe it?” I asked.

  “One way to find out.”

  He manifested next to me, as I handed him the blade. As if magic, because it was, the blade became semi-translucent.

  He looked at his waistband, sheepishly.

  “I don’t have a scabbard for it.”

  “Try this,” I said, hastily removing Ithalen’s scabbard from my belt.

  I handed it to him, and it too went semi-translucent. With fussing unbecoming of a spirit, Treth finally attached the scabbard to his belt and sheathed Ithalen.

  He looked up, abashed. “Now what?”

  “Manifest somewhere else, then come back with the sword. If you can hold the sword and bring it to me at will, then I could sneak it into places. I’d never be caught by surprise again.”

  “And I’d be your dutiful squire?”

  “Aren’t you already?”

  Treth made a face but then did as I asked and manifested outside. What a good little squire!

  I felt his presence outside the door, in the hallway, and then he manifested back. I stretched out my hand and, in a flash, a spectral blade fell into my open hand, suddenly gaining weight.

  All three of us beamed with satisfaction, as the door was flung open.

  A red attired Lianthorn, his face blazing with rage and just a hint of terror, came striding into the room. He wore a more traditional elven tunic, its small cape fluttering behind him.

  He saw me and the queen standing there, and then saw the naked blade in my hand.

  He reached for his own.

  “Enough of that!” Allandrea ordered, then spoke harshly in elvish. It still sounded like honey to my ears.

  Treth offered my scabbard and I sheathed it. Lianthorn took a step back as he saw Ithalen disappear into the void. I repressed a grin. This was going to be great!

  Lianthorn seemed to recover from his shock and his face regained that cloud of crimson anger. He looked at me and then the queen.

  “My queen…the humans are mustering.”

  He spoke English. It meant he wanted me to know what this meant. As if it was my fault. In his eyes, it probably was.

  “Are you sure?” Allandrea, for perhaps the first time since I’d met her, had genuine trepidation in her voice. But she still maintained her poise.

  “A scout ship was destroyed off the coast of the Island of Sorrow. They managed to get a message to us. The Anzac fleet is on the move. It will be within range to engage by morning at the latest.”

  Allandrea rubbed her chin, thoughtfully. Lianthorn glared at this expression. It was human, I realised. And Allandrea had picked it up. Lianthorn didn’t like that.

  “They will encircle the capital,” she said. “And then offer their terms.”

  “Which will be unacceptable,” Lianthorn replied.

  Surprisingly, Allandrea didn’t argue with that.

  “The garrison?” Allandrea asked, her voice growing colder.

  “It is ready and strong, my queen. They will pay for every inch with blood.”

  Could they really be entertaining this thought? Did they really think they could survive?

  I looked at Treth. He was thinking the same. And we came to the same conclusion.

  They couldn’t win this.

  “You have to negotiate!” I blurted out.

  “What do you know about this, human?” Lianthorn spat. “We have fought and died for our home here. And we will fight to keep it!”

  “And you will die! I’ve seen the Anzac fleet. It’s ships alone outgun everything I saw in the capital and in the palace. That’s not to mention the guns they’ll have trained on Wellington on the coast. The Anzac forces number a generation of angry men and women from two countries. Not to mention the support they have abroad.”

  “They are human. We are elves, with millennia of experience. We are the children of stars. We can defend ourselves from rabble.”

  “A bullet doesn’t care if you’re one or a thousand years old!” My voice became shriller. Desperate. “Too many people will die. And this palace will be destroyed. They weren’t ready last time, but they are now. They have magic, and guns. And an army that outnumbers every elf in New Sintar.”

  My voice went lower.

  “Please…” I turned to Allandrea, pleading. “Negotiate. Let them know what you have done here. That humans and elves can live together. That there is something other than war.”

  Allandrea was silent, as Lianthorn seethed.

  The silence of contemplation became heavy, until Lianthorn broke it.

  “You can’t truly be considering this human’s request? We have tried to reason with the humans. They have betrayed us at every turn. They hate us, my queen. And they always will. If we can’t go home, we have to make a new home here.”

  His voice calmed as he advanced on the queen, lowering himself to his knees. He touched his forehead onto the queen’s foot.

  “Please…” he whispered, continuing in elvish. Even with my own rudimentary knowledge of the language, I could hear the sincerity in his voice. The pleas. The abject desperation.

  Perhaps, he was right. That Anzac would never forgive them. But I knew I was also right. They couldn’t win this.

  “Kat…” Allandrea finally said.

  “Yes, my…Allandrea?”

  “Could you work with your aunt to create a statement? Something we could show the world that we are peaceful?”

  I nodded. “We will try.”

  Lianthorn’s head snapped up, his mouth agape with shock and dejection.

  “My queen…”

  “Enough, Lianthorn!” Allandrea uttered. True anger. “The War Court has doomed my people enough. War cannot save us. Violence will beget more violence. And the time for conflict is at an end. Kat is right. We cannot win this through arms. We must show the world that we can be allies.”

  “There must be a meeting of the Courts…”

  “It has been decided! The Earth and Star Courts will rebuild our world. Hopefully, the War Court’s hubris has left something to rebuild.”

  She spun, turning her back on the elf commander. Shocked, Lianthorn slowly rose. As he did so, his expression darkened. With a military gait, he turned towards the door and stopped.

  “There is a human thinker,” he said, with quiet menace. “Who said something apt once upon a time. It is better to be feared than loved. The War Court…I have kept this country safe through the force of my arms. And I will continue to do so.”

  He left, the door slamming behind him.

  I didn’t have the stomach to let him know that Machiavelli was possibly being satirical.

  Chapter 27.

  Propaganda

  I had never seen my aunt so anxious. Her hands practically flew across her computer’s keyboard as she transcribed the information that we hoped would save a country.

  “What would convince them to spare us…?” Mandy muttered to herself. I noted that she said us. She saw herself as New Sintari. She buzzed with a feverish anxiety.

  “We need to write more about how humans and elves have integrated here. Have y
ou written about that before?” I asked. It was just a vague suggestion. The ever-pressing threat of invasion was looming closer and closer. And we had to do something.

  Mandy reddened. “I…I didn’t see the need. I was…”

  Just studying the elves. I couldn’t be angry with her about that. That was her job. But it did mean that we lacked a big chunk of the info we needed to possibly convince Anzac to stand down.

  Or…did we?

  “Mandy…how do you see yourself?” I asked.

  She stopped typing. Over her shoulder, I saw her compiling documents about Sintari medicine. Practical stuff. But humans could loot and exploit the magic and treasures of the elves without living peacefully among them. Treth had shown me that on Avathor, and the Anzac mages no doubt used Sintari magic. It wasn’t enough to be useful. You had to be useful and compelling.

  No…we needed something more.

  Something personal.

  Mandy hesitated. I pressed closer. My eyes were heavy. We had been working for hours. I had helped collect notes and write what I could. My friends and the elves around the palace were busy compiling their own plans throughout the building. My job was to act as research assistant to my aunt. To help keep her directed.

  It was a great honour, I realised, having Mandy in charge of this project. Perhaps, it’s because she, more than any human, understood elves the best. But she didn’t necessarily understand humans.

  My job was to be the human.

  “I’m a researcher…” she said.

  “I know, but I mean…what is your nation? Are you Hopean, like me? Are you a New Zealander…or?

  “I’m New Sintari,” she said, unshakably. Her eyes suddenly widened as it dawned on her. I smiled, encouragingly.

  “The elves have tried to reach out to the humans before…but it’s always failed because they tried to be practical. But humans have been using the tools of their enemies since the first cave man copied the fire of his enemy just to burn him with it later. It isn’t enough to be useful. The elves have to show that they belong here. That we belong with them.”

  “But there is so much they can give humanity…”

  “And they can give that stuff from beyond the grave. That isn’t enough. What is enough…is what they are to us alive.”

  Mandy had never been good with people. Theory and study had always been her primary nature. People were the enigma surrounding her passion. But, perhaps unbeknownst to her, she’d been living among people. And she’d become one of them.

  I saw it in her eyes that she had finally realised this too.

  She saved her document and opened a new page. Her fingers clattered away at the keyboard. Not as fast as before but determined.

  I read the title.

  “I am a human. And I’m New Sintari…”

  “This could be it,” I said, more for the benefit of Treth.

  He manifested nearby, still looking confused.

  “New Sintar is a nation,” I explained. “Not of humans or elves, but of both. And the humans here want to be New Sintari. That means something. This isn’t about making the elves look peaceful. They aren’t. But they’re like us. They just want a place to live. And if we can understand that and understand them…we can stop the fighting.”

  An hour later, Mandy stopped typing. She stood up to let me take a seat. I peered at her essay. In silence, I read her testimonial. It was more than a propaganda piece. Much more.

  It spoke of her time with the elves with a sincerity I had never heard from my aunt before. A sad and determined honesty of what being New Sintari meant to her. And what living with the elves truly meant. She spoke of building a nation that showed that we could have peace after the Cataclysm. But more than all of that…

  For the first time in my life, I think I understood my aunt.

  She belonged here.

  I finished and realised that I had been crying.

  I turned away from the computer and saw tears streaming down my aunt’s face.

  “I understand now…” I said. “You had to be here.”

  Mandy started to nod, but then shook her head.

  “I shouldn’t have left you, Kat. Not when you needed me most.”

  “You had work to do…important work,” I argued, but my heart wasn’t in it. I still resented her for leaving me. But more than that…

  There was something else. Something much more complex.

  Did I resent her at all?

  Perhaps, once. But not anymore.

  I didn’t want my aunt with me. And I didn’t need her. I never did. And she never would have been enough.

  “I miss her,” I said, simply, as new tears welled up in my eyes.

  My aunt wrapped her arms around me.

  “Me too.”

  We wept. Perhaps, for the first time together since that dreadful day. And Mandy didn’t need to be my mom here, I realised. She could never be that. But knowing what she had done here…

  “When this is over,” she said. “I’m coming back to Hope City. It’s time I start taking care of my family.”

  “This is your family. I…I can handle myself.”

  Mandy looked into my eyes. I didn’t know what she saw behind the tears.

  “I didn’t know your eyes were different colours…” she said, as if they had always been and she had just failed to notice. And she saw more than that. It was as if she had seen who I had become. Who I was.

  I rubbed my eyes, as she tightened her arms around me.

  “I know you can handle yourself. But you don’t have to. I should have been better. Been the sister that she deserved. It’s time I start making things right.”

  “This is your home…you’re happy here.”

  Mandy smiled, sadly. “But I can make a home with you. There are elves all over the world. But there’s only one of you.”

  Truthfully, I didn’t know if I wanted my aunt with me in Hope City. I had made a life for myself. And she’d made a life for herself here.

  I took a breath and rubbed the tears from my eyes.

  “We can make a decision after we finish this essay and get it to the queen. We still need to figure out how we’re going to get Anzac to read it…”

  The door swung open, interrupting the moment. Treth appeared by my side, ready to drop Ithalen into my open hand. But it was only Senegal, followed by Ari.

  I breathed a sigh of relief, but then realised that the paleness in Senegal’s cheeks was not just his complexion.

  “What is it?” I asked, in the tone of a commander.

  Senegal opened his mouth to speak, but then turned to Ari, evidently lost for words. The blood-haired elf warrior wore her red War Court regalia, a sword by her side. Not that you could have guessed by her expression that she was a soldier. She looked like an unarmed buck against a lion. She stepped forward.

  “I’m a member of the War Court. So, I know there are things I should be doing. That I need to defend my people. Loyalty is a virtue for my Court. But…I see you as my people also…”

  I smiled, faintly. “If you’re friends with Sen, then you’re also friends with us.”

  She didn’t smile. Her eyes were darting nervously, side to side. I took a step forward.

  “Ari…what’s going on?”

  “I can’t let Sen and you get hurt…but they’re my family.”

  “Who? Who is going to hurt us?”

  She gulped. “The War Court. They’re plotting a coup to overthrow Allandrea and kill all of you…as spies.”

  Shocked, I could only gasp out a simple question. “When?”

  The reply was just as simple, but much more ominous.

  “It’s already begun.”

  Chapter 28.

  Falling Apart

  “We have to get the others!” I exclaimed, my heart and body already shifting from shock to that all too familiar sensation of battle. That half-way point between rage and calm.

  “What about the essay?” Mandy asked. Her eyes darted desperately over her
notes.

  “I don’t know when they’ll be here…” Ari said, apologetically. As if it was her fault. Perhaps, it was. She may have known about this for a long time. But I couldn’t be angry with her. She’d chosen us over her court. Her family.

  I grabbed my aunt’s hand firmly and looked into her eyes. “The essay will have to wait. We have to save the others.”

  She hesitated, but then nodded. Slowly.

  “We need to get to my room first,” I said, spinning towards Ari and Senegal. “My equipment is in there. Do you know where the others are?”

  Senegal blushed. “I…Pranish is in the archives with Candace. But I don’t know where the alpha is.”

  “Trudie will be fine. She’s probably the least in danger of all of us…” Unless the elves had silver. And with the colour of all the decorations in this place, they no doubt did.

  “Mandy…” I said, glancing towards her. She was packing papers into a satchel.

  “We have to hurry! We can come back…”

  She looked up with a fear I had not seen on her face since the funeral. It told me one thing: she didn’t believe we were coming back to this room.

  She stood up, her satchel brimming with random notes. I couldn’t chastise her. This was her life’s work.

  Ari, sensing that we were about to leave, walked softly towards the door. She poked her head out and looked both ways.

  “Clear!” she whispered.

  With the all-clear, we followed her out into the curving hallway. The palace was silent. It didn’t sound like a coup. But elves didn’t rely on loud guns. This would be a night of silent magic and swift sword fights. That knowledge made the silence eerie and unsettling. I glanced towards the shadows but found nothing. The even lighting of the palace was all encompassing. Nowhere for an assassin to hide.

  Ari took point, with the rest of us tailing behind her. Our collective footfalls clacked jarringly on the smooth floors. I couldn’t hear anyone else.

  We were alone.

  My room, and hopefully Brett, was just a few corridors ahead…

  I felt something stir in the air. Something subtle. For most, it would have been passed off as a figment of an on-edge imagination. But these gut feelings had saved my life before.