Jason focused on the magic of the bow in his hand, reached out, and borrowed the skill necessary to let an arrow fly. He tracked the bat as it flitted and flapped across the field until he felt the magic take hold, and then he released the bowstring. The arrow soared, straight and true, and lodged in the bat’s rider. He toppled from the beast and fell into the battle below. A cheer rose from the forces of Far Seeing. Jason was cheering too. The sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through his body made him feel strong, powerful, invincible. The bat wheeled away and flew off into the dusk. A few more shots like that might make this whole experience almost enjoyable.
In the distance, Jason saw the Knight of the Mirror hacking his way through the Scim, his magic-less warriors following behind and to the sides of him. It was almost beautiful, the smoothness of their motion as they scythed through the crowd. Jason caught sight of Baileya for a moment, her strange spear spinning through the enemy.
Out of nowhere, a monstrous wolf, nearly the size of a compact car, leapt onto Jason’s rhinocorn. “Gah!” he shouted, recoiling from the terrifying sight of its enormous maw and rolling backward off his mount, the wolf pouncing just behind him, missing only because Jason continued to roll when he hit the ground.
Jason scrambled to his feet, his bow and arrows scattered on the ground between him and the wolf. He tried not to hyperventilate at the sight of the mangy, drooling monster. He hadn’t brought a knife. Not even a small one. The wolf advanced, and Jason stepped backward. “Is there a pause button?” Jason asked nervously as the wolf took another step forward. “Um. Time out?”
An ear-shattering war cry filled the air, followed by David Glenn’s lean body leaping onto the wolf’s back, hacking into its neck with his ax. Kekoa ran in from the side, slicing at the monster’s legs with his leiomanō. The wolf collapsed, and the boys kicked and stabbed at it. It shook once, violently, and knocked David from its back before slinking away into the battle.
“Hi,” Jason said, panting. “What was that?”
“We call those giant wolves,” Kekoa said nonchalantly.
“But we liked that name you used,” David said.
Then they both shouted together, looks of mock horror on their faces, “GAH!”
“Har, har,” Jason said, gathering his bow and arrows, his hands shaking. “Giant wolves are scary. I do not like them.”
“Nice shot with the bat,” Kekoa said. “They’ll be talking about that one tomorrow!”
David shouted, “Split up or stick together?”
“I wanna get that big spider they brought tonight! Did you see it?”
“Gross,” David said. “Hard pass. I’m going after that wolf. Jason?”
Kekoa put his hands on Jason’s. “You’re shaking, brah. That’s just adrenaline. It’s okay. Remember, you got nothing to be afraid of. The Elenil will fix you right up if something happens, and we’re keeping an eye on you. You want to go hunt a giant spider with me?”
Jason shuddered. He did not want to see a giant spider.
“Think of the positives,” David said. “What are the good things happening right now?”
“I have a unicorn,” Jason said reflexively.
“No one else has a unicorn,” Kekoa said. “Right?”
“I gotta go find her!”
The three exchanged grins, and David shouted, “WAR PARTY, TO WAR!”
David gave Jason a thumbs-up and ran after the wolf, and Kekoa let out a whoop and dove back into the fray. Jason watched them go, his hands on his hips. He scooped up his arrows and put them back in the quiver. He had no idea how to find Delightful Glitter Lady. “Uh,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Here, unicorn! Over here! Uuuuunicooorn!”
Madeline watched Shula leave before climbing the stairs toward the top of the wall. The more she thought about it, the more Madeline realized she had no intention of lifting a sword against anyone, Scim or Elenil or human. War was not her thing. She couldn’t imagine that a night on the wall would change that, not for an instant. She might be in service to the Elenil, but she didn’t have to kill anyone. Her breath went ragged for a moment. Surprised, she pushed up her sleeve to see the bracelet tattoo pulsing in time to her breathing. Maybe it could sense her wavering in her commitment to the Elenil. Okay, okay, she was going up the stairs like she was supposed to.
It was a wide stone stairway. At the top, a shimmering golden haze prevented her from stepping onto the wall. A voice came from the haze as Madeline approached it. “Declare your race and enter.”
“My race?” Madeline looked back down the stairway, as if for help. She wasn’t sure what to say. “White?” She paused. “Caucasian?”
Nothing happened.
She waited for a minute, unsure what to do. “French? Scottish.”
Hanali descended the stairs, the shimmering curtain gently making way for him. “My sweet child,” he said. “Is this so difficult? It is a simple security measure—it should not be so vexing.”
“I don’t understand what it’s asking, I guess,” Madeline said.
“Observe,” Hanali said, and started up the stairs.
The shimmering golden haze’s voice said, “Declare your race and enter.”
“Elenil,” Hanali said, and the curtain parted. He walked through, glancing over his shoulder at Madeline with a look of pity.
“Declare your race and enter.”
“Human,” Madeline said, and the curtain parted. She stepped onto the wall. She felt a vague sense of unease at the security magic. Was being a human sufficient reason to trust someone for entry? She wondered what happened if the curtain determined you were Scim . . . or something else.
Hanali waited, impatient, one gloved hand held out to her. He wore a new emerald-green outfit and a ridiculous floppy hat. “We use the same magic at the city gates, to keep the Scim out. The only real danger on this side of the wall is that they could tear down the gate itself.”
The wall was wider than she had expected. (“Wide enough for six carriages to race side by side—though who would enter such a foolish race?” Hanali said.) Below them the Elenil army gathered. Madeline noted that not many of them were Elenil, something that, again, struck her as strange. They were, in fact, nearly all humans, or at least seemed to be. She had thought maybe that was just the city guard, but it appeared to be true of their entire army.
The atmosphere at the top of the wall was not one of war. Merchants strode down the center selling snacks, and seating areas festooned with flowers and banners bedecked the outer edges, where the view would be best. Musicians gathered at the inner edge, playing jaunty tunes on stringed instruments. The musicians, the merchants, the dancers, the security guards: all humans. Elenil, taller and far more elegant, walked among them or sat on the edge chatting amiably with one another as they waited for the battle to start.
“I have someone to introduce you to,” Hanali said, his face aglow with excitement beneath the ridiculous wide brim of his hat. While the other Elenil tended toward elegance, Hanali often looked like the most outrageous model at an experimental fashion show. Madeline wondered if he did this on purpose. “She’s well known to the archon, and if all goes well she may bring you into the court in her service after your training. Her name is Gilenyia.”
Madeline didn’t know much about who the archon was, and she didn’t know why it was good to be taken into the court after her training, or even how long it would be (when she got to stop wearing white?), but this seemed important to Hanali, and whatever came, she continued to be thankful to him for providing her a way to breathe.
Hanali fussed over her gloves, making sure they covered her wrists where they met the long sleeves of her dress. He told her twice not to offer to shake hands and not to curtsy and certainly not to draw attention to herself. “Be your usual charming self,” Hanali said, “only more charming.”
Hanali threaded the crowd, past the jugglers and actors, the poets and puppeteers, until they came to a cream-colored tent shot through with gold and
silver thread. Two humans stood on guard outside, wearing a strange mishmash of medieval European armor and fantastic Elenil designs. One of them lifted a chin to Hanali, which delighted him to no end. “I brought those two into the Sunlit Lands,” he whispered as they entered the tent.
The tent was lit by floating glass balls, each of which held a spark of light. “An extravagant use of magic,” Hanali murmured. “Especially when the dark so rarely comes to the Court of Far Seeing.”
An Elenil woman lay stretched on a divan in the center of the tent, her long dress draped carefully to cover her completely. Her laced collar crept so far up her neck that it caressed her chin. The skin of her face was pale as milk on marble, her hair like tame sunlight. Her eyes were a deep blue, almost purple, that Madeline had only seen while on an airplane, looking at the distant sky above the clouds.
“Ah,” the Elenil woman said. “This must be Madeline Oliver.”
Hanali had told her not to shake hands or curtsy but hadn’t explained what she should do. Madeline allowed herself a slight smile and forced herself to look away from Gilenyia. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hanali bow deeply.
Gilenyia laughed, and her laugh built on itself, like a handbell choir playing a particularly merry tune. “So polite, Hanali! Even your human charge did not curtsy, so why should you be so formal? Come, friends, and sit. Let us enjoy this evening together.”
Two chairs waited on either side of her. Madeline hadn’t seen them appear. Hanali escorted her to a chair, then sat on the other side of the divan. Why did Hanali tell her not to curtsy, and then bow himself? He was so frustrating. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Gilenyia smiled at Madeline. “He scared you, didn’t he? Told you not to curtsy or shake hands?”
Madeline glanced at Hanali, who shook his head.
“Yes,” Madeline said.
Gilenyia burst into laughter, and Madeline couldn’t keep from smiling in return. “He’s my cousin,” Gilenyia said. “Or at least, that’s the closest concept among your people. We grew up in the same household, like brother and sister. We are young for Elenil, born in the same year. I am not easily offended, even by the strange manners of humans.”
Madeline wasn’t sure if she should respond, but she said, “He acted like you were a celebrity.”
“She is,” Hanali said, “in her way.”
Gilenyia slapped his shoulder. “You never treated me thus when we were children.” She leaned toward Madeline and whispered, “He uses his youth as an excuse when he violates good manners. The Elenil at the Court talk about him incessantly. He is well known as a rogue.”
“Please,” Hanali said, fastidiously pulling the fingers of his gloves to fit more perfectly. “I spend so much time among the humans, I occasionally forget the ins and outs of Elenil society.”
“Nonsense,” Gilenyia said, laughing again, her gloved hands covering her mouth. “Ah, you have always been a rogue.”
“What changed?” Madeline asked. “Why did he start treating you differently?”
Gilenyia’s face darkened, and Hanali’s paled. Madeline couldn’t see why her question might be rude, but she hastily apologized. Gilenyia didn’t respond, didn’t seem to have heard her.
“In other news,” Hanali said brightly, “my new haberdasher assures me this hat will be the talk of Far Seeing.”
Gilenyia spoke over him. “It is a fair question, Cousin, and if she is here to fight the Scim, why not tell her all? You did not bring her to Far Seeing for her insights on hats and silk jackets.”
Hanali inclined his head. “As you wish, Cousin. But I would rather she see the Scim first, and know of your work.”
Gilenyia sighed. “At last fair Hanali speaks his mind. So be it then. Far be it from me to discourage you when you get the courage to speak as family and not some sycophant.” She leaned her head to the side and whispered something, and three waiters appeared with drinks. Or . . . something like waiters. Again, humans, and they did not meet Madeline’s eye.
The drink was sweet, like some combination of strawberry and peach, and cold, though it had no ice. It was, like many things among the Elenil, the most delightful drink Madeline could recall. She drank it faster than she intended, and a second drink appeared in her hand at the same moment the empty glass was whisked away.
“Take off your glove,” Gilenyia said.
Without thinking, Madeline pulled her hand away from the Elenil woman. It was a request she wouldn’t have thought twice about at home, but here it was a matter of propriety, perhaps even modesty. She knew it was the height of rudeness to show one’s naked hand to the Elenil, and she assumed to ask someone to remove their glove was rude as well.
“I don’t want to offend you,” Madeline said.
But Gilenyia took a firm hold of Madeline’s left wrist and slipped the glove from her hand. The action shocked Madeline. She looked to Hanali for guidance, but he appeared almost queasy. He gave her a look she thought was intended to seem reassuring.
“Fascinating,” Gilenyia said, studying the silver loops and swirls of Madeline’s tattoo. It almost pulsed in the light of the hovering glass orbs. She traced one of the leafing branches. “This is a healing spell.” She turned to Hanali. “Who wrought this? Did you learn so much in the household of our childhood?”
Hanali inclined his head slightly. “Indeed. It was I who struck the deal, Cousin.”
Gilenyia looked into Madeline’s eyes. “So young to be at death’s door. You cannot breathe?”
“I can now.”
“Because—” Gilenyia traced the silver tattoo, puzzling through its knots and cords. “Because you agreed to fight the Scim. For a human year.” She looked to Hanali again, “A canny bargain, Cousin.”
“A canny bargain?” Madeline asked. “Isn’t everyone’s about the same?”
Gilenyia gave her a pitying look. A horn sounded, distracting her. Madeline pulled her glove over her hand and moved away from the woman.
“The Knight of the Mirror,” Gilenyia said, sounding pleased. She made a motion, and one curtained wall opened, revealing the edge of the city wall and the battlefield beyond. Madeline bit her lip, watching the massive scale of the army preparing itself for battle. “Do not worry, child. Before this night is through I will show you the power of Elenil healing magic.”
“It is a great honor,” Hanali said. “So few are able to heal, even among the Elenil.”
Below them, a knight and his entourage moved toward the front lines. It wasn’t night yet—it would never be night here. But a sort of twilight had fallen over the field. Madeline could still see the army below with amazing clarity, and she wondered if there was some magical enhancement improving the view. Rondelo, one of only a handful of Elenil on the field, rode out on his white stag, Evernu. Madeline found it hard to imagine herself on the field of battle, wearing extravagant armor. What weapon would she use? Who would be her commander? The whole idea was odd. She wondered for a moment if she could ride Evernu behind Rondelo, her arms around his waist, then felt the heat in her face. How would she fight if her arms were full of the Elenil warrior? Madeline’s heart beat faster, and she was suddenly glad Darius wasn’t here to see her face. Besides, Rondelo was Elenil. She didn’t think that would work, and she would be gone in a year. Darius was waiting for her.
“Rondelo has become well respected,” Hanali said, as if reading Madeline’s thoughts. “His insistence on joining the field of battle has drawn attention.”
Gilenyia made a noncommittal noise. “I have heard his name spoken among the magistrates.”
“He is young to be mentioned for polemarch,” Hanali said. “And yet I, too, have heard his name among the prophets and soothsayers in the market. And he is plain for an Elenil. He could almost pass for human.”
Gilenyia sipped her drink. “If he were to become commander of the Elenil army, it would give the current polemarch more time to attend to social matters. It could come to pass.”
“So that Ti
rius can attend more parties? You have a wicked tongue, Cousin.”
Gilenyia smiled slyly. “I know we are family, Hanali. You need not call me Cousin every time you speak.”
Hanali said nothing.
A great cheer came up from the west, and the Scim army appeared over the ridge. A spider the size of a semi crested the hill first, followed by enormous creatures of various disgusting types: wolves, rats, bats, and even a monstrous, scabby possum.
“Now they will list their supposed grievances,” Gilenyia said.
Madeline knelt at the wall’s edge so she could see better. Hanali handed her a brass spyglass. Madeline held it to her eye, and the distant Scim appeared, more disgusting than she could have imagined. The Scim spokesman had massive teeth, tusks nearly, jutting from behind his bottom lip. Grey skin, ears like wads of chewed gum, and a heavy shelf of a brow over small, angry black eyes. The rags that covered his heavily muscled frame were stained and no doubt stank. His hands were too large, the wide fingernails yellowed and broken.
The Scim began to speak, his gravelly voice rolling over the field of battle and to the wall. It must have been magically amplified, because he wasn’t shouting, but every word was crystal clear.
“I am Crooked Back, spokesman for the Scim. We see you tremble in fear at our approach.” The Elenil forces jeered. Crooked Back continued, “We do not come seeking war but only a return of what is ours. The Elenil have stolen what rightfully belongs to the Scim. They have taken certain artifacts which are of our heritage. Five magical artifacts, made by Scim, empowered by Scim, belonging to the Scim. Stolen by the Elenil. If these five artifacts are returned to our people, we will leave in peace.”
Gilenyia put her hand lightly on Madeline’s shoulder. “What would they ask for tomorrow if we gave in to such demands today? Those artifacts are dangerous and were taken from the Scim for their own safety after the War of the Waste. No, we won’t be returning those.”
Hanali grunted. “Nor do we have them, for the magistrates turned them over to a human, did they not?”
The Crescent Stone Page 14
