by Tara Omar
“Yeah,” said Liza. “Goodnight.”
She hurried down the stairs and into the night air. The crisp breeze outside the Palace walls washed over her face like a damp cloth. Liza felt she could breathe again; she inhaled deeply, glancing at the silver bracelet dangling on her wrist. She held the charm between her fingers, just as a large woman tackled her from behind. The woman slid down, gripping Liza by her knees as she screamed. Ibex guards came running.
“Lady, have mercy, please. He didn’t mean it,” cried the woman. “He was forced. Please, have mercy, please.”
“Back off!” shouted a guard. They pulled her away from Liza, but the woman fought back. A guard unsheathed his sword. Liza raised her arm.
“What is going on?” asked Liza.
“We caught her son selling contraband on a second offence. Under His Majesty’s law, this merits the death penalty. His sentencing was today.”
“Lady, I beg of you, have mercy. It won’t happen again; I swear it. He was forced, I’m telling you. He’s a jockey.”
Liza paused. “Where is he being held?”
“At the Magistrate’s Court around the corner, Your Majesty.”
Liza pushed past them, heading in the direction of the court, with the guards following behind.
“Please, Lady. Don’t let them take him from me. He’s my—”
“Shut up,” shouted the guard. Liza ignored them both, for there, behind a pane of one-way glass, she saw a familiar face. It was Nick. Her face hardened.
“Take him to the royal nesting box for community service. My peregrine is in need of a jockey,” said Liza.
“But Your Majesty.”
“As I have spoken,” commanded Liza.
The woman again lunged for her knees. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Get off her,” shouted the guard.
Liza pulled herself away and left for the Temple without a second glance, lost in thought.
C h a p t e r 2 2
David stopped near a tree at the forested base of the mountain, his face twisted in frustration. For several minutes he paced, thinking about what to do.
I have nowhere to go, absolutely nowhere, thought David. And he’s already talked to Jia Li.
After a long moment, he sighed and jogged back in the direction of the cottage. David found Sasha at the kitchen table, arranging pebbles of frankincense on a tray. Each pebble was precisely four millimetres apart from the next, with a change in colour so slight the tray looked like a rainbow of perfectly-organised rocks, fading from green to yellow to white. David frowned.
“I overreacted, didn’t I?” he asked. Sasha continued aligning pebbles.
“And with my assumptions, I disrespected your hospitality and misjudged your character, and was basically just an ass,” he continued, “I’m sorry.”
Sasha glanced at David as he took another pebble.
“Silence, please say something,” said David.
“There’s nothing to say,” said Sasha.
“Are we still okay?” asked David.
“That depends. Are you here because you value us as persons or for the information we have?”
“Well, I…” David paused. “If I were to answer you honestly, I don’t know.”
Sasha nodded.
“Look, you have to understand, I’ve been through a lot lately,” said David.
“And no one is making you the victim here. You’re doing that to yourself,” said Sasha. “Yasmin is in her yurt.”
David sighed and headed down the other hall to the door marked, Hers, which was cracked open. The room was nearly empty except for some shelves and a small workstation near the side. Yasmin sat at the centre of the wooden floor in meditation, balancing a jar of honey in her hands.
“Come in, David,” called Yasmin. “I’m almost finished.”
She took a deep breath in and smiled. “There we are, all better now. Honey has so many good properties. It’s sweet, filling, eternal, healing, hardly ever allows for any bad energy. It’s the perfect object for meditation. Would you like to see?”
“Um, sure,” said David, taking the jar. It was ceramic, with the initials Y.J. painted on the side. “What’s Y.J?” he asked.
“Oh, that’s me. I made this long before I met Sash. The jar reminds me to be a better self,” said Yasmin. “And speaking of jars of selves, I think it’s high time you became a ginger.”
Yasmin pulled a knife and a piece of ginger from a basket, motioning for him to sit down. As he did, she felt his face with her hands, copying the shapes she felt with her knife. David watched as the ginger root started to take the shape of his head.
“Oh, you meant literally a ginger.”
Yasmin giggled. “What else would I mean?” She took a jar of pickled ginger off the shelf and stuffed the David-looking ginger root inside next to shrivelled carvings of other forms. She smiled. “The jar represents a bubble of love. Everyone inside is protected by all the love and good energy we can muster. It’s a blessing from the Frank household.”
David frowned. “Have you ever met Norbert Bransby?”
“No, why?”
“No reason. You just seem like you’d get along, that’s all,” said David. “Thank you, though. I can use all the blessings I can get at the moment.”
“We all can,” said Yasmin with a giggle.
“So, you’re not going to turn me into Ibex then?” asked David.
“And let you be murdered under the King’s tyrannical laws? I could never sentence a person to death like that. You will always be safe here.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, you said your brother found something before he died?” asked David.
“He wouldn’t tell us, not even Sash,” said Yasmin. “We think it had something to do with volcanic theory, but we’re not sure exactly what it was. He may have figured out about the imminent Mount Leah eruption, but we don’t actually know. We only know that he was paranoid someone would be out to get him with what he knew.”
“So you think the rally accident wasn’t an accident?” asked David.
“My brother was a really good driver,” said Yasmin. “One of the best, actually, and it was supposed to be an easy turn. Sasha is convinced the steering column was tampered with.”
“Resulting in a murder that looks like an accident,” said David.
Yasmin nodded.
“What do you think?” asked David.
“I don’t know. It’s possible he wasn’t fit to drive. He acted quite strangely at the end.”
“You don’t sound like you believe that,” said David.
“Actually, I don’t think about it much,” said Yasmin. “My brother wouldn’t want me to, and I respect his memory.”
“How’s it going in here?” asked Sasha, popping his head through the door.
“Wonderfully. David is officially a ginger,” said Yasmin, holding up the jar.
“Looks good. I hope he lives up to the jar of love,” said Sasha. “We wouldn’t want any bad energy from the inside.”
He put the jar on the shelf and straightened the items around it so they were perfectly aligned.
Yasmin smiled. “Sash, you’re so full of nonsense sometimes,” she said, reaching for a spoon in the exact place Sasha moved it. “Though speaking of bad energy, I forgot I need to check on Fluffy. He’s going to be so sour if I don’t make rolls soon. Catch you boys in a bit.” Yasmin danced her way to the kitchen with her spoon. David watched as Sasha continued to organise.
“You do it for her, don’t you?” asked David. “This obsession with neatness.”
“Yasmin has the house memorised. Things being in the same place allows her to be independent,” said Sasha, adjusting a line of jars so they were all equidistant from each other. “Though most of it is just obsession.”
&
nbsp; “And you said you spoke to Jia Li?” asked David.
“I did,” said Sasha. “She wouldn’t confirm if Petra was around during the last installation, but she’s agreed to ‘overlook’ our presence when they add the next figure in the coming weeks. She’s even willing to give us official uniforms so we blend in with the workers…for a price.”
“What does she want?”
“Thirteen saltwater pearls,” said Sasha. “Five for an hour with the fountain, six for the uniforms, two as an endangerment fee.”
“Endangerment fee?” asked David.
“For potentially putting her at risk with the authorities,” said Sasha as he adjusted Yasmin’s watering can. “Her words, not mine.”
“That sounds like Jia Li,” sighed David. “Where am I going to get the pearls?”
“Can’t you make them from your wrist?”
“I doubt it. Nacre is way, way beyond my skill level. It’s beyond the skill of most mers, actual—hey what are you doing?”
David shuddered as Sasha poured a full watering can over his head, his hair and markings flickering like a shorting bulb as the water sprinkled over them. Sasha tipped the last of the water over David’s wrists.
“Just getting you ready to practice,” said Sasha. “It’s time you learned how to spin some pearls.”
C h a p t e r 2 3
Catherine unpinned the clasp on Liza’s ceremonial robes. They were in the vestibule of the Temple, the morning service having just ended. Catherine smiled.
“A fine service today, Lady,” said Catherine. “Your lesson was most inspiring.”
“Thank you, Catherine,” said Liza, hanging her robes in the closet. “Your singing was lovely as usual. You have a gift.”
“Thank you, my Lady. It’s a pity the King wasn’t here to hear the sermon,” said Catherine. “He could use a few more lessons in his head, especially with the big meeting today.”
“What meeting?” asked Liza.
“Don’t you know?” asked Catherine. “The judges are voting on whether or not to keep Dominic’s temporary instatement of the death penalty. They’re supposed to decide whether or not to make it a permanent law.”
“How do you know about this?” asked Liza.
“Everyone knows,” said Catherine. “It’s even in the Rosy Herald, I think.”
“But Madame Soiree brings me the paper every morning, I’ve never seen anything about—” Liza paused. “Damn it, Soiree.”
“Lady!” gasped Catherine, but Liza had already pushed past her and out the door. Catherine hopped around, trying to pull her foot from inside the elaborate robe. “Oh, for the love of Avi, these vestments are like the squeeze of a snake,” she muttered. “Lady, wait!” cried Catherine, but Liza was halfway to the Palace, racing toward the royal meeting room. She ran into Dominic near the door. He looked surprised to see her. Liza glared at him.
“Why was I not invited to this meeting?” she asked.
“Because it’s a matter which does not concern you,” said Dominic, pulling her to the side of the corridor.
“Does not concern me?” asked Liza. “I almost died under this law.”
“Hush, not so loud,” said Dominic. Liza nodded to the Renaultan judge, who eyed her curiously as he entered the room.
“It’s also the work of the Temple to defend the rights of the people, to defend life.”
Dominic rolled his eyes. “Don’t come here with your idealism, Liza. Everyone knows you’re a former convict, and these people will be quick to use it against you if you annoy them. Do you want your name smeared all over the paper tomorrow?”
“So you’re saying I was brought from prison merely to agree with you?” asked Liza.
“You were brought here to console the people and to preach what is best for the State, which is also in the people’s best interest.”
“And by that you mean I shall preach whatever you order me to,” said Liza.
“I am your King,” said Dominic.
“I am your wife,” cried Liza.
“Then start acting like it,” snapped Dominic.
Liza scowled. “Lady Imaan was right. The Temple and State should be separate. If the Lady were alive, she would’ve forced her way into this meeting.”
“And what would the Lady have said, huh? I think her actions speak pretty loudly of her opinion on the subject,” said Dominic. Liza shook her finger.
“You take that back. The Lady did not kill anyone.”
“I am not going to argue this right now,” said Dominic, turning toward the hall.
“Saladin believed a life is a life,” said Liza. “If you were even a modicum like him, you would—”
“Saladin’s dead, Liza. Imaan killed him, and I am not Saladin. I don’t command the same respect with the people, so measures need to be taken to compensate. When are you going to get that through your head?” asked Dominic.
“Is this your idea or Gabe’s?” asked Liza.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Dominic.
“You should try making decisions for yourself once in a while instead of listening to everything that man says. He controls too much as it is.”
“Yes, well, at least that man has my back, unlike you,” said Dominic. He let out a bitter laugh. “I mean you just told me I’m unfit to rule, and, in the next breath, you’re telling me I must make my own decisions.”
“Dominic, I didn’t mean—”
“I have to go,” said Dominic, shaking his head. He followed the arriving Theodite judge into the meeting room, leaving her in the corridor as he turned to greet those inside. Gabe smiled at her as he neared the meeting room.
“Good morning, Liza. How are you this lovely morning?”
“How many of the judges have you bought?” huffed Liza. Gabe stopped, looking puzzled.
“I’m sorry you feel I would do something like that, Liza, but I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Gabe.
“How many of the judges have you bought?” she repeated.
“Liza, please, I understand you’re upset, but these hurtful accusations border on defamation,” said Gabe. “No one wants to see anyone die, least of all me.”
“But you—”
“Please, if I may,” said Gabe. He touched her elbow, guiding her away from the door as he spoke.
“If I may be honest, you have a lot of power here, Liza. You are Queen, and no one can take that from you, not even me. Saladin wanted it that way because he saw in you a bright spark that could make a real difference in Aeroth. He wanted to give you every available resource so you could reach your full potential, and you can; no one’s stopping you. Now you can go into that meeting with your beautiful, soft personality and inspiring idealism and watch as these men tear it to shreds and back you into a corner until you lash out as you are doing now. Or, you can take your power and use it to build up systems to fight the law at its source—to address the underlying causes that lead people astray. And you have such a heart for that, Liza. You could make a real difference there, I feel, if you use your strengths wisely. Don’t waste your time with these men. It’s not worth it.”
“So you’re saying I should leave the meeting alone and start a charity instead?”
“No one will die if no one is guilty,” said Gabe. “You would be such a good influence on the people if they see more of you. You’re such a light.”
“Gabe, we’re starting now,” said Dominic from the door.
Gabe smiled. “But it’s your choice, Lady. Whatever you want to do.” He held his hand out, but she shook her head, standing like a statue as they closed the door in her face. Liza stared at the closed door.
“Oh, how cogency paints a pretty canvas of nonsense,” she grumbled. “I should be in that meeting.”
The bitter silence was soon broken by dramatic, heaving gasp
s as Catherine turned the corner. She nearly doubled over as she staggered toward Liza, panting from her run.
“Lady, I must protest,” wheezed Catherine. “Running is most…unsavoury.” She collapsed onto a bench in the corridor, fanning herself with her hand. “Oh, Avi, take me now. I’m ready. Whooh, I think I see the light. Life is fading before my eyes.”
Liza, whose face was lined with deep thought, leaned into a jog as she headed down the corridor. Catherine stared after her.
“Where are you going?” she called.
“To visit Nick in the nesting boxes,” called Liza.
Catherine slapped her thighs. “Biy’avi, we go from one difficult man to another. Someone needs to teach that woman the merits of avoidance.” She pulled herself off the bench and looked upward, forcing herself into a slow jog as she followed the Lady.
C h a p t e r 2 4
Hanging on the edge of the sky a short distance from the Palace, Cliffside Vertical Racetrack was a monolith of rock and the premier site for high stakes peregrine racing. It boasted a variety of betting lounges, restaurants and private boxes suspended from the ground, along with a moving grandstand, which followed the peregrines as they plummeted from the starting line more than two hundred metres above them. Liza stood near the rail in front of the Aaronite betting lounge, next to a portly man with a pocket watch. He clicked a button, aligning both hands on the twelve as he looked to the sky.
“Perfect timing, Your Majesty. We were just about to try La Cloche on the hundred metres,” he said.
Liza squinted upward. “Can you see them?”
He pointed. A tiny dot of red circled overhead. At the sound of a bell the dot fell, growing in size and brilliance as it raced toward them like a blaze of fiery glass. Nick lie flat on La Cloche’s back. He tugged on the reins, pulling the peregrine from the dive just past the finish line. The man clicked his watch.
“How was her time?” asked Liza.
“Less than average,” said the man. Nick circled around.
“I had to pull up early on account of her shoulder. The left wing keeps jerking and the girdle feels a bit flimsy; I think it might be a faulty cam near the coracoid.”
