“Athi, would it be all right if I asked something of you?”
Athel could only stare at him groggily.
Alder leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. “I know it will be hard, but when this is over, it would make me ever so happy, if you would try to find your smile again.”
“Wha-what are you talking about? Why?”
He smiled at her warmly, sincerity in his eyes. “Because your smile makes my life complete.”
Athel collapsed forward onto the table, falling into a deep sleep.
Deutzia sparkled in worry. The entire crew was fast asleep, except for Alder, as he carefully wrapped Privet in a blanket, and dragged up across the deck towards her trunk.
“Alder, you drugged the crew?” she shimmered in concern.
“Don’t worry, it’s just a little anthy root to help them sleep. They’ll have the most pleasant dreams, then be fine by morning.”
“Have you lost your mind? What are you doing?”
Alder pulled one final time, the pain in his ankle forcing him to stop and take a break. Carefully, he leaned back against her trunk and looked up. She was so massive, her branches reached out from here across the heavens, and he felt, for a moment, like he was back on Wysteria, looking up into the forest canopy.
“The forest is beautiful, isn’t it, Madam Deutzia?”
“It can be,” she answered cautiously.
“No, it is,” he asserted quietly. “It’s a good thing, a green thing, a thing worth saving.”
Alder shifted his weight and massaged his swollen knuckles. “Athel asked me once, if I could give up everything to protect it, if I would. At the time, I didn’t understand what she meant, but I think I do now. She gave up everything, her very being, her sense of self. She withheld nothing from the altar, even her own heart. She allowed the person she was to pass away, so that she could become what the forest needed in order to survive. And when she stood on the edge of that decision, even though she had already made it, she hesitated. Not because she was weak, or because she lacked resolve, but because it was the last time she would truly be herself. She drew out the moment as long as she could, not out of fear or cowardice, but simply to take one last breath of life before giving it up. Before closing her eyes, never to open them again as the person she was.”
A tear rolled down Alder’s cheek. “I think now I understand a little bit of what that felt like, what she went through.”
“Alder, what do you mean?”
He shook his weary head. “I’m not brave like her. I don’t want to die. I’m scared. I’m so scared I can barely breathe.”
Alder drew his knees in close to his chest. “Deutzia, I would like to ask something of you. I know it’s not my place, but I have to ask it anyway. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“What is it, Alder?”
“Comfort Athel for me. She will not understand. She may never understand. In fact, I don’t think it would be fair to even ask her to understand. Please be there for her in those long dark nights that are to come. Tell her, that my love for her is as undying as the sun and the stars. Tell her, that when the wind caresses her cheek, it will be my hand caressing her. Tell her, that when the sun rests upon her back, it will be my cheek resting against her. Protect her heart for me, Deutzia. You know how very delicate it is. Wrap your branches around her soul and keep it safe for me.”
Deutzia blinked worriedly. “What are you asking me, Alder?”
Alder forced himself to his knees, and with great effort, he gathered up the sleeping form of Privet, and held him before the mighty Nallorn tree.
“I have something to ask of you. Something that only you can do.”
* * *
King Koriar waved his hand over the cauldron of sand, and the particles leapt up, forming themselves into an intricate map of the Madaringian capital, the center of the city dominated by the tower, and the time barrier surrounding it.
“I never get tired of watching you do that,” Mandi chuckled, picking up Molly and hefting her up on her shoulder so she could see.
“Wow, you can even see the little people,” Molly giggled.
Odger leaned in close, his frumpled nose brushing up against the side of a tower spire on the palace and knocking it over.
“Careful,” Jhoss warned, pulling him back. “Those grains of sand are linked with the real stone on Madaringa. If you disturb them…”
Suddenly there was an explosion at the edge of the field. A housing complex burst into a cloud of sand, scattering bits and pieces everywhere. Mandi watched as the little people ran for cover and the time field flickered out.
“Did…did I do that?” Odger wondered worriedly.
“Well, I’m glad to see I won’t have to convince you to fight my father,” Mandi laughed.
“We have brought down the field six times just in the last week,” King Koriar said proudly.
“Yes, very impressive. But you’re just irritating them now. Look how close the tower is to completion. You need to really hit them, give them a bloody nose. Or, better yet, carve out their heart.”
Koriar adjusted his squat form in his throne. “Every time I send in one of my Stonemasters to detonate the rock, I put his life at risk. We must be careful. If they caught one of us, they’d learn who is behind the attacks.”
Mandi absentmindedly flicked at one of Molly’s pigtails. “They probably already know.”
Koriar began to sweat. “T-they do?”
“Stone buildings are spontaneously exploding, who else could it be? It’s not like the stinkin’ Diades can do that.”
The three Stonemasters looked at each other in worry. “But then…why have they not retaliated?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say a combination of two things. One, they’re up to their armpits dealing with the fallout from the tower plans being leaked. And two, because they know that if they hit you back, you’ll look for a more drastic tactic. One that might actually hurt their plans. At the moment, you are merely slowing them down. If I were them, I’d just let you keep mindlessly pecking away while doing no real damage until it was too late for you to change tactics.”
Odger scratched the back of his neck. “You would? I had no idea they were so clever.”
“Well, that and I’m kind of lazy. You have to understand, the Kabal is thousands of years old, they play the long game. A setback of a day or a week is barely noticeable to them, certainly not worth mentioning.”
King Koriar was clearly not pleased with his efforts being so minimalized. “So, what do we do?”
“We hit them where it counts. We destroy their plans forever, and we save your people from destruction by the seas.”
Jhoss began to sweat. “H-how do we do that? Will we be killed?”
Mandi sighed. “You Stonemasters are many things, but valiant is not one of them.”
“Rock is an enduring element. It waits out the storm, it ignores the flood. It knows that in a hundred years the glacier will pass.”
“Yes, but in this case it won’t. The whole world is dying. We need you to gather up every single Stonemaster left. I mean everyone, down to the last novice child who has just barely begun her training. We leave immediately.”
“I will not risk the lives of my people. There are so few of us left.”
“Then you condemn them to die!”
Koriar and Jhoss looked at each other, wavering.
* * *
The sun rose up on the horizon, its yellow form briefly silhouetting the surface of the waters. Thousands of tentacles, reaching up and grasping at whatever they could. From this distance, they were so numerous they looked like a field of wheat stirring, a carpet of death that would have grasped the sun itself and dragged her down were they able.
Deutzia’s branches hung low, the sails she held fallen on the deck like a funeral shro
ud. The sound of a Nallorn tree weeping was a horrible thing to hear. Like wood creaking in a fire, she wept amid the cold silent skies.
Two of her branches were held gently before her, like a mother cradling a child. They intertwined with one another, like cupped hands. All her light was gathered into that one spot, an amber glow slipping out between the leaves and wood. As the light faded, something stirred within, and her branches began to part.
Below deck, a single ray of weary light crept in through the creases in the deck above, landing on Athel’s face as she stirred into consciousness. She opened her eye slowly, and found herself staring at the side of her empty soup bowl. It seemed odd to her, though she could not quite place why it was so. Normally, Alder was obsessive about doing the dishes as soon as a meal was complete, but this was still sitting where she had left it the night before. The residue of the broth clung to the ceramic in an oily puddle.
As Athel’s hazy senses began to return to her, a feeling began creeping in at the edges of her heart. Like a sound growing in intensity, it entered her being, startling in its simplicity, alarming in its power.
Deutzia was crying.
Athel sat up, looking around at the sleeping crew with her remaining eye. “Alder…where is Alder?”
Athel scrambled to her feet, but unable to see a fallen chair on her blind side, she tripped over it and fell to the deck. Ignoring the pain, she picked herself up and ran up the stairs, stumbling and fumbling as she went.
“Deutzia! Deutzia, what is happening?”
Athel grabbed the ladder railing and climbed up as best she could, her feet slipping on the wet surface.
“I…I’m sorry, Athel. Please forgive me.”
Athel’s heart was pounding in her ears. She could feel her scars burning. It felt like her heart might burst in her chest.
“Deutzia…what did you do?!”
Athel reached the deck, and found Privet there. He had his back to her, his strong powerful shoulders slumped as he held something in his arms. He was standing, standing on his own two legs, strong and tall. Through the holes in his shirt, she could see smooth, healthy skin, where only scars and stitches had been before.
“Privet?!”
Slowly, the mighty man turned around. He was weeping, weeping so completely that his whole face was wet with it. In his arms he held Alder’s limp body.
“Alder! NO!”
Athel ran up, her heart screaming inside of her. Privet knelt down so she could reach him. Athel reached out, terrified at what she might find. Alder’s skin was cool to the touch, only the faintest of breath slipping out between his lips.
“He knew we didn’t have a chance…” Privet wept.
Athel shrieked, grabbing Alder’s hands in hers. “Alder, Alder you idiot! Why would you do that?!”
“…He had Deutzia heal me…at the cost of himself.”
“Alder…Alder, NO!”
Losing control of herself, she grabbed Alder’s thin little shoulders and shook him. She shook him so hard he grunted in discomfort.
“Alder, you big dummy! You shouldn’t have done that!”
Alder’s eye cracked open. He looked around wearily, at the edge of life. “I didn’t want…everyone to die.”
“Why do you think I’ve been doing all of this?” Athel screamed. “Why do you think I picked myself up out of the mud? Do you think it was for them? NO! I did it for you! I did it so you could live!”
Athel buried her face against his chest. She could barely feel any heartbeat at all. “Please don’t leave me, Alder. You’re all I have left. You’re the only reason I’ve kept going. Please…please stay with me. I promised you…I promised you I’d make your dream come true. I want you to see it.”
“Athel, my time is past, you need to stop lying to yourself. I’m not your only reason for living, and I’m not the only one you love.”
Athel struggled with his words. “I know…and I don’t mean to make it sound like I don’t…value the others. It’s just that…”
“Ash is going to need you now, more than ever. You need to give him your love as well as mine.”
“No, I don’t. You’ll be here to give him your love.”
Alder’s dry lips parted weakly. “I did this for you, Athi.” He struggled for breath, his chest rising and falling weakly. “The others still need you. Don’t…forget them…”
“Alder, try not to speak,” Privet sniffed.
Alder’s eyes rolled back, fighting to remain conscious. “You are…a holy daughter of Milia…”
“I can’t believe you’re still on about that! I’m not divine, okay? That’s just what they taught you to believe. I’m not an angel, I’m not holy. I’m not even a good person. I spent most of my life wasting time and running from my duties, and I spent the rest failing at everything I tried. I couldn’t save the men of Wysteria, I couldn’t save the forest. I lost my throne, dishonored my family, I led the men and women of the navy to ruin and slavery. I treated you like garbage. I failed as a wife, a mother, a Queen, and a leader. I’m a complete and utter failure in every single way, okay? I don’t deserve any of your compliments.”
Athel collapsed onto his chest, sobbing. “I hate it when you speak well of me, because all it does is remind me that the things you say aren’t true…I’m not an angel…I’m not…”
Alder’s head fell to the side. “To me…you are…you’ve always been…my angel…”
His eyes closed, and his breathing grew weaker.
“Alder? Alder no, PLEASE! Stay with me!”
“There’s nothing we can do now,” Privet wept. “He’ll just keep fading until the stillness takes him completely.”
Athel looked up, her hands clenched the fabric of his tunic, balling up into fists.
“No, there is something I can do.”
In the dark, there was a rhythmic, thumping sound of a chain being yanked against creaking wood.
Dahlia jumped at the light when Athel threw open the door to the brig where they held her. She rolled her eyes contemptuously, and returned to rocking against her chains.
“I’m here to talk to you,” Athel said, wiping her face with her sleeve.
“Here to gloat, Forsythia? I had no idea you were so petty.”
Trying to retain her composure, Dahlia reached out for her cup of water, but Athel kicked it away from her grip, shattering it against the bars.
Dahlia looked up in surprise. Athel’s remaining eye was filled with anger.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Dahlia snarled, straining against her chains.
“It hurts doesn’t it, Dahlia?” Talliun asked as she stepped up behind Athel, the stump on her shoulder bandaged up. “That void in your chest. That absolute disconnect from the stream of life. That stinking pit in your stomach that says that all of creation rejects you, wants nothing more to do with you?”
Dahlia’s eyes quivered, but she did not respond.
“It’s bitter isn’t it?” Talliun continued. “To be so utterly and completely alone? To someone like you who has lived her life basking in Milia’s sun, it’s like a night without a star.”
“And it’s going to last every day for the rest of your long life,” Athel spat.
Dahlia began to sweat. “All I have ever done, is in defense of Milia’s will. I was cut off from Milia by your evil magic, but you willingly abandoned her. My conscience is clear; how’s yours feeling right now, traitor?”
Athel drew a pistol from her belt and checked the primer charge. “Because of you, it became impossible for us to free Veritus. The great river requires all debts to be paid, and now you will hand over the balance to me.”
“What are you blathering about, Forsythia?”
“You allied yourself with our enemy, and you are going to tell us what you know to aid us in the attack.”
“You are so
pathetic. I don’t know anything.”
Athel pointed the barrel at Dahlia’s face, her eye darkening. “Because of you, Alder had to give up nearly all of his remaining life force just to give us a slim chance. A SLIM CHANCE. Now, you will tell me what you know to increase our odds, or I will shoot you.”
Dahlia spat, the foul spittle landing on Athel’s cheek. “To the pit with you! I am Dahlia Buckthorn, second born daughter of Lady Buckthorn, sister of Aden, Guardian of Juniper, a proud…”
Athel lowered the pistol and fired, striking Dahlia in the knee.
The young woman screamed in pain. “You shot me? You actually shot me, you diseased twig!”
Talliun was as surprised as Dahlia was. “My Queen…what…what are you doing?”
Athel’s eye grew darker. “You took my friend’s knee, Dahlia. Now I have taken it back. The river is balanced. What traps will we find inside Arianis Kultur?”
Dahlia stared back at her, her eyes defiant as blood dripped out from the hole in her knee. “Screw you and your entire mongrel family, Forsythia!”
Athel reloaded and fired again, striking Dahlia in the ankle. The woman screamed in pain as her amber colored blood oozed out onto the deck.
“Athel…Athel, that’s enough, don’t you think?” Talliun asked, barely able to watch.
“You took my husband’s ankle, now I have taken it back.” Athel said, her gaze as cold as steel. “How many Kabal members will we find inside?”
Dahlia breathed heavily, the pain overwhelming her. “I…I don’t know.”
“Athel, this is going too far,” Talliun warned.
Athel reloaded and fired again, hitting Dahlia in the shoulder, the sound of the bone breaking mixing in with her screams. “You took Margaret’s shoulder…”
Talliun reached out and grabbed Athel’s shoulder in disgust. “Athel, stop this, this is wrong.”
“Wrong?” Athel snarled, her eye darkening further. “She knows something. She has to. She thinks she can just come here, hurt everyone I care about, and not pay the price for her crimes? No! That is not justice!”
“Neither is this!”
Athel moved to reload again, but Talliun reached out and grabbed the weapon.
Isle of Wysteria: Throne of Chains Page 30
