by Lou Anders
Melantha sighed. She felt sorry for her onetime protégé, snatched away from her by the Sky Queen when the horn was found. She felt herself a better mentor than Xalthea, if the Sky Queen would even see herself in that role. But if the barbarian girl could be tamed, perhaps things could be as they were.
“Thianna’s mother was a Calderan,” Melantha pointed out. “That makes her one of us.”
“I don’t think she sees it that way.”
“No, I don’t think so either,” agreed the Land Queen. “But perhaps she can be made to understand our way of life.”
Sirena snorted in derision.
“She has a stiff back, that one. I don’t think beating on it will make it bend.”
“True,” agreed Melantha. “But there are other ways to be persuasive. The sword is only one weapon among many, Sirena.”
“What do you mean?” asked her niece. Her hand instinctively dropped to her side, clutching at a blade that wasn’t there.
“Tell me, who wouldn’t lick her fingers when they have been dipped in honey?”
—
Most of the food in the room was airborne.
Chickpea soup spattered against walls. A grilled octopus caught a young satyr square in the face. The bronze automaton stood in a chair and whipped mussel shells at unprotected heads with mechanical precision.
“A food fight?” Thianna stared at the chaos being wrought by the hostage princes and princesses.
“You have to admit,” said Karn, “this behavior isn’t much worse than the royals we’ve met before.”
A plate of feta cheese narrowly missed Thianna’s shoulder and spattered against the wall. She frowned as she watched it stick momentarily to the polished marble, then drop off to hit the floor with a loud squelching noise.
“I’ll handle this,” said Desstra, stepping forward.
“No,” Thianna replied. “Let me.”
She walked right into the fracas. She didn’t flinch when sausages and bread zipped back and forth around her. She simply strode right to the center of the room. She drew a deep breath. Karn saw and covered his ears so that Desstra would see and do the same. Thianna could be loud when she wanted to.
“Everybody freeze!” the frost giant roared.
All activity in the room ceased. The hostage royals stood gaping at the enormous girl in their midst. A lone loaf of bread, tossed before the brawl ended, sailed through the air at the giantess’s head. Thianna caught it one-handed without looking, then took a big bite from the end.
“Mmm—that’s better,” she said through a mouthful. “Now, what’s going on here?”
Several children spoke at once. “He started it” seemed to be the dominant explanation. They were all pointing at the minotaur.
“You?” said Thianna.
“I did not,” said Asterius. “You hornless folk are all too thin-skinned.”
“He did too start it,” said a small figure emerging from under the table.
“Gnome?” Thianna asked.
“Dwarf!” said the boy. “My name is Jasius, and I’m a dactyl. Just ’cause my beard’s late coming in doesn’t mean I’m a gnome.”
“Sorry, I—”
“Anyway, this one here—”
“Asterius, son of King Asterion,” proclaimed the minotaur.
“Son of a something, I’m sure,” said Jasius the dwarf. “Anyway, he said he was too good to eat with animals. Can you believe that?”
“So one of the satyrs threw a plate of cheese at him,” volunteered a human girl.
“Things kind of went sour from there,” said a boy. “It was fun, though.”
“Yeah, fun,” said Jasius. Thianna remembered that he’d been hiding under the table.
“But shouldn’t you all try to get along?” said Karn. “I mean, you’re all going to be living here together. You’re all in the same boat.”
“We are not in a boat,” the automaton said. “We are in a palace.”
“It’s an expression.”
“We have an expression about boats too,” said a satyr. “Too many opinions sink them. Who said we need yours?”
“Right. Like you were doing so well before we got here,” said Desstra.
“And what a waste of food,” said Karn.
“They’ll bring more,” said a girl with flames for hair. “Our parents will only stand for this if we’re treated well.”
“So they hang fancy curtains on our prison walls,” said the minotaur, tugging angrily at a tapestry. “Don’t tell me you like it here!”
“Then why don’t you do something about it?” said Thianna.
“Like what?” said Jasius.
“Break out,” the giantess replied.
“We wouldn’t stand a chance on our own,” said a satyr.
“Then why not team up?” asked Karn.
“Team up?” the dwarf asked.
“Work together against the Calderans,” said Desstra. “If all of your people combined forces, you’d have them outnumbered.”
“Combined forces?” snorted the minotaur. “Not with these animals.”
Thianna just had time to roll her eyes before the food started flying through the air again.
—
Sirena held the horn in her hands. She made no move to bring it to her lips. She didn’t expect it to perform any differently from last time. So why repeat the same action over and over? Wasn’t that the definition of stupidity?
The wyvern sat motionless against the wall and studied her. Even though it was the prisoner and she the Keras Keeper, she felt that it pitied her. There were only so many times you could make it wince with a loud blast and still feel satisfied. If she knew how to do anything more with the horn she wouldn’t be in this mess.
On the day of the Great Hatching, if all she could do was to set the infant reptiles shrieking in pain, she wouldn’t have control. She’d have the opposite.
And without control of the wyverns, there would be no control of the skies. Caldera was just one among dozens of major city-states across the enormous island-continent of Thica. You couldn’t rule such a territory unless you could fly. Without a clear ruler, the disparate peoples would fall into war just as quickly as that collection of bratty kids had started a food fight. Yes, she’d heard about that. Just another example of how desperately this land needed her people’s guidance. Make no mistake, Sirena knew how much was at risk. But why did it all have to ride on her shoulders?
She raised the horn again and blew a somewhat softer blast.
The wyvern shook its head as if it were chasing away an insect. Sirena sighed.
“I don’t suppose you have an irresistible urge to obey me?” she asked.
That’s not the impulse that comes first to mind, no, it said.
“Not even a little?”
I suppose I could pretend if it makes you feel better. Should I sit up and do tricks? Oh, but wait, you have me chained down. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can help you.
“I didn’t expect you to. No, I don’t think anyone can help me. I’ll have to figure it out for myself. If that big lug of a barbarian girl can do it, then…”
Sirena froze, an idea taking shape in her mind.
“If that big lug of a barbarian girl…,” she repeated. She recalled Queen Melantha’s words about honey and fingers.
You’re not serious? asked the wyvern. It was reading her thoughts again. But she couldn’t complain. The idea was crazy, Sirena knew.
“It’s not like I’m drowning in other options,” she said.
The barbarian girl caused all your troubles.
“Well, now she can fix them.”
—
The room was still a mess, with food splattered everywhere, but the atmosphere had largely calmed down. Young people sat by themselves or paced in frustration. A few even picked at the remains on the table.
All eyes turned as the door opened. A soldier marched in.
“Thianna Frostborn!” she called out.
&nbs
p; The giantess rose up from where she had been sitting.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Someone wants a word with you,” the woman replied.
“One of the queens,” Thianna conjectured.
“But which one?” asked Karn.
“Guess I’ll find out.”
Thianna looked at the eggplant and tomato smearing her clothing.
“I’m not exactly dressed for an audience with the monarchs,” she said to the soldier.
“You aren’t going to one,” the woman replied. “Your presence is requested by someone else.”
“Who?” Thianna asked, but the soldier turned and walked back out into the hallway, leaving the door open for Thianna to follow.
“I guess I’ll find that out too,” said the giantess. “Hold the fort down here, will you, Norrønboy?” she said to Karn.
“Don’t worry,” replied Desstra archly. “We will.”
Thianna followed the guard into the hallway. Behind her, the door shut and locked.
“Do you think she’ll be all right?” Desstra asked. It pained Karn to see the look of concern on her face, given the cold shoulder his best friend threw to the elf.
“She’s Thianna,” he said. “If she gets into any trouble, I’m sure we’ll hear the noise from here.”
—
“The first thing we do, let’s see about a bath.”
Thianna found herself in a large, richly appointed room, and greeting her, the girl who had bested her in the Court of Land and Sky. It hadn’t been but a few hours since this girl had pulled a tapestry down on Thianna’s head, but now she was acting welcoming and friendly. Why this change in attitude? Guards stood outside the door, of course, but no one bothered them here. Thianna eyed the smaller girl with suspicion.
She was dark of hair and eye, her skin a rich olive complexion. Like all the Thicans. Like Thianna herself. Probably about Thianna’s age too. About Karn’s size, but there was a real toughness about her. She held herself like she knew how to fight. You could tell in the way she balanced on her heels. How she stood straight. Held her arms. But there was something else about the girl that was familiar. Thianna couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but the feeling nagged at her. Like she knew the girl, or someone like her. Still, she wasn’t trying to stick a sword in her.
“A bath?” Thianna said. “But I’m not sleepy.”
The girl blinked at this. She couldn’t know that Thianna still preferred to sleep on a block of ice, which she produced magically by freezing the water in a bathtub.
“You’ve come a long way,” the girl explained. “I imagine that you’ve been on the road a great deal of time. The hot, dusty road.” She spoke slowly, punctuating her words in the hopes the giantess would take the hint. “In the heat. With the dust. On the road.”
“Actually we flew most of the way,” Thianna said. She imitated the girl’s tone. “In the sky. In the breeze. With the clouds.”
“In the same clothes?”
Thianna frowned. She was starting to get the point.
“We changed clothes once,” she said defensively.
“Only once?”
“It was just a few weeks ago in Gordasha. I had a bath then too. By accident.” Thianna smiled as she remembered her entrance into the city, tumbling out of an aqueduct into a private pool. They had swapped their northern attire for clothing more appropriate to the city then, although they had kept their britches.
“A few weeks ago!” The girl rolled her eyes.
“Yes,” said Thianna.
“Well, we do things differently here in the Twin Palaces. Come on, you’ll feel better after a bath. Certainly you’ll smell better. And you can change out of those”—she wrinkled her nose in distaste—“pants.”
“What is it with my pants?” said Thianna. “Why is everyone so upset about pants?”
“Civilized people don’t wear them. Only barbarians do.”
“Well, what of that? I am a barbarian.”
The girl thought about this.
“Aren’t you a Calderan too? Your mother was a Calderan.”
“My mother was a Thican.”
“She was a Calderan first and foremost. The Calderans are the rulers of Thica.”
Thianna frowned at this.
“Is that what you are, a Calderan?”
“Yes, my name is Sirena.”
“Sirena?” The name reminded her of Sydia, but that comparison wasn’t the reason she seemed familiar.
“After the sirens,” Sirena continued. “Dangerous women who sing from the rocks around the islands of Sarn’s Teeth and mesmerize sailors with their voice. My mother chose the name.” She paused to laugh bitterly. “She had high hopes for me. Like yours, she passed away when I was very small.”
Thianna resisted the urge to point out that Sirena was still small, at least compared to half giants.
“How do you know about my mother?” she asked instead.
“I know a lot about you,” Sirena replied. “But you can tell me more. Come. Let me treat you like a fellow Calderan and we can talk. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”
Thianna wasn’t sure she would, but the feeling of familiarity nagged at her, so she allowed Sirena to lead her into another room. This one was dominated by a huge square-shaped pool set into the floor and tiled in marble mosaic. Two female servants poured hot water from jugs into it. Thianna eyed the pool, thinking that if she froze it, then it would make a more comfortable bed than the last few bathtubs she’d slept in. She might have room to stretch out for once.
The girl motioned at the tub.
“I’m not getting in that,” said the giantess.
“Sestia, grant me patience,” Sirena muttered.
“Who?”
“Goddess of war, combat, and…strategy,” said Sirena. Then she brightened as if something had just occurred to her. “Is it true you can do ice magic?” she asked.
Thianna nodded.
“Can you show me?” Sirena asked.
“Why?” Thianna asked warily.
“I’ve never seen anyone do magic.”
Thianna couldn’t help but smile. She understood the fascination. She’d always been intrigued by magic herself growing up, and she was proud of her rapidly growing skill.
“I guess there’s no harm in that,” said the frost giant. “I just need a little water.” She walked to the tub and reached a hand down to cup some of the liquid. “I’ll do something small. Maybe make a snowball,” she explained. “Skapa kaldr skapa—” she began to chant.
Sirena approached her where she knelt, peering at the water in her palm as ice began to form.
“Amazing,” she said. “It’s really starting to freeze.” She rested a hand on Thianna’s arm. Then the girl suddenly slipped her foot across the giantess’s and gave her a twist and a shove. As Thianna was already bent over, the wrestling move worked and sent her spinning off-balance. She fell face-first into the pool.
And came up sputtering and spurting.
Her face was angry, but Sirena burst into laughter.
“You tricked me!” the giantess said.
“You have to admit, it worked,” Sirena replied. “And you really did need a bath.”
Thianna fumed, but then she nodded grudgingly.
“At least let me cool it down,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be so blasted hot.”
She held her palms above the water and chanted the frost charm. A sheet of ice formed across the surface of the pool, though it instantly began to melt.
“That’s better,” she said. Thianna sank down into the water, though she had to recline on her elbows to get it to the level of her neck.
“See?” said Sirena. “Civilization isn’t all bad, now is it?”
Thianna considered this. It was sort of pleasant. And large enough she could fit all of herself in it. Usually that took a river.
“So this bathing thing,” she said. “Calderans do it often?”
“Where is the res
t of it?”
Thianna stood looking at herself in a mirror. The looking glass would be considered full-length for anyone else. The giantess had to tilt it back to see her head in it. They were in yet another room in the suite. Why did these people need so many rooms? This one seemed to be just for dressing in. She supposed that when you changed your clothes more than once a season, you had to have somewhere to store them all. Since her own clothes were now soaking wet, she was wearing something that Sirena’s servants had furnished.
“That’s all there is,” said Sirena. “It’s supposed to hang to your ankles.”
“It barely comes to my knees,” replied Thianna. The robe was more like a tunic on the giantess. Fortunately, it was sleeveless, so her broad shoulders weren’t confined. They had given her a leather belt to bind around her waist. And the largest pair of adult men’s sandals that could be found.
“Now you look like a proper Calderan.”
“You mean a proper Thican?”
Sirena shrugged.
“You look civilized. In form, at least, if not in size.”
Thianna grunted at this. But Sirena motioned her to the door.
“Where are we going?” the giantess asked.
“There’s something I want to show you,” Sirena replied.
Thianna wasn’t sure what she thought about this girl. She didn’t trust Sirena, certainly not. But as no one was trying to put a sword in her, she was prepared to see where things went.
—
Karn studied the board game on the table. The playing field was laid out in an eight-by-eight grid, with no special markings or different-colored squares. Each team had eight playing pieces. There were six that were obviously pawns. One side’s were shaped like little wyvern riders. The other side’s pawns rode something else, a strange feathered animal that Karn couldn’t quite recognize. Then there were two larger pieces per side, a tall Thican warrior with a shield and an even larger piece that wore a crown. He desperately wanted to know how the game was played.
Karn twisted his silver ring as he pondered. Then, satisfied that he’d memorized the layout, he started moving pieces experimentally. He wanted to see if he could work out any of the rules just by shifting things around.
“You are performing these operations incorrectly,” said someone beside him. Karn turned and saw the bronze automaton glancing over his shoulder. Although it was made of metal, its face seemed capable of displaying a good deal of emotion. This close he could hear the noise of tiny gears spinning inside, whirling like some of the complicated clocks he remembered seeing in the markets of Castlebriar.
