by Ann Aguirre
The Court Convenes
Two weeks after Shannon arrived, I held my first court.
I saw her relatively little, but she busied herself with the decorating. When that work concluded, I’d find something else for her to do. Anything to limit the amount of time we spent together; her questions were piercing, distracting, and I had no time or patience for her emotional needs. Chance had stopped worrying about that, at least to me, as I kept him too occupied in my bed to do much thinking. He was wholly mine now, owned in a way few consorts would permit. In the past, I recalled other lovers who had wanted a rival killed or to be raised to the rank of knight. He had no caste, so he never asked me for favors.
Everything was coming together beautifully.
On that day I sat on the throne with fierce anticipation. Greydusk had located a suitable crown—not the original, of course, but it shone with impressive brilliance as the servant announced the knight from each caste. I had been cautious enough to prohibit them from bringing their own guards into the audience chamber, so a muted rumble of voices came in from the antechamber each time the heavy doors swung open. Zet had sent a contingent of Hazo warriors to add consequence—and guard my person. Four of them on either side of the throne made for an impressive display. They did not speak, merely stared with unnerving intensity.
The throne room itself was glorious. The dark tile shone like obsidian and the new hangings added an air of gravity to the chamber. Other artful touches like rare sculpture had transformed the room, and now it was time for me to meet my public.
I was not surprised to see Sybella in the forefront of my first petitioners. This time, however, I looked her in the eye and felt nothing at all beyond irritation at how she had inconvenienced me when I first arrived in the city. She dropped into a low curtsy, her graceful neck bent, and I let her stay that way until her muscles trembled from holding the pose. The balance of power had shifted, and I gloried in the juxtaposition.
“Rise,” I said at last.
“Your Majesty.” Her smile was tight, but she had dressed for the occasion in her best stamped silk, matched with real gilt on the buckles of her shoes. Her hair was a dark river, intricately twisted, and her mouth had been painted into a red bow.
“I am willing to hear your oath.”
Her expression drew even tauter, revealing lovely bones. But then, the Luren were always beautiful, so it would be more interesting to encounter one that did not possess sheer physical perfection. I tapped my nails lightly on the arm of my throne, gazing down on her with an impassive expression. And my silent scrutiny made her uneasy. She shifted her weight.
“We heard how you treated Caim.” She meant to sound confident, even silkily threatening, but my regard unnerved her enough to unravel her best intentions.
“When he came to this hall, he knew how the encounter must end.”
“Why do you suppose he did not fight?” Recovering a little poise, she tested me, wondering how powerful I was in such a hybrid form.
“Because I would have annihilated his caste like the Saremon. He showed courage in accepting my judgment, and thus the Hazo prosper.” I gestured to the eight in positions of trust at either side of me. Not that I wasn’t constantly watching them for signs of conspiracy or rebellion. In the royal house, I was on my guard at all times. It did not make for restful nights.
My reign had barely passed into its infancy. Careless hands would bring everything tumbling down.
“Yes, I had heard you brought their stronghold low.” Anxiety flared again before she dropped her eyes, unable to hold my gaze.
Good for me, if she carried word to the others. Destroying the Saremon in the heart of their strength would give the other castes pause. I alone knew I hadn’t destroyed every accursed mage—unless the Saremon had come out of hiding to foment dissidence and insurrection. Yet if the worst came to pass, I would deal with it.
“Indeed. As I said, Sybella, I am willing to hear your oath. You harmed none of my party and did not interfere with my destiny.” Without further hesitation, she dropped to her knees, and I spoke the words as I had to Zet. “Do you swear to serve me in all things, to set my will above your own, and obey my commands without question?”
“I do so swear,” she whispered.
“Rise, Knight of the Luren. I have no orders for you at this time.”
One by one, they all came: the awful Aronesti with their wings and stench, the Birsael, the Dohan, the Klothod, the Mhizul, the Noit, and the Phalxe. They swore to me on bended knee, and most seemed sincere, at least in their fear. It didn’t mean they would keep their promises. They might all be plotting, using these pledges as a means to keep my suspicions at bay until they could strike in force. But for my personal recollection of assassination attempts, my thoughts might have sounded like paranoia.
I accepted their pledges and dismissed them. No caste would be welcome in the royal palace until some time elapsed and I sent my spies to test their loyalty. There might be more chaos on the horizon, more structural reorganization necessary before I could be content with the strength of my rule in the city.
Heartsblood, the Imaron knight, came last. He was a little smaller than Greydusk, but otherwise indistinguishable apart from the aura of tangible power he radiated. “You have shown my caste great honor,” he said in greeting.
He dropped to his knees without being asked. I read fear in his alien face and a silent question. Greydusk had been serving me faithfully since the beginning; would I reward him for that? It was not beyond the realm of possibility that I would wrest power away from Heartsblood and bestow it upon my favorite—a capricious decision, yes, but one worth considering. In ages past, I would’ve done it without a second thought. I let the knight kneel in terror for several long moments while I regarded him thoughtfully.
“How would you reward one such as Greydusk? He is my right hand.”
“There is no higher honor,” Heartsblood rejoined.
Ah, clever. I decided I liked this Imaron. With five slim words, he intimated that his own station was already lesser than the one Greydusk had attained through his own merits, and therefore an insult to him, should it be offered as a prize. In the same breath, he honored me; the compliment was well crafted—masterful, truly.
Amusement shone in my expression. “You are kind to say so.”
“I would swear my oath, if it pleases Your Majesty.”
“It does.”
He was quick again, this time when he knew the right words without my prompting. Heartsblood trotted them out as if he had been studying, but with every indication of sincerity. When he finished, I said, “On your feet, Knight of the Imaron. I am pleased with your alacrity. In time, I will host a ball to inaugurate this glorious new era. Until then, be watchful on my behalf and report anything that troubles you.”
“Do you expect insurgency, Your Majesty?”
Here, I hesitated. While his wit was pleasing, I didn’t trust him. “It is always best to anticipate trouble. That way one may be surprised for the better and prepared for the worst.”
The Imaron knight flashed a mouthful of teeth. “Spoken like a true queen.”
“You will keep your finger on the city’s pulse?”
“I swear it.”
I dismissed Heartsblood then. Perhaps he esteemed me enough to keep his word on that alone; and if not, then gratitude might do it. I could have replaced him with Greydusk, knowing his loyalty was absolute. Instead, I chose to give Heartsblood an opportunity to prove himself. That might be all the rope I needed to hang myself, but I couldn’t rule this city without allies. Some would come through fear, others through respect.
Deep weariness trembled in my muscles. I glanced at the Hazo standing motionless on either side of my throne. They must be exhausted too; it had been a long day—and how odd that I would consider such a thing.
“Go to your barracks now,” I said. “I am retiring from the public eye. Clear the hall and the antechamber. I’ll see no one else today.”
M
ustering the last vestige of regal dignity, I swept from the throne room and down the hall. Demons on their hands and knees already, scrubbing the tiles to a high shine, lowered their faces so they could see nothing but the hem of my robe. I missed the freedom of the trousers and boots I’d worn on the streets, but since I wouldn’t be engaging in personal combat, I bowed to tradition and wore more impressive, ceremonial garb while holding court.
Deep down I hated it.
Some parts of this, I loathed. Unexpected, that. I’d thought once I pulled together the shambles of my court, the painful dissatisfaction would fade. But it hadn’t. With a soft sigh, I went to my rooms to change.
The future lay before me, surprisingly bleak and endless. I don’t want to be queen. I want—the thought was too foreign for me to finish. It didn’t even feel like my thought. My head ached in the worst way, and I dug my knuckles into my temples. Nausea rose to accompany the pain. I didn’t know how long I sat like that, but a soft touch on my shoulder roused me.
My vision was spotty. I turned, wondering what they needed now. “Yes?”
“You don’t look good.” Shannon sat down across from me; she and Chance were the only ones who entered my rooms without knocking. “Headache? I guess you can’t get Aleve here.”
“No.” And I feared taking a demon remedy. It might affect my human body in some unpredictable way. In time, I would deal with that problem, research reliable magickal alternatives. And I needed to think about the question of aging, as to how it pertained to the three of us. Demons had much longer natural life spans.
“Have you been avoiding me?” That was like her, some distant part of me recalled. Not letting anything get in her way. And I respected her for it.
“Definitely not. There’s just so much to do.”
But I had been, because I didn’t want her to realize how different I’d become.
“Are you sure it’s not because of Jesse?”
For a moment I didn’t even know what she was talking about. Then the memories filtered through: a tall, lean cop with a cowboy’s walk, tawny hair, and a Texas drawl. But I didn’t feel much of anything about her being with him. He didn’t belong to me. Never had.
“Honestly, I don’t mind at all.” I dug deep for some memories and the pain in my skull eased. “I was never really with him anyway. Not like you.”
“But he was into you. Not me. I just walked into the vacancy.”
That sparked a stronger response, a chemical reaction in my tired brain. The pain blossomed into a full shift, and suddenly I was on the right side of the glass, no longer screaming in silence. Oh, gods and goddesses, I’m me again.
“There must’ve been something, Shan. Maybe he focused on me because I was suitable. You’re the one he’s not allowed to have without people judging.”
“I’m nineteen,” she said angrily.
With a small pang of surprise, I realized she was. I’d missed her birthday. “I’m sorry about the forget spell. I never meant for it to last as long as it did. It must have been…confusing.”
Her brow furrowed, as she remembered. “Yeah. There were…fuzzy places, where you used to be. I couldn’t remember exactly how I got out of Kilmer. Only that Jesse was involved. He said something traumatic must’ve happened to screw with our heads. That…or magick.”
“He guessed that?”
Please, let this last. Don’t let the queen take me over before I finish talking to Shannon.
“Yeah, but he wasn’t sure on the details. I mean, we knew there were pieces missing. But the harder I tried to fill in the gaps, the worse it got. My whole head hurt and it was easier not to think about it. To move on.”
That was the nature of the forget fog. It had a little avoidance spell wrapped up in it, so that people wouldn’t stare too hard at the holes in their lives. They’d just step around them and go about their business until it wore off. In theory, that was only supposed to be a couple of hours; a day or two at most. It was more of a prank spell than a powerful one. I’d screwed it up royally to make it last two months…until she passed through the water gate and was stripped of its effects.
“I understand how it happened and I’m not upset, I promise. You had a thing for him back in Kilmer.”
“It was a crush,” she said quietly. “But I never expected he’d look at me because you’re right, you were so much more suitable.”
I smiled at her. “Just because we worked on paper, that doesn’t mean it was right. If he’d truly loved me, the feeling would’ve remained. He wouldn’t have fallen for you as soon as the obstacle in his conscious mind disappeared.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“In the beginning, I think he wanted to save me…and there was sexual attraction, sure. But it was never anything permanent. I wanted to give him a chance because I felt like I should, not because I thought we were destined to be together. I’d been telling myself I wanted a normal life, and who better to give it to me, right?”
“He’s not as normal as you think.” Furious color touched her pale cheeks, but she was grinning.
There was a frantic buzzing in the back of my head, like a giant fly caught in sticky paper. Ninlil. Let her see how she enjoys being trapped without recourse. It felt so good to talk with Shannon. God, I’d missed her.
I don’t like it at all, Ninlil shouted. I have plans. She pushed, and it was hard to hold her back. But I managed, savoring the conversation.
“Really?” I drawled the word, inviting confidence.
“Handcuffs,” she said, smirking.
Maybe it was a cop thing. That definitely would not have worked for me. She opened up by inches, telling me what I’d only glimpsed from snooping in her netbook. It was better this way, and by the time she finished talking, she was smiling, relaxed. She believed I was okay with what they’d done.
Then she realized she’d never see him again. The smile died.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“No, don’t be. I get it. I don’t want to wreck somebody’s soul just so I can make out with my boyfriend.”
“Once we finish excavating the Saremon library, I’ll put someone on researching a way to connect the realms without a gate.”
Her eyes brightened. “Like a demon phone?”
“Kind of.”
“I’d appreciate that so much, if you could. Just so I could explain.”
“You know Jesse. If you tell him where you are, he won’t stop until he finds a way here.”
“I won’t be specific. I’d just like to let him know that I’m one gifted chick who didn’t flake on him.”
“You think that would be better?”
I considered my father, who I’d thought abandoned us all those years, when it turned out he had, in fact, been taken. Just like Twila said. If I’d known he loved me and hadn’t abandoned me, would that have helped? Yes, I decided.
She confirmed my conclusion with a nod. “Totally. At least I can tell him it wasn’t my idea to take off. Otherwise he’ll always wonder.”
Like I did.
“Like I said, I’ll put someone on the spell research as soon as I can.”
“Thanks. Maybe it won’t be so bad. At least you have Chance, right? So what’s the scoop there? You back together?”
“Yes.” No doubts, no hesitations. He’d proven himself so far above and beyond the call.
“He seems a little sad sometimes.”
“I am too.”
Shan nodded. “Being stuck here?”
That wasn’t the only reason. Better not to explain what I’d done to survive the search for her. The pressure built in my head. I wouldn’t be myself—at least not this version—for much longer. The demon queen shoved hard, trying to gain dominance. We weren’t united in the sense that we shared a common purpose; it was more like two misshapen halves of a bowl had been fused together, so that stuff slopped over and ran out the sides, and the way it looked entirely depended on the angle of approach. Now the mismatched bowl w
as spinning back her away again and the cycle left me dizzy.
“Shan,” I said softly, “if I seem different down the line…it’s the strain of trying to keep us safe.”
I didn’t want her to know how schizo I’d become. I couldn’t stand it if she hated me. Or worse, feared me.
“Dude, I get it. I can’t imagine what it’s like to deal with all those demons, trying to keep them all in check.” She shivered. “It’s so crazy that your bullshit is all that’s standing between us and a hideous death.”
I hugged her…until I didn’t know why I was. I had work to do.
Pushing the girl back, I smiled coolly. “It was a pleasure.”
“Yeah.” Her expression seemed sad, though I didn’t understand why. “It was.”
The Spell of the Ball
I should have seen it coming.
For all my memories and experience, this was brand-new; Xibalba had changed in my absence. I struggled to build, but whispers came to me of discontent. I listened and nodded, and I stored them away. Certainly I did the best I could to safeguard the palace compound.
On the fourth day after my téte-à-téte with Shannon, I summoned Greydusk to the courtyard. “What do you see?”
The Imaron scanned the area. “Broken stones and decaying wards.”
“Precisely. And both represent a threat to our security.”
“I’ll have a crew repair the walls and the parapets.”
“Thank you. With your help, I intend to reinforce the protections.”
Athame in hand, I opened to the astral and assessed the eddies of ancient magick. These runes had been laid so long ago that I had no recollection of them. Ninlil first created them, but queens were always named so as to give the illusion of eternity. Purebred demons had long lives, but they were not immortal. Not even demon queens.
“Of course. What can I do?” Greydusk asked.
“These wards are old …and powerful, even in decay. I need to use you as a source. Are you willing?”
That required absolute trust, as it left both of us vulnerable. I could kill him if I pulled too much magick through him, and he could do the same to me. It was a two-way connection.
