The Rift War

by Michelle L. Levigne

  "I do this because I must. Because it is the duty I was born to, millennia ago."

  "This doesn't make any sense. You ran, you... You led us into that tunnel, essentially. You and your friends set up a trap, whether you intended it or not. People are dead and it's your fault." She glanced quickly at Grego, and then away. "All of you."

  He supposed that was a good sign of where she would stand when it came time for the ultimate choice. Being branded a traitor to Goarlotte-Welcairn and the Directorate was easy to accept. Grego realized he had hoped to see admiration and wonder and excitement when Brysta realized that all his Archaics "games" were based in a reality stronger, brighter, more worthwhile than anything their modern world could offer. He had hoped she would gladly cast aside the life she knew, and join him in this world of magic and quests and honor.

  "The deaths of intruders who were told to turn back?" Emrillian said. "Intruders who were warned, and who invaded private property, to take by force what they could have had if they had asked. You know Grego is a good friend. We grew up together." She gestured and he stepped up closer to her and turned to face these people, most of whom he knew, even if only casually. "If he had come to me and asked if we had star-metal on our property, and asked if he could take some for his studies, my grandfather and I might have considered cooperating."

  "You expect us to believe that?" a man snarled from the back of the group.

  "She is Emrillian Warhawk, queen of Quenlaque," Baedrix said, his voice like ice. He stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his sword, soft shimmers of red-tinged magic flaring out from his wrist and from Braenlicach. The group of Directorate people split apart, to leave the speaker standing alone, wilting before the Regent's disdainful glare. "The Queen has no need to lie."

  "You should have turned back the moment you knew your weapons would not function. Who is responsible for the deaths of people inadequately armed?" Emrillian said. "The equipment invented to drain power from star-metal threatens the safety of this land. It could crack the foundations of the entire planet. We must act to protect our world and time, as well as yours. This is reality, dreams come true. You have several choices. Stay here. Teach my people about Moerta. Join our cause to protect our world. Or give me your oath that you will not work against us, and that you will try to convince the others in the Directorate to give up the star-metal project. You can return to Moerta with my blessing and protection."

  "Your protection?" Brysta shook her head, her mouth twitching in bitter amusement. "More tricks? Your grandfather's light shows?"

  "Magic. And teams of Valors to travel the tunnel with you and protect you against the drakags and rixils that remain."

  "And if we don't want to play your games? If we don't trust you?" She met Grego's gaze again, and the pain, pleading and frightened anger in her eyes struck him like a blow.

  "Then you cannot be trusted. Oh, and don't think you can make false promises, and then return to Moerta and give information to the Science Directorate to use against us," she added. "Magic will allow us to look into your deepest thoughts, even put compulsions on you not to speak or do anything to work against us."

  Grego shivered, remembering the spell Mrillis had worked on him, with his permission, to block his memories so he could function normally and buy them all time to prepare for the flight to Lygroes. He could imagine all the horrors of the unconscious mind these people would suffer if they had that done to them against their wills.

  "I already know your answer, Dr. Reynod," she continued. "No oath will be asked because you choose not to believe." Emrillian snapped her fingers. Green sparks shot from her hand and hit him in the throat. He went to his knees with a yelp, voice evidently restored. "Do you know the legends, true and false, about my father's other sister? If Megassa were here, she would invade your thoughts, twist your minds and souls to her purposes. But we don't use Megassa's dark magic." She gestured, and the Valors standing guard on the Directorate people herded them closer. "Have no fear of that."

  "Are you trying to justify our deaths?" Dr. Reynod said.

  Obviously, he still hadn't learned his lesson, despite his enforced silence. His voice wavered from forced bravado. His back stayed stiff and straight, his chin jutting forward in belligerence.

  Emrillian sighed and shook her head. "There are so many options." She looked up at Baedrix when he took his place on her right hand.

  "What is the chance that if we let all of them stay here and observe and learn the truth for themselves," Baedrix said slowly, thoughtfully, "they won't grow into a danger?"

  "Let us stay? More like keep us prisoner," the unnamed man said. Anger and dismay drove away much of his fear. He stepped up next to Dr. Reynod. "You must send us back to Moerta. In fact, I demand it!"

  "You are in no position to make demands," Emrillian said. "I have been entrusted since my birth--no, since my conception--with the safeguarding of this land. Of the entire planet, whether you want my guardianship or not." She shook her head. "I don't have time for this."

  "What are you going to do?" Grego asked, moving over to stand on her other side. "Put them in a holding tank? Can you spare the guards, the manpower and effort and supplies?"

  "Who says we have to?" She shook her head, frowning, eyes narrowed, as she looked over the Directorate people who stared back at her. "Grandfather will probably be disappointed, but I just don't want to deal with this stupidity anymore. Sleep!"

  She reached up with both hands, grasping thick golden Threads that became visible as her hands closed around them. Grego felt as if all the air around him was sucked away for a moment, and a spider's web of smaller golden and white and brown Threads expanded to wrap around all the Directorate people. All except for Brysta.

  They froze. Then their heads tipped back and their limbs folded and their eyes closed just before they hit the ground in limp heaps.

  A single pair of hands clapping made everyone jump. Grego turned to see Meghianna coming up to rejoin the group.

  "Very nicely done, my dear. You have a wonderful future as Queen of Snows, if you ever decide to give up being a warrior queen." A merry laugh bubbled from her when several Valors reacted in horrified shock at the suggestion. Grego was relieved to realize the woman was joking. "Now, visitors from the unkind, cold future, perhaps in your dreams you will think on what you have seen and heard, and make a wiser decision when you are allowed to wake."

  "Take them all to the tower. Make them comfortable. They will be safe until we have time to deal with them better," Emrillian said.

  "What about me?" Brysta said. She staggered through the tangle of her limp companions, reaching out a hand for Grego. "What are you going to do to me?" Her knees folded and he leaped to catch her, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her up.

  "Teach you," Meghianna said. She shook her head. "Ah, yes, I can see that you are very important to our loyal Lord Grego. He suffers a pain he never anticipated, when he swore loyalty to Quenlaque and the Warhawk. Because of you?"

  Brysta tipped her head back, staring into Grego's eyes.

  "Trust me," Grego said, his voice breaking. "If you can still love me, after the secrets I held from you... Just trust me. I want to share all this with you." He turned to Meghianna. "Is there any chance she has imbrose, maybe? She's one of the most brilliant theoreticians I've ever met. Shouldn't she be able to figure out, to adapt, to..." He sighed.

  "You think I'm brilliant?" Brysta's mouth trembled, hinting it wanted to smile, and that gave him hope.

  "You don't think I fell in love with you just because you're gorgeous and fun and you have a wicked sense of humor, do you?" He turned to Meghianna and Emrillian, and beyond them he was caught by the relieved, delighted expression of dawning comprehension on Baedrix's face. Their gazes met. The Regent sobered immediately and bowed to Grego.

  "You are a scholar," Meghianna said. "Yes?" She held out her hand when Brysta nodded. "All scholarship and wisdom, all history and healing, has been preserved in the Stronghold."
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  "It's real?" Brysta whispered.

  "Very real." She took a step closer, holding out both hands now. "Come, scholar, and learn. Judge for yourself. The Stronghold is the safest place in this land, in the face of the war to come."

  "Please, Brysta," Emrillian said, resting a hand on the other girl's arm. "Trust us. I do count you a friend, because you mean so much to Grego. You will be safe. I promise. You will learn about star-metal first-hand, and be the first from Moerta in two thousand years to explore the archives of the Stronghold." She nodded to Grego. "And hopefully, you two will have a chance to be together, when everything is said and done."

  Brysta met Grego's eyes, and something he dared believe was hope warmed the chill of fear and uncertainty. Nodding, she put her hands into Meghianna's, and the Queen of Snows led her away.

  "I am sorry," Baedrix said, stepping up next to Grego, pitching his voice soft and low. "It takes great strength and sacrifice, to choose honor and duty over the woman you love."

  Grego was positive now he saw a spark of something like happy relief in the other man's eyes. He remembered what Ectrix had said that first day when they had arrived here. Could Baedrix have been worried that he and Emrillian were bound together as more than friends? Could the Regent be interested in her so soon?

  What exactly did happen on that short trip to the Stronghold? Grego fought a grin when it occurred to him that maybe Emrillian hadn't been saving herself for a cold, politically astute marriage of state after all. Baedrix was intense, devoted to duty, but there was nothing cold and emotionless about him, by any means.

  * * * *

  Emrillian had not realized before how much work was involved in just listening and thinking and weighing the consequences of what went on around her. She scolded herself often during the intense discussion held over the noon meal, for thinking that being a queen would have any moments of ease and amusement. Long before the meal was over, she wished to be back on Moerta, eating from a tray in the library. The press of her studies and the solitude seemed like paradise, compared to her seat at the head of the huge trestle table. Every gaze was on her, and conversations slowed every time she opened her mouth to speak. Her only comfort was that Grego had somewhat the same treatment or reaction. And Shalara and Karstis as well, because they were included in the discussion. But that led her to wonder if her Valors treated her as they did because they considered her an outsider, a novelty.

  Then again, the fact that Meghianna sat next to her might have been part of the problem. People openly stared at the Queen of Snows, and went pale whenever she looked them in the eye, or blushed and stammered when she addressed them. The few times she spoke, all conversation in the tent died completely. The only people who didn't react in subservient fear or awe or both were Baedrix, Eleanora and Ectrix.

  Emrillian suspected when her aunt had been alone with Eleanora and her younger brother after they arrived that morning, she had charmed them and convinced them she wouldn't freeze them with a glance or eat them alive. They addressed her as Grandmother, which visibly pleased her. Baedrix did as well, but he still stumbled over it, which amused Meghianna.

  Emrillian suspected that she had to learn how to charm people into accepting her as one of them, and somehow get around the high wall created by glamour and great power, just like her aunt had done. Otherwise she would never be at home here in Lygroes.

  Courage. It shall grow easier in a while, Meghianna said through the Threads.

  Magic, or being a proper queen? she retorted, feeling her spirits lifting.

  You will never be what the dowagers and stalwarts of your court imagine as a proper queen. Meghianna's muted laughter came through their link, and she reached under the table to hold Emrillian's hand and strengthen the link. There is too much need of change in Quenlaque. Half your duty is leading by example.

  Are you warning or encouraging me?

  Both.

  When the meeting ended, late in the afternoon, they immediately set about striking camp. The plan was outwardly simple, and Emrillian had learned long ago that the simplest plans worked best. The only flaw was that they were splitting their numbers.

  Meghianna would take her recruits from the Archaics and return to the Stronghold. She would begin their lessons and awaken the star-metal hoarded in the depths of the Stronghold, to tap as much power as possible for the battle to come. Her new Queen's Ladies would have one task--to help her gather the power and send it out again across Lygroes, to feed to those who would need it in the battle to come.

  Mrillis and Graddon had not been physically present, but through Meghianna they had listened in and participated in the discussion. When they had completed their spying mission and assessed the magical and military strength of the Encindi, they would split up. The goal was to have the three strongest enchanters in Lygroes spread equidistant across the continent and then merge their imbrose with the dome, to bring it down under their control, at their choosing and timing.

  If the Science Directorate got its ships close enough to the Death Zone to drain power from the Threads before they were in place, the three enchanters would do their best to keep the collapsing dome from raining destruction across Lygroes, and then spreading on to impact the rest of the world.

  Carious would lead the combined forces of the Valors and Archaics, to ride to Quenlaque and rouse the army. After that he would ride to every estate and send out soldiers and warriors to the borders of Lygroes, in preparation for the fall of the dome. They would face Encindi warriors as well as soldiers from the Science Directorate, and possible enemy soldiers from any other Moertan countries that came out in reaction to what the Goarlotte-Welcairn people were doing.

  Emrillian and Baedrix had the most crucial task of all. She didn't like being separated from the battle and not participating in helping to guard against the crash of the dome, but she agreed with Mrillis' assessment and Meghianna's theory. Twice before, the Zygradon had reacted to massive expenditures of magic that drained the Threads. Both times, Meghianna and Mrillis had been too busy to follow the chimes and the stirring in the Threads, to find the place where the bowl had been hidden centuries ago. When the dome came down, whether by choice or not, the Zygradon would react.

  Emrillian and Baedrix would ride to the general area where the first Emrillian and her companions had been when treachery struck and she had separated from them to hide the Zygradon. Between them, with the heritage of their ancestors linking them to the bowl of magic, and with Braenlicach to reinforce the link, they would find the Zygradon.

  With the Zygradon in their possession and with Braenlicach, they would race to the tunnel to awaken and heal Athrar. With the knowledge that Ynfara had been feeding to him all this time about the modern world, through the link with Emrillian, Mrillis and Grego, Athrar would be ready to lead in the defense of Lygroes.

  If Edrout doesn't stop us and steal Braenlicach and use it to destroy the Zygradon and perhaps kill Grandfather. If he doesn't realize what the Directorate is doing and attacks the dome, to help bring it down even faster, Emrillian said, when it was just her, Meghianna, Mrillis and Graddon in the link together.

  We have no control over the future, we have no way of changing the past, Mrillis said. All the Estall asks of us is to do our best, do what is right and true and honorable. If we fail, we will stand before our maker with our heads held high, knowing we served well.

  But I do not think we will fail. We might not attain all we planned, but we will not fail. The world that comes of this battle... I think it will be something none of us can imagine, Graddon said, and his warm, rumbling chuckle came through the Threads, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.

  * * * *

  "There is so much your time knows about our land," Carious said, his voice pitched low for the quiet of the night. The company had been riding since dusk, not even pausing to eat dinner, passing skins of water and wine and cold meatrolls among them when they were hungry or thirsty. "Tell me, what magic weapons did my
ancestor, Valor Dedorian, wield?"

  "Your ancestor was Dedorian?" Karstis' eyes widened. "Just when I think I'm getting used to all this..." He laughed and shook his head. "He's one of my heroes. There's a division of the Archaics devoted to him. Valors of the Order of Dedorian. Men and women whose real life actions equal the ancient Valors."

  "Women?" Rafe asked. He was a year younger than Ectrix. His voice broke and squeaked on the single word. "Sir, ladies are to be protected, are the heart and soul and music of our lives. If they go to war--" He stopped, his voice cracking, when Grego chuckled.

  "We've found ladies aren't weak and ethereal," he said.

  "Are there many maidens like Shalara in your world?" Carious asked eagerly. He looked over his shoulder.

  Riding next to him, Baedrix also looked back to the middle of the party, where Emrillian, Eleanora, Shalara, and Meghianna rode together, talking quietly and intently, to all appearances. And totally oblivious to the studying glances of the Valors around them. Before dawn, their party would split, each group heading off in different directions.

  "Is your heart taken?" Baedrix teased. He burst out laughing, muffling the sound a moment later, when Carious looked away. In the shadows and moonlight, he could have sworn his friend blushed.

  "Yes, there are," Karstis hurried to say as the other Valors opened their mouths to speak. "We learned a long time ago, women would rather be partners than objects."

  "Objects?" Carious shook his head. "Your meaning eludes me."

  "Women have as much to fight for. Their minds can grasp rules of warfare, engineering and science as easily as the arts." Grego took up the thread when Karstis paused. "They're strong. Not the delicate flowers the minstrels would make them. Would you want to labor and deliver children?"

  "No." Baedrix shuddered, thinking of Naylia and her suffering at the end. If he could have taken her to the Stronghold, Meghianna could have saved her life, but labor had come on her too early. Even if she could have survived the journey to the Stronghold, her terror of the place and of the Queen of Snows would have killed her. "I see your point."