The Immortal Queen Tsubame: Ascension

by H. D. Strozier

  This was the part that Bastet said he was going to have to figure out. They didn’t have the luxury of taking months or even years to earn their trust or if not their trust, at least their respect. He only had this moment, the last few days, and the last few weeks of Mekonnen’s own observations that the ancient man had no doubt told them of. Everything so far had already left an impression on them and he only had one shot at this to get it right.

  “Fine. You don’t want pretty lies,” Devdan said deciding that he had nothing to lose as it was. This entire thing had been a longshot as it was. “I’ll give you ugly truths. The Magic Council hasn’t cowered from you. They cower from no one and won’t until they’ve exhausted all their means and have been soundly defeated. They leave you alone because you’re more trouble than they think you’re worth. If you were a real threat to their power, you’d never get them to leave you alone, but they know you have no ambition for anything beyond what they’ve allowed you to have.”

  “You do well not to insult us,” Amine said.

  “It’s about time someone did. Besides, Farah’s the one who didn’t want to be pacified,” Devdan shot back. “Look at you all. We’re supposedly the descendants of gods. We supposedly fought off the gods, were the mediators between them and the non-magic people we cohabited with. We guided the same people we cohabited with into civilization. Without us, they’re lost and your continent shows it. Look at Sudan. You, Kamal, lost half your country because of a civil war you could have stopped if you weren’t so afraid to come out your palace in the countryside for fear that the Magic Council would try to get involved with your affairs and now the half that broke away from you is embroiled in yet another war.

  “Mekonnen, you sit in your palace surrounded by the magic of an ancient magic city, religious city, whatever you want to call it while you isolate yourself from the politics of your own country, not getting involved in their affairs. And Farah,” Devdan said, eyes locking with the woman who was still sitting up straight. “You think you’re really doing something owning one of the most prestigious hotels in the world. You think it makes you like the Thornes or better. But people like the Thornes own hotels and the media and at the snap of a finger make what they want to happen reality. They rule from an invisible throne while making people think they’re making their own choices. Compared to them, you’re just playing pretend in the safety of the pretty hallways of your grand hotel. And you three are the magic families with countries that are considered well off. We don’t even need to talk about the disaster that’s been going on in the Congo since the Belgium family managed to wipe out the Congolese family.”

  “And you think because you have the audacity to insult us that it qualifies you to lead us,” Farah asked.

  Devdan rolled his eyes and said, “Of course not. If that were the case, I could bring in any random American teenager to lead you. My point is that you all still act like you’re their slaves, subject to the whims of the European families that conquered you when you’re not. And that kind of thinking isn’t going to help us overthrow them and do a better job than they did. Because if you’re going to rule the magical world with the same passivity that you’ve ruled and watched over your own countries, we may as well leave it in their hands,” Devdan said bluntly, the more he spoke, the bolder he became even as the auras of many of the powerful leaders flared dangerously in warning. He didn’t want this conversation turning into a duel, but he was ready to fight them all if he needed to. Days of talking and dealing with the idiosyncrasies and diva behavior of the leaders had made him restless and itching to fight some of them as it was. He let go of the careful control of his own aura, let it flare brighter than any in the room. So much so that even a non-magical person would be able to sense that he was dangerous.

  “You sit here and call us slaves yet you’re the only one among us today that’s ever been in physical bondage. One of the few living survivors of American slavery. What makes you so different from us? How can you be so sure that you won’t simply cater to the Magic Council’s whims and rule passively as you seem so sure we will?” Farah challenged.

  It was no wonder that the African magical community admired Farah so much, Devdan thought to himself. The woman was terribly outspoken and extremely quick to say what was on her mind. Devdan was sure the woman was even ready to physically fight him if she needed to, judging by the flare of her golden aura. He may have decided to go the route of insulting her to prove his point, but she still certainly had the means to fight back anyone who opposed her and Devdan wasn’t sure if she realized that or if she was simply act stupidly courageous anyway.

  Finally Devdan said without breaking eye contact with the woman, “You can’t be sure. But none of you ever thought about overthrowing the Magic Council until I brought it up, so that has to count for something.”

  It must have counted for quite a bit, because not even the outspoken Farah could dispute his claim. They agreed to come back to him with an answer in three days, but Devdan knew that nothing ever worked that smoothly when it came to trying to work around the bureaucracy and power hunger of the Magic Council. It was why he wasn’t at all surprised to find Anya at the door to his suite the next day a little before noon.

  “You lied to us,” Anya said bluntly and promptly.

  He had been expecting her at some point to confront him about the accusations that her spy, whoever he or she was, had inevitably gone to her about. He just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. It hadn’t even been a full twelve hours. But that was cowards and Uncle Toms; quick to kiss ass so their masters and oppressor would throw them a crumb. There was always one amongst people when they were trying to challenge oppressive powers. That had been true on the plantation more than a century and a half ago when he had been helping slaves escape to the north before he was sealed, and it still was proven true again even though outright slavery was mostly abolished in the modern world.

  Instead of replying immediately, Devdan turned to walk further into his suite, leaving Anya to catch the heavy door before it swung closed on her.

  “You’re going to have to be more specific,” Devdan eventually said.

  Anya followed him into the suite, the door closing loudly behind her. As Devdan walked past the door to the bedroom of the suite, he pulled it closed so as Anya passed she wouldn’t see Adina still sleeping in bed.

  “I’m talking about you and your plans for a coup,” Anya said. “This was never about getting on the council for you or even trying to get your share of power now that you aren’t forced to follow that little witch. You have the same goal as Tsubame.”

  Devdan looked at the woman. He was sure there was a way to flip this situation. Tell Anya that what he was doing was only a ploy to get the African families to further trust him by making them think that he wanted to overthrow the council. But he didn’t have the same finesse that Bastet had with dealing with the Magic Council to use a slight of tongue to get people off his back. Not to mention that look Anya was giving him. That angry righteous indignation like he had no right, after they gave him the benefit of the doubt, to betray them like this. Like he had no honor. If he could insult the people he wanted to be allied with, he certainly had no qualms insulting Anya. Fuck politics. It was time to go toe to toe.

  He went and flicked off the television where he had been catching up on the increased terrorist attacks happening across Europe, one terrorist group had gotten so big it managed to seize an airport in Belgium. And that was the least of the politics involved in the war. According to Bastet, she’d heard from the Magic Council that the U.S. was preparing to invade Russia, no doubt with the help of the Thornes manipulative hands.

  “Let’s be honest here. You and the Magic Council can’t be that arrogant that you’re actually shocked at the idea that I essentially used you all to get a foot in the door with the African Magical communities,” Devdan said. “You really didn’t think I was going to do an about face that suddenly? But you did didn’t you? Because that�
�s exactly what you did.”

  Anya visibly faltered, more than Devdan had ever seen her falter before. MaLeila was always able to provoke the woman into speechless outrage at her audacity and rebellion, refusal to bow to the Magic Council’s whims, insistence on doing her own thing rather than being a pawn. But Anya never faltered because no one had ever called her out on her hypocrisy, the fact that she had betrayed her people to get to her place in the Magic Council. Of course the Magic Council lauded her for it, for overcoming the savagery and backwardness of her society, but Devdan was certain her people never saw it that way.

  “Unlike you, I won’t easily forget you and your council’s transgressions. And maybe that makes me no better than you all but as far as I’m concerned, it’s about time you all got a taste of your own medicine.”

  Devdan let the threat linger in the air, knowing the woman thought he was threatening to kill the Magic Council. Honestly, that would be too fucking easy. He had no intention of killing the Magic Council because letting them live through the humiliation of their downfall, maybe even binding their magic with the same spells they condoned magical slave masters to use to make their human familiars more resourceful, was much more satisfying. But people like the ones that made up the Magic Council didn’t understand that there were things worse than death.

  Devdan intended to make them aware.

  Devdan had nothing more to say to Anya after that, whether she had more to say or not. He went into the bedroom suite and locked the door behind him. Adina was awake, sitting in the bed with the covers at her waist, her torso bare. He waited until he heard the heavy door of the hotel room swing shut before he sighed and looked the woman in the eye.

  “What happened?”

  “What makes you think something happened?” Devdan asked.

  Adina stood up and walked over him, until her naked body was standing only a foot or so away from him.

  “Because I’m naked and you can still look me in the eye without an erection,” Adina said bluntly.

  Devdan sighed and said, “We’re going to have to talk with the leaders again sooner than three days.”

  Adina furrowed her eyebrows in question.

  “We’ve got a mole. And whoever it was didn’t waste any time going to Anya because she knows and more than likely she’ll be bringing the rest of the council to us.”

  17

  “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Dominik.”

  Marcel’s statement was neither accusing nor resigned, only a matter of fact that he saw fit to bring up as she was getting dressed one morning, struggling to put her hair in a crown twist around the perimeter of her head. Though she didn’t react, other than her already apparent frustration at her hair as she struggled to braid it, her heart did flutter slightly. When she was with Dominik and playing her fun flirtatious games with him, she didn’t think about Marcel and vise verse when she was with Marcel. When she thought of them both at the same time, things got complicated and she spun herself in circles trying to find a way to justify what she was doing, that there was no harm in a little flirting, no harm in a few kisses, as long as at the end of the day, she went back to Marcel.

  “Are you jealous?” MaLeila teased, finally done with the exhausting part of her braid and now finishing the ends.

  “No. So long as you know who you belong to,” Marcel teased back.

  Marcel’s comment struck her the wrong way for some reason. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something along the lines. Sometimes he liked to whisper in her ear “you’re mine” while they were in the throes of sex and passion and sure it implied a sense of possession that certainly aroused her and made her feel wanted, but something about the turn of the phrase didn’t sit right with her lately. MaLeila sighed. Even God knew where, Devdan had an influence on her. He was finicky like that about words and MaLeila had never been sure if that was her fault for always using his words against him and getting under his skin as a result, or if that was yet another trait that was a result of being a slave.

  Marcel laughed when she had been silent for a while and said, “I know that look.”

  Her back was turned to him, so she guessed he had seen her reflection in the mirror.

  “Tsubame gets that expression when she feels like someone has the audacity to think that they can control her. Sometimes the two of you act so different I forget you’re alternate versions of each other and then, you make a face and I’m reminded that you’re not that different,” Marcel said walking over to her and kissing her cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to mess up your groove. Not like I’ll get the chance to for the next couple of weeks or so.”

  MaLeila tried not to scowl. It was yet another reason she couldn’t shake the feeling that Tsubame was up something more than she was implying. All of a sudden yesterday, when she was spending the day with Marcel and taking a break from trying to unravel the woman’s logic, the woman made her way into the room in the same nonchalant manner Nika had all those months ago and said she had a task for Marcel. Marcel rolled his eyes and they went back and forth in playful banter before he shamelessly got out bed, found his clothes, put them on and then after giving MaLeila what she guessed was a longsuffering look, he followed the woman out the room. MaLeila hadn’t been bothered by it then, actually finding the resigned manner he followed her in funny. Not even when he didn’t come back until this morning as she was getting dressed was she bothered. It wasn’t until he told her that he had to leave to do an undisclosed task for Tsubame that she grew annoyed.

  “Don’t be like that,” Marcel said and then pulled her in towards him by the waist after she finished pinning the braid. “I used to go on assignments for the Magic Council all the time and couldn’t tell you what they were, and it didn’t bother you.”

  MaLeila huffed. “That’s totally different. I couldn’t have cared less what the Magic Council did or what you did for them. I knew what side I was on. But here I thought we were all on the same side and still I have no clue what’s going on and feel like Tsubame’s hiding something from me. And when I ask you about it, you shrug it off. So sorry, not sorry that it’s nagging me.”

  Marcel sighed and said, “I thought we’d gotten over this trust issue thing.”

  “Just because I got over it doesn’t mean I’m going turn a blind eye when I see it happening right in front of my face again,” MaLeila snapped. “Good God. You and Tsubame are treating me just like Devdan and Bastet used to and that’s the reason the three of us fucking fell apart to begin with.”

  “This is nothing like that situation. Trust me on that. Me, Tsubame, and Nika went through our toxic co-dependency stage. Hell, our relationship can still be that way now. This is nothing like that,” Marcel shot back.

  “I’m not talking about that part,” MaLeila grumbled. “I’m talking about the part where you treat me like there are some things that I just don’t need to know because I’m too innocent or stupid or emotionally immature to handle it.”

  “You’re not.”

  “Then what isn’t Tsubame telling me?” MaLeila asked pulling out of Marcel’s hold around her waist and turning to face him.

  “I don’t know,” Marcel finally snapped. “I know as much about everything that’s going on as you do. Even what she’s got me doing now, I don’t understand. I’m just going with it.”

  “And if you did know,” MaLeila began, “If you found out what Tsubame was really planning and she told you not to mention it to me or if you even suspected, would you tell me anyway? If it was something that totally crossed the line and you knew I’d want to stop her, would you tell me?”

  “Yes,” Marcel said without hesitation.

  “You and Devdan lie the same way,” MaLeila replied. “You answer quickly, thinking it’ll throw me off guard and get me to back off, even feel guilty for questioning or doubting you.”

  Marcel rolled his eyes in frustration and groaned, neither confirming nor denying her accusation. But it was confirmation enough for MaLe
ila.

  “At this point I really don’t know what the fuck you want from me, MaLeila,” he finally said.

  “I just want a straight answer, but fuck it. Go do whatever for Tsubame,” MaLeila muttered as she made her way past Marcel and out the room. “I’ll see you went you get back.”

  He didn’t follow her and MaLeila wondered what it meant that she was relieved by the fact rather than hurt. Even more than relieved though, she was angry about it, heart racing, body tense with frustration. She took it out with her magic as with Dominik’s guidance and the help of a family book of magic with techniques his family had discovered and honed over the years. The book filled in the blanks Dominik couldn’t explain because of his inability to manipulate distance and space. There were pictures drawn by Marie herself approximating what the magical threads that needed undoing looked like and how to rearrange them into a complicated pattern that would open a large portal to the underworld and unleash the undead army. So far, MaLeila had only been able to make a large enough portal to glimpse through and see the dark dreary purgatory where some lost and dead souls aimlessly wandered and even that was exhausting. A living world and a dead one certainly weren’t supposed to be able to make contact, and it took a substantial amount of energy to temporarily halt nature’s attempt to correct the balance and close the portal. And nature always won, so trying to keep the portal open for too long, especially when not used to the strain of this type of darker magic, could potentially make the person opening the portal part of the dead world permanently. Still it was certainly much more progress than Dominik would have been able to make with the task any time soon.

  “What’s got you so angry?” Dominik finally asked her, almost a week after Marcel left.

  “I’m not angry,” MaLeila said as a small portal opened beneath her feet, swallowing the staff Tsubame had let her borrow before it closed up again.

  “Yes you are,” Dominik leaning against a tree in the winding forest that blocked the castle from the rest of the world. “You’re using your magic like you’re in a desperate battle. You’re usually much more relaxed than this. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. If anything, you seem to get even more focused when you’re angry.”