On Wings of Bone and Glass

by M. C. A. Hogarth

  “A little… a little while… what… Almond…”

  I could scarcely blame Kelu for her shock, though I felt, for my part, a settling sorrow. If we were being visited, then there would be no miracle return to life for Almond. This was the last we would know of her, and so I watched and sealed to memory the sweetness of her gaze and the love in her voice.

  “You didn’t think God would forget us?” Almond said.

  “I didn’t think God ever knew us,” Kelu answered, ears flattening, and then hastened at the sight of Almond’s disappointment, “I just… I didn’t mean… I thought…” Marshaling herself, she said, “I thought the angel came to you because you were good, Almond. You, by yourself. That you were a genet wasn’t material.”

  “But it was,” Almond replied, serious. “And so I’m here with gifts.”

  “Gifts,” Kelu repeated, tail sagging.

  The ghost nodded. “I don’t understand how it works. The angels… you don’t talk to them, really. You don’t talk to anyone. You just… are. And you know things, but not everything, or at least, I don’t yet. Maybe I haven’t gone over completely?” She paused, pondering this with a wonder and an anticipation that made my eyes spill. Then she continued, “But I was given a Choice, and Choices come to the races of the earth.”

  “We’re not one of the races of the earth,” Kelu said, her voice unsteady. “We’re constructs. Sorcerer’s toys.”

  “We were,” Almond said. “We’re not going to be anymore. Tomorrow all of you will wake up with decades in front of you.”

  “Almond,” Kelu whispered, trembling.

  “And some of you are going to wake up boys,” Almond added, so apologetically I started laughing. Both of them glanced at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and then found myself consumed by another attack. Pressing my fingers to my mouth, I added, “About laughing, not about your having to become male. I assure you, it’s not all so bad as that.”

  Almond shook herself, then said to Kelu, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I thought you could be the first genet boy.”

  “Genet man,” Kelu muttered. “Genet male?”

  “Genet king,” I offered.

  Now their glances were speaking: Almond’s, approving, and Kelu’s panicked. To the latter, I said, “It’s not all so bad as that, being king, either.”

  “No,” Kelu said, firm. “No, I’m sorry.” She looked up at Almond. “I really am, but I’m not the person for that job. I’m…” She sucked in a breath. “I’m bitter, Almond. I’m still so angry. I don’t know how to be anything else. If… if it’s true that you’ve won us decades to live, maybe I’ll have the time to change. But if we’re about to become a real race, you need someone in charge who isn’t still full of hate.”

  I expected Almond to argue this, but she only nodded. “Do you have any ideas who we should pick, then?”

  “Emily,” Kelu said promptly. She eyed me, then told Almond, “I know the elves think that only men should be kings, but we can see how well that’s worked for them. We should have female queens and heirs. Emily would be the first to say so after all the stories about equality Ivy’s been filling her head with. Who knows, maybe it’ll have done some good. And Serendipity’s going to be too busy being the first genet mage…” She trailed off. “That’s real, isn’t it? She can do magic.”

  “She can,” Almond said. “And she will be a great magician once the change goes through.” She tilted her head. “So you won’t be king. But will you be male? I told the angel I thought it would suit you. The magic… you know in us it will be like in every other race. I thought you’d like the ‘shape the world’ magic better than the ‘shape people’ one.”

  Kelu’s ears flipped back. “It would feel more natural.”

  “She prefers to shape people by biting them,” I agreed.

  “You’re taking this very lightly,” Kelu said, tail lashing.

  “Yes,” I said. And couldn’t help my grin. “Yes. Because God is great, and who couldn’t laugh knowing that?”

  Almond sighed, beaming. “Oh, Master. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, Almond. You taught me… you taught me so much.”

  She shook her head. “But once I’m gone this time, I’ll be with you always. I think that’s how it works. I’ll be in the world. And in every new genet that’s born. There will be genet babies! Can you imagine how sweet they’ll be?”

  “I can’t, no,” I said. “But I am eager to find out.”

  Her sigh this time was replete. Returning her attention to Kelu, she said, “So, you’ll do it? I’d like someone to have the change before everyone else so they can be prepared.”

  “I will, yes,” Kelu said, and hesitated. “What… do I do, exactly?”

  “Just stay, just like that.”

  Kelu straightened and lifted her chin, hands fisted at her sides. “I’m ready.”

  Almond smiled, then leaned forward until her glowing nose brushed Kelu’s. Just that: a benison, a touch, and with it… a change. A subtle one: the fur running down Kelu’s back darkened and developed spots, and I thought her muzzle and shoulders grew a touch broader. But without glancing at her groin, I would not have thought her different.

  “There,” Almond said. “Better?”

  To my surprise, Kelu blinked back tears. “Better,” she—he said, voice too husky for me to discern any difference in pitch.

  “Promise me if Emily wants you for king-consort you’ll think about it?” Almond added.

  “Since she’ll have years to badger me into it, I guess I’ll have to.” Kelu wiped his eyes. “Almond… I never said…”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “But I want to.” Kelu lifted his muzzle. “I loved you.”

  Almond poured off the altar in a river of silt, reforming in a spectral embrace with the other genet. “I know. But I’m so glad you said so. Maybe you’ll learn to say it to other people now.”

  “Maybe. Maybe.”

  With a glad sigh, Almond swirled back and came to me. “I have to go. You’ll make sure everyone is all right?”

  “I’ll take especial care of them until they can stand alone,” I said. “But I don’t think that will take much time with Emily for queen and Kelu to chivvy them into making their own decisions.”

  “I don’t think so either,” Almond said, ears pricked. “Please take care of the drake too. There will ever only be one of them, from what I understand. For as long as any of us will know, anyway. Maybe in a few thousand years there will be a new choice, and a new race.”

  “And maybe they’ll tell stories of the first drake, who ferried flowers to and from a tiny animal’s wedding?” I said.

  She giggled. “Maybe.” And wrapped herself around me. I could just sense her, enough to get my arms around her, but it was like holding a memory, and light, and a slip of happiness. My body wanted to weep and smile, so I did both. “Master,” she said softly.

  “Almond,” I said. And ridiculously, added, “You were right about the glasses. I was sad to lose them.”

  “You’ll do all right without them now,” she said. “The gift of reading people will stay with you, I promise. I’ll make sure.”

  Parting from us, she hovered over the altar, turned and looked at the chapel. “It’s so pretty. I think I like it better than the Cathedral….”

  “I knew you would,” I whispered as the light began to dim.

  “Goodbye!” Kelu added, voice cracking.

  And then she was gone. For true this time, without even the silt of her reduced body for remains. All we had of her was the collar… and the tremendous gift she’d given all the genets. Perhaps that’s why Kelu offered the former to me.

  “You should have it,” he said, voice quivering as I took it. “Since we’ll have… everything… everything… else….”

  I drew him into my arms as he sobbed, and hid my own tears in his hair. They were quieter than his, though; I had already done my mourning twice.
I had room now only for awe, and for joy, and this he saw in my face when he sat back and rubbed his face.

  “Crying makes my nose stop up.”

  “It’s rather longer than mine,” I said. “I can’t imagine it’s comfortable.”

  Kelu eyed me. “You’re going to be insufferable again, aren’t you.”

  “I already am, I think.” I set the collar on the altar. “Especially since I have been waiting for this moment for months now.” Taking a deep breath, I held my hands out and said, “SO! Kelu! Do you have a plan?”

  Kelu folded his arms and glowered. The corner of his muzzle twitched and then he barked a laugh. “You really have been waiting months to say that, haven’t you.”

  “I had no idea until this moment that this was the case,” I said, somber. “But as it turns out… yes. Yes, I have.”

  He laughed, rubbed his arms, watched the fur fluff up on them. “I guess my plan is ‘go back, wake up Emily, and have a long talk with her.’”

  “A good beginning,” I opined. “If rather strong on improvisation and short on measurable goals. Yes, please, scowl. It’s more in keeping with your character.” I waited until he was grinning before I finished, “Are you sure? About not being king.”

  “Completely,” Kelu replied. “I don’t want the job. Emily’s the one who likes to make plans and do things. I was always just… just trying to get by without getting hurt. And now this happens….” He rubbed his eyes. “I just… I can’t. I don’t know how to react to any of it. Except maybe to think I need pants.”

  “You look fine.”

  “I look fine by my standards. I suspect by human standards I’ve suddenly become indecent. Besides, dressing in clothes will help you people start thinking of us as another race and not as animals you can keep as pets.”

  I chuckled. He really had no idea what he was bound for, with such a mind. I wondered how long it would be before I lost him as advisor, for Emily would need him… and found I didn’t mind.

  “She was… she was extraordinary, wasn’t she?” Kelu said softly, looking at the altar.

  “She was the mother of your race,” I said. “And I hope you will venerate her as such.” At Kelu’s glance, I added, “Just think. The genets have had their first visitation! The last such visitation established the human Church. Only think what you can do with this one.”

  “You really are impossible.”

  “And I shall continue to be for the rest of my life, which you will now live long enough to witness.” I stood and offered my hands. “In the meantime, you have work to do.”

  “I can get up—” Kelu paused, then sighed and put his hand in mine. “But you can help.” Standing, he added, quiet. “Thanks. Thank you. For everything.”

  We considered one another. Then I turned the collar in my hand and unhooked the tag. Handing him the leather, I said, “Keep this piece. I’ll keep the other.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, hesitant.

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to wear it,” I said. “But…”

  “No,” Kelu said, studying it. Reaching for his neck, he paused… then in a quick motion undid the buckle and pulled off the collar. Was he expecting to vanish in a swirl of magic? Perhaps we both were waiting for it to happen… but it didn’t. The genets were their own people now, constructs no longer. I silently accepted the dark collar so Kelu could buckle the white one on that had served Almond for so long. Patting it, he said, “It’s strange to put it on myself.”

  “And with no tag,” I said. “You belong to yourself now.”

  Kelu’s ears sagged. “I guess this means I have to name myself, doesn’t it?”

  “You did say that when I could take the collar off of you, that I could name you,” I answered, fighting a lopsided smile. “You seem to have arrogated that privilege to yourself... as usual.”

  “I like doing for myself,” Kelu muttered.

  “And now you can do for all the genets.” He looked up at me and I finished, “So what will you do first, Kelu First Genet?”

  “Now,” Kelu said, “I go have the craziest conversation with Emily that either of us has ever had.” He grinned crookedly. “Good night, Morgan.”

  “Good night, Kelu,” I said, and watched him go.

  “God is good,” I whispered to the empty chapel. And then, holding the medallion in hand, I left it for my own bed, and the love waiting for me there.

  32

  The upheaval that followed Almond’s gift guaranteed that any diplomacy we hoped to accomplish would have to be delayed, and in that spirit we turned from our original aims to cementing a schedule of talks across all three nations and peoples. Our first summit would take place in Troth’s winter, in Serala to take advantage of the climate. After that, spring would find us in Evertrue, and summer in Vigil. If more discussions were necessary, we would continue the rotation… but for now we all agreed to a recess so that the genets could consolidate, the Archipelagan humans could return to Serala, and the rest of us could settle wherever we decided. Guy agreed—with some irritation—to become liaison to Serala, but only because this involved working with Chester, whom I’d appointed my deputy there. Radburn, fascinated by the new Kelu, had become the impromptu human advisor to the genets, and when he wasn’t advising the new males on how to cope with manhood, he was expounding on either poetry, magic, or siege weaponry, and God help me but some of the genets were curious about all three… Emily in particular. “Maybe we can sell you cannons,” she said, eyes twinkling.

  “Winfred, have mercy on us,” I said. “Genet-made cannons. Your teeth are fearful enough without adding shot to your arsenals.”

  It was the beginning of winter before we were able to separate ourselves from Evertrue and return to Vigil, and I had no sooner arrived than I begged leave to depart. One of the first buildings Kemses had ordered erected in the new Vigil was what amounted to a palace for Amhric’s use when he was in town, a palace of bridges spanning what would soon again be a river: this to replace the former palace underground, which had been cordoned off as a future shrine. The restoration of Vigil was well underway and even now it was a place of delicate architecture, high stairs and bridges and towers that gleamed like opals beneath the winter’s cool sun. It was in this palace that I advanced my request to Ivy, who was unpacking.

  “And where do you want to go now?” she said. “I was hoping we could settle down for longer than a month…!”

  “And I think here we shall do so,” I said. “But I have an errand to run to the Archipelago and I fear to leave it any longer.”

  “Something one of us can accompany you on?” She glanced at me, but knew the answer already.

  “No. But… I promise it isn’t a dangerous one. And I’ll explain when I return.”

  She sighed, chuckled. “You know you don’t have to ask my permission. Or anyone’s. You’re a prince now.”

  “It’s because I’m prince that I must,” I said. I smiled at her. “Perhaps not for permission so much. But I must make excuses for my absences.”

  “You’re a wanted man these days,” she agreed, and laughed. “All right. I have enough to do here, what with the politics and the athenaeum and the genets and everything else...! And this palace... really! I’m going to be a while figuring out what Kemses was thinking. How are we going to furnish a place this big? And did he expect Amhric to use it?””

  “I think he expected me to use it. And where I go, the king is sure to follow, at some point.” I kissed her brow. “I’m for provisioning. I will see you ere I go.”

  I made then what I felt was my last journey in the interstice between the life of Morgan Locke, crippled human scholar and cynic, and Prince Morgan, who had been washed clean of his bitterness and given a new life and rather more to fill it than any one person could hope to encompass, and that… that too was a blessing. The drake and I walked through the Door, and from there I pulled myself astride. Beneath a gathering thunderstorm that never quite breached the coast, we
flew, with the darkness weighing the sky at one shoulder, and the clear bright sky on the other… like a revelation of choices made plain, and the drake flying directly between them. I laughed in delight at the sight and held up my arms to the wind, breathed in the heat and the distant actinic sparkle of lightning.

  We came, at length, to the sorcerer’s tower.

  As Amhric reported, Sedetnet had rooted it in the earth, and yet it looked no less uncanny: a single spire in the middle of a featureless plain, with nothing to be seen on the horizon save the sky and grass, and the occasional distant palm. The drake glided to the ground—did it remember coming here before?—and disposed itself to wait, head in its arms, as I approached. No sign betrayed anyone else’s coming; no one had disturbed this place since it had been left. I expected no differently.

  I set my hand on the door and pushed, and it let me in.

  And laughed, because the bottom of the tower was empty. Of course? Why would he have bothered to create any rooms or décor in it, who had never used it? I started up the sole feature of the tower’s base, the stairs, and climbed, savoring the few memories I had of Sedetnet: strange and menacing and mad and beautiful, with his unexpected kindnesses lancing through him like starlight through a grimed glass pane. Those memories clouded my vision when I reached the topmost room where we’d had our interview. I caressed the seat where he’d bound me, there to show me in the mirror what I might be. From there I wandered to the bedroom, to sit on the sheets, smell them, think of that night. A challenge? A gift? Of hope, perhaps, to draw me onward in defiance of my agonies. Had he known everyone so well, or was it only me he’d had this insight into?

  I stroked the nearest pillow, then rose and continued my wanders. It was not a large suite, and yet I missed the small table until I was almost ready to quit the premises. There, as I somehow knew there would be, rested a folded piece of paper, held down by a pair of dice. I gathered them in my hands, rolled them in my palm, then read the note he’d left me.