Shades of Prophecy

by Tessonja Odette

  “Not one, Your Majesty.”

  I dismissed the messenger and moved to the window, brow furrowed as I reflected on Larylis’ second note. Cora and Mareleau departed this morning, it had said. The book didn’t contain as much help as we’d wanted. Cora thinks the Forest People might have a clue about how to find Ailan. Mareleau insists on going with her. They have said they will return once they speak to the Forest People.

  I could almost hear Larylis’ empty tone through his sparse words. It was clear he felt just as disappointed as I did. What could the Forest People possibly know about finding Ailan or stopping the dragons? Regret coursed through me, making me wish I’d gone with her. At least then I’d understand what is going on.

  “No dragons,” Helena muttered, shaking me from my thoughts. “Do you think that means anything?”

  “Maybe,” I said, considering the news under a different light. I thought about how many days it would have been since the message had been sent. If Cora had used her powers to Travel, they would already have arrived with the Forest People by now. I hesitated before voicing the hope that rose within me. “Perhaps they’ve already found what they were looking for. Maybe the Forest People had the answer all along.” I met Helena’s eyes, seeing a reflection of my hope in them. “They could have taken care of the dragon problem already. Maybe even found Ailan herself.”

  “Then they will be back soon. We should hear word again in a few days, right?” Helena’s tone was confident, but she trembled, wringing her hands. The gesture seemed appropriate, considering her worry, until I realized she wasn’t trembling but shivering.

  My eyes darted to the hearth, and I was surprised to find it had yet to be lit for the day. “I’m so sorry, Helena. I hadn’t realized how cold it is in here. I’ll call for the hearth maid at once.” How had I not noticed the lack of a fire until now? Too much on my mind, I realized with a shake of my head.

  “Don’t bother,” Helena said. “The hearth maid seems to have run off.”

  I paused. “Run off?”

  “She is supposedly missing. I haven’t had a fire in my room all morning and no one seems to know where the girl is.”

  I let out an irritated grumble. “Then someone should have been appointed to replace her.” I opened the door and ordered the hearths be tended to immediately, beginning with my study.

  When I returned to my seat, I sank back and rubbed my brow. “How did I lose a hearth maid? How did an entire set of daily duties go uncared for all day?”

  Helena came to my side. “These things happen, Teryn. You must remember, your household is still considered new. You will soon learn that even the most established households make mistakes. Sometimes your help runs away. Sometimes they fall ill and forget proper protocol to inform their superiors. Other times, they steal from you and have to be banished. Trust me, I’ve seen it all.”

  “Even so. The issue should have been dealt with much earlier.”

  Helena smiled. “Like I said, your household is still new. They will learn.”

  My thoughts were interrupted by another knock—rapid, this time—at the door. Was the new hearth maid here already? Before I could tell the caller to come in, a messenger rushed in, different from the one I’d already dismissed. His face was flushed, his breathing heavy as he gave me an unsteady bow.

  I paled. “Do you have a message from the queen?”

  “No, Your Majesty,” he said through gasping breaths. “Urgent message from the scouts in Risa. They’ve gathered information about Syrus.”

  I took the letter from his sweating hands and pulled it open. My throat went dry as I read the words.

  “What is it?” Helena asked.

  My hands began to shake furiously, my knees growing weak. Be strong, I reminded myself. You are king. I closed my eyes and loosed a quivering breath. “The King of Syrus is in Norun. They have allied and are preparing for war.”

  20

  CHOOSE

  Mareleau

  I thought I would vomit before the swirling colors ceased. To my relief, the strange tunnel ended, and the colors spread out around us, revealing a clear, blue sky above, a plush green lawn below, and an immense, opalescent palace before us. Swaying on my feet as our companions paused, I stared up at the heights of the climbing, gold-tipped turrets. I never thought I’d see any palace more beautiful than Verlot, but compared with the Elvan palace, Verlot seemed like a peasant’s shack.

  The silver-haired Elvan named Fanon spoke to Ailan with a terse tone in his language, eyes darting to me and Cora. Ailan responded, and after a reluctant nod from Fanon, our retinue continued toward the palace.

  “Ailan has ordered us time to bathe and rest before meeting with the tribunal,” Cora whispered.

  I resisted the urge to grind my teeth. How was it fair that she could understand them when I could not? Probably because she’s a sweet, little empath while I’m an evil narcuss. I closed my eyes, feeling my heart sink at the harshness of my own thoughts. I remembered what Salinda had told me and even avoided chastising myself for my slip-up. Love myself. Love myself.

  I decided to choose a more productive route. “How do you understand them? Is it something that can be taught?”

  Cora tilted her head as she considered. “You have access to the Arts, so it’s possible.”

  “What can I do to try?”

  “Well, start by focusing on their tone when they speak,” she said. “You know how you told me you were able to see what your suitors expected you to be? Start there. Try to feel into what the Elvan speaker expects to get across to the listener. From there, try to release more and more control over what you hear, and instead focus on what you feel. Let the words shape themselves within you. Allow a word in our language to express it to you.”

  I nodded, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what she seemed to do so naturally, and instead shifted my focus to the conversation happening between Ailan and the black-haired Elvan. Their words were hushed, but I focused on the tone, loosening my grip on my expectations as I focused on the intentions behind their words. Nothing became clear, but I got the impression Ailan was giving some sort of order to the Elvan man.

  “What is she saying to him?” I asked.

  Cora hesitated for a moment, eyes unfocused as she listened. “She is telling Etrix what accommodations she expects for us. Now she’s telling him when to gather the tribunal and what to tell them.”

  “So she’s giving him orders.” I pressed my lips together to hide my smirk of satisfaction. While I hadn’t gathered nearly as much insight as Cora had, it was a good start.

  The closer we got to the palace, the more of the intricate details I could see—white walls draped with gilded vines of ivy and rose, elegant statues that towered overhead, and an overall sense that everything shimmered like the sun over the sea. “This place is beautiful.”

  Cora pulled her arms tight around her, hugging herself as her shoulders hunched. “Yes. Beautiful.”

  Her empty eyes expressed the opposite of the awe I felt, and I remembered what she’d said about her time in El’Ara. She’d been a prisoner. She’d been…sentenced to death.

  My eyes flickered to Ailan, then to Fanon, who continued to keep a fair distance ahead of us. I didn’t need the Arts to tell me how he felt about me. His icy glare told me enough. The other two Elvan had barely looked my way, but I imagined they felt the same. If these three were cold to me, how would the tribunal respond? Not just to me, but to…Liam.

  I pulled Liam closer to my chest and kissed his cheek, feeling as if we were no longer entering the walls of a majestic palace but the mouth of a beast.

  * * *

  Cora

  I kept my face passive as Etrix opened the door to a familiar room. The room looked exactly as I’d seen it last—narrow, plush cot near an open balcony strewn with hay, elegant tapestries lining the white walls. I turned to face Etrix, who lingered in the doorway, and raised an eyebrow.

  “Fanon told me to bring you here.” Etrix
’s neutral expression remained unchanged, but there was a hint of apology in his tone.

  I let out a bitter laugh and stepped further into the room, followed by Valorre. Valorre paused by the balcony, then, with a lowered head, strode outside. Anger flooded my veins. “He isn’t a horse, you know.”

  Etrix hesitated for a moment. “He has been living in the human world for a long time.”

  “Even there, he was never stabled,” I said. “You allowed our horses to remain outside, where he belongs. He should be free in the forests. Or are we prisoners again?”

  “You shouldn’t have come back. It isn’t safe for you. I tried to help you once—”

  “You tried to have me kill myself.” As soon as the words were out, I regretted their bitter edge. Etrix had never acted out of cruelty toward me. He simply didn’t see things the way I did. None of the Elvan did, yet he and Garot had shown me the closest thing to kindness out of any of them. Still, I found it hard to summon my gratitude.

  Fortunately, Etrix didn’t seem to expect any. “Your friend and her child have been given comfortable accommodations.”

  I nodded, wondering where in the palace Garot had been instructed to send them. Perhaps Ailan’s blood and heir would be shown more respect than a former criminal. I sat at the edge of the cot, shoulders hunched with fatigue. I’d known it would be hard to come back here, but it didn’t make it any easier. Especially being in this room. How much worse will it be meeting with the tribunal?

  I looked back at the doorway, surprised to see Etrix still standing there. “I’m not going to disappear this time,” I said with a sigh. “If there had been a better way, I wouldn’t even be here.”

  “You found Morkara Ailan.” Etrix’s voice came out flat, but it almost seemed like a question. He studied me with his onyx eyes.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “She brought you here.”

  I nodded. “She wanted me to be her ambassador between my world and El’Ara.”

  “Why?”

  I tilted my head. “Why did she make me her ambassador?”

  Etrix’s face flickered with a hint of confusion. “Why does she need one?”

  I considered his question for a moment. “I think it’s because our worlds are going to find it necessary to work together in the coming days.”

  “Why?” For the first time, I heard fear in his voice, reverberating through that single word.

  I opened my mouth to speak but thought better of it. “You should hear it from your Morkara, not me.”

  Etrix touched his hand to his forehead, then dropped it to his side, regaining his composure. “Is that why we are meeting with the tribunal?”

  “I imagine so.”

  He let out a sigh and turned to leave. Before he was out of sight, he paused. “Thank you for finding her. For bringing her home. Fanon should be the one to thank you, but I know he won’t.”

  If only you knew I didn’t find her purely for the sake of El’Ara, I thought to myself. However, that truth wouldn’t help my cause. “You’re welcome.”

  * * *

  I awoke to a knock at the door and sat up on the cot with a start. The windows and balcony showed the indigo sky of night with starlight that illuminated the room nearly as bright as if it were still day. “Come in,” I said as I stood, straightening the violet, robe-like gown I wore. After Etrix had left, I’d been given a bath and a change of clothes. My dress wasn’t nearly as regal as the ones I’d seen the other Elvan wearing, but it was still elegant. More importantly, it was clean, comfortable, and perfectly suited to the summer-like air of the palace.

  The door opened to reveal a smiling Garot. “Ambassador, it is time to meet with the Morkara and the tribunal.”

  I moved toward the door, then stopped to look at Valorre, still lying on the balcony. “Is Valorre to stay?” Part of me hoped he wouldn’t be forced to face the tribunal again, but another part of me longed to bring him anywhere, so long as he was able to stretch his legs.

  “Actually,” Garot said, “I am to see he goes outside.”

  “You’re letting him go free?”

  “Orders of the Morkara.” Garot leaned forward, a conspiratorial smirk on his face as he lowered his voice. “She was not pleased when word got around where Fanon had put the two of you.”

  I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Come, unicorn,” Garot said.

  It’s all right, I told him. I think it’s safe. While I couldn’t say I trusted any of the Elvan, I had the feeling Garot was being truthful.

  Valorre stood and came to me, nuzzling my shoulder. I could sense his relief to return to the outdoors.

  “Wait right here for a moment, Ambassador,” Garot said. He held out a hand, and a swirling tunnel of light emerged where the hallway had been. The Elvan walked into it, waving a hand for Valorre to follow.

  I will wait nearby with my friends, Valorre said. I smiled, realizing he’d referred to Hara and Ailan’s horse as his friends. Before I could say anything in reply, he followed Garot into the tunnel.

  It wasn’t long before Garot returned alone. My heart sank, feeling Valorre’s distance. But at least I could still feel him. He was close. He was safe.

  “Shall we continue to the tribunal, Ambassador?” Garot asked.

  I let out a sigh, wondering if it really were necessary for me to attend. Shouldn’t Ailan address her people on her own before bringing a criminal in their midst? “If we must.”

  * * *

  Silence.

  All I could hear was my racing heart as the tribunal processed all Ailan had said. She remained on the floor—in the exact place I’d once been condemned to death—while Mareleau and I sat at the front row, facing her, with rows and rows of the tribunal spanning behind us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fanon clench and unclench his fists on his armrest a few seats down.

  My heart continued to pound.

  I knew they wouldn’t react as harshly to Ailan as they had to me, but I couldn’t shake the memories of the last time I’d been in that room. It didn’t help that the tension felt the same as it had that day—which spoke louder than any Elvan word could.

  Or so I thought.

  The silence in the room turned out to be the calm before the storm. It began with one voice shouting a question, followed by another. Before long, a wave of voices called out, echoing through the room, then clashing with others. Questions became arguments, and arguments became a thrashing tempest.

  “They’re angry. Confused,” Mareleau whispered as she leaned toward me. She’d been testing her attempts at interpreting the Elvan language throughout Ailan’s speech, although to me her interpretations seemed more like obvious guesses. This one was no exception.

  I rubbed my temples, pushing away thoughts that were not my own—ones that bore down upon my mind, adding to the pressure of the rising volume of voices. I could no longer understand the words that were being thrown throughout the room. Breathe in. Breathe out.

  Mareleau inched closer to me as a few of the Elvan stood to make their shouts heard over the rest. “Why are they upset?”

  Fanon stood and shouted back at some of the others. I closed my eyes, ignoring Mareleau, ignoring the voices, focusing only on my breath.

  A clear yet powerful voice rang out, and the shouting began to subside. I opened my eyes and saw fury in Ailan’s expression as she stepped forward and repeated what she’d said. The standing Elvan returned to their seats. I breathed away the cacophony of thoughts and let my focus settle on Ailan.

  “I am your Morkara,” she said with undeniable authority, her tone sending a chill down my spine. “You have forgotten your place since I’ve been gone. Everything I’ve done has been for the good of our world, and my word is final. You may have your say, you may guide my hand, but you will do it with respect if you want mine in turn. Do we all agree in the ultimate power of our weavings, whatever our talent?”

  The tribunal mumbled their agreement.

  “Do we agree that the
whispers of our weavings are the ultimate truth?”

  Again, the Elvan agreed.

  “Then speak not another word against the whispers of mine.”

  The silence returned.

  “Darius will come for us,” Ailan said, “and I care not whom you blame for that. We must partner with the humans, and I care not how much you’d prefer we sacrifice their world for ours. My heir is of the human world, and I care not how much that disgusts you. He is of my blood. I have named him. His place is not up for discussion. It is final.”

  Fanon stood and bowed his head to Ailan, eliciting quiet gasps. Then he faced the tribunal and spoke with a sense of authority almost equal to Ailan’s. “Let us discuss one thing at a time, one voice at a time, with patience and decorum.”

  “He’s showing his respect to Ailan,” Mareleau whispered as Fanon returned to his seat.

  I ground my teeth. Another obvious interpretation.

  She leaned in closer. “The tribunal can no longer rally behind him, right?”

  My eyes widened at her surprising insight, and suddenly the storm of shouting that had erupted made sense. I felt the shift in the room’s energy and knew Mareleau was right. Half the tribunal didn’t want to accept Ailan as Morkara. They didn’t trust her as belonging to them, in the same way many of the Forest People no longer trusted her. Some of the tribunal wanted Fanon to remain steward. He wouldn’t lead them to war. He wouldn’t partner with humans. He wouldn’t allow a criminal to enter El’Ara. But with Fanon’s acquiescence to Ailan, none of them had a choice. She was Morkara.

  Debate continued, but in a much calmer manner than before. War was discussed. Plans for protecting the tear in the veil were made. Mareleau continued to whisper her interpretations, and I was able to respond to them with more patience, now that I no longer felt like the room was closing in on me.

  Conversation eventually shifted from war and safety to Ailan’s heir. The energy in the room grew tense yet again, but the voices of the speakers remained civil.