Tellus

by Tyffany Hackett

  “If you like, I’m sure Camion would be willing to show you his work in the morning. I have no doubt you’ll find him more than up to the task, Sir Wulfric.” I fought to keep my expression smooth, to avoid revealing the bubble of pride swelling in my chest.

  “I would be honored,” Camion said, inclining his head.

  “Sounds wonderful, thank you.” Wulfric slid his gaze back to where I stood. “How do you fare, my dear?”

  Wulfric had last visited after my mother’s murder. Inwardly, I winced at the thought. I tried, in vain, to not give life to those memories. Those images. The grotesque sight of her deathbed was forever burned in my mind. I filled my thoughts with distractions, with learning about the Scepters and their whereabouts.

  If I didn’t, the darkness crept in to shadow my thoughts.

  Concern lined the faces of my companions. My response was too delayed. They knew where my mind had gone when my stare glazed over, like it always seemed to when I was fighting my inner demons. Meryn had tried to concoct a sleeping draught for me once. Blood and slit throats still snuck their way into my nightmares, alongside the dark creatures lurking beneath the forest.

  A chill sent goosebumps spilling across my skin. I cleared my throat. “I’m well enough, Sir Wulfric, thank you. I’m also grateful this meeting is on a much less morose occasion.” I gestured to the doors behind me. “Dinner is prepared, if you wish to join us? I know you must be weary from your travels.”

  Wulfric grinned. “I never pass up a meal, my fair queen.”

  “A man after my own heart.” I laughed, waving at a pair of servants lingering nearby. “I’ll have your bags taken to your room. Would you like to freshen up?”

  “No need, my dear, I’ll only be mussed again in a moment anyway. Thank you. Please”—he nodded his head toward the doors—“lead the way, Your Majesty. I have several things I wish to discuss with you this evening. We might as well feast while we do so.” His gaze darted around the foyer. “Will your sister be joining us?”

  “No,” I answered quickly. “She isn’t feeling well tonight.”

  A lie, but I didn’t want her further involved should all of this go poorly. She needed an unblemished reputation, on the off chance she ended up taking my throne when all was said and done. I had already asked too much of her.

  If Wulfric suspected the falsehood, the Councilman didn’t say, turning for the dining hall instead. I shot a glance at Jyn, who lifted an unconcerned shoulder. Meryn studied Wulfric appraisingly, making decisions about him as we followed. Camion wore a facade of confidence that I almost believed, if not for the apprehension that flitted across his eyes. I winked when he met my stare. The corner of his mouth twitched.

  Chapter 3

  A long table split the center of the Thraisian dining hall, the formal room covered in dark wood and flickering sconces. The dregs of sunset warmed the windows in golds and pinks. An abandoned book cast a slim shadow over a cushioned window seat. Extra chairs stood sentinel around the walls, as per usual. I couldn’t remember the last time they had been used.

  My attention lingered on the far end of the table, my jaw clamping tight. By title, I should sit in the massive chair that loomed there.

  Mother’s chair.

  A reminder of everything I wasn’t.

  Camion nudged my arm, noticing my stare. We had talked about this one evening, about how I needed to change my perspective. I didn’t need to be my mother to be a good ruler, but I could learn from her example. Part of becoming the queen I wanted to be meant making choices on my own; like when to sit, or not sit, in a chair that made me uncomfortable. Without guilt.

  I inhaled slowly, shooting him a missed glance before I created distance between us. I could thank him for the subtle reminder after dinner.

  With only the five of us eating, I had kept the place settings simple in an attempt at loosening the formality of the meal. Wulfric took his indicated place on one side of the table while the rest of us lined ourselves down the opposite. Jyn sat to my right, Meryn to my left, Camion to the far side of Jyn.

  Servants whisked in from the kitchen, bearing platters laden with food. My stomach rumbled violently. Not surprising when I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I filled my plate, the insistent growls intensifying as the sweet scent of honeyed meat wafted around us and permeated the dining hall. Once everyone had settled into their meals, and I had taken the edge off my own hunger, I broke the silence.

  “I hope your trip was uneventful, Sir Wulfric.” He nodded, and I added, “Are you the only Council member arriving this week?”

  Wulfric hesitated long enough to lift a crystal goblet to his mouth before answering. “No. The rest of the Council will be attending your official disciplinary hearing. If they decide your reckless absence is worth punishing, they’ll delegate the severity as well. Assuming my information is correct, they should arrive within a day or two.”

  “They didn’t speak with you directly?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “I came before the rest of the Council of my own volition. I’m almost certain they were only in such haste to begin with because they didn’t know of your whereabouts. Once you were confirmed home, and alive, most of the Council lost interest in pursuing the matter, but—” Wulfric stared at his plate for a long moment, prodding at a lump of potato with his fork. “But not all. Between us, Your Majesty, I think you should be wary of those in the Council who wanted you kept to this castle. Tell me, My Queen, what do you know of the Stave of Thanatos?”

  I swallowed. Jyn bumped me beneath the table with his knee and I composed myself. “A little. Why do you ask?”

  “Your Majesty . . . in this mysterious adventure you went on, were you perhaps seeking the Imber Scepter?” His questions were too direct. I hesitated, unprepared for how to answer. Air caught in my throat, my mouth opening then closing. Wulfric took in my silence with lips pressed into a thin line. “The others are not as informed as I am, my dear. They don’t know the full situation, nor the gravity of what losing one of those Scepters would mean. Every well-informed person in Araenna is aware that they’re being sought. Of those informed, a large number are also involved in the seeking. And so, I’m here before my colleagues, hoping that you trust me enough to explain in full truth what you were doing. Because in truth, my dear, I prefer to stay one step ahead of those whose ambitions reek of power. Some would do anything to control a Titan, even if their means were not honest.”

  He returned to his meal, offering me the privacy to decide. I glanced at the faces around me and waited until each gestured their wary consent. Tilting my glass, I took a long swig of wine before I said, “Yes, Sir. We went into the forest, but someone beat us to the location. I have no idea who has the Scepter now.”

  My voice cracked on the last words, the failure still too fresh. Jyn watched my face and nudged me when my lower lip trembled. Camion stared at a knot in the table’s wooden surface, almost too focused on not looking my direction.

  Meryn was the one to speak, though, drawing Wulfric’s full attention. “Jyn asked Camion and I to attend dinner tonight because we accompanied Her Majesty into the forest. We wanted to be here, should you have any questions or in case any of us forgot a detail that might be useful to you. If you’re sincere, we would welcome the aid. Being trapped in the palace, or Thrais, isn’t ideal to finding the other two Scepters . . . And we don’t want the Stave to be formed again.”

  Wulfric studied Meryn for a moment, then sighed. “The problem isn’t me. There are members of the Council who claim that, for each of your safety, Her Majesty and Jyn should be in permanent lockdown in the palace. With an exception for small excursions into Thrais township. The rest of us don’t agree. Locking you in the palace grounds makes you a stationary target and, thus, easy pickings for whoever murdered your mother. Nahara bless her. When I left, the other members of the Council were arguing that you shouldn’t be needlessly risking your lives on nonexistent Scepters.”

  “The Scepters do exist,”
Jyn murmured. “I didn’t believe her, at first. Natylia brought the information to me long before we left the palace. I fought her, every step of the way. But I saw those catacombs for myself. They weren’t built to guard the dead.”

  “You don’t need to convince me, my friend,” Wulfric said. “I travel in this region far too often to ignore the signs.” He glanced my direction. “You saw no trace of the Scepter?”

  “We have the fake that was left behind,” Jyn muttered bitterly.

  Wulfric’s attention flicked to him. “There’s a replica?”

  “Yes. An exact copy of the original,” I interjected, “assuming the sketches I’ve seen were accurate, anyway, but with no magical properties whatsoever. None that we could discern, anyway.” I paused. “You may have it, if you wish.”

  Wulfric considered. “No. You may need to reveal the fake to the rest of the Council as evidence before their visit is over. They don’t need to know that I’m aware of any of this.”

  I laid my silverware neatly beside my plate and ran the edges of the cloth towel on my lap between my fingertips. His words fell to an uncomfortable silence. That the Council was divided concerned me. Who could I trust, outside my own walls? Or, for that matter, within?

  “We’ll tell you the story. Beginning to end,” I said finally. Jyn tensed beside me. I chose my words carefully when I added, “You can decide what to do with the information we offer.”

  Wulfric nodded in agreement. I began to speak. Nerves held my tone at a near-whisper at first, but my confidence grew as I recalled the story. The others jumped in where they could, supplying their own perspectives or memories, and they quickly caught on to which parts of the story I skipped—my magic, the nightmares that plagued me, our injuries, my relationship with Camion. Omitting facts made me feel dishonest, but we couldn’t give away our upper hand. Not when I was almost certain a betrayal had been the price of my mother’s life.

  Wulfric watched each of us intently as we spoke, his face stoically unresponsive to the small breaks in information. If he suspected anything was left out, he didn’t let on. His focus only broke for an occasional sip of wine, food and drink otherwise forgotten. Once the words began to flow, the story told itself. After we finished, he took in a deep, settling breath.

  “Incredible,” he said slowly. “You have surpassed all of my hopes in your position already, My Lady.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “I know there has been unrest in your kingdom. I will personally ensure the Council takes care of the matter. I’m in awe of your courage, and your fortitude. There will be no further harassment to you or yours.”

  “I thank you,” I said. “But none of those efforts matter if I can’t continue my search.”

  “I know.” Wulfric leaned back, resting his hand on his stomach. “I want to help you. We’ll have to fight, though, as I’ve said. You’ll need to be ready to argue your case. Stand your ground. Your training will be an easy point of defense for them. Have you been continuing your lessons?”

  “I’ve ensured she kept up with her lessons, following the pages her mother had marked,” Jyn said. “Or I’ve tried. I’m not quite as knowledgeable on the subjects as a certain prince who left her high and dry.”

  “I’m well aware of his poor behavior in that regard. Which is, unfortunately, another matter I have to ask about.” Wulfric’s eyes locked onto mine. “Your refusal of Lucian’s proposal was most embarrassing to the kingdom of Wydus. Word spread. The Council has been trying to mitigate the fallout, but I can’t emphasize enough how important that marriage is. To both of your kingdoms, especially now.”

  Flames blazed to life in my stomach, chased their way into my chest. I tamped down the rage and relaxed the clenched line of my jaw. Even two seats away, I could feel the shift in Camion’s demeanor, the subtle tension in the air. The urge to protect him flared alongside my temper, so much so, my voice was unconvincingly calm when I said, “Sir Wulfric, there seems to have been a mistake. Prince Lucian never actually offered a proposal for me to reject.”

  “You must understand the position this leaves Wydus in, nonetheless,” Wulfric contended. “Who else is worthy of a prince that could marry Lucian?”

  “Anyone. Literally anyone,” Jyn snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Wulfric frowned. Jyn went on, “Sir, I mean no disrespect, but he isn’t worthy of my queen. He’s a risk to her health, as well as her position. Not only was he willing to manhandle her to get attention, his temper is out of control. I could not, in good faith, condone that marriage on a personal level. I wouldn’t feel safe leaving her in his care and, as you know, that is my primary concern. And has been, at the request of her late father, for a good many years.”

  Wulfric sighed, rubbing a hand over his cheek. “Of course Lucian left his own aggressions out of his account of the situation. He certainly didn’t seem the villain to any who heard his narrative. Your side will be heard, Your Majesty. Is there truth to his claims that you’ve taken another suitor?”

  “My side of events is simple, Sir Wulfric. I’m not going to marry Lucian. I hold no love for him, and I do have the authority to refuse a marriage based in politics.” I paused, considering my next words. “As to your other question, yes. I’ve set my interests elsewhere. A kinder, more worthy man. One whom, should our relationship progress so far, will hold my kingdom and my people in the highest regard.”

  Camion straightened a bit in his seat, and my chest warmed at the renewed confidence that crept onto his face. Jyn nudged him, grinning, a gesture thankfully missed by Wulfric as he poured another glass of wine.

  “And you?” Wulfric asked, turning to Jyn. “What do you think of this other suitor?”

  “I’ve given my full blessing.” Jyn held Wulfric’s stare until the older man looked away.

  “Well. You’d better hope the poor man can win over the rest of the Council. No, none of us can stop you from marrying whomever you choose. But they can make your life more difficult, if they feel inclined. Lucian’s fit is doing you no favors.”

  “Entitlement doesn’t win him her hand,” Jyn growled.

  “Don’t mistake my meaning. Given this new information, I’m inclined to agree with you, especially since I’ve been the primary victim of said tantrum. I’m beginning to think he’s not ready for his throne. But that isn’t for me to decide. King Drask and Queen Kathryn can contend with him as they see fit.” Wulfric rolled his neck. I winced at the cracks that sounded. “My job is to ensure the future King of Thrais isn’t here for the wrong reasons. And that you, My Queen, are safe within your own walls.”

  “That’s appreciated.” I pulled a roll of bread in half and slathered one side with butter. “I can set up a meeting with my suitor tomorrow afternoon if you like, so you can form an opinion before the rest of the Council arrives. Perhaps, if you find him agreeable, you can help ease the rest of the Council into accepting him?”

  “I will see what I can do. And you”—Wulfric’s attention shifted to Camion—“tomorrow morning after sunrise work for you?”

  “Absolutely, Sir.”

  “Good man.”

  Jyn’s elbow prodded my side the moment Wulfric was distracted by his plate again. He grinned, shaking his head—first with amusement, followed by pride. Having Camion showcase his talent before a formal introduction was an easy way to gain Wulfric’s favor. The man had a keen eye for value, and specialized in arts and handcrafted wares. Part of his own role within the Council was monitoring trades. Camion would impress him, of this I had no doubts.

  The rest of our meal passed more casually. Wulfric told us a few tales of his travels, of the port city of Dalbran and the infestation of rats that had overtaken the wharf not a fortnight ago. I didn’t bother to hide the disgust that shivered through me. Soon after, Wulfric excused himself to his room for the night. We waited in near silence for a few minutes, until we were sure he hadn’t lingered.

  “Well. That was unexpected,” Meryn said.

  Jyn grimaced. “Yes,
but if he’s thinking the rest of the Council isn’t favorable, or even most, we might have a struggle on our hands in a couple of days.”

  “True, but this is a start. One Council member is better than none.” Meryn smirked. “Besides, we can always sneak out again, if we need to.”

  “Yes, but I’m going to bring a new belt if we do.” Camion snickered, tapping his fingers along the small rows of teeth-indents that dotted the belt he wore.

  I rolled my eyes, looking around. “Can we trust Wulfric?” I studied the expressions of the other three. Meryn and Camion seemed calm, as if accepting, but doubt lined Jyn’s face.

  “I don’t know, Princess. Can we really trust anyone outside the four of us?”

  “No, I suppose we can’t.” I couldn’t even give Annalea all the information, not when it meant putting her at risk. We were alone in this. The corner of my lip slipped between my teeth and I chewed without thought. A tug on my shawl drew my attention, past Jyn, to Camion’s eyes which lingered on my face.

  “We’ll figure this out, Tyli. For now, we worry about the Council’s visit.”

  I stared at him for a long moment and tried to make sense of the emotions racing through his eyes.

  Meryn interrupted my scrutiny with a loud yawn. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning?”

  “Of course.”

  As often as I could, I snuck out to help Meryn pore over books about the Titans, the Stave of Thanatos, the Elf Myrdin . . . anything we thought might hold relevance to the whereabouts of the Scepters. Thus far, our searches had been fruitless. We had learned nothing new, and none of our resources pointed to the whereabouts of the Tellus or Ventus Scepters. Books had never failed me, but these days the pages seemed empty. After hours with noses spent buried in words, we were no closer than we had been a fortnight ago. It was beginning to feel like there was no point. We were treading water in the middle of an endless ocean.

  Eventually, we were going to drown.