by Frank Morin
The gloves weren’t even subtle. She’d never seen Queen Dreokt wear gloves. The ones she now wore reached up to her elbows, but were made of white leather rather than the more fashionable satin. Why did she need them? Her torso under the dress seemed blockier too, as if she was still wearing that suit of earth. More telling, her hands occasionally shook where she gripped the arms of the throne, little tremors racked her torso, and her legs twitched every minute or so. She didn’t seem to realize she was doing it as she stared unseeing toward the waterfall.
Ailsa’s practiced eye could spot the tiniest variations in shape, so the queen’s distress screamed at her. More interesting, she had noticed subtle changes to the queen’s body in conjunction with those tremors. It was almost as if the queen was slowly rebuilding herself from the neck downward and removing the earthen shell as the work progressed. Her shoulders and chest seemed normal, and her waist looked far more refined than even a few moments ago. Ailsa yearned to know what had transpired. Had Connor hurt her, or had she indeed turned elfonnel and suffered exceptional trauma returning to human form? Maybe an issue caused by her previous long sleep in elfonnel form?
Ailsa dared allow a flicker of those questions to touch her surface thoughts. It would seem odd if the queen picked up nothing about her present state. She knew Ailsa would wonder. The two of them were alone in the throne room other than a few of the silent, mind-wiped servants. The queen had summoned Ailsa before anyone else, despite repeated frantic messages from General Aonghus that he needed to speak with her immediately.
She began to speak softly, but Ailsa didn’t understand the words. She understood enough of the various languages of the Arishat League that she caught hints of Althin, Sehrazad, and Varvakin mixed in among the babble, but most of the words were in a language completely unfamiliar to her. She leaned closer, concentrating, wishing she had a way to record the jumble for later deciphering. The queen didn’t seem to realize she was speaking, and Ailsa bet there were secrets embedded in the cryptic monologue she needed to know.
After another tremor that shook the queen more than most, she blinked and switched to Obrioner, but her gaze remained distant and unfocused. With a jolt of surprise, Ailsa realized the queen’s voice was full of fear. She whispered, “Triath, all is folly. I don’t think I can withstand them much longer, but how do I restore the final bridge? The one secret we never explored is the one that might destroy us all.”
Ailsa took a step closer, silently urging the queen to say more. She allowed her surface thoughts to reflect concern and curiosity. Unfortunately, either those thoughts or her movement caught the queen’s attention. She blinked, her gaze fixing on Ailsa, and she scowled.
“Don’t pry into secrets you can’t hope to understand! Do you hear me? Prying into the unknown is what destroyed my family!”
“I won’t. I promise,” Ailsa assured her, unnerved by the wild intensity in the queen’s eyes. She didn’t look entirely herself, and it was hard enough to weather the unpredictable storm of the queen’s fast-flipping moods on good days. She infused her surface thoughts with worry for her liege.
“I’ll be all right, Ailsa,” Queen Dreokt said with a deep sigh and a benevolent smile. “I just need time to set things right.”
“I have no doubt. We witnessed your fiery elfonnel even from here.”
“It wasn’t mine!” she shrieked, flipping into a rage. “Curse Kubatana and his madness. I’m the one who’s suffered most from it, but I fear not even I can save my people from the ultimate ramifications of his failures.”
“Kubatana?” Ailsa dared ask. She had an excellent memory for names, but had never heard that one. It sounded foreign.
The queen lurched in her seat, grimacing in obvious pain, worse than Ailsa had ever seen. She gazed up at the waterfall again and switched back to that strange language Ailsa didn’t understand. Ailsa wanted to slap her and shout at her to speak Obrioner, but that would get her killed.
So she only asked, “Pardon?”
Queen Dreokt didn’t acknowledge her, but luckily did switch to Obrioner, her voice soft and angry. “Are you sure they can’t rise through these filters?”
The queen cocked her head, as if listening to someone. Maybe she was reliving an old conversation? After a moment, she spoke again. “The high committee on the advanced methodologies for safe pursuit of sylfaen research techniques has ruled conclusively that any access into their domain is strictly forbidden. We must produce irrefutable proof of safety protocols or they’ll shut us down with severe prejudice.”
Another pause.
“No, we can’t stop now. Affinities are safe. How much more proof do they need? . . . I won’t let those administrative cowards stop us. We’ve made too many advancements. We’ll stand up to them if we must. With Harley and Tristan and their teams, we’ll show them.”
A longer pause, another lurching tremor, and her expression turned wild. Ailsa watched, fascinated as the queen suffered through some kind of delirium. What had Connor done to her? In her most secret thoughts, she allowed herself to whisper, “And why couldn’t you have done just a little more?”
“We have to run. Even if we defeat them, they’ve turned everyone against us . . . I know we dug too deep, but that should prove our power . . . Too many dead . . . I have the map! I believe the lands are real, beyond the western sea. It’s outside of their reach. We can start over, finish our work, and prove them wrong. We can harness our affinities there with none of the prejudice from Kubatana’s folly.”
Her rambling words trailed into indistinct whispers, even though Ailsa dared lean closer to listen. She kept her surface thoughts filled with concern for her queen’s health, and unshakable confidence in her ability to recover from the injuries sustained by the revolutionaries.
In her deepest thoughts, she tried to memorize the words and keep her enthusiasm in check. If she was hearing it right, it sounded like the queen was reliving the events that led to her flight to Obrion from her original homeland. The clues tied in with other bits and pieces the queen had shared about the research she and her husband had pioneered in creating the first affinities and filtering the sylfaen, but added insights into the opposition they had faced. Something about Kubatana had affected their work, but what?
She allowed her surface thoughts to wonder about that. It was a risk, but she felt she had to take it.
Queen Dreokt snapped out of her reverie and rubbed her face with one gloved hand. Her eyes were bloodshot for a second before the redness drained away. She regarded Ailsa with a calculating gaze, and Ailsa forced herself to remain standing calmly, surface thoughts dwelling on relief that the queen seemed to be feeling better, and gratitude that she’d decided to share more of her past.
She hadn’t decided to share anything, but hopefully the thought that Ailsa interpreted the delirium that way would ease her mood.
“You’re the only advisor I trust to hear these things,” Queen Dreokt said finally.
Ailsa curtsied, her surface thoughts thrilled at the praise. She ventured to ask, “May I inquire as to how Kubatana’s work impacted your own marvelous research?”
“He failed, that’s how!” Queen Dreokt snapped. “He delved into the power of elements two centuries before I was born. He was a genius, but he pushed the boundaries and destroyed himself and all his research in the worst sylfaen lab disaster in recorded history.” She slumped back in her seat, looking dejected. “His mistake somehow gave the elementals life. They wreaked terrible damage to our country before the breach was repaired.”
“I don’t understand,” Ailsa said. “You speak of the elements as if they are self-aware.”
“They are. Somehow they found consciousness through Kubatana’s folly. They have manifested enough times over the centuries that researchers recognized they still lived, still sought to meddle in the world of men.”
Ailsa frowned. Some pieces of the queen’s ranting began to make sense, but she still felt like she was missing something important. “
So when you established tertiary affinities . . .”
The queen nodded, looking exhausted, rubbing at her face. “We tapped into the power of the elements, but since that power was filtered through stones, it limited their ability to influence us. I felt convinced we had finally cracked the problem to not only safely filter the sylfaen, but also to access elemental powers. Our research should have changed the world.”
“Then I don’t understand why you faced such opposition.”
“Because the research oversight council was run by cowards!” the queen shouted. “We proved the safety of our affinities, but they rejected our research and ordered it destroyed.” Her voice turned cold, her gaze icy. “We refused.”
“You had to fight them,” Ailsa guessed.
“We thought a skirmish or two would prove the value of our work, but it only enraged them. Then there was the unfortunate incident with sinking that island, but we didn’t yet know we could draw too deep. That unfortunate event helped establish necessary boundaries.”
Her comments after Harley and Evander had wrecked the Carraig and destabilized Mt Murdo finally made sense. The pieces were falling into place, but Ailsa still didn’t understand her fear. “It sounds like there remains some danger.”
Queen Dreokt hesitated, then declared, “Yes, Ailsa. I’m afraid there is great danger. We pushed through too many thresholds, and my dear Kirstin delved too deep into the unknown of the Builder powers. We stepped into shadows better left alone, and that folly cost me both Triath and Kirstin.”
“I never knew,” Ailsa said softly. “I had heard only that your husband suffered some kind of breakdown.”
“Kirstin triggered it somehow. I still don’t understand what she did, but it shattered his defenses. He lost himself within earth and could not return. I had to destroy him to save our world.” A tear glittered in her eye before it evaporated with a little puff of steam.
A shiver of dread chilled Ailsa. She kept her surface thoughts fixed on sorrow for the loss of the great king, but deep inside, her mind was racing. They had hunted the queen’s weakness, but it sounded like not even she knew what it was, other than something Builders could do. Was it tied to the Builder threshold? Connor worked so closely with the Builders, could they blunder right into the same problem that had destroyed the old king, and Kirstin? Her friends were desperately hunting the very secrets that might destroy them. The truth left her feeling numb.
All along, Queen Dreokt had been right to try to stop them.
“Of course I’m right!” the queen snapped.
Ailsa cringed. She hadn’t realized she’d let that last thought filter to her surface persona, and she made sure to strengthen the separation between them. The queen didn’t look angry, and she sensed no additional aggressive invasion of her mind. Her palms suddenly felt sweaty and she fought to suppress her fear. She’d nearly given herself away in the very moment she learned critical truths.
She managed to say, “Indeed, you are wise to recognize danger and protect your kingdom.”
Queen Dreokt leaned forward, her eyes filling with crashing waves. “Speak nothing of this to anyone else. Our world hangs by a thread. My wicked son and grandson have corrupted the one promising child I hoped to raise to greatness. They not only refuse to understand the dangers, but hunt the very thing that will destroy them.”
“Surely you can overcome any false teaching they’ve indoctrinated him with.” Ailsa filled her surface persona with trust in her liege, but deep inside, she struggled to come to grips with the startling truth. Everything was flipped upside down. Queen Dreokt really was protecting them from an even greater danger.
“I was confident I could until our last encounter, but now it appears I’ll have to destroy him. I can construct worthy servants out of most people, but great ones like Connor, and like my own idiotic children cannot. The transition sunders their affinities and would make them all but useless. I’m afraid all of them must die.”
“May I inquire as to what changed your mind?” Ailsa dared ask.
Queen Dreokt sagged back in her throne, sighed, and rubbed her temples. “The wicked child led me into a trap. A trap! Can you believe they would dare such an affront to my honor?”
“He has always been unruly.”
“Unruly yes, but now they meddle in the very ramverk. They threaten to undermine the foundation of everything I’ve built on this continent. They have no concept of the destruction they might unleash.”
It looked like together they’d unleashed plenty of destruction. The sight of the great, fiery elfonnel took on an even more ominous meaning. Other elfonnel had risen in the past and caused terrible damage, but Ailsa suspected that when Queen Dreokt or Connor raised one, the dangers were far greater. She needed to know the specifics of those dangers, but sensed she couldn’t push the queen to reveal more so soon.
Luckily, it appeared they’d contained the eruption remarkably well. From her tower window, it had appeared the disaster could have easily covered the few miles to Crann and buried the city in ash, but the billowing cloud had been contained, then swept out of the air altogether. The mountains had remained remarkably condensed, rising high but far narrower than natural.
Even stranger than the rapid subsiding of the trembling were the reports from a Sentry she knew that the earth appeared to have stabilized under Mount Murdo and along the borders. Although he couldn’t walk the earth that far, he’d assured her that he could feel those unstable lands like distant thunder over the horizon. Now that thunder was gone. That suggested an equally unprecedented mastery of earth powers. Had someone raised an earth elfonnel too? Were the queen’s fears exaggerated?
“Surely you punished them for their treachery,” Ailsa said.
“I will. By my husband’s blessed memory, I will. But the Builders revealed yet another vile trick and struck at the integrity of my affinities.” She scowled and slammed her hand down on the arm of her throne, shattering it. “I will have order. This insurrection, this reckless abandonment of reason must stop.”
She leaned back in her throne, suddenly appearing spent, as if her tantrum had exhausted her strength. She placed a weary hand over her eyes.
“Your generals and staff are eager to meet with you. Shall I send them away until later?” Ailsa offered.
“No. I must meet with them, but in a moment.” The queen dropped her hand and sighed, looking old, her eyes filled with sorrow. “The burdens I carry feel overwhelming today. You are my only true friend, Ailsa, and if I don’t confide my deepest fears to someone, I fear I won’t have the strength to do what must be done.”
Ailsa curtsied, her surface thoughts overjoyed that the queen trusted her so much, mingled with a somber realization of the great trust being placed upon her. In her deepest thoughts, she exulted. Finally, she might learn the vital pieces that might make sense of everything.
“I am entirely at your disposal,” she said with perfect honesty.
6
A Gift with a Catch
Nicklaus concentrated on a small piece of soapstone held in his hand as he floated in the middle of his research room, surrounded by three hundred gallons of clear water. It was hard to balance everything he was doing, and he had to concentrate so hard he was showing his teeth again.
Governess Christin didn’t like him showing his teeth. She said he looked like he was snarling, and high nobles weren’t ever supposed to snarl, but that seemed silly. Verena bit her lip sometimes when she concentrated really hard, and Hamish liked to make himself throw up testing Althin chemicals. No one complained about their habits. He hadn’t even bitten anyone in days, and that cook shouldn’t have surprised him when he snuck into the locked kitchen pantry using blind coal.
To help him focus, Nicklaus slowly somersaulted in place, head over heel, over and over again. Hamish always said he needed to train his stomach not to reach the stomach lurch point too soon if he wanted to become a great flier, and Nicklaus loved flying. So he practiced all the time.
> It was easy to spin in the middle of that big globe of water that he’d created using pieces of soapstone placed around the room and linked into a higher-level mechanical. That part was easy, as was keeping himself dry in there and breathing with a tiny piece of quartzite. The tricky part was creating a boat out of water.
Verena had told him about the Underwater Slide they’d used to escape Obrion, and she’d promised to get Connor to make one for him, but then they all left for the war. It was really boring in New Schwinkendorf without all the soldiers. Christin tried to cheer him up by scheduling tests every day for him to help shoot at researchers, but they screamed a lot more than the soldiers did, even when he didn’t hardly hit them at all, and she never let him take any weapons home. He was down to four diorite bombs hidden in one sock, and that half a missile he was sneaking back to his bedroom one piece at a time.
If he could make a Slide for himself, he could sneak away to the river and have an adventure. That would be better than flying because there were too many scouts watching the air, and they spotted him every single time he flew his couch-cushion Swift out the window. Almost all the Water Moccasins were at the war, so he bet he could escape all day. That would be so much fun, especially if he could sneak that speedsling from storage that he’d discovered the day before.
As Nicklaus concentrated on the piece of soapstone, he was very careful to apply each step in the command sequence he’d planned. Water had taught him about creating layered commands, and he was getting really good at it, but sometimes he missed steps. He’d already tried using just one command, ordering the soapstone to make a boat, but that didn’t work.