by Mira Zamin
***
With a curious Niara at my shoulder, I rode out, dressed in a blue wool gown and a shining steel breastplate, to meet the other generals on the field. They had assembled the army as I had requested. I could discern more than a few quizzical faces. I saw Corrine, Kershid, Liem, but I could not pick out Ferdas’s face from the neatly regimented lines. Had he betrayed me as well? The thought was like a knife to the stomach.
Coming up beside Kharset, I smiled hesitantly, my hand going to my neck nervously. “Prepare yourself,” I murmured to him. I ran my finger deliberately over the warm metal of the pendant until it grew hot against my clavicle. I shut my eyes and when they opened again, I saw the brightly shining ambassador. Behind him, I vaguely registered a series of slack mouths. Their surprise made me want to giggle.
“So soon again, your Majesty?” the djinn inquired courteously, dark skin sparkling as it had in the desert.
“How are you, friend?” I questioned, equally courteous, rather enjoying the awe rippling through the army around me. While djinn were not entirely uncommon at state functions, to witness one being summoned by the queen was no doubt a sight to behold.
“Well, and yourself?” he drawled.
“Quite well, thank you. I would ask a favor of you, sir.”
He bowed, the golden embroidery of his black coat blinking. “Your wish is my command.”
Gesturing towards the army, I explained, “Transfer us from here to the opening of the Ghazar pass and to the according tops of the Lariya, just as we are positioned before you here.”
He smiled and the world went black.
Chapter Thirty