The Fate of the Tala

by Jeffe Kennedy

  “Besides, we know plenty.” Zyr shifted restlessly as he spoke, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair in an agitated pattern. “We know what we saw. I doubt anything has changed. She’s on n’Andana, inside the barrier, with her living god, macabre zoo, and cadre of junior priests and priestesses, building her ensorcelled army.”

  “But we don’t know why she hasn’t attacked yet,” Karyn reminded him. “We don’t know her plan.”

  “She’s waiting for something,” Kral put in, raising his brows significantly at Ursula.

  I should’ve thought to probe the high priestess about that. But then, it had been a fast conversation and I hadn’t been prepared. I would be next time.

  Ursula’s brows had drawn together in thought. “You think she was waiting to see what happened with Hestar’s treaty offer? I don’t know.” She glanced at me, then at Harlan. “Tell them your theory.”

  He stirred from his habitual still watchfulness. “To call it a theory would be putting it strongly. It occurred to me that Hestar’s offer of alliance may be a sign that he recognizes the need to tear Deyrr from his own throat.”

  Kral made a fist, rapping it on the table, face sharp as his shark namesake. “It’s a possibility. We know he admitted the high priestess to the Imperial Palace, perhaps along with others of the sect—not something our father, the former emperor, would’ve approved of,” he added for the rest of us. “No right-thinking Dasnarian would soil themselves with the likes of Deyrr.”

  Karyn nodded along and Harlan, arms folded, made a sound of agreement.

  “But Hestar,” Kral mused, exchanging a look with Jepp. “He always was slippery, pulling out surprise advantages, winning at any cost. I could see him trying something this unsavory—and our father did die under odd circumstances. It could be that Hestar allied with Deyrr and their foul magics some time ago, even before he became emperor, thinking he could use and control them.”

  Harlan dipped his chin. “If Hestar believes he has been used by Deyrr instead, he could be looking to the Tala for help.”

  “Annfwn would not be inclined to assist a rampaging empire,” Rayfe cut in coldly.

  Harlan gave him a respectful nod. “Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but Hestar wouldn’t perceive that. He’d only see the surface—that Her Majesty is High Queen and appears to govern Annfwn as one small part of her own empire.”

  Zyr snorted in disgust, and Kral eyed him. “You laugh, shapeshifter,” Kral said, “but in Dasnaria, our highest authority is exactly that. Hestar would expect your High Queen to have similar power to his, which is absolute.”

  Karyn nodded in agreement, and Ursula slid me a glance, eyes glittering with humor. I knew she’d like to make a joke about how helpful it would be to have that much power, but she restrained herself. I returned the look, which Rayfe intercepted, a line between his brows, his claws coming to the surface. “And supposing the Tala were ruled in such a way, what would this Hestar want from us?”

  “The Tala are the descendants of n’Andana, ancient enemy of Deyrr,” Harlan explained. “The Temple of Deyrr clearly knows this. We know from Jepp’s spying that the high priestess is friendly with Hestar, so he also has access to this information. We also know that n’Andana contained Deyrr the last time around when they made the deciding move in their long war by taking magic out of circulation and starving Deyrr of it. The high priestess confirmed that to Karyn. In Hestar’s place, who else would you bet on to defeat Deyrr, other than the people who did it before?”

  “That’s why she’s waiting!” Karyn flushed at her outburst. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, Your Highnesses, Consort, General, Lieutenant.”

  “Are you going to list everyone’s titles, or will you eventually tell us what you realized?” Zyr asked curiously.

  She threw him a narrow look. “The high priestess—yes, she complained about that. How n’Andana had starved them of magic and how long she’d gone without it, how good it felt to be inside the barrier and be able to soak in all the magic.”

  “Yes,” I breathed, amazed I hadn’t figured that out myself. “That has to be it. By Karyn’s accounts, the high priestess—and Deyrr, Himself—went centuries without magic. She’s replenishing her reserves, maybe storing it in reservoirs.”

  “Is that possible to do?” Ursula asked, her expression sharp.

  “There are various methods—as many as there are magic practitioners, as wielding sorcery is an individual thing—but yes, most find ways to store and save magic, or static spells, for quick use in an emergency.”

  “Like your sparkly blue magic globes,” Jepp said to Zynda. “I’ve wondered about those, because they do different things at different times, like a dagger you can use with various techniques. It is the weapon, but you guide it.”

  Zynda inclined her head. “That’s my personal trick, yes, one I developed because I’m not a very potent sorceress.” Marskal muttered something to Zynda I couldn’t hear, and she looked amused. “I’m truly not. Nothing like Andi. I can store magic over time to make those sorceries more potent than what I could do on the spur of the moment. Considering what the high priestess accomplished before she was inside the barrier, she would have considerably more sophisticated techniques.” She looked to me. “Potent ones—and probably unlike anything we’ve encountered before.”

  Yes, she and I understood each other. I weighed how to say the next part. “I have her focus stone, the one Zyr and Karyn managed to take from her. I’m certain she wants it back, though the Star is far more powerful and she’d no doubt prefer to steal that.”

  “Where is the Star?” Ursula asked.

  “In the Heart of Annfwn,” I told her, since she needed to know, though Rayfe twitched beside me at the casual discussion of Tala secrets.

  “What and where is this ‘heart’?” Kral asked with a puzzled frown.

  “Secret,” I replied sweetly.

  Ursula was giving Zynda a considering look. “You say you’re not that potent of a sorceress, but your magic was effective enough to wipe out the undead creatures attacking Ordnung on a pretty broad scale, on very short notice.”

  Ah. This was the story I hadn’t heard yet. “Would someone summarize this attack for me?”

  Rayfe shifted irritably beside me. “We’ve heard it, and it’s not that important.”

  “Yes, I realize I’m the only person in the room who hasn’t heard it yet—which is my fault, and I apologize for losing my temper earlier—but I’d like to hear it now.”

  “We haven’t heard it,” Zyr put in, sliding down in his chair and leaning his dark head against Karyn’s shoulder. “Storytime, Cousin,” he prompted Ursula.

  She gave him a reproving frown—which bothered him not at all—but I caught the gleam of affection in her eyes when she turned to me. “It’s not a long one,” she said to me, not addressing Rayfe. He glowered next to me, emanating impatience. Probably he’d rather be pacing. Otherwise, I didn’t know what had him so annoyed. Perhaps our continued disregard for Tala secrets. “It took us a while to figure out, but it seems that the potent magic of midsummer day stirred the ashes of Illyria’s undead creations.”

  “They coalesced—on their own?” I sat forward. Just as I’d dreaded might be possible. How under Moranu’s bright gaze could Rayfe not see this as important?

  “Apparently so,” Ursula replied. “Last fall, after we executed Illyria and liberated Ordnung, we had to… dispatch, then burn all the people she’d made into her creatures. I’m afraid the Hawks and Harlan’s Vervaldr bore the brunt of that unpleasant duty.”

  Marskal, expression grim, nodded. “There were so many—too many for individual funeral services—so we distributed them among multiple pyres, burning them as fast as we could. Those we could identify, we gathered their ashes and gave those to the families that came to collect them. But there were so many who couldn’t be identified, for various reasons.” The normally stoic soldier broke off, face ravaged by grief, and Zynda took his hand, lacing he
r fingers with his. He gripped her hand tightly.

  “The Vervaldr dealt with the unidentified dead,” Harlan took over smoothly, his deep voice neutral. “With so much ash to handle—and the Hawks occupied with the terrible task of disbursing ashes to grieving relatives—my men and I decided against a mass grave. Instead we went with the Dasnarian tradition of scattering ash over the fields.”

  Karyn gave him a smile. “We did that, Consort, back home on the Hardie estates.”

  He nodded to her. “An honorable return of ash to earth.” Then he shook his head at himself. “Stupid and shortsighted of me.”

  “No one could have predicted,” Ursula said to him softly. “Get over it.”

  Flicking her a wry smile, he tipped his fingers to his forehead, saluting her with the Elskathorrl. As always, the potent magic behind the vow rippled through the space between them, that golden ribbon of devotion.

  “So, yes—the ashes coalesced,” Zynda took up the tale. “A good word for it. They appeared to be shadow creatures, composed of ash, but not well-formed, more like distorted echoes of their previous bodies.”

  “And they attacked Ordnung?” I asked.

  Ursula, watching me intently, nodded. “With the typical single-minded focus of the Deyrr creatures.”

  I had to think about this. So many implications to process. “Ordnung, or you?”

  She paused, surprised by that question.

  “I’d say they wanted her,” Harlan put in.

  “Why didn’t you say so before?” she demanded.

  “I don’t know,” he replied easily, but with granite determination beneath. “Maybe I was afraid you’d take it in your head to sacrifice yourself to save Ordnung.”

  Jepp and Marskal bowed their heads to hide their smiles, while Ursula glowered at Harlan. She would do exactly that, too.

  “Clouds of ash,” Rayfe broke in contemptuously. “What harm could they possibly cause?”

  I couldn’t help myself. It was so unlike Rayfe to be so unfeeling, even about problems at Ordnung, that I sent him a thought of astonishment and offense. “Rayfe!”

  He showed no sign he heard me.

  “They suffocated people, King Rayfe,” Jepp answered, dark eyes solemn. “They moved fast, enveloped people and animals, and left them dead.”

  “I was inside one of the clouds,” Harlan added. “It was unlike anything I’ve experienced before. I lost my strength, like it drew the life from me.”

  “Dragon fire didn’t work on them, nor did my nullifying presence,” Zynda said. Marskal nodded along with her. “We tried numerous times.”

  “Yes,” Zynda said in my mind. “I’m thinking about your experience of the magic bouncing off the Deyrr warthog, too.”

  “Also the dead drawing life from the living.” I nodded at her, then said aloud, “So you used another sorcery.”

  “Yes. To answer your question, Cousin,” she said to Ursula, “I had some stored magic with me—what Jepp calls the sparkly blue magic globes—but that’s why I asked for time to prepare. I combined several of those, and also drew on ambient magic in the land. It took a while, and that delay nearly cost us Harlan’s life,” she added.

  “But you executed the spell in time to free Harlan?” I asked.

  “No,” Ursula replied, giving me a long look. She held up her wrist, showing me the cuff she wore, embedded with our mother’s rubies. “I think this did it.”

  Rayfe leaned in, narrowing his eyes at the jewels. “Those are the Queen’s rubies.”

  I rolled my eyes, unable to restrain my irritation with him. “Yes, darling. Queen Salena left them to her daughters. We all have some. You’ve seen mine.”

  He gave me an incredulous—and yes, most annoyed—look. “I have not. When have you worn them?”

  Well, I didn’t ever wear them. Life in Annfwn didn’t lend itself to many formal occasions requiring jewelry. My gaze went to my hand on the arm of my chair, and the bloodred ruby ring I’d worn ever since Rayfe placed in on my finger on our wedding day. It was the only piece of jewelry I habitually wore, but perhaps that should change.

  “You used the cuff?” I asked Ursula, ignoring Rayfe for the moment.

  She scooted her chair back and drew her sword, Rayfe tensing beside me. I gave him a questioning glance—what was up with him?—but he had his suspicious gaze riveted on Ursula. With her agile, easy grace, she reversed the sword, showing me the cabochon ruby embedded in the pommel. “After I prized the Star of Annfwn out of its place, Dafne said it looked bad for me to go around seeming like an impoverished noble who’d sold off the family jewels. I used one of Salena’s rubies here, had a few set in earrings, that kind of thing, then gave you and Ami the rest. Dafne, too.”

  “Dafne has some of the Queen’s rubies?” Rayfe sounded dangerous.

  Ursula regarded him evenly, not seeming to register the snarl. “She was practically Salena’s adopted daughter. Dafne was a little girl, an orphan, her entire extended family dead at Uorsin’s hands. Salena took Dafne under her protection and kept her safe. So, yes, I used my judgment as the one in possession of our mother’s jewelry to distribute it as she would’ve wished.”

  Rayfe opened his mouth and I put a hand on his forearm. He tensed under my touch, nearly flinching, and I sent another mental nudge, transmitting my wordless confusion and displeasure. “Besides,” I said to him. “I am the Queen of the Tala now, so the rubies are mine, regardless. I officially approve of Ursula’s disbursement of them.”

  A brief silence fell, Rayfe palpably fuming.

  “I think that’s enough,” I declared, not willing to push his temper further. “I’d like to have everyone together before we discuss the rest of our strategy. There are only a few remaining details to take care of: first, I already sent a message to Ami a few days ago, asking her to come to Annfwn, and bring Ash and the twins. But since recent events have accelerated the timeline, it will take too long for them to travel overland—and that’s not counting however long Ami might dawdle about leaving in the first place.”

  “I can go get them,” Zynda volunteered, glancing at Marskal who nodded in agreement.

  “Would it be possible for Zynda to take Jepp and Kral to the Hákyrling, so our reply to Emperor Hestar can be delivered?” Ursula asked me.

  I gazed back at her, aware of the many levels of her question—and why she asked me, in particular. “Are you ready to do that?”

  “Is there any benefit to waiting?” she countered.

  I didn’t have to check the futures. They’d already changed. “The marriage is sealed, and the effects already moving outward. Delaying your missive will only change when Hestar knows of your decision.”

  Ursula and Harlan exchanged a long look, then she tipped her head at me. “Timing like that can be a key strategy point.”

  True. “Give me a moment of silence please.”

  “Andromeda, you shouldn’t—”

  I held up a hand to quiet Rayfe’s protest. “It’s important.” I turned my gaze to the future threads, letting the rush of familiar horrors flow past unheeded, focusing on Hestar. Once I found him at a key future point, I traced backward, the timelines consolidating into fewer, thicker rivers of probability. Until I reached a decision point in the near future. Then glimpsed a scene that might be present or near past. “Hmm.”

  “What?” Ursula demanded.

  Better to tell her fast. “It seems he already knows.”

  ~ 7 ~

  Everyone, including Rayfe, tried to say something at once. I kept my face smooth, not revealing how the hubbub made my head—already aching from effort of sorting the futures that fast—throb even more.

  “Order!” Ursula’s voice cracked across the table, carrying the weight of the high throne, and instilling instant obedience. Nearly a sorcerous ability right there, and a skill she rarely employed, especially when she wasn’t actually sitting on her throne. For all that Uorsin had been an utter bastard, he had known a few things about power and leading people
—and he’d taught his eldest daughter well.

  Satisfied, Ursula looked to me. “Are you able to explain further?”

  I smiled at her ruefully, grateful for the phrasing. “Only that I glimpsed a scene of the present or near past. A Dasnarian man in silver armor, mirror bright, inset with clear jewels. He wore a helm like Kral’s, but with crown-like spires, also heavily jeweled.”

  Kral nodded. “Hestar. But how can you not know if it’s present, past, or future?”

  “It’s not as if the visions come with convenient notations like Dafne’s calendar dates. I have to extrapolate from adjacent events that I know have occurred or are occurring.” When Kral frowned but asked nothing more, I continued. “He was angry, raging about Harlan.” I glanced at him apologetically. “He called you by any number of unpleasant epithets, which I won’t repeat.”

  He lifted a shoulder and let it fall, dipping his chin philosophically. “It has been many years since my eldest brother has had the power to harm me—by word or deed.” He covered Ursula’s hand with his. “I am sorry, though.”

  “I’m not,” she replied crisply. “If we make false vows to gain advantage in war, then we’re no better than the ones who wage it.”

  Kral laughed, a harsh, contemptuous sound. “The Dasnarian Empire has crushed many a virtuous kingdom who sought to stick to their ideals. Will you feel the same, I wonder, when you lose?”

  Ursula opened her mouth, but to everyone’s surprise, Karyn spoke up. “I used to think the same, General Kral, that strength, winning at any cost, was always preferable to the alternative. Now I understand it’s possible to reign over every mind and body in sight and still be hollow inside, and it’s equally possible to resign oneself to losing and still be full of the richness of love.”

  He snorted at her, but gently. “True enough. But it’s good to test the resolve of our partners in this futile war.” He winked at her, and Jepp rolled her expressive dark eyes, twirling one of her small daggers as if she longed to plant it in some enemy—or possibly in Kral, wherever it would smart the most.