The Fate of the Tala

by Jeffe Kennedy

  “You already moved out of my bed,” I replied bitterly, on the verge of tears again.

  “Because you asked me to.”

  “No.” My voice shuddered with emotion. “Don’t put that on me. I offered you an out and you took it, with unseemly haste, I might add.”

  He raked a hand through his hair and sighed, frustration and exhaustion in it. He’d had a long day, too, flying all the way back from wherever they’d been, then dealing with me, our guests, and all the hundreds of decisions we both made every day.

  “It’s late,” he said. “And we’re getting nowhere with this argument. You may not believe me, but I really do have things to see to before I can sleep tonight.”

  “Of course I believe you,” I replied wearily. “There’s so much to do. Can I help with anything?”

  “No. I did manage to govern Annfwn for years before you came along.”

  I stared at him, shocked and bewildered. He shook his head at himself, the wolf shedding water and rage from its fur. “I apologize,” he said. “That was uncalled for. I’m angry and need some time. And you need food and rest. We can talk in the morning.”

  “Rayfe,” I called, as he strode out of the room. My voice wasn’t strong, but he heard me, pausing and then turning. “What’s happening to us?” I asked, sounding plaintive and pitiful.

  His stern expression softened, barely, but there. “It’s just an argument, Andromeda. People disagree. Eat. Sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” With that he left.

  Alone but for my staymach guard, songbirds perched around the room on their quiet roosts, I put my head down on my folded arms, and sobbed.

  ~ 8 ~

  I woke in the morning from a long, deep sleep, surprisingly refreshed and filled with a sense of well-being. Sleepily, I reached for Rayfe… His side of the bed was cold and empty. Memory flooded back, and that brief moment of peacefulness shattered under the deluge of emotion. My eyes prickled with tears, the sting reminding me of how swollen they already were from the previous evening’s torrent of angry grief.

  Enough of that. I’d shed tears enough to last a lifetime and my mountain of problems remained just as high.

  Turning onto my back, I gazed up at the mosaic ceiling over the bed, the colors bright even in the dawn shadows. Tropical fish of many varieties swirled in clear aqua currents, exactly the shades of the sea on the journey to the Heart of Annfwn. Some ancient artisan’s magic had infused the tiles with the illusion of motion. I’d lain here often in Rayfe’s arms, gazing at the scene, noticing new elements every time.

  Without his reassuring presence, I felt more than ever like an echo of my mother. I could picture her, as vividly as in a vision, lying in this bed, staring at this same ceiling in loneliness and despair, seeking a way out of the coiling maze of future doom. How could it be that, more than three decades later, we’d come no closer to finding a way out of that maze? Indeed, we’d only gotten lost deeper in the bowels of it.

  I thrust that image away, clearing my mind. The day ahead would be grueling. Moranu grant me at least the questionable peace of only the most relevant images. As if summoned by my prayer, a vision flooded my mind of a regal blond woman with striking aqua eyes the same shade as the shallows of the mosaic sea. Surrounded by tropical greenery and a landscape painted on the walls, she wore a kingdom’s wealth of jewels and a klút of vividly embroidered silk. The style of her traditional Dasnarian garb and the location indicated that she must be in the seraglio of the Imperial Palace.

  She curtseyed deeply to another woman, much older, with elaborately styled hair so pale as to appear white. Though the bones of her face spoke of a once-extraordinary beauty, unhappiness and cruelty had carved itself into the older woman’s face. Cruel lines bracketed her mouth as she sucked on an enameled pipe, smoke wafting out of her flaring nostrils, making her look more than a little like a dragon. The aqua-eyed woman straightened and spoke to her elder, calling her Dowager Empress Hulda, and promised to see her will done.

  She rose and glided away with the same tutored grace Karyn displayed. Another blonde, who’d been standing back, face demurely lowered, raised her head. They were clearly sisters, though the second woman’s hair was a much deeper bronze, and her large eyes were golden brown. “What does Hulda want now?” she asked.

  The aqua-eyed woman glanced back, walked a bit farther, then inclined her head to the other. “It seems Hestar’s bid to marry Harlan’s queen has failed.”

  “Surprising no one. Jepp said they loved each other. No woman Harlan loves would betray him by marrying another.”

  “And yet, arguably unwise of her.”

  “You did warn her.”

  “Yes, and now I must send a new warning.”

  “I’ll ask Akamai to meet us for tea. But you still haven’t said why Hulda summoned you.”

  The aqua-eyed blonde glanced back once more, then around them where children splashed in a tiled lagoon and an elderly woman reclined on pillows, smoking another pipe as Hulda had. She lowered her voice further. In the way of visions, though, when I could hear anything, I heard every word. “She wanted me to tell Kral that his time has nearly come. I’m to summon him home.”

  The sister took a breath. “Will you?”

  “What choice do I have? It’s my place to obey.” Her smooth voice revealed no emotion.

  “But will Kral obey?” the darker blonde asked with a crafty smile that the other echoed.

  “We shall see,” the elder sister allowed. “And we shall be very careful of our phrasing.”

  The vision receded as gently as it had arrived, and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least no death and horror—only unsettling information. The sky had brightened and cries of sea birds echoed from the water, along with the calls of people in human and animal form. A null space crossed the southern border of Annfwn, followed by a second. Zynda and Djakos, on their way. Which meant I couldn’t loll in bed any longer.

  Getting up, I stretched, still feeling the effects of yesterday’s fight, along with a faint twinge in my injured hip as I moved into the bathing chamber. I looked awful, my face puffy and eyes even more swollen than they’d felt from my prodigious weeping the night before. This morning that definitely called for the shapeshifting shortcut to personal grooming. Concentrate. Focus. I shifted into my First Form, the lion, taking a moment to settle into it. Then, with meticulous care, I shifted back to myself, holding firm in my mind how I should look in human form.

  Tala children drilled in this—one of the skills they practiced in the once-safe training arena—until they were able to return to a groomed form out of habit. What they were able to do without a second thought, I had to carefully think through, as if shapeshifting would forever be a second language for me.

  I supposed it was—and having a second language was better than only one, or none at all.

  The woman who faced me in the mirror looked considerably better, hair flowing unsnarled, face smooth and eyes bright, showing no sign of the ravages of emotion. Since I’d be playing queen more than sorceress in the coming hours, I exchanged the simple shift I’d taken human form wearing for a more formal gown. Nothing like what my ladies used to garb me in when I was a princess, the dress was nevertheless fancier than most Tala clothing. In a deep red that looked black in the shadows, it fit closely enough in the bodice not to hamper my movements, then flowed into a long, full skirt.

  Spurred by the conversation of the night before, I dug Salena’s ruby necklace out of my jewel chest and donned it. If the gems truly contained helpful magic I could use against Deyrr, I’d be a fool not to take advantage of them. It struck me then, how exactly they matched the bloodred cabochon ruby in my wedding ring. I held up my hand, moving it so the stone gleamed in the early morning light. In an elegantly carved setting of Moranu’s shining silver, the smooth, convex surface of the ruby looked nearly black—until it caught the light just right, and the intense scarlet depths flared to life.

  It suited me—and reminded me
of myself, someone who had always appeared to be unspectacular, but with hidden depths. That was no doubt vain of me to see the jewel and myself that way, but I’d kind of thought that Rayfe had seen the parallel and chosen the ring for that reason.

  Now I realized that this ring, too, came from the Queen’s jewelry collection. As king, Rayfe would’ve had access to it, and it made perfect sense for him to have given it to me, the woman he’d married to bring back and serve as Queen of the Tala.

  What other ring would have been appropriate?

  And yet…

  Probably it was a reflection of my overall unhappiness with him, but the realization was salt in the emotional wounds. The ring hadn’t been the gift from him as I’d always believed. No—as I’d always assumed. He’d never said as much, so the error was mine. He’d simply restored my legacy to me. I could hardly fault him for that.

  I only wished my bruised heart could follow that simple logic.

  After a moment of hesitation, I donned my crown—something else I also almost never wore. It would make a statement, however, and I felt I needed it. Bracing myself to face Rayfe, I opened the door to our sitting room and strode in serenely, head held high.

  A wasted effort as he wasn’t there. The door to the spare bedchamber stood open, and for a moment I thought maybe he’d never returned the night before. But, no—the bedclothes were in disarray. Savagely so, as if he’d tossed and turned all night. I didn’t wish him ill, but it also made me feel somewhat better to see he’d been more bothered by our argument than he’d made out to be.

  It’s just an argument. People disagree. He’d said that as if the hateful, hurtful words meant nothing, as if our marriage couldn’t change, decline, or die. Surely there would come a point at which we would injure our relationship so much that it couldn’t recover, and what then?

  Another blank spot crossed the Annfwn border, this time to the west, and it shook me out of my gloomy self-involvement. That would be Kiraka bringing Dafne, Nakoa, and the new baby. There—at least meeting their little girl would bring some much-needed joy to the day.

  I made my way out through the palace, such as it was. No one in the twelve would give that name to the tiers of interconnected rooms and balconies that formed our home. Servants and various workers greeted me, and I pasted on a gracious smile, pretending I wasn’t looking for Rayfe. I didn’t see him on the road to the council chambers either. Pausing at one overlook, I watched Zynda wing in for a landing on the beach, her sleek form as brilliant as a star sapphire in the rising sunlight. Another dragon settled beside her, this one silver. I’d only seen Djakos in visions and through other eyes, but I’d know him anywhere. And not only because there were but three dragons to know. So far.

  Even from the distance, I could easily spot Ami riding behind Ash on Djakos. She was resplendent in a pink gown that flowed artfully over his sparkling silver scales, her hair somehow more radiant than the rose-gold sunrise. Ash climbed down the harness they’d strapped to Djakos—similar to the one Marskal had rigged up for riding Zynda’s dragon form, improved with modifications from the fighting harness Karyn and Zyr had found in n’Andana for his gríobhth form—then held out his arms to Ami. She swung a leg over, stood a moment in the foot strap with her arms raised high, like a painting of Glorianna as harvest mother, then let herself fall. I could imagine her delighted peal of laughter as Ash caught her.

  “Never less than dramatic, our Ami,” Ursula commented, moving up beside me, her arm through Harlan’s. He nodded a good morning to me, also watching the scene on the beach, a half smile on his face.

  “But she does it so well,” I replied.

  “Indeed. Good thing we love her so much,” Ursula said, and we shared a smile. She looked me over. “You look queenly today.”

  Ursula so rarely commented on anyone’s appearance that her words struck me with a sick realization. I’d dressed entirely the wrong way if I wanted to soothe Rayfe’s ire. I should’ve tried to look less queenly. Instead, I’d gone further. Well, too late now—and, besides, I’d followed my own inclinations. While I hated having him so angry with me, I wouldn’t stop being who I needed to be in order to make him feel better. I returned Ursula’s scrutiny, noting her fighting leathers—boots on her feet—sword and plenty of knives strapped on in various places. She also wore our mother’s ruby jewelry, which oddly didn’t look out of place with the warrior’s gear.

  “And you look ready for war,” I noted. Harlan, too, in the sleeveless leather vest he liked to wear in Annfwn’s heat, his broadsword sheathed on his back.

  Ursula smiled thinly. “Yes. Yes, I am. We both are, in different ways, aren’t we?”

  An excellent point.

  “Marskal has his hands full,” Harlan commented, tipping his head at the scene below.

  Zynda had snaked her long neck around, dropping her pointed jaw so her man-sized eye stared down a bear cub struggling to escape Marskal’s grip as he tried to shimmy down the harness. A black kitten made an amazing leap to land on Zynda’s snout, running lickety-split up between her eyes to perch between the curving blue-black horned ears. Zynda snorted a lick of flame, which made both children freeze long enough for Marskal to leap free. As soon as he hit sand, Zynda’s massive form collapsed into her human one, the black kitten held firmly in her arms.

  “Impressive that she can do that,” Ursula said, “move Stella from her head to her hands as she shifts.”

  “Zynda is renowned as our most talented shapeshifter for a reason. She truly shares Salena’s gifts in that way.”

  “But she doesn’t carry the mark of the Tala,” she replied, watching me keenly, “so she could never be queen of the Tala.”

  “Well, that’s correct and not,” I temporized. “Don’t snort at me. These things aren’t clear cut. Zynda has the right blood to be queen, but the wrong temperament—and she flat refused to consider it, even as a girl. Zyr has all the qualifications, too, but he can’t be king, though for different reasons. Rayfe does not have the mark, and he was able to win his place as king anyway. The mark has more to do with ability to access the Heart and manipulate that magic than anything else.”

  “And Stella has it, but Astar doesn’t—and yet they can both shift.”

  “Exactly.” I smiled sunnily at her frown. “Lots of those with Tala blood can shapeshift. The mark is something extra. Here comes Kiraka with our Nahanaun friends.”

  The great bronze shape of the ancient dragon Kiraka winged in low over the sea. “Greetings, Queen Andromeda,” she said, her mind-voice rustling like dried leaves. “Permission to land on your shores?”

  “Always, Lady Kiraka. Annfwn is also your home.”

  “Hmpf. I prefer to be certain of my welcome when mighty sorceresses are involved.”

  I laughed mentally, partly in affection for the cantankerous old dragon, and partly at the implication I could do much of anything against the n’Andanan shapeshifter who’d once been a substantial sorceress in her own right. I doubted that had changed just because she’d permanently settled into dragon form. Besides, not much stood up to dragon fire.

  “Something amusing?” Ursula asked.

  “Kiraka. Her humor is quite dry.” Kiraka winged to a neat landing, barely stirring the sand, and practically melted into a boneless slide that put her passengers within easy reach of the ground. Still, Nakoa simply gathered Dafne’s slighter body into his arms and leapt powerfully to the sand, the silver threading his dark hair glittering, the golden dragon torc and armbands a bright counterpoint.

  “Showoff,” Ursula muttered.

  “I could do that,” Harlan pointed out, “if you’re feeling like you need to put on a display.”

  She gave him a withering look. “No, thank you. We’re full up on manly muscular displays. Looks like they’ve got the kids corralled and are heading up. Let’s walk on to the council chambers and eat something before the rest of the hoard arrives.”

  He smiled easily, saluting her with the Elskathorrl. “As my
lady wife commands.”

  “Could I have a word with Harlan?” I figured this might be a conversation better had in private.

  He and Ursula exchanged glances. “I’ll meet you there,” she said, moving to go.

  “No.” He caught her elbow, changing it to a caress that slid smoothly down her inner arm. “Stay. No more secrets.”

  She softened, then looked to me and shrugged. “Andi?”

  “Yes, that’s fine. My discretion was more out of consideration for you, Harlan. I had a vision this morning, and I’d like to get your insight.” I described what I’d seen and heard, and he sobered as I spoke.

  He scratched his fingers over his scalp. “Inga,” he said. “She had eyes that color. And Helva’s were brown, like our mother’s. Hulda is Kral’s mother. She’s dowager empress now, since Hestar’s first wife is ostensibly the current empress.”

  “What is her name?” Ursula frowned as she searched her memory. “I don’t recall hearing it.”

  He lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “I have no idea. If she even holds the title of empress, I doubt it does her much good. Hestar was never one to share power. Nor was Hulda, for that matter. She always ruled the other wives, so I imagine it’s no different with her daughters-in-law.”

  “So, Hulda is the one to watch,” Ursula nodded to herself, filing away that information.

  “Do you have any idea why she’d try to summon Kral?” I asked.

  Harlan sighed. “Hulda has spent the bulk of her life maneuvering to make Kral emperor. There’s been nothing too cruel or too ruthless for her to attempt in pursuit of that goal.” He and Ursula exchanged a long, speaking look, a potent secret humming through the golden bond between them. Interesting. “According to the conversation you saw,” he continued, “Hulda sees Hestar’s failure to wed Ban to Ursula as an opportunity.”

  “For my part, I’m most interested that Inga mentioned sending a message via Akamai,” Ursula put in. “That verifies that she’s our correspondent, that Akamai is with her and she’s attempting to help you.”