The Fate of the Tala

by Jeffe Kennedy

  “Wow, thanks.” I wiped my face again, making sure my cheeks were dry, determined to be done with sniveling over my sorry self.

  “Understandably a mess,” Ami put in with a fierce look at Ursula.

  “Also, obviously, Rayfe is King of the Tala,” Zynda added. “We’ve been working on the assumption that Hestar wanted Tala help to tear Deyrr from his throat, and we confirmed that Rayfe will lead the Tala forces, except for Kiraka’s select division. What if the Tala can be effective in destroying Deyrr? With this move, the high priestess has attempted to nullify or subvert our two most effective leaders for that effort: Andi and Rayfe.”

  “Hmm.” Ursula paused in her pacing. “Thinking over the discussion just now, Rayfe very much wanted to dissuade us from finding n’Andana. He went so far as to forbid his own subjects from looking for it.”

  Zynda smiled easily. “Fortunately for us, his subjects aren’t terribly biddable.”

  Ursula blew out a breath, rolled her head on her shoulders, and finally returned to sit at the table. “I don’t like overruling Rayfe’s commands.”

  “I’m sure he’d be shocked to hear it,” I replied drily. “Still, you are Her Fucking Majesty the High—”

  “I was mad when I said that,” Ami protested. “There’s no reason to keep bringing it up.”

  “Andi is right,” Zynda put in gravely. “As Her Fucking Majesty, High Queen Ursula can overrule Rayfe’s commands.” Ami glared at her.

  “He won’t like it,” Ursula warned us, unnecessarily.

  “We already had a terrible fight last night about me not respecting his authority and making decisions without him,” I agreed glumly, remembering how I’d cried my eyes out over it the evening before. So many tears—and how it grated that the high priestess had been the one to reduce me to it. That she’d witnessed my flailing and no doubt gloried in it.

  “Is that something you and Rayfe fight about regularly?” Ami asked sympathetically.

  “Actually no. That’s part of why the argument floored me. Rayfe has always respected my opinions and autonomy as queen. It wasn’t like him to—” I sat up straighter. “Oh.”

  “See?” Ursula nodded at me. “Another way for the high priestess to undermine your decision making—and to get you to defer to what she has Rayfe pushing us to do.”

  Still, it worried me, because there had to have been a kernel of disrespect in his heart for her to make it grow into that ugly monster. How could I know what was real? I don’t know what’s real anymore, Karyn had complained piteously when I freed her of the high priestess’s control. I’d have to apologize to her that I hadn’t been more sympathetic at the time.

  “So,” Zynda announced, “since the high priestess clearly doesn’t want us to, we should attack n’Andana. Marskal, Zyr, Karyn and I can go as a small strike team.”

  “It’s still a good point that you won’t have allies when you get there,” Ursula said. “Four of you can’t fight all of Deyrr and their minions.”

  “We don’t have to fight all of them,” Zynda insisted. “Cutting off the head is a valid strategy.”

  “It won’t free all those mind-controlled people and animals, according to Andi,” Ursula replied, glancing to me for confirmation.

  “Nothing will,” I said, “except maybe divine intervention. That magic derives from Deyrr, so either it or a more powerful deity would have to cut that connection.”

  “But we can destroy the incarnation of Deyrr,” Zynda said with relish. “I bet dragon fire will melt that thing.”

  “That might work,” I conceded, “but remember it’s only an incarnation. Destroying it no more affects Deyrr than killing me would affect Moranu.”

  “Then you’re against this plan,” Ursula said, watching me keenly.

  “I’m neither for nor against any plan,” I explained patiently. “I can’t be. Stop trying to get predictions out of me.”

  “Never,” she replied with a wolfish smile. “I figure you can’t commit to particular advice, but there’s a long history of rulers and military leaders tricking information out of their oracles.”

  “What I can say,” I continued, ignoring her, “is that removing the high priestess won’t free her minions—and there’s still the cadre of lesser, but still powerful, junior priests and priestesses—but they will be without her direction and ambition. That void would create room for us to act.”

  “That sounds promising.” Ursula considered. “Though melting her with dragon fire can’t be all that easy or the n’Andanans would’ve done it in the first war.”

  “No—she almost certainly can defend against that. And she’ll know we’re coming, so we have to factor that into any plan,” I said. When Zynda opened her mouth to protest, I cocked my head at her meaningfully. “Even if we keep Rayfe from knowing, if I can sense you, she can, too.”

  Zynda subsided, unconvinced, but she waved a hand at me to continue.

  Time for me to take the gamble that my suggesting this possibility wouldn’t damage the timeline. “I do have an idea. If our people can get to the high priestess, they could ‘accidentally’ lose the focus stone to her.” I waved a hand at the gleaming jewel still lying on the table. “Through it I can get to her, and likely the physical incarnation of Deyrr, also.”

  “You can do that?” Ursula brightened. “That would be an ideal scenario.”

  “I’m pretty sure I can, but keep in mind I’ve never tried this sort of thing before.”

  “The Star of Annfwn would be even more effective,” Zynda said with quiet meaning.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “Yes, it would.”

  “But would losing the Star to her be wise?” Ursula asked, frowning.

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it, though she only frowned more darkly. “No. It isn’t wise at all. But Zynda is correct. I’ve worked with it enough that I’m well practiced at channeling magic through it. The Star is attuned to us, to Salena, to you, to those queens in Annfwn who held the Heart over all these years, and to the Heart itself. The Heart is the wellspring, the ultimate reservoir of the power the high priestess believes was stolen from her, and she wants it badly enough that she might ignore the coincidence of it being thrust into her hands.”

  “The perfect bait and the perfect weapon to turn against her,” Zynda confirmed. “I like this plan.”

  “But she wants the Star because she can use it, right?” Ami asked. “Once it’s in her possession, she’ll be that much more powerful.”

  “Very true. But there will be a tipping point, a brief moment when she connects to it—and to me—when I can strike before she’s able to use it.”

  “You slipped into future tense,” Ursula noted. “Does that mean you’ve seen this and it will work?”

  I sighed mentally for the slip. “I have seen it, yes.” And hadn’t been at all sure how such a thing would come to pass, so it was interesting to see those pieces fall into place.

  “But there are no guarantees it will work.” Ursula nodded to herself. “With those odds, I’m against—”

  “Ursula.” I interrupted, cutting off that line of thinking. “There are no guarantees. Nothing we do is certain to work. I told you before—the odds are crushingly against us. There are simply a few possible actions that have a chance of working. Maybe.”

  She stared at me, obviously searching for a reply.

  “I know,” I said. “I wish I could say differently, but that’s where we stand. We are at the end of the maze, the final sticking point.”

  “The one Mother saw coming long ago,” Ami said, sounding wistful.

  “Maybe our ancestors saw it even longer ago than that,” Zynda put in. “The ancient n’Andanans knew this when they took all the magic and put it in the Heart to starve Deyrr of it. And the Tala forebears knew when they fled n’Andana and expanded the barrier from the core of the Heart to encompass enough land to live on. They saw this final conflict coming and planned for it.”

  “We noticed,” Ursula mused, “Harlan and
I, when we sailed into Annfwn with you. We always thought the cliff city here seemed so poorly secured, with so many open windows and balconies, so few doors—or even doorways that can be barricaded. But from the sea, from the beach, the cliff face looks like it can be locked down tight, unassailable below a certain level.” She glanced at me.

  “Yes,” I told her. “There are stone wheels our wizards can shift into place, sealing off tunnels below and preventing access to the cliff city above.”

  “But how long can you withstand a siege?” Ursula asked with quiet meaning.

  “That’s always the question. Not long. We’ve been laying in stores, but nothing like, say, Ordnung or Windroven would have. A drawback of living in a fruitful paradise is that food storage isn’t a concern.”

  We were all silent a moment, contemplating that.

  “So,” Zynda said, coiling up her long, dark hair and sliding a jeweled pin into it to hold it in place, “this is the best plan. Avoid a siege to begin with. The four of us go to n’Andana, ‘lose’ the Star to the high priestess, and Andi takes her out.”

  “It sounds so easy, put that way,” I murmured.

  “We’ll need a distraction, so the high priestess doesn’t realize our true plan,” Ursula said, tapping the ruby in the pommel of her sword. “We’ll need to appear to be truly attacking. We need to send aerial troops at least, to appear to be launching an offensive. That will also give us something to discuss in strategy sessions that Rayfe attends, so we can feed her misinformation.”

  “Misinformation?” I sat up straighter.

  “Information we choose,” Ursula clarified, then paused. “The high priestess doesn’t know, does she, that you’re onto her trick?”

  A trick. Just a light deception where my nemesis turned my husband against me and broke my heart in the process. “No, she doesn’t. She knows I freed Karyn, but with Rayfe, I…” I couldn’t confess to them how badly I’d violated Rayfe’s mind and trust. “I made sure to cover my tracks.”

  “Excellent.” Ursula’s face sharpened with a predatory edge, fully in her element now. Zynda, however, looked at me with a line between her brows, knowing more about what I should and should not be able—and willing—to do. Hopefully she wouldn’t guess how violently I’d broken Tala code, and the trust between lovers.

  “But I can free him of her influence,” I insisted. “It will take more effort than with Karyn, but with some concentration I can…”

  Ursula was shaking her head. “Andi, I know that’s what you want to do—and I don’t blame you—but that’s your heart talking. We can use this. It’s the opening we’ve needed. Through Rayfe we can discern what she wants us to do. Through him, we can feed her misleading information that will give us a fighting chance to win this thing.”

  “I’m not leaving Rayfe in her control. I’m going to—”

  “You’re going to tip her off that we’re onto her and lose this one edge over an enemy you’ve freely admitted has all the advantages?” Ursula asked, her voice sharp as a steel blade.

  I sagged back in my chair, staring at her, horrified. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

  She didn’t bend, just gazed at me with resolute command, every inch the High Queen. “I know exactly what I’m asking, and I’m asking it anyway. Please don’t make me command it.”

  “Could you do it?” I demanded, but my voice came out ragged. “If it were Harlan?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied evenly. “I would hope that I’d still make the best choice to save my people, maybe even all the world. And if I couldn’t, I’d hope that you’d step in and hold my feet to the fire.”

  I hated that she was right.

  “It’s only for a few days, at most,” she urged me.

  Needing the warmth, I poured some tea, and nodded in concession, not trusting myself to speak.

  “Thank you. Truly,” she said. “I do know what I’m asking.” When I didn’t reply, she bit out a sigh. “All right. Let’s make the most of this gambit. The high priestess pressed us not to find n’Andana, to hunker down on our territory, so we’ll pretend to do that in front of Rayfe, then appear to accidentally leak information that we’re launching an offensive against n’Andana after all,” Ursula continued, thinking aloud.

  “And we still have the Dasnarians to deal with,” Ami reminded her.

  “As if we could forget. But I don’t see attacking the Imperial Palace or Jofarrstyr as viable options, not with our comparative numbers.”

  “I don’t know why we’re not discussing infiltrating the Imperial Palace with stealth,” Ami pointed out. “Why not do that, too?”

  “Because it’s a terrible idea,” Ursula replied in a repressive tone. “We tried it once and Jepp barely got out alive. Danu knows, Kral barely got out alive.”

  “But we have friends on the inside now,” Ami said sweetly. “And if this Hulda never leaves the palace, then we have to go after her there. If she’s truly pulling the strings, we can destroy the entire Dasnarian navy and she’ll still be coming for us. If we’re cutting off heads, we need hers, Hestar’s, and Kir’s, too.”

  “Ami,” Ursula answered with some impatience. “To infiltrate the Imperial Palace, we’d need a guide. Jepp had Kral as an escort and a plausible cover. We don’t have that anymore. I may have agreed—with serious reservations—to trust Kral for the time being, but I’m not sending the pair of them into Hulda’s clutches. From the sound of this woman, she’d happily torture Jepp to make Kral dance to her tune. Believe me, I know things that you don’t. Besides, if we have a ghost of a chance against the Dasnarian navy, we need Kral’s experience and expertise.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting we send Jepp and Kral,” Ami said, all sweetness gone, leaving stern resolve behind. “I could go.”

  “You… what?” Ursula looked torn between laughter and horror. “No.”

  “I’m not otherwise useful and I’d make an exceptional spy because nobody expects me to be anything but decorative.” She fluttered her lavish rose-gold lashes.

  “What about the fact that you don’t speak a word of Dasnarian?” Ursula shot back.

  “I don’t have to. I could go as Queen of Avonlidgh and pretend to be seeking an alliance against my mean, murderous older sister. The world knows I’m officially a widow. I could go under the guise of pursuing this marriage of alliance, if only those big, strong Dasnarian men will protect my delicate self—and my wealthy kingdom with its fertile farmlands and mineral-rich mines. Believe me, they’ll find a way to translate that.”

  Ami had actually managed to strike Ursula speechless. She eyed me, looking for clues, and I shook my head, still raw from her pushing me to essentially betray Rayfe.

  “The idea has merit,” Zynda stepped in. “Ami could possibly pull it off.”

  “Or they could figure out that Andi and I would do anything to save our baby sister and use her as a hostage against us,” Ursula replied sourly. “No. This is a bad idea.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Ami insisted. “You just don’t like it.”

  “You’re absolutely right I don’t like it. Also, I know you’re suggesting this in part because you want revenge against Kir. I’ll think about it, but right now I’m saying no.”

  Ami opened her mouth to argue, but Ursula pointed a finger at her. “No. First steps first. You are right that we have to deal with Dasnaria, but it will have to start with the navy. After all, they’re the ones on our doorstep. Battling them can be a plausible distraction for us. If we’re engaged in a war on two fronts, the high priestess will be more easily lured into Andi’s trap, thinking we’re exhausted and getting sloppy.”

  I nodded judiciously. It could work. “We could also exhaust our resources and actually make sloppy mistakes,” I pointed out.

  “Yes, but we’ll battle their ships, no matter what. We have to fight them, so we might as well pick the time and place to best enhance our overall strategy. Unless you think the barrier will hold?”

  �
�The barrier will be breached, sooner or later,” I replied. I’d thought I’d made that clear, but perhaps I hadn’t put it baldly enough. At least I could speak freely about that inevitability without Rayfe here to get riled up.

  “Because you can’t sustain it under concerted attack?” Ursula pressed.

  I actually didn’t mind the question coming from her, phrased that way, since she didn’t assume I was stretched too thin. She truly wanted to assess the underlying problems. “I can sustain the barrier under concerted attack and have done so many times. I say that the barrier will fall because every future shows that happening. I don’t know why it falls, but it does. I should be able to hold it, and if I didn’t see otherwise in the future, I’d say that I could sustain it indefinitely, with the aid of the Heart. That’s what it was designed to do, and it does the job well.”

  “Hmm.” Ursula nodded thoughtfully. None of them seemed interested in voicing the possibilities there—either that the Heart might be compromised in some way or that I would. “So, unless something changes, the barrier will hold.”

  “With one exception. Deyrr has been using that peninsula of Dasnaria to eat away at the barrier like acid. It’s thin and brittle enough there that they could potentially punch through, at least long enough for a ship to sail through. But I can and have been holding the barrier intact even there so far, so to my mind that’s not the same as the barrier collapsing entirely. Still, if they can punch through, why haven’t they? Why not take advantage of a doorway they worked so hard to create?”

  Ursula’s face got that sharp look, so like the Hawk she used for her symbol. She tapped a long finger against her temple, as if coaxing out the ideas. “Because they weren’t yet ready to attack. Because Hestar awaited my reply. But he won’t wait any longer. He’ll move soon and to his best advantage. Our window of opportunity is narrow indeed, but we can use this. I know we can. We need time to put both strategies into action, to make them dance to our tune. How do we create a delay?” She held up a hand as if we might interrupt her. Ami, Zynda, and I exchanged bemused looks.