Realm of Ruins

by Hannah West

  “The professor is right,” Neswick agreed, raking a hand through his sparse ash-brown hair. For once, he didn’t challenge Strather. “Mountain-dwellers are too cut off from modern civilization for their own good. They are fond of their fables.”

  “What do your tales say, Sir Fye?” Jessa asked, ignoring Neswick’s interjection.

  Mercer fell silent for a beat before answering. “They say he could create plagues with a breath and tear the spirit from your body with a look. He twisted the minds of men until they crawled like beasts in confusion. His lies were like poisoned honey, and he was splendid and terrible to look upon. He could take any elicrin power from another and bestow it upon himself.”

  I repressed the shudder at my nape.

  “This sounds rather farfetched,” Mathis Lorenthi stated with a flourish of his hand.

  “Indeed,” Neswick grunted. “When did we resort to scraping riffraff off the streets to testify before this prestigious body?”

  Queen Jessa shifted in her seat and subtly clamped her teeth in frustration, the demeanor of a woman beleaguered by inanity. At once I felt both pity and great respect for her, attempting to strike at a deeper truth while shoveling through petty grievances. “What would you require to stay in our pockets and inform us of any more helpful visions you experience?” she asked Mercer.

  “I require no reward, Your Majesty.”

  Kadri and I traded bewildered expressions.

  “Regardless,” the queen went on, “you are now our guest, and we treat our guests well. Ask for anything you desire.”

  Mercer bowed his head.

  The meeting adjourned. I wanted to ask Mercer what he was playing at, but Fabian jogged down the steps to catch him first.

  “That was hardly a comforting testimony,” Kadri muttered, fidgeting with her gold jewelry out of nerves.

  Rayed approached, scrutinizing Mercer until he drew near enough to speak to us privately. He swung his intense gaze in our direction. “I don’t trust our new friend.”

  “You hardly trust anyone, Rayed.” Kadri ceased fidgeting, portraying a sense of calm. “I’m surprised you trust elicromancers enough to cast the deciding vote in their favor.”

  “This fellow seems to have stumbled into your path rather conveniently.” Rayed addressed me, overlooking his sister’s remark. “The odds of your encountering someone who could identify the language on the tablet when Devorian couldn’t are slimmer than slim.”

  “Maybe more people are familiar with it than we think,” I suggested.

  “Perhaps. But is it not odd that you chanced upon him just days after the mysterious ‘awakening’?”

  “But I was the one who asked to stop the carriage and wandered away. He wasn’t lying in the middle of the road waiting to intercept us.”

  “Even so, you can’t tell me you accept his ‘visions of the past’ at face value.”

  “I’ve seen one overcome him,” I said. “He had a fit and his eyes turned gray.”

  “Fine, but he was all too prepared to wax poetic about the ‘Lord of Elicromancers.’” The ambassador shot an apprehensive look at Mercer, who was watching us converse over Fabian’s shoulder. “If this is not an incredible coincidence, then he is dangerous,” Rayed whispered. “He is perhaps the danger.”

  “You mean…the one Devorian awakened?” I asked.

  “If he was the powerful ‘Lord of Elicromancers,’ why would he need to lie and play us all for fools?” Kadri demanded.

  “Maybe he’s not as powerful as his legends suggest.” Rayed laid a hand on my shoulder, clearly in earnest. “I fear he will take an interest in you and try to use you as Ambrosine Lorenthi did. You must be wary. As long as we don’t understand what’s causing these disasters or who is orchestrating them, it will be easy for an evil to use you as a tool or a scapegoat.”

  After a lingering look, the ambassador strode away. I pored over each moment with Mercer thus far, propping my interactions with him against the sinister backdrop of Rayed’s suspicion. It created a disturbing tableau.

  Slowly, I closed my fists and lowered them to my sides. I noticed Jovie Neswick across the chamber near the windows. The hazy sunlight glanced off her hair as she offered me a hint of a determined nod.

  If there was a creature out there that could rattle the earth, toss the sea, and stain the moon, I would not get by with useless magic.

  * * *

  I cantered along tree-clad cliffs jutting over the sea until Beyrian was a speck in the distance. Veering into a patch of woods studded with rock formations, I glanced back to see Brandar lagging behind on his black palfrey. He winced at its twitching ears as though it might sling its head around and breathe fire at him. I’d heard some elicromancers could go years without mounting a four-legged beast, but most Calgoranians took too much pride in horsemanship to exchange a saddle for the simplicity of materializing.

  When I reached the shade, a cool breeze dragged a loose lock of chestnut hair along my neck, making me shudder. I dismounted and led my borrowed palfrey to a sturdy pine, tying her with a lead rope from the saddlebag. Brandar had dismounted out of frustration and ceased pursuing me. What was the point of stalking me if no one was watching?

  Hoping not to harm my mount if the Water’s magic rushed too quickly to the fore, I left her behind, weaving through rustling branches and undergrowth dense with pale blossoms.

  When I felt truly alone but for the chirping of insects, I stopped and inhaled the briny air. My magic had only ever lurched out of me unbidden. I needed to invite it, welcome the hungry wanderer instead of waiting for him to sneak in and murder me in the night. But would it accept the invitation?

  All I knew to do was use an elicrin spell, so I decided to try a harmless one. I picked up a twig and whispered, “Farhir astam,” the duplication spell. The twig did not reproduce its identical. Nothing at all happened.

  Glend and Jovie Neswick were right. I was not an elicromancer.

  Destroy. Transform. Destroy. Transform.

  Transform.

  I plucked an immature blossom wrapped in a tight bulb. As it lay on my palm, I closed my eyes, turning inward. There in the dark cavern of my being, I located my magic, a bright little stirring inside me, like the quickening of a babe in its mother’s womb. Come on, I whispered to it, coaxing. Please come.

  The petals brushed against my palm as they unfurled.

  I opened my eyes and found the blossom growing, bursting as big as a lily though its siblings were the size of acorn shells. My mouth fell open in gleeful awe.

  But I thought of the dainty pink roses clinging to Devorian’s balcony, their petals soft as ladies’ lips. I thought of thorns and curses, darkness and conceit. Fear struck through my spirit like lightning.

  The blossom withered in my hand, its petals suddenly ashen and sharp as pricks on a thistle. I cast it to the earth. It left a jewel of blood on my palm.

  Dense clouds passed overhead. A loaded wind creaked through the boughs. I turned to look north, away from the sea and its serenity, toward the remote mountains that lay far beyond my current horizon.

  The sigh that emerged from my breast was one of surrender.

  GRAY curtain of rain coasted over the sky as soon as I stepped inside the palace. My stomach howled with hunger and my thighs ached from riding for the first time in weeks, but a supper with Kadri would soothe me.

  My failed magical trial gave me peace at the thought of retreating to Darmeska. I would live at the edge of the mountainous northwestern wilds, a suitable home for a wild creature like me. My Neutralizer and I would be rid of each other, and I wouldn’t have to face my family in Arna. Most importantly, whatever Devorian had done would be the Realm Alliance’s problem, not mine. Grandmum was right; I had enough problems of my own.

  But the serenity of resignation fled when the palace doors swung open behind me and I turned to find Glisette Lorenthi standing at the threshold.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded, expecting her lovely feature
s to contort into a sneer.

  “I wasn’t part of their scheme, Valory,” she said as the guards shut the doors behind her. “I didn’t know what Ambrosine and Devorian had planned for you.”

  I narrowed my eyes and studied her. Her golden hair hung limp and wet. You would think she’d never heard of traveling clothes; she wore a pale blue gown with a structured corset and a bejeweled sash. For security, no one could materialize inside the palace. She must have appeared just outside the gates in the driving rain, which gave me a petty sense of satisfaction. But her remorse seemed genuine—then again, so had the sisters’ pleas for help.

  “Let me take that, mistress.” The approaching attendant was helpless to stop his eyes from clinging to Glisette’s lithe form as he ushered her inside and relieved her of a blue velvet-coated trunk with silver lily clasps. It seemed she planned to stay.

  “I heard about the wave,” she continued. “I know it’s Devorian’s fault, and I want to help uncover what he’s done. I still despise you for what you did to my brother. But I swear, neither Perennia nor I knew of the plan to blame you for the resurrection spell. We would have stopped it.”

  I was relieved to be standing a level above her as I considered this. Glisette had wanted to dress me as a whore so the servants would bring me into Devorian’s lair—a silly and roundabout approach if she had known my visit with Devorian had already been arranged. Ambrosine was the one who’d told me to simply knock.

  “If you don’t believe me, I understand,” Glisette added. “But it’s the truth.”

  The head maid scurried into the foyer. “Your Highness, what a pleasant surprise! Their Majesties will be pleased to receive you. We have many out-of-town guests at present, so forgive us the few moments it will take to prepare your accommodations.”

  “Don’t bother,” Glisette said, slinging her wet hair to one shoulder. “Valory will share her room.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but Kadri spoke up from behind me. “Valory is staying with me, but there’s plenty of room for the three of us. Four of us,” she corrected, sliding her hand along Calanthe’s back. “Come this way. We’ll get you dry.”

  Glisette followed Kadri, pursued by the enamored servant toting her luggage. Reconciling myself to three days in her company, I brought up the rear.

  “How is Devorian faring?” Kadri asked as we walked.

  “The elicromancers Queen Jessa sent have been unable to improve his situation so far, but Professor Strather materialized there early this morning to evaluate him,” Glisette answered. “She doesn’t believe it’s a curse. Curses require malicious intent, and for one to be broken, the elicromancer who cast it must take the curse upon herself or die.” I could almost feel the effort it took for her to suppress a disparaging look in my direction. I glared at the back of her head, doubly irritated at the way the ends of her honeyed hair had begun drying in effortless ringlets. “It’s more like a lingering dark enchantment. Something with more power than a fairy jinx but less power than a curse. She believed it would wear off with a little help.”

  “Help?” I asked.

  “She said noncurse dark magic can fade in the face of two powers to which we all must bow: love and time.” She shrugged. “So we’ve tried to summon one of his former guests from the pleasure house, hoping maybe she’ll see through his current state—and his prior state—to the man he could be. But none of them will go back to the palace, not even for a sack of gold, and Devorian wouldn’t admit any of them anyway. He’s ordered us not to interfere. So we just have to hope, I suppose, and wait.”

  “Hope and wait,” I whispered as we arrived at Kadri’s vibrant antechamber. I had much to learn about my magic, but knowing that I wasn’t doling out malignant curses brought great comfort.

  “That sounds like more good news than bad, at least,” Kadri said, walking straight to the beverage tray to pour Glisette a cup of tea. “We haven’t discovered much about the tablet, but we have someone who sees visions of the past and who told us what little we know. Valory found him.”

  “Are you sure he can be trusted?” Glisette asked, accepting a towel from the maid and dabbing at her hair. The barb buried in her question was open to interpretation, and I chose to ignore it in light of Rayed’s theory about Mercer.

  “No, we can’t be sure,” Kadri opined, “considering he’s spent the better part of the day out at sea with Fabian.” She watched the hard rain washing down the glass doors. “I thought the weather might bring them back in time to dine with us, but I should have known. Most people would need a respite from the sea after yesterday.” Remembering the teacup in her hand, she offered it to Glisette and poured another. “Fabian insisted on holding a banquet two nights from now to honor his lost friends and ‘to welcome new ones.’ If his trust is any indication of Mercer’s character, we have nothing to fret over.”

  “Does he…fancy him?” Glisette asked, barely attempting to tread delicately around what could be a sore topic for Kadri.

  “I don’t think so,” Kadri replied, unperturbed. “Fabian is fascinated with the sea and Mercer told us that the runes on the tablet are the language of ancient sea folk.”

  “Is that so? Was he able to interpret the incantation?” Glisette set down her teacup and shed her wet gown to reveal thin lace undergarments. The head maid had fetched a robe from her trunk and now held it so the Lorenthi princess could slip out of her delicates and into the silky fabric.

  Kadri shook her head. “No. And he can’t summon visions at will.”

  “He sounds like an intriguing character,” Glisette mused, sinking down onto a cushion. “Is he handsome?”

  “Oh, very. Wouldn’t you say, Valory?”

  I grunted.

  “Valory saved his life and he couldn’t spare so much as a thank you.”

  “If anything, that will endear him to Glisette,” I said, wincing through the soreness in my thighs to sit.

  “You’re right,” Glisette sang with a cheeky smile. “I like him already.”

  A knock heralded a feast of dishes from Erdem: richly spiced vegetables, roots, and dips of yellow, red, and purple.

  After we finished a dessert of cream-stuffed dates drizzled with honey, I combed my fingers through Calanthe’s tail, thinking of Mercer again. His turnabouts from helpless invalid to smart-mouthed exploiter to amenable advisor certainly suggested a deceitful nature. Despite my renunciation of responsibility, curiosity reignited. If he was a danger, he wasn’t only a danger to me. And if I was meant to leave in three days, I might as well use that time wisely.

  Tipping a cup of steaming tea to my lips, I silently vowed to glean what I could about Mercer Fye.

  * * *

  Yet Fabian remained rather stingy with the Realm Alliance’s guest, whisking him out to sea both days prior to the banquet. I visited with Kadri and took Calanthe to play on the greens while Kadri practiced archery, searching the horizon for a ship that didn’t come.

  On my final day in Beyrian, Kadri was invited to lunch with her brother at the Erdemese embassy, so I returned to my solitary retreat along the cliffs. I dug my hands into the crumbling dirt, exhuming brimming handfuls, and tossed it in the air, hoping it would transform into grains of sand before my eyes. But it showered down as bright sparks that consumed the grass in hungry ribbons of orange fire. I attacked the flames with a saddle blanket but singed one of my fingers in the process and left a plot of scorched earth behind me.

  That evening, as Kadri lined my eyes with a black paste, I massaged the shiny streak of burned flesh. Ivria’s emerald gown sprawled out on the bed, too beautiful for me, too beautiful for anyone but her. I stared at it so forlornly that when Kadri finished painting my face, she pressed a bright, soft skirt of royal blue into my hands. “It’s a bit warm for that one anyway,” she said. “You’d sweat like a cook in the kitchen.”

  The new ensemble revealed a band of bare skin at my waist, which Kadri decorated with a strand of gold beads. She donned a light green skirt and bodice
of the same style and wrapped a gold draping with a sparkling fish scale pattern over one shoulder. Glisette wore a sheer gown with embroidery in convenient places; two pale pink sparrows hid her breasts, and silver vines intertwined and merged at her pelvis. Over it, she donned a sheer cape that clasped above her cloudy chalcedony elicrin stone. Kadri dusted our hair with a shimmery mineral powder, and at last we began our descent to the ballroom.

  A mosaic fountain at the center of the room flung its spray toward the domed ceiling. Vast windows and glass doors at the far end offered a generous view of the ocean and the incandescent sunset. They opened to a veranda lit with pierced metal lanterns. Bronze legs fashioned to look like kelp branches supported glass tabletops, and the chair backs at the head table were blue-green glass mimicking waves frozen at their peaks.

  Thanks to his height, sandy hair, and proximity to important people, I had no trouble locating Mercer. He stood in a cluster of men including Fabian, King Basil, Glend Neswick, and Rayed.

  “Is that him?” Glisette asked, latching on to Kadri’s arm as a herald announced the three of us. “He’s so lovely it’s downright wicked.”

  Fabian and Mercer broke away from the group to greet us. Though Fabian charted a straight course to his fiancée, his gaze loitered on Glisette thanks to her gown—and what lay beneath.

  “My bride,” he said, pressing a kiss to Kadri’s hand. “I feel as though I haven’t seen you in months. Only two days and I’ve forgotten how beautiful you are.”

  “And I nearly forgot you existed,” Kadri jested, her dark eyes glimmering.

  Fabian put a hand to his heart. His elicrin stone sparkled a bright citrus green. “You wound me. And whom do we have here? A Lorenthi princess?” He touched Glisette’s knuckles to his lips.

  “You can’t tell me apart from my sisters, can you?” Glisette asked, her voice barely more than a purr. “Honestly, after all the times we played together as children? You and I were almost betrothed before child betrothals went out of fashion.”