Turi turned to find Macadamio, standing straight and tall as always as if he had a wooden plank tied to his back. As usual, he was wearing his elegant, swollen black suit that made him look like the king’s buffoon rather than his butler.
***
“No wonder they came to ask permission to see you,” Mérdmerén said. As was usual, they had met in the kitchen where Chana had prepared lemonade and slices of bread with lard, village fare that they both liked better than the cured meats and cheeses of the North. Mérdmerén liked it because it reminded him of his days as a Deserter and took him back. It made him feel apart of the people. He did not mind being seen as low-class.
“You already knew she’d chosen me?” Turi asked nervously. He was still shaking. What had just occurred was quite simply too much.
“Well, I had noticed. She was giving you sensual looks during the first meeting at the Interworld Assembly. To say nothing of you. You could have eaten her with your eyes.”
Turi blushed and knew it was true.
“So what’s the problem?” Mérdmerén asked with his mouth full of bread. “The woman of your dreams took her clothes off in front of you, then you fucked like rabbits. It might have been the best ecstasy in your whole existence. Something like that is never going to happen again. What I say is: for a queen to proclaim her love like that—no. No, man, that just never happens. You’re really lucky.” The king smiled.
“You’re right, it’s just that—”
“I know what it is,” Mérdmerén said. “You’re not used to being seduced.”
“Well,” Turi said, “that’s one reason. But there’s more. Apparently, she’s chosen me to be her husband or something and she suggested we should have a baby. I’m not sure I’m ready for a responsibility like that! Besides, she’s nearly a decade older than I am!”
“It could be more than a decade,” the king said thoughtfully. “But what does it matter? Don’t they say love knows no barriers? I think you’re beating around the bush, my friend. Look, Turi.” Mérdmerén pointed the lard-smeared knife at him. “Let me speak quite frankly. Today you leave on an expedition to other worlds and nobody knows whether you’ll come back from it alive. There’s a whole godforsaken Armageddon in the making and as if that wasn’t enough, the universe could come to an end tomorrow. So what if the queen’s older than you are? You like her, don’t you? She chose you, didn’t she? You had a beautiful fuck and you loved it, right? So who cares?”
He went on to smear lard on a slice of bread, then sprinkled it with salt and pepper and ate it in two bites.
“Humanity is full of complexes because they never find the right person or their chosen one,” he said with his mouth full, spitting out crumbs. “Then one day, they want to go back to their youth to try a bit more variety. As for you, a spectacularly beautiful queen chooses you to be her mate and all you can do is get yourself trapped in complexes.”
Turi felt bad. Mérdmerén’s mouth was full of truth, as well as bread.
“I see,” Mérdmerén said. “You’re in love. Hence the reaction.”
The lad leaped to his feet. “No way!”
“Careful with your tongue,” the king warned him. “I’ll cut it out right here if you’re disrespectful to me again.”
The guards had to come over to check that everything was all right. One of them noticed Turi; it was Greyson, who had been busy flirting with one of the cooks.
“I can see it now,” Mérdmerén said. “Most men react with fear when they fall in love, and in the face of fear, we react with anger and confusion. Do you realize how many layers of protection you’re wearing? Free yourself, man! If you like her, go to her and say goodbye the right way. You might never see tomorrow again. Sometimes life pushes you to a point of no return, and then you have to find a way out through unknown territory.”
Turi blushed, then paled. He stood up and left the kitchen to go in search of Meromérila.
***
Turi had arrived late at the departure point, where the other travelers were waiting for him impatiently. Thanks to him, they would be late at the meeting point in front of the Portal of the Worlds in the Fields of Flora. It would take three days to reach it at a fast pace and if that were not enough, the other travelers were there already.
Still, his lateness was well worth it. When he took his leave of Meromérila he was seduced by her slender, sensuous body, and they undressed in a matter of seconds to make love again.
It was clear that he was in love with a queen who was several years older than he was. He was barely seventeen, but he was good at pleasuring an older woman. He had no idea of what he would go through later or if he even came back alive from all this crazy business of summoning other legions from other worlds. If everything went well, the worst that awaited him was to be the chosen mate of the Queen of Gardak with a seat beside her and that would bring him all manner of benefits until the day he died.
On the way to the Fields of Flora, Elgahar never stopped asking for the details of his newly-established relationship with the queen of another world. He was impressed by the juiciest details and even more by the fact that someone like Turi should have been chosen by the queen of another planet. The other travelers kept an ear open too, gripped by the story.
Chapter XVII — Peace and Quiet
Lulita came out of the Décamon after praying for her grandson in the Decagon. Never had there been so many worshippers in the Empire. After the announcement that the Gods had died, the people had turned more to religion.
“We must pray to the God of Light,” said most of those in the streets. “Help him to return to us.”
“He’s disappeared and returned many times,” said others. “You’ll see, he’ll come back from wherever he’s hiding.”
Lulita had stopped believing in the Gods after she had found out that her grandson was the God of Light reincarnated. Of course, she had not stopped believing just like that. It had been a gradual change that had led her to stop believing that they were humanity’s only salvation. There were gods of gods; and many, like the Wild People, believed in a single entity.
It was not that she did not believe in her grandson. Certainly, she believed in him, but she simply did not accept that the Gods were the only explanation for what happened in life. Life was too complex for a bunch of dead gods to be able to explain all the details of existence.
As she came out of the Décamon, she heard a couple of builders talking about the main issue in the village during these strange days. Too many wars had shaken the people, and now new worlds were being discovered, and new races being introduced at the same time.
The village people did not react well to so many changes. Far worse when they were a long way from what was happening and the small amount of news from the North ended up being twisted. Besides, everybody knew that these foreigners were being welcomed generously, and it was not fair that the nobles should be spending their wealth on feasting strangers when their people were on the edge of misery.
“Mérdmerén’s tricked us,” one of the builders was saying. He wore a thick goatskin to protect himself against the cold winter and its accompanying snow. At least the snow was lessening and the ice was beginning to melt.
“The new king’s been promising changes, but he never said he’d be bringing a bunch of rabble from other worlds, least of all insects that could break a man in half without thinking twice about it. What could I do against an insect as big as that? Shit my pants, for sure!”
“They say he’s invited the leader of the Divine Providence,” his partner said. “They are a nation you and I grew up knowing as a deadly enemy. Have they forgotten that? We’ve been fighting the Divine Providence for centuries, over that damn land of Ementhal Bloss? And then they make peace just like that and our bloody king invites their leader to break bread with him. He’s shameless. He’s a pimp. He’s turned the Imperial Palace into a brothel. He’s going to ruin our culture, mixing us up with so many immigrants from other worlds, tha
t’s what I say.”
Lulita had stopped at a kiosk to listen to the conversation. She liked listening to gossip.
“Wars, immigrants, insects,” said the man in the goatskin. “All these changes are happening too fast for my taste. When the Aherons ruled, we didn’t have these problems. There was stability.”
“Even the kings before the Aherons kept everything pretty stable,” his partner pointed out. “But now this bloody Lion’s Fist has come to screw us all. And what do you think about this winter? Don’t you think it’s all the fault of that ass-licker of a king we’ve got?”
Lulita had heard enough. She went on her way to the central market where she bought vegetables and meat for the week. Business was good, and the Holy Comment Ranch had begun to export potatoes and carrots to the neighboring villages and towns. With the onslaught of winter, they had found themselves in need of food when their crops, used to the summer heat, had died.
The rumors were the same everywhere. Even in the neighboring villages, there was talk of the same instability because of the immigration of beings from other planets. The people were unhappy, wanting to go back to the stability they had known when the village of San San-Tera had not yet been touched by evil. But that would be impossible.
People forget too easily and most had not stopped to think that the village would never be the same. Both the Empire itself and the world of the Meridian were changing forever. Lulita, like Luchy and Lombardo, knew quite a bit about what had happened, Manchego’s origins, Mórgomiel’s resurrection, and the existence of Kanumorsus. Most of the people, on the other hand, did not know these details. Most thought that the world revolved around the Mandrake Empire, their simple life would go on forever, and there were no planets other than the Meridian.
***
When she got back to the estate, she found Tomasa making dinner now that she had finished her work as the administrator. She had gained more weight on top of the excess she already carried, so that now rather than resembling a muscular bear, she looked like a giant golden ball thanks to her skin. The big woman had left behind her fieldwork and now she ate and ate, but never spent the excess energy.
Rufus greeted her with an affectionate whine. The grandmother bent over to scratch him behind the ears. The dog spent most of his time guarding the flock of sheep, bothering the poor hens, or socializing with the other animals of the estate. Things were going well. Several hands cared for the garden with its potatoes and carrots. In the intense cold of winter, it was difficult to work so they needed extra crowns to keep them safe and sound.
Luchy’s absence was remarkable, but Lulita knew it was for the best. Soon the moment would come when they would all need to take up their weapons again, and she would be ready for when that day came. She stared at the horizon and sometimes visited the observatory where she would rest her back against the Great Pine together with Rufus. She had to do this. She felt that if she did not visit Manchego’s sanctuary, the pine itself would become depressed and the land itself, its soul, would suffer as well.
“It’s coming closer,” she would tell herself as she wove every evening, thinking that Luchy would come out victorious in the dangerous game she was taking part in. Balthazar, the enigmatic shaman, had not promised results. Luchy’s jewel was winking. That must mean something.
That evening, she was sitting in her rocking chair, weaving a woolen cloak for Tomasa. “It’s coming,” she said. “The war is at hand. These times of peace are good for reconsidering facts, evaluating your own life, judging whether you’ve done well to others before death comes—because death will come. It’s come too many times to knock on my door, and I’m ready to face anything. Death is at hand.”
Rufus crossed his front paws and lay on them, his eyes piercing the distant sunset.
“This old woman is ready to hand over everything, every last thing, to death.”
Part II
Chapter XVIII — Emeralds in Allündel
A sudden cold gripped her senses, followed by a brief period of panic. The moment she came out of the portal and opened her eyes, these feelings were replaced by an intense enthusiasm. To say that a mere human had never set foot on the sacred land of the elves was true unless Manchego and Balthazar were considered human.
Is that the Deep Azure of the Skies? Luchy wondered. Have I died?
Flóregund explained. “Over there is Negmalán, the nebula of a thousand stars being born. Over that way is Iluínda, the nebula shaped like a cat’s eye and the result of the explosion of a very ancient star.”
The girl was spellbound. She could not take her eyes off the sky. The moorland… It was like being in the middle of nowhere, floating on a piece of land. That is exactly what Allündel was.
“What is a nebula?” she asked.
“Ah. Well, it’s a giant cloud made up of the most arcane elements. The older elves say they were made during the Days of Creation,” The elf was trying to impress her, but Luchy’s attention was focused on the stars.
She had watched thousands of sunrises and sunsets of all kinds but had never been exposed to the nebulae of eternity. Those shades of cyan, metallic turquoise, deep and impossible colors—to see those nebulae was like seeing into the soul of the universe. Could it be true? Was she in the presence of the soul of creation?
Her eyes devoured the images around her, where the variously-shaped nebulae contained thousands upon thousands of tiny dots that flashed at their own pace and rhythm.
One had the form of an eagle, another looked like the eyes of a cat. This was impossible. It had to be a mistake. It must be a dream.
Luchy lowered her eyes and noticed that she was standing on a platform made of perfectly-trimmed grass. The platform was on a gigantic tree whose leaves looked like a cloud. Around them, she noticed a dozen tiny lights floating free. These were of different colors ranging from yellow to a selection of pinks. She thought of Teitú and noticed that Alaris was moving away to join the luminous beings. They were seraphs!
“Welcome, Luciella Buvarzo-Portacasa, to Allündel, the refuge of the elves, our sacred land, and shelter of the last homes of the elves. It is a patch of the earth that was saved from our planet, Érvein, which is now destroyed.”
I must be strong. I must be strong. I must be strong! she said to herself over and over again. Elves? Allündel? Balthazar had warned her. She pinched herself twice, first gently, and then quite hard. But the pain would not arouse her from her trance. She wanted to shout, jump, celebrate. She was now in the land of the elves! In front of her was what until now must have been the most handsome elf she had ever seen!
“Princess of the House of the Holy Comment, you have come at the perfect time. Our Council is in Uyca, the tower of towers where matters of great importance are discussed. My name is Uín and I am one of the members of the Council of these lands of dreams.”
The elf’s mouth did not quite match what he was telling her, reminding her that she did not understand the elven language and that it must be thanks to a Naevas Aedán that she was able to understand what he had said. Where was Alaris? Could he communicate at great distances? She was surrounded by seraphs. Perhaps one of them had done her the favor of translating the elf’s words.
She came out of the trance which had been provoked by the beauty she was contemplating and said, “Thank you—” She was about to protest that she was no princess, but realized that she would never convince anybody that they were wrong.
“Job done,” Flóregund added with an odd grimace. “I have brought her as I was asked to do,” he said haughtily.
Mojak said nothing.
“The effort you have devoted to bringing Luciella to this land is an act that will be eternally remembered. The Wild Man, chosen by Balthazar himself, and Flóregund of the House of Nina the Princess of Yonder, you honor us with your efforts. Come, my friends, the meeting must not be delayed. Karsa is waiting for Luchy so that she may be dressed in the correct attire for attending Uyca. Garments of wyvern-skin, although imp
ressive, are not appropriate for our ceremonies.”
When they began their descent from the platform, Luchy’s eyes bulge from their sockets. The wonder she was feeling was so strong it might well have killed an old person. The giant trees—beings called Lï, she learned from Flóregund—were an impressive sight.
“A city among the trees,” she muttered. “It’s impossible! I can’t be seeing this…”
Uín spent a few moments explaining the complexity of Allündel and the bridges made of elemín that connected the trees. Although he would have loved to pass on all his wisdom about these trees, he knew that time was limited and that they needed to make haste if they wished to stop Mórgomiel.
***
It was thanks to the combined efforts of Karsa and Flóregund that Luchy did not lose her sanity. In the world of the Meridian, several hours would have passed since she had set foot on sacred land which, in Allündel, was the equivalent of the Passing of Sands.
Concepts like the Sands, the long bridges between the trees, the fact that thousands of Naevas Aedán floated freely in the great city, and so many other mysteries she barely understood, were driving her insane.
“He was here, right here, with his dragon,” Karsa explained. The elf girl was very pretty, Luchy thought. She had never seen a more beautiful woman.
“Dragon?”
“Each god has his own dragon,” Karsa explained. “At least, the Gods of the Five Essences do. Five essences, five dragons. I think there are other gods, but they don’t have their own dragons. In the same way, there are free dragons who don’t have riders.”
“Tell me about Manchego and his dragon. What was his name?”
Necromancer’s Sorrow: (Series Finale) Page 14