The Queen of Dreams (The Dashkova Memoirs Book 6)

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  Brassy's frozen stare looked back at me from a snowdrift. Her throat had been cut. Her glass hand gripped a bloody butcher knife. When I leaned down to get a closer look, it twitched with aliveness.

  A few steps further, the woman Ben had brought back from the Ottoman Empire, Nasrine, had been burned until her skin was black, charred. I knew it was her by the beaded belt around her waist, untouched by flame.

  Ben Franklin's motionless body made me recoil in horror. His chest was littered with bullet holes. A faint red mist hovered over his mouth and fled back inside when I tried to investigate.

  There were three more bodies in the snow: Morwen, a handsome young man whom I didn't know, and a third one buried beneath a drift with only bare feet sticking out. Six dead in the snow.

  "Beware," said a voice in the wind.

  Who? I thought, but could not speak.

  "Beware," said the voice again.

  Beware of who?

  "Beware to go forth," I said, snapping awake in the tree. My sudden movement made me shift, and I grabbed for the rough bark to steady myself. It was dim morning in the jungle, and pale filtered light dappled my legs.

  Beware to go forth? What did that mean?

  Knuckling the sleep out of my eyes, I tried to erase what I'd seen. But the dreams were imprinted into my thoughts so thoroughly, I knew them for prophecy.

  My heart thrummed at the idea I might see Catherine again. Since I'd learned she was alive, I'd tried not to think about our reunion or what it might mean for me, but logic was a poor leash to desires of the heart.

  The other images were so disturbing, I pushed them away for later consideration. As much as I wanted to, I could not ignore their message and what it meant for our future efforts.

  Lower in the tree, my nocturnal companion stirred awake with clucks and whistles. The creature had striped brown fur that blended with the bark. It had two long opposable fingers on each hand that it used to clean the fur around its face.

  When it realized I was watching it, the creature froze, staring back with wide eyes. By its doughy body and lack of claws, I knew it wasn't a predator. But neither was I, and eventually, it accepted my nonthreatening presence and went back to cleaning its fur.

  Remembering the night's brutality, I wondered at my luck that I'd found a safe place to rest. Looking around, it was hard to reconcile the docile jungle with the bloodbath that had kept me awake most of the night.

  When I leaned my head back to stretch my arms, I realized at once why we hadn't been bothered during the night. My prospects for survival suddenly seemed quite dim when I saw the first glistening black leg slip from the fleshy pod hanging a meter above my head.

  Chapter Four

  When I was a younger woman, after my husband's unfortunate death, my brother Count Alexander took me on a hunting trip to alleviate my sorrow. We were far from Moscow, in a little town called Devil's Finger beneath the sprawling Ural mountains. My brother teased me with tales of hornets the size of sparrows that patrolled the flowery fields, saying a few of them could carry me off if I wasn't careful. My brother, two years my elder, was an amiable sort, so I took his words for a jest.

  The pair of us rode through the countryside on horseback. I enjoyed men's breeches and a jacket, rather than the stiff skirts and sidesaddle that I would be expected to use if I were in the capital. At that time, I still cared too much what the other nobles thought. We carried Izhevsk hunting rifles on our mounts.

  After a rest at a spring, while on the trail of a herd of elk, we came up on a golden field. When the first hornet flew past my head, I nearly fell to the ground.

  Alexander's keen eyes spotted the nest in a gnarled oak tree on the edge of the field. The giant hornets zipped across the tops of the golden grasses.

  Knowing I wouldn't back down, Alexander challenged me to touch the tree that housed the nest. It was his way of helping me forget about Mikhail's death.

  I left my chestnut stallion stomping his hooves. Even the horses were uncomfortable with the large insects.

  Knowing that most hornets weren't aggressive unless provoked, I made my way to the tree by the most direct route possible, but slowly. A low buzz carried over the light wind as I approached. When I was a couple of meters away, a giant hornet landed on the sleeve of my jacket.

  The hornet preened its wings in the sunlight. Once it was done, it flew away. Without fanfare, I yanked a piece of bark off the trunk and returned to my brother, who applauded my deed.

  The insect that came out of the fleshy pod hanging in the upper branches of the tree made those giant hornets seem small in comparison. Then I realized the pods weren't leaves or fruit, but the insects' wings.

  The upper canopy was alive with movement as the sunlight woke the insects. Dozens shook their wings in the moist morning air. A couple took flight, circling the tree, waiting for the rest of their swarm.

  My furry companion had seen the insects as well. A soft whistle stopped short when it noticed the insects appearing in droves, black legs appearing from the pods.

  As the sun climbed higher and the light moved down the tree, more of the hornet-like insects woke from their slumber. Before long, the whole tree was alive with movement. The flutter of waking wings made the tree whisper with sound. Not knowing what might enrage them, I stayed still, only moving my eyes.

  One landed on the limb across from me. Its wide head reminded me of a bull, including two small thorny bumps that mimicked horns. I named them Bull Hornets, hoping they weren't as territorial as the male cow.

  Something moving through the undergrowth drew the attention of a half-dozen Bull Hornets. As the first insect neared, the foliage exploded with movement. A creature the size of a large squirrel burst in the other direction, bounding over plants and leaves. The Bull Hornets shot like arrows, stinging the unfortunate creature until it didn't move. The insects crowded the carcass, feeding with relish as if they were lionesses on the hunt.

  Watching the kill must have been too much for my companion, because it leapt from its perch, bounding away with powerful strides. I was surprised by its quickness, thinking its chubby body was slothful. But its compact form had hid two powerful thighs.

  This time, every Bull Hornet that was awake and not already feeding descended on my companion. I thought he might escape, but the insects were just fast enough to catch up about a hundred yards away. Unfortunately, I had a good sight line to the carnage. My furry friend screamed for a minute while the hornets stung it, then promptly fell silent.

  If there weren't more hornets waking, I might have used the distraction to escape, but I gathered even the stings of one or two might be fatal.

  The window closed when some of the Bull Hornets began returning. A particularly large specimen, about the size of an eggplant, landed on my branch. My legs straddled the wide wood, while my feet were perched on lower branches.

  The curious hornet moved within arm's reach, its wings fluttering with annoyance. It lowered its head like a dog investigating an opponent, taking tentative steps forward. I held my breath, knowing that it was trying to determine if I was prey.

  A second Bull Hornet landed on a limb above my head. The insects made little clicking noises that mimicked communication. I dearly hoped they weren't discussing my demise. The well of magic in my head frothed with readiness, but I couldn't stop the whole swarm.

  When a third and fourth hornet landed, I knew I would have little choice but to do battle. A fruitless battle, since I stood little chance of surviving. The insects seemed to be waiting for a critical number before attacking.

  The first hornet moved towards my calf. Its stinger dripped with a gray fluid.

  The clicking grew louder, drawing other hornets to my location. The flutter of wings filled the tree. Soon I was surrounded by at least twenty hornets.

  Merde.

  The smell of sweet smoke alerted me to the change. The hornets noticed right away as well. Pale tendrils of mist floated in our direction.

  Th
e cloud grew in size, drifting towards the tree I was in. As the smoke touched the tips of the branches, the insects promptly flew off.

  When the mist touched my boot, I expected the black leather to peel away from acid, but nothing happened. I had the same expectation when the smoke touched my bare flesh.

  Before long, I was thick in the middle of a white cloud. My vision was reduced to a few meters.

  My first breath proved the smoke wasn't dangerous, and was actually pleasant.

  So I wasn't surprised when I heard Morwen's voice call up at me from the jungle floor.

  "You can come down now, Katerina," she said, looking up at me through her tiger mask.

  After shaking the blood back into my legs, I climbed down to her location. Morwen Hightower looked like she'd been through a war. Her masks and clothing were smudged with mud. The right sleeve of her jacket had a sizable rip. She looked like she'd barely slept.

  "Thank you," I said. "I'm not sure I would have survived a battle with them. How did you find me?"

  Morwen's bloodshot eyes regarded me through the mask holes. "A little magic. Let's not dawdle here. I'm about out of this smoke, and I'm sick of this place. Let's get what we came for. It's not far."

  We left the sweet smoke behind us, moving cautiously through the thick foliage. We traveled about a kilometer before Morwen spoke again.

  "How did you survive the Brutho? I was certain you were lost when it followed you," she said.

  "A little luck and magic," I said.

  Morwen took my vague answer with a nod. While we were allies, I knew I couldn't completely trust the mercenary. A healthy respect for my abilities would go a long way in ensuring no betrayals. It was a lesson so many failed to learn in the Russian court: power should be jealously held, but only wielded when absolutely necessary, or your enemies might learn enough to defeat you.

  We reached a clearing ringed by trees. Morwen shifted the straps that held her glass tanks and rubbed the flesh beneath. The irritation from the masks seemed insignificant compared to her contraption.

  Morwen dug into a long pouch at her side, producing a bundle of sticks. In her nimble grip, the bundle quickly became a starburst. Each rod in the pattern looked like the skin of a rattlesnake, except brightly colored and ending with a metal point.

  "Is that a weapon?" I asked.

  She shook her head, but did not elaborate. Then she strode into the clearing and set the object on a patch of green grass.

  Morwen seemed content to stand and watch, so I kept my head turning, expecting trouble to appear. After a while, I had the sense we were being observed. It didn't feel malevolent, but I couldn't know for sure.

  Something brushed against my elbow. A painful electric shock released a cry of alarm from my lips. I looked around but saw nothing nearby.

  Morwen's tiger mask faced me.

  "Something touched me," I said. "And shocked me."

  "The guardian is curious," she replied. "Probably drawn by your prophecies or superior magic."

  "Should we be worried?"

  Morwen shrugged. "We'll know soon enough."

  The starburst object suddenly lifted in the air at the height of a child. A tentative whistle sounded into the clearing, at first hesitant, then growing stronger with time. The voice of the song changed, going lower, before shifting again.

  The eruption of song that followed, like a dozen flute players producing overlapping melodies, made me stagger with wonder. Then slowly, as if it were appearing out of an invisible mist, a massive tree appeared at the center of the clearing.

  Morwen motioned for me to join her at her side. Then pointed into the hanging branches nearest us. The wide boughs blocked the bloated red sun, but no shadow fell upon us.

  "Retrieve that fruit while the guardian still approves of our presence," she said.

  I found myself beneath the fruit, wondering how many myths had been spawned from its existence in our world. Its shape suggested a pomegranate, while its coloring was red as an apple.

  The fruit separated from the tree, and I carried it back to Morwen and tried to hand it to her, but she recoiled.

  "You must carry it," she said, her green eyes searching me. "Now let us leave before we encounter more danger. The hut isn't far."

  As we traveled back, I couldn't help but be distracted by the fruit in my hands. Its warmth reminded me of the fruits I'd gathered in the dome of the Gamayun. Holding it gave me a sense of well-being and vitality. Even after the long night and frequent near-death experiences, I felt like I could have run a hundred kilometers. Eventually, I put it in a pocket so I could concentrate on the jungle.

  My heart soared when I saw the hut crouched between two boulders thrusting up through the soil. The porch tipped forward upon our approach to allow easy entrance.

  "When you warned me that Gallasid was dangerous," I said, "I thought you might be over exaggerating. I can't say that I'll ever wish to return to this place. You wouldn't by any chance have a bath somewhere in the hut's many rooms?"

  Morwen's silence was an answer. I rubbed the meat of my palm with my thumb, wishing the ache would go away.

  "Fine," I said, preparing to climb onto the porch. "I'll just have to wait until we return to the estate."

  When Morwen didn't join me, a rope of concern twisted around my guts.

  Morwen was motionless, staring into the depths of the forest. I almost looked in the same direction before I realized what had likely ensnared her. When she took a step away from the hut, I scrambled to her side and yanked her back. At the corner of my vision, about twenty meters into the jungle, was a motionless yellow-brown figure. I was careful to keep my gaze averted.

  "Morwen," I said, shaking her until the glass tanks on her back rattled.

  She shook her head as if waking from a dream. Beneath the mask, she frowned, then gave me a nod, before marching to the hut.

  "Are you well?" I called after her, remembering what she'd told me about the Yolgothi.

  Morwen paused with one foot on the porch and spoke over her shoulder. "I've never been well, Katerina Dashkova, but when has that ever stopped me?"

  Chapter Five

  The hut returned to Philadelphia, resuming its place across from Franklin's estate. Morwen was nowhere to be found, so I stepped out of Morwen's Confectionary and Sweet House, nearly bumping into a trio of young women in gowns with colorful ribbons, who carried parasols to protect them from the unusually warm sun.

  I nearly fell over my own feet when I realized the third woman had the scaly face of a storm-kin. Her emerald scales blushed when I stared too long. The girl ducked her head and moved to a position behind her friends, making me feel the villain for not controlling my reaction.

  I wanted to hurry after the girl and apologize, but decided that my dreadful state of unwashedness would only further traumatize her. The pain in my right hand had grown stronger, so sleeping had been fitful and full of ill dreams.

  The girl's presence in open daylight was promising in itself. After Matka had released the potion into the city's water supply, changing many who had an Otherland heritage, I was afraid the city would descend into chaos. It hadn't worked on everyone—sometimes only one or two of a family changed—but enough had turned that the city had a sizeable population of nonhumans.

  We'd spent the winter educating the populous through a series of pamphlets. Vice President Simon had directed the government to protect its changed citizens, much as it would any immigrants. There had been some incidents involving those that had turned, but mostly they had gone against the attackers when it turned out the newly changed could defend themselves in unexpected ways.

  But that didn't mean their watchfulness could end, or that the jails weren't filled due to the uptick in crime. Despite America's freedom loving ways, people were prone to twisting laws and events against each other when fear drove their motivations.

  When Morwen and I had left for the Tree of Life, a layer of snow covered the cobblestone streets. That it was a
warm and sunny day suggested we'd been gone much longer than expected, which was bad news for our plans. The shield in Russia had been growing at an alarming rate, conquering new lands by default. No one knew what was going on behind the shield since it was impervious to most technology. Only tests involving self-contained lightning engines had had any effect at all. The shield had swallowed the Austrian and Prussian empires and was threatening both the French and the Ottomans'.

  No one knew if the shield could cross bigger bodies of water like the Black Sea or the English Channel. So far, the shield curved around the Black Sea, suggesting it couldn't, but the Society had no intention of assuming that as fact. And even if it couldn't, the protection the shield provided meant counterattacks were impossible, making reclaiming those lands before they were resettled by the Otherlanders, under the watchful eye of Veles, impossible.

  Ben greeted me in the parlor. He was wearing a tweed vest over a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, smudged with grease and oil. His hair matched the wild expression in his gray eyes.

  A younger man stood directly behind Ben, nervously shuffling from foot to foot.

  "Kat!" Ben captured my shoulders, his grin beaming with pride. "I take it you were successful."

  I produced the fruit from the Tree of Life and offered it to him, raising an eyebrow in the direction of his younger companion. "Morwen told me to give it to you, Temple, that you'd know what to do with it."

  "Ben," he replied as he took the fruit, then turned to the side for introductions. "This is William Sturgeon, a brilliant young physicist from England, and the other candidate for the Society."

  When Adam Smith, the famed economist, had died by the hands of the memory thieves, it had created an opening in the Transcendent Society. The Society's main purpose was to further the Enlightenment, which was under siege from Veles and the Russian Empire.

  The other candidate was Nasrine Topaz, another physicist, but from the Ottoman Empire. She was well versed in the new technologies of electricity and had spent most of her time in the Thornveld with Djata since her arrival in December.