The Shadow Realm

by James Galloway

  "Tarrin, you're supposed to wait in your carriage!" Keritanima admonished him.

  "Make me," he replied bluntly.

  "Don't embarass me here!" she hissed at him in Selani. "I am a Queen, if you don't recall!"

  "Then you should have gotten me a carriage large enough to keep me from banging my head on the ceiling," he replied. "If I banged my head one more time, I was going to break a hole in the ceiling."

  Keritanima looked at him, then chuckled. "Alright, I think we can fling in the face of tradition this one time," she conceded. "Jervis, I'm sure you remember Tarrin."

  "Of course," he replied in his nasal voice. "You weren't quite so tall the last time we met, Tarrin."

  "Just wait another two years, Jervis. You'll be surprised."

  The rabbit Wikuni looked at him, then grinned in a mischievious manner. "I have little doubt," he agreed. "I really must complain to you about how you changed our little princess here. When she came back home, she was completely different. She caused no end of trouble for us."

  "That's my sister," Tarrin said without blinking. "If she wasn't causing trouble, I'd think she was sick or something."

  "Tarrin!" Keritanima protested in a petulant tone. "Do you have anything to report, Jervis?"

  "Quite a bit, actually, but it's best left for the council chamber, your Majesty," he said with a slightly smug smile.

  "Is it good news?"

  "It is excellent news, your Majesty."

  "Then let's get to it as soon as we see to the comfort of my guests," she said. "Bring them in and give them the best rooms you can find," she told the chamberlain.

  "Of course, your Majesty. Only the best," he said with a deep bow.

  "Alright then. Let's stop standing around out here," she called.

  Tarrin was led into the cavernous building after the chamberlain gave sharp commands to the servants as to where the guests would be staying. Sapphire fluttered up and landed on his shoulder to the surprise of the small bear Wikuni, a rotund female, that was leading him. She wore the livery of the Palace servants, with the lion and dragon crest emblazoned on the front of her black maid's dress. She led him along hallway after hallway, all of them carpeted adn with painting and tapestries and stands and tables holding sculptures or suits of armor or racks with ceremonial weapons hanging from them. The lavishness of the interior was as obvious as the exterior, everything about the place trying to overwhelm the visitor with the wealth and power of the Wikuni empire. Tarrin wasn't very impressed by things and objects--except works of beautiful art--mainly because he could make anything he wanted. It was strength and personal power and ability that Tarrin respected, not titles or wealth or ancestry. The Palace, to him, was a gaudily overdecorated waste of space that was mildly interesting to look at, but was ultimately a hollow thing trying to intimidate rather than impress or please. The whole place had a coldness about it, a sense that those objects displayed were a collection of booty rather than an attempt to please the eye, and the sense of the place was one of ruthlessness, mirroring those who had lived, worked, and plotted within the confines of the building.

  There was no soul in the place. That was what it was. It lacked that sense of soul that many old buildings possessed, a warmth of welcome. In fact, the place seemed hostile, somehow, as if the souls of all those who had met their end in this place, or whose ends were manufactured by the scheming that was rampant here, were trapped inside the building, screaming out their fury and despair for any who would take the time to listen to them. It did not feel like a home; it felt more like some kind of military fortress, grim and foreboding, or maybe even a mausoleum. Tarrin did not like this Palace, not a bit, and it was all he could do not to tell Keritanima that he was going to stay out in the city until it was time to leave.

  The room to which Tarrin was shown was suitably stupendous. It obviously was a very special kind of room reserved for the most distinguished guests, and he felt lost within it inside two seconds. It was just as over-decorated as the passageways, every finger of wall covered by paintings, tapestries, or shields displaying crests or coat-of-arms, and there were many dainty stands and tables holding strange abstract sculptures that consisted of strange asymmetrical or geometric shapes, bizarre art that teased at the back of his mind. The floor was covered by a massive blue rug that took up the entirety of the floor, thick and shaggy, and Tarrin's claws caught on it no less than three times as he moved through that first room. It was an apartment, a cluster of five rooms with entry only through that first room, furnished with chairs and couches and resembling a parlor. Beyond it was another sitting room, obviously meant for the private use of the occupant, with only a single couch and a pair of cushioned chairs surrounding a low table set before a large fireplace. There were three doors leading from that room. One went to a large bathroom with a tub made of stone set on a pedestal of sorts, and some strange stone-like objects for which Tarrin had no description. One resembled a washstand on a narrow pedestal, with strange knobs flanking an obvious spigot, all done in brass polished to a brilliant shine. One vaguely resembled a seat, but it was actually a bowl filled with water, with a small lever set against the side. Tarrin looked at it in curiosity, then recalled the descriptions that Keritanima had given him of the Palace, and the technological advances of her people. The basin-like thing was a sink, and the small knobs would allow running water to flow from the spigot, a place to wash his face or paws. The bowl was a toilet, something like a privy that stood alone, and it too had running water. If he flipped the handle, water would flow into the bowl and carry away the waste down a drain. The tub too had handles and a spigot looming over one end, so that the bathtub could be filled. He looked down into it, and saw a hole in the bottom where the water drained out, as well as a small piece of cork that was meant to be placed into the hole to stop it up and allow the tub to fill up.

  The second door, the one directly across from the door leading into the outer parlor, opened into a grand bedroom, filled with all sorts of furniture. The bed itself was absolutely monstrous, more than large enough to fit his tall frame, a full four-poster bed with curtains drawn around it. There were dresser chests and armoires and footchests and chairs scattered throughout the room, more than enough to hold enough clothes for ten people and seat five, and there was a large oval mirror that had to be nine spans high and five spans across at its widest point. It was set directly into the wall. The room had a large window filled with many panes of very clear, well-made glass, and the morning sun was streaming into it, casting sunbeams down onto another thick, shaggy, softly cushioning blue carpet. That room had two smaller rooms leading off each side of it, and he realized that they were closets, places to store even more clothing, or gear.

  The third door from the inner parlor led into what had to be some kind of working room. It had a large desk squarely in the center of it, and there were strange rectangular pieces of furniture behind it that had many drawers. He opened them, and found them to be too small for clothing. He opened them randomly until he found one that was stocked with many neat pieces of paper. The desk also had drawers on one side, and one of them held an inkpot and writing quills. The desk had an oil lamp atop it, for the room had no windows. At least that room had no carpet, only a wooden floor that was polished until it nearly shined.

  Tarrin wandered back into the outer parlor, feeling a little lost. It was way too much space. He would really only use one room, and occasionally use the room with the bathtub in it. What was he supposed to do with the others? He'd have to go through two rooms just to get to the two he intended to use.

  Sapphire flew around the apartment a little while, then landed on his shoulder and barked her displeasure with the arrangements. "I completely agree," he told her absently. "I'm not even sure if I can open that window for you."

  She chirped a few times, a sound that he had learned meant that she was hungry or thirsty. He Conjured a bowl, then went into the bathing room and held it under the spigot in the sink. He turned o
ne of the knobs gently, and he was surprised and a little impressed when clean, clear water poured forth from it. Running water! How did they make it pour out of the pipes like that? They had to have something pushing the water, but what? He'd have to ask Keritanima. He set the bowl on the table in the inner parlor, then Conjured Sapphire a few large chunks of raw mutton on a large platter. Sapphire seemed to really like mutton. She landed on the table, her claws scratching up the highly polished finish of the top of the table, and started eating.

  Tarrin watched her eat for a few moments, then wandered back into the bedroom and looked out the window. They were on the fourth floor, overlooking the east side of the city, towards the harbor. He could see the harbor clearly, since nothing impeded the view from the Palace, see the many Wikuni clippers and rakers, the smaller, shallow-draft ships they used for short-distance trade or defense. Keritanima had talked about the rakers, just as she had described the clippers, fast, maneuverable ships that could engage ships much larger than itself because it was very hard to hit. They also had one of their massive battleships in the harbor, a ship that looked vaguely like a galleon, but was nearly three times larger. They were largest ships afloat, three hundred spans long and a hundred spans wide at amidships, with five masts. Its side had three rows of gunport after gunport, making coming to broadside against a ship like that absolute suicide. The battleships were slow, but that much concentrated firepower in one place made its speed a moot point.

  He glanced into the inner parlor, seeing that Sapphire was still eating. So many advancements. Gunpowder, running water, cast iron, steam engines, pens that carried their own ink, those strange huge stones that were set into the quay and the road. The Wikuni were indeed far ahead of the West, even further ahead of kingdoms like Yar Arak. He realized that if the Wikuni ever went to war with the rest of the world, they would actually stand a good chance of winning. They ruled the oceans, and could land whenever and wherever they pleased. Their homeland was untouchable, allowing them to strike at any place and at any time of their choosing. It would not be a war in the traditional sense, he knew. The Wikuni weren't really interested in anything but trade, but if there was a war, they would strangle seaborne trade, sink anything not Wikuni afloat, and slowly choke off the trade that enriched all nations. But it wouldn't come to a war, because the Wikuni were traders, and war was bad for business. No nation on Sennadar with the exception of Zakkar had any issues with the Wikuni, and the Zakkites had shown over the hundred years that they had been skirmishing with the Wikuni at sea that they couldn't defeat the mighty Wikuna Navy.

  They were much different from the humans, and yet they were not. The Wikuni weren't human, but they had based their society around things that humans would easily understand. It was almost as if they had copied the humans somehow, and then realized that they could do it better. Maybe because where the many types of humans fought with one another, the Wikuni were united, working towards a common purpose. If the humans weren't so busy tearing down one another's cities, if they would actually work together, maybe they too could prosper as much as the Wikuni had.

  Sapphire flapped over and landed on his shoulder, and she looked out the window as well. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. Were they going to come for him when Keritanima was ready? She was the queen here, and that meant that she couldn't act the same way she did when they were more or less alone. She had her image to protect. He'd already seen that it was going to make her act differently. The rooms were nice, but they were...uncomfortable. Too grand, too large, and too sterile. They didn't tell him that he couldn't leave the rooms, and he realized that he really didn't want to wait in them.

  "Want to get out of here?" he asked Sapphire. She chirped emphatically, agreeing with him, and then he nodded and turned around. "Alright then, let's go look around."

  He left the apartment, and started to wander aimlessly through the halls of the WikuniPalace. It was as grand everywhere as it had been in the parts he had seen, almost garishly and lavishl decorated with art or displays from all over the world. They even had a strange suit of armor that looked to be made of wicker, of all things. He'd never seen anything like it before, but the sword at the belt of that display told him that it was armor from the Far East, since it looked much like his own sword. The same gentle curve, and after drawing it, he saw that it had the same chisel tip and elegantly constructed blade. It was much smaller than his sword, meant for a human to wield it in either one or two hands, where his own was obviously meant to be a two-handed weapon for a human. He replaced the sword carefully and continued on, wandering up and down staircases, passing many Wikuni in the hallways, and looking into any open doors that he encountered, but never leaving the passageways. The Wikuni he passed were from everything between the two opposites of Wikuni society. He passed servants in their livery, and also occasionally passed a rough-dressed Wikuni that had to be a common worker or peasant, in the Palace for some unknown reason. To a man, every Wikuni that looked as if he didn't belong in the Palace was awestruck at it, and also looked terrified to be there. He also passed any number of haughty, richly dressed Wikuni men and woman in their outrageously expensive clothes, jewels dripping from them like water, and haughty, almost sneering expressions that said that they believed that they were about ten rungs up the ladder over everyone else. Tarrin didn't like nobles, because his concept of respect and power were diametrically opposed to what they though respect and power were supposed to be. He found the lot of them to be arrogant and weak, and those two traits were very dangerous ones when combined in the face of a Were-cat. Were-cats respected strength and wisdom, and those were traits that few nobles had in any abundance.

  But the nobles he passed in the halls didn't bother him overmuch. They stared up at him in curiosity, as he could tell that they were trying to decide if he was some strange kind of Wikuni or not. They also stared at the drake on his shoulder with open greed, obviously considering his companion to be some kind of exotic pet. One Wikuni lady, a wolf Wikuni wearing a gown with a neckline low enough to leave little to the imagination, even went so far as to try to buy Sapphire from him, using badly mangled, broken Sulasian to do so. They didn't think he knew Wikuni, and in a moment of cunning, he realized that that could be an advantage, so he played along with her. He declined her offer, and then managed to meander around until he found a door that led outside.

  The door opened into a garden of sorts, not as large or grand as the one in the Tower, but still rather nice. It had gravel paths around clusters of small trees or carefully laid out patterns of different colored flowers, and there was a strange place in the middle that had no flowers at all, but rather six very large stones seemingly randomly dropped in an area of sand that was carefully combed so that the lines made by the rake swirled around the stones and filled the voids between them. The designs in the sand were abstract, but he could tell that they had some kind of meaning. Tarrin squatted down at the edge of the sand, surrounded by strange bricks that were molded into semicircles that formed a border with the sand, finger tapping on his chin as he studied the designs in the sand and tried to puzzle out the hidden meaning concealed there.

  "I never realized you had the soul of an artist, Tarrin," Miranda's voice reached him. He looked up and saw her walking towards him, and to his surprise, she had an old friend marching behind her. Sisska looked just as he remembered, with her boxy snout and her black eyes, wearing the kilt and the leather bandolier over her torso. She carried her axe negligently in one hand, a large weapon against which few could stand. Tarrin stood up and took Sisska's scaled, clawed hand when she reached him, genuinely happy to see her.

  "Her Majesty said you had grown. She did not exaggerate," Sisska said by way of greeting.

  "You're looking well, Sisska," he told her. "How are your eggs?"

  "They are in the keeping of the clan, as is proper," she replied. "Raising the hatchlings is a task of the clan, not of the parents. They will be raised in the Vendari tradition."

/>   "Well, it's good to have you back. I didn't like Szath very much."

  "He is a fine warrior, with much honor."

  "He's also as smart as a box of rocks," Tarrin grunted. "I think the only reason he's still alive is because he is so big and powerful."

  "Such things do not matter as much to us as they do to you," she told him with a level gaze.

  "I guess not. Is Binter here too?"

  "He defends the Queen."

  "I take it you came out here for a reason?" he asked Miranda.

  "Do I need a reason to come out into the garden?"

  "When I'm here, I'd say yes," he replied.

  She gave him her cheeky grin. "Actually, Kerri's looking for you. I figured you'd find your way out here, so I decided to save the messenger that would come find you from a very bad experience."

  "You're so considerate," he said dryly.

  "When did the dragon-kin come to be with you, Tarrin?" Sisska asked.

  "On the journey from Suld," he replied. "I'll tell you about it while we're walking."

  Tarrin told Sisska about what happened with the drake as Miranda led them along the halls of the Palace. Sisska seemed impressed by that, and he just had to ask why. "There are drakes in Vendaka," she replied. "They are colored gold, however. It is a very high honor if a drake befriends you, Tarrin. Drakes are creatures of honor and dignity, and they do not choose their companions lightly."