by Frank Morin
Shona sniffed a couple of times and forced her emotions under control. She could not delay without risking annoying the queen. She shook her head slowly. “You speak as if there is any hope for any of us surviving this nightmare.”
“There is always hope.”
Shona clung to those words, holding them as an invisible lifeline. She would fight to survive, would face Connor again someday and apologize for what she had done to him. Perhaps then they could find a way to start over.
Ailsa cupped her face in her strong, calloused hands, pulled her head down a bit, and kissed her forehead. “Be strong, Shona.”
Such simple words shouldn’t help much in the face of Queen Dreokt’s insanity, but somehow they did.
“At least you have a few extra minutes to prepare yourself today,” Ailsa said.
“What are you talking about?” Shona gestured up the stairs, where light from the exit was shining into the stairwell. “We’re almost there.”
Ailsa shook her head. “You really have been distracted today. The queen has decreed that she will hold audience in a different location. It’s a beautiful, sunny day, and is unusually warm outside. She will hold court on the loch.”
“You mean at the loch?”
Ailsa shook her head and led the way down. “No. She distinctly said on the loch.”
Shona shrugged. One more instance of the queen’s erratic decision making process. Hopefully the queen would be distracted by the different venue and not pay her much attention. Shona needed a little time to compose herself.
When they reached the enormous main atrium room, Shona learned that the queen had also ordered the entire palace emptied. The exceptions allowing people to stand above her was rescinded for the day, so they joined tens of thousands of others hurrying to evacuate. As the flood of people swept out the lower exits and took the steep boulevards or long stairs down toward the lower levels of the city, Shona and Ailsa turned down a smaller stair that angled back under the lowest level of the palace where it extended more than a hundred yards out over the loch.
Shona had never seen the underside of the palace before. Thick stone pillars marched across the loch, supporting the massive palace, while dozens of boats and barges were docked along a series of long, stone wharves. By the piles of crates and bags and boxes, Shona guessed that much of the supplies required to run the enormous palace must arrive by boat every day. Now the entire wharf area was silent but for the creaking of hawsers and the gentle banging of boats against the padded sides of the wharves.
Deep shadows held sway down there, despite the bright sunlight streaming through the billowing mists across the rest of the loch. Shona immediately tapped her limestone, hanging on a heavy gold chain around her neck. She smiled as she connected as easy as touching her lifelong Boulder gift. As the stone blazed forth with brilliant, greenish light, she marveled anew.
She longed to learn the secret of how the queen bequeathed such marvelous new affinities. Only a handful of others had received similar gifts, and Shona had not found an excuse to speak with them about their experiences yet.
Other lords and ladies summoned to attend the queen began joining them or congregating on the opposite side of the loch. The mist-filled air was chilly with that wet cold that seemed to knife right through Shona’s clothing. She wished she had thought to bring a thicker jacket.
Or better, if she was a Firetongue she could warm herself with marble. The thought of the queen noticing her for any reason that day made her tremble with fear, but she tried to bolster her courage with the hope that maybe the queen would notice her shivering and decide to grant her a tertiary affinity.
Her musings were cut short as a rush of air swept across the loch, whipping the previously smooth service into little waves. Queen Dreokt descended out of the sky, directly above the center of the loch, floating with regal grace that not even that infernal Builder Verena could hope to match in the skies.
All conversation ceased among the nobles gathered around the loch as the queen touched down upon the surface, and the entire loch immediately became as smooth as glass. Stragglers out of the palace who were not invited to attend the queen accelerated their pace, rushing down toward the lower level with terrified haste lest the queen decide their tardiness suggested they were unworthy.
Instead of snuffing out hundreds of lives, Queen Dreokt sat upon a glittering throne of water that rose from the loch. The water refracted the bright sunlight like faceted ice crystals.
She beckoned the assembled courtiers with a sweeping gesture, and her voice boomed loudly across the waters. “Come. Join me, those privileged to attend me today. I am in a fine mood, and I wish for my most worthy servants to stand with me.”
Many hesitated. The waters were dark and cold, certainly just barely above freezing. If one fell in, they would die and sink to the depths long before they could swim out to the queen. Then again, how was that different than standing with her in the throne room where she could dissolve the floor and send them plummeting to their deaths?
Shona moved at the same time as Ailsa. Together they led the way down the last few steps to the stone walkway at the edge of the loch. Together they stepped off the dock, dropping about eight inches to the glassy smooth surface of the water.
They did not sink. The surface bowed slightly, like a piece of canvas stretched taut. It held their weight as they proceeded out onto the water. It was an impressive display of water mastery, but not unheard of. Shona only hoped walking on water was the scariest thing they had to deal with that day.
She caught sight of her father approaching from the opposite side of the loch, leading the lords and ladies from that side. Queen Dreokt smiled happily as her court joined her in the sunlight at the center of the lake. Invisible restraints held the billowing spray from the waterfall away, forming shimmering walls of mist about fifty feet away on all sides.
Without preamble, the queen declared, “Today the first interview is with a remarkable young woman who I hope will serve as a shining example of bravery and wisdom for all who live anywhere across this continent.”
At her gesture, another gust of wind rippled across the lake, this one surprisingly warm. Shona had to wonder if she had also tapped marble to make it more comfortable.
Another figure descended on that wind, and as she settled below the obscuring mists, Shona was startled to recognize Padraigin.
The rare, Althin Dawnus, one of the contenders for Tir-raon champion during the last season, looked as beautiful and graceful as ever. Shona had not become good friends with Padraigin, since she like almost everyone else had resented the inclusion of a foreign Petralist as champion. However, she had secretly admired the courage and resourcefulness that Padraigin had shown in a competition where she faced universal opposition.
Shona heard soft trilling of invisible trumpets as Padraigin settled to the lake in front of the queen. That was one of Padraigin’s signature and unusual abilities with quartzite, but Shona had never seen her fly. Had the queen taught her the trick, or had Dreokt herself orchestrated the grand entrance as a way to reinforce her words?
Either way, Shona welcomed Padraigin’s arrival with far more enthusiasm than she usually allowed herself to feel at the commencement of any interview. The queen already seemed predisposed to approve of Padraigin, and Shona was eager to speak with her after that session of court. The thought of having another friend and confidant there in Donleavy encouraged her tremendously. That’s exactly what she needed to regain her emotional footing.
Queen Dreokt greeted Padraigin with a smile. “You do yourself and your new house much honor by swearing fealty to Obrion and choosing the way of wisdom.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Padraigin’s cultured voice held only a hint of Althin accent.
Shona had not truly believed that Padraigin would keep to the agreement that allowed her to compete in the Tir-raon. Padraigin had sworn to marry into House Pilib, abandon allegiance to Althing, and commit to raising any offspri
ng as Obrioners. She had done everything she promised to do, and Shona had heard that her house already considered her their finest Petralist jewel. With her powerful gift, they clearly hoped for remarkably powerful Petralist offspring.
Queen Dreokt leaned forward slightly, her eyes fixed on Padraigin, no doubt touching her mind. Shona hoped she would be content with a quick scan and confirm Padraigin as a worthy servants. Padraigin stood calmly and confidently faced the queen, looking far more composed than most.
The queen suddenly gasped, her smile evaporating, and her benevolent expression turning in half a heartbeat to one of outrage. “You deceitful traitor!”
Shona gasped, as did many of those assembled, all retreating a hurried step. They’d all seen enough interviews to know what was coming next. Shona wanted to scream with disappointment and horror. She couldn’t bear to lose another friend. Would Queen Dreokt mind-wipe Padraigin or simply plunge her into the depths of the loch and seal her underwater forever?
Padraigin looked more resigned than terrified. She sighed and shifted into a more aggressive stance. “I had hoped to enjoy a few more days here before this moment, but no soul who enjoys freedom could ever submit to your slavery without challenge.”
Fires erupted in the queen’s eyes and she snarled, “You petulant, stupid girl. I planned to raise you to greatness, to walk hand-in-hand with you to lead your wayward nation back to the fold of my protection.”
Padraigin gave the queen a look of disgust. “You are a fallen woman, a blight on the honor of all nobility and Petralists. I defy you, and I guarantee your reign of terror will end soon.”
Shocked gasps echoed across the loch. Shona expected the queen to tear Padraigin to ribbons. She wanted to scream at the idiot girl, but it was far too late.
Queen Dreokt laughed delightedly, as if Padraigin was her favorite niece and had said something particularly endearing. Despite being conditioned to the Queen’s erratic mood swings, Shona still felt startled.
So did Padraigin. The queen said, “My dear girl, you could have become such a worthy servant. Your bravery inspires me, even though you are sworn to such a foolish cause. Nevertheless, I respect your audacity, and I will grant what you so clearly desire. I will allow you to face me in a duel to the death.”
Queen Dreokt gestured at Ailsa. “Ensure that this young lady has all the power stone she requires.”
As Ailsa moved to Padraigin’s side, Shona felt a powerful urge to join them, but she did not dare. She already risked the queen’s wrath and could not bring more attention to herself. She hated her cowardice, hated how much Padraigin’s defiance inspired her, and hated that such a remarkable person would be executed just for thinking differently.
Padraigin glanced at her and winked. That left Shona even more unsettled. Did Padraigin know something, some secret that might turn the tide in her favor? Did anyone else know it? Or if Padraigin fell, would it be lost forever with her?
Padraigin said, “I accept your challenge.”
The queen laughed delightedly, and the laughter spread to the rest of the court. It was so ridiculous for Padraigin to act like an equal, as if she had any hope, but Padraigin faced the new mockery with the same calm that she had at the Carraig.
She spoke again. “I confess that the location leaves me at a distinct disadvantage. I request that we retire to the bank so that I may use my full range of affinities.”
Again Shona was stunned by Padraigin’s audacity. The queen did not look offended, but shook her head. “The bank is all dark and dreary today. I prefer you meet your fate in the sunlight.”
The waters beneath Padraigin suddenly boiled and bubbled and spurted all around her. Padraigin’s expression turned fearful for the first time. Shona wondered if the queen would end the dual even before it started. That seemed disingenuous, but who would challenge her on it?
Seconds later, the watery spray dissipated, revealing that Padraigin stood upon a column of earth, more than ten feet in diameter. The queen must of pulled it up from beneath the loch.
Queen Dreokt made a bored wave of her hand from where she sat. “Show me what the jewel of a high house can do.”
The ground to either side of Padraigin erupted. Spears of earth shot toward the queen, but they exploded to dust that blew away in a gust of wind.
Before Padraigin could try again, the earth buckled underneath her, tumbling her across the surface of the water as if it was ice. She rolled to her feet, tapped basalt, and shot toward the queen in a fully fracked sprint. A dagger appeared in her hand.
It was a laughable attempt, but Padraigin looked sincere. Invisible trumpets blared and drums boomed in Padraigin’s wake as she closed on the queen.
The queen made no move, did not rise to meet her, but allowed Padraigin to close on her. With a shout of victory, Padraigin slashed with her dagger as she flashed past the queen.
Her blade shattered, as if the air had turned to steel. Even as Padraigin tried coming around for another pass, a cyclone howled down from above. The dark gray air shrieked like the combined death cries of all of the queen’s victims as it tore Padraigin’s feet out from under her. She fell, but the winds caught her, lifting her into the air, stretching her limbs spread-eagled as if the air currents were grasping fingers. The trumpeting horns ceased, and Padraigin opened her mouth to scream.
A gust of wind tore down her throat. Air filled her lungs to bursting, and more air poured in after. Padraigin thrashed helplessly, her expression now terrified. Her eyes flickered to Shona, and Shona read the truth there.
Padraigin was about to die. She had not learned any secret, but had merely dared become a martyr.
More air clawed into Padraigin’s mouth. Her body swelled, her ribs cracking outward, her entire body looking like it was about to burst.
Then with a surprisingly gentle sigh, the air whisked out again, taking her last breath with it. A deep calm settled over the loch, so deep Shona felt like she could hear the racing heartbeats of the people around her.
Padraigin fell dead and lifeless to the surface of the water.
The queen drummed her fingers on the bright, icy surface of the arm of her throne, looking disappointed. “The world has indeed fallen while I slept. Is there nowhere to find worthy servants any more?”
Padraigin slid beneath the surface of the water without a ripple, and it sealed behind her, as if she had never been.
Queen Dreokt turned to Shona and beckoned her closer. “My dear child, it’s time we have a little chat.”
25
An Unexpected Journey
Shona stumbled forward and nearly fell to her knees as she curtsied before Queen Dreokt. Her heart raced so fast it felt on the verge of leaping right out of her chest. She found it hard to breathe, and her limbs quivered with terror. The memory of Padraigin hanging helpless in the queen’s power kept playing through her mind, and she felt like she was about to be sick.
No. She refused to collapse into a heap like some commoner. Could she, a high lady of Obrion face her fate with less dignity than Padraigin had? Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she rose and met the queen’s penetrating gaze.
Queen Dreokt gave her the barest of approving nods. “My dear Shona, I should not feel surprised by your creativity nor by your courage in daring my wrath by intercepting those foolish boys.”
“Please accept my apology if I in any way offended you, my queen. It was not my intention.” She felt a thrill of pride that her voice did not shake.
Queen Dreokt’s mind slithered across Shona’s thoughts in a now-familiar touch, but this time it lingered longer than it had in the past. Her influence crawled into Shona’s mind, digging beneath her scattered, unfocused surface thoughts.
Her heart began to race again, but she refused to even think about her screaming terror, or the desperate desire to flee. Images began flashing behind her eyes.
Memories.
Shona couldn’t suppress a gasp as the queen’s glowing eyes seemed to consume her vision
. Her face became super-imposed over the memories flashing quickly past. After several seconds, one image rose above the others and hung in her mind, unmoving.
Connor.
Queen Dreokt rose and approached. Shona did not dare move, did not dare even wonder what form her fate would take. She forced herself to stand erect, outwardly calm, even though in her mind she stared at Connor’s face. She couldn’t even let herself wish to be with him one more time.
The queen paced around her and the silent scrutiny ratcheted up Shona’s fear.
Then abruptly, Queen Dreokt grinned, looking pleased, as if she’d just learned a wonderful secret. “You are even more interesting than I thought, child.”
She settled back to her icy throne and her influence evaporated from Shona’s mind. Shona remained rooted in place, not sure what had just happened, or whether or not she was in trouble.
“Oh, relax, child,” the queen said, making a shooing gesture. “All that formality rankles sometimes.”
Shona tried to relax, but what did the queen want her to do? She couldn’t just sprawl on the surface of the water. The thought of looking down into those dark blue depths and maybe spotting Padraigin’s body floating beneath the surface sent a fresh shudder of horror creeping up her spine.
“Patronage is such a silly thing, but I can see the reasons why it was implemented. Clever, really. The commoners are kept in line but can still be harvested for powerful gifts. That is one way to build better Petralists, I suppose. With what knowledge remained available, it does make sense. Perhaps I should have shared more.” She laughed, as if finding that extremely funny.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Shona said, but the queen seemed to have spoken to herself, as if she had entirely forgotten Shona was there. The words encouraged her. Maybe somehow she would survive after all.
As her fear ebbed just a bit, she started wondering what the queen meant. What other information had been lost? What other ways might there be to build better Petralists?