“Yeah, but I don’t care about saving the Sunlit Lands if it puts Madeline at risk.”
“You come to me,” Patra Koja said to Madeline. “The boy goes to Arakam. If he comes with you, I will not heal this woman. The greater good must be served. If Madeline does not save Aluvorea, then magic will go the way of the Elenil, and it will grow stagnant, and then it will die.” With that he walked into the forest, disappearing into the shadow of the trees.
“No way,” Jason said.
“Jason,” Madeline said. “What if Patra Koja—”
“Arakam,” Jason said. “The dragon’s name is Arakam.”
“The plant guy is named Patra Koja.”
“He never said his name.”
Madeline blushed. “He might have said something in the last vision I had.”
“Oh.” Jason put his hands on his hips. “We have to find a better system for sharing information here.”
“What if there’s another way of healing? What if he can heal me without someone else suffering?”
What if there was a way to change everything? For her to go home? She looked at Jason, begging him to understand her. And whether it was because they had become such good friends or because they were in this psychic space and could understand each other more easily, Jason did seem to get it. Another avenue of possible healing for her changed the equation.
“So I’m going to go learn how to save Aluvorea. And you’re going to go save the Elenil who was trying to enslave and probably kill us.”
She grinned. Relief washed over her. “That’s right.”
“Sounds like old times,” he said. “Let’s go.”
19
KIDNAPPED
They have forgotten that they are one people. There is anger. There is murder. There is even war.
FROM “THE GOOD GARDENER,” AN ALUVOREAN STORY
Darius woke in a room scarcely larger than a coffin, on a narrow, uncomfortable bed. The Elenil would never allow a room like this in one of their homes, so he knew immediately that he was in a prison, or worse. His head felt thick and his stomach uneasy. He couldn’t believe Hanali had poisoned him. He put his hand on the wall as he sat up, and he felt a heavy rumbling on the other side.
“The engine,” a deep voice said. “Our room is beside the engine.”
“Break Bones!”
The great Scim warrior sat hunched in the corner, like some sort of terrifying gargoyle brought to life. “They captured me outside the city. They knew precisely where I was and picked me up with little trouble. I blame our little friend Mud.”
Darius rubbed his head. “Could be. He took me straight to Hanali.”
“The boy has always shown more cunning than courage.”
Darius swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Future leader.”
“Probably,” Break Bones admitted. “There is a small window at that end of the room.”
The window was round, half the size of a basketball. Darius turned his neck so he could get his face close to the glass. They were in the air. Far up in the air. The ground below couldn’t be seen, only massive clouds. “Headed to Pastisia,” Darius said.
Break Bones shrugged. “Unless this vessel counts as Pastisian territory, in which case, we’re there already.”
“What do we do?”
Break Bones pointed to the door. “Unlocked. Whatever we want, I suppose. Throw ourselves overboard, puncture the dirigible. Light a fire. Fight to the death.”
“I won’t be fighting to the death unless I have Archon Thenody in front of me. I have words for him before I die.”
Break Bones grinned. “I have promises to keep myself. Why, I promised your friend Wu Song that I would kill him, for that matter. He has made this a difficult promise to attend to, or indeed, to desire to attend to.”
Darius laughed. This was a promise Break Bones liked to bring up occasionally just to harass him. Break Bones knew that if he ever came after Jason or Madeline, Darius would be standing in his way, no matter what.
“Oh, and to deliver Madeline’s lifeless body into his arms, I seem to recall.”
The grin widened, revealing Break Bones’s big yellow teeth. “I hate to die leaving promises unkept.”
Darius grinned back, then looked under his bunk. “They’ve taken the Sword of Years.”
Break Bones frowned. “I assumed so the moment I saw you unconscious on the bed.”
“We should go see what is what,” Darius said.
“Agreed.”
Break Bones stood as Darius moved toward the door, but he was too big for the two of them to come to the door at the same time. “After you,” the monstrous warrior said, bowing low, his long fingernails pointing toward the door, his tusks protruding into the path. Darius had never seen him out of his war skin. But then again, they had been at war since Darius arrived.
Darius inclined his head and stepped past the Scim, opening the door a crack. No guards. He supposed there was no reason to guard them when they were flying so high. What was he going to do, take a bedsheet and try to parachute?
The hallway was narrow and paneled with polished wood. Luxurious but tight. “Servants’ quarters,” Break Bones said. That was probably correct. At least, there was no way the Elenil would stay in a room like this themselves. But this was not an Elenil airship, he reminded himself. The Elenil didn’t enjoy air travel. They had the ability to create airships or grow birds large enough to ride, but they never did.
They came to a split staircase and had to make a choice: up or down. “Up,” Darius said. “Servants are usually below decks, yes?”
Break Bones shrugged. Such things were outside his experience and below his interest. “Up or down, left or right, wake me when we find the enemy.”
So up they went. Then up again. The stairs led into a large, bright room, full of dining tables and windows. In fact, the whole front wall was window, revealing the full vista of the clouded sky. Hanali stood with his back to them, watching the clouds, his gloved hands clasped behind him. Without his sword, Darius would have to throttle Hanali with his bare hands, but so be it.
He had taken only three steps when Hanali turned, a smile on his face. “Ah! You’ve awakened. Pleasant dreams, no doubt.” He gestured to a table laden with food and drink. “Sit! Eat!”
They did neither. Hanali’s face fell in disappointment. He clapped his hands, and a human servant appeared. “Bring a larger chair for our Scim companion.” He looked pained. “I should have thought of that before you woke, Master Break Bones. It will be here in a moment, though.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Darius said.
“So dramatic! Come now, we have some time before we arrive in Pastisia—let’s not sully it with murder. Sit, please. Ah yes, there you go.” He lifted a teapot, one eyebrow raised. “Tea?”
“No,” Darius said sullenly. The idea that Hanali had drugged him earlier made him angry, but he realized that Hanali offering him a drink now was meant to do just that. Hanali wanted him angry, wanted him off balance. Darius choked down his rage.
Hanali poured himself a cup. “Now, now, it’s perfectly safe, I promise you.” He took a sip, then set the cup near Darius. “No hard feelings, Darius.” Darius didn’t move toward the cup. “Well, I must say there are some hard feelings about breaking the vase. A family heirloom, you know. Hardly seems a fair price in exchange for a small loss of consciousness.”
“Maybe you should have put away your breakables before poisoning me.”
“Touché.”
The chair came for Break Bones, and he sat in it immediately, loaded his plate, and began to eat. “Why the Pastisians?” he asked. “Have you sunk so low that the necromancers are a safe wager? None of the people of the Sunlit Lands are allied with them.”
“Because none are so bold,” Hanali said. “Once Thenody is deposed, we shall be allied with them. What a power we shall be! All our enemies will be crushed.”
Break Bones wiped the grease from his mouth with the back
of his hand. “The Scim, you mean.”
Hanali waved this comment away. “Scim, the Southern Court, the Aluvoreans, it doesn’t matter who.”
“It matters quite a lot to the Scim.”
“Bah. You’re the ones who want to bring a century of darkness to the Elenil.”
“A millennium,” Break Bones corrected.
“This is why you are here,” Hanali said. “I wish to be allied with the Scim as well, Break Bones. But this will be tricky. It will require the forgiving of old debts. We will have to set aside our bloody history to build a bloodless future.”
Darius grunted. “Is that why you took the Sword of Years from me? Afraid it will work its revenge magic on you?”
“In a way,” Hanali admitted. “I feared it would be used before you had a chance to hear the plan. My desire is to build an alliance between the Scim, the Elenil, and the Pastisians. We will storm Far Seeing together and remove the corrupted leadership. Darius, you can kill Thenody or do whatever you think is just. Then we will melt down the sword and start again. Let the past be past.”
“You get to decide that, do you?” Break Bones asked. “You feel sorry for your past injustices, so now we don’t bring up centuries of abuse at your hands?”
“At my hands?” Hanali looked at him in shock. “Surely not.”
Break Bones tore off a leg of chicken. “Come now. Let us not begin our friendship with lies and half-truths.”
“Are we friends, then?”
“Doubtful,” Break Bones said. “Doubtful indeed.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of Mrs. Raymond, who wore her plain dress and the long sleeves and gloves preferred by the Elenil. She went directly to Darius, ignoring Hanali’s greetings. “I did not know about the tea,” she said. “Hanali had told me only that he intended to convince you to join us on this trip, not that he would drug or kidnap you.”
Darius believed her. He didn’t know why. The relationship between her and the Elenil was strange: formal yet familiar. He had not seen such a relationship between many humans and Elenil.
“I have a question,” she said, “if I may.”
Hanali nodded. “I have said my piece, and there is time to consider before we arrive. Perhaps some other topic will help keep our minds from difficult decisions.”
Mrs. Raymond took Darius’s hand. “We were talking of fantasy worlds, and you mentioned Meselia when you spoke of not telling Madeline of your plan to kill the archon. You didn’t quite finish your thought, and I would very much like to know what you had to say.”
“Oh.” His face burned. His speech seemed foolish now that he knew it had all been to allow the poison to do its work, that Hanali had merely been waiting for him to fall over. “Have you read The Gold Firethorns?”
She nodded. “I know it well.”
Hanali barked a laugh. “It is so delightful listening to humans discuss their literature.”
“Because you are illiterate,” Mrs. Raymond snapped.
Hanali, chastened, took a sip of his tea and moved a small roasted bird onto his plate. “Reading and writing are impractical when I can dictate my words to a messenger bird.”
“Indeed,” Mrs. Raymond said, purposely turning away from him to make it clear he wasn’t welcome in the conversation. “The Gold Firethorns,” she said. “When Lily becomes a traitor to the Eagle King and is banished.”
“Yes,” Darius said. “And you remember Prince Ian?”
“Of course. Lily’s love, and the reason for her banishment. A noble soul.”
“‘The noblest soul in Meselia.’ And Black,” Darius said. “Black and a hero. For the first time, as I read, I saw someone filling a space in a book that might conceivably be my space. I tried to explain this to Madeline—Madeline, who I love and who loves me—and she didn’t understand. She started to tell me all about Ged in the Earthsea books and how he was a person of color too.”
Mrs. Raymond looked down at her hands. “No. I suppose she wouldn’t understand. Not at first.”
A mounting excitement came over Darius. He had tried to explain this so often and never found someone who quite got it, who understood both the joy of fantasy worlds and the feeling of being cast as the villain in every single one of them. “Meselia felt real to me in a way that other places hadn’t. I love Narnia and Middle-earth and Earthsea and all the rest, but it was work for me to come to them. I had to learn to see things from their point of view, to turn my head to the side to understand. But in The Gold Firethorns, for the first time I could see without all the work. And not just the characters, not just Prince Ian, but the profound sadness at the end of the book, with Ian missing and Lily banished, never to return to Meselia. Then, when I picked up the fourth book, I knew it would all be undone. That some old British woman wouldn’t understand that you can’t wash away all the tragedy in a few sentences in the next book, that Ian can’t appear in chapter one and bring Lily back from exile and start a new adventure. There had to be consequences—there had to be an acknowledgment that the world is broken and it doesn’t magically get repaired just because we wish it to be. But that’s the way these books are, and I prepared myself for some magical cure, knowing the author didn’t understand.”
“And then?”
“And then I started book four, The Skull and the Rose, and Lily didn’t return. Ian wasn’t found. And in book five, Graceful Lily’s Kingdom, she does return, only to discover that Ian has married someone else, and they both know it can never be between them. Even though his marriage was for the politics of Meselia and he doesn’t love his wife. Even though he and Lily have pledged their lives to one another in a hundred different ways, they can’t be married. It’s sad, tragic. But it’s real. Madeline loved all the Meselia books, but her favorite was always the last one, the last published one, anyway—The Azure World—where all evil is defeated and heroes from across time unite to destroy Kotuluk. But my favorite is Madeline’s least favorite—The Skull and the Rose. The book that remembers that the world is broken, where hard choices are made and heroes are so close to villains that more than once I wasn’t sure what the right decision would be.”
“You see the world through different eyes,” Mrs. Raymond said. “You fear Madeline will not understand.”
“I fear she’ll teach me to see it through her eyes,” Darius said. “I fear she’ll douse my anger. She’ll prevent revenge and thus justice. I love her too much to make her party to what I plan to do. It will destroy her picture of me. She sees me as King Arthur on the path to victory, the white knight who brings right instead of might.”
“She may know you better than you think,” Mrs. Raymond said. “I suspect you stopped reading too early in The Once and Future King. That great king Arthur, who united the kingdom and created the Round Table, also ordered the death of many infants to cover up an old transgression of his own.”
Darius’s eyes went wide. “What?!”
“Even the great among us make mistakes, Darius. Madeline surely knows this. Do not think she is not angry, just because she chooses a different solution. And do not do her the disservice of dismissing her. You are twined together. Anyone can see it. Why make a decision without your soul companion? Why not get her insight, even if you reject it? Would she advise you to walk this violent path? Or find another?”
A shadow flickered across Hanali’s face so quickly that Darius thought he might have imagined it, because suddenly the Elenil was laughing heartily and pounding the table. Once all eyes were on him, he wiped his own eyes with a lavender handkerchief, as if dabbing away tears. “I have to tell him,” Hanali said. “I am sorry, Mary, I cannot hold back any longer.”
“Do not call me Mary. How many times must I say it to you?”
His dazzling smile widened. “But in this case, it’s important. Darius Walker, allow me to introduce you to Mary Patricia Wall, the author of the Meselia books.”
“What?!”
Mary Patricia Wall had been missing for years. She was one of D
arius’s favorite authors, and Madeline’s favorite by far. They had talked more than once about where she could be, what could have happened. Madeline had dreamed about finding the legendary final book in the series. Darius had bought Madeline a signed copy of the first Meselia book because Mads loved it so much, and he loved her so much. It had been hard to find, because it wasn’t like new ones were coming to the market. It had been a surprising triumph to find that book, and now here he was, having found the missing author herself.
So she had been missing because . . . because she had been here, in the Sunlit Lands? So much fell into place. The books had that ring of truth to them because they were partly based on real events, no doubt. A hidden history of the Sunlit Lands, maybe, or Mary Patricia Wall’s written wishes for how life in the Sunlit Lands could have been, instead of the complicated thing it was. And this woman had been at the core of it. The first human to greet Madeline when she entered the Sunlit Lands. Darius couldn’t believe it. He stared at her. He knew it was rude, but he couldn’t stop staring at her face, as if it would reveal more details. The only thing her face revealed, though, was extreme annoyance at Hanali for sharing her story. Darius tried to think of something more to say, but the words didn’t come. He was in shock. Finally he managed to say, “But she’s been missing for decades.”
Hanali dismissed this with a wave. “Missing to you, perhaps. She has been right here all along. The poor woman wrote the Meselia books while she was in exile from the Sunlit Lands—long story—and she came sprinting back the moment I opened the door, no questions asked.”
“Like Lily,” Darius said. Mrs. Raymond stared daggers at Hanali.
“Precisely like Lily, from what I know of it,” Hanali said.
“But why? Why ‘Mrs. Raymond’?”
“It is my married name,” she said. “My husband, and the father of our child, is Ian Raymond, king of Pastisia. I am Mary Raymond now and have been for some years.”
“Her Majesty, Queen Mary Raymond,” Hanali said, not even trying to disguise his glee.
The Heartwood Crown Page 20