The Prince stood up and waved his hand. The ice melted away, revealing an undamaged stone beneath.
“I fail to see the point in this,” King Nattol of Iea grumbled, his large jowls giggling beneath his chin.
“Truestone is the most stubborn element on Aetria,” Odger explained as he swatted at invisible flies buzzing around him. “It is even resistant to sea water. It cannot be unmade by any single magic that you here possess.”
“If it is resistant to seawater, then cannot we create dykes to protect our islands from erosion?” Representative Malitrin of Maliao inquired.
“An astute suggestion, senator,” Queen Forsythia praised, “but I am afraid just this one block took nearly a month to craft by our Stonemaster here.”
Odger gave one final powerful swat to the stone and put himself off balance, falling to the floor.
Queen Forsythia held up her staff and the doors at the far end opened, allowing Mina to enter.
“This is my friend, Mina Duvare,” The Queen explained. “She and I have been working on a way to crack the skin of the monolith for some time. Mina, if you would.”
Mina shook her hands and readied herself. “This takes a lot out of me, so I hope I get it right the first time.”
Every eye was upon her as she stood there, meditating.
Mina’s lavender eyes sprung open. In her right hand, she gathered together a sphere of sound. In her left, she gathered a sphere of cold and ice. With great effort, she brought the two closer and closer together. They resisted, like matched poles on a magnet, but she forced them closer anyway. Sweat formed on her brow. Her muscles trembled. Her feet dug into the wood of the floor to keep herself from falling over. The two spheres deformed, fighting against one another, nearly squashing into discs in her grip, until she broke through their resistance, and the two merged.
A tornado of blue dust leapt from her hands, striking the block of Kartonite. The stone eroded away, from one end to the other, as if it were nothing more than a sand sculpture caught in the wind. In the space of a heartbeat it was completely gone, reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash.
Half the delegates rose to their feet. King Turino’s monocle fell to the floor and cracked.
“What was that?” they asked in a dozen languages.
A slight grin crossed Queen Forsythia’s face.
Mina took a second to catch her breath. “That was a synthesis. Two different kinds of magic working together at the same time, producing a third effect. In this case, I am simultaneously crystallizing ice in the pores of the stone and vibrating them with sympathetic sound waves. The vibrating ice crystals trigger the breaking point of each individual grain, causing the stone particles to break away from their neighbors and slough off.”
Everyone’s joy turned to horror as they realized what she had just done.
“Blasphemy!” Minister Nauru called out.
“How dare you bring such sacrilege into my presence?” King Quarren of Baakuu shouted.
King Turino took particular offense. “Teaching our sonic magic to an outsider is strictly forbidden. Who was your master, Mesdan, that we may bring him to justice?”
Mina wiped the sweat from her brow. “My sonic coach was Marquis de Stint, of the Umor Guild. I doubt he’d care much to appear before your tribunal.”
“A pirate?” President Kaln of Sutor scoffed, tugging at the boutonniere in his finely tailored suit. “You would bring such scum here before us?”
Queen Forsythia held up her regal hand. “Ladies, gentlemen, please. Consider for a moment, if the god Jabint or the goddess Celina truly objected to Mrs. Duvare using their magic, they could remove it from her on a whim, could they not?”
The soundness of her logic took the edge off of their outrage. Reluctantly, they took their seats again to hear her out.
Queen Forsythia stood up and addressed them earnestly. She knew in her heart that the next few moments would be the key to everything. “Individually, not a single one of our islands has the magic to defeat the Stonemasters in their monolith. But by working together, by combining our magics in synthesis, we can save all of Aetria.”
The room became as silent as the grave. You could have heard a feather drop to a table. Suspicious glances were exchanged about. Fear and reluctance, mixed with desperation and unease. A stew of panic was boiling to the surface, but the Queen stood in the center of all of it, weathering their accusatory eyes with a regal calm that seemed almost magical. Just looking at her absolute confidence made their worries diminish, if only a little.
Nikki, in particular, could hardly believe what she was seeing. Without a single word, the Queen was calming the hearts of each person. In Nikki’s eyes, she seemed positively angelic.
Finally, it was Precept Nolocauss who broke the silence.
“Queen Forsythia,” he said, standing up, his long thin beard falling down and getting lost in the folds of his robes. “My team of scholars have studied your treaty.”
He tapped the stack of papers before them. “The terms of your proposal are beyond fair. The rights of each of our peoples are ensured; we maintain self-rule within our own borders, and we are all guaranteed a share of resources, as if we were one great nation. To be honest, just the food your Treesingers could grow for my people is worth ten times to me what you are asking in return.”
He pulled a page out of the stack and held it aloft for all to see. “But this is the most important clause. During the war, Queen Forsythia will have absolute control over all our military forces. This is prudent in wartime. Debates create delays that waste lives. However, once the Stonemasters are defeated, her authority ends, and such power is then to be given to a ruling council in the new Alliance where we each will have an equal voice.”
He turned his old gray eyes to her. “That is the part that made me change my mind about you. When I was summoned here, my advisors warned me that this was a power grab. I now see that no tyrant’s heart beats in your chest.”
“Thank you Precept,” The Queen said.
His countenance fell. “Even still…to share and teach our magic freely like this to others…it’s just…it’s not something I think I can stomach.”
Queen Forsythia could tell that the tide was turning against her, yet she appeared as calm as a spring day. “I know what I am proposing is taboo. But, when faced with utter annihilation, what other choice do we have?”
“Besides, think of all we could learn from each other.” Mina added, unable to hold her tongue. “There is an untapped wealth of magic in this room. Combinations and skills we have never even considered before. Think of what we could accomplish together as a team.”
Underking Meekil slapped his rodent-like tail on the floor. “What good is it to win the war if we betray everything that is sacred to us? There are things that are more important than life itself. Like honor.”
Although she did not show it, his words cut Athel deeply. Not too long ago, she had said almost the exact same thing to Privet. It felt like a lifetime ago.
“If you become the enemy in order to win, then you have already lost,” Guru Inthanos mused through dry lips.
For a brief moment, doubt crept into her heart. Am I becoming the enemy? Would the old me have stood against me like they do now? She quickly clamped down on it.
Head monk Uriosa stood up at his table and straightened his robes. “The Kingdom of Schillotaum will never agree to what you are proposing. Our god Awhano is not like Jabint of Celina. He guards his magic jealously. It must never be gifted to anyone outside our order. We will never sign your treaty.”
Without another word, Uriosa and his delegation turned and walked out of the room.
This is bad, Athel thought to herself. But Queen Forsythia nodded graciously. “You must do what you feel is right, of course.”
Underking Meekil stood up with his aids. “I am sorry. What yo
u are trying to do is admirable. But…I would rather die than teach my skills to a Talidivian.”
Minister Nauru spat out his bite of pudding. “How dare you!”
“How dare I? After you killed our men and enslaved our women?”
“That was over two centuries ago!”
Nauru grabbed his feathered hat from the rack. “Excuse me, Queen Forsythia, but you appear to have a rodent infestation. I will not sit in the presence of a Mertrion one second longer!”
And with that, the two delegations left by separate exits.
This is very bad. “Ladies, gentlemen. I know that passions can boil close to the surface in the face of old enemies. But, think on your people. When the seas swallow up your lands, what good will your pride do them then? Now is the time to set aside our feelings and do what is necessary to save our families. Your wives, children, and husbands.”
Many more tables began gathering up their things and packing their bags.
For the briefest of moments, a look of despair passed through the Queen’s eyes.
Then the delegation from Kwi stood up. Old Chief Maaturro with his son Naanie, and his grandson Nuutrik. “The tribes of Kwi have already decided,” he announced in his raggedy old tones. “We will sign your treaty. If Tidnaa doesn’t like it, he can come and complain to us about it himself.”
Their seal was placed on the treaty, and they walked up to present it to Queen Forsythia.
“Thank you, friends,” she said in relief.
The process of packing slowed amongst the other delegates. Some began to reconsider, looking over the treaty anew, but they still hesitated.
Guru Inthanos scratched at his long craning neck. “Queen Forsythia, I cannot authorize this myself. I will have to commune with the Goddess Maa’aat first.”
He looked up, determination in his eyes. “But I will try to convince her.”
“I can ask for nothing more.”
“Well, I could care less what Rendas says,” King Dolan bellowed out angrily, slapping his seal on the treaty. “Where was our God Rendas when the Stone Council sent their secret police to punish my people? Eh? Where was he when my own son was taken from his bed at night? If Rendas wouldn’t protect us then, then I say to the pit with him now! Madaringa will sign your treaty with or without his approval.”
The passion of his words enlivened the room, encouraging those who were on the fence.
President Kaln looked up, resolved. “As will Sutor.”
“Hazari too! King Buni called out. “The God of Lightning prefers a good fight any day.”
“And Hoeun,” added King Frians. “Sponatrion owes me a few favors anyway.”
“Hauntailia also,” Proconsul Neriise stated.
Queen Forsythia realized that she had been holding her breath. The tide had turned. A dozen more declared their affirmation. As the treaties were signed and brought up to the Queen, Alder took them and began making stacks around her throne. The Queen sincerely thanked each of them in turn.
As the Wysterian Alliance was formally created, the room took on a celebratory mood. More wine was called for, and enthusiastically given. Delegates greeted and conversed with each other warmly, no longer as rivals, but as brothers. An hour ago, they had each been the masters of their own islands; now they were voices in a new choir. It was a good day.
Even King Orens’shaw of Lahiti and Kaiser Duncan of Almany laughed and shook hand and paw with one another, ending three hundred years of bad blood between them. Duncan’s clockwork arm clicked and clacked as the Lahitian pumped it energetically, his mane flopping about.
Princess Turino produced a multi-fluted Zithero; Prince Francisque took out his seal-skin lap drums. Duke Relivan brought out his lute, and spontaneous music began filling the hall. People laughed, told stories, and exchanged gifts. It became so festive, that those that stayed paid little attention to the delegations who quietly slipped out the back, their treaties left unsigned.
When she was finally afforded a break between shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, Queen Forsythia took a second to lean back in her throne.
“How bad is it?” she whispered to Alder, who was organizing the paperwork.
“Nineteen islands have formally joined with us,” Alder said back, stifling a cough.
The Queen closed her eyes. “Less than half of what I’d hoped for.”
Alder looked over his shoulder at the happy delegates. Many people were breaking out in song. Some were already drinking too much and slurring their words.
“Will it be enough?” Alder wondered.
Athel forced herself to think positively. “It will have to be.”
There was nothing more that could be done that day. Exhausted and famished, Athel and Alder could not help but let their guard down a little bit. Athel called for a plate, and enjoyed some of the sumptuous food she had been smelling all day. Alder’s dish was everything one would expect and more.
Seeing an opening, Nikki walked over and handed the Queen a glass of cherry wine. “I am sorry that my kin from Falmar refused to attend your conference. For what it is worth, I am with you, along with those of us who left the navy.”
Queen Forsythia accepted the glass graciously. As she took a sip, she noticed Nikki’s concern. “Something bothers you?”
Nikki looked up. “My Queen, do you really think the Stone Council would drop us all into the sea if they got the chance?”
Forgetting herself, Athel snickered. “Who do you think we are dealing with? This is the Stone Council. This is not the ‘give you a cupcake council,’ it’s the Stone Council.”
Nikki stared at her, bug-eyed, as Athel downed the rest of her wine.
“I know, it can be a hard thing to hear, especially for someone who served them loyally for so long,” she said, handing her the glass back.
“Um, no, it’s not that. After what they did on Madaringa, I guess it doesn’t seem like such a stretch. It’s just that…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make a joke before.”
Athel was embarrassed at her slip up.
“Oh, she’s very funny,” Alder mentioned as he placed the treaties into sealed boxes. “One time she made me dress up in a female navy uniform and dance for hours.”
Nikki’s eyes went even wider. “Did she really?”
Athel tried to compose herself. “You will forgive my indiscretion. I was a different person back then.”
Nikki eyes filled with esteem. “I would like to have met her. The women of your family are remarkable leaders. Your mother seemed perfect in every way, and you are so much like her. To be honest, it was a little daunting. You both seemed almost too perfect.”
Nikki smiled warmly. “I am glad to see that you are not so different than I.”
Athel smiled back.
They were interrupted by a drunken Duke Relivan, who wobbled up and tried to put his arm around the Queen, but only managed to snag his poufy sleeve on the corner of the back stand. “Queen Forsythia,” he burped. “I have my seal all ready to affix to the treaty, but I notice that the flowers I gave you are not on display in your hall. May I ask where they are?”
Athel chuckled nervously.
The air became chilled and whirled about the room, scattering napkins and knocking over table settings. The Mesdans all dropped to the floor in pain, their sensitive hearing overpowered by some gathering noise, beyond the range of the others, but still felt, like a sickly vibration that shook the marrow in one’s bones.
A corpse light began gathering in the center of the room. Dark chitterings and whispered mewings of the dead and the suffering.
“What is this?” Queen Forsythia called out over the gale. “I thought I told you to turn the crystal array off.”
“It is off, my Queen,” Dahoon shouted back.
The sickly light at the center of the hall took on the shape of a you
ng woman’s head. Her hair was raven black, her cheekbones high and sharp. Her black eyes scanning about as she hovered above the tiny delegates and servants. Athel recognized her instantly.
“Spirea Sotol,” she whispered.
“Actually, it’s Queen Sotol now,” she responded, venom in her voice. “And look at you, all grown up and a Queen as well.”
Queen Sotol looked around at the cowering dignitaries. “And look how your little rebellion has grown. Is this what passes for a secessionist party? I must say, I am not impressed.”
Her frightening gaze landed upon the diminutive men and women from Sutor.
“President Kaln. I would have thought better of you. To think that you would throw your lot in with these traitors.”
“We are not traitors,” Queen Forsythia insisted, defiantly stepping before the image of Spirea. “The Stone Council betrayed us. How can you defend leadership that would destroy the whole world? And for what? What could possibly be gained by sinking all of the dry land? It is madness.”
“Strange, isn’t it?” Queen Sotol mused. “You, the leader of the Alliance, and me, as the leader of the League. That the two of us should make war on one another to decide the fate of the entire world.”
“It is strange. It is strange because you and I should not be enemies. We should be friends.”
“Friends?” she asked in surprise. “Friends with a Forsythian? Don’t make me laugh. The Sotol family was destroyed by you self-righteous Forsythians. You had us executed right in front of the other Braihmin families. Spirea was the only one to escape your purging, and you betrayed even her.”
“No, that was a misunderstanding. I didn’t turn you in to the military police. In fact, I was the one who arranged your diplomatic immunity to save you from the gallows.”
Queen Sotol gave a predatory grin. “It bothers you, doesn’t it? That you had a hand in setting me on this throne. That the person who will destroy you and everything you love only had the power to do so because you gave it to her? Look at you, standing there before me, so strong and self-assured. I look forward to seeing those defiant eyes of yours filled with grief.”
Isle of Wysteria: The Monolith Crumbles Page 7