by Sarah Wynde
Fen couldn’t breathe.
It was him. The man who had ordered Fen’s first attacker to take care of Luke. He still wore the trace of Remy’s blood on the bottom of his robe.
Fen’s lips pulled back in an involuntary snarl.
Fen, you must trust me, Kaio’s voice continued in her head. The ceremony is about to begin. You need to stand in the purple circle of light. It’s important. Lives depend on it.
Luke might already be dead and nothing she did here would change that reality for good or bad, but Fen set her teeth and moved around the stage to the steps.
Fucking Val Kyr.
The Queen raised her hands and the crowd fell silent. When she spoke, her voice was as gentle as Fen remembered, and yet it filled the room. Fen paused on the steps. She might be invisible—hell, she was counting on the fact that she was invisible—but it still seemed damn rude to walk across the stage while the Queen was talking.
“We are gathered this evening for an unprecedented event,” the queen said. “For the first time in our history, the Sia Mara have called for a Great Council outside of our usual cycle. For many of us, this moment comes only after long deliberation, much thought, and grievous doubt.”
She folded her hands in front of her and smiled out upon the audience. Fen was struck by how peaceful she looked. Fen had never seen a saint or the Dalai Lama, but they couldn’t look more serene than the queen of Syl Var did at this moment. “Now, however, it is the time to set aside our indecision. We welcome the representatives of our fellow cities to our environs and look forward to working with them as we strive for peaceful solutions in this, the 47th Great Council since the Cataclysm.”
She gestured with an open hand to the woman who stood in the red circle of light.
The woman, wearing a sleeveless, shimmering blue gown that Fen would have died to be able to carry off, pressed her hands together in front of her and gave a small bow. Turning her head up to face the light, she opened her hands and said, as if ecstatic, “I am Riana of the House of Maraine in the city of Ys Ker. I declare myself the Voice of my city.”
The light flashed, white, red, white, red, white, red.
“I agree to be bound by the will of the Great Council and to bind my city to the Council’s will. Should I fail in my binding, I accept the consequences, knowing that my life is the least of the penalties due.” Her neck fell farther back and she arched her spine, reaching up into the light.
Fen shivered, but the audience loved it, screaming and applauding and making the room loud beyond bearing, as the light stopped flashing, staying white.
Fen began tip-toeing across the dais to the purple light as the woman in the orange circle began speaking. Her clothes were more dramatic, brighter, than the first woman’s but Fen wasn’t impressed. It was like she’d tried to build dress clothes out of a patchwork quilt.
Orange, white, orange, white, the light cycled steadily as the woman said, her voice equally steady, “I am Dineth of the house of Supriyar in the city of Ku Mari. I declare myself the Voice of my city.” She sounded calmer, more matter-of-fact than the first woman, as she repeated the rest of the oath.
Are you there? Kaio asked, but before Fen could touch her crystal, he added hastily, No, don’t answer. My bug is private—no one can overhear what I say to you, but your crystal is not. But you must get to the purple circle before Baldric of Val Kyr finishes speaking.
And then what? Fen wondered uneasily.
Each of the other representatives spoke in turn, saying the same words, using their own names.
Cyntha Del Mar’s voice was smooth and elegant and gorgeously warm, like buttery velvet. Figures, Fen thought gloomily, as she reached the purple circle. She must sound like a dog’s squeak toy in comparison. She raised her hand to touch her crystal and tell Kaio she was in place then let it drop again. He didn’t want anyone to overhear, so okay, radio silence on her part.
Baldric of Val Kyr began swearing his vow.
As soon as he finishes speaking, drop your invisibility, Kaio ordered.
Oh, damn, Fen thought. Was this some stupid, crazy, lese-majeste thing where you could only accuse a council member of a crime at the moment of their induction to the job?
You will say exactly what I tell you to say. I’ll say a sentence and you’ll repeat the words after me, Kaio’s voice continued relentlessly on.
Fen wanted to scream. He was insane. Absolutely fucking insane if he thought she was going to talk in front of all these people.
Like hell.
Not going to happen.
But…
Luke might be dead. The man next to her was responsible. And he was willing to kill millions of people. If saying a few words in front of a crowd could stop him, surely she could do that?
Her knees felt wobbly again. There were so many people. So many people.
“… knowing that my life is the least of the penalties due,” the Val Kyr finished briskly, sounding as if he wanted to be done with the whole thing as quickly as possible. His light flashed and changed to a solid white. The audience burst into applause, cheering and celebrating.
Now, Kaio said.
Yeah, yeah, Fen thought, her mouth dry as dust. Audience is all set to get the party started. Wish I could say sorry ‘bout this.
“Make me visible,” she told her protection pattern.
She saw it happen in the audience’s reactions, the moments that they noticed, one person then the next, the stir as people exclaimed and others pushed and one after another, they stopped applauding and cheering and fell silent.
It took those on the stage who were looking out longer to realize what had happened, long enough for Kaio to start talking and Fen to follow suit.
“I am Felicia Elizabeth of the House of Naylor from the city of…” Fen said as Kaio’s voice whispered inside her head. And then she faltered, her words stopping.
Oh, hell. What was he saying?
Say it. From the city of Wai Pa, he repeated patiently.
That beam of purple light was going to fry her brains out, wasn’t it? She couldn’t lie to the magic.
But she swallowed hard and said it anyway. “…from the city of Wai Pa.”
And then several things happened almost simultaneously.
The audience went crazy.
Baldric of Val Kyr roared with fury and started toward her.
Kaio leaped lightly onto the stage, interposing himself between them.
Her crystal, seated at her neck, wrapped in copper, burned with a sudden, sharp, ferocious heat.
And her mother appeared before her.
Surprises
All the sound, all the chaos, all the motion, fell away from Fen. She only had eyes for her mother.
“Oh, my darling girl,” her mother said. “I hope you never see this message, but if you do, it’s because this is the third time you’ve said or heard the name of my lost home, Wai Pa.”
It was some sort of hologram, Fen realized, projected in front of her, three-dimensional and so real. “I fear this must mean you have been captured by the Val Kyr. We’ve been running from them for your whole life.”
She must have been already sick when she made the recording. She looked tired and her eyes had the weird yellowish cast they’d taken on when her liver started to go. But it was before the very end, obviously, because she was making sense when she talked.
Not that Fen would have thought so back then.
“I hoped ignorance would keep you safe. If I was wrong, I am so sorry.” Her mother’s image leaned forward, speaking urgently, “Know this: do not trust the Val Kyr…”
Her lips kept moving but Fen could no longer hear what she was saying. The uproar had grown too loud. She glanced around, wanting to tell people to shut the fuck up. That was her mom talking. Her mom’s voice they were drowning out with their…
Riot?
Uh-oh.
The stage must have some kind of sound system. Nothing as obvious as microphones and speakers, but a
way for the queen to speak softly and yet be heard throughout the atrium, for the Voices’ oaths to resound three stories up.
Everyone in the room had heard what her mother said. The unmentionable city, named. The secret nightmare, exposed. The words were a lit match thrown on the tinder of the Sia Marans’ fear, stress and worry, with gasoline thrown on the flames when she mentioned the Val Kyr.
Screaming arguments and shoving matches were breaking out everywhere. Fists and feet were flying in at least two places, maybe more, heads snapping back, bodies falling. On the second-floor balcony, a man was half over the railing, dangling precariously.
In the center of the stage, the queen had raised her hands, as if intending to call for calm, but she seemed unable to find the words she needed. Her mouth was open, her eyes wide with dismay. Fen guessed she’d never seen a mosh pit before.
Meanwhile, Kaio and Baldric were dancing.
No, not dancing. Fighting with the stylized grace of a martial-arts movie.
Baldric had lost his robe somehow. Magic, probably. And Kaio looked to be at a clear disadvantage, out-massed, out-reached, and still fully dressed in clothes that weren’t designed for shit like the mid-air flip he’d just done.
“Eep.” Fen swallowed hard. Holy crap, this sucked. She was never getting up on a stage in front of people again. Never, ever, ever. She’d always hated the idea. Public speaking was nightmare central. This proved it.
She glanced back at her mother’s image. Her mom still spoke, unheard words pouring out of her mouth, her expression filled with sorrow. Heartbroken.
Fen’s mouth set as a surge of stubborn annoyance rose within her. She was scared. The violence was creeping closer to the stage, with men shoving one another, people splashing into the water, yelling and screaming. But damn it, she wanted to know what her mother was telling her. “What can I do, Elfie?”
“Finish the ceremony,” Elfie responded without hesitation. “Say the final words and complete the binding.”
“What are the words?”
Elfie recited them, one sentence at a time, and Fen spoke after her. “I declare myself the Voice of my city. I agree to be bound by the will of the Great Council and to bind my city to the Council’s will.”
Guess that didn’t matter too much, since her city was already gone. Not like the magic could do more damage if she screwed up. The purple lights kept flashing.
“Should I fail in my binding, I accept the consequences, knowing that my life is the least of the penalties due.” The light turned white and she felt a jolt, a shock, as if something settled over her.
The Voices were stepping from their circles, hurrying to the queen, heads bending together in discussion. Kaio was maybe not winning exactly, but he definitely had agility on his side. Fen let her gaze slide to the crowd.
Evander was at the front of the dais, a drink in either hand, his mouth open, his eyes wide, Zach next to him. And Malik—fucking Malik—was three steps behind them, whirling his way through the audience, tossing people aside with the priceless disdain of Jackie Chan faced with a nameless army.
“No way,” Fen snapped. She tightened her fist.
Direct attention.
Specific communication.
Concentrated will.
That was all it took.
“Bind,” she ordered, picturing Malik’s clothing transforming into a straightjacket. “Bind,” she roared, throwing open her fingers, when it did not immediately obey.
She’d forgotten about the sound system.
Oops.
God, magic listened really well, she thought, as around the atrium, person after person lost their balance and toppled over when their glamorous robes transformed into industrial-strength straitjackets.
Not everyone fell, of course, and not every robe transformed. It was interesting, in fact, to see the people who’d used nanomite-infused material to create their robes and those who hadn’t. Also interesting to admire the speed with which people changed back.
Maybe it wasn’t too surprising that some of the angriest fighters stayed trapped.
Evander’s clothes didn’t transform at all. He hopped up onto the dais and bowed to her, proffering one hand. “Your drink, milady.”
Fen took a sip. Her face squished up involuntarily. Yow, that was horrible. But she grinned at Evander. “Thanks.”
He bowed, a sweeping gesture that looked awkward on his gawky teenage body, and as he straightened back up, his expression was awed. “Nobody’s gonna believe this,” he said, as if confiding in her. “I’m gonna say I was here and they’re all gonna call me a liar.”
“We need a cell phone,” Fen suggested. “We could take a selfie.”
His eyebrows raised and he cocked his head to one side. “A what? And a what?”
“The interpretation pattern cannot translate those words,” Elfie whispered.
Fen shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
She looked at the audience. Their faces read of horror, shock, and fury.
Shit.
She turned her head. In the brief moment that she had been distracted by Evander, the Val Kyr had given up on getting through Kaio to her and had found an easier target. With one arm wrapped around the queen, a knife at her throat, he was snarling at the Voices.
“Back off,” he shouted. “Back off. She dies unless you obey.”
Most of the Voices were retreating hurriedly, looking distressed and upset, but Cyntha Del Mar stood where she was.
In a steady voice, she said, “Baldric, think on this. Reflect. The binding has been spoken.”
“I stepped out of the light!”
She spread her hands. “We all felt the mantle fall. The responsibility is within us now. The art of the ceremony, our colors becoming one, is not the binding. The oath is what matters and the ceremony was completed. You cannot deny that you are now bound to the Great Council and Val Kyr with you.”
It might have worked. There was a moment when he looked as if he was listening. But then she added, voice soothing, a mother comforting a child, “Cease this fear-driven rage.”
He yanked the queen’s hair, pulling her head back and pressing the knife harder against her throat. “My men. To me, now. We’ll see how the Great Council threatens when the Queen of Syl Var resides in Val Kyr.”
Fen’s mouth dropped open. She would have guessed the mouths of half the room did the same but she didn’t bother to look. She glanced at Kaio instead. He was on the balls of his feet, his hands poised to attack, his face so calm he might have been admiring a painting in an art museum.
She stuffed her drink back into Evander’s fingers and lifted her hand to her crystal. Going invisible now. Wait for a go.
Man, she’d gone crazy. Seriously, not just her normal level of crazy, but a super-enhanced-mega-level of crazy.
“Make me invisible,” she muttered to her protection pattern. She was watching, her head down, so she saw it happen. Evander did, too, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open before it snapped shut again. He clenched his fists and tightened his shoulders.
Kaio didn’t even look in her direction. Do not risk yourself, Felicia. Your life is precious. The thought was strong, firm, without even a hint of question.
Fen, already slipping forward on silent feet, didn’t pause, but the words hit her somewhere deep inside and her eyes stung. Her life hadn’t been precious to anyone else for a very long time. Theresa liked her, sure, but her sister Jenny’s kids would always come first. Kaio was telling her not to take a chance to save his grandma’s life. His nice grandma, who spoiled him, and was kind to strange girls at parties.
Well, fuck that.
Fen reached the queen as Cyntha waved a hand toward the audience, her eyes still on Baldric, said, “Men of Val Kyr, come forward. You must speak reason to your leader.”
From this close, Fen could see the sweat beading down Baldric’s temples and smell his fury. But she ignored him, gently slipping her fingers around the hand of the queen.
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The queen didn’t noticeably react. Her face stayed serene, like that of her daughter and grandson, but her hand tightened around Fen’s.
Fen really wished Gaelith had given her an instruction book with her tattoos. What could her ivy do? She knew that if she could communicate her need the nanomites would do their best for her, but they had limits she didn’t understand.
She took a silent breath and imagined her ivy as armor, invulnerable, blade-proof, and capable of spreading to cover the queen as well as her. Her leg itched ferociously and so did her shoulder.
Fen closed her free hand around her crystal. She didn’t know what this would do—maybe give every crystal receiver in Syl Var the expected headache?—but hell, she might need the help. Wrapping her fingers tightly around the blue rock, she thought, Defend. Go!
Then she screamed as her body burst into flame.
She fell to her knees. Her back felt like it was ripping apart, the flesh splitting open and searing closed, the fabric of her tunic and robe sizzling into crumbling ash as fire poured out of her, leaping forth and soaring into the sky.
Oh, shit, it hurt.
She dropped farther forward onto her hands, still screaming, the pain so intense that it tore at her throat, stole her breath.
In the dimness of her agony, she could hear Baldric’s voice. “No, no,” he spluttered, falling back and away from her, and then he screamed, too.
His scream was louder than hers.
She turned her head, trying to see through the torment. Something beat at him, ferociously diving, attacking his face and eyes, flames streaming from its tail.
A bird.
Her bird, her phoenix, created from ink and nanomites and now made of pure fire.
The queen crouched next to her, saying words that Fen couldn’t hear. Movement, people, noise, color, chaos.
It hurt.
Oh, God, she hurt.
Fen’s Mother Speaks
Oh, God, what a weird dream. Fen burrowed deeper into the covers, eyes still closed. She was not getting up. Ten more minutes, she needed ten more minutes.
But a niggling feeling of uncertainty poked at her. Her alarm wasn’t playing, but she could hear water flowing, and her bed was really comfortable, softer than it ought to be. She took a deep breath. The sheets smelled spicy, almost like cinnamon.