Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen

by Aaron Lee Yeager

  “Oh, most definitely,” Athel said. Athel perked up and began waving. “By the way, hi Stone Council, sorry your Navy guys all lost. Don’t be mad at the Queen, that was me attacking your facility, she had nothing to do with it, so don’t accuse her of violating neutrality or anything.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that, daughter,” the Queen responded curtly. “The Stone Council has decreed that I am to be removed from my throne. I am doubtful that treaty violations can worsen the situation beyond that.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Athel said, scratching the back of her head.

  With a wave of her hand, Queen Forsythia silently requested privacy, and the members of the court respectfully obliged, filing off into the forest.

  “So it was you then, that turned the tide.”

  “I had a lot of help,” Athel admitted. “It was like that summer Solanum and I learned how to swim.”

  The image of Athel turned to one side for a moment, as if she were talking to someone. “Oh, okay. Not to be dramatic, but apparently we only have a few minutes before the connection explodes...” Athel turned her head to the side again. “Explodes, really? Wow.”

  “Then I will begin with the highest priority and say that I am pleased to see you alive and well,” the Queen allowed the barest note of warmth to creep into her voice.

  “You too,” Athel said. “I wasn’t sure we could get there in time.”

  “And I am most happy to see that you took Alder for your husband,” Queen Hazel praised.

  “How did you know that?” Athel gasped, mortified.

  Queen Hazel gave a tired smile. “My dear, I can see it plainly on your face. You are glowing.”

  Athel could feel herself blushing and turned away in embarrassment. “I hate the way you always just know things like that.”

  “Oh, but why be so shy about it? You love him, don’t you?”

  “I married him didn’t I?” Athel retorted. “It’s just...embarrassing to admit, that’s all.”

  “There is nothing to be embarrassed about,” the Queen reassured her. “I knew right away that you two would make a perfect match. I selected him from amongst hundreds of candidates. Why not simply admit that I chose the perfect match for you?”

  “I’d rather die,” Athel mouthed silently.

  “What was that? Your message got a little quiet there.”

  “Nothing,” Athel covered.

  “Anyway, it made it easier that you and I have the same taste in men.”

  “Mom, yuck.” Athel complained, sticking out her tongue.

  Hazel smiled weakly. “For example, do you not recall your cousin’s birthday? The one where that poet came in from Mertrion...”

  “Stop it,” Athel insisted.

  “And after the performance the guards caught you sneaking into his dressing room because you wanted to...”

  “Seriously, I will end this message,” Athel yelled, covering her pointed ears.

  The Queen sat back. “Very well, then. How is Deutzia holding under the strain? You must be low on Hai’i Milia Carminie by now.”

  “She’s fine,” Athel dodged.

  The Queen raised an eyebrow. “Now that you are married, your Ma’iltri’ia will need to be planted in Wysterian soil. I am concerned about her health.”

  “No, you are trying to trick me into coming home,” Athel accused. “But right now, there are larger concerns. If we don’t do something there won’t be a home to plant her in.”

  “I know,” the Queen said, looking down. Most of the southern forest was burned to the ground, and The Royal Tree is near death. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t just command you to go find some remote place and plant her there. Start a new forest. At least then I know that something green will live on.”

  “Well, what good would that do? You know I don’t follow orders,” Athel kidded.

  “I suppose not,” the Queen admitted.

  “Anyway, stop being so negative,” Athel went on. “I tell you what; first, we'll win this war and then we can argue about where to plant Deutzia.”

  The Queen sat up and forced a smile. “Agreed.”

  * * *

  As Athel stood before the improvised stream the image of her mother slowly faded away.

  “Thanks Odger,” Athel said, slapping him on the back.

  “Who are you?” Odger asked, confused.

  “So, do you want to like, I dunno, dismantle this thing before it explodes or something?”

  “Explode?” Odger asked, looking confused. “What’s gonna explode?”

  “I think I'll just take a walk,” Athel said, excusing herself.

  Athel walked briskly through the dark stone corridors until finally she came out into open air again. The Dreadnaught and the Quarranna were moored side-by-side at the docking platform of the communication tower they had found in the middle of the sea. They would need to leave very soon, or risk being caught by whatever very angry and very lethal Stonemasters were surely on their way to retake the bastille.

  Athel walked over the gangplank onto the Dreadnaught where Deutzia sat in her oversized pot, her tall branches swaying in the night air. Athel placed her hand on Deutzia and pulled out her pouch of Hai’i Milia Carminie. It was empty now, and there was only one place in all of Aetria where she could get more.

  “The air is so thin here. It is very draining, but I can manage,” Deutzia stated. That was very much like her now. She wouldn’t complain, merely state her condition. It was something she was picking up from Alder.

  “I'll make it up to you,” Athel promised. Deutzia wrapped a long branch around her and the two embraced warmly for a moment.

  The implications of so much destruction weighed heavily on Athel’s mind. The southern forest could easily be regrown, but the young trees would not have the same voices as the ones they replaced; they would not know the stories that the old ones knew. A great many of their most talented Treesingers had passed on, their spirits becoming one with Milia once again. Many of them Athel had known personally. They had trained together. Somehow it didn’t seem real yet. A part of her felt like if she was to return home, everything would still be as she remembered it. Yet, another part of her she knew they could never get back what they had lost, and the home she grew up in no longer existed.

  She tried to remind herself that it could have been much worse. In fact, by all accounts, it should have been much worse. They had been fortunate in many ways, and yet knowing that did little to lessen the sting. Athel felt like hiding. She knew it was childish, but it was how she dealt with things she felt she could not handle. There were so many things far more important, things that could not wait, things that needed her immediate attention, but all she could think about was curling up for a few hours with one of her books.

  “I can last a little longer out here, but you'd better make it up to me when this is over,” Deustzia warned. “And not just some mineral water either, I expect to be pampered.”

  “Okay, okay,” Athel agreed.

  “I’m talking about the highest quality potting soil, imported water, and some real entertainment. I’m bored just watching you and your crew mates squabble all the time. I want jugglers.”

  “Jugglers?” Athel balked. “Come on; be reasonable, where am I going to get...”

  “JUGGLERS!” Deutzia insisted.

  “All right, all right, you win,” Athel chuckled, holding her hands up as she walked away. “I'll find some jugglers.”

  Athel made her way over to her quarters. It wasn’t as extensive as her collection at home, but she had managed to gather together quite a few adventure novels here on the ship. Every time they made port she made sure to pick up the new releases.

  When she opened the door she was surprised to find Alder sitting on their bed reading one of her books.

  He looks so cute sitting there.

  Bunni Bubbles was in the corner, coloring on a piece of paper and humming sweetly to herself. Alder scribbled in his notebook, taking met
iculous notes as he read.

  “Hey Aldi,” Athel greeted him with a light kiss on the cheek. “You should be asleep. You must be exhausted after scrubbing down a whole ship like that.”

  “My apologies, my Lady,” Alder said. “I've been so busy lately, I've neglected my studies.”

  “Studies,” Athel repeated distastefully, sticking her tongue out. “Reading must be done for fun or not at all.”

  “If it is important to you, then it is also important to me,” Alder explained with a smile. “It is essential that a house-husband share his matron’s interests.”

  “I drew a pony!” Bunni Bubbles announced happily as she jumped up on Athel’s shoulder and shoved the paper in her face.

  “Yes, that is very nice,” Alder praised as he took the picture and stuck it to the wall along with the others.

  Athel watched Alder curiously as he patted the small golem on the head. “You know, Aldi, I’d be happy to get you a larger golem. Maybe one that could help you out with your chores.”

  Bunni squeaked with fright and hid herself underneath the blankets. “The scary lady is gonna throw me away!” she shrieked.

  Alder patted the trembling doll on the head. “Do not worry, Bunni, no one is going to throw you away,” he soothed.

  Bunni poked out her head and stuck out her tiny tongue at Athel. “I don’t like her.”

  Athel rolled her eyes and tipped up the book Alder was studying so that she could see the cover.

  “Oh, wow, you are on book nine already?” Athel praised. “You are a really fast reader.”

  “Thank you,” Alder nodded. “When I was training to be a house-husband, Madame Bursage insisted that I memorize all the classics of Wysterian literature.”

  “Really? In the old tongue?” Athel whistled, sitting down next to him.

  “Yes, it was quite challenging. I had to translate each line, one at a time.”

  Athel whistled and snuggled in next to him. “Impressive. Boring, but impressive.”

  Alder nodded. “Compared to that, these books are easy. They're basically a stone’s throw away from being a coloring book.”

  Athel sat up, her mouth open in offense. “What do you mean by that?”

  Alder turned, his face growing concerned. “I meant no disrespect, I was merely...”

  “Yeah, sure you were,” Athel chided, slugging him in the shoulder. Athel scooted away from him and grabbed a book for herself off of the shelf.

  “Alder, what is this?” she asked, becoming angry.

  Alder looked up innocently as she flipped the book over, revealing several red markings on the page.

  “Oh, the author misspelled a few words, so I corrected them,” Alder explained.

  “Alder, this is a first edition hardback. This is a collector’s edition!”

  “I didn’t...”

  “Look!” Athel insisted, flipping the pages. “I even went to a book signing and had him sign the front cover...Ahhhh!”

  Athel screamed and slammed the book down on the bed, revealing several red corrective markings on the author’s signature.

  “Why did you mark up his signature?” Athel demanded.

  Alder blinked. “Because it was wrong. Honestly, I don’t know how he became a professional author with such lousy penmanship. Don’t they teach calligraphy on his island?”

  The sounding bell on the Dreadnaught rang out.

  Athel was so angry all she could do was point and say, “You...are...grounded.”

  “Grounded?”

  “Yes, you have to stay here in our room for the rest of the day, and you are not allowed to leave or touch anything, especially my books.”

  “But I...”

  “That’s an order from your Matron!” Athel growled as she stomped away.

  Bunni Bubbles pointed her tiny finger at Alder. “Ha ha, you got in trouble!” she taunted.

  Captain Evere rang the sounding bell one more time as the crew of the Dreadnaught gathered together.

  “We're missing quite a few people,” Mina observed, her ears searching around as she looked.

  “Just Odger and Privet,” Athel surmised. “Alder is grounded.”

  “Grounded?” Captain Evere asked.

  There was a deep thud from within the black tower.

  “Was that an explosion?” Mina wondered, her tail sticking straight out.

  Athel laughed nervously. “I think Odger is going to be busy for a while; we'd better start without him.”

  “Fair enough,” Captain Evere gave Athel a suspicious glance. “Mina and I have finished hard-rigging the Quaranna to sail south from here without a crew, and Odger set her core to leave the biggest, fattest wake she can for some fool to track while we slip away.”

  “I had Alder scrub down all the surfaces inside the Quaranna,” Athel reported. “We don’t want them finding anything that could be traced back to us.”

  “Like what?” Mina asked, scratching behind her ear.

  “Like Mesdan fur, for example,” Dr. Griffin offered, brushing a stray hair off of his shoulder.

  “Just what is that supposed to mean?” Mina defended, placing her hands on her hips.

  “It means you shed like a bag of cats, woman,” Captain Evere replied.

  “You guys are so racist! You think your people don’t leave stuff behind? You should see the shower after this hairy guy uses it.” Mina retorted, pointing to Captain Evere.

  Dr. Griffin raised his knobby hand.

  “We've been here nearly twenty-four hours, we should leave as soon as possible,” he cautioned as he checked his watch. “We want to be at least two days ahead of any trackers to give our wake time to fade.”

  Mina absentmindedly took out a bottle and placed a couple dabs of perfume on her neck.

  “...we don’t want them picking up our scent,” Dr. Griffin grumbled under his breath.

  “What was that?” Mina asked.

  “Nothin’.”

  “We've done a lot of sketchy things over the years,” Ryin snorted, “but never something this big. Whoever comes here is going to be wicked angry, and I’d rather not give them a chance to express their feelings, if you catch my drift.”

  “Let’s just pray they don’t catch our drift,” Captain Evere said. “We'll need a good strong current, but no bumps, can you handle that, Gerstun?”

  Margaret looked up from her notebook and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Um, I think so.”

  Captain Evere and Mina looked at each other apprehensively.

  “So, we need to plan our next move, then,” Captain Evere opined.

  “Already taken care of,” Athel cackled happily as she pulled out some charts. “My mother and I already concurred.”

  “When did you do that?” Ryin asked,

  “When I spoke to her a few minutes ago,” Athel explained, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth while she pulled out a piece of chalk and began making marks.

  “You discussed sensitive war plans over a monitored transmission?” Captain Evere coughed. “Are you daft, lass?”

  “Don’t worry, it was all in code,” Athel reassured him. “It’s a variant of the syllabic tests I took when I was younger...”

  “You mean like princess training?’” Ryin scoffed.

  Athel looked up. “Yes, Colenat, ‘princess training,’ like where we learn to sing to forest creatures and practice sticking our little fingers out when we drink tea.”

  “Do princesses really do that?” Ryin asked before Mina smacked him on the back of the head.

  “Anyway,” Athel continued. “It’s really quite simple. You have a normal conversation, and just keep an ear out for the 21st, 292nd and 366th syllables to find the key phrases you want to get across to each other.”

  “Why those numbers?” Dr. Griffin asked, digging his little finger into his hairy ear.

  “Because those were the days of the year when I passed my syllabic tests, of course,” Athel said, as if it were the most obvious th
ing in the world.

  “Wow, you and your mom really do think alike,” Margaret observed as she took notes.

  “I knew that’s exactly what she was doing once I saw her wave her hand like that. She never does that except at the start of a test.”

  Mina leaned in. “But, sweetie, surely they'll have their code-breakers go over the...”

  “That’s just the first layer,” Athel revealed as she drew. “The second layer is contextual. Facts that no outsider could know. For instance, my sister and I learned how to swim on a family trip to Artice, which is where we are going next. Everyone else will meet up with us there.”

  “Everyone else?” Dr. Griffin inquired, wiping his finger on his uniform.

  Athel nodded. “My cousin’s birthday takes place on the last day of this month, which is when they will meet us there.”

  “Meet who?” Dr. Griffin persisted, scratching his elbow.

  Athel stood up and showed the charts to everyone. “And the key phrase to reveal our target,” Athel beamed, “is Hai’i Milia Carminie. The golden amber that sustains Nallorn trees.”

  Everyone gathered around and looked at the charts.

  “I don’t get it,” Ryin complained. Athel has marked up an island south of Kirdish, but what is there?”

  “Payday,” Captain Evere grinned from ear to ear.

  It was then that Privet ran up, looking as if he had just sprinted the entire length of the tower.

  “I have good news...huge news,” he stated in between gulps of air. “I've been down with the tower guards. The serum we gave them finally took effect.”

  “What did they tell you, lad?” Captain Evere asked, tipping his hat.

  “Everything,” Privet gasped, “but we have to move quickly. This place isn’t just a communication artery, it’s a relay station for airship keystones.” Privet pointed to the electrified sphere above them at the top of the tower.

  “What do you mean?” Athel asked, looking up.

  “I mean this place keeps airships in the air,” Privet revealed.

  “No, the stone-core in each ship keeps them afloat. At least, that is what I was taught,” Mina retorted.

  Privet shook his head. “That is what everyone thinks. But apparently the keystones just receive the magical energy that places like these send out. This place is far more important than we ever imagined, it covers the black ocean, the indigo sea, and the entire west sea.”