I guess it’s because I had nowhere else to go.
Mandi rolled onto her back and listlessly lifted her paw up to block the sun from her eyes. Her body had almost completely healed itself, but she did not feel any better. She would lie for days, sometimes in the same spot without moving, expect for the occasional nudge as Molly put a new bib on her or something like that.
Why didn’t my spell work on him?
As Molly ran off to pick out a new dress to wear, Mandi’s mind kept going back to Thesda. Her spell brought out a person’s inner feelings, their true self. Compassion, love, selflessness. They were all fabrications. Lies people tell themselves to make themselves look better.
The truth is that people were incapable of feeling anything like that. At least, that is what Mandi believed. And yet, despite all the evidence, despite a lifetime worth of compiled facts, when she had cast her spell on Alder, he had displayed pure, unconditional love towards Athel.
Molly came back and began talking about the pretty pink dress she had brought for magic kitty to wear. Mandi hung listlessly as Molly shoved and bent her limbs into the dress.
It had completely contradicted everything Mandi believed in. She tried so hard to dismiss it, reason it away, blame it on something, anything. She spent days coming up with grandiose explanations to avoid even coming close to the possibility that she had been wrong about people.
Molly picked up a necklace made of yarn and some cheap beads and placed it around Mandi’s neck.
Because, if she was wrong about people, then she was wrong about herself and her father as well. And that is something she could never accept.
“I made this for you, magic kitty,” Molly said happily as she brought up a hand mirror and tried to angle it so that Mandi could admire herself.
There was a thud at the front door, which made Molly and Mandi jump. The heavy wood swung open and Molly’s father staggered into the house. The smell of ale and tobacco was instantly overwhelming.
Molly stood up, an excited greeting on her lips, but the bedroom door slammed shut hard before she could say anything. Molly sank back down to the floor, her eyes distant. Without thinking she grabbed Mandi and pulled her in close, hugging her so tightly that Mandi got a little short of breath for it.
“I’m hungry,” Molly stated sadly. Mandi rolled her eyes in frustration. There wasn’t an edible scrap of food anywhere in the house. Motivated by her own hunger, and so she wouldn’t have to hear any more complaining, Mandi reluctantly rolled up onto her four feet and made her way to the still-open front door, her tail dragging limply behind her.
Mandi stopped at the doorway and looked back. Molly just stared at her stupidly. Mandi rolled her eyes again and flicked her head a couple of times, indicating that Molly should follow her.
Molly’s eyes grew wide and she stood up, nearly jumping out of her skin as she and Mandi went outside for what Molly called a ‘superadventurous.’
Great beams of sunlight fell down between dispersing storm clouds, illuminating the enormous floating shipyards of Madaringa. Like a giant hedgemaze of wood, they hung over the island famous for being the best shipbuilders in the League. And rightly so, since they could build an airship of any size in a tenth of the time anyone else could.
Mandi and Molly took a gondola, Molly’s new favorite thing in the world. The young girl pressed her face against the glass and gushed endlessly as they slowly rose above the stone walls of the city up to the shipyards.
Exiting the gondola, the pair made their way towards the best bratwurst stand in the whole world. With so many ships coming and going, Madaringa was a hub for commerce and trade, probably the most wealthy island in the Blue Sea.
The flags of a dozen Island Nations flapped excitedly in the breeze as they passed stand after stand, selling foods from many exotic places. The Cocimbas juice stand had a white sign written in common, indicating that it would not serve people from Diaden. The Nigowit stand would not sell curry to anyone from Mertrion or Nayzer. And the sweet cream cart from Maliao had a list so long Mandi wondered who they would sell to.
Even in a cosmopolitan place like this, the old feuds lived strong.
Molly paused for a moment and compelled Mandi to do the same. Mandi yawned and lazily licked the back of her paw while Molly jumped up and down excitedly. Four priests were preparing a dock for construction, positioning themselves at the cardinal locations. All of the materials had been loaded into the egg-shaped bay, the handful of workers waiting patiently for the spell to enclose them. The priest’s robes shifted from red to green to blue to orange, then back again, fast and faster as their strange chanting reached a crescendo. Finally, the colors peeled away from their robes, like wet paint smeared across a canvas, and swirled together, forming a bubble around the dock and the workers.
Inside the bubble, everything became a blur as time now flowed faster inside than it did outside. Molly clapped her hands, delighting in watching the men and women zip around inside the bubble, building the ship. Already the keel had been laid down, and the ribs were being attached. A clipper ship, by the looks of it. Occasionally one blur would coalesce for a moment when one of the workers lay down to sleep for what to them was a few hours, then got up, ate some food, and zipped back to work.
There were always plenty of jobs available on Madaringa, and it was good pay, as long as you were willing to have your lifespan cut in half. Their spell complete, the Timebenders walked over to the dock supervisor and received their pay.
While Molly went on and on about the magic ship and the enchanted places she imagined it would go, Mandi got up and walked out into the crowds of moving people. From her diminutive perspective, it was like a quickly shifting forest of legs, but she slipped through without incident, disappearing for a few moments, then returning back again, carrying a leather wallet in her feline mouth.
Mandi sat down and placed the wallet at Molly’s feet.
“Oh, kitty, you found a wallet,” Molly praised.
Yeah, ‘found.’
Molly picked up the wallet and removed some money from it, weaving a story about giants and dragons as they walked over to the bratwurst stand. The owner greeted them warmly in his native tongue, a kind of clicking and popping language, then asked them in common if they wanted the usual.
Their food acquired, Molly and Mandi sat down on a stack of crates and ate together. As Mandi absentmindedly took in the nourishment to silence her protesting stomach, she again thought back on Thesda.
Why didn’t my spell work on him?
Chapter Fifteen
“So what do you think?” Margaret beamed, as she hovered over Athel, so close she was nearly breathing down her neck.
“What do I think?” Athel asked, flipping a page. “You've lived with real Wysterians all this time, and you still got it wrong. Please don’t tell me you actually submitted this junk to your university.”
“Which part is wrong?” Margaret said, looking down at her notebook.
“All of it,” Athel said. “I can’t find a single thing you got right. Look at this: ‘In an attempt to not offend their trees by reminding them of their lack of mobility, Wysterians are forbidden to dance.’”
“What’s wrong with that?” Margaret asked stupidly.
“Do you know how many formal dances I've had to memorize over the years?”
Margaret chewed her lip. “But, I've never seen you dance.”
“Just because you've never...you know what? Just sit down and watch.”
Athel stood up and seemed to become another person. Her face was serene and demure. She bowed regally and lifted up one arm, as if holding the hem of a ballgown. Placing her other hand forward, as if on the hip of her dance partner, she began blissfully floating around the room to unheard music. Her movements were soothing, dream-like, with graceful sweeping gestures as she stylishly glided about the room in a flawless figure eight pattern. For a moment she seemed like the epitome of elegance and poise.
Margaret grabb
ed her notebook and pulled it close and began to write. “A Wysterian waltz involves dancing with an invisible partner.”
They were both interrupted by the arrival of Ryin, who ran in out of breath.
“Something is wrong with Deutzia.”
Athel ran up onto the deck as fast as she could. The air was much colder than it had been as they reached more northern climes. Captain Evere and Mina were standing over Alder, who was carefully watering and fertilizing Deutzia’s oversized pot. Bunni sat on Alder’s shoulder, her little head tilted to one side, looking very confused.
Deutzia herself looked terrible. She was slumped over, her branches flopped down on the deck, and her colors were muted.
“How are you doing Deuts?” Athel asked in concern as she walked up.
Deutzia groaned. “I’m bloated, my roots are sore, and I can’t feel my leaves, how do you think I’m doing?”
Alder stood up, barely able to contain his excitement. “It’s wonderful, my Lady. Deutzia is pregnant.”
Athel’s mouth opened and her eyes froze in place.
“Pregnant?” Ryin asked, scratching his head.
Mina’s ears shot up in surprise, then she looked away, conflicted.
Captain Evere shrugged and slapped Alder on his bony shoulder. “Um, congratulations, lad, I guess.”
“Yay, I’m gonna’ have a little sister!” Bunni exclaimed, jumping up and down on Alder’s shoulder. “We can play dress-up together!”
Alder smiled and held up his hands. “I agree Captain Evere, it is wonderful, but I cannot accept thanks, I really had nothing to do with it.”
“How could you not? You are the husband,” Mina asked in confusion.
Alder gave Athel a warm hug where she stood, frozen in place. She looked dazed, like she had just been punched in the face. Slowly, she forced herself to move and touched Deutzia’s trunk to confirm.
“Oh yes, she is very pregnant,” Athel affirmed. She looked down at Alder, happily hugging her waist. “How could you know before me?”
“When I came up to water her I could just sense it.”
Ryin absentmindedly kicked at one of Deutzia’s branch tips with his boot. “I dunno. A pregnant tree is just...weird.”
Mina looked up and got angry. “Stop being racist Colenat! This is a beautiful thing.”
“This is a sacred thing as well,” Alder boasted happily as he walked over to Deutzia and stroked one of her drooping branches. “It is highly unusual for a Matron to have her first daughter so young.”
“Yeah...lucky me,” Athel said, trying to hide her trepidation. “My mother was already a hundred and seventy before she had my sister...so yeah, this is...unexpected.”
“Wait, so you guys don’t...decide?” Captain Evere asked, trying to understand.
Alder shook his head. “The forest decides when a new daughter is to be born, and who it will be born to. It is something of a mystery, even to us.”
Athel placed her hands on her hips. “But...why Deutzia, and why now? I mean...there are plenty of women who have never even had a daughter...”
“He just said it was a mystery,” Margaret said, scribbling away frantically in her notebook.
“Yes, thank you Gerstun, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know why this happened,” Athel said petulantly as she folded her arms.
Alder thought for a moment. “Many Treesingers were lost during the invasion. If I had to venture a guess, I would say that the forest is trying to renew their numbers back into balance.”
“What’s all the commotion?” Dr. Griffin asked as he walked up, stains of jelly and mustard on his medical coat.
“Athel and Alder are expecting,” Mina gushed, trying to sound excited.
Dr. Griffin smiled with his yellow teeth and grabbed Athel’s hands. “Oh, congratulations, that’s wonderful,” he felicitated, shaking her hands vigorously. “You know, I thought you might be expecting but I didn’t want to say anything.”
“Thought?” Athel asked, pulling her hands away.
“Well, yeah, you were getting a little rounded in the belly and putting on some weight, and I just thought that...”
Dr. Griffin trailed off when he noticed Mina and Captain Evere waving their arms and shaking their heads as fast and hard as they could.
Athel snarled and drew her pistol, but Ryin and Captain Evere caught her arms before she could fire.
“What are you doing?” Athel struggled. “Let me go! I'll show him what a round belly looks like!”
“Um, I really should be going...” Dr. Griffin said as he backed away.
“Come back here, you coward! I'll put a seed inside your head and pop you like a balloon!”
Deutzia’s branches flopped about and she began swaying from side to side.
“Oh, that perfume, it’s making me feel sick, get it away,” Deutzia complained.
“What is she saying?” Captain Evere asked as he watched Deutzia sparkle and shimmer.
“She is saying that Mina’s perfume is making her feel nauseous,” Athel relayed.
Alder gently grabbed Mina’s arm and led her back, away from Deutzia. “I apologize, but pregnant trees get really sensitive to scents.”
Mina’s eyes grew large and distant. “It’s just not fair...” Mina depreciated. “I bathe daily, people complain about the smell, I wear expensive perfume, people complain about the smell. JUST WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE WANT ME TO DO?”
“Don’t be Mesdan,” Ryin snorted.
Deutzia shivered and gave off a sound somewhere between bending wood and a burp. From a knothole on her side, Deutzia spat out a thick blob of sap which struck Ryin right on the neck.
“Oh nasty!” Ryin spat, releasing Athel.
“Serves you right,” Athel judged, holstering her sidearm.
Ryin pawed at the sticky substance, pulling away long strands of syrupy fluid. “You are right Alder. This is very sacred, very solemn...I’m going to go burn my uniform now.”
“If I may, my Lady, this does change things,” Alder said pragmatically.
“This changes nothing,” Athel stated firmly.
“But, my Lady, Deutzia will need to be planted in Wysteria soil if she is to carry a daughter.”
“Eventually, yes,” Athel stressed. “For now, we still have to lead the attack on the Federal Reserve. They can’t do this without us. Deuts is a tough girl, she can hold out for a while, right?” Athel asked, patting Deutzia heartily on the trunk.
Deutzia belched.
Alder looked concernedly at Athel.
“Look, this quest comes from the Queen,” Athel deflected, holding up her palms. “I can’t refuse it.”
As Ryin slowly shuffled below deck, Margaret felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked up from her notebook to see Pops the janitor standing next to her, holding his mop.
“You're about to crash,” Pops warned. Margaret looked up and peered through the gap in the Dreadnaught’s sails. Before them was a large pirate vessel, growing larger and larger as they approached it.
Margaret scrambled up to her podium and threw her hands to one side. The Dreadnaught was hit by a powerful crosswind that veered her away, missing the floating pirate vessel by mere feet. Angry and startled pirates yelled profanities in foreign tongues as they slipped past. A couple empty bottles of rum were thrown at them for good measure.
As they righted the ship again, they were met with an amazing sight. Hundred of pirate ships, of all shapes and sizes, were gathering together at this place.
Athel had never seen such a diverse collection of sail designs before. Proas and sunfish, catboats and gunters, sloops and cutters, yawls and ketchs, schooners and brigantines, barquentines and even a few fully-rigged warships.
While some of them had been painted in highly contrasting reds and blacks to mark themselves as pirate vessels, many were little more than sailing ships fitted with a few extra guns and sporting a black flag. Most belied a very poor state of repair and maintenance. Their crews lounged about on the y
ardarms and rigging, filthy and drunk. A few ships currently had open brawls occurring on their decks, their captains doing little to discourage the behavior, and sometimes even joining in. The Dreadnaught was flying amidst a swarm of ships without pattern or theme.
The exception was the Egress Guild. Their little cluster of ships were clean and well-maintained. Athel could almost smell that ‘new ship’ smell just by looking at them. Gold leafing and marble statues decorated their sides and decks. Their sails were decorated with stunning murals of setting vistas painted directly onto the canvas. Even their guns were unusually ornamental, the barrels cast in the shape of dragon heads with open maws.
“Set her down right over there,” Captain Evere ordered, pointing at a floating platform at the center of the gathering fleet. The lighthouse situated on top of the platform spun about, sending out three beams of light in all directions. When viewed head on, it flashed green twice, then red once, which Evere explained was the old Guild signal for gatherings like this.
Not that there had ever been a gathering like this before in living memory. The thirteen greatest Guilds, all together under a single banner. The tension of old rivalries and old grudges made the air positively thick with aggression.
As the Dreadnaught slowed to a halt, Alder and Mina were sent aloft to bring in the sails.
“And look! Who is here to greet us?” Captain Evere bellowed happily.
Standing there on the platform was an ogre of a man, with muscular oversized arms and a mouthful of thick, chipped teeth. His belly was far more trim then it had been when Athel first met him.
“Hanner!” Captain Evere greeted as he hopped down onto the platform. “It’s good to see you, boy.”
“Good to see you too, Cap'n,” Hanner admitted, lifting Captain Evere aloft with a bear-hug. “I was bored outta’ my skull back on Thesda when I got your message.”
Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen Page 19