Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen

by Aaron Lee Yeager

Everyone groaned and shuffled away. “Will someone get her back in the brig?” Captain Evere pleaded.

  A couple of minutes later, after Dr. Griffin secured her bandages, Setsuna looked up and saw Privet staring at her accusingly.

  “So, that means that even if you really had put poison in my food...” he began.

  “...tasting it wouldn’t have affected me. Boy, you leaf-eaters are quick, aren’tcha?” she teased, thumping him on the head with her fist. “Now, sign my cast.”

  Alder walked back in, carrying the struggling Stonemaster golem in his hand. Bunni Bubbles sat on his shoulder triumphantly, as if she had just returned from a successful hunt. Despite the fact that he was doused in both syrup and feathers, Alder’s face was morose and concerned.

  “What in the world happened to you?” Athel said, plucking a sticky feather off of him.

  “There were some complications in the pursuit and capture,” Alder trailed off, his mind elsewhere.

  “What I want to know is, how the lad managed to get himself tarred and feathered when we have neither tar nor feathers on board,” Captain Evere chuckled as he took a bite of his sandwich.

  Athel placed her hand sympathetically on a spot on his back that was less sticky than the rest. “What’s wrong, Aldi?”

  “They were making some announcements on the prism stream when we chased by. Apparently, Queen Forsythia has collapsed. She is not expected to recover.”

  “Oh no,” Mina said, covering her mouth.

  Athel stood, stunned. Her mind refused to accept the information. Her mother couldn’t be gone, she was always there and she always would be. Her mother was a redwood, a kind of monolith of existence. Something like that doesn’t just go away.

  “That means Solanum is reigning in her stead,” Athel said quietly, as if trying to convince herself that this was really happening.

  “We must go back immediately,” Alder encouraged. “There is no other option at this point.”

  At the mention of returning, Athel’s face pinched. Her mouth opened slightly, but she did not protest aloud.

  “I don’t understand,” Privet said. “If Solanum is in charge, what does that have to do with us?”

  Athel froze, her eyes flicking back and forth as she fought wave after wave of conflicting emotions. She didn’t know if she should feel sad, angry, worried, or scared, so instead of feeling any one of those things, her heart just drifted back and forth among them without ever really settling into place.

  “Is Solanum Athel’s sister?” Mina asked sympathetically.

  Again, Athel did not answer. Alder stepped up to offer an explanation. “What I’m about to tell you isn’t well known outside the royal family,” he began, glancing over to Athel for consent, but she did not respond. Taking her hand gently in his, he continued. “Athel’s older sister Solanum was born with a rare disorder. You see, normally when a woman links with the forest, she partakes of the emotions and thoughts and memories of everyone else connected to it. When she removes herself from the link, those things that were not originally hers fade fairly quickly, allowing her to retain her individuality and sense of self.”

  “But Solanum can’t do that?” Privet guessed.

  Alder shook his head. “No, every time she links with the forest she is unable to expel it all. Over time, all those foreign memories and emotions built up and polluted her mind. It’s fairly safe to say she is far from sane at this point.”

  Alder took Athel’s other hand and looked into her eyes. “Have I got it right so far?”

  Athel slowly focused on his tender gaze. “Um...It’s different...quite different for the Queen, but yes, you have the gist of it.” Athel tilted her head. “How did you know about all this?” she asked.

  “Deutzia told me.”

  Athel’s face became angry and she pounded her fist against the ceiling above her. “Traitor!” she yelled.

  “Coward!” Deutzia yelled back, thumping her roots on the deck beneath her in response.

  Alder turned to the others. “Returning to Wysteria will be very dangerous right now.”

  “That’s putting it lightly, lad,” Captain Evere appraised. “Running a blockade is as dangerous as it gets.”

  Alder nodded. “But we'll have to if Wysteria is to survive. With Solanum on the throne, they won’t stand a chance when the Navy attacks.”

  Alder turned and looked his wife in the eyes. “We must go back.”

  Athel’s eyes flickered with defiance. She wanted to run, she wanted to hide; she wanted to do anything to delay this moment, to avoid this decision. But, try as she might, she could not find another way. Now, more than at any other point in her life, she felt utterly and completely trapped.

  Defeated, Athel lowered her head. Her shoulders slumped, her frizzy auburn hair fell down in front of her face.

  The chase was over.

  “All right, you win,” she said sternly, her voice shaking. “We'll finish up what we came here to do, and tonight we fly to Wysteria as fast as we can.”

  Alder breathed a sigh of relief.

  Athel turned her head to Captain Evere. “Is that all right with you?”

  Captain Evere inhaled. “Well, technically you should have asked me first before making such an announcement,” he groused.

  Athel glanced at him in irritation.

  Captain Evere smiled. “But we're with ya, lass.”

  “Thank you,” Athel said sincerely.

  “Um, Ho!” came Margaret’s voice through the call tubes.

  “Ho?” Ryin said, looking around.

  “Ho! Ho!” Margaret said again.

  “Ho Ho?” Captain Evere repeated in confusion. “What is she...?”

  “Ho Ho! Land!” Margaret said again through the call tubes.

  Mina placed her face in her hand. “Ugh. She’s trying to say land ho!’“

  Rushing up to the deck, they looked out at the Dragon Isles before them—harsh, rocky terrain carved out by ancient glaciers, rock formations jutted up from the ground, their smoothed surfaces looking vaguely like dragons diving in and out, swimming through the ground.

  Further inland, strange totems jutted out of the ground at odd angles. Frowning faces and foreboding hands carved from natural pillars of rock. Everywhere, an otherworldly mist clung to the cold landscape.

  “Why did you stop?” Captain Evere asked.

  “I...I didn’t stop,” Margaret defended. The winds just...went silent all of the sudden.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Setsuna stepped forward. “It means that we take the longboats from here.”

  Ryin and Hanner manned the oars of the longboat. Each one was tipped with a stone edge that cut into the air, allowing them to propel the longboat along without sails or on an ethereal wake like the airships used.

  “So, tell me,” Setsuna said, leaning in close to Privet. “What kind of woman do you like?”

  Privet lowered his spyglass and thought for a moment. “I like the kind that don’t talk very much.”

  Setsuna laughed. “Oh, you are so coy. It’s adorable.” She leaned in close, her lips nearly touching his neck. “But I know what you really want.”

  Privet raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

  Setsuna nodded, a wicked smile on her green lips. “You may think you are complicated and mysterious, but I can gate straight through all that.”

  Privet moved his money pouch to the other side of his belt, away from her. “Fine, I'll bite. What do I want?”

  “You don’t want to be a doormat any more,” she whispered against his neck. “But, you don’t want a doormat to step on either. You want someone who will stand beside you. Not in front of you, and not behind you either. An equal, someone who can match you in every way, who also sees you as her equal.”

  Privet said nothing, but from the way he reacted, it was obvious that she had hit the nail on the head.

  “You must know,” Setsuna whispered, “that Athel will never see you that way. Not in a thousan
d years.”

  Privet turned to protest, but Setsuna had already walked away to the other end of the longboat.

  “So, what were you talking about?” Athel asked coldly as Setsuna sat down.

  “I was just asking him to sign my cast,” Setsuna teased. “I saved a spot right here for you to sign it as well,” she offered, lifting up her sling as best she could.

  Hanner passed his oar over to Privet and unbundled baby Strenner to check his diaper. Taking out a cigar, Hanner snapped his fingers, but it didn’t light. Frustrated, Hanner snapped again, and again, but there was no spark or flame.

  Unable to hold back, Alder leaned forward and interjected himself. “You know, you really shouldn’t smoke in front of the baby.”

  Hanner turned his large bald head towards Alder and licked his lips. “Just what kind of father do you think I am?” he groused defensively.

  Alder leaned back a little. Hanner was easily four times his size. “I...I was only...”

  Hanner smiled, revealing a mouth full of wide, stubby teeth. “I’m not going to smoke in front of my son.”

  “Well, then why did you...?”

  Hanner pulled out a second smaller cigar. “I got one for him too. “We're gonna’ smoke ‘em together.”

  Alder was speechless.

  “But, Strenner’s an infant,” Athel interjected.

  “Sure is,” Hanner boasted, rubbing his sleeping baby on the head. “And it’s high time he learned how to smoke black root. On Iber, if a father doesn’t teach him how before his first birthday, then the son will be taken away and given to someone manlier to raise.”

  Now it was Athel’s turn to be speechless.

  “I just can’t seem to get ‘em lit for some reason,” Hanner complained, snapping his fingers again in vain.

  “The magic of the gods won’t work here,” Setsuna explained. “We are in the dragon’s realm now.”

  “So, what’s holding us up?” Ryin asked, peering over the side and looking at the crystals mounted along the longboat’s keel.

  “Void magic does not come from our gods,” Setsuna said ominously. “It is one of the ancient magics that existed long before this world was created.”

  “So, you knew the Stonemasters were using void magic?” Athel accused her with the question.

  “Of course I knew,” Setsuna chuckled. “I’m a Guild Master, for grub’s sake. Information is a commodity to steal and sell just like any other.”

  “What else do you know?” Athel asked.

  Setsuna looked at her sidelong. “Why should I tell you?”

  “Because we're trying to save people and land. Real lives are at stake. You'd be helping a great cause.”

  Setsuna laughed and covered her face. “You...are just so naïve, it hurts. To someone as well-traveled as myself, it is almost unbearable to listen to you talk. Do you really think I’d be moved by the righteousness of your cause? Come to me with an offer next time.”

  “Fine, then, what do you want?”

  Setsuna took out her compact and checked her makeup. “You won’t go for it.”

  “Try me.”

  Setsuna licked her lips and snapped the compact shut. “Okay, then, I want a date with Privet.

  “A what?” Athel asked, her eyes growing huge.

  “Yep, I wanna be courted. Dinner, a show, flowers, the whole cartload.”

  “Out of the question,” Athel insisted, crossing her arms. “I’d never agree to that.”

  “So much for the righteous cause, eh?” Setsuna pointed out. With a delicious smile on her lips, she watched Athel wrestle with herself. The importance of her quest on one side, and her distaste for the price on the other.

  “Always the mercenary,” Athel said.

  “I’m sorry, what part of ‘pirate’ did you not understand? Because I’d be happy to explain it to you sometime.”

  Athel sniffed and turned away from Setsuna. Setsuna turned away from Athel and began chewing on the tip of one of her pigtails crossly.

  As they passed the giant totems, Athel could not shake the sensation that they were watching her. Tired of it blowing about in her face, she gathered her long, auburn hair into a pony tail.

  Being around these enormous faces made her feel very small, little more than a puppet at the mercy of powers too large and great for her to comprehend, let alone challenge.

  Wrapping her arms around herself, Athel finally allowed herself to feel sad.

  No, it’s not the totems making me feel this way. It’s returning to Wysteria. I feel like I am going to a funeral.

  From behind, Athel felt Alder wrap his bony little arms around her. She closed her eyes and allowed the comforting sensation to wash over her. Without saying a word, he knew exactly how to talk to her. It wasn’t the same as speaking through the trees, but at times like this, it sure felt close to it. Alder kissed her gently on the neck. It was surprisingly bold for him, but she didn’t complain. It felt right; it felt good. It felt like home.

  “Over there, portside,” Setsuna pointed with her good arm. Amid the rocky shapes, they came up to a flattened stone tablet, as if one of the totems had been sawn off to nothing more than a rocky nub poking out of the ground. On top of the tablet were hundreds of crates, lined up and neatly arranged. They were unlabeled, and otherwise unremarkable, save for the strangeness of seeing them sitting there neatly in the middle of nowhere with no other living thing in sight.

  “Wow, that’s a really big one,” Setsuna praised as Captain Evere used a third sculling oar to guide them to ground level. “It looks like none of the other Guilds have been picking up their shipments.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Ryin chuckled. “They're probably all knee-deep in rum, food, and salty wenches.”

  “And big, hunky men who know how to give a perfect deep-tissue massage,” Setsuna cooed, half-closing her eyes.

  Ryin and Setsuna sighed dreamily in unison.

  “How many crates would you normally come across?” Captain Evere asked, looking around.

  Setsuna snapped herself out of her daydream. “Usually only three. What they give us is concentrated, so we cut it with sugar.”

  Mina whistled as they came to a stop, “So, this really is an enormous amount of ruper spice.”

  The longboat came to a stop and they climbed out before the crates.

  “I find it hard to believe that there is no one here to even watch over it,” Privet said as he trained his rifle about, looking through the scope for any sign of movement.

  Setsuna walked up to a crate and ran a manicured fingernail over it. “In all the years I’ve come here, I never saw a soul.”

  “This place feels creepy,” Margaret said, hiding behind Hanner.

  Setsuna snickered. “I posted some scouts just over there to watch the platform at one point, and they never saw anything. I don’t know how the spice gets here, or where it comes from.”

  “That’s smart of them,” Captain Evere praised as he looked around through the mist, his rifle readied. “By keeping everyone in the dark, they protect themselves from being betrayed.”

  “So, what do we do with it all?” Ryin asked, looking the stacks over.

  “We burn it,” Alder said, surprisingly firm, for him.

  “With what?” Ryin asked, looking around.

  “We can use the wood from the crates themselves,” Privet suggested.

  Ryin pulled out a crowbar from the longboat, while Hanner used his fists and teeth. As the crates were dismantled, the sealed clay jars containing the spice were revealed.

  Privet picked one up and looked it over. “You know, it’s funny,” he mused. “All those years I investigated and arrested spice use, but it was just a banned substance to me, not all that important, just a line that had been crossed. A law that had been broken, you know? To think that this stuff was actually designed to suck out the souls of the people it killed... Now, I look at this stuff and it makes me sick to my stomach.”

  Loose wood was gathered toget
her and built up into a lean-to. Hanner snapped his fingers, but no flame was produced. “What the...oh, right,” he said, abashed.

  “I believe I may be of assistance,” Alder said, enjoying the role reversal as he pulled out his tinderbox and got to work. Within a few minutes Alder had a good, hot, rolling fire going, and the ruper spice was thrown in. It didn’t so much burn as it came apart; heat and flame separating the dark magic from the base materials and sending it spiraling upwards in bleak, purple wisps. Alder seemed particularly motivated, tossing in the clay jars two and three at a time.

  When the last of the jars had been burned, everyone looked around to double check. That is when they noticed Setsuna, loading a pair of the jars into the longboat.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Athel asked as she ran up.

  “I’m just taking my share,” Setsuna hedged. “Not a big deal.”

  “We're burning them all,” Athel insisted.

  Setsuna stared at her. “Are you crazy? The spice market is about to collapse completely. Do you know what that means? That means that these two little jars are about to become the most valuable thing in the realm.”

  Alder stepped up and looked at the jars with contempt. “You would sell them? Even after learning how evil they are? Even after all the wealth you've already acquired?”

  “Some things can’t be bought with just money,” Setsuna explained. “Think of all the addicts who will come clamoring for this stuff. And not just poor folks, either. Royal family members, people with pull. They'll do anything to get more. Literally, anything. Think of what you could do with power like that!”

  Alder stepped closer to her, shaking with anger. “You can’t treat them like that! They are people.”

  “Pffft! It’s their fault for getting addicted to the stuff in the first place.”

  There was a sound like a whip cracking. It took everyone a second to realize what had happened, and once they did, they couldn’t believe what they had seen. Setsuna’s expression, a mixture of confusion and shock as her head twisted to one side. Alder’s expression of complete indignation as his open hand sailed through the air.

  He had slapped her square in the face.

  Alder scooped up the pair of clay jars and ran over to the fire, tossing them in as quickly as he could.