by T. G. Ayer
“The key tenets of the order question a woman's right and ability to rule,” said Lyra, her tone strained. “Their claim is that the core duty of a woman is to bear her husband offspring. As such, she is not in any position to hold office, or to perform male-centric roles which include holding any type of job outside of that of a nurturing female. Roles available to women would be as teachers, cooks, and food related jobs like preserving, canning etc, dressmakers, cleaners, harvesters. And even then, they will not be allowed to own a business, and the roles must be overseen by a superior male.”
“Wow,” said Sienna as she scratched her head. “This is so much worse than I’d thought.”
Lyra nodded, her complexion having taken on a gray tinge. “The irony is that the Fathers appear to have intensely passionate support by the women of their households. Which in and of itself is rather strange. I can't quite understand how anyone in a position of respect and authority would forgo that for complete subjugation. Equality, I'd understand, but that in itself is ridiculous because we have always been an equal society.”
“Is Drakys not a matriarchal-run realm?” Logan asked. Sienna had explained a little of the details to him, but he wanted to hear what Lyra had to say.
Lyra opened her mouth to reply but Vyrian cut her off. “Ever since our people can remember, the realm has thrived under the guiding hand of the Rule of the Entwined Dragons. The title of Queen given to the female sibling has never detracted from the equality of that rule. I belief it harks back to a time when the husband of the queen would receive the title of King. Wars were fought over a mere right to title, and the laws were amended. A common enough question as to why the male is referred to as general instead of King, also draws on a time long past when the twin rulers were referred to as King and Queen, but the naming held distinct incestuous connotations—which the people were keen to dispel.”
Logan made a face. “I take it there is some historical truth to that?”
“It's a little complicated, but to make it brief, Drakys is not the only Realm of Dragons. There are three other realms, of which one, Drogyr, has a history rife with incestuous pairings, and of course the desire for conquest. Ancient archives show a tyrannical rule over Drakys for two centuries, until the people of this realm rose up and took back what was theirs. A result of the uprising was the joint rule of the Royal twins during which both bear equal power in managing the realm and its people.”
“And the Fathers?” asked Logan, scowling as he voiced his suspicion. “Can I ask if any of the families loyal to the Fathers originally rejected the new law?”
“Very astute. He has a very sharp mind, much like his sister,” Vyrian said almost to himself.
Lyra glanced over at the old man, hesitated, then dragged her attention back to Logan. “Two of the leading proponents of the Fathers belong to families originally from Drogyr. Granted it's a history that goes back more than two centuries, but one has to wonder if their old ways have been perpetuated behind closed doors all theses centuries.”
Logan nodded slowly. “And you expect some opposition before our ascension? Would it not benefit the Fathers and even the Equals, to thwart the proceedings? Attempt a coup perhaps.”
Vyrian nodded. “There has been talk, which is why we wanted to suggest a private ascension ceremony as soon as possible. Then we notify the realm and proceed with the celebrations after the rites are completed. Overthrowing an already ascended ruler isn't an easy sell, even to the most rebellious of our people.”
“Consequences?” asked Logan.
Lyra shrugged, and Vyrian merely pursed his lips in reply. Lyra said, “Other than infuriating anyone who had planned on crashing the party and performing a more dramatic takeover?” the regent said. “We at least thwart any attempts to sabotage the ascension ceremony. And should anyone wish to object, you and the queen can address those objections as you see fit, and in a manner less inclined to spill blood.”
Logan paused, the urgency of the state of affairs within the Drakys realm had become startlingly clear during Lyra's monologue. “What's been happening over the last few weeks while I've been recovering? Why has no one attempted a coup in our absence?”
“You haven't been absent.” Lyra shook her head and gave a sneaky smile. “Synestra has been here regularly, which has given the council and the citizens the impression that your arrival is imminent.”
Logan glanced over at his sister, unsure if he ought to be annoyed that she'd delayed his arrival or glad that she'd covered for him.
Before he could question Sienna, his aunt cut him off. “There is one thing of utmost importance.”
Both Logan and Sienna focused on their aunt. Her profile was sharp, her cheeks hollow, almost gaunt.
Lyra cleared her throat. “It's about your Drakyrin. After the Rite of Ascension—and during the Grand Procession—the new rulers must bless the realm with their winged flight. You will travel together to visit the noble houses across the realm. And you do need to be ready, and be strong enough to handle such a long journey.”
Logan had been expecting this, but having heard the words, his gut twisted. Though he was tempted to look at Sienna, he was afraid the consternation he felt would be revealed in his face, so he merely nodded.
But Lyra appeared oblivious to Logan's discomfort. “You shouldn't worry too much,” she said with an airy wave of her gold-tipped fingers. “I just wanted to warn you so you can practice and build up your stamina as soon as possible.”
Logan scratched his chin and then nodded. “So what's our agenda? Secret ascension, informal introductions to the realm, learning the ropes and then formal announcement and realm blessing.”
“In a nutshell, yes.” Lyra tapped one of her gold-tipped fingernails on the dark wood, an inch away from a carving of a volcano spewing red lava. “Vyrian and I will prepare for the ascension. We can fly out at daybreak, if that's suitable?”
Logan shared a glance with Sienna before nodding, ensuring his expression remained sober as Sienna replied, “Daybreak is fine. Since the ceremony is private, do we care about the regalia and the Royal armor?”
Lyra pursed her lips. “I suppose it really doesn't matter. Dress appropriately. Just none of those hideous EarthWorld blue jeans atrocities. I'll bring along a trunk of the more adjustable armor items in case you do want it to feel a little special.” Lyra smiled at Sienna and then at Logan before getting to her feet. “Come, Synestra. We have a meeting with the northern ambassadors about an adjustment in trade goods. Something about low crop-yield due to flooding and they have something else to offer as substitute.”
Logan glanced up at the two women as they rose from their chairs. At that moment, Lyra glanced over at him. “After the introduction, you will be included in these meetings when you're available. But as for now, let's keep up the pretense that you haven't yet arrived. I'm sure the two of you can discuss things,” she smirked as she tapped a finger to her temple, “before Synestra makes any big decisions.”
Then Logan's aunt was striding out of the room, his sister in tow.
I'd sure hate to be on her bad side, he said to Sienna.
Yeah. Trust me, it's not at all pleasant.
Chapter 11
"It was a setup," came Mom's voice, drifting toward me on a haze of slumber.
I'd fallen asleep—if but for an instant—and perhaps Mom had too. From the pull on my limbs and my lids, I suspected we'd slept for at least a few minutes.
I cleared my throat and burrowed deeper under the covers, aware that the robe had twisted almost halfway around my body and the the knot of the belt was currently digging into my hip.
Beside me, Mom was probably still seriously lacking clothes, unless she'd snuck out the bed during my short nap and found herself something to wear. I wasn't planning to check.
I swallowed before saying, "What was a setup?" The question scraped across a parched throat and I blinked, aware my eyes felt just as dry and gritty.
Mom gave a soft cough, cuppin
g her hand over her mouth. "My appointment in Galakris with the herb merchant for the Krisl stamens. I walked right into a trap, clueless and unsuspecting. I dropped my guard. I was distracted. And when you don't keep your head in the game, you open yourself up to potential problems."
"You can't be so hard on yourself, Mom. You've been running and hiding for so long. You weren't even able to be with us for Greer's funeral. And then you come home to discover your family in danger and Lily needing a deeper strength in the Synthe?"
Mom shook her head. "I should have been careful. I didn't follow protocol. I didn't do the recon. I walked into a trap, blind and clueless. And I got myself caught."
"You're forgetting something that's a little more important than you being distracted."
"Which is?"
"The fact that it was a trap," I said lifting one eyebrow. Mom's quizzical look made me roll my eyes. "They went to all that trouble to set up an ambush and abduct you from a demon realm of all places. How many questions does that raise? How did they know you were going to Galakris? Who is feeding Division 7 information on your movements?"
Mom was silent for a moment and then she blinked. "I've know Ryzva for more than a decade. He was the last person I'd have expected to turn on me. We've traded a number of favors over the years, probably owe each other our lives. I just never expected to have to be suspicious of a friend."
"Well, in reference to my most recent experiences with shapechangers, I have it on good authority that it's entirely possible for anyone to plant one of them within your environment and be able to pull the wool over your eyes without much trouble. These shapechangers...they're way too good. It's just uncanny how accurate they are." I shuddered, and there was nothing mocking about the movement.
After seeing Mom, or the person I’d believed was Mom, in the lab, and having been convinced it was her, I was horrified to discover I’d been talking with a shapechanger. And had I not stumbled on a clue in the more intricate details of Mom’s past and our family history, I’d never have been the wiser. And then, Cassandra's shifting into my face and form, had been a second reminder. I knew well enough how easy it was to be fooled.
I snorted. "If I hadn't known I was me, I would have been fooled. That's how good Cassie was. And you know, I'm pretty sure she'd have fooled you and Dad as well. So, I think it's time for you to add a shapechanger as a possibility. Your friend Ryzva may well still be loyal to you."
"Or he may well be dead." Mom's expression was devoid of amusement as she considered—seemingly for the first time—that her friend may have been compromised and could be dead.
I let out a soft sigh. "So, any thoughts on who could have snitched? Who knew you were going to Galakris?"
Mom shook her head. "We'd have to perform a proper investigation. A lot of people were aware. Everyone under this roof for starters. Then the circle widens with everyone they would have come into contact with, who we all trusted enough to confide in. And the net would need to be cast even wider if I were to consider Sentinel or the Elite, the agents and handlers too."
I let out a low grunt. "Fabulous. Well, let me know when you begin your investigation. I'll be busy that day."
Mom smirked and shook her head, the movement squishing her cheek into the pillow for a moment. "I'm not sure there is any point."
"We need to know how deep Division 7 has their claws into the paranormal community, investigative agencies or not." Then I paused. "How sure are we that this is DIvision 7? What confirmation do we have that would have convinced the Chief?"
"The lab databases, though simplistic in terms of programming, were extensive, and the forensics people found the purchase details for the batches the facility bought. The crumbs were followed all the back to a shell company that was traced back to another shell, all the way back to Division 7's Washington Branch."
"That's quite the investigative trip," I murmured as she paused to take a breath.
Mom nodded. "Either way, that's where the trail ended. Even if we can stick a label on it, Division 7 itself doesn't truly exist. Properties, leases, bank accounts, they all lead to shadow corporations and shell companies and nameless agents working for more nameless handlers who answer to more nameless and untraceable people who give the orders. I've been working at this for too long,"
Mom said with a deep sigh as she rubbed her forehead, fingers pressing hard at the curving bones above her eyes.
"They're able to run you in circles. You have no idea how many times I've given up and abandoned the search when the trail went dead. And how do you think we catch a break? When they pop their heads up again. Not because we've actually done anything constructive. It feels a lot like we're playing fetch, with Div 7 throwing the ball, and we're doing a bang-up impression of Fido."
I felt her frustration like a living breathing thing, and I shared the taut tension that coiled deep within her. "How long have you been on their trail?” I asked, aware that this was the first time we spoke of her work, her missions, the things she did behind the veil of lies and shadows and secrets.
And for a briefest moment I wondered if she'd blanket the truth with warm smiles and evasions.
But she didn't.
Her lips thinned in a fine line as shadows played on the curves and hollows of her face. The sun was lower in the sky now, the day filling with the promise night.
My first night during which I truly faced my existence. In which I stared, eyes wide open at my mortality, as there were things I myself had not yet revealed, to Chief Murdoch, to Chloe who had gotten so so close to seeing it while she'd helped me heal, to my father whose cursory physical hadn't been sufficient but who'd demanded I head straight to the Elite Medcentre for an MRI—just in case.
Those had been his words: just in case.
Had he suspected?
I pushed the thoughts back down deep into the darkness that had settled within the very centre of my being. The scales had been tipped, but I wasn't yet ready to take stock.
For now I focused on Mom, whose low honeyed tones filtered through the web of my inner turmoil, forcing me to focus as she said, "When I first saw the signs of your abilities, I didn't think much of it. I'm a mage, so genetically there was nothing to be surprised about. But I'd earned a reputation through my years of working as a hunter, a reputation that I was hardly able to shake. And soon those who observed from the sidelines began to make connections between my power—the golden glow which I'm sure you already know all too well—and I soon became known throughout the DarkWorld as The Hunter. Upper case with the requisite inflections when spoken out loud.
“People talked of The Hunter with a sense of reverence and I found myself a tiny bit proud, believing they respected me and what I'd been doing for the people across the realms. I'd tracked and hunted demons, eliminated terrible threats, infiltrated factions whose aims were destruction and war. I'd made alliances and enemies too, but that was par for the course.
“Over the years my power only grew, and I was very much in demand. I was known for being swift, silent and deadly so I could have sold my soul to the highest bidder, but I didn't. I worked for the Supreme High Council and by virtue of that, solely for Sentinel. And now more recently for The Elite. I suppose I may not have drawn attention so quickly had I not married and had children."
"Did your power fade when you were pregnant?"
"Not at all. It was Celeste who faded. My focus shifted to my family, first to my son and then my daughters, though I did work in between. I very much believed in being close to my babies in their early years and now I treasure those times so much."
"Did you work at all while pregnant? Somehow I can't picture you going into confinement and knitting and sewing and doing...what's that thing where you make those tiny crosses that form a larger picture?"
"Cross-stitch," Mom supplied effecting an elegant half-bodied shudder what with the fact that she was lying on her side. Still, her disgust shone in her eyes and I shook my head.
"That bad, huh?"
"Paranormal Medical board?" I frowned, having never heard of such a board.
Mom nodded. "To put it bluntly, they presided over cross-breed births. In Ancient times they were a sort of judge and jury, the way humans used to treat unwed mothers, and often with the same result."
"Huh? You mean the babies would be taken away from the mothers."
"Intermarriage in those times was officially frowned upon, and unofficially taboo. Hence the board which was instituted for the express purpose of overseeing births and separating mother from child and in separating the couple. There were ancient horror stories of mothers who were killed for returning to their lovers, and parents sentenced to death for searching out their babies and stealing them back."
"And here I thought those were fables."
Chapter 12
Mom chuckled. "Even in the human world, fables have a thread or two of truth in them. Thankfully in our case the Board had evolved to a more scientifically acceptable outlook. They were doctors and scientists from every paranormal realm and across all species. Their job was to study the genetic combinations, predict possible problems and oversee the pregnancy all the way to a healthy birth.
“Mothers are assigned a Medical Unit that comprise of doctors with knowledge of her species and powers and of those of the father. They draw on historical cases, as well as the individual medical histories of the parents to come to conclusions that ensure the health and wellbeing of both mother and child."
"Sounds intense," I supplied, only as a means to fill the long tense pause in which Mom's gaze shifted to something unseeing where I knew she was held within the grip of some past memory that was filled with pain.
Mom blinked and her expression coalesced as she focused on me. "It was intense. Especially with shifter births. In ancient times, shifters transformed into their animal form and gave birth to babies who would remain in animal form until their teen years. It was the other way around to how things are today, affected by centuries of interbreeding, the human form became dominant."