Shadow Call

by Michael Miller

  My heels clicked more sharply, echoing in the marble hall and betraying my mood. What I really wanted to do was stomp and scream. Maybe throw a priceless vase or two.

  And yet, I reminded myself with a calming breath, perhaps what my family had done would be worthwhile in the long run. We were about to offer up Shadow to the galaxy as a revolutionary new fuel, and our research into the energy’s startling effects on humans had resumed. Arjan had helped us make great strides in that sector. Now all we needed to do was secure our Shadow grounds, and for that, I just needed the money to deploy the fleet.

  A massive influx of revenue was coming from Shadow, and yet not soon enough, not with the drones acting as they were and not with the rebellion on Alaxak. What I needed, in the meantime, was…

  …leaning against a marble pillar before me, after I turned a corner.

  The timing would have been perfect—it was the exact moment I’d been hoping to “fortuitously” stumble upon, except that the object of my attention, Heathran, was standing with Daiyen Xiaolan and another girl.

  My gaze homed in on Daiyen like a plasma missile. My smile felt as sharp as my heels as I strolled up. I barely glanced at the other girl standing with them, only enough to register features and dark coloring that matched Heathran’s—his younger sister, seventeen or so, probably only there to keep up appearances.

  “Why, there you are!” I exclaimed brightly. Too brightly, like a solar flare. Heathran’s sister—Shadia was her name—suppressed a flinch. “I was wondering where you’d both gotten off to while the rest of us were meeting.”

  Daiyen flicked her chilly gaze, as dark and pointed as her mother’s, at the sleek black wrist feed coiled around her arm like a serpent—Xiaolan-design, of course—and she smiled. “Mother informs me that was quite the riot in there. Elder even had to call for order.” She managed to say the Belarius title in a slyly teasing way, as if she were on familiar terms with the most powerful man in the systems.

  I wanted to grit my teeth. Hinting at Heathran’s father’s disapproval was a solid blow, not that she would even understand entirely why. I didn’t need or even want the Elder’s endorsement as a potential match for Heathran. I had no intention of marrying his son. Ever. And yet if he disliked me, or worse, found me an unfit ruler, there was no way he would allow Heathran to loan me what I needed, whether or not I managed to charm the latter into thinking there was something between us.

  “If only you could have been there.” I made myself sigh regretfully. “It’s difficult being the youngest on the council. I just feel like people my age, as you are, have such a clearer view of the systems.”

  Sometimes I longed to say what truly lay under all the niceties of speech, but then, this was more fun. A subtle war game played with pretty words.

  “We were just…,” Heathran began, but then he hesitated. Good. He didn’t like any assumptions that might be made about this little gathering.

  Surprisingly, Shadia spoke up, less intimidated than I’d initially thought. Perhaps she wished to change the subject for her brother’s sake. Or maybe Daiyen’s. “I’m terribly sorry to hear the news about your mother. And father,” she added belatedly.

  I blinked at her, because she clearly meant it. And then I remembered: the girl had lost her mother—as had Heathran—to assassination. It had happened so long ago, ten years or more, that I almost never thought about it, but it had obviously left an impression on the girl. Enough so that my mother’s death was more prominent in her mind than my father’s, though it was usually the opposite for those expressing their sympathies.

  But then, her mother would have been on the council had she still been alive, because Belarius kings and queens shared power equally as spouses—it was even expected of them. Xiaolan didn’t: their society was matriarchal, and the queen took only a consort. Makar’s Nirmana wife and queen could have theoretically been at the meeting if he had been himself, but she usually preferred to stay out of the public eye. Much like my own mother, she was happy—no, expected—to let her husband take over most major decisions, a common attitude in both Nirmana and Dracorte cultures.

  Which was why I never planned to marry.

  “Thank you, Shadia, dear. It’s good to see you again,” I said warmly, but my tone didn’t entirely couch the dismissal in my words.

  She took her cue, ducking her head in a slight curtsy befitting one royal to another, though it was a touch deferential. “I was just leaving. I’m afraid my studies can’t wait.”

  Belarius equality between the sexes or no, she was still forced to study, as a princess. I nearly shuddered at the thought, and then basked in the assurance that nobody in my family, man or woman, could tell me what to do ever again. Amazing, the difference a crown made.

  Daiyen’s eyes narrowed a fraction at the girl’s departure. “You must be so busy yourself, as a new queen,” she said, turning my own line of attack back on me. “You must have more important things to be doing than indulging us with your company, what with your drone problems and rebellion and all.” She smiled sympathetically.

  She really should have stayed home. Because a plan clicked into my head as I smiled back at her and nodded, sharp as a Disruption Blade in its sheath.

  Someone had dressed like a Xiaolan assassin. Suvis could do the same. He was already well on his way to Embra from Alaxak to join me. He would arrive within a few days.

  Once I felt the razor edges take shape, I relaxed entirely and gave her so genuine a smile she did blink. “Why, yes, yes I do.”

  “Aaltos is a heavily militarized planetary subsystem.” Devrak had requisitioned every infopad on the Kaitan, laying them all on the messroom table. They linked, displaying one image, and he swept his hands across them, summoning a map in question. The planet and its moon, both habitable, spun in lazy orbit before us. “This is where we train our ground troops and manufacture their equipment.”

  The Belarius Drive hummed its tune in the background, activated after coordinates had been programed for Aaltos. As soon as we had departed from Alaxak, everyone had gone back to their bunks to try to rest, but only a few hours later, Devrak had woken me to discuss our next steps and then called a strategy meeting here with the rest of the crew.

  His fingers traced out installations on the planet, where troop counts and arsenal inventories sprang up. Basra questioned the numbers, and I was glad for his curiosity; he seemed to be the least haggard of all of us, and if there was anyone I wanted helping us with strategy, he was the easy choice.

  “How familiar are you with the planet, Nev?” Devrak asked.

  “Fairly. I trained there for my high-grav exercises. And my father was there regularly for reviews and deployment meetings. I sat in on some of them.”

  “That’s curious.” Basra furrowed his brow and sat back in his chair. “There is little reason that a ruler couldn’t participate in most meetings and decisions via the QUIN.”

  Devrak smiled slightly. “Correct. The generals and commanding officers of the Dracorte military are, like much of the family, steeped in tradition. Thelarus, as supreme commander of the armed forces, valued personal interactions and believed it fostered loyalty.”

  And now those generals all think I killed him.

  “Oh, is that why he shook my hand before he took my eye?” Arjan muttered. He leaned back in his chair with his arms folded, shooting me a critical glance.

  I knew he blamed me for what had happened to him on Luvos, and while I could see where he might be coming from emotionally, rationally I was having a harder time reconciling the two. I had managed with virtually no sleep since leaving Alaxak, and the exhaustion was amplifying the newfound anger lurking behind my thoughts, waiting to flare up when I wasn’t consciously suppressing it. I wanted to grab Arjan, shake him by the shoulders, and ask which one of us had voluntarily chosen to sacrifice more. How much would it take to prove that my intenti
ons were true, or to atone for my mistakes?

  Qole ignored him entirely. “So we just cruise in with Nev and he takes over?”

  “If only it were so.” Devrak sighed. “Officially, the planet is loyal to the new queen, and our mere arrival would cause chaos, infighting, and probably retaliation from Solara before any decision could be made. No, we need the leadership on our side before anyone else on the planet knows we’re there, which means we must find a way to meet with them in secret.”

  Qole leaned forward, frowning, to look at the displays. “I don’t see a lot of ships. It might not be too hard to slip through without drawing much attention.”

  “Correct again,” Devrak said. “Aaltos specializes in its infantry. Its navy is small, which is good for gaining entrance, less good for Nev if he manages to convince the generals to follow him. The bulk of the Dracorte navy is under the command of General Illia Faetora of Luvos, who has long chafed under a hierarchy she saw as…limiting. Solara has granted her sole command of the fleet in return for her unwavering support.”

  “So while getting to Aaltos isn’t a problem, we have to hope the rest of the generals believe that Nev didn’t kill his parents, and that they can defend themselves against the royal Dracorte navy?” I could tell Qole wasn’t trying to sound dubious, but the statement wasn’t very hopeful.

  “Well, that’s why we then have to use their strength to blow up a fleet.”

  “Beg pardon?” Telu said.

  “Solara’s forces already vastly outnumber ours, but she’s expanding her entire navy by thirty percent with a new fleet the Treznor-Nirmanas are building for her on Valtai. Under no circumstances can we let her acquire this fleet.”

  “And why, pray tell, would we want to blow up this fleet and not attempt to…acquire it ourselves?” Basra asked.

  “Because only the Treznor-Nirmanas can cede control of the fleet to the rightful owner, namely whoever has paid for it. Besides, attempting to steal it—and that’s assuming some slight chance of success, which we wouldn’t have—would be an act of war against an even greater power than your sister’s. It would look bad for Treznor business, so they would eliminate us with due haste.”

  “So…we blow it up instead. Who came up with this idiotic plan?” Telu asked.

  “I did,” I said. I nearly wanted to pull a face at her.

  “It was rather clever, actually, given what we have to work with,” Devrak said, and I felt a warm glow of pride.

  “So, we go to Aaltos, talk to some generals, quietly blow up a fleet, and then hope we survive the rest of the Dracorte navy?” Qole amended.

  A mirthless smile tugged at my lips. “Not only that, I have to pass the Forging.”

  “The Forging,” Qole echoed, tasting the word like something dirty. “What is…wait, don’t tell me. Another family tradition. Is it dangerous?”

  I was irrationally pleased with her being protective, and that, of all things, put me in a better frame of mind. “Not impossibly so, no, although Devrak’s silence on what’s involved isn’t exactly encouraging.”

  “The Forging was meant to be a barrier to direct control of the military from the royal family, unless they proved themselves wholly capable,” Devrak elaborated. “Solara refused to undergo it, and thus she should have been forced to pass her desires to her generals for them to act upon; she shouldn’t be able to provide explicit military directives. To get around this, she has all but dismissed her generals, other than Faetora, and they resent her. Surviving the Forging when Solara refuses to acknowledge the tradition would demonstrate Nev’s respect, integrity, and prowess all at once.”

  “And all regicide on his part forgiven?” Basra wondered out loud.

  Devrak only said, “Leave that to me. Now, I must discuss a few things with Nevarian in private.”

  “Anything you two have to say, you should be able to say around us,” Arjan said. “You can’t expect us to trust you if you don’t return the favor.”

  “Trusting Eton almost got Nevarian killed,” Devrak replied without rancor.

  “You know what trusting Nev got us?” Arjan bit back, his single eye burning at me. Basra put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. Arjan looked up in surprise. He obviously hadn’t noticed Basra moving around behind him.

  They still hadn’t been speaking to each other much, not since Arjan had snapped at Basra’s offer to help financially with a replacement for his eye. Basra’s wealth wasn’t the only problem; Arjan’s resentment had been building ever since he’d discovered that Basra had kept his true identity as Hersius Kartolus a secret from him. It wasn’t only me who’d angered him.

  Basra didn’t say anything but left his hand resting there, and Arjan sighed, reaching up to clasp it for a moment.

  “You can talk to Nev—Nevarian—alone for anything entirely private,” Qole said finally, her sharp eyes noting the exchange. “We won’t listen in.”

  “Nevarian? Wait, do I have to call you Your Loftiness now?” Telu asked with a wicked grin, as we all stood from the table.

  “Only if I can call you Your Shortness,” I said, without missing a beat.

  She punched me in the stomach, for which I was oddly grateful.

  “So it hinges on the test,” Basra said in summation. He crossed his arms, looking at me carefully. I recognized his expression; I saw it on his face after every Shadow run, weighing the optimal cannery to sell to, what third-party deals might be available. He was calculating something, and I was a variable in that calculation. “Are you ready for it?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Qole said before I could respond.

  Devrak frowned. “No?”

  She shook her head. “No. Nev has two options. He can fight, or he can give up. Pass or fail, we’ve all chosen the route we have to fly.”

  * * *

  “She would have been remarkable if she had gone to the Academy.” Devrak swirled the last few dregs of tàs in his cup thoughtfully. We’d ended up staying in the messroom once everyone had filed out.

  I’d considered the same thing and had come to a different conclusion. “I believe her not going is one of the reasons we haven’t seen the likes of her before.”

  Devrak inclined his head in deference to my opinion. “Without a doubt. Unfortunately, that is also why you have to distance yourself as soon as possible.”

  I took a deep breath, steadying my hands on the table. I had been dreading this conversation since I had brought Qole to Luvos, back when I hadn’t been willing to acknowledge what I was feeling. But even then, I had known that expressing feelings for someone of low birth would be difficult for even the most open-minded of the nobility. Like Devrak.

  “You think she’s beneath me.”

  A pained expression crossed Devrak’s face. “I’m afraid that’s not it at all. No, it is the simple fact that you have both chosen to pursue goals where success is achievable only through separation.”

  “I see.” My hands tightened into fists, and anger crept into my words. “So somehow being a better ruler than Solara means I have to hurt those near me? Push them away? Focus on myself ?”

  “I would advise that you not measure yourself against Solara, but against what makes a righteous ruler. You need allies, Nevarian, and you need respect.” Devrak leaned forward intently, and I felt the pressure of his presence, decades of listening to him as a mentor. “You will win that with a properly chosen marriage. Your life is not your own now, and attempting to choose relationships for personal gain will not only harm anyone who supports you, but will put this entire crew in danger in the process. Their place is not at court, and I suspect you know this. I suspect Qole knows this.”

  I sat silently, not wanting to meet his eyes, formulating a hundred responses in my head. The man was a master not just of the martial arts but of cornering my thoughts and disarming my arguments before I voiced them. Ther
e was a terrible progression to everything that had started unfolding as soon as I had made the choice to fight. Helping Qole means leaving Qole.

  Devrak watched me, and I wasn’t sure whether I was going to rage, laugh, or cry.

  Somehow, I managed to merely sink deeper in my seat and give a weary, “Yes, yes.” I wanted to add I’ve heard it all before, which I had, my entire childhood. It was just that now it was applicable.

  “I’ll leave you to think on this. Get some rest, and let’s talk after that.”

  I sighed with relief when he exited, which turned into a groan when Telu entered almost immediately afterward.

  “What does it take to be alone?” I closed my eyes.

  “Not hanging out in the messroom,” Telu said, moving to the galley to pour herself a drink. “What’s got you feeling so sorry for yourself ?”

  “Seriously?” I cracked one eye. “You must have the most epic sympathy standards of all time. Should I start with my parents dying, or something else?”

  She sat down at the table with a full mouth, then swallowed. “Happens to everyone eventually. Be happy you didn’t feel the need to throw your dad in jail to rot like I did. Anyway, I don’t think that’s what’s gnawing at you right now.”

  I closed my eyes again and let my hands fall to my sides. “You are the missing piece of the advice puzzle, I’m sure. Tell me what’s bothering me.”

  “You’re bummed that Daddy 2.0 just told you to distance yourself from us.”

  I sat up straight. “Telu, you have to understand…”

  Telu rolled her eyes. “Scrap that. I get it. You’re going to be king on Luvos. Qole is going to run Alaxak. I’m going to, beats me, code a script to cry everyone a river. None of this is going to be all huge catches and good times. But.” Telu leaned over the table, and I saw both her eyes glittering through her shock of hair. “You need to make sure you and Qole have the same destination in mind, when it comes to the two of you.”