Queen of Thorns

by Dave Gross

  "Behind me, my prince!" Caladrel had his bow drawn, his special-occasions arrow pointed at Variel's heart. "We will withdraw to our men and depart. This arrow is doom to any elf."

  The boss put his hand on his sword. What probably nobody else saw was that he already had a scroll in his other hand. I didn't know what he had in mind, but at least he seemed to have a plan.

  "Don't move, Count," said Caladrel. "You have only just met your father. Do not force me to make you an orphan."

  "There is still time for an honorable surrender." The boss edged over, trying to put himself between Caladrel and his old man, but Caladrel moved too. "You have been loyal to a bad lord, but loyalty is a virtue. The queen may show you mercy."

  "Stay where you are. You are a capable swordsman, but you are not swift enough to cut this string before I release it."

  "You will not leave," said Zuldanavox.

  "Then neither will your lover." Caladrel released the arrow.

  He was right when he said the boss could never reach the string in time. He couldn't even draw his sword more than a few inches, but the boss knew that too. He shook the blade out of its sheath, thrusting the still-half-scabbarded sword toward Variel's chest even as he let the riffle scroll flip across his thumb. The blade glimmered as the spell sweetened its path, putting it right where the boss wanted it to go.

  Caladrel's arrow struck the blade's razor-sharp edge. The wooden arrowhead splintered into a thousand harmless threads and floated away like seed pods.

  Caladrel let his bow drop to the ground, his arms hanging limp at his sides. "My prince, forgive me."

  "Caladrel."

  "I should destroy you both," said Zuldanavox.

  "I beg Your Majesty to spare him," said Kemeili.

  "Why?"

  "Queen Telandia has come with gifts. If you would offer her one in return, let it be a gift of revenge. Amarandlon will suffer more at her hands than from any torment you can offer."

  "Is that so?" said Zuldanavox. "You think you elves with your three little stings have perfected the art of vengeance, do you? How little you know of dragons. And yet I do wish to offer Telandia a gift. I shall demonstrate my idea of revenge."

  Dark light played around the dragon's big horn. An inhuman screaming rose from the flickering magic that gathered at its tip. When it lashed down to strike Caladrel, it blinded everybody for a moment. When we blinked the sight back into our eyes, there was nothing left but a scorch on the street and a look of ruin on Amarandlon's face.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  We stuck around after the Council of Queens. One thing you got to love about the highborn, they put a title on everything they do, like it was a play or an opera or something worth seeing. That sort of thing usually gives me a chuckle, but I had to agree that putting Telandia and Zuldana together was a big deal—and not just for the elves. Depending on how things fell out, the boss was going to take his old man back to Iadara. When I asked him about it, he took a deep breath and explained that he might need to pay an additional price for Variel's escape.

  "What kind of price?"

  "Zuldanavox desires that I visit occasionally and share the knowledge I have discovered in lands outside of Kyonin."

  "Yeah? That don't sound so bad." He still looked a little pale, and then I got what he wasn't saying. "Oh. Oh!"

  "I hope that she will be satisfied with a copy of my Pathfinder journal and a demonstration of rituals like the Thirty-Six Forms, curiosities like the whispering lilies or the riffle scrolls."

  "Aw, boss, you're going to have to do better than that. This is a highly sensitive diplomatic situation. You know what a smart guy told me when I was in that situation?"

  He shot me a look meant to shut me up, but he spoiled it by swallowing the lump in his throat.

  "Keep her happy, boss."

  When it got obvious he wasn't going to get a laugh out of it, I let him off the hook.

  For the next few days, Telandia's guard stuck around to protect the laborers she sent through the aiudara to help clean up. The guards killed a few straggling demons but were careful only to drive off the other monsters living in the city. They'd been forbidden to harm the subjects of the Queen of Thorns, which is what Zuldana wanted everybody to call her now. Hearing that phrase was one of the few things that gave the boss a smile, like he was proud of it or something.

  The boss and me, we mostly hung out at the manor. He spent all his time in the library, trying to memorize as many of the books as he could before we had to leave. He grumbled about not having brought a spell to let him copy all the most interesting books. Zuldana wasn't going to let him borrow any. He'd have to come back to read more.

  When I got bored of watching him read, and knowing that Variel was on hand to look out for him, I took Arni for a walk. The eastern neighbors were more or less safe. The dragon queen had given everybody the freedom of the city. She might have been hoping to see how many elves got themselves swallowed by her giant lake monster or carried off by leucrottas. But really I think she wanted to tempt them with her treasure hoard.

  Whenever a couple of the elves got too close to the Amphitheater, I warned 'em off. "Don't go in there," I'd say. "You think she can't see you because she's flying way over there, but she'll know. You touch so much as a coin in there, and she'll eat you."

  They pretended to listen or told me off. Some shot back with the Elven words I'd learned best, which gave me an excuse to shoot them the tines or the big smile. When those ones snuck back later thinking I wasn't looking, I didn't tell 'em a second time.

  Zuldana spent a lot of time gliding over the city. She said it was to survey the damage, but I think she was keeping an eye on things. She might have struck an alliance with Telandia, but that didn't mean she trusted her followers after the stunt Amarandlon pulled. I was still sorting out the details of what everybody in our little gang had really wanted.

  It seemed like Fim—he still didn't like me calling him that, but too bad for him—really did just want to find his old friend again. No matter how spooky he looked on the outside, you could tell by the way he laughed from time to time that he was getting back to his old self. Maybe not "unbleaching," exactly, but remembering how to enjoy life. Something like that.

  The boss told me Oparal was always the agent of the queen, just like she'd said. I wanted to know why she'd been crying after her audience with Zuldanavox. He said it was harder for her to deal with a dragon than it was for the rest of us. After all, none of the rest of us was above deception to get our own way. I wanted to argue that point, but we'd done our share of lying to the others, me and the boss.

  Kemeili had a different opinion. She came looking for me one night, but it wasn't a tumble she had in mind.

  "You have to tell Varian something's wrong. There is no way Queen Telandia would choose a Forlorn as her agent. She already had me."

  "Yeah, maybe so. But sometimes back in Egorian, when my old boss was running a hustle, he'd send in two of us to do the same job. One was there to draw off all the attention while the other got the job done."

  "But that doesn't make sense," she said. "I was told nothing about Amarandlon's scheme. Those clerics were in league with him, yet nobody told me—"

  It was beginning to dawn on her. Kemeili wasn't going to like it when she realized Telandia sent her as the decoy, knowing she'd draw everybody's attention away from Oparal, the agent that she really trusted.

  The clever part was picking Oparal in the first place, knowing that none of the elves would like a Forlorn but also guessing that none of them would imagine the queen chose the paladin as her real agent. Everybody would be looking at the "youngest inquisitor ever chosen," especially when that was a woman whose biggest talent was making everybody pay attention to her. I didn't want to be around when Kemeili had the rest of it figured out, so I said, "Yeah. It's a real puzzler."

  "When we return to Iadara, you won't tell anyone that I was deceived by my own people, will you?"

  "Listen, sweeth
eart, I don't think I'll be sticking around long after the boss gets his carriage back."

  "All right, but until then, we'll finally have time to spend together." She put on that little girl voice that used to get my attention before it started to get old. "I'll show you the most secret parts of the city."

  "I don't know. There's going to be a lot going on. With Amarandlon back at court, the boss is going to need an extra set of eyes on his back. I've got to be there for him."

  "He'll be under Telandia's protection," she said. "No one will dare hurt him."

  "Still, I'll feel better if I keep an eye on him."

  Her eyes opened wide as she realized we were having The Talk, and she wasn't the one giving it, she was the one getting it. "You're done with me!"

  "Don't think of it that way. I didn't figure we'd have more than that first night, and look at all the fun we've had since then."

  "You really did want to escape after Iadara!"

  "Well, you know, you're a busy gal yourself, what with all your inquisiting and beguiling. We could use a break."

  "A break!"

  "Listen, I can see you've got a lot on your mind. I'm just going to go back up to the manor and see how things are coming along—"

  "Fine." She spun around and walked toward the aiudara. I enjoyed the view for a minute but didn't sigh in relief until I was damned sure she couldn't hear me.

  Oparal was nowhere to be found, which was just as well. I don't know why I even thought about talking to her again. Now that I'd made an actual compact with a devil, even if it was to come back to the City of Thorns and help fight the demon horde, I didn't see us getting friendly. Her unicorn hated me, her sword hated me, and I didn't see any reason why she wouldn't hate me more than ever.

  Apart from that, I was feeling surprisingly good about the whole situation. Sure, Viridio had an open door to "ride" me whenever I called on his sigil. Whatever that was—I already knew it wasn't fire. The boss and I tested that theory right away with a hot skillet. He wanted to do a bunch more tests. There was a time I would have begged off, but I was starting to think it was a good idea to know more about the hows and whys of my bad ancestry.

  More than that, I wanted to find out more about this child the devils mentioned.

  "Devils lie," the boss reminded me. After I'd told him about what I'd learned in the little hell, he'd acted at least as concerned as he was curious. Or maybe he was just biding his time before he proposed a whole 'nother series of experiments to do on me.

  "I know," I said. "But they tell enough of the truth to make it hard to know when they're lying."

  He couldn't argue with that.

  "You've just found your father," I said. "Now it looks like I've got a kid somewhere. At least one. That imp made a good point. If that potion was a phony, I could have hundreds of brats by now."

  "Surely not hundreds."

  "I don't spend so much time in the library as you do."

  He couldn't argue with that, either.

  On our last day in the city, Zuldana said her goodbyes and made a pointed reminder that she expected a visit from the boss that winter. As we headed down to the aiudara, I looked up for one last view of the dome. I spotted something hanging from one of those arm-length barbs high above us. The boss loaned me his spyglass, and I focused it on the shape of one of those looters I'd warned off.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  "Nothing," I told him. "She's just redecorating."

  The briar dome sagged in a lot of places, but in others Variel had already begun restoring the vines with his magic. It wasn't going to look the same anytime soon, but it sure looked like it belonged to a Queen of Thorns.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The First Sting

  Varian

  Turning left," said Variel, guiding me by the elbow.

  He and Fimbulthicket led me blindfolded through the labyrinthine passages of Queen Telandia's palace. They had wanted Radovan as well, but they arrived moments after he had left for a visit to the temple baths. While he made a show of taking his toothbrush, I doubted his principal motivation for the visit was a question of hygiene. We had not seen Kemeili since our return to Iadara, and I sensed Radovan regretted their parting words.

  Even blindfolded and without my bodyguard, I followed Variel and Fimbulthicket in complete faith. Since our return to Iadara, I had begun to see Variel less as a father figure and more as an elder brother—an equally strange relationship to one who had in all his long life known neither sire nor sibling.

  "Steps," said the gnome. "Three, two, one, there you go."

  The morning sun warmed my face as we moved out of doors. I heard the clop of hooves on stone and smelled horses. More faintly I heard the rustle of silk and the whispers of a hushed audience.

  Although the whole business seemed absurd, I felt an unexpected excitement at the ritual. When the druids came to fetch me, I knew the surprise awaiting me could only be the Red Carriage. Yet once I donned the blindfold and allowed them to lead me from my room, anticipation built in my heart. I recalled the day my mother led me down the stairs of Greensteeples, bidding me to close my eyes before she led me to the drive. By the time we reached our destination, I felt as breathless as the horses sounded.

  "You may remove the blindfold," said Variel.

  Blinking in the sunlight, I gazed in astonishment at the sight before me.

  Inside the courtyard crowded a group of elves, many of whom I half-recognized from the Midsummer Masquerade. They wore no masks, but their clothing was no less splendid than at that celebration. They wore gowns of gossamer, robes of living flowers, and coats of leather so vibrant they resembled living hide. The women wore headdresses to put the most splendid peacock to shame, strings of gemstones sparkling in imitation of waterfalls, and tiny fairies perched in swings formed of hair braids.

  All eyes remained on me as I took in the sight of my restored carriage. The red wooden body was unmistakably similar, but for an instant I feared it was an entirely new vehicle. The lustrous red wood was the same, but the carriage was half again its original size. Variel had incorporated its salvaged parts throughout an expanded structure. He had preserved the lamps and added six more to the upper corners and the sides. Brass shone at the new handles and fittings.

  Both front and back boots had been much enlarged. The driver's seat now featured a wide dashboard with built-in compartments and several mysterious consoles within arm's reach. At the rear, the footman's perch now included sturdy seats and metal hooks to either side of the message compartment.

  To the original doors adorned with the Jeggare family crest, Variel had added two more emblazoned with an elegant silhouette of a slender tower beside a waterfall. From what he had described of his family's home, I surmised the crest represented the Morgethai family of Riverspire.

  Fimbulthicket hopped up on a carriage step and opened the doors. Within the carriage Variel had widened both the fore and aft couches and added a single seat to either side between the winged doors. While once the carriage could house only four passengers comfortably, now it could accommodate eight. Fimbulthicket stepped inside and unfolded a clever table of the same deep red wood as the carriage body.

  With so many features added to its already considerable weight, the carriage required a larger team. One had been provided: yoked to the lengthened tongue of the vehicle stood six massive draft horses with deep bay coats and feathered black fetlocks.

  Speechless, I turned to Variel. "I would never have imagined you could exceed the original."

  His proud smile was yet another reward. "I have learned a few new techniques in the past century, and from what you have told me of your recent travels, I imagined you could use the extra room."

  "Where did you find such magnificent horses?"

  A profound bass responded from behind me. "Her Majesty suggested you would need a team of strong horses. These are finest of my herd, a gift to our invaluable friend from the Empire."

  Even before I
turned, I recognized the voice of Prince Amarandlon. The guards at his sides wore the queen's violet and green, not his personal colors. I knew that the indignity of a royal escort was only a fraction of the vengeance he would suffer for his disloyalty. His gift of priceless horses was another. While he maintained an expression of perfect cordiality, I sensed hatred seething beneath the mask. One day, I knew, he would unleash his own revenge on me.

  I bowed to him in the elven style. He responded with a shallow nod, the privilege of his rank. Even that scant courtesy rankled, I saw in his eyes. Had I inherited my father's caution, I should have withdrawn without another word. Yet I did not wish this oath-breaker to imagine I feared his vengeance.

  "Whenever I look out from my carriage and see these fine animals walking forward, I shall think of you."

  I regretted Radovan was not present to see Amarandlon form the thin smile of a man who understands he has just been called a horse's ass.

  "I shall think of you also, Count Jeggare. May Calistria grant us another meeting." He withdrew swiftly, sparing me the obligation to continue our badinage.

  Some of the attendant lords and ladies slipped away to avoid the appearance of favoring the foreign interloper over their disgraced prince. The rest remained, more curious than cautious, or perhaps so bold as to stand apart from Prince Amarandlon's camp. I consigned their faces to my memory library in hopes that one day I would find allies among them. The elves do not soon forget an enmity, and they live far longer than human patience.

  Variel took me by the arm and turned me away from my retreating enemy. "Whatever else one might say of the prince, he breeds the finest horses in Kyonin. While the queen's command was certainly meant to punish him, it was also meant to honor you."

  "What are the chances one of them is a basilisk hidden under an illusion?"

  "The queen had her wizards examine the animals for any such surprises."

  I sought his face for some sign that he was joking but spied none. When he finally cracked a smile, it was at Fimbulthicket, who had climbed onto the driver's perch and slapped the reins over the team. The carriage jolted forward, tipping the gnome back into the seat.