by Ken Scholes
And my father, too. He’d been angry about that, as well. He had been angry, it seemed, over many things.
But now the anger leaked out of him and left him with a mix of other emotions that kept him from wondering at the sun upon his wings and the smell of the Ghosting Crests in his wide, flared nostrils. Sorrow and weariness vied for first place in his heart.
I was already weary when it started. He remembered those nights after Windwir fell, unable to sleep, longing for a rest that would not come until the war was finished. Back then, he’d had no idea how long that war would last, how many turns it would take through the Whymer Maze of Tam intrigues and Y’Zirite infiltration to the place where he now rode within a kin-dragon to sit at the side of his dying queen and bring his son back home.
If it could be done. The Androfrancine pathogen was thorough. But now, more than ever before, he found Isaak’s words coming back to him. Words he couldn’t conjure in the depths of his grief before: to trust him and to trust the dream. But more than that, Rudolfo would trust that between all of the resources they now had, a solution would be found.
Or I will build an aqueduct and bring new water in.…
Or, if need be, rule his people from afar.
Whatever came, Rudolfo would find life in it for himself and his son. Very different, he suspected, than the one he’d lived before. He’d spent most of his reigning years learning to balance his sorrow against the pleasures he had once vigorously pursued. He couldn’t imagine going back to those days now, awakening in a tangle of limbs to breakfast with the prostitutes he’d kept on his rotation. Now the idea of simply waking up to the sound of a household still sleeping to check on his son before slipping out into a predawn forest to walk the morning dark seemed far more appealing. The notion of spending his evenings with a stack of books was far more appealing than a night of sweating and frolicking. And he knew it was war that had changed him.
The war and the truths it brought to the surface of our hearts.
He didn’t notice the landscape changing, or the transition from night to day, until they began to slow and lose altitude. Once they hovered over a small collection of buildings, the sun was high in the sky, though it had only been a handful of hours since they’d left Windwir.
Rudolfo felt the ground beneath his paws, and then as the kin-dragon reared up, he felt a pop in his skull and experienced a strange vertigo as he was suddenly in his own body again and wobbling on the ground.
Petronus and Winters stood beside him, and the now-young Pope guided them both toward the man and the mechoservitors who waited for them.
“I am Cyril Thrall,” the man said. “I will see you to New Espira.”
Rudolfo hadn’t asked for more detail and did not know exactly what he would find. He knew she had made some kind of bargain and that it had allowed her to save the children and this so-called Grandmother Tree, but he also knew that the ambassador wished to begin talks immediately to establish sanctuary for part of a population that would lose its home in the decades ahead, though most of the New Espirans would gradually relocate to the moon. So however things had gone, there had been losses. But he had more questions than answers, and for now, seeing his son and seeing off his queen were the weights that held him solid.
He followed the man into one of the buildings and down the hatch. The Beneath Places were no wonder to him any more. But this tree and the pool were different. He ate the fruit and followed the man’s instructions.
Rudolfo’s feet didn’t want to obey him, but he forced them out into the pond and was not prepared for the sudden rush of light that swept him away, twisting and spinning, before bringing him back to fall into waiting arms in a pool that was no longer underground but in the shadow of a vast and dying tree beneath a sun that seemed wrong to him somehow.
Neb steadied him and drew him to his feet, guiding him to the shore as they walked upon the surface of the silver liquid. An older woman was doing the same for Petronus and Winters.
The boy had grown into a man in short order. He towered over Rudolfo, his white hair tied back to reveal a face devoid of injury despite the evidence of battle about the clearing. Even now, men in uniform carried bodies away as others stood about the tree assessing damage.
Aedric awaited him on the shore, and Rudolfo saw a look upon his face that told him the man knew he’d earned his general’s ire. But it was his best friend’s son, and he’d learned to find the right path and choose it from a king who had been more of an uncle to him.
Aedric had known he couldn’t stop her effectively, and so he’d done the next best thing and joined her. He was here now and had managed to stay alive through it all. Rudolfo embraced the first captain of his Gypsy Scouts. “It is good to see you, Aedric.”
The younger man looked away, his eyes darker than normal. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to see them safely home to you, General.”
Rudolfo released him and squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll see them home together.” Or find a new one. He looked around for his family again. Neb was embracing Winters now, lifting her from the ground in his embrace as he kissed her. The sight of that new love reunited was yet another counterbalance to his own moment.
Petronus extended his hand. “Rudolfo, I wish we met under better circumstances. I hope the flight was comfortable; I’m still learning how to do this.”
Rudolfo took the hand and flashed a smile he hoped would not show as false. “The flight was magnificent, Father,” he said, “and our circumstances have rarely been good.” The man’s grip was strong now, and suddenly Rudolfo remembered riding down the old man as he tried to sneak out of the Ninefold Forest, on his way to Caldus Bay after Sethbert’s trial to establish a network and dig deeper into the mystery of Windwir’s fall. They’d had a conversation there upon the road, and Rudolfo had been angry then. He’d asked the man for a new Pope and instead had found himself inheriting an orphaned Order. But brief words about backward dreams and honoring lies had drained Rudolfo’s anger then, and he was glad for it because it was the beginning of a new truth for him and life was not finished taking him down its ever-changing Whymer Maze of paths.
“This is Administrator Gras. She is the elected leader of the New Espiran Expeditionary Council.”
Rudolfo’s eyebrows raised as he took her offered hand. “Administrator. I look forward to talking with you and the ambassador in the very near future.”
She inclined her head. “Yes, Lord Rudolfo. But for now, Lady Tam and Lord Jakob are waiting for you.” She looked over to Winters. “She’ll want to see you as well, Lady Winteria. I’ll come for you when it’s time.”
The girl—no, Rudolfo corrected himself, the young woman—blushed, and Neb did, too. He smiled but hoped they didn’t see that it was to hide a wound and not to share their joy. “Take me to my family,” he said.
They picked their way across the clearing to the edge of the forest, away from the tree and from the scars of battle. Many of the signs of violence had been removed already but for the two heads that sat upon the shore of a silver pond, a pike of some variety shaped of coral or seashell thrust into the ground between them. He recognized Ria and looked away. The other was the woman who had rescued Ria and killed Orius.
“Gods,” he muttered.
“They thought they were,” the administrator said. “Lady Tam wanted these left as they are, but I am hoping you will dissuade her of that. It isn’t our way.”
She took off their heads. Rudolfo released his breath slowly, uncertain why this bothered him. He, who’d only recently enjoyed listening to the screams of his enemy. And not just then but all of the evenings he’d spent in the observation deck of Tormentor’s Row, listening to the Physicians of Penitent Torture doing their redemptive work. Back then, he’d no idea it was part of a bond to Y’Zir that held meaning within a framework of faith. But still, it was violence.
And this was violence—brutal, surely—but it was at least in service to something tangible.
He took his
eyes from the heads and once more followed the administrator. “I will speak to her about it. I’m certain it was a request based in a moment of emotion that has now passed.”
And Winters would want to bury her sister. Probably here, where she had fallen, if they would allow it. And if Jin Li Tam truly could not be saved, he would see her home to the Ninefold Forest. He felt tears again and distracted himself with another look around the clearing. “Where is Isaak?”
The administrator pointed to a pond where several men in a different type of uniform gathered. “He is in the pond being repaired. Lord Whym was able to initiate the cycle.” Her eyes flashed to life for a moment. “It has radical implications for our own mechoservitors and other ancient artifacts we’ve found that we’ve been unable to repair.”
Rudolfo blinked through her words. “And he will be fully functional?”
“Yes, we suspect so. It was Lord Whym’s access that allowed his reconstitution in the first place. Our use of the blood of the earth and what you call the bargaining pools is advanced but still limited. Amal Y’Zir granted our people access, but it was access already largely curtailed by the events of the Downunder War.”
Ahead, at the edge of the forest, Rudolfo saw a blanket and two figures waiting upon it. He could not help himself. He broke into a run, moving past the administrator. Somewhere in all of those few seconds, Jin Li Tam stood with Jakob in her arms and Rudolfo fell upon them both, laughing and weeping as he crushed them to himself and let his body and his heart quake with the power of that reunion.
Rudolfo was not certain how long they stood there in that embrace. But when they finally sat upon the blanket, he saw that Administrator Gras had quietly excused herself. As they sat, Jakob crawled over into his lap and started playing with his beard. “Papa.”
Rudolfo chuckled and inhaled the smell of him, then took him in. He’d grown in the months since he’d seen him, but he looked exactly as he had in the dreams. “It is good to see you, my little prince.” He looked over to Jin Li Tam through a haze of tears. “And you as well, my queen.”
She inclined her head, and her hair like a sunrise rushed over her shoulders. She wore a silver robe now like ones Neb and Petronus wore; and like Neb, her body showed no signs of battle whatsoever. But her eyes held vast sadness in them, along with her tears, and she took a breath. “I have many words, Rudolfo, but the most important are that I’m sorry.”
Rudolfo shook his head. “Those are not words that need saying now.” He looked at Jakob’s smile. He has no idea that he is losing her. Then again, he was young and his memory of her would be hazy if he remembered her at all. Jakob would not have the same, sharp memory of a twelve-year-old boy watching his mother die. Or his father. That fateful night was a memory that had haunted Rudolfo most of his life.
“No, my love,” she said. “They do need saying. I should have trusted you. I should not have left with our son.” She paused. “I was a terrible wife.”
Rudolfo inclined his head and let that be his gesture of acceptance now. Because in this moment, he could not fathom being angry with her. “You are a formidable queen and a fierce mother,” he said. “And the administrator wishes me to discuss your recent victory.”
He watched the color rise to her cheeks. “Yes. I’m hoping they can take care of that before it’s time to bring Jakob back.” Her eyes met his. “They meant to harm him, and I’d only just learned that my father hadn’t killed him. I could not bear to lose him a second time.” She held his gaze a moment too long, and he saw the tears start before she looked away. “For either of us,” she said.
Rudolfo stared at his son. On the surface, he bore Rudolfo’s dark skin and hair and eyes. But he had the willowy grace and long limbs of his mother, and Rudolfo knew he would be tall like her. “You did what needed doing. As queens and mothers will.”
And as the forty-second daughter of Vlad Li Tam must, he thought but did not say.
Her brow furrowed and she looked up. “I do not have long, but there is more to discuss. Walk with me?”
She stood, and he stood with her, holding Jakob. She took his hand and led him back across the meadow to where the administrator waited with others. Rudolfo shielded Jakob’s eyes as they passed Jin’s handiwork there upon the shore and noticed that Isaak—shining and new—stood now with Neb, Winters and Petronus at the base of the tree. He also saw another woman holding a child who could have easily been Jakob’s sibling.
Jin Li Tam stopped in front of the woman. “This is Chandra and her daughter.” He watched her take a breath before saying the name, but he knew the name instantly. “Amara Y’Zir.”
“Yes,” Rudolfo said. “The Crimson Empress.” The two children reached for one another.
“They need refuge, and I am hoping you will offer them a home in the Ninefold Forest,” Jin said.
Chandra’s scars brought home a realization that he hadn’t even considered. “I’m not sure where our home will be,” he said. “The Androfrancine weapon has poisoned the water of the Named Lands for anyone exposed to blood magicks. I have the mechoservitors tasked with a solution.” He glanced to the tree and the New Espirans and Isaak. “I’m certain we will find a path.”
The voice in Rudolfo’s head was a surprise, and he jumped. The children will be fine, it said. They have my blessing, and immunity is in their birthright.
Rudolfo followed the voice, but before he could find it, it filled his head. Now bring him to me for my last bargain.
He looked around. “Who is—”
Jin Li Tam squeezed his hand. “It’s the Grandmother Tree. And she’s right. Jakob and Amara are more like Winters and Neb than they are you and me.” She pulled at him. “Come and meet her. She saved us.”
He let her lead him to the side of the tree. The others followed. The bark split open, and waving hands ushered them inside. Come in and bear witness, Children.
And now finally, as Rudolfo clutched his laughing son close to him and let Jin Li Tam lead him into the pink and meaty orifice of a massive talking tree, he felt the first stirrings of wonder. There in the red light of her beating heart, he saw the Firstfall Axe bound up in pale roots and held above a giant pulsing thing that he thought must surely be a heart.
The heart of the world, Rudolfo thought. But even that wonder was nothing compared to the warm life he clutched close to him in the red light of that place.
He looked at Jin Li Tam, and when their eyes met something wordless passed between them. Rudolfo knew in that moment that he was unlikely to ever sit in the quiet with her and his son again, but the sorrow of that realization was swallowed by the words that filled his head. Time is of the essence, Children of Lasthome, and the Time of the Sowing is at hand. The People are restored to their heritage, and light is once more sown in darkness. Bear witness now to my final bargain.
And so Rudolfo stood with the others to bear witness and wondered at how finding a metal man in the ruins of Windwir could bring him so far from home in a life so far beyond his wildest imaginings. And first among those wild imaginings: How much home could change from a place into a person that Rudolfo could hold as tightly within his trembling arms as he did within his breaking heart.
Winters
They stood upon the plain now, the white tree massive and towering above them. It had begun to sing, and Winters wasn’t certain when she shifted from the warm, crowded space near the heart of the Grandmother Tree to this wide-open and familiar setting.
Here, she held the Firstfall Axe, and it was heavy in her hands. And she stood with the others—Neb to her left, Jin Li Tam to her right. Petronus stood on the other side of Neb, and Rudolfo stood with Jakob beside his queen. Isaak and Marta were also there, along with Chandra and her daughter, Amara Y’Zir. Administrator Gras stood to the side.
But the old woman hadn’t been there. At least not at first, because Winters would’ve noticed her. She looked to be at least a hundred years old, her hair long and the color of watery milk. Her eyes were green, and he
r smile was genuine. And she was completely naked.
“Hello, Children,” she said. “I would bargain with you here upon the plains of hope and home. Winteria bat Mardic, Child of Shadrus, Daughter of Salome, Last of the Dreaming Tribe, do you stand here of your own free will for the light and for its continuity to bargain in good faith?”
Winters felt something ancient in the words and in the response that welled up inside of her. “I do, Grandmother.”
The old woman reached out her hands, and Winters felt them, cold and smooth as paper in the early morning. “Then I require the return of the Firstfall Axe and offer you the healing of the world you leave behind as recompense.” Then she slowly inclined her head.
Winters returned the gesture. Then the woman squeezed her hands. The wind rose somewhere distant and whispered to her from across the plains.
Next, Grandmother approached Rudolfo and Jin Li Tam. “Myth is rooted in truth,” she told him, “and though the children of Ahm Y’Zir did their best, their restoration of your son was incomplete. He’s been given forty years to do his work, but I can extend it.” She looked at Jin Li Tam. “The price of his life has already been paid in full should you choose to apply it to his account.” Winters watched the two women and saw the older woman’s eyes narrow. “And if you apply it to his account, it will fall to him to return to me and receive the second half of his life before his first half is complete.”
Jin looked at Rudolfo, and he nodded. “Yes, apply it,” she said.
The old woman inclined her head. “It changes your ending, Great Mother. I will speak with you alone about that—and it must be soon, I’ll warrant, for time is indeed of the essence where you are concerned.”
The forty-second daughter of Vlad Li Tam inclined her head, dipping it slightly lower than the Grandmother’s. And then, the old woman stood before Rudolfo and Chandra. “I bargain with the children through you in trust. For Jakob to see his full allotment of years, he must return to me and he must carry out my final wishes; and for him to reach my heart, he will need to bring his own along.”