by NS Dolkart
The wizard stood in the small field of grain that took the place of a courtyard, her remaining kin beside her. Hunter, the black godserf that Eleven and her compatriots had captured so easily eleven years ago, now stood at the wizard’s side with a sickle that no godserf had made. On the wizard’s other side stood a young woman with a spear, and behind her an older one with a bow. Three more spearmen took one side or the other of the wizard, and at the back, Eleven saw two children and their unarmed mother. This must be all that remained of the godserfs in this world.
That was highly unfortunate. Ten godserfs and nine elves made nineteen, an inauspicious number. Twenty would have been better. It would have been right. The godserfs were missing someone. Eleven and nine, it should have been.
The queen spoke. “Well, wizard?” she said. “You told my servant that you had a solution to our problem.”
“Yes,” the wizard replied. “Where is that servant, by the way?”
“His untainted heart is within me. The rest of him may help sustain our castle a while longer.”
“Have you come to regret your greed yet? My people did you no harm, and did not threaten you in any way, yet you could not wait even until our worlds were saved before you turned on them. How does your greed feel, now that you know how I defended them?”
“More ambitious. Next time I shall eat you.”
The wizard waved an arm dismissively. “There will be no next time. The power your court lost did not simply dissipate, elf queen. I command it now. Displease me, and I will turn it on you.”
Raider Eleven frowned. The wizard’s attitude projected conviction, but her aura held barely any more power than her fellow godserfs. Could she be bluffing? Her mental defenses were too strong for Eleven to be sure. The one odd thing about the wizard’s aura was its ragged, uneven shape, but the Queen’s Consort could see no reason for that to imply greater power, certainly not the power of an entire court.
The other godserfs didn’t doubt the wizard, and Eleven was surprised and pleased to see how much they despised her for it. Aside from Hunter, the godserfs seemed to hate and fear Psander almost as much as they did the queen. That could prove useful.
“We shall see,” the queen said. “But tell me your solution, wizard. I will not ask a third time.”
The wizard Psander nodded. “Our problem does not lie in the closing distance between our worlds, nor in their combination. That much is fortunate, because both are inevitable. Goodweather is unable to stop the worlds’ merger, and Illweather is unwilling. But this is of no consequence, because our real problem is the mesh between the worlds. That is what threatens to destroy us. Unravel it, and the problem disappears.”
“Our whole world slips through the barrier,” the queen said, greed in her voice. Oh to laugh at the Gods and feast every night! “Tell me how.”
“It will take all the Yarek’s strength and all our cunning. You will have to convince both castles to help us, while Phaedra on the other side consults with Goodweather’s seed. After the castles have both agreed to our plan, I will commence opening the last gate at regular intervals. When Goodweather’s seed is ready to join us, it will send a signal and we will work together to pull the gate so wide that the entire barrier tears apart and releases us into the other world.”
“You would send me to Illweather, when that castle ate my brother?”
“Of course. I have no interest in revisiting the place. This is my home, and the last time I left it, you betrayed me.”
The queen laughed. “You didn’t mind losing those other godserfs. They were a weapon, and they served their only purpose when I, unsuspecting, took them. Do not pretend that you are anything but pleased at the result.”
Yes, that was the way to do it. The other godserfs, who already hated their leader, would distract her. Raider Eleven could use that distraction.
Eleven had been busy during the conversation, delving into Hunter’s mind for information. She had been rewarded with thoughts and memories, images of mushrooms and metallic pendants, spreading skin lesions and an overturned cask. She knew now how Psander had poisoned the Goodweather court, and more importantly, she knew that it could not happen again.
She also understood how Psander could claim to possess that court’s magic. What Raider Eleven had mistaken for an uneven, ragged aura, was the result of the many tethers Psander had connected to her person. The court’s magic was not within her, as her words had suggested, but rather within the walls of her fortress, ready to be called upon at a moment’s notice. If the queen could distract the wizard enough, Raider Eleven would be able to slip those tethers away from her.
“I am not pleased,” the wizard said. “I would much rather have known that I could trust you to prioritize your existence over your appetites, that I would never have to waste precious energy defending my people from your foolishness. The power I stole from you could have been used to make our transition to the other world easier and more certain; now I have to use it against you instead. Even now I have to use it against you.”
She turned to Raider Eleven. “Don’t think that I haven’t noticed you over there, elf woman. You fairies have been masters of your domain for too long – you lack subtlety as badly as you lack innovation. Queen, I am afraid I must banish you all from this place, permanently. I hereby turn your mastery of your world back on you. Within these walls, the ground will not support you; the air will not sustain you; the warmth will not penetrate your skin. Leave, before you perish.”
As she spoke, the wizard’s aura flashed and a flood of magic crashed in on the queen and her companions. The air grew suddenly cold, so cold that it froze Raider Eleven’s skin, and when she exhaled in shock, she found that she could not inhale again. Her steed stumbled and began to slowly sink into the ground.
The elves pulled hard on the reins and rode their horses back out of the wizard’s fortress, choking and gasping. The horses’ hooves barely found purchase and solid ground seemed to sink farther and farther beneath the surface as they went, so that by the time they reached the place where the gate should have been, they had sunk up to their bellies and could not climb back out. Raider Eleven had to leap from her horse’s back to reach solid ground, and one of her companions nearly sank in with his, his eyes rolling as he succumbed to the loss of breath. Raider Eleven had to impale him through the back and drag him out with her sickle, or he too would have disappeared into the soft earth.
The queen, safe and recovered, looked down on him with scorn. “Heal that wound,” she commanded, as he opened his eyes. “And get up. You’re making a nuisance of yourself.”
He was still trying to obey her commands when Psander appeared at the window above them. “Next time you wish to speak with me,” she said, “stay outside the walls. Return when you have assurance that both castles will help us.”
Goodweather was easy. The queen gave it Psander’s message and the dying castle practically bloomed at the thought of saving its friend, that wicked child Bandu. They had always known this part would be simple.
But when they came to Illweather, its roots thrashing and its thunderstorm stretching across half the sky, even the queen was afraid to approach.
“Raider Eleven,” she commanded, “make our offer to your castle. Illweather is an old enemy: it will not listen to my voice.”
Raider Eleven was not accustomed to the taste of elven fear, let alone from a monarch. The queen’s reticence shook her almost as much as the thought of coming within striking distance of the castle that had swallowed her prince. If we are so weakened that our little cousins outmagic us and our own castles make us shake with fear, then our time is truly at an end.
But as the queen commanded, so must Raider Eleven obey. She approached the castle cautiously, feeling the roots shift beneath her feet, ready to leap back at any moment. Too easily could she imagine the castle swallowing her and telling the queen that if she meant to speak with it, she could do so herself.
She felt the roots bursting fro
m the ground behind her and did not even turn around. “Illweather!” she cried. “I am here to offer you your revenge!”
Foolish elf, you are but a morsel. What revenge you can offer me, I can easily take for myself.
“I offer revenge against the Gods that left us here, against Their king who tore you asunder. Listen to my offer before you dismiss it. You will thank me.”
The castle scoffed. The Gods will taste my revenge regardless, edible fool. The days may be long, but my revenge is coming.
“The revenge I offer you is swift.”
A bolt of lightning struck the ground nearby, and the bells in Eleven’s hair tinkled as every folicle responded.
Speak.
“The godserf wizard wishes to unravel the barrier between the worlds. With your help, and the help of Goodweather’s seed in the younger world, we can avoid the calamity that would set your revenge back by eons. You can have unification now.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Illweather was laughing.
Do you and your queen think that you will survive my unification? Go, morsel. Tell the wizard I accept.
Raider Eleven bowed and retreated, shaking. She had not even reached the queen when Illweather’s parting words came booming across the sky.
There is no future for elves in the world I will grow on my enemy’s carcass. Even weak, kindhearted Goodweather despises your kind.
The words reverberated through Raider Eleven’s soul. All the way back to the wizard’s ruined fortress, and from there to Castle Goodweather, she pondered what Illweather had said. Even later, as she was pleasing the queen, she could not help but wonder whether they had delayed their own doom by more than a few days, a few weeks. When the queen commanded her to speak, her worries poured forth like blood from a vein.
The queen listened thoughtfully, attentive but unconcerned. “You did not listen to the laments of those we captured,” she said.
“I beg your pardon, my queen?”
“The wizard did not come here to plague us, Raider Eleven. She spent years hiding from her Gods’ sight and slipped into this world so that she could avoid Them even longer. She did so with less power than we possess and sustained her defenses for decades.
“We can learn to disappear as the wizard did. Elves were made to contrast with our surroundings, but we need not remain so: our magic is strong, and Goodweather remains obligated to help us. We will use the last of its days to perfect our transformation, and when the unified Yarek or its divine enemies turn their attention to our destruction, they will not see us. Do not fear, Queen’s Consort. We will live on.”
As the queen had spoken, so did her subjects obey. Day by day, week by week, quake after calamitous quake, the lords of the first creation taught themselves to disappear. They learned to carry their auras hidden deep within them, leaving no footprint and no trace of magic where they walked. They spied on the wizard’s walls, studying her fortress’ defenses as best they could from the outside, hoping to learn how she had hidden from the Gods for so long, adapting what they could for their own use. Expanding their knowledge was an unfamiliar pastime after centuries of decadent stagnation, but they took to it well. Soon their castle no longer knew whether they were within it or without, and the queen commanded that they visit Illweather once more.
This time, the roots did not shift under their feet. The lightning crackled elsewhere. The elves dodged between raindrops and nearly brushed the mossy walls with their clothes, and Illweather did not note their presence. When they were once again outside the storm’s reach, their cries of triumph echoed through the forest. This world might soon be gone, absorbed, repurposed, but the elves would live on.
The elves would live on.
31
Hunter
“So that’s it?” Hunter asked. “We’re safe?”
“Of course we’re not safe,” Psander snapped at him. “We still need to unravel the mesh and survive the transition, and when that is done we will be back in a land of vengeful Gods, except that this time we’ll also have the Yarek threatening to devour us – assuming its inevitable war against the Gods doesn’t consume us first. We are not safe, Hunter. We will never be safe.”
“I meant from the elves.”
“Well then, within such extremely narrow parameters, yes, we’re safe. Enjoy your unearned feelings of relief.”
She turned back to gaze out the window as Hunter eyed the elven sickle in his hands.
“Then my part is done. You don’t need me anymore.”
His comment drew her attention far more than he’d expected or prepared himself for. Psander abandoned whatever dark thoughts had preoccupied her and stared at him long and hard, her face expressionless. Hunter stood uncomfortably, waiting for her to speak. He didn’t think the wizard had ever looked at him like this, trying to see him instead of that imaginary warrior-tool who occupied his place in her mind.
“I am no longer in need of a bodyguard,” Psander said at last, her words slow and careful. “But there is still work to be done. We must see if the stores in the cellar are sufficient to sustain us until Phaedra finds success, which should take several weeks – unless, that is, the synchronization between that world and this one is a good deal further off than I thought. The skyquakes will only get stronger in that time, so I will need your help moving my library downstairs. After that, it may be worthwhile to demolish the top floors stone by stone, before any quake can drop them on our heads. You have completed your most important task, but you need not be idle.”
“Oh,” Hunter said. “I… I was hoping to be idle for a while.”
The wizard looked at him quizzically, but before she could speak again they heard the footfalls of the others marching up the stairs toward them. The villagers were done waiting.
“Psander,” Ketsa said, arriving at the top of the stairs first. “The elves are gone. It’s time for you to face what you’ve done to us.”
“You mean saved you from annihilation?” Psander asked. The scorn in her voice was so palpable and so short-sighted, it made Hunter wince.
“I mean lied to us. I mean that you told us we would be safe here, when you knew we wouldn’t. That you said we’d be free from bandits, when you were the only bandit we really had to fear. You sent the Gallant Ones to drive us into your arms – we’ve known it for years. You said all we had to do was to supply you with food, but you took much more than that. You took our health for your defenses; you took our bodies for your weapons; you took us from our Gods and fed us to the fairies.”
“And every step of the way,” Tritika added, “you said we should be grateful.”
She stepped forward to let another person through behind her. The villagers were crowding onto the landing, trying to fit too many people into the narrow space by the window.
“You’ve put us off for years,” Ketsa said. “There’s always been some reason why you couldn’t talk. Well, it’s time for you to answer us. It’s time for your trial. Come with us, unless you want to get pushed out.”
Hunter could see Psander weighing her options, and prayed that she wouldn’t lash out. With all that fairy magic at her command, there was no knowing what she might be able to do to his friends. He saw her glance at him, and he shook his head. She needed to know that he would not support her if she chose to fight. Their demands were perfectly reasonable – he would not stand in their way.
If she did lash out, would Ketsa really push her out the window?
Evidently, Psander decided not to risk it. Hunter had never seen the wizard grant anyone the last word, but she came away from the window silently and descended the stairs between Ketsa and Tritika. Hunter took the rear as they all marched down the steps, crammed one behind the other. He hoped this went well. Psander no longer needed a deterrent against the elves – if she felt threatened enough, this “trial” could end horribly.
There were torches all around the great hall, shedding their ruddy light over the entire room. Hunter didn’t think he’d ever see
n so much torchlight in this place, accustomed as he now was to magical illumination. There was an honesty and a savagery in the sight, sound, and smell of burning wood. Every human in the elves’ world was gathered there: Ketsa, Tritika, and the other bodyguards – all still holding their weapons – and beside them, Atella with Persada in her arms and Tarin at her side, watching silently.
Psander surveyed the room coldly. “What do you mean to accomplish here?” she asked. “You must know that this ‘trial’ is meaningless. If I had to, I could turn the elves’ magic against you. To what purpose do you presume to judge me?”
“We want a reckoning!” Ketsa answered. She had clearly become the leader of the remaining villagers, and she remained uncowed even in the face of Psander’s threat. “For once in your life, we want you to be honest with us. We want you to admit the whole truth of what you did to us, and when you’re done, we want you to apologize. Yes, apologize. Without your actions, we would have stayed safe and unmolested in the village where I grew up. You may tell yourself that you’ve protected us from elves or armies, but you were the one who put us in those dangers to begin with.”
“I was,” Psander said. “I will admit that much.”
“Admit everything,” Palat growled. “Say what you did to us.”
“If it pleases you.”
Ketsa met her skepticism with forceful affirmation. “It does.”
“Very well,” Psander said. “I saw your little village, so near to where I had built my fortress, and I sent the Gallant Ones to harass you so that you might come and serve me. I lied, if it pleases you to hear it. I told the Gallant Ones that I would help them retake Atuna when I had no intention of doing so, and I led you all to believe that I was a male wizard, so that I could project more power. I will let you judge for yourself how ridiculous it is that I should have needed to do so.
“I did not lie when I said I only wanted to share your food, since at the time that was all I needed from you. I didn’t strike upon the idea of using your latent magic for my defenses until Phaedra surprised me by bringing not only calardium but blueglow mushrooms back from her expedition into the mountains.”