by Marc Secchia
At least her wings were free.
Princess Annakiya might even be jealous of her slave-girl–her former slave-girl, Shioni corrected herself with a half-hearted grin–having such an adventure on Fiuriel. She had wings! She had flown in the air like no Human ever before!
The buzzing of many wings made her glance up.
The dungeon door groaned open. A soldier snarled, “In you go. Go get comfortable with your friend, you traitors.”
“Viri?” she breathed. “Iri? Char, you didn’t.”
“Oh, we did,” said Chardal, rattling his chains. “It’s all the fashion around the Green Caverns.”
“You idiots,” she complained, realising what this meant. “You prize pollen-brains, you stupid … stupid … friends! You can’t do this. Please …”
Viridelle laughed, “You silly larva, it’s a bit late for protests, isn’t it?”
“We’ll call you a few names too, if you’d like,” sniffed Iridelle.
Shioni had not cried until now, but her throat was so tight, and the horror and delight brewing in her stomach such a toxic mess, that she could not help the tears that slid down her cheeks. What had her friends done? Why did they still believe in her?
Iri knelt beside Shioni, and wiped her cheeks with her thumbs in the Fiuri way and touched antennae. “Darling petal,” said the huge Fiuri. “You didn’t think we’d leave you? We made promises, all of us. Lord Tazaka still needs to kiss my knuckles.” She made a fist and mimed a punch, which was curtailed by her chains. “Treating my friend like a common criminal. Ha!”
Viridelle was trying to appear confident and in charge, but a suspicious sniffle seemed to catch her unawares. “Well, at least Chardal’s delighted to see you,” she said, in a tone that made the scholar change from green to pink in a heartbeat.
“What did you do to get yourselves into this dungeon–Iri, you’re hurt.”
“Caused a bit of trouble,” said Iri. “We split up and started repeating what you told Tazaka in every marketplace in Green Central.”
Viri said, “Char, can you see to Shionelle’s leg? They’ve done a terrible job on that arrow wound. Oh, Shionelle, it was almost worth it just to see you punch Tazaka in the nectar-hole. That was by several tunnels my favourite part–smack! Chop!”
Softly, Shioni said, “Call me Shioni, Viri. It’s my real name. And, you need to know I’m not really Fiuri at all.”
“Of course you are,” Iri said, stoutly.
She gazed at Chardal, working on her leg. “Iri, petal, I’m not. I’m more of a monster than you can imagine. I’m Human, I come from another world, and when I’m not masquerading as a White Fiuri, I’m so big, you’d be about the size of my hand. Look, let me tell you all about Kalcha, and what I think Tazaka’s up to–”
“How do you know Azurelle?” Char interrupted.
Shioni sighed deeply. What would her Green Fiuri friends think of her after this? “Well, my story starts in a place called Africa, which has animals you’ve never imagined, when the King of West Sheba bought me as a present for his daughter, the Princess Annakiya, to be her slave …”
When she had finished telling her tale, Viri, Iri and Char sat back, stunned.
Then the Green Hunter said, “So, you’re a Human, er, creature. With wings. Who has no idea where she comes from or who her parents are, doesn’t know much about her magic, can’t tell us how she came to be a Fiuri, and has cloudy-nectar thoughts about what wild magic is?”
“Um,” Shioni agreed.
“But we know what kind of person Shionelle is,” Iri said.
“How’s that?” asked Viri, clearly still puzzling everything through.
“We know her heart,” the big Fiuri said earnestly.
Viri snapped, “Honestly, Iridelle, I don’t know what you have in that imbecilic head of yours sometimes–”
“Shut your nectar-hole!” Everyone stared at Chardal. He never shouted, unless it was in excitement. “For once, pull your proboscis out of the detail, Viri, and listen to your sister. Iri, what were you saying?”
Viridelle nodded. “Sorry, Iri. I’m just–” she swallowed and whispered to the wall “–I might look brave, but really, I’m just … scared.”
Iri smothered her twin in a huge hug. “I do love you, wasp-tongue.”
“Love you right back, muscle-flower.”
Chardal prodded Viri in the ribs. “And you call me the soppy one?”
“Oh, come here!” Viri pulled Char into their hug. The scholar gasped as Iri’s muscular arm locked around his neck. “You too, Shionelle–Shioni. I don’t care what you are, you need a hug.”
After a while, the Fiuri untangled themselves with assorted chuckles and a clinking of chains. Char said, “Shioni, what we know is that you’re the kind of person who cares so much about her friends–”
“–you’d rather put yourself in Tazaka’s dungeon than see Cave Seventeen suffer,” said Viri.
“Well, I was going to mention a few other things,” said Char, so firmly it stopped Viri’s chuckle in her throat. “I’m sure your Human friend Annakiya would have her own story to tell, and the rest of the realm of Sheba. And I think your story is inspirational, Shioni–which also happens to be why we’re down here with you.” He clapped his hands and wings simultaneously, breaking the mood. “Now, that’s quite enough girly hugging and emotional friendship-type nonsense for one afternoon.” His audience shouted with laughter. “Because we’re in here and Tazaka’s out there and your friend the new Queen of Green is about to marry the real monster. And I want to know what we’re going to do about it? And when? Ideas?”
Looking between her friends, Shioni caught a very silly smile on Viridelle’s lips as she regarded Chardal with unguarded admiration. Uh-oh, she thought. If she was not mistaken, Chardal had just earned himself a new admirer.
Viri drawled, “For a peaceful scholar, you’re sounding rather Hunter-ish over there, Char.”
Chardal ruffled his already wild green hair with his hands, before whispering slyly, “How are those miniature Black Messenger Wasps in your wrist-guard, Green Hunter?”
“Alive,” she said, shaking her head in amazement. “How did you know–”
“A Hunter secret? Oh, come on, pollen-brain. Buzz the wings and keep up. I’m ten caverns ahead of you.”
Shioni giggled at Viridelle’s expression. What kind of wasp had bitten Chardal? The Hunter tapped her wrist, which made a very tiny humming noise. “Alive.”
“Right,” said Char. “We need your father on the case, Viri. Lord Tazaka is clearly controlling his stooges with a nectar concoction.”
“Nasty nectar?” asked Iri.
“Nasty nectar?” grinned the scholar. “Perfect description. I foresee that your father might want to favour the forthcoming royal wedding with a gift of his latest and most amazing nectar, Fiuriel’s Breath–which will be modified with a few ingredients we will send him. You see, I have closely observed Azurelle’s behaviour, and that of the other key members of Tazaka’s leadership group, and I’ll bet you one stink-flower to all the nectar in your father’s storehouse, Hunter Viridelle, that I can tell you exactly which nectars he’s blending to make everyone obey him so nicely.”
“You stole the recipe,” said Iridelle, folding her arms.
Chardal reddened.
“Char?” asked Viri, very sweetly. When she received no answer, she nodded to her twin. “Can you make that lying little larva confess, Iri?”
Iridelle cracked her knuckles purposefully, making Shioni shiver and exclaim crossly. Ouch! The boy-Fiuri flinched and found the tip of his truthful wing, as the Fiuri saying went, in a single wingbeat.
“And the legend of my brilliance was developing so nicely,” said Chardal, so mournfully that everyone laughed. “Fine. Iri, my second cousin on my father’s side is Tazaka’s servant in charge of food and tasting for poisons.”
“Aha!” Viri crowed.
But Chardal put in quietly, “And it is nasty nectar indeed, my
friends. Now, I’ve an equally nasty tingling in my wingtips that says Lord Tazaka will not let us moulder in his dungeons for long. Too much trouble, you see. He’ll want us out of the way. So, Viri, we need to send two Black Wasps to Blue Central and two to Green Seventeen. Can you arrange that?”
Viri nodded. “Dare I ask how you knew I have four Black Wasps?”
“A good Hunter is always prepared,” said Char. “Now, turn out your belt, Hunter Viridelle, and show us all those nice implements you keep hidden there.”
“Iri, now’s a good time to whack the scholar,” said Viridelle, loosening her belt.
“I’m quite comfortable right here,” said Iridelle, “shielding all your naughtiness from the guards. Carry on, sister. Write your messages in that super-secret Hunter’s Tongue which nobody outside of the Hunters’ Guild knows about.”
Viri’s furious clucking had Shioni in stitches. Her friends! They were just the best–after Azurelle and Annakiya, of course. And Mama Nomuula. Would she ever see Castle Hiwot again, and smell those gorgeous baobab blossoms which hung over the courtyard in such heavy sprays, the branches bowed almost to the ground? At least she had half-foiled Tazaka and Kalcha’s plans for the Princess of West Sheba.
So, where on Fiuriel would Tazaka send a group of rebellious Fiuri who had accused him of murder? Somewhere as unpleasant as he undoubtedly was. The Cracks, perhaps, or deep into the dangerous core of Fiuriel itself?
Barely had Viridelle released her final, thumb-sized wasp and it had nipped away beneath their cell door, when another clattering of armour and weapons announced the arrival of a large posse of Yellow Fiuri soldiers, accompanied by a dozen Green Fiuri magicians. Lord Tazaka was taking no chances.
The foremost of the guards, Captain Hazzuriel, smirked at them. He growled, “Judgement awaits. Don’t keep Lord Tazaka waiting.”
Chapter 17: Banished
THe Halls OF Endless Light had been cleared of all but Lord Tazaka’s inner circle of nobles and the leaders of his armed forces. A vast sphere of hovering Vermilion Dragonflies, loaded with what had to be every magician in Green Central, greeted the overawed group of Fiuri as they entered the hall and walked up over the walkway to the central dais where Tazaka awaited them, with Queen Azurelle.
Azurelle had never looked more beautiful, Shioni thought, fighting off a treacherous tear. Her stunning Fiuri gown was the colour of bright African skies, a blue so bright it almost hurt the eye, a hue so vibrant that it seemed it could never be shadowed by a cloud. Upon her head she wore the diamond crown, and her azure hair cascaded over her shoulder in a waterfall of perfect ringlets. At her throat and wrists she wore a delicate frosting of diamonds, the likes of which would have made a Princess of Sheba turned green with envy.
Be strong, friend, she urged Azurelle silently. Shioni would rescue her from Tazaka’s plot if it took the last breath of her lungs.
They approached the throne.
“Now, as the sun Altair shades our world in the colours of night, we gather to deliver judgement,” Lord Tazaka announced. Shioni wondered how the tunnel-bound Fiuri knew whether it was day or night up on the surface. Could their magicians tell? “My Queen shall speak.”
Regally, Azurelle regarded them, each in turn. She showed not even a flicker of recognition when she gazed at Shioni. She said, “Viridelle, Iridelle and Chardal of Cave Seventeen, and Shionelle the White Fiuri, the Green Lords have delivered their verdict. They find you guilty of high treason against the realm.”
Beside Shioni, Chardal gasped. Viri only stiffened her shoulders, while Iridelle gazed on impassively, her fists clenched against the chains that bound her. None of them spoke.
“Your crimes include plotting a rebellion against Green Central, spreading false rumours about the rule and reign of Lord Tazaka, and the attempted assassination of Lord Tazaka and his Queen by means of wild magic. Reluctantly and with great sorrow at your misdeeds, the Lords therefore sentence you to be exiled from the Fiuri Realms for the remainder of your natural lives, to a place where by your best efforts, you may yet survive, and further, the Lords decree that you must never return to the Fiuri Realms except on pain of death.”
As she spoke, Lord Tazaka made a signal for their chains to be released. Once Azurelle finished speaking, he said, “I am not without mercy. Therefore I return to you your weapons and a week of supplies. May they serve to sustain you in times to come.”
Tazaka could sound so sincere and even kind, Shioni thought, snake in the grass that he was. Where would he send them?
Once the foursome were provisioned and armed, Lord Tazaka raised his hands. At his signal, great streams of fire lanced down from his magicians all around, filling him with light and power, as though he stood amidst a storm and absorbed lightning bolts into his body.
In a voice that shook the Halls of Endless Light, Tazaka decreed, “According to the judgement of the Green Lords, I banish you to the realm from whence you came.”
Earth, Shioni wondered? Surely not.
His arms lowered. With a gathering motion, Tazaka surrounded them with a whirlwind of his powerful green magic. “I banish you to the place of wild magic!”
Viridelle screamed.
A mocking whisper seemed to follow Shioni into the whirling, hungry green darkness: ‘How richly Kalcha will reward me for your death, Shioni of Sheba. Enjoy the surface of Fiuriel.’
The White Fiuri spiralled away into the black, flying faster even than her imagination could comprehend. She woke just a second later, it seemed, although some time must have passed. She found herself lying facedown on a patch of crimson gravel. Shioni’s eye cracked open to behold a wondrous sunset, far more orange-golden than she had ever seen in her life, splashed across a barren moonscape of rock, gilding a few small clouds near the horizon. Above the horizon, her gaze rose to behold the awesome, endless curvature of a planet which filled fully three quarters of the evening sky. Parts of it glowed with iridescent veils of colour like sunlight sparkling off a dragonfly’s wings as it sped over a still pool. Other parts were as black as oil, oozing beneath her regard as though moving, alive, in a way that made her soul shiver. The light and the dark seemed to ebb and flow, as if battling for dominance.
“Crysturiel?” she croaked.
Shioni groaned. What a headache she had! She felt as though she had been swatted by Kalcha’s hand all over again. Wiping off the gravel stuck to her cheek, she sat up. Her wounded leg throbbed as if another arrow had pierced her calf muscle.
Coughing and hacking in the too-thin, cool air, Shioni looked around her. Chardal, Iridelle, both lying sprawled nearby … where was Viri? Her friends stirred as she watched. She knew the moment they realised where they were; the stark terror, the sudden inward scrunching up of their bodies as though by curling up into a foetal ball, they could keep safe. She scuttled over to them.
“Char, Iri … keep calm, alright? You’ll be fine.”
“Y-Y-You’ve no i-idea!” stuttered Chardal.
“I do,” she soothed. “Iri, don’t cry. I grew up under skies like this–well, not quite like this, but under open skies. You won’t die.”
Making a low, keening noise as though someone she loved had died, Iri rocked back and forth, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Chardal was in no better shape. Shivering so hard he was in danger of biting off his own tongue, the scholar stared at Shioni with eyes so wide, she could see her own pale, worried expression doubled up in them.
Suddenly, he screamed, “We’re going to die! I don’t want to die! Not like this. No, no, no, make it go away, Shionelle.” He grabbed her collar and managed to crack their heads together. “Ooh, that kills!” he groaned.
“The pain of life.” Shioni gritted her teeth. “Char, calm down–”
“You calm down! It’s fine for you, you … you surface dweller.” He clutched his chest. “My heart’s going to explode and all you have to say is–”
“Calm down. Honestly, you’re behaving like a–yeow! Get off me!”
&n
bsp; The normally timid scholar was doing a fine impression of a rabid leopard, Shioni decided, thrusting her legs to kick him off over her head. Landing, Char curled up into a ball again. Well, at least that kept him from trying to beat her head into a pulp. The sounds of sobbing behind a nearby rock led her to Viri, head down and mewling into a crack between the rocks.
Shioni comforted her, and brought her back to the others.
Gazing at the deepening mauve of twilight, still lightened by Crysturiel’s glow in the sky, although the planet had already moved noticeably further below the horizon–Shioni tried to ignore how nearby that horizon seemed–she searched for inspiration. How could she help her friends? Of course they were scared. Well, Viri was being brave now, touching antennae with Iri, but they both shook like leaves in a breeze, their eyes huge as they gazed at Shioni.
Softly, she said, “Look, the stars are coming out. You won’t want to miss this. Iri, Viri, the night sky is just like the roof of an enormous cave. Do you remember? I told you before. Well, you’re in for a treat, because you’re going to see that tonight. As Fiuriel turns, it’s like sleep time for your plants. It’ll grow dark, but not so dark you can’t see anything.”
The three Green Fiuri gathered to the sound of her voice, making Shioni feel oddly like Mama Nomuula mustering them beneath her wing. She told them stories about her life in the Simien Mountains, of riding the King’s horse Thunder beneath the silvery moon, and how she had run with the Sheban warriors as she trained. How strange that the Fiuri knew nothing of storms and seasons and sunrises, she thought. Night fell as she spoke. Fiuriel turned, and the sky filled with such a glory of stars, even Shioni felt breathless. The stars covered the sky in thick strands and milky bands like platters seen side-on. She recognised not a single constellation, but led her three companions in a game of making up names for stars.