Dreaming Awake

by EF Joyce

  "Thank you, my lord. I will bring your terms to the army and report back immediately. This meeting is adjourned," he added, gathering his papers and rushing out before any of the other council members had left their chairs.

  Back in her rooms, Anaka stared out at the stormy sky darkening over the deep green sea. As summer waned the rain would pour down and the plains would flood, trapping her here forever. Stellan handed her a cup of gras and she sat, the dancing flames of the hearth pulling her gaze from the foreboding window.

  "The upcoming attack on Darvaza is in jeopardy," Stellan said. "Grayna is no traitor, meaning one remains on the council. Eide will know by now that we've planted sorcerers on the inside and will be working, maybe even now to root them out. We can no longer count on the gates opening from the inside. We'll have to add to the amount of men marching to Darvaza and build siege engines, at least ten legions, all without the council knowing, and more importantly without Elixa knowing."

  "And how will you accomplish that? Troop deployment still has to be approved by the council. You think they won't notice if ten legions go missing? And where will you get the men? Or the materials?" Please, enlighten me so I can keep our enemy up to date.

  "I intend to cut a deal with Balkin. He and Grayna want Yeraz to fall to Dalga as much as I do. The approved twenty legions will march out with Balkin. Halfway to Darvaza, he will pick up what remains of the ten legions still camped outside Kinjia, along with the siege materials originally meant for Tibre, without the council's knowledge. They will press on to Darvaza and take the city by force. The only problem is I don't trust Balkin. I fear he's made some powerful allies. I'll need to send another agent to ensure my orders are followed."

  "But who would you trust to carry the orders to Darvaza?" Surely not herself, seven months pregnant and barely able to waddle down the corridors. But who else could there be? She gazed at the flames of her hearth from Stellan's arms as they lounged on her sofa. If only we could live like this forever. If only I didn't have to betray you. Whoever he chose as an agent, Anaka would make sure personally that that man did not make it out of the city alive.

  "There is only one person in all of Yeraz who I trust that much, and that's you, Annie. But I cannot send you now," he added, running his hands over her bulging stomach, tracing the movements of their constantly squirming daughter. Certainly not. Had you been considering it? "Your apprentice, what's his name?" he said. "He's like a brother to you. I know you would trust him with your life. I trust you, therefore I trust him. He can carry the orders to Darvaza in your stead." Ronan like a brother? Hardly. Someone she trusted more than anyone else? Someone she cared about? Someone she loved? Yes. He would die in Darvaza.

  "You can't send Ronan!" He would die in the battle and if he survived, Stellan would execute him for betraying Yeraz by giving the wrong orders. If he gave the right orders, Eide would kill him for going back on their deal. Either way it was suicide.

  "He is my only option, Annie. He's been trained as an assassin, and he's Hakkon's own son. He'll be fine."

  "He's only eighteen. He's inexperienced," she argued. "He might die," she added quietly. How could Stellan dare suggest putting the only other person she cared for in direct danger? Even if he hadn't been a traitor, sending a barely trained assassin's apprentice who didn't even have the heart to kill someone to battle was as good as signing his Kan Sivid.

  "A year younger than you are? He's hardly a child. At sixteen, you traveled to the Wakati Isles and slew an entire village. A year before that, you assassinated the king of Salenda, started a war, then returned to Yeraz and murdered Estrial Hakkon, one of the greatest assassins in history, sat in his desk and announced yourself the new Black Hand. If I remember correctly, you also killed five other hopefuls attempting to steal the title from you. He'll be fine."

  "Ronan is nothing like me. He doesn't want to be an assassin. He's too kind hearted for Yeraz." You cannot do this to me. You cannot. I will never forgive you. None of this ever should have happened.

  "Annie, the fate of empire rests on this. I cannot select anyone who I don't trust completely. He's not leading the charge, only carrying orders. He doesn't even have to fight, ok? But I am sending him. End of discussion." Anaka settled back into Stellan's arms, filled with angry silence. No more mercy. No more stalling. I will end you, Stellan Tristenza.

  Some stupid, love drunk part of her had been holding onto a slim and probably nonexistent hope that Stellan would change, that she needn't betray his final plans, that perhaps they could still win the war and he'd never know what she'd done. Also, she still wasn't ready to leave him, and maybe never would be. She had allowed herself to imagine a life where they could live as a family; happy, together, raising their daughter as a normal little girl, not a queen bound to the Sphere. But who had she been kidding? Stellan Tristenza – an immortal, a god to the people, once a mage of unfathomable power. He would never want a quiet life, he would never let go of his dominion.

  He may love her, but he would never extend that love to others to make her happy. He would never love her more than he loved power. He wouldn't spare Ronan from this task, even though she'd begged him, and he wouldn't spare their daughter from her fate either. Stellan was and always had been a cruel, hard man who cared for little more than his own position. She had known it, she had always known it, had carried that truth with her, though buried under emotions and denial. Enough. The time had come for her to end this charade and turn her back on this life forever.

  II

  The night air was crisp, its usual mugginess dissipating as the seasons turned in Dalga. Anaka sat perched in the white winged chair facing Alaric in his room atop the highest tower, resplendent in his white robes, a gleaming crown perched on his long, white-blonde hair. Red roses filled a white vase on the white table between them. She'd never seen roses in his tower room before and wondered at the replacement. He had changed, the king. The man practically glowed with some unknown joy, in direct contrast to the dark moods she normally found him in.

  "What do you have to tell me this time, my little bird?" he asked, smiling.

  "I have news. The council has agreed to attack Darvaza. The will march in one week's time–"

  "And you have managed to sneak in over three-hundred sorcerers, dressed as merchants and refugees, keen to take down my soldiers and open the gates once your legions arrive," he finished for her, smiling wider. Despite her usual emotionless visage, Anaka could not keep the shock from her face. How many surprises could she handle? Between Alaric and Stellan, she didn't even know what the hell was happening anymore.

  "How could you–"

  "I have my ways. I fear you've been replaced. I've made a deal with someone even more powerful, more influential than you, if you can dare to believe it." Who? The only people with more information and power than her were Stellan and...

  "The queen?" Anaka sputtered, shocked even further. No wonder Stellan had been so keen on hiding the new orders from his daughter. He had known Elixa was in contact with Alaric. Had known and hadn't bothered to tell her. Again. "Elixa? Why would the queen herself betray her empire to you? Why?!" Anaka panicked. She could not lose this chance. She had to gain asylum, now. Only two months remained until her daughter was due, only two months to get out of Yeraz before she wouldn't be able to protect her anymore. And the queen, betraying her own empire? Impossible.

  "Well, I never thought I would see such fear and panic on the stone face of the famed assassin, Anaka Vilente," he grinned again, like a wicked child torturing a helpless animal. "Too bad that isn't your true name...the things I could do with that...ah well.

  "You could run home to the arms of your immortal lover and confess that his daughter is plotting against him, but I believe he already knows. You're trapped, Handmaiden. And you're now useless to me. Return to Yeraz and live whatever life you choose. I'm not an overly cruel man. In exchange for the services you have provided me, I will keep your secret. No one will ever know you were an informa
nt."

  "I don't understand," Anaka said, tears burning her eyes. Do not cry in front of this man. You are stronger than this, she thought, but the tears came nonetheless. Everything was slipping right out of her hands. Even if she could tell Stellan about Elixa, it wouldn't matter. Alaric was right, he already knew and already planned for it by sacrificing Ronan to deliver some vague plans that he hadn't exactly revealed to her. "Why would Elixa do this? What are you planning?"

  "As if I would tell you? As I said, we are done," he rose from his chair and gestured for her to leave.

  "I know your father is Darian Nicromate. I know about your siblings. You're going to tear this world apart!" she yelled. It was a gamble, as Stellan had admitted Darian's return was only a guess.

  "I will stand against my father! I will create lasting peace!" he yelled back at her. "If you know so much, then you know Elixa has the Sphere's power. With the Sphere we will defeat him!" Anaka was blown away. Alaric had just admitted to her that his father was the legendary mind mage from Stellan's ancient past. And they intended to use the Sphere? And when Elixa used up her power or went mad with it, as all the queens did, they would need a new queen, a new daughter. Her daughter.

  When Anaka had first become pregnant, she had known it already, unconsciously, the whispering changes of her body struggling to make themselves known. But it hadn't been completely true until the physician had said the words You are with child, her dark eyes serious and pleased. Anaka had swallowed, her throat sandpaper.

  For years this had been the moment she'd dreaded, but things had changed. Over a year had passed since her first night with Stellan, and in that time her whole world had flipped over. She loved him. But now they had a child. The future queen.

  "Speak of this to no one," she'd commanded, placing a heavy velvet coin purse in the woman's hand.

  "But the people, My Lady...they must know..."

  "And they will. Just not yet," she'd argued, squeezing the woman's hand, willing her to listen.

  "As you wish," she'd conceded with a nod, her face a storm cloud.

  I will have a child. The thought had invaded her mind, over and over. I already do.

  Impossibly tiny, buried inside her, but real and hers. A child meant to be the future queen of Yeraz; meant to sacrifice her life for the powers of the Sphere, to live as a prisoner and a slave to her own father. The palace walls had closed in on her like a tomb, the air turning acrid in her mouth. She'd raced through the twisting corridors, down the cut path through the tall grasses and toward the Silver Sea, her booted feet leaving soft prints in the dark sand.

  The ocean's spray had whisked across her face, sticking to her hair in beads, masking her hot tears. She'd touched her own face, mystified. The last time she'd cried she'd been a scared little girl of nine. Her tears had not come even for her mother's passing, and yet here they were now. But what could she do? How could she possibly save her daughter from her future as the Queen of Dreams?

  After two hours alone on the beach, she'd known. Anaka would trade her riches, her influence, her titles of Black Hand and Handmaiden and Holy Mother for just one title: mother. Mother of a daughter who would never know she'd been meant to rule an empire.

  Anaka had managed to enlist General Quinton Balkin and his brigade, pack her bags and lead her horse from the stables before Stellan had found her. The stable hands had fallen back, bowing and scraping to the almighty Ilahi. She knew better.

  "Anaka, what are you doing?" he'd questioned, his handsome face drawn in stern lines, his black eyes unreadable.

  "I'm going to Dalga," she'd replied, as if she were reminding him of something he already knew.

  "Annie, you can't. Not now," a gentleness she rarely saw in him had softened his features.

  "Did you talk to the physician?" she'd snapped.

  "I didn't have to. I can tell. And you shouldn't be leaving the palace, especially for such a taxing journey."

  "We are losing the war!" she'd argued. "The queen's powers are not working. If King Eide is not dealt with, then all our child will inherit are ruins."

  Please believe me. Please.

  "Fine. But only because you have never failed and the king's death would mean certain victory for Yeraz. You must promise not to leave the palace after your return, though."

  "I swear it," she'd breathed, instead thinking to her daughter, impossibly small and impossibly real: I swear it. I will save you, no matter the cost.

  "I do have one thing left to offer you," she told Alaric, her voice shaking. "In exchange for this information, I want my papers sent to Yeraz immediately, a set for both myself and my companion Ronan Hakkon. You will send your fastest messenger. I want to be out of Yeraz before the week is over. Before our armies march to Darvaza." Alaric narrowed his eyes patronizingly, his crown glowing in the moonlit filtering from his window.

  "What could you possibly offer me that is worth so much? I already have everything I need to walk right into Yeraz unopposed."

  "The Ilahi, Sebastian Elspeth, Elixa's father has many names. I will give you his true one." His eyebrows rose, his blue eyes widened.

  "Not even my father possesses that information," Alaric said. "I would give you anything for it. Anything. But be warned, I know the sound of a true name. Make something up and I will not be fooled. For attempting to lie to me, my justice will be merciless."

  "I am the only one living who knows it. Promise me my papers. Promise and if you do not deliver I will find a way to sabotage you, that much I swear."

  "I swear it, Anaka Vilente. I swear it upon all my honor." The Handmaiden took a deep breath, now or never. It was the ultimate betrayal, one that he would destroy her for. One that would destroy him.

  "His name is Stellan Tristenza."

  III

  "I'm to do what?" Ronan whispered as they huddled in Hakkon's old office. They stood behind the old desk, facing the full length windows, as far from the door as possible.

  "Don't worry," she whispered back, her voice barely audible. "Our papers will arrive this week, before the army leaves. We now own a house in Kenar, a remote village on the very edge of Dalga's coast. I've stashed enough money from my jobs as the Black Hand that we'll be set for decades. Our names have been changed. You are now Roland Gerdania and I'm Annemarie Winsorton. Alaric also arranged guarded transport for us. All we have to do is get out of the city and meet them in Kutana." Ronan's arm encircled her, turning her to face him.

  "Is this what you want? To live out the rest of your life in some village...?" he asked, the real question lurking in his moss green eyes. With me?

  We'll be together when this is all over. She remembered those words as clear as yesterday. But it had been too late. She never seemed capable of making the right choices, but she couldn't help how she felt. Maybe they could have a second chance. If she wanted one. Did she?

  "Yes, Ronan, that's what I want." He ran his fingers through her hair, brushed her cheek his hand and leaned in to kiss her. Immediately she saw Stellan's face, his perfect, beautiful, terrible face and turned away, Ronan's lips brushing her cheek instead.

  "Let's just get out of Yeraz, Ok?" He sighed and stepped back, staring out at the sea.

  "I was just a day too late, wasn't I?" he mused to the windows. A day too late. How right that was. "So Eide has been putting you off for months and now we're leaving this week? I thought he wouldn't get us out until he took the city. What did you trade him?" he whispered.

  "Something invaluable to a mind mage. A three-thousand-year-old secret." He lifted his eyebrow, waiting for elaboration. Well, she had already told him everything else. "I gave him Sebastian's true name."

  "What!" he yelped, then clapped his hand over his mouth. "I mean what?" he whispered. "He gave you his name? If Alaric knows, won't he be able to control him completely?"

  "Yes," Anaka replied, staring blankly out the window. There was nothing he could say. He squeezed her hand in reassurance just as someone pounded on the door. She opened it to Ste
llan, who had changed into a new suit and combed his hair. Was there an important meeting she'd forgotten about?

  "I'm sorry to interrupt," he said.

  "Oh, no we were just finishing. I've told Ronan about the job. He will be ready to leave with the army." You made me betray you, Stellan. You did this to yourself.

  "Excellent," Stellan replied, though distracted. "Can I borrow you for a moment, Annie? I need to show you something."

  "Of course. Ronan, I'll see you at dinner." Ronan nodded and Anaka left with Stellan. He led her through the twisting halls, not speaking, his blank expression set in stone. The Handmaiden watched the walls as they swept past; the framed paintings faded and peeling, the mirrors rimmed with green, the windows coated with grime and the tapestries unraveling. Hadn't they just redone this floor? The erosive, corroding presence that had always lurked in the palace was becoming more vicious, tearing things apart faster than they could replace them.

  They ascended the marble stairway to the fourth floor, mostly empty save the council chambers and a number of unused suites. He led her down the Hall of Queens and she looked at the painted faces of Elixa's predecessors watching her. All thirteen of them were utterly beautiful – some resembling Stellan and others who must have taken after their mothers. At the end of the hall was Elixa's own portrait, painted the day before her coronation. Even at ten she'd been lovely, haughty and brave. She stood ramrod straight in her gray poufy silk gown, no hint of a smile on her lips, her steel eyes surveying her empire and finding it wanting.

  Why did you betray us, Elixa? She wished she could have asked her, but now she would never know. Just past her portrait were a pair of double doors, fresh wood and beautifully carved with scenes from Yeraz's history. Stellan unlocked them and ushered her inside.

  They opened into a sitting room; marble tiled floors and thick carpets, two overstuffed sofas facing and elaborate hearth. Another set of stained glass doors led to a bedroom, richly decorated and furnished, everything new. To the right of the bedroom was a bath chamber fit for a queen, and to the left another set of doors led to a fourth room.