by Moose Tyler
Amaria blushed as she collected her composure. She felt like she had just finished three swims to the Eastern Rim. She looked at Telsa. “I can’t believe you know how to do this.”
“Wanje’s been teaching me to connect with animals since I started General Studies, though she wasn’t supposed to until after I’d had my first vision. It’s quite easy once you know how, but sustaining it is too hard with most animals. Otherwise, I’d have a full pen to keep me company.”
“You’re a good teacher.”
Telsa laughed. “Hardly. Had the Great Mother not already opened the gift, I wouldn’t have been so successful. Want to try again?”
Amaria smiled, “Yes.” She took the last fish, broke it a part, and extended it, all while practicing the technique.
Timber looked at Telsa, and Telsa nodded.
Amaria dropped her hand. “Have you been telling her to take the food?”
Telsa smiled. “Of course not.”
“Why don’t I don’t believe you?”
She giggled and shrugged. Amaria felt something soft on her hand, and she jerked it away and looked down. Timber darted off into the trees with the fish.
Telsa shook her head. “You’re never going to keep the connection like that. Remember, stay calm.”
Timber crept back into the open.
Amaria looked at her. “So, if the Great Mother gave me the gift to connect with a cat, can I connect with bears, if I practice?”
“If you got a cub, maybe, but most likely not. You have the ability, but bears are hard. Just stick with Timber. Your connection with her is weak at best.”
Amaria’s eyes widened. “What about water? I’m most in balance with water.”
“If you can figure out water, let me know. I could really use a tip.”
Timber crept closer and growled. Amaria looked at the clearing and back to the cat. “What is it?”
“Someone’s coming,” said Telsa.
Timber dashed into the bushes and crouched low. Amaria looked at the clearing again. A rider entered and galloped closer.
Amaria shaded her eyes. “Who is that?”
“Sephora.”
Sephora was the queen’s personal messenger and Gypsus’s older sister, but unlike Gypsus, Sephora had thick blonde hair which she kept in two braids down her back. She approached. The horse neighed when it came to a stop in front of the bench. It was enormous, black and shiny with sweat. By its muscles, Amaria determined that the beast was probably the fastest in the royal stables.
“The queen has sent word,” said Sephora. She looked at Telsa. “Good day, Telsa.”
Telsa bowed. “Good day.”
Amaria looked at the bushes. Timber was well-hidden.
Sephora steadied the horse. “Her grace requests your company.”
Amaria looked at Telsa.
Telsa clasped onto her and squeezed. “It was good to see you, Ree. I hope not as many moons pass before our next visit.”
“Me too.” Amaria kissed Telsa’s forehead before releasing her and standing back.
Telsa stood there, smiling.
“Go on,” said Amaria. “The queen’s calling. You mustn’t keep her waiting.”
“She isn’t asking for me, little brain.”
Amaria felt her stomach catapult into her throat. She looked at Sephora. “What does her grace want with me?”
Sephora shrugged. “You’re right though. You mustn’t keep her waiting. Leave the bag here.”
Amaria handed the satchel to Telsa.
She slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll see that Timber returns to the barn. We have a few things to discuss first.” She winked and hugged Amaria again. “You’ll be fine,” she whispered. “Great Mother be with you.”
Amaria looked at Sephora, who had her hand extended. Amaria took hold and jumped on the back of the horse. Sephora jabbed her heels into its ribs, and it lunged into a trot. As it circled around, Amaria looked at Telsa. Her sister waved as Timber crept out of the bushes and crouched next to her. For a heartbeat, Amaria felt her growl, but the connection was lost when Sephora urged the horse into a canter and navigated it through the metal archway, out of Sacred Meadow, and on to Queen’s Cliff.
The ride to Queen’s Cliff was one of the bumpiest Amaria had ever taken. Sephora jerked at the reins, and the horse turned violently. Amaria had to grip tight with her legs to keep balance. She clutched onto Sephora’s waist as the horse surged up the rocky path and crested the ledge. It trotted in a circle before coming to a stop. Amaria jumped off.
Sephora pointed at the cave in the side of the rocks. “That way. You’ll walk about three hundred paces before you get to the torch. Don’t mind the wolves,” she said. “They’re mostly snarl, unless you try to touch her without permission. So, don’t do that.”
Amaria nodded. “Do you know why she asked for me?”
Sephora shrugged. “Ask yourself.” She jabbed the horse’s ribs, and it trotted to the ledge and disappeared down the path.
Amaria turned and entered the darkness, counting her steps as she went. When she hit two hundred, she saw a dim light in front of her. A wolf growled from behind. She stiffened but kept moving.
The torch was latched to the wall beside a wooden door. She looked behind her and saw a wolf with thick grey fur standing in the path, growling deep and baring its fangs.
“I’ve been invited,” said Amaria.
She faced the door and inhaled deeply. She smelled a light scent of soap and heard a woman humming softly from inside. Amaria tapped lightly on the wood, and the humming stopped.
“Enter,” she heard the queen say.
She reached for the gold knob polished so bright she could see bits of her reflection, and opened the door.
The walls of the chamber were clay, and the air was heavy with moisture. The queen, bronzed as metal and wearing a green tunic, sat at a table across the room, scribbling on parchment. There was a drinking glass filled with a light pink liquid and a small saucer with, what looked like, sweet bread next to the parchment. A large red wolf lay on a mountain cat rug in front of the table.
It growled as Amaria bowed. “My queen,” she said, her voice was shaky and crackly. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was. She tried to licks her lips, but her tongue was like cloth.
The queen stood. “Don’t be rude, Red One.” She gave Amaria a low, gracious bow. “We’re honored to have such a decorated victor’s company, and right here before Genesis.”
Amaria tried to wet her lips again, but her tongue kept sticking to the roof of her mouth. Her eyes darted around the room in search of water. The table the queen had been sitting at looked like a personal study. The pink liquid in the glass caught Amaria’s eye before she scanned the rest of the surroundings.
The chamber was well lit. Torches circled the space, and a fire burned in the center. Off to the side, there was a large bed with four thick pillows covered in bear hide. A long cloth draped from the tops of the posts and hung overhead like clouds.
Behind the desk were shelves stuffed with scrolls and trinkets and a trunk next to that. To the left of the study was an archway that led into what looked like a washing room. To the right was a sitting area with a large, round table and high-backed chairs positioned around it. A Four Crowns board and a wooden box were on the table.
“Are you ready for the Games?”
Amaria looked at the queen. “Yes, your grace. I’m competing in three events.”
“Only three?”
Amaria nodded. “I wanted to focus on my favorites this cycle.”
The queen smiled. “Which three? I must know what to save my arrowheads for.”
Many bet on Amaria during the Games, but the queen wasn’t just anybody. Impressing her meant the possibility of a higher rank.
Amaria felt her cheeks burn, and she
smiled sheepishly. “Horse and Bows, Sliver Riding, and Hand-to-Hand.”
“No climbing events?”
“Not this cycle.”
“I guess that’s more your sister’s area of expertise.”
Amaria cleared her throat. “Aye, your grace.”
“Are you parched?”
Amaria bowed. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You must be.” The queen whisked over to a small rope dangling from the ceiling next to the dressing room and tugged gently. Amaria heard a chime come from somewhere outside the room. “It will be a few heartbeats,” she said, returning to the table in her study. She filled two glasses with the pink liquid and returned. “This will tide you over for now.” She extended one to Amaria.
Amaria took it and bowed. She held it up to her nose and inhaled. A stinging sensation burned the inside of her nostrils, but the aroma was fruity and light. She raised the glass to her lips and started to drink, but the queen reminded Amaria of her manners.
“To the Great Mother,” she said, raising her glass.
Amaria mimicked the gesture. “To the Great Mother.”
The queen brought her drink to her lips and smiled before taking a sip.
Amaria took a big swig, and the liquid burned her tongue. She wanted to spit it out, but she was in the queen’s presence, so she choked it down. The burn intensified and traced a path to her stomach, like a blade that had been held in the fire. Something in her gut churned, and the searing sensation rolled back up the way it came, only this time like the tiny needles used to pierce ears or carve markings into the flesh. She opened her mouth to ask what the liquid was, but a loud belch came out instead.
She covered her mouth. “Excuse me, your grace.”
The queen laughed and took another sip. “You have to be careful with my tea.”
Amaria had heard stories about the queen’s tea, rumors, legends told around the fires about notorious late night social calls, but she didn’t know anyone who had actually attended the parties. According to the talk, her tea was potent and could result in a moon’s stay or two at the healers’ camp. Amaria looked down. The liquid was nearly gone.
The queen went to the table, picked up the pitcher, and returned. “You need a refill.”
“I still have some, your grace.” Amaria swished what little was left around the bottom of the glass. “This is plenty.”
“Nonsense.” The queen tipped the pitcher, pouring nearly to the top. “You’re obviously thirsty, and I have no idea where my maids are.” She crossed the room, set the pitcher on the round table in the sitting area, and took a seat in one of the high-backed chairs. She motioned for Amaria to join her. “Let’s chat while we wait.”
Amaria walked to the table and took the opposite seat. The red wolf circled behind her and lay down next to the queen’s chair. “I like your wolf’s color.”
The queen smiled. “That’s kind of you to say. I’m a fan, too.” She motioned behind Amaria. “You met Ashes on your way in. I do hope he wasn’t too nasty.”
Amaria turned. Ashes was huge. He growled low. She looked at the queen and shook her head. “His growl is fierce though.”
“He’s getting grumpy in old age.”
Ashes walked around the table and took post behind the queen.
Amaria took a drink, this time careful not to gulp the liquid. “How old is he?”
“Going on seventeen cycles, this Harvest.”
“That’s old for a wolf, isn’t it? I remember from General Studies pen wolves lived to only about ten, if they didn’t die on a hunt.”
The queen smiled. “Ashes wasn’t born in the pen. He was found as a pup in the Great Ravine, but Red One is from Zira’s bloodline. I found Zira and her sister Kasaka when I was just about your age. Wanje tells me you’ve connected with a cat.”
“Yes, ma’am. Well, I’m trying to.”
“With Wanje as your teacher, I’m sure you will have success, which reminds me,” she motioned to the rug in her study, “thank you for the lovely gift. I had the hide cleaned at once. Red One has taken a liking to it.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased, your grace.”
“Tell me about your cat. Maybe I can help. Connecting with animals can be a challenge to figure out. How old is it?”
Amaria took another drink. The burning tickled her nose and tongue, and she thought that in small doses the sensation was tolerable, almost enjoyable. “She’s about two cycles.”
“Pity she isn’t younger. What color is the hide?”
“Yellow.”
“The same as the hide you gave me?”
Amaria nodded.
The queen sipped her tea. “I’m sure she’s striking. Have you been able to maintain the connection?”
“For a few heartbeats, but it’s exhausting.”
The queen nodded. “I find happy emotions are less draining.”
“Happy, your grace?”
“Yes, when I first tried to open the gift, I relied on wrath and frustration to conjure the connection. They are powerful but fade quicker than, say, joy or love. They’re just as strong and easier to hold on to.”
Amaria nodded and took another drink. She heard a creak from behind her and turned to see a maid enter.
She bowed. “Your grace?”
“Amaria is in need of water, Jocelyn.” The queen shifted her position to better see the maid. “I rang heartbeats ago. Did you not hear the chime?”
Jocelyn bowed again. “Aye. I apologize for the wait.”
“Bring some water and fruit.” The queen looked at Amaria’s glass. “That was her second.”
Amaria looked down to see the liquid was nearly gone.
“Aye, your grace. Anything else?”
“Yes, ready my horse. I’ll need some fresh air after all this tea.”
“It’s already done.” Jocelyn bowed one last time before leaving the room.
The queen looked at Amaria. “Where were we?”
Amaria felt dizzy. Small beads of sweat broke out on her brow. She tried to steady her vision.
The queen smiled. “Oh, yes, happy emotions.”
Amaria couldn’t shake the fuzz from her mind. She desperately wanted something to wet her tongue. She looked in the glass, and her stomach lurched at the thought of swallowing what was left. She looked at the queen. “Happy emotions are easier to hold than anger.”
“In my experience, yes. Then again, I’m not a sage. They’re far superior at connecting than I ever will be.”
“I didn’t know they connected to the elements until today. I always thought saying Wanje was in balance with water was just symbolic.” She looked at the liquid for a heartbeat before drinking the rest.
The queen laughed. “I’ve never seen it personally. Wanje and Bekos are the only ones who have been called to the corners, but I trust Euphora and Anthea will know what to do. They’re a tad scary, are they not?”
“Sages?”
She nodded.
Amaria shrugged. “I guess. Some more than others.”
The queen winked. “Bekos?”
Amaria smiled sheepishly. “Maybe.”
She laughed again, which made Amaria’s cheeks burn hotter. She desperately wanted to impress the queen, and so far, she felt that the meeting was going well. Bantering wasn’t as hard as she had imagined, but she still felt on edge. Certainly the queen hadn’t summoned her here just to chat about sages and get the scoop on the Games. Amaria felt her stomach churn, and the sweat returned to her brow. The maid entered the room carrying a tray. She set it on the table.
“Thank you, Jocelyn,” the queen said. “Pour Amaria some water and see to it that she has fruit. She’s lost some color.”
Jocelyn approached Amaria. “Yes, your grace.”
Amaria’s hands shook as she handed the maid her glass.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Jocelyn took it and walked away.
The queen motioned to the Four Crowns game board on the table. “Care to play?”
Amaria sat straighter in her chair. “Sure.”
“Excellent. I will warn you. I’m quite good. Isn’t that right, Jocelyn?”
“Aye, your grace,” said Jocelyn, “the best I’ve ever seen.”
“She has to say that,” the queen whispered to Amaria. “But, it also happens to be true,” she said a bit louder.
Amaria smiled. “I’m sure I’ll be no match.”
“Isn’t she sweet, Jocelyn? I have a feeling she will be a fierce competitor, don’t you agree?”
“Aye, your grace.” Jocelyn returned and put two stones on the table. She set Amaria’s glass on top of one and a water glass for the queen on the other. She used a larger stone for the fruit bowl. “Will you be requiring anything else?”
“No, that is all. Thank you, Jocelyn.”
Jocelyn bowed and left the chamber.
The queen leaned forward, took a sip of water, ate a piece of fruit, and cracked open a box. The game pieces inside sparkled, and Amaria watched as she removed each one and set them on the board.
“Eat some fruit, Amaria. It will help soften the effects of the tea. I want you at your best. No letting me win, understand?”
“Yes, your grace.” Amaria grabbed a piece of fruit and put it in her mouth. Her stomach lurched as she chewed and swallowed. She ate two more pieces and drank some water. As she set the glass on the stone, she noticed her hands were less shaky.
The queen arranged the pieces on the board. “North or south?”
“Queen’s choice.” Amaria ate more fruit.
The queen spun the board around. “I’ve always preferred south.”
Amaria cracked her knuckles, took another big drink of water, and organized her side of the board. The game set was nice. The pieces were polished rock, and the detail in the carvings was exquisite.
Since the queen had chosen south, she would make the first move. After a few moments of contemplation, she slid a piece to the left, sat back, and sipped her tea.
Amaria ate a few more pieces of fruit and finished off the water before focusing on the game. The queen had taken the route through the mountains, which meant she could either go around the shore or meet her at the foothills. It was a bold move, but she charged the mountain.