"Look!" Tory hissed in Ry's ear, bringing his brother around quickly. Ry drew in a sharp breath. Wlodek, Adam and Merrill had come. Neither Tory nor Ry could sufficiently describe the race to which those three belonged. Their mother often said that knowledge of their race protected itself and none could speak of it unless they had permission.
Ry had firsthand experience with that—he'd tried and failed. His mother also said that this particular race was the smallest race—in numbers, anyway—that existed. Uncles Drake, Drew, Winkler, Gavin, Tony and Karzac all had ties to that race. That still didn't give Ry or Tory permission to speak of it. Not even a little. They could discuss it with each other, but not with outsiders. Their words would be held back by some sort of invisible shield. They'd learned to live with it.
"Why do you think they've come?" Ry whispered. Tory just shook his head. They sat and watched as the Council gathered and took their seats. Their mother came in, flanked by Tory's father and Uncle Rigo. Aurelius and Uncle Aryn, who served as the Queen's personal advisors, were already there and waiting for the Queen to be seated.
Erland slipped in and sat next to the boys before the sentencing began. His father's face looked grim, Ry thought. The prisoners were brought in next and then the palace guards led in the prisoners' parents. Both young offenders looked pale.
"We are here to pass sentence upon Haldis and Sark of the Green Fae village," Aurelius made the announcement after the prisoners came to stand before the Queen and the others who stood with her. Aurelius shook his shoulder-length, dark-gold hair back as he read the charges off the comp-vid in his hand. Those charges included attempted murder, assault and conspiracy. "You have been sentenced to the prison planet of Evensun. You may make a short statement, if you wish." Aurelius stepped back after announcing their punishment.
"The stupid little eunuch should have died," the one called Haldis snapped. He sounded close to tears. Ry exchanged a glance with Tory.
"He is not a eunuch." Their mother spoke for the first time. "That is how his race is. If you'd bothered to do any research, you could have found this out for yourself." The Queen was upset and angry, Ry and Tory could tell, as were their fathers and uncles. The Queen's voice was even, though, so only those close to her might be able to tell how upset she really was. "Is that why you did this? You didn't think he was whole?"
Neither of the boys spoke, now. "If there are no other statements?" Aurelius spoke again. "The parents of the accused wish to accompany their children to Evensun. They have signed waivers to this effect, and those are on file for public perusal," Aurelius went on. "This business of the High Council upon Le-Ath Veronis is now concluded. The prisoners will be transported to the space station and taken from there to Evensun. The Queen and the Council's word is law."
Aurelius nodded to the guards, who came forward to take the prisoners from the Council chambers. Ry and Tory watched them go. As soon as they were gone, the Council members rose and began filing out. It took a while for all of them to leave—some spoke to others, holding things up. Erland's arm stole around Ry's shoulders.
"That should not have been, son," Erland hugged Ry tightly before letting him go.
"Yeah. Dad?" Ry looked up at his father's face.
"What, son?"
"I love you."
"I know." Erland stood and waited for Ry and Tory to rise. "You should know how much I love you, too. Come on, I think your mother is about to have a meltdown."
* * *
"Flavio, I don't care whether you think this is justice or not." Queen Lissa was arguing with the only Council member left inside the chamber. He was an old friend of their mother's, Ry knew. Lissa was comfortable telling him exactly what she thought.
"I know you didn't want to send them there because of their age. If you recall, all of us saw the Larentii's images of that child after he was beaten. He would have died without outside help. Even you admit that. This surprises me." Flavio's mouth was set in a grim line, marring his handsome features.
"Flavio, I have a headache and I really don't want to argue about this anymore. I just want to crawl out of my skin and be somebody else for a while. Somebody who doesn't care about any of this." Lissa rubbed her forehead.
"Cara, come." Gavin was at the Queen's side immediately, trying to convince her to come with him. Everybody else was backing away—although Drake and Drew seemed disappointed that Gavin got there first. Gavin had his arm around Lissa as they walked out of the Council Chamber. "Cara, do you feel like eating now?" Gavin asked softly. Ry knew his mother had been too upset to have breakfast earlier.
"No, honey." Lissa's words were barely a whisper, and if Gavin hadn't been holding her up, she would have fallen to the floor when she fainted. As it was, Erland, Drake, Drew and the others were rushing to the Queen's side when she almost went down, and Gavin was shouting for Karzac and the Larentii the moment he lifted her in his arms.
* * *
"I know you want to go to your mother, but right now we all have to stay out of the way." Garde was holding Ry and Tory back. They stood against a wall in the Queen's suite of rooms while Karzac and both Larentii checked on the Queen.
"What's wrong with her, Dad?" Tory sounded scared.
"We think she just fainted, but Karzac and the Larentii are checking to make sure. This has been a harder blow than we thought. She didn't want any part of sending those boys to Evensun, although the crime they committed was one of the worst."
Karzac turned and glared at the gathered crowd. "We need everybody out of here. Now." Tory's father jerked around and stared at Uncle Karzac. Even he knew not to argue with the curmudgeonly physician, however.
"Let's see if Cheedas can get us a snack," Garde gripped Ry and Tory's arms and hauled them out of the Queen's suite.
Cheedas ordered his assistants to find food and then sat next to Tory's High Demon father. "Do not think that I won't hear," he grumbled. "What is wrong with my little girl?"
At any other time, Ry might have found that amusing. Cheedas considered the Queen his adopted child, and she called him Papa Cheedas. She often went to him for advice or consolation, if all the uncles and his father were on the outs with her. She'd offered Cheedas other positions—more important positions—in the palace. Cheedas liked to cook and run the kitchens. He stayed right where he was.
Cheedas was comesula. Nearly five hundred fifty years of age, he was slender of build, stood around five feet six inches tall, his dark hair had silver in it and he ruled the palace kitchen with an iron fist wrapped in an oven mitt.
"They didn't tell us anything, either." Garde was close to blowing smoke, Ry knew. He was holding back for Tory's sake—Tory still looked scared. Ry didn't feel good about it, either. Erland had insisted on staying in the Queen's suite, as did several others. Garde had been the one to get the boys out of the Queen's bedroom. This shouldn't be—their mother wasn't susceptible to illness as a rule.
"There are sixteen Larentii inside the Queen's suite," a comesula servant skidded into the kitchen. He was ready to add to that statement when he caught sight of Garde and the two young Princes. "I'll just go wash the vegetables and cut them up," he recovered quickly and walked swiftly toward the pantry.
"Stay here," Garde ordered and Ry and Tory were left to wonder as Garde skipped away right in front of them.
"Young ones, you should not worry. The Larentii will take care of things." Cheedas sounded worried, too, as he attempted to reassure the Princes. "Tell me about your schoolwork."
Tory hesitated for a few seconds. "We're working on a report," he admitted. "On the economic impact that Trell's destruction had on the Alliance."
"Hmmph. Many things happened at that time. That mess upon Cloudsong was the worst. Upset my little girl, it did." Cheedas slid off his stool and went to supervise the cooking. One of Ry's eyebrows lifted as he stared at his brother.
* * *
"How is this possible? It should not be possible." Those were Karzac's words as Tory and Ry were led insid
e the library by Grant, one of their mother's assistants. Grant had been sent to find them in the kitchen. Karzac was pacing, too, and raking hands through his light-brown hair, which now looked wild. Ry and Tory stopped dead just inside the wide door into the library.
"Is Mom sick?" Tory almost whispered the words.
"Young ones, come and sit." Karzac pointed to the sofa they'd sat on the night before.
"It is not bad news." Uncle Reemagar came up behind them and herded both boys toward the sofa. Ry and Tory sat as instructed. Even Ry felt cold and shivery—something not normal for him.
"Your mother has managed to get herself pregnant, when we all thought that was impossible. Even she thought it impossible." Karzac sighed and sat across from Ry and Tory. "You had surrogate mothers, as you know—the Larentii manipulated donor eggs with your mother's genetic material, making them her eggs in every way. Your sister was conceived using the same method. And now this."
"The Wise Ones say that since your mother is what she is, that the eggs will only be released in her body after great lengths of time," Reemagar knelt next to Ry's side of the sofa. "They also say they know who the father is, but they will not announce that information at this time. They tell us that it will come later."
"You mean one of us could have a full brother or sister, and not a half?" Tory asked, his eyes wide.
"Yes, that is a possibility," Reemagar smiled, causing the blue skin around his eyes to crinkle just a little. Ry remembered that his mother always said that when a Larentii smiled, it was like watching the sky smile on a sunny day.
"So, when?" Tory didn't finish his question.
"In about seven months," Reemagar was still smiling.
"We will have to be careful with your mother—she is not built for this," Karzac grumbled. Ry looked at Uncle Karzac—he could be the father too, and Ry had only just thought of that. Kevis, Karzac's only son with another mate, was a year older than Ry and Tory. He came to visit occasionally, when he wasn't in school.
"She is small, with a thin build, and being what she is," Reemagar explained Karzac's statement. Ry and Tory both nodded. Their mother was five feet tall, if that, and both boys towered over her, as did all their uncles.
"It won't hurt her, will it?"
"We will make her as comfortable as possible through this," Reemagar replied. "And we will monitor things with her. These Council meetings and any other business that she tends to may have to be cut back, or others may handle them for her. It will not be the first time."
"It will be the first time in fourteen years," Uncle Drake pointed out. He and Uncle Drew had just walked in. Ry knew that they'd come from their mother's suite.
"Who took the prisoners to Evensun?" Tory asked quietly.
"Aurelius and Aryn escorted them," Drake answered the question. Tory nodded at the reply.
"Will we know if they—you know."
"We'll know." Tory nodded at Drake's reply.
"Can we go see Mom?" Ry wanted to know.
"You can see her, but she is asleep at the moment. She was frightened at the news at first, so a healing sleep was placed. Connegar is with her now, as are Pheligar and Renegar. They will wake her shortly—she does not need to go without eating." Reemagar rose and motioned for the two boys to rise too. Reemagar didn't ask them to walk down two flights of marble steps and then traverse endless corridors and hallways to get to their mother's suite in the residential wing. Reemagar folded them in.
"Go ahead, she will not wake." Connegar sat in a very large chair next to their mother's bed. He'd brought something in with power—the chair didn't match anything they had inside the palace.
"She always looks so little in this huge bed," Tory whispered.
"Your mother presents a much larger image to those around her—she is powerful, you know," Connegar said gently. "It is only when she sleeps, or on the rare occasions when she relaxes that she shows herself as she truly is."
Ry nodded and sat on the side of the bed. He took his mother's left hand in his; there were rings on nearly every finger of both hands—several on some fingers. One for each of her Inner Circle mates. Gavin's ring was the largest, and had a huge diamond in the center surrounded by swirls of smaller diamonds. Many people across the Alliance had copied that ring and many wives of important men proudly wore something similar. All the Inner Circle mates had a ring, too—a large gold signet ring with the claw crown engraved upon it. That ring was guarded carefully and no one was allowed to copy it. It was the official seal for the Queen of Le-Ath Veronis.
"I will wake her, if you will help us convince her to eat," Connegar smiled. Ry smiled back—it was rare to see two Larentii smiling on the same day.
"How is she?" Thurlow, whom Ry and Tory hadn't seen in nearly a month, walked in with Norian. Thurlow must have gone to get Norian—he'd been on Hraede to handle some business there. Thurlow sometimes had the same feel about him that Kifirin had, only to a lesser degree. And he didn't blow smoke as Kifirin did at times. Thurlow had dark hair and a slightly crooked nose; otherwise, he would have been quite handsome. As it is, he still drew interest whenever he was off-planet.
"As well as can be expected," Connegar replied to Thurlow's question. "She should eat, though, before she becomes nauseous."
"When will we know who the father is?" Norian asked.
"The Wise Ones do not wish to give out that information for a while," Connegar replied.
"So they want to leave us in the dark." Norian wasn't happy and Ry and Tory both knew it. "We'll all have our hopes up, and then get disappointed."
"Will this make you treat her any differently?" Reemagar asked.
"You should know better than that," Norian snapped. "We all think of these children as ours in some way."
"Then think of this one as yours as well." Connegar rose from his chair and made it disappear with a thought. "Wake her, young one." Connegar tapped Ry on the shoulder. Ry nodded and leaned down to touch his mother's shoulder.
"Mom, wake up and come eat," Ry said softly. He knew his mother would hear—could have heard from across the room, even.
"Honey, what are you doing?" The Queen's eyes opened slowly.
"Trying to get you up so you can have dinner with us," Tory said over Ry's shoulder.
"I don't know," the Queen sat up with Connegar's assistance. "I feel queasy."
"If you will eat, that will subside," Connegar pointed out.
"Are you going to be like this for the next seven months?" Queen Lissa swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was still dressed in the same clothing she'd worn to the Council meeting. "I need to change."
"Here," Connegar used power to change what the Queen wore. She now had denim pants and a stretchy shirt on. She looked down at her outfit.
"I sure hope the others don't freak when I show up at the table looking like this."
"I do not care what you have on, you will come eat. Now." Gavin was there and pulling her off the bed. "Come along, young ones. We will stand over her if necessary and make sure she eats."
Ry grinned at Tory as they followed Gavin and their mother from the royal suite.
* * *
Calebert sat across from Glendes, Eldest of Grey House, in Glendes' private study. "I can't fault her work," Calebert stated. "But Nissa takes so long to accomplish a single task. She should be working much faster than this."
"What do you have her doing?" Glendes had the tips of his fingers together as he watched the Master Wizard of the Weapons Division carefully.
"Cleaning rust from daggers and blades," Calebert replied. Nissa was Glendes' great-granddaughter, and it grieved him to bring this news to Glendes. "It takes her an entire day to clean a single dagger, and it takes two days to do a sword. She should be taking an hour at the most for a smaller blade."
"Have you talked to her about it?"
"Several times." Calebert blew out a sigh. Calebert's short vest was dyed yellow—the color of the Weapons Division of Grey House. Glendes wore the black
robes of the Eldest of his clan. Calebert picked at a loose thread on his vest for a moment, before repairing it with power.
"Do you think we shouldn't try to train her?" Glendes asked, tapping his fingers together. Calebert recognized the gesture—Glendes was agitated.
"No, I didn't say that. She has ability. I'm just not sure it's being directed properly."
"When was the last time you spoke with her?"
"Today."
"Then give it a few more days. If she doesn't improve, I will talk with her." Glendes dropped his hands. That was his way of telling Calebert the interview was over. Calebert rose, dipped his head respectfully and left Glendes' study.
* * *
Nissa sat at a corner table in the family dining hall, away from anyone else. Her father was working late again, as he usually did. Grandfather Raffian was working too, and there wasn't anyone else near her age to have dinner with or talk to. She picked at her chicken dish. Calebert had gotten onto her again today. He couldn't understand why it took her so long to clean the rust from the daggers and swords. Nissa didn't know, either. He'd said to make them look like new. That command was what she concentrated on when she worked on them.
They gleamed as if newly made when she handed them in for inspection, but quality wasn't what they were looking for, apparently. Nissa wished for her mother in times like these, and wished that her father hadn't limited her mindspeech ability. She and her brothers all had it, but it had been muted so they couldn't get into trouble by using it at inappropriate times. If Nissa could have, she'd have sent mindspeech to her mother already.
"Don't forget the report that's due tomorrow." Her schoolmaster, Fourth-Tier Wizard Moris said as he passed her table. His words caused Nissa to slump over her dinner—she was only half done with the report and now she'd have to stay up as late as possible and turn in what might be substandard work.
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