Bone War

by Steven Harper

Unless there was some other reason she wanted the Sword.

  The sounds of the endless camp clattered and clanged behind them. Smells of smoke and cooking food drifted on the air. The fairies pulled three more Talfis from the tree with a wet sliding noise and threw them into the river.

  “My poor prince.” Queen Gwylph couldn’t seem to keep her hands off Ranadar’s face. She touched it or patted his hair with a maternal thrill on her face. It made Talfi a little ill. “How did you stand it? Filthy humans and their filthy iron. You must have been miserable! But you are home now. We will hold your coronation immediately!”

  Ranadar cocked his head. “Coronation?”

  “Of course. Now that your father is … no more, you will be king beside me. Or rather, beneath me.” She grinned, a little too wide. “You will be such an asset, Ranadka, when we wake the flesh golems and crush Balsia. And we must invade Xaron again. The orcs should not be allowed to rally, and it is such fun to hear the wyrms pop on the end of a sword.”

  Talfi’s gut tightened further, and Ranadar went pale. “Mother, you swore that you would never again invade Kin land if I came home. I am home. You must keep up your end.”

  “Oh, my son.” She reached out to touch his cheek again. “Living among the Kin has addled your brain. I promised to do as you asked. You asked me to free Talfi and the other flesh golems. This I did. You only said you wanted me never to invade again. You never asked.”

  “No.” Ranadar’s voice was shaky. “Mother, I came home for you. You cannot—”

  The elf queen seized Ranadar by the throat with one gauntleted hand and lifted him bodily off the ground. He choked and his feet swung like a hanged man’s. Ranadar clawed at his mother’s arm, but he might as well have clawed at a stone. Talfi was so shocked he couldn’t move. Gwylph’s voice became deep and harsh. “Do not tell me what I cannot do, boy. You will sit on the throne while you obey my every command. You will rule the world while I rule Ashkame, or you will spend your days begging for Death to ram her knitting needles through your skull!”

  A shout rang from under the tree. Other Talfi burst forward and, with a speed Talfi knew as his own, snatched the Bone Sword from the queen’s belt. Surprise riveted her. She gave a tiny gasp as Other Talfi plunged the blade through her armor and into her chest.

  A soft moment passed. Ranadar froze in his mother’s grip. Gwylph looked down at the sword hilt sticking out of her chest. Her body quivered. With a small sound, she released Ranadar. He dropped panting to the ground. Talfi gaped, rooted to the spot. Other Talfi backed up a step with a wild look in his blue eyes.

  “Never touch Ran!” he shouted. “Never!”

  A number of other Fae had noticed what was happening, and they rushed toward their queen. With a tilt of her head, the queen seized the Bone Sword hilt and drew it carefully out of her chest. It made a quiet sound, like a leaf dragging across dead flesh. The wound left no blood behind. Talfi felt the world turn inside out.

  “Vik!” he breathed.

  “No,” whispered Other Talfi, still standing before her.

  “Mother!” Ranadar choked, one hand on his throat. “What have you done to yourself?”

  The queen swept the blade in an ivory arc and sliced off Other Talfi’s head. His head dropped to the ground and rolled away. There was little blood. Other Talfi’s body collapsed to its knees just behind Ranadar, who scrambled out of the way.

  Queen Gwylph swung the sword again before the body could fall farther. She cleaved Other Talfi in two from neck to groin. Again and again the queen swung, and the Bone Sword slipped through pink flesh, yellow bone, and glistening organs like paper, reducing Other Talfi to a pile of inert flesh. The raw smell of it tinted the air.

  The queen finished with a flourish. Talfi couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. A moment ago, Other Talfi had been walking and talking and alive—yes, alive! He had memories and he liked the color red and he helped dig Talfi out of the earthquake rubble. The queen had butchered him like a cow.

  The other Fae arrived, but the queen waved them off with the Bone Sword. They retreated, but only a few yards.

  “How could you?” Talfi said in a near whisper. He wanted to fling himself at the queen, but the Bone Sword and the other Fae kept him from it.

  “That was so sweet,” the queen cooed. “The flesh golem loved you, Ranadka. I made them better than I thought. Do all of them feel that way? Or just the ones you have pierced?”

  Tears streamed down Talfi’s face. “He was alive,” he said, and even though he had never said the words before, he knew he believed them now. “He had a right to live, just like anyone else.”

  “That must be an awkward position for you to take,” said the queen affably. “If you believe the flesh golems are alive, and if they all feel the same animal lust for my son that you do, then you must feel they all have the same right to his … love that you do. I would love to see bedtime.”

  “Mother.” Ranadar coughed and pushed himself to his feet. “I have never heard you speak this way or act this way. Your body has changed. You have changed. How?”

  She turned the full brunt of her smile on him, but although Talfi could see the glamour, it had no effect on him. It was like eating with his nose pinched shut—all texture and no taste. It didn’t affect Ranadar, either.

  “I am more myself than ever before, son,” she said. “The Bone Sword removed my heart and released my true self. So liberating! Like breathing for the first time. Like drinking seawater all my life and then tasting wine. I could show you.”

  “The Bone Sword should have killed you,” Ranadar said.

  She waved the pale blade in a hypnotic pattern. Shadows fell across the runes and etched them deep into the ivory. “The Bone Sword cannot kill me, darling,” she countered. “Not when it saved me.”

  Ranadar rubbed his throat. “I do not understand, Mother.”

  “You were always simple, just like your father.” Gwylph slid the Bone Sword back into her belt and pulled on her hauberk. The chain mail was cut where Other Talfi had sliced it with the Bone Sword, and the links parted just far enough to show Gwylph’s sternum. The bloodless wound Other Talfi had dealt her was already vanishing, and beneath it was a longer scar, pink and shiny as a baby mouse.

  “You see?” she said. “I felt the Sword’s presence in the world the moment that hairy-twatted ogre Vesha created it, and I have been trying to lay hands on it ever since. A means eluded me until Pendra’s power gave me a deeper understanding of the Twist, and I found the box Vesha gave that troll’s boy. That was a good day. So much screaming. Like music.”

  Talfi barely heard. The Bone Sword was calling to him again. He wanted to touch it, run his fingers down the deliciously thin edge, even let it cut him just a little, to see what it felt like.

  “The Bone Sword cannot kill me,” the queen finished. “Nothing can. I have the power of a Gardener trapped in that tree, and I have become immortal. Soon, I will conquer this world and take my rightful place as a Fate. And you will help me.”

  An awful understanding crossed Ranadar’s face. “You cut your own heart out and put it into the ash tree with Pendra. It stops you from dying and connects you to Pendra so you can use her power,” he said hoarsely. “Oh, Mother. I cannot help you. I do not think anyone can.”

  The queen made an upward gesture with one finger. Ranadar stiffened and his chin came up. His nostrils flared, and further words died in his throat. Gwylph drew the Bone Sword and casually sliced Ranadar’s tunic open from throat to navel. She left a thin trail of blood behind. Talfi’s heart nearly burst in his chest with fear and outrage. The queen set the point of the Bone Sword at his throat.

  “I know what you are feeling,” she said, a little too cheerfully. “You are angry and outraged and you are in love. A mother knows. When that troll’s boy killed your father, I felt the same outrage. I wanted to kill every Stane in the world, and crush every Kin who had helped them. I wanted to listen to their screams beneath my toes. I railed ag
ainst the Nine and the Three and Death herself, and I decided to do something about it. I understand your love and outrage, my son, because I feel the same.”

  “And what do you feel now?” Ranadar said through tight teeth. “Do you love me now?”

  The queen gave a sad shake of her head. “I understand but do not sympathize. I understand you the way a butcher understands a cow. You are a disappointment, my weak little Ranashka. You father no children, not even bastards. Your magic is limp. You hide in the forest and pout over the death of a human toy. Worst of all, you betrayed me. How could I hold my head high as queen when my son followed his scrotum to live among Kin?”

  Talfi watched the words fall on Ranadar like lumps of granite. He went limp beneath their terrible weight. Even in his precarious position, Talfi felt his pain and wanted desperately to go to him and comfort him even as he raged at the queen for saying such things to her own son.

  “So what now, Mother?” Ranadar whispered. He was still upright, head held high by her magic.

  “The Bone Sword,” she said, and sighed beatifically. “One clean cut, and all that foolish outrage and fear and love vanishes like a troll’s courage. You cannot imagine the relief! I know it does not sound palatable to you now, but when it is over, you will thank me. We will cut your heart out and place it in the tree next to mine, my darling. Forever.”

  Sick nausea oozed out of Talfi’s stomach and into his chest. It was hard to breathe. The possessive look Gwylph was giving her own son made Talfi’s skin crawl with snakes and worms. The awful pile of meat that had been Other Talfi lay on the ground, gathering flies, adding to Talfi’s nausea. He cast about for something to do but came up empty. The group of Fae was still watching from its vantage point a few paces away, and Talfi was still in the middle of an army. Things couldn’t get worse.

  “There will be no world to rule if you continue with this madness, Mother,” Ranadar said in a shaky voice. “The Tree is tipping, and this time it will destroy the world. Please, Mother. If you remember anything about how you once felt for me, end it. Release Pendra, and I swear I will do anything you want.”

  “Would you?” For a long moment, she fixed him with hard emerald eyes; then she lowered him to the ground with a gesture. “Very well, then. Repudiate your love for the human boy.”

  Talfi’s legs weakened. Ranadar’s mouth fell open and his eyes automatically sought Talfi’s. Talfi swallowed hard, unsure what the queen meant. Another Talfi went into the river with a splash.

  “Repudiate,” Ranadar said slowly.

  “Yes.” The queen leaned forward with soft glee. Her armor clanked. “Give him up, and I will release Pendra from that tree over there.”

  “No tricks?” Ranadar said. He licked his lips and looked about like an animal that had just realized it was trapped in a cage. Talfi’s heart was pounding again. Ranadar said, “No semantics? You will follow the spirit and not the word?”

  “I will.” She drew the Bone Sword. “I swear on this blade.”

  “I …” Ranadar looked at Talfi again. Talfi’s head spun. He stumbled toward Ranadar. One of the Fae moved to stop him, but the queen held up a hand. Ranadar caught Talfi around the shoulders.

  “My Talashka,” Ranadar said. His eyes were filling up.

  “You have to do it,” Talfi said hoarsely. “It’ll save the world. We don’t matter against all that.”

  “How can you be so cruel, Mother?” Ranadar said over Talfi’s head. “Just free Pendra. Why torment me?”

  “It is for your own good,” Gwylph said.

  Ranadar sighed heavily. Talfi felt Ranadar’s arms around him, solid and strong. Inside, Talfi’s heart was falling to pieces. He couldn’t think of what it would be like.

  “It will not hurt,” Gwylph said, noting his distress. “Truly. That is how the repudiation will work.”

  “What do you mean?” Talfi demanded.

  “Ranadar will not simply swear he no longer loves you,” the queen said with a small smile. “That would hardly be enough, would it? Your love must be removed entirely.”

  “You can’t remove love!” Talfi said.

  “I can remove memory.” The queen sheathed the Bone Sword. “It will take but a moment, spiderweb soft, and you will forget your disgusting love. You will remember everything else—every sloppy kiss, every sticky fumbling, every poke and prod—but you will not remember the love. That is my price.”

  Her words punched Talfi’s heart with an obsidian fist. He couldn’t breathe. He had no strength, no bones. Ranadar would truly remember Talfi as a toy, a thing to be discarded. It was worse than anything he had imagined.

  “You can do that,” Ranadar said in a horrified voice. “Make me forget I love him?”

  “Of course not,” the queen said, genuinely surprised. “You are Fae and my son. I cannot tamper with your memory.” She pointed at Talfi. “I speak of him.”

  “Me?” Talfi’s mouth went dry. “How do you mean me?”

  “I will remove that part of your memory. Are you not used to it, boy? Once you have forgotten your love, I will cut my son’s heart out with the Bone Sword, and he will no longer love you at all.”

  “Why both of us?” Ranadar was white-lipped now.

  “If either of you is allowed to harbor this foolish love, you will spend your days trying to rekindle it in the other,” the queen said primly. “This will ensure that it ends.”

  Walls were closing in around Talfi. There was no way out. The rest of his life, his long, undying life, would be spent without any hint of love for Ranadar, not even the memory of it. “You’re willing to give up being a Gardener for this?” he said, hating the plaintive note in his voice but unable to keep it out.

  “I always was, child,” she said.

  “But you’re still going to invade,” Talfi said.

  “I am. You cannot stop that. But I will free Pendra from her tree.”

  Ranadar grabbed Talfi’s hand, and a jumble of emotions rocked him. Hatred for the queen. Despair for the upcoming loss. Fear for what his life was becoming. And through it all, a love, a need for Ranadar. He met Ranadar’s eyes again and he saw hesitancy there. Ranadar was ready to refuse. He would let the Nine Worlds die rather than let Talfi go.

  “My uppity elf,” Talfi said, and his voice caught.

  “Talashka,” he replied softly. “There must be another—”

  Talfi raised his voice. “Do it!”

  “Truly?” The queen looked triumphant. “Once I take your memories, they vanish forever. Not even the Nine can rebuild them.”

  “I said do it,” Talfi said, still clutching Ranadar’s hand. It was like holding both their hearts. He could feel Ranadar’s pulse beating with his own, and he never wanted to let go. He held on to the sensation, kept it close. She could not make him forget everything.

  “Done!” The queen pressed her hand against Talfi’s forehead and pulled it back. A ribbon of multicolored light followed her fingers. It coiled into her palm. The world shifted, took a hint of a tilt. Talfi leaned sideways, and only Ranadar’s grip on his hand kept him upright. The queen drew the Bone Sword and swiped it through the coil of light. It shattered with a pop and vanished.

  *

  “It is done,” said the queen.Talfi realized he was still holding Ranadar’s hand. It was rough and dry in his. Strange to be holding the hand of an elf. He pulled away and wiped his palm against his trousers. Ranadar made a small sound and turned away, as if he had something in his eye, but Talfi didn’t care. Why should he? Ranadar was just an elf.

  Talfi’s mind shifted. He remembered. He remembered slipping away with Ranadar from the palace at Palana, walking in moonlight, stealing kisses, listening to Ranadar sing. He remembered giving his life for Ranadar, and more than once. He remembered laughing over their archery contests. And he remembered countless times of moving his body against Ranadar’s. His skin prickled and a small shudder worked its way over him. He had prostituted himself to an elf. Talfi felt sick.

 
“You have cut my heart out once already, Mother,” Ranadar said quietly. “Are you ready to do it a second time, then?”

  “In a moment,” said the queen.

  “You have to fulfill the bargain,” Ranadar insisted. “You will free Pendra.”

  “Of course I will. But first—”

  The queen snapped her fingers and a pair of flesh golems, both disfigured, dragged over a golden tub, intricately inlaid with silver ash branches and ivy. Gwylph drew the Bone Sword and pointed with it at the tree. Ranadar flinched. Talfi watched warily. Now what?

  “The fairies feed blood to Pendra, and she produces a full flesh golem for us,” Gwlyph said. “But we are running out of material.”

  Hard hands seized Talfi from behind. White-hot fear ripped through him and he struggled, but the flesh golems behind him were too strong. With hands exactly like his own because they were his own, they hauled him over to the tub and bent him backward over it. The bow on his back pressed awkwardly into his skin. Gwylph’s face came into view above him. He looked up at the queen, into her glassy emerald eyes, and saw nothing behind them. No mortal sympathy, no love, no empathy. Her heart was long gone. She waved the Bone Sword under his nose, and his skin cried out for its touch.

  “Mother, no!” Ranadar roared. He dashed toward them, but the queen gestured again and Ranadar flew backward. With a grunt, he plowed into the ground, sending up a cloud of dead leaves.

  The queen said to Talfi, “You like this sword, child. I can see it.” Her voice was silk. Water. A leaf on a cold breeze. “Enjoy this, then.”

  The golems held Talfi’s arms outstretched in fleshy hands while the queen slashed open his chest with the Bone Sword. He felt the blade whisper through skin, muscle, and bone, but the white-hot pain that sliced through him also exhilarated him. It was delicious agony, delightful pain, happy anguish. He wanted more even as he babbled at the queen to stop. Ranadar was screaming somewhere in the distance, but Talfi barely heard. The queen’s grinning face loomed over him, filled his universe with pleasurable pain.

  “I will release Pendra,” she said. “But first your flesh and blood will create a hundred, a thousand, a million, golems for me.”