The Coral Kingdom

by Douglas Niles

  They glided along the watery passage for perhaps half an hour, and each twist and turn of the channel brought new wonders to their eyes, Synnorian and human alike. Birds of brilliant colors—bright red, emerald green, or deep, flashing blue—fluttered from tree to tree. At one place, a great hawk, pure white except for streaks of black on its folded wings, watched them from a lofty branch, its eyes glittering with intelligence.

  In some places, the channel broadened to a wide pool, and occasionally they saw young elves splashing along the shores of these, swimming with carefree glee, pausing to stare in openmouthed wonder at the flowered canoe—or more likely, realized Alicia, at the strange and alien occupants of that graceful craft.

  Finally, after a sudden twist in the channel, the forest fell away on either side, and the waterway flowed into a broad, placid lake. Across its mirrored surface, glittering with a beauty and majesty that took their breath away, the Summer Palace of Evermeet rose into the skies, in an obvious attempt to rival the glories of the heavens themselves.

  The palace seemed to fly at first, like a gorgeous silver cloud. Turrets and towers of diamond, silver, and glass gleamed with millions of facets, expanding the light of the sun until the palace rivaled even that fiery orb in brightness.

  Four massive pyramids, each hundreds of feet high, stood at the corners of the lofty palace, supporting the flat floor of clear crystal that formed the bottom of the structure itself. The whole thing remained poised in the air far above the lake. Wide stairways led up the pyramids, which seemed to sit on the water’s surface, the summit of each forming one corner of the square base of the palace.

  From these four corners, the palace rose dramatically. The platform was unwalled. Apparently its placement two hundred feet above the middle of a lake was enough to deter armed assault. Who knew, Alicia reminded herself, if war even existed upon Evermeet?

  The keep soared upward for hundreds more feet and was surrounded by gleaming towers that climbed even higher. Narrow spires emerged from the center of the huge structure, and bridges of glass or silver—sometimes supported by weblike strands of golden cables, other times apparently freestanding arches—connected the highest towers and descended in graceful sweeps to the keep.

  Alicia could not express her astonishment and wonder. Any words occurring to her seemed hopelessly mundane, even insulting, when used to describe a work of such consummate grace and beauty.

  The first dose of reality came as they approached the base of the nearest pyramid, where finally the princess could see a wooden landing encircling the base of the stone edifice. Here stood a rank of crimson-coated guards, each armed with a sword and a shield. Above them, arrayed on the steps of the pyramid and seeming to extend into the sky itself, stood rank upon rank of elven archers, each holding a wooden longbow with a silver-tipped arrow nocked and ready for attack.

  “Peace,” Robyn murmured to the hard-faced guard who stood at the landing barring her path. He blinked in momentary confusion, then stepped back to study her with wary eyes.

  “This way,” the guard announced curtly, gesturing to the steps leading upward. As if there were any other way to go, Alicia thought. His eyes swept past the princess and came to rest on Brigit, flaring again with unrestrained hostility.

  They really are upset that she brought us here, realized Alicia, wondering again at the generosity that had compelled Brigit to lead them.

  Slowly, with a sense of awe and dignity, they made their way up the broad, steep stairway. The ranks of archers parted to let them pass, but some always remained ahead of them, backing smoothly up the stairs, all too ready to bring their weapons in line with the hearts of their “guests.”

  Alicia risked a look over her shoulder, where space yawned below her, yielding a vista of treetops and, far beyond, a line of blue sea, but immediately she felt a wave of vertigo sweep over her. Swinging her eyes back to the steps in front of her, she steadied her nerves and resumed the steady pace of the climb. The elves and her mother, she noted with annoyance, seemed to accept the climb with equanimity, even though Robyn had still not fully recovered from her ordeal sustaining the wind spell.

  Finally they reached the crystal platform at the top of the pyramidical stairway. Now they could see that all four sides of the foundation provided access to the structure, as well as landings below for boats. Alicia’s eyes were inexorably drawn upward, toward the crystal walls and glittering towers that filled her vision.

  Twin phalanxes of elven warriors, standing on the glasslike floor, greeted them, bearing gleaming halberds held upright to form two rows of weapons. The formation also created an obvious aisle connecting the stairway to the entrance to the palace.

  Their escorting guards stepped off the solid stone of the pyramid onto the transparent floor, and Alicia had to force herself to follow. She looked at her feet and beyond as she walked across a surface as clear as the air. The sensation grew increasingly unnerving the farther they moved from the pyramid, until soon only a surface of blue water was visible two hundred feet below. The princess noted that even the water below the multi-tiered palace was sun-dappled and gleaming. This immense structure apparently cast no shadow.

  They crossed what might have been called a courtyard in a typical castle if it had been surrounded by a wall, with good, solid earth underfoot. Now it seemed like a test of nerves. Gradually they grew nearer their goal.

  Once again Alicia found that her sense of perspective deceived her. The doors were much larger and farther away than she had first thought. They seemed to be made of solid gold, placed in the palace wall that was itself as clear as crystal. The princess noted to her surprise that even though she looked through the wall, it didn’t seem as if she saw inside the palace. It was more as if she looked right out the other side pf the massive structure onto a vista of lake and forest and sky.

  Then she forgot everything else as, with a whispering sound as soft as a breeze, the golden doors began to swing open.

  * * * * *

  The man burned with hatred, a hot fire fanned by the bellows of a slowly returning memory. The scaly figure walked across the floor toward him, and the man’s fury became a grim and deadly determination. Strange, he thought. There must have been some good things in my life. Why is it that the anger, the need for vengeance, comes back so strong?

  He shook off the question, knowing that it was trivial. His vengeance was important, and not just for the slaking of his rage. It was important for his very survival.

  He viewed the leering sahuagin through narrowed lids, saw the approaching bottle extended for the presumably dazed man to swill. Though he determined to thwart the creature’s intentions, the man bore no illusions as to his ability to overcome the monster. Another memory returned. Though he had experienced many battles with the fishmen, the man had never seen a sahugain as large as this.

  Instead, the prisoner played along, groaning sleepily, slurping at the vessel, spilling a great deal of the drink from the corners of his mouth, letting it trickle through his beard while his throat went through the bobbing action of swallowing. Finally, the flask empty, the hulking fish creature turned and flapped away, diving into the pool and disappearing.

  Immediately the man rolled from his hard bunk and vomited, retching continuously, miserably, until he had nothing left inside of him.

  After he had drunk some water and rinsed himself off, he felt the reawakening of anger. I will make it suffer; I will destroy it.

  The intent was a blanket future for the man, a life’s goal condensed into the image of a hateful creature who had drugged and maimed him. The man’s purpose seemed clear, but even as he considered it, another shred of thought came to him.

  A fit purpose for a man it may be … and I am a man. But somewhere in the back of his mind a voice whispered to him, speaking softly but convincingly: you are more than a man.

  How? The question followed, and he puzzled it through. How can I be more than a man? And then he knew the answer, and another piece of his
being fell into place.

  Because I am a king.

  * * * * *

  Hanrald stood at the rail of the stranded Princess of Moonshae. He looked to the west, where the sun continued its descent over the elvenhome. If anything, he thought angrily, Evermeet looks even more beautiful in the light of sunset.

  But not half so beautiful as the one his mind drifted toward with inexorable longing. Indeed, as her female features etched themselves in his mind, as her golden hair swirled around the face that smiled just for him, the earl’s brain focused with unrelenting diligence on the impossible love that had seized and transformed his heart.

  He thought, with surprise, how quickly he had earlier felt himself to be in love—and now at how fleeting that emotion had seemed.

  For it was no longer Alicia Kendrick who occupied the thoughts of the proud knight. His feelings for her, in the light of memory, seemed no more than youthful infatuation.

  Instead, Hanrald thought bitterly, his heart’s longing had turned from one who was distant, perhaps unattainable, to one whose affections must inevitably remain aloof. For the Earl of Fairheight understood beyond doubt that he loved Brigit Cu-’Lyrran, Mistress Captain of the Sisters of Synnoria.

  * * * * *

  “Let Her Majesty ask the questions,” Trillhalla coached as they passed down a long corridor of crystal walls, each of which seemed to provide a different vista of the placid lake and its pastoral valley, or of the seacoast beyond.

  Alicia didn’t need to be reminded. She was so overawed by these surroundings that she wondered if she’d have the composure to answer a question, much less to do any interrogating of her own.

  Then abruptly they passed around a corner that Alicia hadn’t even seen before them, coming to a stop before another pair of grandiose doors. Like the palace entrance, these seemed to be made of purest gold and swung inward with the same whisper of sound.

  The princess had to restrain an audible gasp as they stepped into the throne room of Queen Amlaruil of Evermeet. There was no mistaking the monarch, for her throne of diamond-and-ruby-encrusted platinum hovered a full thirty feet above the floor, in the center of a chamber brighter and far more dazzling than anything the humans had ever seen.

  It makes even the Argen-Tellirynd of Chrysalis seem like a farmer’s shed by comparison! The thought, shocking in its truth, further awed the Princess of Callidyrr.

  The great floor of the chamber was empty, but unlike the corridor and courtyard of the palace, this surface was visible as interlocking tiles of black, white, and red. The room itself was unbelievably vast. To Alicia’s eyes, it seemed far larger than the keep itself, of which this was but a part. Gradually she realized that a very subtle mirrored effect of the crystal panels in the walls seemed to expand the space to almost limitless dimensions without mirroring the images of the occupants of the room.

  Galleries lined the walls facing the queen’s throne, each occupied by a small party of elven nobles or warriors, all of whom watched the visitors with keen interest and obvious suspicion. Beyond the queen there were fewer galleries, each of these occupied by a single, elegantly dressed elf, most of them elderly females. They’re the Council of Matrons, Alicia remembered from Brigit’s description.

  The four women approached the center of the room, the walk taking a very long time, during which the throne of the elven queen slowly descended until it was perhaps ten feet over the floor of the chamber.

  Trillhalla, quickly followed by Brigit, knelt and bowed deeply to the monarch. Alicia bowed formally, though she did not kneel. The High Queen of the Ffolk regarded this elfwoman as an equal, nodding her head politely in response to a similar gesture on the part of Queen Amlaruil.

  The regal monarch was the most beautiful creature Alicia had ever seen. Even displayed as she was amidst a dozen fortunes’ worth of gems and precious metal, she shone as a jewel that paled all the others to insignificance. Her eyes were very large, in the teardrop shape of the elves, a deep, warm green in color. Her face was slender, but her high cheekbones and firm chin gave her a look of authority that lay like steel beneath the velvet of her beauty. Hair of coppery red fell to her bare shoulders but was then swept into a clasp at the side of her head, where the strands gathered into the image of a soft-petaled rose.

  The queen’s eyes flicked past the humans after making a brief but thorough appraisal, coming to rest on the captain of the Synnorian horsewomen. Brigit had risen to her feet beside Trillhalla.

  “Sister knight, you are known to us as an elf of courage and supposedly good judgement.” The queen’s tone was cold, her words clipped. “Tell me immediately why you bring these humans to Evermeet!”

  “The tale is a long one, Your Majesty, and extraordinary, as you must know by our presence here. It begins with the closing of the Fey-Alamtine. That circumstance, as you doubtless realize, had as great an impact upon Synnoria as upon Evermeet.”

  Brigit spoke bluntly, and the elven monarch nodded as if she saw the point of the knight’s last remark.

  “Yes—the destruction of the gate is a most grievous affair.”

  “It was followed by an attack against Synnoria by a beast from the earliest nightmares of our people. We suffered the onslaught of Ityak-Ortheel, the Elf-Eater!”

  The princess was satisfied by the sound of gasps and murmured comments suddenly echoing around the huge chamber. The report of the Elf-Eater’s attack was obviously news to Evermeet, and anything that shook them out of their complacency was, to Alicia’s mind, a benefit.

  Brigit went on to describe the horror of the attack. Though she spoke without passion, in a clearly factual tone, there was none present who remained unaffected by the visual images: the trout farm’s destruction, the Elf-Eater’s march to Chrysalis across the watery causeway, the doomed charges by the sister knights, and the ultimate blasphemy, the destruction of the Argen-Tellirynd.

  “Only the humans, with their sorcery—and their courage-could match the monster and, in the end, drive it away,” continued the sister knight, warming to her topic. She described the intervention of the Ffolk as the decisive factor that it was. Finally, though it slightly altered the chronology of her recounting, she told them of Lord Pawldo’s heroic sacrifice.

  Next she recounted the reason the humans had come to Synnoria and that she had sailed with them to Evermeet. “Without the means to carry the fight beneath the seas, they must forever yield to the enemies who hold their king. But we elves once had ships, I know, that could sail under the water. All the humans ask—our friends, these humans!—all they ask, Excellency, is for the tool that will allow them to fight their battle.”

  Brigit sighed softly. A long time had passed, though no noise had disturbed her speech.

  “Your Majesty, there is another compelling reason for us to aid these humans. The Moonshae Isles, of which Synnoria is a part, are beset by a menace that, I am certain, is tied in to the same force that has closed the gate and released Ityak-Ortheel from its nether hell. If we provide them with a vessel that they can take beneath the sea and strike at the heart of these evils, I believe that we shall find in that undoing the key to restoring our own valley to normalcy!

  “They came to us in need, and yet their help has saved Synnoria so that the Fey-Alamtine can be restored! The very least we can do is answer their need with the power that we have at our disposal.”

  “You make a very compelling case,” said Queen Amlaruil, nodding in apparently pleased response to Brigit. “It is as I expected—even anticipated.”

  Alicia couldn’t keep her astonishment silent, forgetting for the moment Trillhalla’s instructions about questions. “You expected us to come?” she asked.

  “The Summer Palace is not always here at Dalloch-Krystas. I brought it here this year for the first time in more than twenty-five summers to place it near the Siiluth, the Beaching Bay,” replied the queen, as if that explained everything. If she had minded Alicia’s question, she gave no indication, but the princess saw many of the c
ourtiers on the balconies behind the queen glowering at her with unfriendly expressions.

  “It is my command that the sea elves shall install a Helm of Zulae to the figurehead of your ship. This is the artifact you seek. It will take your ship beneath the surface of the sea. I entrust you, Brigit Cu’Lyrran, to ensure that it is returned to Synnoria at the conclusion of your quest.” She paused, her expression wistful. “I wish you luck in your efforts to rescue King Tristan. He deserves a better fate.”

  For a moment, the three visitors gaped, stunned that they had succeeded. Trillhalla, meanwhile, gestured them to the door. The interview was obviously over.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Robyn, with a deep bow to the throne before she turned to follow the sea elf.

  “The ship repairs!” Alicia whispered to Trillhalla. “We need to ask her about those!”

  “No—not yet!” replied the sea elf, hoarsely. “You must settle for this.”

  But Alicia had already turned and, taking several steps toward the throne, addressed the regal elfwoman.

  “Your Majesty, your generosity has given us a chance of success. I beg you, please, to increase those chances. Grant us the means to see our ship repaired. The hull was heavily damaged as we passed the cyclones and escaped your Warder.”

  “I’m not surprised,” replied the queen, with a trace of a sniff to her tone. “No other human craft has ever survived those perils before now!”

  “Can you not, in your generosity, grant us a sheltered harbor and some tools—a forge, and saws, and tar?”

  “I see that you humans listen to instructions as well as I have always been taught to expect,” noted Queen Amlaruil. This time there was no ignoring the sarcasm in her tone, but Alicia held her ground. After a moment, the monarch continued. “You may bring your crew ashore, but they must remain within two hundred feet of your ship. You can ask for supplies and we shall bring them to you. Under no circumstances are you to forage into the country of Evermeet, else I shall not be responsible for the consequences.”