The Red Queen

by Isobelle Carmody

  “You spoke of Dragon’s past before,” Swallow said. “I know she is the daughter of the Red Queen and that she was washed ashore here after falling from a Gadfian slave ship, but I have not heard this tale of betrayal. Did she tell you of it?”

  “Some of it. The rest I saw in her mind, when I went into her coma dream to try to find a way to bring her to wakefulness,” I said. I told them everything I knew, from the distorted dream-memories of her childhood in the Red Land to the fact that she was descended from the first Red Queen, who had been a close friend of the Beforetime woman Cassandra. I told them what I knew of the relationship between the first Red Queen and Cassandra, after she had led the Beforetime Misfits to the Red Land, including the fact that Cassandra had bonded with the queen’s brother and had later borne a son by him after traveling to the Land.

  “Then Dragon has some connection to the D’rekta,” Swallow said when I stopped to drink some water. Before I could answer, he gave a choked exclamation, his eyes widening. “Ye gods, we are related by blood, for I am a direct descendant of the D’rekta who was Cassandra, and Dragon is descended from the Red Queen!”

  “What is it?” Analivia asked, coming over to the fire to join us.

  “Cassandra bonded with the Red Queen’s brother,” Swallow said. “But he died before she came to the Land carrying his son?”

  I nodded in confirmation.

  “Was the name of the queen’s brother Luthen?” I asked.

  Swallow stared at me in amazement, and then he smiled. “The safe passage statue! You guessed it was Cassandra’s dead bondmate.”

  I nodded. “He looked like the statue of Evander that I saw on Stonehill. It was your own sister’s memories that told me who he was. At first I thought the safe passage statue was he and that Cassandra must have futuretold his appearance, because of course she left the Land before he was grown to full manhood.”

  The others were gaping at us both now, and I gave a soft laugh and bade Swallow tell them what he would of the D’rekta, for my throat was raw and I had to relieve myself. Setting Maruman down, I went outside into the canyon. The breeze was pleasantly cool on my hot face, but it was very dark. I looked up to see that clouds had completely closed in overhead and I could not even see where the moon was in the sky.

  I wondered where the wolves were. That they had not come at dusk had surprised me, and it was so late now that I doubted they would come before the next dusk. I was weary enough from what had passed and uneasy enough about what lay ahead not to mind the thought of spending a whole day in the canyon, though I wished I might farseek Rheagor to find out what had happened. But even if I could have got past the tainted ground to locate him, his mind would have been closed to me.

  “Marumanyelloweyes does not like it here,” Maruman beastspoke me.

  I looked down at him. “I should have thought this moonless night would please you.”

  “There is evil in the whiteface, ElspethInnle, but there are other evils, too, that fear the whiteface and hunt only when its face is covered.”

  His words made my skin rise up into gooseflesh, and though I suspected he just wanted me back inside the cave so he could curl up on my lap to sleep, I followed him back along the passage.

  “Swallow told us of the clues left by his people, but how did you find out about them?” Analivia asked the moment I sat down. “Was it the voice in a dream?”

  Ahmedri handed me a mug of steaming liquid, saying drily that it would ease my throat. I accepted it gratefully and said, “I do not think the wolves will come tonight, and so perhaps this is a good time for storytelling—in particular, a tale that all of you may find hard to accept.

  “I will begin it by telling you that the dream voice that summoned you and guided me was that of a futuretelling Agyllian bird named Atthis. She was the leader of her flock—the Elder—and her mind held the memories of all other Elders before her, right back to the Beforetime, when they were called flamebirds. Flamebirds were much smaller than the Agyllians are today, though they had the same distinctive plumage and some similar rare abilities. It was because of these that the Beforetimers caught them so that they could be tested and experimented upon to see if their abilities could be used as weapons. I do not know how the teknoguilders learned of them in the first place. I suspect that one of them made the mistake of farseeking or empathizing or beastspeaking to a human; then the Beforetime teknoguilders altered them to enhance their abilities. Whatever the teknoguilders did strengthened the birds’ Talents, but it also produced deadly illnesses and most of them died.”

  “But not all?” Dameon murmured.

  “All but three, and two were dying when the third beastspoke Cassandra, for she was living in the same place as the birds and some Misfits who were secretly being held captive.”

  “You mean the Govamen place where they were working on Sentinel?” Analivia asked.

  I nodded. “It was the last healthy bird that told Cassandra about the captive Misfits, and it was the bird that sent her in search of Hannah.”

  “The bird sought to help them even though they were humans,” Dameon marveled. “What happened to it?”

  “After the Great White, the bird escaped or was freed and joined wild flamebirds. From these birds came the Agyllians, who were bigger and grew bigger still, and some of them possessed the enhanced Talents of that first Agyllian. As an Elder, Atthis held in her mind all of the knowledge and wisdom of that first bird that beastspoke Cassandra, and of all the Elders since. She has been my guide since she saved my life, and before, though I did not know it.”

  “She saved your life?” Dameon asked.

  I told them of being near death after being caught in the firestorm that had razed the secret encampment of the renegade Herder Henry Druid and how the Agyllian fliers had come to carry me up to the ken, where they had healed me and told me what I was and what I was to do. “I understood from her that after I had all the things I needed for my quest that could be got in the Land, I should come to the mountains and she would summon help for me.”

  “Us,” Analivia breathed. “That means she must have futuretold us going with you.”

  I hesitated, thinking this was the moment to reveal that Atthis was dead, but Dameon asked, “Was it she who bade you keep your quest secret from us, from Rushton?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “But why? We might have helped you find the things Cassandra left.”

  “Atthis knew that there are humans who want power at any cost,” I said slowly. “That is as true now as it was in the Beforetime, sadly. People seem unable to understand that you cannot keep power or peace with weapons or that any weapon they have might be turned on them, and if used, might destroy them, as well as their enemies. What is Sentinel, after all, but a weapon, no matter what it was created for?”

  “You mean she feared that someone else would learn of its existence and begin searching for it?” Analivia asked.

  “Not just someone,” I said, “one specific person. Atthis had foreseen that there would be another born with the potential to wake Sentinel and this person could unleash its full and dreadful potential for destruction. That one, the Agyllians named Destroyer, even as they named me Seeker.”

  I told them all I knew of the Destroyer.

  “Ariel,” Dameon said bleakly.

  “It makes no sense,” Swallow protested. “How could your failure be connected to Ariel’s success? Surely his goal should have been to find and take control of Sentinel before you.”

  “Or to find you and kill you so that you could not get in his way,” Analivia said, and for a moment, disconcertingly, I saw a flash of her father’s ferocity.

  “Did he know about you?” Ahmedri asked, surprising me, because he seldom spoke when we discussed my quest. But he had more than earned his place in our conversation.

  “I don’t know how or how much he knows,” I said. “Back when we were at Obernewtyn together, I think he knew as little as I did. But he learned about Sentinel a
nd the Balance of Terror arsenal and he began to want them. He probably thought, as I did, that they were the same thing or that they were in the same place and he believed that I would be able to locate it. Later, he learned that knowing where Sentinel was meant nothing if he did not know how to get to it and make it work. Somehow, he discovered that I and I alone had the potential to gather what would be needed. I think it enraged him, for although he had powerful allies, he had no choice but to sit back and wait until I learned the things I needed to know. It has made him hate me and those about me, and since he cannot afford to hurt me, he has struck out more than once over the years at my friends and those I love, to make me suffer.”

  “Rushton …,” Dameon murmured.

  I went on swiftly, not wanting to speak of what Ariel had done to Rushton. “More than once he came to my dreams to tell me that, much as he desired it, he could not kill me because he needed me. I think he spirit-traveled unconsciously in those days, moved by rage and impotence. He was not truly aware of dreamtraveling or of communicating with me. That came later.”

  “And what do you have that he needs?” Dameon asked softly.

  “Swallow told you of the messages Cassandra left for me?” I asked, and they nodded. “All of those concern phrases or things that I will need to get to Sentinel. But Ariel did not have a Cassandra to help him, so he needs me—or more correctly, he needs the knowledge that I will have. I think Ariel is the main reason Atthis made me keep my quest secret, to ensure that he never learned about her or Cassandra and to make it impossible for him to find out what they had left for me. I think she only told all of you about me because the time for secrecy is over. The next time I see Ariel, if ever I do again, it will be when I come to face Sentinel.”

  “Still, why not make getting his hands on you his primary purpose?” Swallow asked. “Why go to the Red Land, which may not even be where Sentinel is?”

  “The fact that he has gone there is the one thing that makes me cling to the idea that it is there,” I said. “For why would Ariel go there unless he is very sure that Sentinel is there or in some other land beyond the Red Land?”

  “Why?” Analivia asked suddenly. “Why on earth would he want to use Sentinel and turn the world into a wasteland such as I saw in my nightmare? He must truly be mad.”

  “He is mad, and he has a defective hunger for causing pain, but no doubt he imagines, even as the Beforetimers who created Sentinel did, that he can control it, or even that he need only ever threaten to use it to gain power.”

  “Truly he deserves the name of Destroyer,” Swallow said grimly.

  I nodded. “When I spoke of meeting Straaka in the realm above the spirit trails, I did not tell you that Ariel found me and attacked me there in spirit-form. I have told you that injuries taken on the dreamtrails can cause injury to waking flesh. They can also kill. If Straaka had not acted quickly, Ariel would have killed me.” Again I balked at speaking of the part that the merged spirit-form of Rasial and Gavyn had played, because I did not know if the dog wished the nature of his relationship with the boy to be known.

  “You said before that he knew he could not kill you because he needs you,” Analivia objected.

  “He knows it with his conscious waking mind, but I do not think the spirit-form that attacked me was capable of rational thought, nor any thought at all,” I said. “When Ariel was in the Land, he came to my dreams as the beautiful, cruel boy he was when first we met at Obernewtyn. That was because he was entering my dream unconsciously and he took the form that I remembered. No consciously created spirit-form exactly resembles its fleshly form unless the spirit is severed from that flesh, as with Straaka. But an unconsciously created spirit-form is most often vague and indistinct in shape. These days when Ariel comes to me, it is as a cloud of devouring darkness. I cannot feel his mind or purposes at all, nor does he speak. I only feel a killing rage that is utterly centered on me.”

  Analivia said, “Mayhap he cannot control his rage in spirit-form as easily as in flesh.”

  “That is what I feel,” I told her. “The irony is that he likely has no idea he can reach me or attack me. If he remembers anything when he wakes, it will seem to him a dream.”

  “But how can a spirit-form travel so far?” Swallow asked.

  “The movements of a spirit-form are not those of flesh,” I said. “Distance is no barrier to a spirit, nor is the great sea, though those things affect Talents. Not so spirit-forms, but it is almost impossible for a spirit-form to go where it has not ever been, unless there is another spirit to whom it is linked.”

  “Are you saying you are linked to Ariel?” Dameon asked, sounding appalled.

  “It seems so, for Maryon told me that one spirit can be as strongly linked to another by hatred as by love or friendship,” I said somewhat bleakly.

  “You did not answer the question Analivia asked before about how you came to learn of the clues left for you by the woman Cassandra,” Ahmedri asked curiously, using a stick to prod the fire to life. “Was it the bird Atthis who told you of them?”

  I drank another mug of water, glad that the tribesman had changed the subject; then I told them about the doors to Obernewtyn and how I had been tortured by Alexi, Madam Vega, and Ariel until I had experienced a past-dream that had shown me not only that directions to Sentinel were hidden in the doors, but also the very chasm where Sentinel stood. The others gawked at that but I went on quickly, leaving them no time to interrupt with questions. “The doors also contained a list of clues that would lead me to the things Cassy had left for me.”

  On impulse, I bade Swallow bring my pack and dug out the crumpled parchment on which Fian had scribed his translation of the Gadfian words from the doors. They pored over it and asked questions until they knew all that I knew of the clues. Only, I did not speak of what I had seen and learned in the Earthtemple, for that would require another long tale, and it would mean telling them what I knew of Cassandra’s life after she had been taken by slavers from the Land and about the stone sword. That could wait for another campfire, for even with Ahmedri’s tisane, my throat was sore again.

  They were still discussing the clues when Rasial rose and came to me, Gavyn trailing after her, yawning widely. “The wolves are come, ElspethInnle. They await you/us outside.”

  That startled me, but I began to pull on my boots.

  “They have come too late,” Swallow protested. “It will be sunrise ere we have gone very far at all. Surely it would be better for them to sleep the day here where they can take shelter from the sunlight and where the ground and the water are clean.”

  “The pack leader says the sun will not rise this day,” Rasial said. “He said you must hurry.”

  In a short while, we had the horses packed up and Dragon’s travois fastened in place. Outside, the moon had slipped its veil enough that the wolves cast moon shadows, but when I looked to the east, where the sky ought to have been growing lighter beyond the mouth of the canyon, I saw a great tide of black thunderclouds rising like a wall across the horizon, and the breeze of the early hours had become something more forceful.

  “A storm,” Swallow said flatly. “Surely the wolves do not want to set off in this?”

  “I will talk to the pack leader,” I said. I went to Rheagor, who offered me a cool greeting, so I took advantage of the contact he had established to say, “We expected you at dusk yesterday.”

  “This one/this pack did come twice to tha and still tha was not ready,” the wolf countered frostily. But then he seemed to reconsider and said, “The rhenlings did attack the Brildane thisnight. Two of the pack did die.”

  I stared at him in dismay. “I am sorry for the deaths, pack leader, but what is a rhenling?”

  “They do be small vicious beasts with sharp teeth and long claws. They do fly and eat meat, and they do hunt at night but only in deepest darkness.”

  A coughing bark made the pack leader look around and I saw that it was Descantra. She was alongside Sendari, sniffing at Dra
gon, who was lightly bound to the travois. “That one does have a new companion,” I heard her say, because of my link to Rheagor.

  “She travels with us now,” I told him.

  The pack leader padded over to sniff at Dragon’s supine body, and then he sent, “That one do be injured. Better tha snap her neck, lest she do slow us in the graag.”

  Chilled by his ruthless pragmatism, I said firmly, “I need her for my quest even as I need the Brildane.”

  “Come tha, then,” he said gruffly.

  “There is fresh water and clean ground here,” I said. “Maybe your pack would like to drink and rest before we travel into the Blacklands.”

  “They did drink already and this do be no time for resting,” he sent shortly. “It do be time for running, for we must reach the graag ere the sun does rise on the morrow. The Brildane will lead tha where the ground poisons do be weak.”

  He broke contact and turned to pad away down the canyon, and I watched with a muttered curse as the other wolves flowed after him. I wondered why my wits deserted me every time I had the chance to speak to Rheagor. Why hadn’t I asked about water, and why had we to reach the graag by sunrise? Was it because the wolves needed to be out of the sun or some other reason, and where would they take shelter on an open plain, anyway? And how could Rheagor be so certain the day would be cast over?

  I sighed.

  “What did he tell you?” Swallow asked.

  “Very little save that the wolves are late because they were attacked by some winged creature called a rhenling that travels and hunts at night and eats flesh. It must have been very quick and ferocious, for two of the pack died.” A chill shivered through me at the realization that there might be more of the creatures lurking about, but surely the wolf would not lead us onto the plain if that were a possibility. Especially when it was so dark a day. No doubt the rhenlings laired in the mountains and would not venture onto the poisoned plain beyond.

  “Maybe it was one of these rhenlings that took Moss’s body,” Swallow said, lowering his voice and glancing around to make sure Analivia was not near. “More than one, if they travel in pairs or family groups. If they flew off with him, it would explain the lack of tracks. Did he say anything of the journey ahead?”