Reign the Earth

by A. C. Gaughen

  “That doesn’t make him right,” I told him.

  “No,” he agreed. “It doesn’t. But it does make it complicated. If he had been overthrown, we would have been killed. All of us. People nearly succeeded several times, but Calix—he held strong. He learned to be inflexible.”

  “And where did he learn to hate?” I demanded, glaring at him. “Because you don’t hate the way he does. Danae doesn’t. How can you defend him?”

  “He’s my brother,” Galen said, bristling. “Sometimes he’s been a bad king in order to protect his siblings, and sometimes he’s been a great king and sacrificed our needs for the many. I don’t envy him any of the choices he has had to make.” Galen’s jaw worked. “How can you even ask me such a question? You would never condemn your brother, and I would never ask you to.”

  I thought of Rian, taking lives when I hadn’t thought he was capable of it. That, at least, I did understand. But I couldn’t will myself to bring Rian into this argument, so I stayed silent.

  “He does what he believes is right,” he continued, issuing a heavy sigh. “I saw what Calix did with you in the mills. And the quaesitori—they developed an irrigation system to get water to crops in droughts,” he said. “That arguably changed the nation. And they developed an incendiary powder from a yellow mineral found in the mountains and sugar, of all things, and that’s been able to save hundreds of men from breaking their backs in the mines.”

  “Incendiary powder?” I asked. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “It can catch fire,” he said. “But instead of burning like oil, it bursts—particularly when it’s contained rather than out in the open.”

  “And that saves lives?” I asked.

  “Mining is hard work. If we can save a single hour of manual labor, it’s a great gift.” His shoulders lifted. “But I also see the danger in that substance. Calix wants to fit it onto ships to allow us to disable our enemies without engaging them on the water.”

  “But that prison,” I said, shuddering. “I cannot reconcile what they’re doing there.”

  “What prison?” he asked, his sharp face creasing with displeasure.

  “You didn’t know?” I asked, shaking my head. “The Summer Palace is home to Elementae who are being used for his inquest.” I thought of the bruises and all the blood, and I couldn’t form any more words.

  His gaze shot out over the enclosures, fixing on the palace in the hills like he could see right through the walls. “I will look into that.”

  I shook my head. “How is that different from this?” I asked, sweeping my hand out. “They are slaves for a different service.”

  His eyes met mine. “It is,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure what his promise to “look into that” would yield, but it did ease my mind a little. “Thank you,” I said softly.

  “What will you do?” he asked.

  “Do?” I repeated bitterly. “What do you do?”

  “I make his reign secure,” he told me. “I make it so that he doesn’t have to make such terrible choices anymore.”

  “And you lessen the impact when he does,” I said. “Like with those men guarding the gold.”

  A muscle flared in his jaw, but he nodded, looking away from me.

  I sighed. “Maybe I can’t fix him, or change him. But I can change the world that our children inherit. My children won’t learn to hate. They will learn to rule with grace and wisdom, and they will change this country when they do.”

  “That’s a beautiful vision,” he said, his voice rough and soft. “I will defend them with my life.” He swallowed, the action moving his throat. “You must be hungry,” he said. “I’ll call for some food to be sent up.”

  With a sigh, I nodded. He turned away from me. Curious, I followed the pathway to the edge, chasing the pink splash of light that heralded the sunset. Finding that the balcony actually turned the corner, I rounded it. There was another door to another room, and this part faced the water, the glorious sun just starting to make the sky glow above the horizon.

  The water looked peaceful and distant, but the view was marred by the deep scars in the earth for the shipbuilding dry docks. From the Oculus I could see there were gates that barely restrained the ocean tide; I could only imagine the fury of the ocean as those gates were lifted.

  It made me think of Kata and her gifts and, inescapably, about my own.

  I heard a shrieking call and turned to see Osmost, flapping his wings to slow down and land on the railing beside me. “What are you doing here?” I murmured, smiling at the bird. He sidled closer to me, and I petted his head slowly. We were used to each other, but Osmost had always made it very clear that he was still a wild animal, and I had the scars to prove that.

  Watch the skies, Kairos had told me. I shook my head with a smile—he had sent his hawk to watch after me when he couldn’t. And this Oculus closely resembled a human bird’s nest, so Osmost was fairly delighted.

  I dug my fingers into his feathers, scratching the base of his wings, and he raised them a little, making a fond clicking noise at me. I could see the town that Galen mentioned—the only place around the wide harbor with structures that weren’t made of stone, sweet little buildings that looked like they had been there forever. Off one of the docks, it looked like people—maybe even children—were running down, jumping high, and splashing into the water.

  I sighed, leaning on the railing. It was nice to know there was a little happiness in this bleak city.

  Osmost’s head cocked, and his wings fluffed once before he leaped back from the balcony, diving low and out of sight. Galen rounded the corner a moment later, not coming close to me. “You should eat,” he said. “My men brought some food for you.”

  “What about Calix?” I asked, turning to him.

  “He never has a good sense of time when he’s with the quaesitori,” he said. “He may be a while. But I’ve had the men clear the barracks—you can sleep here.”

  This made me feel foolish for having demanded a different location than the Summer Palace, though I know he didn’t mean it that way. “I’m sorry to displace your men,” I said.

  “You are their queen,” he said, his face nearly hinting at a smile. “They’d jump off the balcony for you, so this is a small request.”

  “Still,” I said, and walked toward him, going into the room, where a tray of food sat on a table covered with maps.

  Theron stopped when we entered the room, a chicken leg sticking out of his mouth. He hurriedly pulled the bone out and dropped it onto a plate as Galen snorted. “Has the queen stopped feeding you?” Galen asked.

  I smiled at him as I sat, and he looked to Galen. “No,” Theron said, “but the king was quite fixed in his attention, and I don’t believe the queen has eaten all day. Which also, incidentally, means I haven’t eaten all day.”

  “Then we shall remedy that,” Galen said, also pulling a chair over as Theron sat back in his own, going to work again on the poor chicken. I took a piece of chicken, though I attempted to eat it slightly more delicately than Theron. There were also bread and fruits and cheeses, and Galen poured us wine.

  “Are we leaving tonight?” Theron asked Galen.

  “No, I believe the king wants to go in the morning,” Galen replied. “I’ve sent word to Zeph and the rest of the Saepia. They should be here by then to properly escort the queen.”

  Theron nodded.

  I leaned back, looking to Theron with a smile. “Speaking of Zeph,” I said. “Why don’t you have one of those giant sword things?”

  Theron huffed. “It is not a giant sword. It’s a khopesh, and frankly, I’m hurt, my queen. I thought you, in your infinite wisdom, would have seen the limitations of such an unwieldy weapon. Knives, however, are suitable for any occasion.”

  He gestured to his knife-lined breastplate, where at least twenty thin, deadly stilettos gleamed back at me. I laughed. “I think the point of such a weapon is that it frightens enough people that it’s rarely used,�
� I returned. “And I like it because it resembles a scimitar.”

  “Ah,” Galen cut in. “But the curve is for an entirely different purpose. Did you notice the notch behind the curve?”

  I shook my head, and he gestured with his fingers, showing a little hook right before the long blade curved outward.

  “Here,” he said. “It’s meant to snare people and swords so he can slice through them with it.”

  “No,” Theron interjected, pointing a finger at Galen. “It ends up just trapping people so he has to use something else. And the big oaf isn’t fast enough for that.”

  I laughed. “I’m sure you could learn to use it too.”

  “It’s too heavy for him,” Galen said with a smile.

  Theron tossed down his piece of bread. “Three hells. It’s an inferior weapon; when will people understand that?”

  I ate a piece of cheese, laughing happily to glimpse the boys inside the tough warrior men.

  Before long, it was dark and Calix still hadn’t returned. Galen left us to go check in on him, and I felt tired enough that I went to the empty barracks room in the tower. There was another door out to the balcony there, and I curled up under two blankets, staring at the moon, which looked like she was waiting just outside for me.

  Sailing in the Dark Sky

  There was blood in my dreams.

  That was the only thing I was aware of as I woke with a scream, the world bursting and shattering around me.

  “Get down!” Theron yelled, pulling me off the bed and throwing a blanket over my body on the stone floor. A moment later he was beside me, his arm covering my head.

  Glass and rough debris pressed against my body, and my panicked breath was unnaturally loud in the space created by Theron’s arm. “What’s happening?” I cried.

  There was a horrible noise above us, and a jerking, tearing motion rocked the floor. I screamed, curling tighter against the rubble.

  “There’s a thrice-damned ship flying through the air!” Theron yelled.

  Something gave way, and another shower of stone, wood, and glass hit us. Something struck my leg, and I cried out, but the sound was swallowed by a low keening groan as the bunks started to tip over.

  Theron was so much faster than I was. By the time I saw the beds moving, he had already grabbed me, shoving me out into the middle of the room. Jagged fragments scratched at my skin, but Theron crawled out right before all the beds tipped and collapsed.

  “Where’s Calix?” I wailed.

  “Not back,” he said. He looked at the door, totally blocked by beds, and then raised his eyes.

  I saw where the noises were coming from. A ship’s anchor tore its way through the roof, wrenching the whole tower with it.

  Theron hauled me to my feet, pushing me forward. “We need to get outside!” he roared. The glass and rubble cut into my feet as we ran for the balcony.

  We halted when a series of loud, booming cracks sounded out.

  “Down!” Theron yelled, pushing me to the ground inside the balcony doorway. I huddled against the wood, and he braced us both in the frame.

  The tower lurched and rocked as one final, shuddering boom rang, and I looked up to see nothing but sky. Several long heartbeats later, I heard screams and a loud crash as the roof must have fallen to the ground below.

  Soldiers ran out to the balcony, lighting arrows on fire and shooting them. I followed one to see what Theron had meant—there, barely visible, was a ship, sailing in the dark sky. There were still beads of water dripping from the hull, and the black sails were indistinguishable from the night around us. It was moving fast, coming back toward the tower.

  One of the flaming arrows struck the sail, and I could see with alarming clarity as the big anchor came back around, swinging on a long rope to strike underneath the lip of the wide square that formed the top of the Oculus.

  The top of the tower rocked hard to the side, and Theron grabbed me, slamming us against the wall as the square lifted up fast. A soldier beside us lost his footing, and he cried out. As the floor rose, he seemed to move in slow motion, his arms wheeling backward. “Here!” I yelled, holding my hand out from the protection of Theron’s body.

  The soldier met my eyes, but my hand was nowhere near close enough.

  And then gravity took him, and he rushed down the balcony floor. I saw him hit the rail and flip off the edge into the night, and I couldn’t breathe.

  The tower gave a rumbling protest as the stone beneath us tipped more. A loud groaning noise vibrated through our feet as the floor jerked and slid, and I could see the rope attached to the flying ship drawn taut.

  Theron untied a belt from his waist and wrapped the thick piece of leather around us both, tying it tight. “The top of the tower is about to fall,” he told me, meeting my eyes. “We have to get off the tower.”

  “What?” I screamed, whipping my head around. The stairs were blocked, the whole floor was tilted up—if we moved off this wall, there was nowhere to go but open air.

  “I need you to follow my orders without questioning them, my queen,” he told me. “Can you do that?”

  The floor shuddered and wrenched, and I nodded frantically.

  “Grab the breastplate as tight as you can. Do not let go of me,” he roared. I wrapped my fists around his breastplate, careful to avoid the pointy ends of the knives.

  He turned and leaped onto the balcony rail, wind whipping hard around us and almost knocking him off. The white stone enclosures below us were faint and small and dim in the darkness, and I shook my head wildly.

  “No,” I cried. “No, no—”

  But he jumped off the edge.

  I couldn’t close my eyes. I couldn’t breathe as fear swamped through my lungs, much less scream or thrash or fight. Everything solid fell away, and we were still rising, rising, a tiny bit, and then the feeling changed.

  We were falling.

  Air rushed around me and we turned, too fast for my eyes to follow.

  Theron somehow managed to catch the rope, and the sharp stop flung us around so hard my fists slipped free from him.

  I flapped backward, but the leather around my waist jerked and held, digging in deep to my skin. Theron’s face swam above me, and behind that, the dark, looming ship that we now seemed to be attached to.

  Theron grunted but gave no other protest, and I grabbed onto him again, my hands shaking, clinging hard. The city looked like a toy below us. My breath was too stuck in my lungs to even manage a scream.

  Our weight on the rope dragged the anchor free from the Oculus, but it didn’t swing back in a natural motion. It hovered in the air for a moment, and then started rising upward. I looked to the boat above us, and the fire on the sail went out, dousing the illumination.

  As the anchor drew close to the ship, Theron swung a little and caught the edge of the deck with his hands, letting the rope free as he ordered, “Grab the railing. Quick!”

  I obeyed, wedged between him and the wood.

  “Untie yourself from my waist,” he said.

  “No!”

  “Quickly, or we’ll both fall,” he said.

  Trembling, I broke the knot with clumsy fingers. I could feel his arms shaking with the effort to hold us.

  “Go over the rail,” he said.

  I nodded, scrabbling for purchase with my feet, catching on his knee. He groaned, but I pushed up a little to jump over the rail of the massive, impossibly floating ship. A second later he was up and beside me, his feet hitting the deck and his arms out as he shoved me behind him. “Don’t, she’s the queen!” he cried.

  I gasped. There was a tall boy there, pointing a crossbow at Theron’s chest.

  “You’re not,” he said, and I saw his finger curl over the trigger.

  Osmost shrieked, flying in talons-first to hit the crossbow away as the bolt flew harmlessly over the edge.

  “Damn bird!” the boy yelled, readying another arrow.

  “Bast!” another voice cut in.

  The
boy lowered the bow as a girl climbed the steps to the front deck. I could see other people behind them, but they all looked young—barely older than I was, if even that.

  This girl wore dark clothing, with rings and strange designs in chalky white—salt, I realized. That’s what had been all over the shipbuilders. Her dark hair was coiled like a head of snakes, and it was lighter on top from the sun.

  But nothing shocked me nearly as much as Osmost swooping in, his wings outstretched, to rest on her shoulder.

  “Hello again,” she said to him, and he clicked at her.

  “You—you know my brother?” I asked, coming out from behind Theron.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Your brother is a hawk?” she asked.

  “No. The hawk is Osmost.”

  “Osmost,” she said, looking at him again. He ducked a little, and she scratched his chin. “I only know the bird. But I’m guessing you’re the Tri Queen.” She turned to glare at the boy. “And we don’t kill queens on this ship.”

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “Aspasia!” someone shouted.

  I looked behind her to see a young girl, holding her hands out at her sides and shaking.

  Aspasia took off down the stairs before the young girl even got a chance to say, “I’m losing it.”

  Aspasia nodded, standing in front of the girl and holding her palms up in the same position. “I’m with you.”

  “You’re tired,” the girl cried, sniffling back tears. “I can’t hold this much longer and neither can you.”

  “You’re Elementae,” I breathed, coming down the stairs like their power pulled me closer.

  Aspasia snapped a glare in my direction. “How else do you suggest we fly a ship in the air?”

  A different boy was behind the young girl. “Take deep breaths,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “It’s not much longer. Just hold on.” He looked up at Aspasia.

  The Bast boy came down to the deck as well. “We have to get out to open water. And we can’t take them with us.”

  “We can’t just leave Dara there,” the other boy protested. “You know what they’ll do to her.”