by Scott Rhine
“I’m not sure. It’s one of these three. Someone in the Crooked Isle will know. Over here is the land of the butterflies that drink blood.”
“Excuse me?”
“Near the seam, there is nothing impossible. Remember that, foreign dog.”
Finally, Sarajah intervened. “Treat him with respect, Ooma.”
“I obey you, lady; you come from the plague-lands and survived. What is he?”
“He is my prophet and wrote the text books you’re studying.”
The girl’s eyes got wide. “You have seen the mighty Archanos?”
“Yeah. I spoke to him. In honor of my service, he swore that he’d avenge me if anyone harmed me—I didn’t think I’d need it in his backyard.”
The girl bowed her head.
Pinetto waved his hand. “You don’t need to . . .” The monkey turned its head, and there was no black spot. He rushed down the ladder and ran to the tree. It wasn’t the spirit monkey. “Murali!”
When he found the gamekeeper, the man blushed at the deception. “I’m sorry. I only looked away for an instant, I swear.”
“Damn. We know she named the right island, just not which one.”
“We just hit them all in a row.”
When the girl agreed as if she’d be joining the expedition, Sarajah said, “Someone has to stay behind and make black cloud powder and medicines for the emperor’s war effort.”
Pinetto hastened to support her. “That could also raise the money we’ll need for supplies on our return to Center. We can leave the Mallard and a small crew behind. Once a week, Ooma can make a trip to her father’s workshop and manufacture more alchemical supplies.”
“I don’t have a way to pay a demon,” Ooma complained.
“I’ll tell Bagierog to assist as part of his babysitting duties,” Sarajah said.
Chapter 41 – Feeding the Dragon
The prisoners on the barge from Reneau rowed steadily out to the waters where the Deep began. Coasting to a stop, Humi Kragen Sandarac, Empress of the North, commanded absolute silence. Only two men in the iron cages on deck violated this decree by whimpering and bemoaning their fates. They and seven others in cages were dragon food. Everyone in the capital knew it. People questioning the empress went to the head of the line.
After midnight, Serog slid in for a landing on the large, flat surface. Humi noted that her scales were dull and she stumbled when she crawled toward her high priestess. “Are you well, Mother-goddess?”
“Exhausted. Are these the vilest criminals you could find?”
“Yes, Mother-goddess. Accept our grateful offerings.”
The dragoness sniffed the first woman by Humi. “She doesn’t have a taint.”
“She murdered the overseer at her place of employment, the place we weave fabric for uniforms.”
“She’s bruised . . . all over her body.”
“He may have beaten her for laziness, but as a noble it’s his right. Her actions cost us an entire day of quota.”
“You suspect what else he was doing to his workers. Set her free.” Serog shuffled to the next cage, barely able to lift her claws. Her head wavered. “Inside, this one is blacker than the stones from the City of the Gods, but he enjoyed his crimes. He’s been doing it for years. I will get no nourishment from his kind. Throw him into the waters and let the wild spirits feed on him.”
“Goddess, why didn’t you return last night?”
“The invasion did not go as planned. I tired myself with too much exertion. Flying here . . . wait till I feed to talk.” Serog licked her lips. The whimpering man screamed. “This is the one.”
“He ate one of his fellow soldiers—”
“Open the cage, and I will taste for myself.”
Humi unlocked the cage, and the man grabbed her hand, pleading. She prodded him with a wand that had a glass tip. He sank to his knees, screaming.
The dragoness clamped her teeth gingerly over the man’s head. Steam rose from the man’s naked body, and he screamed. Serog inhaled the fumes. Invigorated, the dragon increased her efforts. Colored thread unraveled from his arms, and the criminal disappeared into her, inches at a time. When all that was left was a husk, she spit him out. Her sides shimmered with new vitality. She smelled the other wailer and chose him next. This one, she held down with a claw as the center of his chest melted into a puddle, and she drank from him like a trough.
“Do they have to be conflicted about their deeds?” asked Humi.
“This generates the most power. Anything that would make them toss in their sleep grants me dream energy.”
“Why do you hide in daylight?”
The dragon cast a suspicious eye toward Humi. “My body is made of nightmare, which eventually melts away by the light of the mortal sun.”
The empress of the north quickly changed subjects. “Are you still hungry, Mother-goddess?”
“Maybe one more,” the dragon said after considering. She sounded like a woman trying to resist another sliver of peaches-and-cream pie.
Humi casually held the key aside as she asked, “What went wrong with the invasion?”
“Pagaose is too strong magically. He used a miracle from the Traveler to create a shield around the harbor of Center. It somehow repels the wards on the warships. Our only hope is that he only has one miracle left.”
“We can still land elsewhere.”
“Not on Center. None of the other bays are deep enough for the warships to enter, so they have to employ longboats. Only one longboat from each warship can load at a time. They’re not truly amphibious. Five longboats with eight people each aren’t a credible threat. Pagaose has been importing and arming archers all week. The natives were ready for us, awake with fires burning. Vinspar called off the assault because of the horrendous losses. Pagaose’s disciples are warding every beach to repel the longboats as well. We’re at a stalemate for now. While Sandarac lays siege with three ships, the other two seize the remaining Inner Islands, sailing in an outward spiral. He asks you to send more longboats.”
“My beloved lives.”
“He’s an idiot. Pagaose was willing to restore his manhood and make your family rulers over half the world while he doubles the size of his empire.”
“You take his side against us?”
“No, daughter. I tell you that what Pagaose says, he will do, unless something kills him first. Your man is a weak charlatan by comparison.”
Humi set her jaw but said nothing to contradict the dragon. “Why not let warship wards expire or purposely erase them?”
“The waters are teeming with mindless feeders who sense the upcoming slaughter. Even if I could hold those off, every night the natives send waves of ghosts against us.”
“Fight back with our necromancers.”
The dragon hissed at the tone. “They’re the College of Wizards, child. If the emperor’s new toy hadn’t blown him apart with a lightning bolt, Lord Burningsand alone could have held your bumblers off behind Pagaose’s umbrella shield.”
“Could Lord Kragen’s Roseate Lens create a hole in the shield, the way he planned to do in the garden of the Spirit Temple?”
“Perhaps. The defenses are weakest on Shade Side. I found a weak ward there that I might be able to overwhelm with windblown sand. That would be the best place to experiment. Also, the new lighthouse extends beyond the protections. I have told Sandarac all this, but he feels that the residents of Center can be starved into submission.”
“What do you recommend?”
“This is now the war of a thousand stinging insects. Pagaose will make you pay for every misstep; such is the way of water. Prepare for a long siege, but do not expect to win. Already he places a bounty on the fire mages’ heads and offers amnesty to all Imperials.”
“How can we win?”
Serog sighed. “Pagaose must make a mistake. Goad him into using his final miracle and strike him from all sides while he is vulnerable. You might have a chance.”
“You won’t
help?”
“I do all I can legally. Pagaose has committed no crimes. He is the legitimate emperor, and I can’t lift a finger against him directly without penalty.”
“Wouldn’t the penalty be worth it?” asked Humi.
“No. Pagaose has sworn not to harm me. He has already offered to take you as wife once Sandarac is slain. That would put your child on the throne just as well,” the dragon said, ripping the wooden top off the next cage. She turned the victim’s head to face her. Captivated by her terrible beauty, he couldn’t scream. The dragoness transformed his life-force into rainbow-colored vapors in record time. “Ah. Your offering has been accepted.”
Serog launched into the night, leaving the empress to fume. She would find a way to make the dragon obey her.
Chapter 42 – The Beard
Komiko approached the small prison tower at the edge of the observatory complex. The white stone tower perched on the edge of the caldera, and the lone window on the third story faced the center of the smoky volcano. Lord Vapordoom had taken custody of the former Lady Evershade as soon as the Elegance docked and would hold her until her trial. The guard recognized the visiting witch by her height and glasses before he examined her papers. “You’re the emperor’s number-one consort. Is he interceding?”
“No,” said Komiko. “I come on my own. Corrie was our dance chaperone, and she was like a mother to me. I petitioned Lord Pangborn, and he said I was permitted visits.”
The guard searched her for weapons but found only a picnic basket of bread, wine, and roast fowl. He took the wine for his own lunch and opened the iron-bound door for her. “Half an hour, no more.”
The tower had one room per level and wooden stairs that spiraled upward. The rooms smelled of rotten eggs and bitter almonds. Komiko found Corrie gazing out on the ruin. “I brought you lunch.”
“If you love me, bring me some of the lotus honey Violet kept in her cupboards. I know how she felt, her dynasty gone but forced to live on as the example.”
Komiko whispered, “The Pleasure Dome has been plowed under except for the two pools closest to the harem. The rest has been converted into garden. Even his majesty’s hammock has been moved to his room.”
“Only Niftkin has been to see me this last week. He is a good son-in-law.” Corrie brightened for a moment. “Have you come to tell me I’m a grandmother?”
“No, but not for lack of trying.”
“Niftkin loves Nightglow enough to risk death, and he treated her like a noblewoman even when she had no title. I have no complaints. He’ll make sure I have plenty of beautiful grandbabies, and he’ll be the type to stick around to help them if they’re ever sick.”
Komiko bowed her head. “Niftkin went back to his majesty at the wreck in the harbor to plead your case. His highness was angry at his impatience with your daughter, and said, ‘I swore I would draw the sword and punish you.’”
Corrie put her hand to her mouth. “My Pagaose would never kill his most loyal servant.”
“No. The emperor made Niftkin guardian of the One True Sword. Now he has to sit in the middle of the harbor while Pagaose sits in the palace and tries to fight both council and enemy alike. The sword can’t leave the wreck or the shield is broken.”
“His highness is fair. Niftkin and Nightglow will learn patience.”
“Maybe. When that snake Majah hinted you were physical with the emperor, Niftkin immediately drew up documents attesting to your virtue. Everyone on the staff, including Anna and the other dancers, has signed the affidavit swearing you were never alone with Pagaose, and never said or did anything improper in his presence.”
Corrie had the decency to blush.
Komiko said, “It’s cost him, though. People cast doubt on his first-circle status, calling your new son Lord of the Harbor or Marquis of the Sinking Island.”
“Write down the names of the mockers, and I will get foxtails from them.”
Komiko smiled. “I wish you were my mom. You care for your loved ones and may the lava take the rest. Pagaose wanted to help you, but he’s not allowed to interfere with the courts in any way.”
Corrie allowed herself a single tear before clamping down on the pain again. “He has no further use for me. He has two healthy concubines and more who are willing.”
“No! Don’t say that. He hasn’t touched either of us. Pagaose’s so gloomy that the Council had Ember and I move into his bedroom. Even though that bed is seven feet wide, he sleeps in the hammock. Ember and I don’t even do anything until he leaves. I mean, he’s only there four hours a day. He talks to Anna about you constantly. He can’t say a thing around Majah, though, or the information goes straight to the enemy.” Komiko tried to look the other woman in the eye for emphasis. “He loves you so much that he hasn’t eaten since the night you were imprisoned.”
Corrie clasped both hands around her heart. “He still cares?”
“Yes. Now eat something.”
The noblewoman complied slowly, her hands fumbling through the basket.
When Komiko gasped at her impairment, Corrie said, “I told you on the yacht that I looked back to watch Pagaose perform the ceremony; I caught a glimpse of his true form.”
“Your vision hasn’t returned yet?”
“Not fully. I don’t have much cause for reading poetry or doing my accounting anymore. That’s enough of an old woman’s problems; how is the war going?”
“You’re not old. Pagaose concentrates on moving the last shipment from Bablios. Even people who didn’t want to pay their taxes help smuggle us food now that the Intagliosians are terrorizing the islands. Every day the Pretender acts against us, more people support our emperor. Yesterday, the College voted to implement his suggestions about magical defense.”
“Even a dull ox will steer away from a cliff,” Corrie said with a chuckle. She brightened when Komiko removed items from the basket and placed them on her bed: a bird figurine, a white feather, and a piece of gold fabric.
The witch said, “Ember cut this swatch from the chest of his robe, so you know there’s a hole over his heart until you return.”
Corrie wept openly, unable to contain the emotion. “How is Kitten?”
“I’ll smuggle him into your cell on my next visit if you answer one question.”
“Anything for you, my friend.”
“Anna could only give me hints. You hid the will and property well; it took us a week to track them down. I know you always have a good reason for your crimes; what did the apothecary do to deserve murder?”
“You want my confession? Who else knows of this?” Corrie bit her lip.
“Nobody knows, and nobody will. I only guessed because of how well I know you. We bulldogs stick together. Tell me and I can help,” Komiko said, laying her hand on the older woman’s hand.
“I’ll tell you, but do not help yet, I beg.”
“Why not?”
“You swear yourself to be my new kin?”
“I do.”
“Then hear all of what I have to say and do not spread it until the deed benefits Pagaose.”
“I knew you did it for him!” cried the witch snapping her fingers.
“Swear!”
“I swear.”
“The apothecaries took money from a certain noble to brew the purple poison used against the emperor.”
“You’ll be restored! That’s treason. Everything they owned is forfeit to the emperor.”
Corrie raised her hand. “I can’t reveal the plot without stirring an investigation. Pagaose needs the true culprit in order to succeed against the Pretender. As long as I hide the evidence trail, Pangborn will serve the emperor to the best of his abilities.”
“If he betrays the emperor again, you’ll ruin his whole family.”
“At the cost of my life. Neither of us can afford to condemn the other, so my trial is suspended indefinitely. However, if Pangborn stays loyal till the end of the siege, all will be forgiven on both sides. Rensalier will testify that the pro
perty I sold was forfeit to the crown. I used the property to pay for only the emperor’s coronation. For the gown, I used my own funds.”
“You could be free at any time, and you choose prison?”
“I choose to help my Pagaose in the only way I can. I beg you; tell him enough to get him to eat . . . and visit me in dreams.”
****
That night, as Ember and Komiko lay in the oversized bed, they heard the emperor moan in his sleep. At first they giggled. “The wicked vixen returns.” However, when the moans went on for over an hour, Ember said, “He sounds like he’s suffering.”
“Corrie’s eyesight is bad and . . . she might’ve taken some drugs to deaden the pain last week. Her dream skills are probably a little off because of both. Maybe he’s too drained from the shield spell to . . . participate. I’ll ask her tomorrow.”
“How are we going to sleep tonight?”
Komiko sighed. “I guess we are his concubines. I’ll handle it. I offered before, and it’s only fair.” She marched over to his hammock, grasped the problem, and soon after the emperor sighed in relief. In his sated state, he rolled over and put his arm around Komiko’s hip. She looked at her partner, pleading. Ember covered her mouth, lest laughter wake him.
Finally, Komiko could stand no more and whispered to Pagaose, “Sire, come to your bed; we think the guards may be checking the cause for the noises.”
He did so, getting another three hours’ rest before slipping off to exercise. He didn’t wake the ladies when he rose.
Komiko smuggled the fox in with breakfast. The noblewoman cooed over the pet, and it kissed her face, preferring a reunion with her to bacon—high praise.
“Someone was very chipper today,” Komiko noted. “Pagaose ordered a storm-crystal wand for you, just like Pinetto’s. He said you were the best magical assistant ever.”
Corrie’s eyes lowered. “We tried some things he’s never done before in the flesh. I couldn’t communicate with him well enough. I don’t think he trusts me sufficiently. Maybe I’m not stimulating enough for him anymore.”