After he killed Ahmed, Fathi relieved her of her duties as a servant and now she mostly spent her days in Fathi’s quarters or in the gardens, pretending to be practicing magic that she no longer had to hide now that she was under his protection, even though there were now new whispers going around that she was a witch. At least when she was a servant, she could be entertained by the other servants’ follies as she planned her ascension to world domination, but there was only so much planning she could do at this stage. So when it came time for her to get him do things differently than Ahmed had, it wasn’t very hard for her to feign wistfulness and restlessness when he came in the room one day. To be honest, she wasn’t feigning but rarely did she ever let herself whine, pout, and complain about things in favor of getting up and doing something.
He called her name and Tsubame pretended not to hear him until the third time when she blinked and turned to look at him from the window.
“Hm?” she asked.
“Why do you seem sad?” he asked, not looking as concerned as he was amused.
“I was just thinking it would be nice to be able to go outside is all.”
“You can go into the gardens.”
Tsubame shook her head. “Into town. To the market.”
“It’s dangerous out there for you.”
“Isn’t there a way it didn’t have to be? Isn’t there something you could do?”
“Only what we’ve been doing.”
“Seems like it’s taking a very long time,” Tsubame pointed out.
Fathi laughed at her and asked, “And what, Nadiyyah, would you do about it?”
Tsubame hadn’t expected him to directly ask her that question. She thought she would have to be more subtle in her maneuvers, but it seemed that her seemingly matter-of-fact and simplistic responses were amusing him so much that he was curious to know what she thought even though he would undoubtedly think she was just being a silly woman.
“I would talk to the rebels, see what they wanted and if we could work out a truce. Maybe even live together peacefully,” she muttered pretending to be absent as she stared out the window.
Predictably, Fathi laughed and said, “Don’t abuse your pretty little head over things you can’t even understand. It makes you look ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” Tsubame huffed indignantly.
“It is. You’re saying we shouldn’t fight them, that we should surrender.”
“No,” Tsubame said trying to keep the firmness out her tone at the condescending way he was speaking to her even though she wanted him to see her as petty and flighty even in her bravery. “I just think we’ve been fighting for a long time and it hasn’t worked to defeat the rebels yet.”
“It wouldn’t work.”
“Why?” Tsubame asked feigning genuine curiosity.
Fathi sighed, like a parent would at a child when the parent believed something was too complicated for the child to comprehend.
“We’re just different than them.”
“That’s true,” Tsubame agreed. “But I bet if you asked, they’re just as tired of fighting as you are.”
Fathi laughed. “I never get tired of fighting.”
“I didn’t say you had to. I just want to go to the market and by red silk or satin is all. I want to make a dress,” Tsubame said with her arms crossed over the sill.
Fathi laughed at her again, muttering something about wishing he could be as careless and worried about such trivial things as she was. Still, even if he thought she was ridiculous, she had her red satin three days later, which she used to magically fashion a more modest kimono style wrap dress, one that covered her shoulders and wasn’t so tight on her chest, but that would still distinguish her to the young sorceresses and sorcerer who had seen her on her arrival so they would undoubtedly report her to the Magic Council when pictures of them were leaked.
Despite Fathi’s best efforts to keep Ahmed’s death silent, the news broke out undoubtedly by spies that were in the compound and journalists who somehow managed to get pictures of Fathi at meals with what used to be Ahmed’s inner circle and with her sitting inconspicuously amongst them as she sat next to him on a pillow on the floor like she was a favorite pet. Most of the world would probably ignore her presence in the pictures, but Tsubame was only trying to get the attention of three and there was no way they would miss her.
For a while afterwards, Tsubame did nothing, acting the part of the woman of the compound by directing the servants, befriending the mistresses of Fathi’s closest helpers and even some of the soldiers, keeping note of the ones who were probably spies, while watching Fathi follow in the footsteps of his predecessor, undoubtedly worsened by the meddling of the Magic Council who wanted to make sure that they could keep the various rebel factions at war and indirectly rule over them while also gaining access to their resources.
After a few weeks had passed, exactly what Tsubame was waiting for happened. There was another bombing on the outskirts of Fahti’s territory and in the confusion, the rebels tried to storm the city. They failed miserably and Fathi was ruthless in his retaliation, but his victory was not without losses. He lost a third of his army, used up much of his weapons and infantry, and while he was able to once again secure the perimeter of their borders, he risked a rebellion in his own territory from the civilians he failed to protect. Tsubame doubted Fathi cared about civilian losses, but what she was certain he cared about was risking a rebellion in his own territory and potentially losing the power and superiority he had just gained. To everyone’s surprise except Tsubame’s, Fathi decided to call a temporary ceasefire and meet with at least two of the rebel factions on neutral grounds.
It amused her that humans thought their minds were their own, when everything they did, everything they said, everything they thought was controlled and manipulated by someone else’s whims, by people planting ideas in their brains in passing through things that they didn’t give a second thought to: hand motions, images, sound, words. And then those ideas would fester and grow in the subconscious mind like a seed in the dirt until it sprouted and gave way to conscious thought and action in what humans like to call maturity, changes of heart, growth, whatever they wanted to call it. Rarely was anyone’s idea their own. So while Tsubame had known Fathi would think she was being a ridiculous woman by suggesting they stop fighting and try diplomacy and negotiations, knew he would instantly forget about it and in turn forget that she ever said anything about it, she knew that the right circumstances like the potential decimations of his army and his power would give rise to the idea in his head like it was his own idea. She tried not to roll her eyes as she watched Fathi champion for something that only a few weeks ago he was against, saying that they would only constantly be at war if all they did was continue to retaliate against each other, especially since it had been so long that everyone had forgotten who started fighting first.
“I thought you liked war and fighting?” Tsubame asked him one day.
“I do, when it’s necessary. Believe me Nadiyyah, I’m still fighting. Just in another way.”
It was something the international media would never put on television, something they would never let the masses know was happening because it didn’t fit the narrative they were feeding that these fighting factions were dangerous terrorists that needed to be stopped overseas before they gathered enough technology and weaponry and bombs to fly overseas and bomb their cities, take their way of living from them, and especially their precious democracy or whatever semblance of it a country had. Savages that needed to be controlled and eventually slaughtered. Instead, Tsubame knew once they saw that the different factions were trying to negotiate peace, they would take a bombing that happened weeks ago and put on TV screens across the world, make it seem like recent news, maybe even stage a terrorist attack or two and force Fathi to retaliate. Then the media would claim that it was only a false peace and that the only reason Fathi managed to garner peace was that he was a tyrant that needed to be st
opped before he expanded his territory, a propaganda tactic Tsubame had been victim of on her rise to becoming queen the first time around; all because unfortunately, lies and ignorance tended to speak much louder than truth and intelligence.
The negotiations were on neutral ground outside the city and though Fathi had allowed Tsubame to accompany him in order to help quell her restlessness, she wasn’t allowed in the large tent where negotiations for peace would undoubtedly be taking place for weeks. Instead, Tsubame decided to take advantage of her freedom by greeting other women who had accompanied the other factions, many of them little more than sex slaves, some servants, some wives. They had little more to do than to gossip and talk about what they thought would be the outcome of these diplomatic talks. Most of them, particularly a refugee woman named Hajar, were simply looking forward to the fighting being over and being able to settle down and live out the rest of their lives in peace. Tsubame resisted the urge to scoff and tune up her nose at them.
Their expectations marked how different they were from Tsubame. All of them would be content with being able to settle down, maybe get married, have children, or maybe even just living out the rest of their days helping feed less fortunate people in a soup house every day without having to worry about being caught in the middle of a battle or a gun fight or bombs falling. The little things satisfied them. Tsubame on the other hand was not content with the little things. She would never be content being the mistress or even the wife of a powerful leader. She would be one of those making the rules, for now indirectly and later directly. Therefore none of them would be any help to her, she could manipulate none of them to playing the other side of the conflict for her if the peace talks weren’t successful.
Predictably they weren’t.
The first week was peaceful and during that time, Tsubame carefully observed everyone from youngest child to oldest adult to see who might have been planted there by the Magic Council in particular as spies or potential trouble makers. There were many, all close to their respective leaders in some respect or another whether it be a mistress, wife, second, or protégée, slinking around them like snakes in their free time, waiting to bite with the right word. With that many people, there was bound to be sabotage sooner or later. Relationships being tense as they were, it didn’t take much for there to be all out chaos and fighting. All it took was acid in the mattress of one of the delegates for all hell to break loose.
Despite her arguments that she was perfectly able to take care of herself, Fathi had her sent back to the compound where Tsubame waited for two weeks for news of the outcome while openly practicing more powerful types of magic and cultivating the garden. After the first week of waiting, Tsubame heard that Fathi had called his army into the city, but it was the other servants who confirmed her suspicion. With most of the soldiers on the field, there was little for the women in the compound to do besides gather in their favorite gathering place, the kitchen, and gossip. Tsubame made her way to stand next to Saha, who looked at Tsubame with a longsuffering look as she shook her head at the antics of the women around her.
“A massacre,” one of the younger women who wasn’t even out of her teenage years said.
“How do you know this?” Saha asked.
“It doesn’t matter. But that’s what people are calling it. That’s what the Americans and Russians and the Europeans are calling it. Talking about how it’s only making the refugee crisis worse.”
“And who told you that?” Saha pressed.
The young girl blushed, and Tsubame assumed it was from one of the young soldiers who had been left behind to protect the compound and couldn’t keep his mouth shut because he was thinking with his lower head instead of the one on his neck.
“You don’t think they’re going to bomb us, do you?”
Saha huffed and began to berate the girl but Tsubame cut her off.
“Did your soldier tell you this too?”
The girl was silent and Tsubame took a deep breath, pretending to get impatient with the girl, before saying, “You didn’t come up with this from your own head otherwise you never would have said it, nor would it have crossed your mind. So tell me. Did your soldier tell you this too?”
Finally the girl nodded.
At that point, Saha told them that they were all being ridiculous and that dinner needed to be prepared. Tsubame had no reason to stay after that, deciding to go back to her garden anxiously anticipating the fallout from the failed peace talks with the rest of the world. Tsubame would have to get the entire story from Fathi when he returned or as much of it as he would give her, but Tsubame could guess what happened. After the assassination all the other leaders had undoubtedly risen up against him, deciding to take the opportunity to get rid of him in his own territory with their own armies. Since Fathi was lacking in the area of diplomacy, undoubtedly he had lost his temper and when the other factions tried to bring the rest of their armies and the people rose up against them, he called forth his army and annihilated them. Undoubtedly international intelligence from the ruling powers had gotten ahold of the news and were now circulating Fathi’s name on a constant cycle spewing that he made a crime against humanity to justify an attack and eventually an invasion or occupation. It was exactly what Tsubame had been betting on and waiting on to happen since she infiltrated the compound months ago in effort to speed up the natural process that would have probably taken another year to get to this moment otherwise.
When Fathi returned a week later, he confirmed her suspicions after she carefully pried the full story from him without seeming overeager and without asking the direct questions that she wanted to ask.
“They’re going to bomb us,” Tsubame said.
“They’re not.”
It hadn’t been a question. Tsubame knew how this game worked, knew that the powers that be always like to interfere with the less powerful and call themselves judges, as though none of them would have killed or attacked a group of rebels who tried to kill them whether those rebels were justified or not in their own countries, as though they would hold back from retaliating when they were attacked or if their livelihood and wellbeing was in danger. Tsubame wasn’t angry about it though. She had gotten over being angry about that a long time ago. Instead she would take advantage of people’s need to meddle and bully and bring about their descent and her inevitable ascension.
Fathi added as an afterthought that he had invited the Magic Council and representatives from the U.N. to talk, but Tsubame knew they would never come. And even if they did, they would never listen. And even if they pretended to listen, it would only be to give Fathi a false sense of security so they could betray him later. A brave warrior he may have been, but Fathi was too gullible, too trusting, too ignorant to handle the forces that would soon be put against him. Eventually, he would outlive his usefulness to her and at that point, very soon, Tsubame would show her hand and the real fun would begin.
For a week or so, Tsubame was aware of the drones circling the city, watching them, getting imagery, finding out how Fathi operated, when the best time to attack was. She could have told Fathi, but the last thing she needed was him becoming suspicious of her power. He didn’t know about the drones until a missile struck the military barracks in the back of the compound. The explosion rocked the entire compound and the first thing the soldiers did was to get her and Fathi out.
“I can help,” Tsubame pretended to plead and beg as the guards forced her toward an exit of the compound. “I can stop them from dropping anymore missiles.”
Fathi ignored her, as did the soldiers as they pushed her along. Tsubame then found gap in their cover over her and ran. As soon as she rounded a corner, she stepped into a shadow and used the shadows to travel to the roof. Tsubame could have done what she was about to do from anywhere, but it had been important that she got away from Fathi to manage it and that the magical community would know that what she was about to do hadn’t been a coincidence of Mother Nature. She wanted them know that she had ac
ted very purposely as Mother Nature.
After weeks of holding back her true potential or at least the potential she had access to for now, using powerful magic was like using magic for the first time again. Not in the sense that she was unfamiliar with it, but in the sense that she felt the rush and exhilaration that came with being able to manipulate something that was beyond the physical, that most people could only attempt and fail to imagine. She used that power to cause the wind to disturb and pick up the dessert sand in and around the city, to form a massive cloud of dust and sand. It quickly began to overtake the compound and eventually it began to overtake the entire city and undoubtedly, it overtook the strike planes that were hovering above and around the compound and the city in general.
Tsubame was the eye of the storm. It whirled and danced around and above her like a typhoon. Tsubame wasn’t sure how long her sand typhoon lasted as it was always hard to gauge time when using powerful magic like she had, but by the time she was done and the sand had settled, a few hundred yards from the compound was a strike plane covered in sand. She tilted her head as she observed it, feeling no way in particular about it only that this represented the next phase in her plan, where the magical world and soon the entire world would realize that they had much bigger problems than a bunch of rag tag supposed terrorist groups that had gotten out of their control.
As she turned to make her way from the roof, the guards were just arriving with Fathi, staring in awe at the plane in the distance. Tsubame swept past them and as she was leaving whispered to Fathi, “I think they’ll be ready to talk to you now.”
The Immortal Queen Tsubame: Awakening Page 15