Souldrifter: The Dreamwielder Chronicles - Book Two

by Garrett Calcaterra

  The smug smile was gone from Senator Emil’s face. Behind him, the audience members whispered to one another.

  “If you gentlemen would like to discuss a treaty to ensure the continued peace between our nations, I would love nothing more,” Makarria offered. “We could additionally talk trade treaties and lowering tariffs if you would like.”

  Senator Emil was shaking his head. “The Republic will not sign into any treaties when the stability and certainty of the Five Kingdoms is still in question, Your Highness. It is all well and good for you to give us your assurances, but they are only words. As we saw very well yesterday, you are barely capable of ensuring your own personal safety.”

  “You forget yourself, Senator,” Caile barked.

  “Our apologies,” Ambassador Mahalath jumped in. “We meant no disrespect. I too would love nothing more than to work with you, Your Highness, in securing new trade treaties, but Senator Emil is right—the Republic will not sign into any peace treaties with a nation in turmoil.”

  “It is a simple decision to make, Your Highness,” Senator Emil said. “One does not refuse the aid of the Republic. Hear and accept our terms, and Valaróz will be well rewarded.”

  Hisses and angry whispers filled the throne room.

  “My answer is no, Senator.”

  Senator Emil bowed his head. “So be it. Your choice is made. I leave with the tide to return to Khail Sanctu. Be forewarned, the Republic too will be escalating its naval presence, and at the first sign of further unrest in the Five Kingdoms, we will do whatever is necessary to secure the safety of our nation.”

  Makarria read the message in his words loud and clear. It was just as she had known it would be: forced aid or threats of invasion.

  “You have my leave to go, Senator,” Makarria said flatly.

  He spun on his heel and strode away, ignoring the hisses and muttered insults the audience threw at him. Ambassador Mahalath, however, lingered behind. “Your Highness, with your permission I would stay here as ambassador of the Old World Republic. Through me, you can still work on perhaps…easing tensions between our two nations.”

  “Of course,” Makarria told him. He could prove useful if war indeed grew imminent. “You have been given your quarters in the embassy wing already. They are yours until such time as you choose to leave.” Not exactly inviting words, but as accommodating as Mahalath made himself out to be, Makarria still didn’t trust him.

  Mahalath bowed wordlessly, and turned on his heel to follow Senator Emil out of the throne room.

  Makarria let out a slow breath, making sure not to change her demeanor outwardly. She still had an audience.

  “People of Valaróz,” she addressed them. “I apologize, but again we must postpone the day’s scheduled hearings. I leave today for Col Sargoth to oversee the election of the new Sargothian King and ensure our continued stability. As before, my mother, Princess Prisca, will rule in my stead, along with the help of Captain Haviero. I will return with all possible haste. Until then, may Vala watch over us all.”

  It was done. The herald called for everyone to bow, and Makarria stood and exited the throne room alongside Caile to pass into the sitting room, which was still in shambles from the day before.

  “That was well done,” Caile said.

  Makarria let him give her a sidelong hug and smiled wanly. “Thanks, but we don’t have time to congratulate ourselves. You need to pack. I need to debrief my mother to rule while we’re gone, and then go meet with Natale and Talitha again. We’re putting together something that will make our task much easier. I’ll summon you when I’m ready.”

  Caile’s face turned serious. “I’m still not thrilled about the prospect of splitting up. You’re sure you want to go to Col Sargoth alone?”

  “I won’t be alone, Caile. I’ll have Talitha, and Siegbjorn, and Fina with me.”

  “Sure, but I won’t be with you, which is as good as being alone.” Only a trace of a smile at the corners of his mouth hinted at his mischievousness.

  “Go, pack your bags,” she said pushing him into the corridor and smiling despite herself as she turned the opposite direction to go meet with her mother.

  • • •

  Back in his own quarters, Caile packed his rucksack absently, his mind occupied instead by the monumental task before them. They would be taking Siegbjorn’s airship, first to Valeza, where Makarria would put Caile in charge of the western Valarion naval fleet, and then Makarria would continue on to Col Sargoth. Her plan was sound enough, he had to agree, but he didn’t like being away from her, especially with her going headlong into a Sargothian political maelstrom. He’d been thrown into a similar situation not so long ago and had nearly lost his life. Indeed, he would have died if Talitha hadn’t found him and saved him in the underworld beneath Col Sargoth.

  Caile sighed. He would have to trust Talitha to look after Makarria now, although Talitha had already proven herself out of her element in the political realm.

  “What are you huffing about, Prince?” Lorentz asked him.

  Caile snapped out of his reverie and glanced over to where Lorentz was placing the last of their wet weather clothes into a traveling chest. “It’s just that I’m worried about Makarria going off to Col Sargoth,” Caile said, plopping himself back into a chair beside the dormant fireplace. “She has no easy task before her.”

  “Nor do you.”

  “No, I don’t,” Caile had to agree. “And I’m already weary from running around in that wild goose chase yesterday. If I’m weary, Makarria must be exhausted. She was up all night doing some sort of sorcery to communicate with Taera. And now she means to set sail on the airship as soon as she’s finished with whatever new sorcery she and Talitha are cooking up.”

  Lorentz latched the lid closed on the chest and sat down across from Caile. “You should urge the queen to rest then,” he said.

  “We don’t have time. Only thirteen days until the council votes, and Makarria needs to get there as soon as possible if she’s going to sort through the mess and make sure a worthy candidate is elected.”

  “One night added to her travel time will make little difference in the execution of the queen’s plans, but one night of rest can make all the difference in her frame of mind. Well rested, she will think more clearly, be better able to face her enemy. I worry for her well-being.”

  Caile nodded, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and look Lorentz fully in the face. This wasn’t going to be easy, but he owed his mentor the truth. “Look, Lorentz, I know you’re worried, but maybe you’ve been worrying too much. Makarria asked me to speak with you…”

  “Oh?”

  “She feels like you’re being overprotective, disregarding her orders and over-reacting. She was not happy you killed all the attackers in the stables. That’s why she’s taken Fina as a bodyguard and pawned you off back into my care.”

  Caile smiled to soften the half-hearted jest, but Lorentz merely shrugged.

  “I was only keeping the queen safe.”

  “I know that. You know that. But she’s not like you and me. She’s seen enough killing and she wants to avoid it at all costs. And you know, she’s probably right. She says a lot of the things you used to tell me about the virtue of holding my tongue and keeping my sword in its scabbard. Whatever the case may be, she’s aggravated with you. You’d do best to steer clear of her on our voyage. Give her space and try not to be overbearing in protecting her.”

  Caile couldn’t bring himself to mention anything about Makarria’s original request, the request to send Lorentz back to Kal Pyrthin. It would pain him too much, and I gave him the meat of the truth, at least.

  “You can be a bossy ass sometimes, you know?” Caile added. “I used to get so aggravated with you when you wouldn’t let me ride off into a fray, or speak up in one of Don Bricio’s council meetings, or climb up the rigging on a ship. I wanted so much to be a man and do things myself. I know how Makarria feels. She’s not a girl anymore. She’
s a woman and a queen.”

  Lorentz regarded him silently for a long moment. “But now you see things from my perspective, don’t you? You understand what it means to care for someone and want to protect them. You feel more deeply about her than you want to admit, even to yourself.”

  “Well, yes. I suppose.”

  “It is a fine line to tread—protecting, overprotecting?—but in this case, you must protect the queen while you still can. She has been using her power much these last few days, and it will leave its toll on her. Urge her to rest and leave in the morning. You must make her stay the night if any of this is going to work. I can’t do it for you now. It’s up to you, Caile.”

  Caile frowned. Makarria wouldn’t want to hear it, but he knew that Lorentz was right. Makarria needed rest, and he was the only one who could convince her.

  • • •

  It was many hours later. Makarria didn’t know how many, but she knew she had been in a dreamstate for a long time and that she was exhausted. Despite that, she was overcome with a surge of triumph as she slid back into her chair to admire her handiwork.

  “Are you all right?” Talitha asked.

  “Yes, just tired.”

  They were in the reading room of the library, deep in the basement beneath the palace, sitting at a round oaken table. Natale had culled more texts on creating magical conduits, and after consulting them and solidifying their methodology with Talitha’s knowledge, Makarria and Talitha had done it, together as a team. They’d taken seven smooth river rocks—the most spherical ones they could find, all nearly the size of grapefruits—and turned them into speaking relics. Once they were delivered into the right hands, never again would Makarria or her friends have to use the scent-hounds to communicate long distances.

  “They’re beautiful,” Natale said, getting up from where he sat alongside Fina in the corner of the room, safely distanced from injury or interfering with the sorcery Makarria and Talitha had performed.

  The stones were indeed beautiful. Whereas before they had been a flat gray granite, mottled with small flecks of white quartz, they now had taken on an opaque hue, marbled with colored swirls that spiraled inward, the design reminding Makarria of a sea-snail’s shell.

  “We must test them, to verify they work,” Natale said.

  “They will work,” Talitha replied. “Trust me.”

  Natale pursed his lips. “It’s my way, to test and verify phenomena, whether they be natural or magical.”

  “Magic and nature are one in the same,” Talitha told him. “Both are the children of Tel Mathir.”

  “Go ahead, Natale,” Makarria said, sparing the man from further lecture. “Grab one and go to the darkest corner of the library you can find.”

  Like an excited schoolboy, Natale grabbed one of the stones in both hands and scurried off to disappear between the shelves of leather-bound tomes.

  “Fina,” Makarria said as she sat waiting. “Would you send a servant to go fetch Caile? I want to show him what we’ve done.”

  “Of course,” Fina replied, emerging from the shadows of the corner where she had been standing in silent watch.

  “And, Fina, make sure it’s Caile alone.”

  Fina nodded, catching Makarria’s meaning—No Lorentz—and strode off silently.

  Once Fina was gone, Makarria turned to Talitha. “Well, let’s show our skeptical scholar what we’ve created then.” She grabbed the nearest of the stones, held it close to her face in both hands, and closed her eyes. Each of the stones had its own signature, a unique hue that colored your vision when you held the stone. This particular one was yellow. In her mind, Makarria imagined red, the color of the stone Natale held. “Hello, Natale,” she spoke. “Where are you hiding?”

  With the connection established, Makarria opened her eyes.

  “Vala’s teats!” came Natale’s voice through the stone. It was muffled, distant sounding, as if they were speaking from opposite ends of a corridor, but she could hear him clearly. “It works,” Natale said. “And you startled me near to pissing myself.”

  Makarria couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I’m glad you managed not to soil your garments or any of your precious books.”

  “Indeed! Even knowing it was coming, it’s unnerving to hear your disembodied voice.”

  “Unnerving as it may be, it’ll suit our purpose. No more waiting days or weeks to send messages through ravens.” She said that as much for herself as she did for Natale. She wouldn’t admit it outwardly, but she had not been as confident as Talitha that the stones would work. It was one thing for Makarria to physically change an object—to turn her gown to chainmail like she’d done in the council room, or even to remove the floor beneath someone’s feet like she’d done to Emperor Guderian—but it was an entirely different matter creating a magical device. She had not so much changed the rocks as she had enhanced them, made them in-tune with one another, and sensitive to reverberations in the air. That’s the way Talitha explained it, at least. Makarria still didn’t fully understand it, and Talitha had been forced to give her directions throughout the entire process, using her words to describe things Makarria needed to envision in her dreamstate. It was done now, though, and Makarria was relieved the stones indeed worked.

  Natale returned with the red speaking stone, more excited than when he’d left.

  “Grab the storage cases and let’s pack them for travel,” Makarria said.

  Natale dutifully set the red stone down and ran off to retrieve the wooden crate containing the seven cases he’d ordered the royal carpenter to build to their specifications earlier that afternoon. He returned a few moments later from his office and laid the crate on the floor, where he pried off the lid. Inside were six padded boxes, each of them lined with a different color of silk.

  As they were placing the stones in their respective boxes, Fina returned with Caile.

  “Perfect timing,” Makarria said, waving Caile to her. “Look what we’ve created. Speaking stones. The red one is for your sister in Kal Pyrthin.” She held it up for him to see, then placed it back in the red silk cloth and grabbed up another. “The silver one is for Talitha and the Snjaer Firan in the Caverns of Issborg. The blue one is for King Hanns in Norg, the green for King Lorimer in Golier, though neither of them will get theirs until I’m sure they’re allied with us. The black one is for Col Sargoth—I will keep it with me until a new king is chosen. The yellow one is for here, Sol Valaróz. My mother will keep it until this is all over and we return. And the orange one is for you to take. We’ll be able to communicate with each other no matter where we are, Caile.”

  Caile took up his stone in both hands and stared into the orange swirled orb. “This is wonderful, Makarria. It really is. You might have just saved the Five Kingdoms. This changes everything. We can coordinate our actions and compete with the Old World now. No more being two steps behind.”

  Makarria smiled. “Let’s not get too proud of ourselves yet. We have a lot of work before us still, and an airship to get on to deliver the stones. What time is it? I still need to pack my things.”

  “Dusk,” Caile told her.

  “Already? We best hurry then.”

  He frowned and shook his head. “No, Makarria. You’re exhausted. You need sleep. When’s the last time you rested?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s not important,” she said, refusing to think about the last few days. “I can’t afford sleep right now.”

  “We can’t afford for you to not sleep,” Caile told her. “This plan of yours hinges on you having your wits about you to deal with the Sargothian council. You’ll do none of us any good if you’re sleep deprived and addled. Look at you—you can barely keep your eyes open. Attacked yesterday, then up all night talking to my sister, and then today the Old World ambassadors and the speaking stones. You’re wearing yourself thin, Makarria.”

  “He’s right,” Talitha said. “You need rest.”

  Makarria didn’t want to admit it, but it was true. She was
n’t certain she could even stand right now. But still, she was queen. People were counting on her.

  “I can sleep on the airship…”

  “But you won’t,” Talitha chided her. “I know you. Winter is nearly upon us and it will be a rough voyage. You won’t be able to sleep and you’ll insist on helping Siegbjorn. You can’t help yourself.”

  “Give yourself one night, Makarria,” Caile pleaded. “We’ll leave at dawn, and I promise, the time resting will be well spent. You’ve laid our plans well. Another seven or eight hours will make no difference.”

  The thought of one last night of sleep in her own bed was awfully enticing, she had to admit. And if both Caile and Talitha think I should…

  “Fine,” Makarria relented, deferring to her two most trusted advisors and friends.

  Caile smiled and offered his hand. “Thank you. C’mon, I’ll help you upstairs and have food sent to your chambers.”

  8

  Shadows in the Dark

  Ambassador Mahalath ate his late dinner in the solitude of his new quarters in the embassy wing of the royal palace of Sol Valaróz. Only a single candle lantern at the corner of his desk illuminated the odd-tasting food on his plate. Without the sour kishk yogurt he was accustomed to having in Khail Sanctu, the meat tasted dry and flavorless, and the rice was spicy in a way he had never experienced before. Or maybe it was just that he had lost his appetite. He pushed the plate aside, wiped his mustache clean with a napkin, and then took up the unsigned treaties the Senate had provided him with.

  Senator Emil made a mess of all of this, he thought, ruing the missed opportunity with Queen Makarria. I should have insisted that we meet with the queen in private, rather than confront her in her own courtroom. What was done was done now, though. Mahalath would just have to make the best of the situation. He would have some time to figure things out with the queen away, it seemed. While she was off in the Kingdom of Sargoth, perhaps he could forge a relationship with her royal mother. If nothing else, he would get a chance to meet with the other ambassadors and get a true sense as to the stability of the Five Kingdoms. Perhaps they weren’t as bad off as the Senate had suggested.