Queen of Oblivion

by Giles Carwyn

  Brophy stared at the screaming woman as she clutched the dead Islander’s head to her chest. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was. The roaring voices inside his head drowned out all other sound except that heartrending scream.

  He looked down the length of his blade and saw it covered with pure red blood, the same blood that pooled below the dead man’s severed thigh. It slowly ran down the slanted deck as the ship continued sinking.

  The woman frantically hugged the Islander. Her blouse and breeches were stained red from her stomach all the way to her knees. The roaring voices in his mind told him to slash her, to finish her and anyone else who came close. With an effort, he pushed the compulsion away and slowly realized who she was.

  It was Ossamyr. Of course it was Ossamyr. Brophy shook his head and looked for Arefaine. There was no one else left alive on the ship. The Ohohhim had freed the Silver Islander vessel and already had the sails up. She was safe, at least for now.

  Brophy dropped his sword. It slid down the deck and sank into the water. He fell to his knees and stared at Ossamyr as she grieved.

  “Why?” the Physendrian queen sobbed. “Why did you stop him?”

  Brophy kept panting, feeling empty and alone now that his battle rage had left him.

  “Why did you let her live?” she cried.

  “You were making a terrible mistake,” he said.

  “Do you have any idea what she’s going to do on Efften? She’s going to set that thing free!”

  “I know why she’s going, and I know who awaits her. But she won’t set him free. She will kill him.”

  “Is that what you think?” she said quietly. The way she held the Silver Islander bothered Brophy. This was not the queen who would barely bat an eyelash at a servant who had died doing her bidding. He remembered what Shara had said about Ossamyr and her endeavors to free him.

  “Are you still so naive, Brophy?” Ossamyr asked. “Arefaine’s not going to kill him. She’s going to join him.”

  “That is possible. But we’re going to have to trust her.”

  “Trust her? Like you trusted me?”

  Brophy clenched his teeth. His hands itched for a sword, but instead he said, “You’re right. I did trust you. I trusted you with my heart and my life. You took my hope on that day, Ossamyr, every last bit of it. Why?”

  She bowed over Reef, cradling his head in her lap. “I was afraid, Brophy. Just afraid. When Phandir discovered my plans, I didn’t know what to do. All I could see was your death, my death. I didn’t see anything beyond.”

  “You planned everything from the beginning.”

  “No,” she cried. “Never. I felt more with you than I could handle. It terrified me,” the queen said, looking up at him like a lost child. “By the Nine, Brophy, I was so in love with you.”

  Brophy lowered his head and stared at the deck. The rising water lapped against his feet. Flashes of his days in Physendria ran through his mind. Laughing with Ossamyr. Tickling her. Making love to her in a round bed hanging from the ceiling.

  “I was weak, Brophy, at the time when I most needed to be strong. I didn’t set out to hurt you. I just failed you.”

  Brophy pressed his hands against his face. “Then I wasn’t crazy,” he murmured. “You did love me. I wasn’t wrong to trust you.”

  “Of course I loved you,” she interrupted. “I love you still. But you should never have trusted me. And you can’t trust Arefaine either. You have to kill her,” Ossamyr begged. “Kill her, before we’re all her slaves.”

  “You don’t know her like I do. I can change her mind.”

  “Brophy, I’ve seen where those people’s souls go. I’ve heard their screams. Don’t let her do that to anyone else. Don’t let her release what is locked in those silver towers.”

  “She’s not the monster you think she is. All she wants is to be loved.”

  “Sometimes love isn’t enough,” Ossamyr said weakly.

  “I know,” he said, looking after the Silver Islander ship that had been commandeered by the Ohohhim. It was almost out of sight. “But sometimes it is.”

  The waves had covered Brophy legs and were lapping against Ossamyr’s knees. He grabbed her to keep her from sliding. She held tight to Reef.

  “You’re bleeding,” Brophy said.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said softly, not seeming to hear him. “Not for us. Not for me. I can’t stop her now.” She turned her gaze on Brophy. “You chose your path with Arefaine. Do what you must. If you think she is our salvation, then follow your heart. The Nine know that you were always better at that than I was. But before—” She coughed, doubling over, and wiped her hand across her mouth. It came away smeared with red. “But before you go, you need to know something. There hasn’t been a single moment in the last eighteen years when I wouldn’t have given my life to take back that day in Physendria and follow my heart instead of my fears. Not a single moment.”

  A wave washed over them, covering Reef to the waist. He began to slip from her grasp. Brophy reached out and grabbed his tunic.

  “No,” she said. “Just let him go.”

  “Did you love him?” Brophy asked.

  “I hope so. I really hope so.”

  He hesitated another moment, and then let the mighty Silver Islander sink beneath the water.

  “I’m sorry, Brophy,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry. After all these years, that’s all I wanted to say.”

  Another wave washed over them, and Brophy began to swim. He kept Ossamyr’s head above water, leaned over, and kissed her on the cheek. The roaring voices seemed very quiet at that moment.

  “It’s all right. It was a long time ago,” he said. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It just doesn’t matter.”

  Ossamyr smiled weakly before closing her eyes.

  “Let me go, Brophy,” Ossamyr whispered. “Go find Shara; she’s been waiting for you for a very, very long time.”

  Brophy looked down at Ossamyr’s copper skin as it turned a deathly pale. A single gasp escaped her lips as a wave washed over her face.

  “May the Seasons protect you,” he murmured. “May you feast with the Nine and return to this world stronger and wiser than before.”

  Brophy let the Physendrian queen sink beneath the surface.

  PART III

  Children of Magic and Lies

  Prologue

  D arius Morgeon.

  Darius winced at the sound of Oh’s voice drifting into his mind.

  “Don’t you ever talk to me again,” he whispered. “Never again.”

  The archmage’s tears fell unchecked upon his sleeping daughter. He touched the curve of Arefaine’s cheek. Her eyes darted back and forth beneath her tiny lids. He could only imagine what she might be dreaming.

  Live, he thought, pulling the infant child to his chest. Live long enough for me to make this right.

  Her little body hung limp in his arms. She was warm, too warm, but her breathing was calm and steady. He wrapped his ani around her like a cocoon, making sure she stayed asleep. He wanted to do more, but there wasn’t time. He had to hurry.

  Darius rose amid the shards of shattered crystals. The entire floor was covered ankle-deep with shimmering fragments. Far above him, the alcoves lining the walls of the Great Tower sat empty, testament to the madness that had almost consumed them all. Only moments ago, a devastating storm of black emmeria had swept through this chamber, nearly escaping into the world.

  Darius’s arms trembled as he looked at the founder of Efften, battered and bloody against the far wall. Once again he was bound with the delicate silver chains that had caged him for nearly a year, but they would not hold him for long. A long shaft of daylight from the entranceway lit the battered archmage in sharp relief. A bubble of blood grew larger and smaller at the corner of his mouth as he breathed. Darius longed to wrap his hands around Efflum’s neck and squeeze. But it wouldn’t work. Nothing had worked.

  He wrenched his mind away from his former teacher and s
taggered to the tower doors. The city was in flames. The port was packed with the gleaming prows of Silver Islander ships. Screaming tattooed men with axes in both hands rushed through the streets, cutting down everyone in their path. The slaves had returned to repay their masters. A reckoning had come at last.

  “Father!” a lone figure shouted, running across the courtyard and up the tower’s steps. Darius opened the filigreed doors and Jazryth rushed through.

  “The Islanders! They’ve—” She cut herself short as she slipped on the broken crystals and nearly fell. Her eyes found Efflum’s battered form, and she put her hand to her heart.

  “How did he—”

  “Those fools set him free.”

  Jazryth closed her eyes and swayed. The muscles in her jaw tightened, and she opened her eyes. “Who?”

  “Lyss and his friends. They cut his chains, freed him to help fight against the Islanders.”

  “Where is he? Where is Lyss?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “He didn’t make it.” Jazryth’s lips twisted as she fought the tears. She put a trembling hand over her face.

  Darius shook his head, seething in anger toward his daughter’s desperate, but well-meaning husband. The young man had died in the ani storm his father had released along with all of his friends. His rash attempt to release his father had nearly destroyed the world. And now it had cost his daughter’s heart as well.

  Jazryth tore her hand away from her face, keeping it in a fist at her side. Her eyes were red. She looked at the shards beneath her feet, and immediately looked upward at the walls. Her eyes widened as she understood. “The emmeria,” she mouthed, scanning the debris. “Where…?”

  “Efflum shattered one of the stones to draw power from it. It set off a chain reaction. They all shattered.” Darius couldn’t keep the venom from his voice as he nodded at Efflum. “That madman would have killed us all if I hadn’t arrived.”

  “But where is it?” she said quietly, still looking. “Where did the emmeria go?”

  Darius looked down at Arefaine, sleeping in his arms.

  Jazryth stared at her sister for a moment and then gasped. “Father!”

  “She’s safe,” Darius insisted. “As long as she’s asleep, we’re all safe.” He held Arefaine out to Jazryth, but she took a step back.

  “What did you do to her?!”

  “I did what I had to do!”

  “What you had to?”

  “I had no choice!” he cried, his voice cracking. “It was too much power, I couldn’t contain it. The black emmeria would have destroyed us all—” Darius clutched the infant to his chest. His voice dropped to a whisper. “He said she was our only hope.”

  She followed his gaze to Oh’s coffin. “You did this because of him? Because of a ghost? In a box?”

  “Please.” He stepped toward her, again offering the baby. “Please, you have to take her. Efflum could wake at any moment.”

  Jazryth backed up, shaking her head. “I can’t,” she murmured.

  “You have to keep her asleep,” he insisted. “And then you have to get her out of here. If the Islanders find her, they will kill her and destroy us all.”

  “It’s too late,” she moaned. “The city is overrun.”

  “Jazryth!” he snapped. “Efften doesn’t matter anymore! You have to take Arefaine. Take her as far away as you can. Find a place to hide her, then come back for me.”

  “Come back?”

  “I can’t do this alone!” he implored her.

  Jazryth stood, tense, a deer ready to run. “What about Mother. Why can’t Mother—”

  Darius took a deep breath, but he saw the recognition in his daughter’s eyes as she realized the truth. Slowly the cracks in her strength began to mend, and he saw his daughter return.

  “All right,” she whispered, coming toward him. He handed Arefaine to her. Jazryth took her sister from him, but held her at arm’s length. “I’ll get her off the island,” she said. “I promise.”

  “And then return.”

  She looked at him, a long crease between her brows.

  He motioned toward Efflum. “I can’t kill him. I already tried. He has magic I’ll never understand. But I’ll keep him in the tower as long as I can.”

  “But the Islanders—”

  “They’ll never get in here, but I can’t hold that man forever. You must come back with help.” he said, seeing the uncertainty in her eyes. “You must come back.”

  “I will,” she said. “I promise.”

  He embraced her quickly, holding her one last time. “My strong, beautiful daughter,” he murmured in her ear before he released her. “Go now. As fast as you can.”

  She paused, ready to run. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, Jazryth. Now fly.”

  Her ani flared as she took a deep breath, and she ran from the tower, Floani energy rushing through her body.

  Darius watched her for a moment and then turned to Oh’s coffin. With a brutal swipe, he brushed the crystal debris from the top, cutting his hands. He slammed his palms on the tarnished silver lid and clenched his teeth.

  “There,” he seethed, “it’s done. I fixed your mistake. Your failed pupil will never again draw upon his wretched emmeria.”

  Efflum moaned, shifting in his sleep.

  Darius sneered, pointing a finger at the silver doors of the tower. They slammed shut with a booming finality.

  Drawing another deep breath, he turned back to the coffin. “You got what you wanted, old man. I’ve sacrificed my children upon your altar. But know this. I will always hate you. By all that is good in this world, I will hate you and everything you ever did to us.”

  Efflum shook his head. His eyelids fluttered. Crushed crystals scraped on the floor as he tried to push himself upright.

  Darius felt a singular calm descend over him, and he prepared himself for the battle to come.

  Hurry, Jazryth, he thought. Hurry back to me.

  Chapter 1

  Arefaine,” her father said, his voice soft and distant.

  Arefaine winced, struggling to push the throbbing pain from her head. She fought to open her eyes, but she couldn’t make them focus.

  “You have slept too long, my dear. Bring yourself back to us. Efften awaits.”

  “What?” Arefaine mumbled, hugging the canvas bag to her chest. She could feel the warmth of the containment stones within. “Where am I?”

  “Aboard a Silver Islander warship.”

  “What?” She jerked upright, the sudden jolt of fear burning away the haze. It was true. Rough wooden beams and planking surrounded her. Strong and utilitarian. No black-lacquered walls. No tall ceiling. No Ohohhim. “Have I been captured?” she asked, throwing aside the blankets and standing.

  The room rocked, and she reached out, steadying herself against the damp wall covered with condensation. Her hand went to her aching head and found a bandage tied around it. She pulled the white cloth away and threw it across the room.

  “Gently, my daughter. Gently. I nearly lost you several times today.” Her father’s ghost placed an insubstantial hand on her arm.

  “What happened? How could the Islanders have won?”

  Her father chuckled, the skin crinkling around his pale blue eyes. “Oh no. Our enemies have not won. They have been obliterated, slain and cast into the sea. The betrayal of Efften has finally been avenged.”

  Arefaine’s chest expanded as if a thousand cords around her heart had suddenly been cut. “The barbarians are dead?” she whispered, and sank back to the bed, unsure if she should jump up and scream or curl into a ball and cry.

  Her father nodded. “Every one of them.”

  She pressed her palms against her face, and the pounding in her head receded a little as she took a deep breath. She tried to remember the battle, but the details were jumbled.

  “What happened? How did we win?”

  “The battle was never in doubt. Our numbers assured us victory, but the Islanders attacked y
ou directly.”

  Arefaine nodded as the images came back to her. She could see the silver prows of the barbarian ships heading toward her. “I remember that. I tried to use my magic against them.”

  Her father nodded. “We nearly fell into their trap. They used the same tactics today that they used to destroy Efften hundreds of years ago.”

  “What tactics?”

  “They have learned to create a substance that is anathema to true magic. It destroys the sacred fire and any who use it.”

  She fought to collect her memories. She had a vague recollection of a loud noise and a blinding flash followed by a sickening drop. “Is that what caused the explosion?”

  “Yes, they were able to pervert your power and use it against you, creating a blast that destroyed half our forces.”

  “Half our forces!”

  “Shhh, calm yourself. All is well.” He bowed his head until the tip of his goatee nearly touched his slender chest. “Victory often comes at a cost.”

  “What cost?”

  “I am afraid the entire Ohohhim fleet was destroyed.”

  She gasped, trying to remember the faces of the men who had sailed with her. She couldn’t recall a single one. All she could see was the blinding flash. “You tried to stop me, didn’t you?”

  “I did, but I was too late. You were thrown from the crow’s nest and knocked unconscious. For a moment I feared the worst.”

  Despite the pain of her loss, Arefaine’s heart swelled to hear the emotion behind her father’s words. She reached out to take his hand. There was no flesh to touch, but she could feel the man within and the love he bore her.

  Her father collected himself and continued. “Your flagship was damaged in the explosion and the barbarians boarded the sinking ship. Fortunately, I was able to protect you and convince your men to commandeer an enemy vessel. The battle was fierce, but we prevailed.”

  Arefaine nodded, feeling both relieved and cheated somehow that she hadn’t been able to witness it. “How long until we reach Efften?” she asked.

  Her father sighed. “I am afraid we would already be there if not for certain complications.”