by L. Penelope
For that, you will have to kill Nikora. Once she’s dead, her spell will fade and you will have access to the resources you need. Then you can reclaim what is rightfully yours. What you struggled and sweat and bled for for hundreds of years.
Still, the medallion is not totally worthless.
It can still help you to reclaim your land and your people from your sister who has no right to them. For it can help you contact her.
Using the power of the medallion might not allow you to travel, but you can send your voice and image. There is power enough for that.
You focus on the intention and picture your twin. Where is she now? When she would visit, she would often smell of honeyberry flowers and freshly cut grass. Perhaps she is even now out walking the grounds of the palace. Luxurious grounds in a temperate climate unlike this frozen wasteland where you currently reside.
In all your years of conquest, you never made it to Rosira, never saw the city of your birth. You never left Lagrimar until the day the Mantle came down, but today is a new day. You successfully destroyed the Mantle and will be truly free soon enough.
For a moment nothing happens, and then her face winks into existence above you, floating in the air. You catch glimpses of her surroundings, she is not outside, but in a modestly decorated room—at least by your standards. If she is surprised to see you she masks it well.
“Sister. Are you not happy to see me?” You spoke these words once not too long ago, before she cruelly betrayed you and stole your Songs.
Now she stares, her face a mask. “Happier than I was to receive the gifts you sent. Those were from you, were they not?”
“Gifts?”
“Three of them. I cannot say they were welcome, however, and I should not like to receive any more.”
You chuckle. “I wish I could take the credit, but alas, I am far less free than I would like to be. Unable to give to you what I truly would like to.”
“Did you trade one cage for another?” A smile is in her voice. It warms you some. You have missed her.
“A more gilded version and quite a bit cooler.”
“I have been looking for you,” she says.
“You prefer me in your prison to someone else’s.”
“I would prefer you free, if you could manage it. I will come and get you; where are you?”
“Honestly, I cannot say. Though I am no maiden in need of rescuing. And you and I have very different ideas about freedom. Besides, I have a plan.”
She raises an eyebrow. “And you think I will help?”
“Did you not just offer to help?”
“I offered to retrieve you, that is different.”
“Perhaps. But I have a question for you.”
“And I for you, brother. What is it, exactly, that you want?” Her voice is low and slow.
“What I always wanted, dear sister. Equality.”
A hint of worry flickers across her gaze. “What is it you want to ask?”
“I am having some difficulty recollecting—are you familiar with Yllis’s research when he studied the blood magic? I know he showed you his journals.” An expression close to heartbreak crosses her face at the mention of her former lover. A pang of regret hits you. You had to kill him after all, but that was war. He would have killed you first.
“What are you asking me?” she rasps.
“Before things between us soured, when he would still share his discoveries, he had mentioned exploring more complex ways of combining blood magic and Earthsong. Did he ever use Nethersong as well? And did he succeed?”
She shakes her head. “What makes you think I would help you in what you seek? Especially when you would only use it against me.”
“I have never given you more trouble than you could handle, dear sister. However, some things are inevitable. Things like your love for me.” You smile widely and almost feel that it is genuine. Her love is real, as is yours, honestly, but she has always loved you ineffectually. Or perhaps it was because you were ineffectual back then. Her love felt more suited for a puppy or some small, soft thing to be petted and cooed at but not respected. In that way she was like Sayya. The girl from so many years ago for whom you named a city. You would have been true to her, but she rejected you. The pain of heartbreak still threatens to tear you apart.
Sayya is long dead. Could you bring her back from the Eternal Flame? Or was she reborn into another life, had other loves? You wrangle your thoughts back from this precipice.
“I will not help you with the dead, brother. I will not help you destroy this place. And nothing that Yllis knew will help you, either, he had no experience with what you are trying to do.”
“I’m not so sure you know what Yllis had experience with. And did you not say you wished to see me free?”
“If you could manage it without harming anyone. If you could find the light of goodness within your nature. I believe it is still there. What would you do with your freedom, I wonder?” A shudder rolls through her, and she turns sharply, looking off behind her as if she heard something.
“When will you return?” she asks, turning back.
“When it is time. When I can reclaim what is mine.”
“None of this is yours, brother. And no one living will allow you to take it back.”
“You might not have as much choice about that as you think.”
She sighs deeply. In that motion she reminds you of your mother, a small woman with deep strength. You desperately wish that was enough, but it never has been. “If you were worried for me,” you say, “then I hope that your mind has been set at ease.”
The energy of the medallion wanes. It is a weak little thing, suitable for children and parlor tricks only.
“Stay safe, brother. Until I see you again.”
You chuckle. Her statement is ominous in its own way. “And you as well.” And then you allow the connection to wink out.
Her face is still familiar to you. Her voice even more so. You think back to those long days when you were in another cell and she would come to talk to you. Reminisce. Tell stories of days long past and people long dead.
It was nice. It felt a bit like …
But you can’t allow base sentimentality to step in. You squashed that long ago. Being human and mortal and powerless once again has made you soft. You must regain strength as soon as possible.
You will meditate, run through your memories until you find the thing that has been itching at your mind. The key needed for you to wrest control from the feeble, misguided zealots and return to your twin as promised.
On top.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The rich will find the hollow within
and seek to fill it.
The blessed will find the hollow without
and never rest til it is whole.
—THE HARMONY OF BEING
Jasminda took the hidden passages from her office to the Indigo Drawing Room, located in what she called the Blue Wing of the palace as it also housed the Blue Library. She’d cleaned out all the cobwebs and dust with her frequent travel using these narrow, secret corridors. It wouldn’t do for anyone to see her enter or exit this particular meeting room.
When she arrived via a concealed door in the paneling, she found Nadette, Ilysara, Camm, and the rest of the small team Nadette had put together, seated at a large, round table, newspapers spread out around them. Everyone looked up when she entered and scrambled to their feet.
“Sit, please,” Jasminda said, waving them down. “The vote is in four days,” she announced unnecessarily to the somewhat wary faces turned toward her. “Where do we stand?”
Camm rose, but Nadette held out an arm to stop him. She had put these people together and oversaw their tasks. The woman stood and cleared her throat. “As I stated in the report I delivered to you this morning, the media strategy is going well. It is meeting expectations. Our pro-unification editorials are being printed in all the papers except the Rosira Daily Witness. The editor there is firmly
pro-separation.
“But we have good traction in the others. We’re holding another poll tomorrow. And I have every confidence that we’ll continue seeing the uptick in those citizens who plan to vote for the unification.”
Jasminda nodded, not missing the somewhat aggrieved tone in the woman’s voice. Zann Biddel and the Reapers had managed to sway public opinion much further in a shorter period of time, but they were preying upon peoples’ prejudices and fears. Pleading the case to citizens’ better natures, appealing to their honorableness and love of humanity, was somewhat more difficult. The progress was much slower.
She had struggled with the language of the measure, needing it to truly represent the heart of both sides of this mess, even as it hurt her to do so. In just a few days, all Elsirans and Lagrimari in the country would vote on one of two options: grant full citizenship to all refugees from Lagrimar, or create a separate state within Elsira where the refugees would enjoy the full rights of citizenship. Outside of that district, however, they would be subject to the same treatment as any other foreigner—they’d need a visa to travel freely through the land, difficult-to-obtain work papers if they wanted to get a job. It would be a step up from what the settlers had endured for years, but not nearly enough.
She approached the table and bent over to read the fruits of their labor. The team had worked fast, placing editorials in amenable papers. Nadette’s morning report had included the fact that other editorial pieces, not originating from their media team, had begun showing up in newspapers as well. Regular folk reaching out in favor of including the refugees—exactly what Jasminda had hoped for.
“Thank you all for all your work,” she told the team. “I do appreciate it. And I don’t mean to be a bother, it’s just that this means everything to me. A vote for separation would tear my family apart. It’s very personal and I am, I admit, overly invested.”
Nadette sighed deeply. “I can’t know how you feel, but I promise you, we are all committed to this cause.”
Jasminda met the woman’s eye and smiled. “Thank you, I—”
The door to the meeting room opened, cutting her off. Zavros Calladeen, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, stood in the doorway staring down his nose at her.
“Your Majesty, might I have a word?” He sketched an almost infinitesimal bow.
The existence of this group in this meeting room was not common knowledge. The fact that Calladeen knew about it—and her presence here especially—was not good.
“I’m rather busy right now, can this wait, Minister?”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. It has to do with an important matter of jaywalking.” He fixed her with a blank look, but his words cut through her.
She and Camm shared a glance and she straightened from her position leaning over the table and tried to look as regal as possible. “Certainly, Minister.” Back ramrod straight, she exited into the hallway.
“Perhaps the library is empty at this hour?” he suggested.
She couldn’t tell from his tone whether he knew that’s where she’d just come from, but given how much else he knew, she wouldn’t bet against it.
Once in the library, she spun around to face him as he shut the door. She opened her connection to Earthsong and found him simmering with indignation and … disappointment? That was unexpected. There was also a sheen of fatigue around him.
“Your Majesty,” he said, appearing somewhat weary. “How long are you planning to hold Zann Biddel in custody?”
Jasminda pursed her lips, deciding how much to reveal. “His arrest was perfectly legal and aboveboard. And how do you know anything about it?” Biddell had been moved to a private part of the dungeon and was not with the general population, but she’d long suspected Calladeen had his own network of eyes and ears.
His jaw was tight as he spoke. “His arrest is public record, and while it was legal, his continuing incarceration is, shall we say, a gray area.”
Jasminda breathed deeply, trying to control the temper that rose whenever Biddell was mentioned. “He is being held in the interest of national security. Why, may I ask, is this local matter of interest to the Minister of Foreign Affairs?”
“I am sworn in my duty to protect Elsira and her people.” He spread his arms apart. She raised her brows.
Calladeen sighed and surveyed the room. “Would you like to sit, Your Majesty?”
“I would not.” The man was nearly swaying on his feet, but she had no intention of making things easy for him and protocol dictated no one could sit in the presence of a monarch without permission.
He straightened his tall form. “As an advisor to the crown, it is my duty to warn you that you must tread carefully here. Zann Biddell is very powerful. Holding him in this manner may cause problems down the road.”
“Do you deny that he is a criminal?”
“Criminals are brought to trial and evidence is presented. What exactly are you doing with him?”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s not being tortured, for Sovereign’s sake. He’s being questioned. He’s done untold damage to this nation and needs to be held accountable for it. Someone sworn to protect Elsira should understand that. Is the court system willing to do anything about him? They’ve certainly had enough time. How long should we wait while the attacks on our people continue?”
Calladeen shook his head slowly. “You are on shaky ground, Your Majesty. Which I think you understand.” Dark eyes pinned her in place. “What does His Majesty say?”
Jasminda glared, crossing her arms. Calladeen’s brows rose. “Ah, King Jaqros does not know. And I take it he does not know about your little public information committee over there?”
“If you are pro-separation, that is you prerogative, Minister. But my concern is unifying this nation, not dividing it. I will take the steps necessary to protect it and hold it together.”
“On the contrary, I am not pro-separation.” His intense gaze shifted and Jasminda frowned. “I think it is a waste of resources and ultimately a stupid idea. Those behind it want to place all the Lagrimari on a plot of land in the north of Elsira. Well, there are landowners there who would need to be appeased. A costly and shortsighted proposition.”
She blinked. “I-I did not realize you felt that way.”
“You have never asked me, Your Majesty.” His voice held mild censure.
Jasminda refused to be chastened by this. She avoided this man like the plague and with good reason.
“And what of Raun?” he asked.
“What about Raun?”
“I had thought you were to make an entreaty to King Pia regarding the embargo. My office was told by King Jaqros that you would be spearheading all future contact with the Raunians. We are unable to move forward without you.”
Jasminda shook her head, still reeling from his admission. “I’m working on Raun.”
“So you will be attending the foreign relations subcommittee meeting which begins in ten minutes?”
She glared at him.
“Or were you planning to remain here overseeing your secret, pet project?”
Heat began coming off her in waves. “Pet project? You just said you support unification. That team in there is vital to the vote going our way. The future of Elsira is at stake!”
His face gentled, something she never recalled witnessing before. “I’ll grant you that unification is important, but it’s not the most important thing. There are other vital issues requiring your attention as well. This embargo is crippling us. Regardless of how the vote goes, if we have no food to feed our people, if our economy collapses, then it will make little difference. With your brother marrying the king’s daughter, you are in the best position to come to some agreement with Raun.”
She heaved in a breath. She could not admit that she had no idea how to negotiate with Raun. Where to begin? What to say? She didn’t even know why their king had started the embargo in the first place. No one did.
“King Pia will not speak to me,” she said through cl
enched teeth. “The negotiations regarding the wedding soured and since then communication between us has been scarce. I need to focus on the issue that is threatening to destroy the land.”
He shook his head. “Our supply shortage and economic stagnation will destroy us first, Your Majesty. Rioting in the streets would be just the beginning if things get as bad as the reports project.”
There was truth in his words, but she couldn’t admit it—at least not to him. Too much history lay between them, too much mistrust and subterfuge. “I will deal with Raun in due time, Minister.”
The door opened and her assistant Ilysara ran in, looking harried. “There you are, Your Majesty,” she exclaimed. She looked suspiciously at Calladeen, then switched to Lagrimari. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“What is it?”
“We’ve had a communication from King Pia of Raun.”
Jasminda shot a glance at Calladeen, who appeared annoyed at the interruption.
Ilysara continued breathlessly, “She’s on her way. Here. The king. Now. She sent no warning, apparently wanting to take us by surprise. But she’s on a ship, which will be docking in Portside in a matter of hours.”
Jasminda straightened and a knot tightened inside her. “Hours? What—? How—?” She took a breath as thoughts jumbled in her head. “How did this message arrive?”
“Dolphin? At least that’s what I was told by the ambassador.” Her assistant looked perplexed by this, but Ani and the twins had told Jasminda of the Raunians’ use of dolphin messengers.
She turned on Calladeen. “Did you know about this? Is that why you came to see me?”
“Know about what?”
She’d forgotten they’d been speaking in Lagrimari. “King Pia is on a ship that will arrive in Rosira in a matter of hours.”
The man blanched. “I did not know this. I promise you I had no idea. I have never heard of such before—to give no warning for a state visit.”
Much as she didn’t want to, she believed him, and Earthsong backed up her gut feeling. She sighed and dropped her head, coming to terms with this new reality. When did the weight of the world come to rest on her slight shoulders? Why had Oola put it there?