The Broken Reign

by Jeremy Michelson

  The Red Witch felt her face burning. It was a detail father’s book had omitted. She had assumed the talisman would become obvious once she was in the starship.

  Mother shook her head. “Touch the wall, child.”

  The Red Witch hesitated. Was this some sort of trick? Was mother trying to stop her?

  “Go. It’s not a trick. You always tried to believe I hated you, Saven. But I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  The Red Witch searched her mother’s eyes for the lie. And could not find it.

  She rose from the bed and walked to the wall. It was a single smooth, featureless stone. There didn’t seem to be any obvious place to place her hand.

  “Just touch it,” mother said.

  The Red Witch reached out and placed her palm flat on the cold stone. A sudden warmth blossomed from the rock under her hand. The surface flushed red, radiating out from her hand. The rock pulled back like liquid. Light burst forth from the opening. The Red Witch held her other hand up in front of her eyes at the sudden brightness.

  There was something inside. The light dimmed. The Red Witch gasped as she saw the sword floating in the now clear rock.

  “Behold Sonomorte,” mother said, “The blade of Queen Amaya.”

  Sixty-Three

  Joshua

  Joshua stood by the bed, gazing down at Kojanza's pale face. The astringent smell of disinfectant hung in the air of the medical bay. Next to the bed, a monitor beeped out the steady rhythm of her heart. He leaned closer and lightly touched his lips to hers.

  Her eyes fluttered and opened. They focused on him. Her lips turned up a little. His kiss was rewarded with a smile, making his heart beat faster. He smiled at her and grasped her hand. It was cool to the touch. She had lost a lot of blood.

  “Joshua, blood of Amaya,” she said, her voice soft.

  "Kojanza, kick-ass warrior babe," he replied.

  Her brows furrowed. “You are so strange.”

  “No, I’m the one who fell down the rabbit hole,” he said, “It’s all of you who are the strange ones.”

  She rolled her head to the side, looking at the machine she was hooked up to. She started to sit up and Joshua gently pressed her shoulders back to the bed.

  “Joshua, we must continue to the Amaya’s weapons,” she said, “There is little time.”

  He shook his head. “You need to rest. You just about ran out of blood back there. The doc’s filled you up with artificial plasma, but you’re going to need a few hours at least. Their medicine is advanced, but not that advanced.”

  “But–”

  “But you are going to lay there and rest. Please. Humor me a little, okay?”

  Her eyelids drooped. The sedative the doctor had slipped into her IV was taking effect.

  “Just for a little while,” she said, “The world is shifting quickly now. I can feel it.”

  He gave her another kiss. Moments later she was asleep. He caressed her face, and went over to where the doctor was scowling at a screen.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  The doctor gave him a withering look. “No need to thank me. It’s my damned job.”

  He shrugged. “You do it well, and I’m grateful for that.”

  The doctor stared at him for a few moments. He got the feeling she was evaluating him.

  “You’re not from around here, are you?” she asked.

  “No, I’m from Portland, Oregon.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  “What year?”

  “2011.”

  The doc nodded her head. “So the portals have a time component to them, too.”

  “Apparently.”

  The doctor leaned back against the counter, folding her arms across her chest. “You don’t happen to know where a portal is, do you?”

  Joshua smiled. “I think you know I wouldn’t still be here if I did.”

  "Oh I don't know," the doctor said, "There's a certain thick-headed type that would probably like living in barbarian world here."

  “That wouldn’t be me.”

  The doctor opened her mouth to speak, but the door slid open and the short, pudgy crew member–Pete, if Joshua remembered correctly–poked his head it.

  “Hey, doc, you wanna come up to command? I think we might be getting something from the Captain.”

  “What!”

  The doctor launched herself from the counter. She was through the door before Joshua realized he should follow and find out what was going on. He took one glance back at the sleeping Kojanza and rushed out.

  Sixty-Four

  Joshua

  “We picked this up a few minutes ago,” Tony said.

  Joshua hung back, keeping to the shadowed part of the room–command center, control room, whatever it was. It certainly looked like the bridge of a starship. There were screens everywhere, though most of them were dark. Along the walls, there was a horseshoe-shaped console covered with buttons and levers and smaller screens. It all looked ridiculously complicated.

  The tall and thin crew member, Tony, was sitting at one of the consoles, tapping away at a keyboard. Pete and the doctor huddled over him. Off to one side stood a skinny, dark-haired boy.

  “Is it the Captain?” Dr. Fran asked.

  “Who else could it be?” Tony asked.

  Dr. Fran looked around. “Where’s Lou?”

  Tony snickered. “He’s lying down.”

  “What? Pete, go roust his ass, he’s–”

  “He’s not alone,” Pete said.

  Dr. Fran was silent for several seconds. “Well...”

  Joshua held his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. He wondered what kind of relationships these people had had with each other for the last ten years. It was probably complicated.

  “Shit, if he’s getting some, leave him alone,” Pete said, “This isn’t real time, he can look at it later.”

  Dr. Fran's scowl deepened, but she didn't say anything more about Lou. Joshua did a quick attendance count in his head. Hmmmm…Apparently, Vazsa was feeling friendlier than she had been acting earlier.

  “Well, what is it?” Dr. Fran asked.

  Tony tapped out some commands on the keyboard and another window appeared on the screen. Joshua couldn’t tell from his vantage point what was in it, other than text. Dr. Fran bent in. Her lips moved as she read it. She looked at Tony, then at Pete.

  “Are you shitting me?” she asked.

  “I don’t know if any fecal matter is involved, doc,” Tony said.

  “So how do you know it’s from the Captain?”

  “I ran an analysis on the signal,” Tony said, “It didn’t come from one of our comm units. Those are pretty limited range anyway, less than twenty miles. And that’s only because we placed a few antennas up in the trees. But it sounds like something the Captain would say. He’s always short and to the point.”

  “So what’s the source?” Dr. Fran asked.

  “It has to be one of the local artifacts,” Pete said, “Captain must have gotten hold of one.”

  Dr. Fran shook her head. “Sounds like he got a hold of a lot more than that.”

  Joshua edged forward, close enough to read the words in the window. There were two short sentences on it.

  Back soon. Be ready to go.

  Sixty-Five

  The Red Witch

  Captain Kelsey handed the comm unit back to The Red Witch. She tucked it into a pocket in her robe. Her skin was getting used to clothing again. Though she would never welcome wearing the rough fabric. She breathed deeply of the fresh air outside the house. The Captain leaned against the wall next to the front door.

  “Is that all you wish to communicate?” she asked.

  The Captain shrugged. “It’s enough. They’ll be ready. Assuming the natives haven’t killed them already. No offense, ma’am.”

  One corner of her mouth quirked up. It was hard not to like the Captain. He was charming and his presence fill
ed a room. A man born to lead. And to his obvious discomfort, for now he was having to follow.

  “So when do we get this show on the road?” he asked.

  She thought of the sword hidden in the wall of her mother’s bedroom. Did you leave me any other surprises, father? He had deliberately left it out of the book. But how could he have known mother would live long enough to tell her? It seemed to be leaving too much up to chance.

  “Well Red? When do we get to see this nifty starship of yours?” the Captain asked.

  She frowned. “I am The Red Witch, not Red.”

  Captain Kelsey shrugged. “You look like a Red to me. So how about an answer? The company is lovely and the food is great, but I’m not going to stick around any longer if you don’t give me some answers.”

  The Red Witch fixed him with an icy stare. If she didn’t need his skills...

  “Tomorrow at sunset, we will go to the starship,” The Red Witch said.

  The Captain smiled and pushed off from the wall. “Good. Now, where is this ship? Is it nearby?”

  “No, it is nowhere close.”

  “Then where is it?”

  The Red Witch turned and pointed to the northern horizon. “There. In the forest of the northern land.”

  The Captain rubbed his face and sighed. “You mean to tell me this starship is in the same damned forest where my ship is?”

  “Yes. They are within a few miles of each other.”

  He groaned. “That can’t be. I ran a scan of that forest myself. There aren’t any objects of that kind of mass. Other than my own ship.”

  “It is there,” she said, “You will have to trust me.”

  He gave her a look as if he questioned her sanity. He looked away and sighed again. “All right. Let’s say it’s there. How are we getting there?”

  “We will walk.”

  “Walk! Lady, I’ve been walking for years. It’s going to take a month to get back to my ship from here. And at sunset we will go to the starship. You want us to go walking in the dark? Give me that comm unit. I'll tell the crew I won't be seeing them anytime soon."

  He held out his hand, but The Red Witch didn’t move to give him the device. “You misunderstand,” she said, “We will walk through a portal. Tomorrow at sunset you will be inside the starship.”

  And then the dangerous part would begin.

  Sixty-Six

  Lord Fortune

  Lord Fortune stared hard at the dagger General Hemsdell held. It was difficult not to, since the point of it was between his eyes. Smoke from the campfire swirled around them. He wanted to cough, but held it, disliking the thought of losing an eye.

  Hemsdell leaned closer. Fortune could smell the man’s sweat, count the pores in his skin.

  “Now, Lord Fortune, once and perhaps future ruler of Bramblevine. Describe again the weapons our beloved former ruler placed in this crypt,” Hemsdell said.

  Fortune could hear soldiers milling around the camp in the forest. Sounds of men sharpening weapons. Squeaks of leather as they fitted armor in place. Horses snorted and stamped their feet. The air seemed alive with tension as they prepared for battle.

  “I do not believe it is a crypt,” Fortune said, “It’s actually some sort of–”

  Hemsdell pressed the blade to Fortune’s skin. Fortune drew in a hissing breath at the sudden pain. He felt warm blood trickle down the side of his nose.

  “That wasn’t the question I asked, now was it?” Hemsdell said.

  "As I said before, I was not able to see precisely the weapons within the vessel."

  “Then how am I to know there are weapons inside?” Hemsdell asked.

  Fortune swallowed hard. The bark of the tree he was pressed up against was biting into his back. I am far too old for this. Oh for the comfort of Bramblevine. His comfortable chair pulled up in front of the fire. Delicate pastries prepared by his cook.

  “Stay with me old fellow,” Hemsdell said. He twisted the point of the knife. Fortune winced.

  “There was a door. It opened into a large room made of metal. In the room were stacks of containers, all closed. When Anta Vin and I tried to touch any of the containers....”

  Fortune closed his eyes. How young had he been? Decades younger. Anta Vin had urged him on. But in the middle of the room sat the...

  "Tell me again what happened," Hemsdell said.

  Fortune opened his eyes. “How old were you when Amaya made us agree to the treaty?”

  “Me? I was but a lad,” Hemsdell said, “Maybe ten years old.”

  “Did anyone tell you about the treaty...ceremony, I guess, for lack of a better word?” Fortune asked.

  “Fortune, I really don’t have time for this,” Hemsdell said, “Just tell me again about the defenses you encountered in the crypt.”

  “There was a cat. A pure white cat with long hair,” Fortune said, “It had sky blue eyes. Under any other circumstances, it would have seemed perfectly harmless.”

  Hemsdell growled. “Fortune, I do not have time for this.”

  “It was in a silver teapot of all things,” Fortune said, “The cat drew blood from all of us and then it jumped back into the teapot.”

  “I really don’t care about any damned cat or teapot,” Hemsdell said, “I want to know about the weapons.”

  “When we entered the room, I noticed the teapot immediately,” Fortune said, “My heart nearly froze at the sight of it. Anta Vin had recognized it, too. She was there at the ceremony. The teapot sat in the middle of the room. There wasn’t a speck of dust on it. It was like it had been set there moments before we entered. That’s how we knew for sure that this was the work of Queen Amaya. For some reason she had left all of this behind.”

  “The defenses, old man, tell me about the defenses,” Hemsdell said.

  Fortune couldn’t help but smile. “It is you who will need the defenses General,” he said, “When we went to touch the cases a blue light flashed and we were hurled from the room. Nothing we did allowed us to get through. Anta Vin and I became convinced that only Amaya or only one of her blood could touch the weapons.”

  Hemsdell pulled the blade away. He bent closer. His breath smelled like rotting meat.

  “Why did you think that?” Hemsdell said quietly.

  Fortune shook his head. Why was he asking again? They had already been over this many times.

  “I told you. The teapot. That damned teapot. Amaya must have left it there as a joke. Or to mock us.”

  “No, she didn’t do it to mock you,” Hemsdell said, “You know better than that.”

  Fortune turned his head. Of course he did.

  “She was daring you to break the treaty,” Hemsdell said, “All you had to do was take your sword and smash it. But you lacked the courage. The teapot was the icon of the treaty. That was Amaya’s joke. A symbol of civility. Forced civility in our case.”

  Fortune didn’t say anything. Over the decades he had thought a lot about those days. Once the leaders of their world had been forced to accept the treaty, Amaya retreated to parts unknown. It was years before everyone realized she was gone. Many thought she was lying in wait for the treaty to be broken so she could punish the world again.

  Hurdroth and Hemsdell had proven that wrong. At least so far.

  “Now think old man,” Hemsdell said, “What else did you see in the room? Were there any other doors?”

  Fortune closed his eyes and tried to see it in his mind. “Yes, there was another door on the wall opposite. It was made of metal also. But it had no handle or knob to open it.”

  “Did you approach it? Did you try to open it?”

  Fortune frowned. Which gave him a tweak of pain where Hemsdell’s blade had cut him.

  “Of course we tried to open the damned door,” he said, “We wanted the secrets of Queen Amaya as much as you do now. The door wouldn’t open. We hammered at it, we pried at it with our blades. Nothing moved it.”

  Fortune pulled back and grinned. “I doubt you wanted Amaya’s weapons a
s much as I do. Otherwise you would have had them by now. As I will soon. You had the key in front of you, but you didn’t know how to use it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Fortune asked. He coughed. The smoke seemed to be getting thicker.

  “The teapot. Amaya’s treaty. Did you try to pick it up?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  Hemsdell pulled way. Behind him Fortune could see soldiers scurrying around, grabbing their gear, putting it on in a rush, shouting to each other.

  “What do you mean, nothing?” Hemsdell said.

  “I mean nothing. We couldn’t touch it,” Fortune said, “Every time we tried our hands would just slide away from it. We weren’t thrown across the room like with the containers. But none-the-less, we were unable to put our hands on it.”

  A soldier ran up to Hemsdell. “General! We have to move!”

  Hemsdell turned on him, a savage look on his face. “What are you talking about?

  The soldier pointed. “The forest. The forest is burning!”

  Hemsdell grabbed Fortune’s arm and dragged him to the small clearing. Now that he was away from the trunk, Fortune could see the flames dancing in the distance. The fire licked up the trunks of the great trees, and the canopy was ablaze.

  “Hurdroth,” Hemsdell said, “The damned fool is trying to burn us out.” He pulled Fortune close. “How close are we to the crypt?”

  Fortune shook his head. If they went to the vessel now it would be their crypt for certain.

  Hemsdell raised his armored hand and slapped Fortune across the face. Fortune’s vision went black for a moment and his head rang.

  “Speak old man! How far is it!”

  “Just a few miles,” Fortune said, “Follow the creek until the stones turn red, then go west.”

  Hemsdell pushed Fortune at the soldier standing by them. “Put him on a horse.”

  Fortune watched the General stride off into the swirling smoke, shouting orders. Tremors ran through him as the soldier pulled him over to the horses.