The Broken Reign

by Jeremy Michelson

  Gram’s red lips curled up. “Right to the point, eh Joshie?”

  He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Stop calling me Joshie. My name’s Joshua.”

  “Good luck with that,” Grams said. She turned her night eyes toward the blackened plain. “I brought you here so you could save me, Joshie”

  “What?” He looked her up and down. “You’re looking pretty healthy. Especially considering the last time I saw you back home.”

  Grams shook her head. “Sure, now I’m great. Or I will be.” she chuckled again.

  Joshua rubbed his face. “Why do I have the feeling you’re enjoying a big joke at my expense, Grams?”

  She shrugged her armored shoulders. “Maybe a small one,” she said, “But the bigger joke is on me.”

  “I don’t get it,” he said.

  "You're correct that we're still on Seivar," Grams said, "But maybe a better question would be when?"

  “Perhaps ten years after the destruction of Aytahan,” Kojanza said.

  Grams clapped her hands together. They rang like plate steel falling down a metal stairway. Joshua and Kojanza clapped their hands to their ears.

  "I told you that girl was a keeper, Joshie," she said, "You are indeed correct. You're about forty years from where we last were."

  Joshua sighed. “And I assume there’s a reason for this?”

  “Like I said, I need you to save me.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that, grandmother?” he asked, “You’re the one with the god-like powers and all. Technologically advanced as those powers may be.”

  “Don’t you believe in magic, Joshie?” Grams asked.

  “Not in that kind. And stop calling me Joshie, damnit.”

  The horse whinnied and farted again.

  “Not you, Damnit,” Joshua said. He put his hands to his head. He was getting a headache. Stop the world, I want to get off!

  Grams looked away, off to the distant mountains. Or maybe to the plain. It was hard to tell with those spooky eyes. Her hair was blowing dramatically in the breeze, too. Did the old lady have a wind machine somewhere nearby?

  “Us being here is a the end of a long, complicated chain of events,” Grams said, “I was never sure it would work. Wasn’t even sure I wanted it too. I thought I had left this place forever. It was fun being queen for a while, but it gets kind of old. I was getting old.”

  "Does this have a point, Grams?" he asked, "Because otherwise, we want to go home."

  Grams turned her night-filled eyes to him. "And where is Kojanza's home? Do you think she'd fit in well in the ‘burbs? What would happen the first time someone you took her through the drive-through at your favorite espresso stand and they gave you a caramel macchiato instead of your mocha latte?"

  He tried to picture it. Kojanza would probably run the barista through with her sword. He couldn't see coming home after a hard day staring at a computer screen and having her have dinner waiting on the table for him, either.

  And he didn’t want it.

  He sighed. Again. And rubbed his face. Again.

  “Ok Grams, point taken. So what is your plan?”

  She smiled. "You get to live a life. Learn a few things. Have some kids. Learn a few more things. Eventually, you'll die. But it'll be a good life."

  He blinked. His head was starting to hurt. “Perhaps, grandmother, you could throw a few more specifics my way?”

  "Joshie, the person I am now is not the same person who tumbled through that portal with you thirty-nine years ahead," Grams said, "Truth be told, I'm not even sure I qualify as human anymore.

  “That old woman you tried to save was tired and had given up, more or less. I thought I was done with the portals and this world. All of that was in my past. I didn’t want to come back.”

  “Why?” Joshua asked, “It seems like you had a pretty good setup here.”

  Grams shook her head. “I did. Too good. I realized I took all the fun out of this world when I made the fighting stop. It was boring. And I hate boring.”

  “You like fighting and killing?”

  “Don’t judge me, Joshie. Everyone needs a hobby.”

  He took a half step back. He glanced at Kojanza. Her eyes were locked on Grams, a rapturous look on her face. He realized his beloved barbarian warrior woman worshipped the fierce warrior goddess that his Grams had become. He had no doubt Kojanza would do anything Grams asked of her. With enthusiasm.

  “But I couldn’t let the wars continue,” Grams said, “It wasn’t right to let people keep killing each other just so I could have fun.”

  “Fun?” His blood ran cold. He wanted to back up another step, but he’d roll down the hill if he did.

  The corner of Gram’s mouth quirked up. “Yes. Fun,” she said, “So I made the fighting stop, locked up the worst of the toys. And then I left. I hoped the treaty would hold and I could just pass into obscurity.”

  She turned away, looking off to the blackened plain. “I’ve done terrible things, Joshie. Terrible, terrible things. I can’t go back and undo those things. Not without creating an entirely new timeline.”

  “Wait, did you deliberately bring me here? I mean the first time?” he asked.

  "No, that was an accident. I think. Or maybe it wasn't. It's funny how the universe works, isn't it?"

  “Not really,” he said. He looked off into distance. The jagged mountains across the plain looked peaceful and threatening at the same time. Sweat was running under his armor now. He unlaced the sides and pulled it off. Threw it on the ground.

  “I’m no warrior, Grams,” he said, “Kojanza and her dad tried to teach me, but most of it didn’t stick very well. So if you’re needing me to fight, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  “There’s different kinds of fighting, and you’ll do fine on this, Joshie,” Grams said.

  He pulled off another piece of armor and threw it as hard as he could. It arched out toward the gorge, falling short.

  “Are you going to tell what I’m supposed to do, or are you going to beat around the bush forever?” he asked.

  Grams smiled. “Okay, here’s the plan.”

  Ninety-Four

  Vazsa

  Cuore del Sangre landed at what Lou called the Albuquerque Spaceport. To Vazsa, it looked like a series of giant flat circles set into a desert. Lou and everyone seemed joyously excited about it though.

  “Albuquerque, we have landed and are powering down,” Captain Kelsey said.

  “Acknowledged, Captain,” a voice said from the ship’s far talker said, “The military are on their way. Better get yourself into the containment truck and get ready to spread those cheeks for the probing of your life.”

  She turned to Lou. “What does that man mean?”

  Lou shook his head, laughing. “Don’t worry about it, he’s just kidding,” he said, “At least, I hope he is.”

  “Fuck the containment truck,” Pete said, “I’m going to go kiss the ground. Good old terra firma, here I come.”

  He stood up. The Captain held up his hand.

  “Hold on Pete,” he said, “Let’s get our story straight first.”

  “Does it really matter, Cap?” Tony asked, “No one is going to believe us anyway.”

  The Captain shook his head. “After being gone for thirteen years we brought home a highly advanced craft of unknown origin. The military is going to be all over us wanting to know where we’ve been and where they can get more of these ships.”

  “No,” Dr. Fran said, “The first thing they’re going to want to know is where the invasion is coming from. I know how those boys work. They’re paranoid as hell, and they’re going to lock us up until they get answers that satisfy them.” She turned to Lou and Vazsa. “And they’re going to be real interested in your girlfriend there, Lou.”

  Vazsa's heart sped up. Lou avoided her eyes. He frowned at Dr. Fran. "Don't scare her. They can't do anything."

  “They can do whatever they want,” Dr. Fran said, “And they will.
National Security and all that.”

  The crew went quiet. Vazsa’s heart was pounding now. Had she left her world only to get into something even worse?

  The Captain stood up. “No going back now,” he said, “Might as well face it and hope for the best.”

  “Wait just a sec, Cap,” Tony said.

  He pulled a device from his pocket. It looked like one of the far talkers. He fiddled with it for a few moments.

  “Dang it, can’t get a signal,” he said. He looked up at the ceiling. “Hey, ship, can you let the signal through for my phone?”

  “Which band do you wish?” the ship asked in its smooth tones.

  “Any band in the 700mhz range.”

  “Bands are available now.”

  Tony fiddled with his device for a moment, then grinned. “All right, now we’re in business.” He held the device up and panned it around the room.

  “What are you doing Tony?” the Captain asked.

  “I’m contacting my old buddy with World News Corp,” Tony said, “We’re about to become famous.”

  Ninety-Five

  Vazsa

  A wave of heat hit Vazsa as she stepped out of the ship. The air seemed to suck the moisture from her skin, it was so dry. People stood in a broad circle around the ship. They were dressed in strange clothing. Some of it was similar to what the crew wore–though in much better shape. Others were men in some kind of armor, holding weapons similar to the plasma rifles from the Seattle.

  A man broke away from the crowd and strode toward them. He was blocky with short cut gray hair. He did not look happy.

  He stopped in front of them, hands on his hips. He wore severe looking blue clothes that had strange symbols on the chest and shoulders. Vazsa guessed they were symbols of military rank.

  The man looked them all up and down in turn before stopping at the Captain.

  “Well, Captain Kelsey,” he said, his voice low and rough, “You have certainly stirred the pot on this one haven’t you?”

  The Captain stood ramrod straight, staring straight ahead over the man’s shoulder.

  “Apologies General,” the Captain said, “The crew and I were looking forward to some R&R after our trip.”

  The General’s jaw worked like he was chewing something bitter. “R&R? Really?”

  Dr. Fran spoke up. “Just trying to save ourselves an ass pounding from certain branches of government.”

  The General turned a narrowed eye toward her. “Oh, you’ll get your ass pounding all right. But thanks to your blabber lips, it’s going to be delayed just a bit.”

  Vazsa saw the doctor smile. For some reason, the smile relieved her. It seemed a good sign if the doctor wasn't worried.

  The General looked up at the black ship looming up behind them.

  “That’s not the ship we sent you out in, Captain,” he said.

  “Sorry, sir,” the Captain said, “The Seattle got knocked out of commission. It’s a long story.”

  The Captain stood still as the General put himself nose to nose with him. “I am dying to hear every word of it, Captain.”

  The muscles in the Captain’s throat twitched. “We did bring you back a different ship,” he said, “It’s actually a very nice one.”

  The General raised one eyebrow. "It damned well better be."

  Something clanked behind her. Vazsa whipped her head around in time to see the door close on the ship.

  “What the–” the General started to say.

  A blast of heat hit them and the black ship thrummed and started to lift off the ground.

  Lou grabbed her. “Get down!”

  She flattened herself to the hot ground. The sound of weapons fire raged above her for a few moments. She could hear the General shouting profanities.

  A glance up showed her the rising ship. It hovered for a moment, then streaked into the pale blue sky. Then it was gone.

  She looked at Lou. He grinned at her.

  “Now you’re stuck with me,” he said.

  She laughed and pulled him into a kiss.

  Ninety-Six

  The Red Witch

  The Red Witch woke to the smell of smoke and wet dog. She sat up, a thick fur cover sliding over her bare skin. she was on a woven mat on the ground. A small fire flickered a few feet away. Her eyes darted over the space she was in. It appeared to be a large tent. A pile of weapons stood against one wall. Swords, axes, bows. Tools of war piled haphazardly.

  Near the pile of weapons an old man was sleeping. He lay on a straw mat on the bare ground, a fur cloak pulled up to his shoulders. He snored softly. He looked familiar.

  She remembered. Lord Fortune. He had tried to stop her from entering the ship.

  A wave of memories washed over her. The ship. Traveling high above the world. Leaving the ship and falling.

  How am I still alive?

  “Are you–Rowlf–hungry?”

  She twisted around, moving away from the voice.

  A man stepped out of the shadow cast by the support pole. His head was misshapen and furry. He looked like the unholy union of a dog and a human. He crouched beside her and offered her a steaming bowl.

  “It’s okay,” he said, “I won’t hurt you. You’re safe. No one will hurt you.”

  She didn’t take the bowl. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Yord. Brother of Lord Fortune, and–” he looked away and coughed into his hand, “Apparently I am now King of all the land.”

  Her heart fell. So she had failed then. But how did she end up here? She saw no way she could have survived the fall, the explosion. She covered her face with her hands.

  “Then Queen Amaya did not return,” she said.

  Yord laughed softly. A strange, half barking sound.

  “She returned,” he said, “She returned in a most dramatic fashion. Something that I’m guessing you’re at least partially responsible for.”

  The Red Witch sat up straighter, looking around again. “Where is she? I wish to speak to her?” She turned to face the dog man. “And why are you calling yourself King? Are you mad?”

  Yord shook his head, his floppy dog ears flapping. “No, I’m not crazy. Queen Amaya has proclaimed me to be King. I don’t know why.”

  “Where is she?”

  Yord shrugged. "I don't know. After she killed Hemsdell and Hurdroth and made me king, she left in a whirlpool of light with the red-haired man and his woman."

  Her breath caught in her throat. “They’re alive? Joshua and Kojanza are alive?”

  “I don’t know their names, but the man with red hair and the pale haired woman were living when last I saw them,” he said.

  The Red Witch sighed and lay back down. “They live. The Queen has returned,” she said, “Everything will happen then.”

  Yord gave her a strange look. Was he wondering if she was the mad one?

  She felt a lightness in her heart. Perhaps for the first time in her life she allowed herself to feel happiness. No longer was the weight of future sitting on her shoulders. She could...

  Her happiness fled as quickly as it had arrived.

  “Now what is to become of me?” she said, “My duty has been fulfilled. Did the Queen say anything to you about what I should do?”

  Yord smiled. It was strange to see his lips curve up under his flattened doggie snout.

  "Amaya said to take good care of you," he said, "And that she would be back for you. Eventually."

  “She did? When?”

  Yord shrugged. “Who knows. Amaya will do what she does, when she does it. She was never in the habit of explaining herself to mere mortals.”

  He handed her the bowl of soup. This time she took it. It smelled of vegetables and rabbit. Her stomach growled.

  “But while you are waiting for her to return, whenever that may be, you are welcome to live with us,” he said, “The blood of Amaya shall always be welcome in my home.”

  She sat up and sipped at the soup. She let herself feel pleasure as it slid down her throat, warm
ing her insides. Things were going to be different now. She did not have to hide anymore. She would have to find a new purpose.

  Yord stood, shaking himself like a dog. She couldn’t help herself. She laughed. Was this Amaya’s joke on the world? To make a dog King of them all?

  Yord grinned at her. “The Queen has a rather wicked sense of humor,” he said, “I found that out when she did this to me.”

  “Queen Amaya did that to you? When she made you king?”

  “No, she did this to me decades ago,” he said, “I was young and foolish and tried to do something stupid.”

  “What?”

  He shook his head. "That's a story for another day." He turned to leave, then paused. "Do you have a name? It's going to be awkward going around calling you the red-haired girl."

  She opened her mouth to speak then stopped. The Red Witch was as much a part of her past as The Gray Witch. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, Yord was still looking expectantly at her.

  “Saven,” she said, “My name is Saven.”

  Ninety-Seven

  Joshua

  Joshua held the squalling newborn in his arms. Naked and wrinkled and red all over, her tiny arms and legs beat the air. He walked across the room to stand by the big stone fireplace he had built. The fired roared within it, warming them both.

  Kojanza lay on the bed, exhausted, but alert. It had been a relatively easy birth, but still scary for him. As the baby crowned and Kojanaza screamed, he wished for a hospital and doctors and nurses to take care of all this. But he was getting used to it. This was his second one, after all.

  His first daughter toddled over to him. “Be-be?” she asked.

  “Yes, baby,” he said.

  He sat down so she could see her new sister. She pointed to the baby’s hair.

  “Red?”

  “Yes, she has red hair.”

  The toddler pulled at her own pale blonde hair. She looked at it carefully, then gave him a solemn look. She didn’t have the words to express it, but he knew she was saying her sister was different than her. Than mommy and daddy.