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Authors: J. Aislynn d' Merricksson

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BOOK: Empress of Wolves
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Kasai helped the War Mage to his feet, while nearby Lukas did the same for Manny. Aleister, now very much recovered, but silent and withdrawn, scooped up the limp form of his
liya
and cradled her to his chest. He followed behind Vander numbly, paying no attention to anything other than the comatose mage in his arms, and the form of Vander before him.

Aleister cringed inwardly, terrified of how close he'd come to losing her. It had been an odd sensation, the loosening of his own spirit from his body in the face of no physical injury. The Fox now better understood Kalla's dislike of the chains a magisterial bond placed on the magister.

They finally arrived at the room and Aleister started to kneel and lay Kalla upon her pallet, but Vander stopped him. The Fox came out of his reverie and looked into the War Mage's weary face. The mage gently touched him with one hand and Kalla with the other, using magick to scour the blood from their clothes. He waited until Aleister had settled down beside Kalla, curled protectively around her, then touched the Fox again, putting him to sleep also. With a sigh, Vander shifted and curled in a ball next to the sleeping pair. He hadn't bothered setting shields. What would be the point, if the Guard could break them?

It was odd, he mused, that he should be the one taking care of Kalla, so often had their roles been reversed. It had been a terrible shock, when she had been injured. He'd honestly thought nothing could ever hurt her. She was Amaraaq after all. She was the Empress of Wolves.

* * *

The Fleet Admiral had summoned Ventaal from the
Kujata
, still in port. She sought answers, first and foremost how it had come to pass that these magi had entered Argoth in the first place. A part of her was relieved in a way. She had never trusted the Rang'moori mage. Less so after he'd encouraged Sykes to replace Sir Lukas with James. The young Guard had already seemed very much the mage's man. Nor had she been pleased at Grosso's urging to put the Empire's military might to use and conquer Evalyce. It had only been the Fleet Admiral's own stubbornness that had held that plan at bay, hers and the
se'tovs
'. It would take much for either them or her to go against the Emperor's direct order, but that he'd not yet given, Holly be thanked.

Sykes was doing well, so said the Clerics. He'd come 'round briefly, before falling back asleep. The Magi had retreated to their room to recover, guarded by two of the Magisters. She wondered at their motivation. The female had destroyed the Emperor's ring, the one Grosso had given him, and in doing so had somehow injured Sykes. Yet they had healed him, in the end and the Admiral thought that must have been their plan all along. She wondered how they had known what would happen and wondered why Grosso had come and stolen Sir James' body away. Surely the Praetor was dead, with a great hole ripped through his chest. She'd seen the work it had taken to heal the wounded Mage.

Until Sykes recovered, the Fleet Admiral was at the helm of the Empire. She had appointed another of the Guard, Lukas' second, temporarily in charge of the Guard. If the Admiral had her way, it would be Sir Marcus who took up the mantle of Praetor permanently, as it should have been before. In addition, she had summoned Masters Parda and Elius from their stronghold in Telemachis. Their guidance would be well appreciated.

She was puzzled, too, over the enigma of the male Dashmari. She knew enough of Dashmari culture to know that he should not have survived long enough to become a Kanlon candidate. She didn't understand that, how a people could kill their children born differently. Even stranger was the man that must serve as his magister, for he wore the clothing of the Harriers. Stranger still was
how
the group had come to possess an Argosian ship. She had since learned that it was the same ship that had come to Argoth several months ago, captained by an Arkaddian magister who served an Argosian mage, one Kalla by name. Two Arkaddians, yet the only female was Dashmari, not Argosian. Too many puzzles, not enough answers.

A soft knock at the door roused her from her musings and Owyn entered, with Ventaal behind him. The Castellan bowed to her and departed, leaving the
Kujata's
Admiral to face his superior.

“Fleet Admiral,” he said with a bow of his own. The Admiral was wary and worried about the Emperor, and about Kalla as well, for the mage wasn't with Admiral Ryansdottr. He had been given no information when summoned to the Palace other than the Emperor had been injured. He had taken that to mean that Kalla and Vander had been successful.

“Admiral Karlgraffsson,
what
is going on here? It was your ship that brought these people here. And it was your ship that requested permission for the same strike-fighter to come to Argoth several months ago. A ship accompanied by a red wyvern. To all outward appearances one might think you were a traitor, Admiral, aiding assassins.”

“Yes, it is the same ship. Yet I spoke honestly. You do have the Dashmari ruler here and they
do
wish nothing more than friendly relations with Argoth.”

“What I have here are three magi, a wounded Emperor and a dead Praetor. One whose body was stolen by yet another Mage.”

“Sir James is dead?” Ventaal asked.

“I can only assume he is dead. He took a bullet to the chest at close range. Grosso stole his body away and disappeared. None of the Guard have been able to find hide nor hair of him. For that, at least, I am grateful. Now maybe the Emperor will listen to reason. But that is beside the point, Admiral Karlgraffsson.”

“No, I spoke truly. The Empress of Wolves sought to free Emperor Sykes from Grosso's influence. They disguised themselves as what Grosso expected to see, else he would have kept them from getting close to the Emperor.”


Empress?
The only female Dashmari is a mage. Magi cannot rule a country. It is forbidden.”

“It is also forbidden for magi to influence politics, yet we have tolerated the Rang'moori here for how long? Her story is not mine to tell. All I can say is that she challenged Emperor Kartoff in a bid to free the Dashmari and prevented them from attacking the Crannogmarch and Kymru. Grosso is bent on causing war on Evalyce, and to that end he had corrupted the Dashmari and even the Khan Arkaddia. Kalla freed both from his influence and now she has done the same for the Lord of Leaves. Grosso is a pawn of Al'dhumarna, an agent of chaos.”

“Then why have the Harpers brought us no word from the Kanlon, warning us of this rogue mage?” the Fleet Admiral asked.

“I cannot say, Admiral Ryansdottr. Perhaps they have been intercepted. There has been rumors of Harpers disappearing of late.” He paused for a moment. “Fleet Admiral, if you truly believe that I would willingly betray the Emperor then please, have me taken to the Golden Court. I do not regret the choices I have made, in playing along with Kalla's deception.

Tabitha sighed. “No, Ventaal. I will keep you here and let the Emperor make that choice when he wakes. I will have the Castellan escort you to quarters.”

“As you wish, Fleet Admiral. But first, can you tell me how fares the Emperor? And Lady Kalla?”

“The Emperor sleeps. The Clerics say that he is doing fine. The magi sleep also. Lady Kalla was injured, grievously, shot by the Praetor. She would have died, if not for the red-haired one. I know not by which names to call them now.”

Ventaal sank into a chair at this news, his features struck by a sudden sadness. “How? How could the bullets have harmed her?”

“Grosso gave the Guard bullets that could penetrate magickally crafted shields, much to the displeasure of the Technomancers. It backfired on him, though, when he came to collect Sir James' body. The Harrier and Lukas used the rifles against him.

“Sir Lukas is now a magister in his own right, saved by a young Healer named Manny kyl'Malkador. It has come to my understanding that the outpost soldiers had been told not to let him come to the Golden Court. Emperor Kartoff collected him along the way.

“He's a lucky man, Lukas is. I am glad the mage came along when he did. Sir Lukas was doing his job as he saw best, I see that now. He didn't deserve to die for it. It was a good thing, too, that the other Healer was with them, else the red wolf would have had to make a choice- the Emperor or Lady Kalla,” the Fleet Admiral replied.

“Vander. His name is Vander kyl'Solidor. His magister's name is Kasai, once of the Khan's Harriers. Her magister is Aleister Balfear, also called the Sky Fox.”

The Fleet Admiral nodded. “I will call Owyn now. I'll let you know as soon as any of them are awake, Emperor and magi alike.”

King Holly
Evergreen Palace, Imperia Argosia, Argoth, Year of the Mythril Serpent, 2014 CE

Kalla groaned, stirring awake. Soreness assailed her, mostly in her chest. The smell of thriving, growing greenery tickled her nose and trees cloaked in silvered moonlight greeted her when she opened her eyes.

The Healer swayed as she stood, dizzy and disoriented. Scraps of memory came fluttering back. She had destroyed the Emperor's ring as planned, but she had been injured before she could work on Sykes.

The Praetor had shot her, bullets ripping through the shields, collapsing them. From the tatters of her memory, Kalla knew Vander had healed her. She hoped the Emperor had survived as well.

Kalla blinked muzzily, rubbing grit from her eyes. They widened slightly as she took in her surroundings. Beyond the trees, flickers of blue light winked, here one moment, gone the next. She knew this place. Someone had roused her from much needed sleep, tugging her weary spirit along on yet another journey.

But who would bring her back to the Deep Forest, and why?

Turning a slow circle, the Healer gasped as she found herself face to face with Gasta. The Keeper was cast in opal, frozen in a crouch, muzzle stretched out as if reaching for something. Tears slipped silent down her cheeks as Kalla reached a shaky hand out to stroke the Keeper's cold opal muzzle. The Healer still found it hard to believe Gasta was gone, yet here was proof beyond doubt.

Ice shivered down her spine as she recalled the day the sabre wolves had attacked, forcing her foolish attempt to teleport Aleister and herself all the way to the
Stymphalian
. A soft chuff drew her attention and she looked up, peering into the forest depths. Beyond the trees, the darkness itself seemed to writhe.

An inky form ghosted out of the forest, resolving into a jet black fox the size of a horse, with nine fluffy brushes. The fox trotted through the clearing and came to sit beside Gasta's frozen form. Sly amber eyes full of mischievousness regarded the Healer. The eyes were so like Aleister's in his fox form that Kalla guessed this must be Inari. His father. She dipped her head.

“Greetings, Fox King.”


Greetings, Lady Amaraaq,
” Inari said. “
Please, come with me.
” The fox knelt in clear invitation.

Kalla reached out and twined her fingers in the
kitsune's
ebon fur, pulling herself astride his back. Guessing that she had been pulled into the journey courtesy of Inari, she looked around, expecting that others might be joining her.

“No others, my Lord Inari?” she asked as the fox jogged off into the Forest.


Not this time, Great Lady. I would ask, however, that you bring my son back to me before you depart Argoth. Others of you will have business in the Forest before all is said and done, and I would see him once more, now that he can better appreciate all that he is.

“As you wish, Lord Inari.” She paused a moment. “Tell me, is there any way to free Gasta?”


That task is not yours, Lady Amaraaq,
” Inari said.

Kalla frowned at his words, then hissed in surprise as the energy of an invisible boundary pricked her skin. They entered into another clearing, this one diffused with soft green-tinged light. Royal Pines and Imperial Holly ringed the clearing, overshadowed by immense Sequoia Roi, the tallest trees known on De Sikkari.

Inari stopped in the middle of the clearing and sank down so Kalla could slip from his back. The Fox King sat his haunches beside her and waited expectantly. Neither had long to wait before a figure seemed to step from the largest Imperial Holly to border the clearing.

The figure was tall, well over seven feet. His skin, such as it was, was a mottled greyish-brown, and resembled the bark of the tree from which he had appeared. A mane of hair, darker grey than his skin, had holly leaves and berry clusters interspersed throughout. He wore pants and tunic of a deep, dark green, tiny hollyleaf patterns decorating the edges, and upon his head was a leaf crown cast of mythril. Grey-green eyes glittered with hidden mirth.

This was King Holly, the dominate of the two primary Argosian deities during winter months.


All is One,
” Holly said.

“One is All,” Kalla replied.


As Above.

“So Below.


Thus are All Connected!
” they said together.


Welcome, Empress of Wolves, twice-born of Argoth. Welcome, daughter of the Forest. I thank you, for saving my people from a fool's folly. The Forest Empire is strong and secure. There is no need for war, and that you have stopped.


I would ask from you that which only you can do, Lady Amaraaq. If you would be so kind to free my brother and I,
” King Holly said, his smooth, soft voice floating through her mind.

Kalla nodded. “That I can do, if you will but tell me how.”

More figures glided from the trees. Foxes, some black like Inari, others red with black paws and ears like Aleister, came to cluster at the Fox King's feet. All of them had two or more fluffy brushes, though none as many as the King himself.

Squirrel-like creatures the size of cats, with over-large ears, scurried across the clearing. They were
kodama
, forest spirits, and Kalla marveled to see the shy creatures. Despite all of her trips into the forest she had never see any of the
kodama
. One scrambled up her clothing, to perch precariously upon her arm, and deigned to allow her to pet its silky grey fur. Gems shone from the forest spirits' brows, rubies and emeralds glittering in the soft light. With the
kodama
came the dryads, the spirits of the trees themselves. Some looked male and others female, they were neither, truly, for trees were both male and female and neither.

One of the dryads, a slender female, guardian of a holly, stepped up to Kalla and handed the Healer a set of fox-flutes. She graciously accepted the offering, thanking the beautiful tree spirit, who gave her an enigmatic smile and joined the others at her King's side. Kalla gave King Holly a puzzled look.

“I am sorry, Great One. I do not know how to play the fox-flutes.”

Holly reached out, touching her forehead where the crescent markings were, and in her mind Kalla heard the Song she must play and the manner of its playing.


You know all you need, to play the Song of the Trees. At your request, the High Clerics will grant you access to the Sacred Grove here in Imperia Argosia. When they hear you play, they will remember it.

“I thank you, Great One. I will do as you ask, as soon as I may,” she said softly.


And I thank you, Lady Amaraaq. Sleep now and recover your strength,
” Holly said, as Kalla's grip on the journey realm began to fade.


And remember, bring Prince Kaze back to the Forest!
” Inari's words were the last she heard before things faded altogether.

* * *

Vander blinked, finding himself in the Grove of Gasta. Before him was the frozen form of Gasta himself, muzzle still outstretched where the guardian had touched the foolish young mage on the forehead, forgiving him even as the enchantment took hold. This dream was a familiar one, born of deep guilt. What he had done here had been a terrible crime, worthy of the harshest punishment.

The War Mage sank to his knees with a sob. Of all the memories Kalla had seen, this she did not know. He cringed to think of how she might react if she did. He hugged himself, slumped at the statue's feet, struggling against the tightness in his throat.

Vander wished there was something he could do to free Gasta, to restore the noble Keeper to life. Any price would be worth paying to rectify one of the greatest mistakes he had ever made.


Any price, little wolf?
” a soft voice asked. Vander snapped his head up, focusing on a shadowed figure walking towards him.

The being was tall, a towering giant of a man, yet Vander knew he was no mere man. His skin was pale grey, rough-looking, like tree bark. A mane of hair, dark green in color, had oak leaves and acorns interspersed throughout. He wore pants and tunic of a deep, dark green with tiny oak leaf patterns decorating the edges and upon his head bore a leaf crown cast of shimmering gold. Bright green eyes somberly regarded the kneeling mage. Vander bowed his head to the ground before the being who could be none other than King Oak, the Argosian deity of spring's rebirth.

“Any price, Great One,” the War Mage whispered.


Truly?

“Yes, Great One. I would pay any price to fix this mistake, if there were a way to do so.”


There is a way, little wolf. He is not gone, merely petrified. He can be set free, though you might not like the price.

“How, Great One?” Vander asked.

His heart grew heavier as he listened while King Oak told him what he must do to free Gasta. The price was a harsh one indeed, yet it was one Vander was willing to pay.

“I will do so, Great One,” he said softly.

King Oak gave him a penetrating look, then nodded in satisfaction.


I do believe you will. Sleep now, young one. Remember your commitment when you wake once more.

BOOK: Empress of Wolves
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