Hammer of Time (The Reforged Trilogy) (28 page)

"Yeah," answered Panna. She held up her com. "Duke Ferris has asked to talk to you about the Bherrosi trip. Sir Anthem has three new potentials that you need to approve."

"Can I not do that with a call? Do I truly need to return to Kaellisem?"

Panna cocked her head and frowned. "Sir Anthem's knights are the only sort of security or policing force in Kaellisem," she pointed out. "Do you really want to approve new knights without even meeting them?"

"No," Maeve sighed. "I suppose not."

Vyron made a sympathetic click with his tongue and looked at Logan. "What about you? I'm sure Panna could drive Maeve back into the glass city."

"No." Logan wasn't looking at Vyron as he gave his flat answer. "I'm working."

"…All right, then," Vyron said. He glanced at Panna, who shook her head.

"Thanks," she said far more graciously than the Prian hunter had. "Working, too."

Vyron said goodbye and went back to his family. Logan threw the car into gear and pulled back out into the street. Maeve swallowed. Everyone remained uncomfortably silent as Gharib streaked past outside the windows.

Logan could have accepted Vyron's invitation, Maeve knew. The bloated sun was sinking swiftly, appearing to flatten like a rotting piece of fruit against the horizon. The training of Kaellisem's knight force was a largely outdoor business and took place during the daylight hours. Once night fell, Anthem was free to take up his more personal responsibilities with his queen.

In theory, Logan had plenty of time to spend with Vyron's family. Did he have some other plans? A date, perhaps? Bitter jealousy churned in Maeve's stomach. She had no right to be possessive. But knowing that did nothing to banish the sick sensation.

The blocky concrete and sandstone of Gharib ended suddenly, giving way to rolling red desert. The sand, in turn, became the sunset-colored spires of Kaellisem. The glass sparkled and seemed to dance in the fading sunlight like flames. Maeve forgot about her cramped wings and even about Logan's evening plans as they drove between the delicate crystal towers. Faces appeared in windows and doors, all framed by yellow hair and white wings. Not many vehicles came through Kaellisem. There were the trucks that picked up shipments of glass and the occasional curious visitor, but the NI-muffled hum of an engine usually meant royal business.

Panna touched the window control and the tinted glass slid down. Hot, dry air puffed into the car, full of fine dust and music. The Arcadians were singing a high, clear song as the car glided past. Maeve couldn't make out the words, not over the rush of wind and the sound of the engine, but goosebumps rose between her wings.

Panna was staring out, biting her lip and managing to smile at the same time. She hummed along with Kaellisem as the small city welcomed their queen home. The song rang from the glass towers, making the desert air vibrate with a palpable energy. Praise, thanks, purpose… The rising harmonies spiraled around one another like a flock of birds soaring in perfect, natural formation.

"I have not heard this song before," Maeve said in a choked voice.

"It's been spreading around town for the last few days," Panna told her. "I don't know who first wrote it, but it's very popular."

Maeve slid her window down, too, and listened. Logan slowed the car until it was barely moving and nearly silent.
"Lua en shae sammai,"
Kaellisem sang.
"Ae na pa'eru illanae mae. Lua ossinae shae ra."

Maeve blinked. "
Mae
and
ra
?" she asked.

Panna shrugged. "It's a bit of an awkward rhyme and I'm not sure about the
from bones
part, but it's beautiful."

"Yes," Maeve agreed. She leaned against the window frame and let her hair fan out in the cooling air. In spite of the Arcadian words, the melody reminded her much more of Logan singing to Baliend. "It is."

Logan stopped the car in front of Maeve's gold glass tower and held the door for her again. The hunter remained silent as Panna bade them a smiling farewell and hurried off into the evening. "I'll call Duke Ferris and Sir Anthem to let them know you're back," Panna called over her shoulder. Maeve nodded and thanked the girl.

Logan followed Maeve up into the tower. She stopped in the kitchen – a small room with a few basic appliances with which Dain always managed to work miracles, but Maeve was far less skilled – and found a couple of mycolar envelopes of condensed poultry. She tossed one to Logan. He caught it deftly in his right hand.

They went out to one of the many balconies that extended from the tower's curving walls. The underside was fluted like a seashell and rippled with captured twilight. Maeve stood, flexing her wings and tore the top from the packaged chicken with her teeth. She squeezed the pale yellow protein and vitamins into her mouth. The wonders of coreworld food… She did not even have to chew.

The cooling air against the daylight-heated sands of the desert made the wind gust unpredictably. It tugged Maeve's filmy crimson dress around her ankles and rustled her feathers. The wind caught her emptied dinner envelope and tugged it away. The shiny mycolar flashed once and then vanished into the evening.

"I think I was supposed to heat that," Maeve said. She ran her tongue over her teeth. The slightly grainy protein stuck stubbornly to her teeth.

Logan said nothing. He still held the other poultry pack in his hand. "Still hungry?" he asked.

"A little," Maeve admitted.

Logan went inside and heated the ground chicken in the microwave. He poured it into a bowl with some pepper and then returned with a spoon before handing it to Maeve. She took a tentative bite. The sludge still did not taste good, but it was better than the cold gluey paste had been.

"Thank you," Maeve said as she finished. "I did not realize that I was so hungry."

Logan took the dishes away and returned with a glass of water. Maeve drank thirstily. There must have been a lot of salt in the food. Something about sodium being a necessary component in a healthy nervous system… Another piece of interesting but ultimately unhelpful information from Xia. Maeve rubbed her eyes. The makeup Duaal and Verra had painted on that morning smudged across her fingers and Maeve frowned at the streaks of gold and bronze.

Logan was watching her closely. What must she look like in those ice-blue eyes? A traitor? One with wind-tousled hair and ruined makeup, no less… But his expression was as unreadable as it ever had been during the year he hunted her across the galactic core.

Maeve squeezed her eyes shut against a sudden flurry of hot wind that blew her already disarrayed hair into her face. She felt smooth coolness against her raw red cheek, brushing cold and careful across her skin. Maeve opened her eyes to find Logan pushing back her tangled black hair with his cybernetic left hand. The metal felt good in the late Stray heat. Maeve leaned her face into his touch and put her hands over his. The illonium was hard, unyielding under her fingertips.

"A'shae–" gasped a voice from the door behind them.

Maeve jumped guiltily. Duke Ferris stared at them, scowling. Logan's hand dropped to his side once more.

Ferris schooled his expression into something less disapproving and cleared his throat. "Where are your handmaidens, my queen?" he asked. "It is not seemly that you should be unattended."

"I was not unattended," Maeve said, hating the tight, defensive note in her voice. "Logan was–"

The old duke shot Logan such a look of venom that Maeve could not finish the sentence.

"I suspect the girls are upstairs somewhere, tending to something," she said instead. "We… I did not announce my arrival."

"I shall have to speak to them about being more attentive," Ferris seemed to say to himself, inviting no answer from his audience. "Your consort, Sir Anthem, awaits you with his knights in the south field."

"Yes," Maeve answered quickly. "I will go at once."

"I will fly with you, a'shae." Ferris managed to look imperiously up at the much larger Logan Coldhand. "You are no longer needed tonight."

The Prian nodded once and turned to leave. He had not said a word since Ferris' abrupt arrival. Maeve reached toward Logan, but caught the duke watching and stopped.

Instead, on Ferris' suggestion, she flew up the tower and asked her handmaidens to fix her hair and makeup. The two girls efficiently did as she asked, faltering only when Duke Ferris chastened them for leaving the queen alone. Verra nodded as she wove ribbons into Maeve's hair while the younger Dain barely held back tears and withdrew downstairs to take care of the dishes.

"Please tell Dain not to worry," Maeve told Verra as the girl finished painting her lips. "No harm was done."

"Yes, Your Highness," Verra answered at once. "But it will not happen again."

"See that it does not," Ferris said. Verra dipped her wings and withdrew. The old duke smiled tightly at Maeve's reflection and nodded. "We are late already. We should fly swiftly."

Maeve went to the wide window, spread her wings and leapt into the sky. It was a short flight to the south field, a half-acre expanse of sand and stone pounded more or less flat. There were several large glass rings rising above the desert floor on stout stems. Several white-winged men and women flew a tightly curving race that wound through them. In the fading light, one of the flying fairies nearly ran into the translucent crystal. He folded his wings at the last moment and plummeted, landing with a loud thump on the ground. The Arcadian glared up at the ring, then caught sight of Maeve and Duke Ferris. He raised his closed fist and she recognized Ballad's close-cropped hair. She waved.

In the center of the field, Anthem stood with wings raised over his head like blades and holding a long, slender spear that streamed with brightly colored ribbons. His glass armor glittered like an exotic gemstone. Anthem raised his spear and called the other Arcadians to him. Ballad and the rest – twenty-four in total – landed and arranged themselves into two neat lines. Unlike their commander, these younger knights did not yet wear their glass armor and their spear blades were wrapped protectively in scarves.

The knight-trainees knelt as Maeve and Duke Ferris landed, lowering their heads. Anthem strode down the line and kissed the queen's hand. "A'shae," he said. "Welcome. We are honored by your presence."

"You asked me to come," Maeve pointed out.

Somehow, despite a day of training, Anthem's hair remained in a neat braid that fell in a tawny line down between his long wings. Maeve was suddenly very embarrassed by the intricate, colorful coils of her own hair. What sort of knight wore her hair like that? But Maeve had not put on her armor since the coronation or even held her spear in days.

"And I am late," she added.

"I did ask," Anthem agreed. He smiled at Maeve and spread his arms. "But you are my lady and queen of the White Kingdom. The tides would wait for you."

"There are no oceans on Stray," said Maeve.

The nearest knight laughed. He was older than Maeve and a little taller, with eyes almost the same tawny yellow as his hair. He flushed and swept his wing across his chest in a salute again to cover his embarrassment. "I am sorry, Your Majesty," he mumbled.

"It would have been funnier if it weren't true," said Ballad from further down the line. The Prian fairy boy had put aside his sliced leather jacket, but still dressed in the worn blue-gray denims he favored rather than the lighter, flowing fabrics of traditional Arcadian dress. "This ball's as dry as a taxman's eyes at collections time."

The golden-eyed knight and several of the others stifled laughter. Anthem shook his wings, silencing them. "Respect the queen," he told them. "Without her, none of you would be here. It was her decree to train new knights."

"It is all right," Maeve assured him, embarrassed. "We need more laughter in Kaellisem. It has been a long and hard century."

Anthem's expression softened a bit and he lowered his feathered wings. "As you say, a'shae. Please, let me introduce our newest."

He gestured to a pair of nearby young women, closer to Ballad's age than Maeve or Ferris'. Both were slender and small, still showing the ravages of long malnutrition. Their skin was slicked with sweat and trembling from the day's training, but they stood up proudly straight when Anthem introduced them. "Cyrene and Eranna. Both from Farnum, here on Stray."

The two girls saluted Maeve, who returned the gesture. It was not, strictly speaking, traditional or proper – Maeve could feel Ferris' eyes on her – but she had been through the knighthood training and knew what Eranna and Cyrene had volunteered for.

Anthem turned then to the older prospective knight, the one with the wolf-yellow eyes who had laughed at her comment. The knight fell at once to one knee.

"And this is Syle," Anthem introduced him. "He just arrived from Axis last week."

"Thank you for your service, Syle," Maeve said, wishing that the other Arcadians would stop kneeling.

Syle rose slowly to his feet and fixed intent gold eyes on Maeve. "It is my greatest honor to serve the queen," he said. "I will do anything required of me."

"It's not about beauty. What's important is the inspiration behind the beauty."