Iron Hearted Violet (26 page)

Finally, the man stopped speaking. His mouth lolled open, and his eyes rolled back, insensible. Still, the words continued—not from his voice but from voices inside him. Thousands of voices. Out of the man’s wounds marched legion upon legion of tiny lizards—each with golden scales brighter than any fire, and jeweled eyes flashing mercilessly. When they fell to the ground, the earth around them smoked and singed. They poured from each wound, from the man’s mouth and ears and the sockets where his eyes had been. His skin trembled and bubbled and rumpled as though it was nothing more than a sack. The boy covered his face and dropped to his knees.

The lizards swarmed and jumbled. They dammed up the creek; they crowded the trees; the land burned around them. The sack of skin that once was the Mountain King
fell to the ground in a heap. The lizards stopped reciting the four words. They lifted their faces toward the sky and spoke with one voice.

“
WE ARE THE SERVANTS OF THE IMPRISONED GOD
,” they said.
“DESTROY THE CASTLE. RELEASE THE HEART OF THE NYBBAS.”

Slowly, they moved as one along the path of the creek, reducing it to steam as they passed. And from the mirror left lying on the ground—the sound of laughing.

The boy ran to the camp, screaming that the world was ending. No one believed him.

“Tell me what you know, Cassian,” Violet said from her place in the darkness.

“Let me see you, my child.”

“You already have.” Her voice was sharp. Accusatory. “You refused to know me
then
. Why would you choose to know me
now
?”

“We live,” I said heavily, “in a world of our own choosing, child. We will insist the world is as we say it should be, until the world convinces us otherwise. Before today, I believed that the good King would remain on his throne.
I believed that what was right and what was good would be victorious and that the world we love would remain whole and prosperous and pure.”

“And now?” the child’s voice bristled with annoyance. I winced.

“Now there is nothing that is good.” My voice was a cold, dead thing, and my heart was a stone. “The world we lived in is ending, or over. And there is nothing I can do. All that’s left, Violet, is a story. One great story, which I shall gift to the world. Please sit where I can see you. I thought of this story the day you disappeared, and it has been tickling my mind ever since. And since I shall not, it seems, have the chance to tell it to the whole of the kingdom, then I shall tell it to you, Violet. My beloved. My best audience.”

“Audience?” Violet said incredulously. “The country’s at war. The—” She kicked a small end table, sending the vase atop it smashing to the floor. “The
entire world
’s gone mad, and all you can think of is telling a
story
?”

“It’s all that I know
how
to do, Princess. Those who know how to fight are fighting. I will do the things that I
know
, as I know how to do them.”

“Your stories, old man,” the child nearly spat, “were
nearly my undoing. Tell me what you know about the Nybbas.”

“I know nothing,” I whispered. How, I wondered, could I tell the child that there was no hope? The only thing that had stopped the Nybbas before was the intervention of the gods. But the gods had long ago melted into their respective universes and all but disappeared. What were we but a basement in the multiverse? A forgotten broom closet in a many-roomed mansion. No one cared what happened to us. Or so I thought.

“Liar,” Violet said.

“I know that it cannot be stopped. The Nybbas was kept powerless by lack of knowledge. If no one thought about it, dreamed about it, said its name, it dwindled. Even now. Even as we sit here,
thinking
about that cursed thing, it grows stronger, and it doesn’t matter how many mirrors we smash.”

“So you know everything.”

I shook my head. “Only the broad concept. But the details I never knew. Only the eldest tellers ever know—and they don’t learn until they go at last to the farthest of the Island Nations to the west to greet their last days. The only kings and queens who ever learn of it are the ones
who sit on the Andulan thrones. But the King has gone off, and I fear that he shall never return.”

“My father knows?” Violet gasped. She stepped forward. “My
father
.” I could not see her face, but even the shape of her shadow was a drastic alteration.
What did it do to you, my darling?
I wondered desperately. She took another step. “My father knows, and my mother likely knew, too. Well, of course they—oh dear!” The figure that apparently was Violet wobbled and tumbled backward. I leaped from my seat.

“Violet!” I cried, but when I knelt before her, I gasped. She was…
beautiful
. But not
herself
. And the wrongness of her face, the wrongness that
her
voice could come from
that
body, unnerved me to the core. “Oh, my child,” I whispered, taking her hands. “What have I done?”

“What?” Violet-with-the-non-Violet-face asked, struggling to right herself. “Oh. Of course. I am changed. By the way, Cassian, I could kill you for this hair. Fancy imagining hair this heavy on the head of any poor girl! It’s like balancing a crate of potatoes on my head.”

“I—” My voice failed me, dears, as I helped her to her wretchedly small feet. “I thought—I mean, I thought I
knew
—that it was only a story.”

Violet snorted. “Shows what you know. All stories are lies until someone believes in them. But I, for one, am sick to death of stories. Now, I want information. You’re sure my father knew? About the Nybbas?”

“Of course he knew,” I said. “It was his job to know.”

“That means, Cassian dear”—and the girl drew herself to her full height and gave me a hard, steady stare—“that I am the new recipient of that knowledge. If my father knew, then he thought about it. If he thought about it, then he wrote it down. If he was even a portion as curious about this as he was about the dragons, he will have more notes than I can fit into a sack. Which means the place that
I
need to be is with his notes, and I insist that you escort me there at once. You see, Cassian, the King was in error to make you regent. I am the daughter of King Randall the Bold and Queen Rose the Benevolent. My country is
my
responsibility, and I, for one, will not rest for a moment until that—
thing
—has been stopped. My father’s study, Cassian. Do you have the key?”

“So, let me get this straight,” Demetrius said, rocking back on his heels and resting his head on his fingertips as he stared up at the ceiling. “One of your—
people
—gods or whatever, tried to take over every universe ever thought of. Then it enslaved an entire world and made plans to enslave
all
creatures of
all
worlds—including
you
, I might add, and you just
left it here
?”

“
IT WAS THE ONLY OPTION
,” the voice boomed.

“Hogwash,” Demetrius snorted. He wanted to hit something.

“
Demetrius!
” Auntie hissed.
“Show some respect!”

“Why?” Demetrius asked. “You saw what’s happening out there. People are
dying
. They’re being
slaughtered
. Old women and men and little children and mothers and fathers, and for
what
?” He raised his hands. If he had a rock, he would have thrown it. “
Tell me why!
” he shouted.

“
CALM YOURSELF, BOY
,” the voice rumbled quietly. “
AND YOU, AUNTIE
,” it said, its voice becoming suddenly tender and deferential.
“DO NOT WORRY ABOUT THE CHILD OFFENDING ME. INDEED, IT IS HE WHO HAS EVERY RIGHT TO BE OFFENDED.”

“Why?” Demetrius asked.

“WE USED YOUR WORLD AS A PRISON—ONE THAT WAS INTENDED TO FAIL. IN TRUTH, I AM SURPRISED IT LASTED—”

“Intended to fail?” Moth asked, stepping forward.

“YES, MOTH. YOU SEE—”

“Intended to
fail
?” Moth interrupted. “What kind of gods
are
you? Thousands of years we’ve kept watch for you. We’ve kept the stories alive, passed down from parents to children to grandchildren. We’ve whispered to those idiot tellers and watched them think themselves
so clever
. And take all the credit, I might add! We’ve seen our numbers
dwindle to
nothing
. Look at us! We are the only
we
left! All for a system
intended
to fail? I thought you lot were supposed to be intelligent designers!”

The voice laughed quietly.
“EVEN THE MOST INTELLIGENT DESIGNER RELIES UPON TRIAL AND ERROR TO DISCOVER THE BEST SOLUTION. INTELLIGENCE DOES NOT MEAN INFALLIBILITY, NOR DOES IT MEAN IMMOBILITY. INTELLIGENCE MEANS THE ABILITY TO LEARN.”

“Excuses!” Moth shouted.

“
PERHAPS, OLD FRIEND
,” the voice said kindly.
“BUT WE DID OUR BEST. AND THERE WERE CONSEQUENCES. STILL, VIOLET, EVEN NOW, IS LEARNING THE SECRET OF HER FATHER’S RESCUED DRAGON. EVEN NOW, SHE IS LEARNING WHAT SHE MUST DO.”

“And what must she do?”

“KILL THE NYBBAS. SHE MUST DO WHAT WE COULD NOT. A GOD CANNOT KILL ANOTHER GOD. BUT WE CAN MAKE IT VULNERABLE. AND IT IS VULNERABLE AS LONG AS IT DOES NOT HAVE ITS HEART. WHAT SHE NEEDS IS BORROWED TIME.”

“Will she die?” Demetrius whispered, suddenly realizing the depths of this fear—that losing Violet forever seemed almost worse to him than losing his father.

“I CANNOT SAY, CHILD.”

“Cannot or
will
not?”

“A GOD CANNOT PREDICT THE FUTURE ANY MORE THAN YOU CAN. WE CREATE; WE SUSTAIN; WE LOVE. WE LEAVE THE SOOTHSAYING TO THE CIRCUS PERFORMERS.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“PROTECT THE HEART.”

“No,” Auntie said, though she was suddenly so aghast at herself that she clapped her hand over her mouth.

“NO?”

She closed her eyes and cleared her throat. “Sir,” she said, “wouldn’t it be better to destroy the heart? Like with a dragon’s heart. With fire?”

The stone floor rumbled beneath their feet.

“IT’S TOO RISKY. THERE’S NO TELLING WHICH WOULD SUCCUMB FIRST. AND IF IT WAS THE CASTLE, ALL WOULD BE LOST.”

“No telling?” Demetrius asked. “You mean you don’t
know
?”

“WE USE OUR BEST GUESS. JUST LIKE YOU.”

“But you’re a god!”

“AND I KNOW MORE THAN YOU. BUT NOT EVERYTHING. THERE ARE STILL… SURPRISES.”

“Still,” Auntie persisted, “as a measure of last resort? If the heart could be destroyed, then—”

“
NO
,” the voice said.
“IT IS TOO RISKY. THE FIRE OF A DRAGON WHOSE HEART IS RESTORED CAN BREAK THE PRISON OF THE NYBBAS. RIGHT NOW THE PRISON IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING THE NYBBAS ALIVE. IF IT BREAKS FREE WITHOUT ITS HEART, IT WILL DIE—JUST AS ANY GOD SEPARATED FROM ITS HEART MUST EVENTUALLY DIE. THE NYBBAS DOES NOT UNDERSTAND THIS, TO ITS PERIL.”

Demetrius shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”

“LONG AGO, BOY, WE REMOVED THE HEART OF THE NYBBAS AS A MEANS OF ITS ENTRAPMENT—JUST AS IT HAD DONE TO THE RACE OF DRAGONS THAT ONCE WERE PLENTIFUL IN THIS WORLD. WE ENCASED THE HEART IN STONE AND USED IT TO BUILD THIS CASTLE. IF THE CASTLE IS DESTROYED, if stone is ripped from stone, THE HEART WILL BE RELEASED, AND THE NYBBAS WILL BE FREE. EVEN NOW, THE SERVANTS OF THE NYBBAS PREPARE FOR THE FINAL ATTACK, AT FIRST LIGHT.”

Demetrius thought for a moment. “So the war is—”

“A TRICK.”

“I see. So is all lost, then?”

“WOULD I BE TALKING TO YOU, BOY, IF ALL WAS LOST? THIS CASTLE WAS NOT MADE BY HUMAN HANDS. IT IS MY OWN DESIGN—THOUGH MOTH MIGHT SNEER AT IT. SURROUNDING US IN THIS ROOM ARE NEARLY TWO THOUSAND DOORS—EACH ONE LEADING TO A PARTICULAR ROOM IN THE CASTLE.”

Demetrius spun around. “Really? They all lead here?”

“NO. NOTHING LEADS HERE.
HERE
LEADS EVERYWHERE ELSE. ONCE YOU GO THROUGH THE DOOR, YOU CANNOT COME BACK TO THIS PLACE.”