Isle of Wysteria: The Monolith Crumbles (13 page)

“We cannot defeat the monolith by ourselves. The forest needs them if it is to survive. You agreed to this course of action, as did we all. This was not decided by just one person.”

Madam Bursage spun around, taking a moment at the doorway to hurl out one final barb. “Perhaps if you had been more forthright in what would come of it, the forest would not have been so quick to agree.”

Even Alder was aghast at the sharpness of her words.

Although she didn’t show it, her words hurt Athel deeply. Madam Bursage knew perfectly well that Athel had held nothing back. She had completely opened herself up to the scrutiny of the forest when she became Queen. She had torn her heart asunder, exposing every embarrassing and secret place, to be sifted through and scrutinized by all. It had been the most humiliating experience of her life, so to have it so casually dismissed and even accused of deception was hurtful indeed.

Unable to hide her pain, Athel closed the door and released her staff and withdrew from the link for a time, at least until she could get her feelings under control.

Alder walked over and put his arms around her sympathetically. “I am sorry, Athi. I see now what you mean about the other Matrons. I failed to appreciate how difficult a position I am placing you in.”

He stepped before her and bowed deeply. “I apologize.”

Athel shook her head. “Please don’t bow to me. At least not when we’re alone together.”

“Very well.”

She forced herself not to cry. “You’re right. I am prejudiced. I just didn’t see it until it affected someone I cared about. Our whole island, all the women, are so prejudiced against the men they can barely see straight. I mean, look at how Madam Bursage reacted just because I told her she cannot beat the men of the navy or deprive them of food. You’d think I had stolen her family crest or something. When I think about my son being ruled over by women like her…I see it now for what it really is. Privet was right; we do treat them like slaves. I guess I just…didn’t want to see it.”

She looked up at him. “Even still, it won’t do any good to try and persuade the hard-liners. There are some things even the Queen cannot change.”

“But will you at least let me try?”

She moved to deny him, but then thought better of it. “Yes, I’ll give you access to the archives. It would be wrong for me not to at least give you that.”

Alder started to bow, but caught himself. “Thank you.”

Athel sniffed. Just looking at him made her feel a little better. “But, you have to promise not to mark up the records if you find any spelling or grammatical errors, okay?”

“I will try to restrain myself.”

She grabbed his hand. “Aldi, I am serious, do not proofread our holy scrolls.”

He smiled warmly. “Of course I won’t.”

Suddenly there was a sharp ping of energy followed by a distant explosion. The royal tree rocked slowly from side to side. Athel and Alder’s eyes went wide and they looked at each other.

“The baby!”

Even in her queenly robes, Athel managed to outdistance her bodyguards as she rounded the corner and arrived at her bedchambers, where she found a handful of black guards taking cover in the hallway, blasts of sonic energy tearing through the doorway and slamming into the walls of the corridor.

“My Queen, thank Milia you are here,” High Priestess Oleander called out over the noise, looking relieved. “Please call off your guard dogs, I came here and they attacked me.”

Alder’s eyes were wide with panic, but the Queen was icily calm. “Mina, Allister, I am here; please hold your fire.”

The magical attacks stopped, and the Queen stepped into the ruined doorway, to find Mina and Captain Evere holed up in a corner, where bed frames and cushions had been gathered together into makeshift defenses.

“What happened?”

“She tried to barge in here and take the baby!” Captain Evere bellowed as he cradled Ash in his arms.

The Queen turned her cold gaze to the High Priestess. “Is this true?”

Oleander backed off a little at the accusation. “I…I am here as part of an official church tribunal. I should not need anyone’s permission to enter, much less theirs. I really don’t know what to think right now. In all my long years I have never been treated so shamefully. Forgive me for saying so, but how can you run your household like this? Do your dogs even realize that attacking a Priestess of Milia can be punishable by death?”

“I dare you to call me that again,” Mina snarled, a ball of energy in her claws, ready to throw.

Alder trembled as he looked at the Black Guards, clutching their staffs. He knew all too well that a single word from the High Priestess and this would end in bloodshed.

Queen Forsythia stepped in between them and tried to pacify the situation.

“May I ask the subject of your tribunal?”

Oleander straightened her robes, obviously pleased to be speaking with someone rational again. “Yes, of course. There is a rumor spreading through the forest that your son has developed demonic powers. The church has sent me to ascertain the validity of those rumors and render judgment as necessary.”

The Queen calmly stepped into her bedchambers and motioned for the High Priestess to follow her. “The rumors are true; Ash does have magic, although I think it would be premature to call his powers demonic.”

She brought the High Priestess and her Black Guard over to a collection of flower vases from a dozen different cultures and styles, all dusted with the ash from flowers destroyed by the baby’s touch.

Oleander could not hide her abhorrence.

“Premature?” she repeated, her trembling hand reaching out to the dusty plant remains. “My Queen, no matter how much soft language you use, you cannot downplay the severity of this. A man who kills trees is an affront to Milia.”

Queen Forsythia templed her hands atop her staff. “We do not know Milia’s will in this matter.”

Oleander knelt down and said a prayer in the old tongue and waved her hand over the ashes, blessing the spirits of the plants as they returned to become part of Milia again. When she finished she stood up, her eyes resolute. “It is perfectly obvious that Milia would oppose a man with the ability to kill her daughters. As speaker for Milia, I can assure you of that.”

“He is not a man, he is a baby,” Mina pleaded, placing her hands gently on Ash’s soft little head.

“What is wrong with you Wysterians?” Captain Evere hollered, holding the baby tighter against his barrel chest. “Don’t you have any natural affection towards your little ones?”

Oleander’s lip trembled in anger. “I should not have to stand here and be judged by a Tomani in my own lands. You gypsy scum! Do you think I enjoy issuing a death sentence to a newborn? No, it tears me apart inside. I have been avoiding this for days. In my heart, I have been dreading the possibility of this day ever since this man was born. But, protecting the forest is more important than my own feelings.”

The Black Guard tightened their grip on their weapons. The Queen’s guards did the same. Both sides stared each other down, waiting like coiled springs; ready to snap into action the instant they received the order.

The High Priestess turned to the Queen, meeting her gaze with a will to rival hers. “I know you understand that.”

“All too well,” the Queen said icily. “I, too, have sacrificed my heart to the forest, so I feel a kinship to you. Even now, as we disagree, I do not feel in my heart that you are my enemy.”

Oleander’s face softened. “I am relieved to hear that. My greatest fear today is that you would grow to hate me for fulfilling my duties.”

“No magic in this world can bring back the dead; therefore it behooves us to be cautious when dealing out judgment in the course of our duties. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“He kills plants, it is sacrilege. What more evidence do we need?”

Oleander placed a tender hand against the wall, communing with the royal tree. “What if he were to use it to kill a Nallorn tree?”

Alder was appalled at the suggestion. The Queen was passive.

“That would be serious, I agree, High Priestess, but so far he seems to only use it on dying plants like these decapitated flowers the foreigners keep giving me as gifts.”

Oleander shook her head. “Monstrous.”

“I’ll assume you mean their gifts. Ash’s treatment is humane, in my estimation. These plants were suffering, and he ends their suffering. Most, if not all of them have conveyed their gratitude to him as he has done so.”

Alder’s head shot up. “That’s it.”

“Please hold your tongue in a woman’s presence,” Oleander instructed, her gaze never turning away from the Queen’s.

“Please allow me to run my household as I see fit,” the Queen said coolly. “You may censure me if you wish, but I punish the men of my house. That is the order of things.”

The High Priestess bit her lip. “Very well.”

The Queen held out her hand. “Alder, you may speak.”

Alder stepped forward. “Ash’s magic. Don’t you see? He isn’t killing plants at random; he is clearing away the old growth and the underbrush. His magic fulfills the traditional role of men in the forest.”

The Queen lifted her eyebrow. “Interesting. I would never have considered that.”

The High Priestess was disgusted. “How can you be fascinated by this abomination? This is an affront to Milia, it must be destroyed immediately.”

“Let us not be hasty.”

Oleander’s jaw dropped. “H-Hasty?” She looked around, as if she was wondering if she were the only sane person in the room. “My Queen, please do not take offense, but I feel I must ask you, have you purified yourself lately?”

“Why do you ask?”

Oleander’s eyes dropped. “Forgive me for saying so, but madness does run in your family. Your sister’s brief reign is a dark blot indeed on our history.”

Everyone else in the room gasped in offense. The royal guard couldn’t believe such a thing would be said out loud. They gritted their teeth, nearly pleading for an order to attack. The Black Guard prepared themselves for it.

The Queen showed no reaction at all.

“I do not share my sister’s condition, if that is what you mean.”

“Then why are your reactions to this abomination so abnormal? You should be appalled at this. Clearly, your judgment is being impeded by something, which leads me to wonder what impedes it.”

Mina’s rage boiled over. “Athel, how can you just stand there and let her insult you like this?”

“Indeed,” Alder added, sincerely offended. “To accuse the Queen of the Forest of madness goes beyond even your authority.”

Captain Evere removed the safety on his rifle. “Just say the word lass,” he said in a low growl, “just say the word.”

Queen Forsythia turned to her friends in terrible majesty. “I do not scream at her because screaming will make the situation worse, not better. She has the authority to end my child’s life at this very moment. I must tread this situation with the greatest of care or she will take him. That is why I weather her insults. If you cannot speak to her without escalating the situation, please at least hold your tongues.”

Mina, Alder, and Captain Evere could only stare at her and realize the wisdom of her words. Threatened with the death of her child, and besieged with insults, she was perfectly calm. Her level of self-control seemed almost otherworldly.

Queen Forsythia turned back to the High Priestess. “Has it ever occurred to you that love may be the thing that is impeding my judgment?”

Oleander blinked. “Love?”

The Queen glided over and placed a loving hand on her baby. “Yes, this is my child. What’s more, he is the firstborn of my tree, the Queen’s tree. He is my own flesh and blood. Is it not natural that I love him? Is it not natural that I wish to protect his life?”

Oleander was at a loss for words.

Alder’s eyes filled with esteem for his noble wife. This was the first time Athel had ever referred to Ash as her heir, even unofficially.

“High Priestess, may I show you something?”

Oleander hesitated.

“Surely you do not believe that little Ash here will destroy Wysteria in the next five minutes while I show you something?”

The High Priestess looked down at the baby, cooing sweetly as he sucked on his own toes.

“Very well.”

The warriors and guards slackened their grip on their weapons. Captain Evere uncocked his rifle, but did not shoulder it. The Queen led them down the hall and opened up a sealed room. Throwing aside a leather tarp that covered it, she revealed the blackened crystal array, like a sickly pipe organ of gnarled crystals.

“High Priestess, please place your hand on this device.”

Oleander did not move.

“You have my word that no harm will come to you.”

Reluctantly, the old woman complied, and placed her hand on the Stonemaster device. Her body became visibly disturbed. Her palms became sweaty, her fingers twitched, her eyes trembled.

“This device was made with void magic,” the Queen explained. “Can you feel it?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “It feels unnatural, like a hot ember, burning me up, searing my soul. It feels…evil.”

The High Priestess withdrew her hand, unable to withstand any more.

The Queen took Ash in her arms and held him out, despite Captain Evere’s protests. “Now, place your hand on my son.”

The baby giggled happily as Oleander set her hand on his soft little chest.

“Does his magic feel unnatural to you?”

The High Priestess struggled for several moments, her eyes moving back and forth underneath her wrinkly eyelids. “No,” she answered honestly. “His magic feels different from ours, but it does not feel evil.”

Queen Forsythia placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “I commend you for your integrity. I know that was not an easy thing for you to admit just now.”

Oleander opened her aged eyes, less sure of what to do than she had been before.

“May I suggest a compromise?” Queen Forsythia asked graciously. “We do not as of yet understand this magic that Ash is wielding. I will call for a SpiritWeaver to examine him and his tree, and we will find out if his powers are truly demonic or not. Is that acceptable to you?”