Isle of Wysteria: The Monolith Crumbles (25 page)

* * *

The real Spirea watched as her body galloped through the brisk morning air, the twinkling dew of the plains beyond catching the swift sunrise in the east. The thundering hooves of the sweet-smelling Y’darni stallion beneath her, the mist of her breath stinging against her cheeks, the whipping of her raven hair against her shoulders, the weight of the scepter in her hands. She could feel it all, but she could do nothing about it. Her body was no longer her own, and she was a prisoner behind her own eyes.

Tigera rode abreast on his own stallion, laughing with excitement. He wove about as they sped through a small grove of trees, then with practice expertise he leaned to one side and accelerated, moving to cut her off. Queen Sotol gave her mount a quick tap of the spurs and reared up, animal and rider moving as one as they leapt into the air, clearing above his head, and landing before him with a thunderous clack of hooves.

His path blocked, Tigera leaned back and ground to a halt. The Queen and her horse came to a stop before him without looking back, the animal giving a self-satisfied flick of his tail, as if expressing his master’s own feelings.

“That was well done, your Highness,” Tigera praised as he trotted up alongside her. “Extremely well done. You have developed a mastery that takes most nobles years to accomplish.”

“I do not pay you to flatter me.”

Tigera grinned and stroked his goatee. “Very well then, I will correct you instead. A true rider has no need to use the spurs like that. You need to spend more time earning the animal’s trust.”

“Trust is for children. All I require is his fear.”

Tigera laughed warmly as he rearranged some of the carved bones. “Yes, I have noticed that. You throttle your ride the same way you throttle your subordinates.”

Queen Sotol looked at him harshly.

Is this guy stupid?
The real Spirea wondered.
He’s going to get himself beheaded talking to her like that.

Without warning, the blade in her scepter extended and was pressed up against his throat. It happened so quickly, he didn’t even have a chance to blink.

“I have butchered men where they stood for saying less than that to me,” The Queen snarled. “I am the crown royal of Stretis and the leader of all League military forces, you mewling flea!”

Tigera didn’t move. His eyes were as calm as still waters. “Yes, you are violent, ruthless, and utterly devoid of pity or remorse…I think it is beautiful.”

Queen Sotol’s eyes narrowed in confusion, and she withdrew the blade. “You are an odd man. Do you know that? Does nothing frighten you?”

Tigera laughed and wheeled his mount around so they could speak face to face. “Your Highness, you will find that we Hoeunites care little for the rules of people. They’re too arbitrary and complex. They serve only to elevate those who made them. The realm of animals has only one rule: Kill, or be killed. Life for an animal is violent, cruel, and short. That is the natural order of things. You have a purity of spirit about you that I find beautiful. Unfettered by conscious, undiluted by doubt. You achieve your goals unflinchingly without hesitation or regret.”

The Queen blushed and turned away. “That is twice now you have called me beautiful. Do not do it again if you value your life.”

Wait…does she…like him?

Tigera smiled and urged his stallion forward a couple of paces to draw closer to her. “I look into your eyes and I see the eyes of a hungry wolf. What word other than beautiful could accurately convey such immaculacy?”

She blushed deeper. Absentmindedly, she reached up and brushed aside the Eye of the Storm necklace in order to touch the carved bone Beastmaster necklace she wore underneath her royal gown.

Deftly he reached out and removed the necklace from around her neck. She ignored it, as if she didn’t even notice him doing it. He rearranged some of the bones, working the subtle magic that controlled the afet dissolved within her blood. Slowly replacing the dirgina and allowing the real Spirea to resurface. With a clack of smoke, the necklace began humming, and he placed it back around her neck.

Queen Sotol rubbed her temple, looking around as if confused. When she saw him smiling, she relaxed a bit.

“Your contract is nearly fulfilled,” she mentioned softly. “I’m going to miss our morning rides together.”

Oh gross, she does like him. In my body…she’s pining after him in my body. I can actually feel how attracted she is to him. Oh, this is unbearable.

Tigera leaned in, so close to her now that their noses nearly touched.

“Then perhaps we could negotiate a new contract?” he suggested.

Oh no! She wants to kiss him. No! Don’t do it! I only want to kiss Alder, not this guy.

The screech of a falcon drew their attention away from each other.

Oh, thank Milia.

The hunting bird dove down from above, unfolding its wings at the last second to swoop up over the tall grass. As it came to a rest, the animal’s flesh exploded, revealing a black skeleton. The bones reshaped themselves, and the flesh reknit itself into a man standing before them.

“I need to speak with you right away,” Blair snapped as he folded his arms in dissatisfaction.

“What is the problem?”

Blair’s needle-like eyes flicked over to Tigera, indicating that he was waiting for her to dismiss him.

The Queen looked at Tigera sidelong, then seemed to resolve something within herself. “It is fine. Anything you say to me, you can say in front of him.”

Blair blinked. “Fine? Hoeun is part of the Alliance, his people…”

“Perhaps you should take on a form with larger ears and a smaller mouth. I said it was fine,” she insisted.

Tigera beamed with satisfaction.

Wait…was this his plan? I remember now. He’s the Beastmaster Athel and I fought underneath Thesda. The one who was kidnapping people. Wasn’t he working for this Kabal back then? So, why is he trying to insinuate himself into it now? Just what is he up to?

Blair sneered. “Very well, it’s not like I care. Father is displeased with you.”

“He is always displeased,” Spirea said dryly.

“You cannot give out orders to our operatives directly. You don’t have the authority.”

“I was given a mission to fulfill, and I am fulfilling it. Does Dev’in want Athel Forsythia dead or does he not?”

“Oh, he wants her dead. He mumbles about it to Mother for hours on end. But he also wants you to stay within your bounds.”

That’s right. She has been tasked to kill Athel. If she kills Athel, then maybe I can get Alder back? No, wait, Athel said that she is still my friend, but how can I believe her? Ahh, I can’t think straight. It’s like my head has been scrambled. No, I’m not going to let people use me anymore. I’ll only bring pain, even more pain than I already have.

“Boundaries are irrelevant,” The Queen said. “I need access to one of your sleeper agents. Athel has made a move that I must counter.”

“What move is that?”

“She has sent new delegates to Hatronesia to sign a treaty. I mean to sabotage her.”

“Only a ranking member of the Kabal can activate a sleeper agent. Only a handful of people....”

“So initiate me, then!”

Blair threw his head back and laughed. “Not a chance.”

Queen Sotol was not amused. “You have no idea how close you are to losing this war, do you?” she accused coldly.

“Hardly. At the rate the Himitsu are harvesting, we will have all the souls we need in time to resurrect Valpurgeiss. What can she possibly do trapped on her island, unable to launch her fleets of traitor airships without our permission? Even if she found a way off her island prison, we are preparing for…”

She reached out and grabbed Blair by the throat, her sharpened nails digging into his flesh. “I can tell exactly what Athel is thinking, you smug twig! She plans to use Hatronesian magic to force you to end the Rubric.”

Blair blinked. “What?”

She grunted in frustration and released him. “See, this is exactly why she beat you before. You don’t understand how her mind works. I do. You are frantically building fresh defenses all over Boeth in preparation of her direct assault, but you are wasting your time. The loss of so much life on both sides would offend her preposterous sense of aesthetics. No, she’ll look for a way to save as many lives on both sides as possible. She’ll create a situation where the Stonemasters will desperately want to do exactly what she wants them to do.”

This caught Blair’s attention. “But, how would she do that?”

“She’s going to have the Hatronesians declare war on Boeth. Under her instructions, they will claim that they are acting independently to save themselves from the Rubric, siding with neither the Alliance nor the League, and they will use an army of their sorcerers to lift a blanket of seawater and hold it over Boeth itself.”

Blair’s jaw fell open.

She nodded icily. “Those winged freaks will inform the Stonemasters that in two hours the sea water will fall down on them. If the Rubric is dispelled by then, the water will do no harm. If it is still active, their cities and forests will be dissolved to nothing but parched bones. Their caves and secret places will be flooded full.”

Blair covered his mouth in terrified understanding, a smile forming on his thin lips. “She knows that the Stone Council cannot possibly give in to her demands. Valpurgeiss would never allow it.”

“She doesn’t know your true goals, but she has correctly deduced your character. She knows you will never give in to those demands.”

Blair’s eyes widened in blissful terror. “Which means…”

“…Which means the Stonemasters themselves will have no choice but to rise up against the Stone Council. That is her true goal, to turn them against us. She knows that Stonemaster magic can tear apart Truestone like cotton. Athel and the Alliance navy will arrive just in time from a different direction, offering to help as a benevolent ally, inviting them to join her as she attacks the monolith itself. Those stupid little squats will sing her praise, not even realizing that she is offering to save them from a situation she herself created. Forsythians absolutely adore that kind of strategy. They have an almost pathological need to come off as being the good guys. It’s how they’ve maintained power for so many generations. It’s the same kind of trick she used to turn the navy against us. In the end, all those gates and fortifications you are building will be opened to her from within by the very soldiers manning them.”

That’s right. Athel always tries to save everyone. She’s like some stupid little kid pretending to be a hero like the ones in those dumb books she always blathers about. Back on the Dreadnaught, she even saved my life once. But, why would she save me if she planned to betray me? But, she did betray me; she stole the man I loved…didn’t she? Oh, I’m so confused…

Blair laughed. “Oh, this is exquisite. Truly, Athel Forsythia is a more dangerous opponent than I had ever imagined. What can we do to stop her?”

Queen Sotol smiled devilishly. “Make me a ranking member of the Kabal, and I will tell you.”

* * *

“Oh wow, I’ve never seen so many different kinds of food in all my life,” Dwale whispered in awe as he looked around the extravagant dining hall. The glowing crystal chandeliers, the stone fountains, the parted waterfall through which guests entered, the gold filigree of the moldings, the thick embossed wallpaper, the priceless rugs. For someone who had been blind for years, it was visual overload. Dwale found that he had to hold his hands up, limiting what he was looking at to just a few things at a time. It intimidated him in a way that was hard to describe. Not a fear, per say, but definitely a strong sensation of wanting to run away from so much visual noise. This was clearly a place to which men would enter only as servants. Being a guest there made him feel a little like a burglar.

“Yeah, I always wanted to go to this place,” Setsuna said as she stretched back in her fine leather chair, kicking her boots off of her feet beneath the table. “This is supposed to be the nicest restaurant in all of Eddinburg.”

Dwale looked around. “Won’t Dr. Griffin be joining us?”

“Oh, he couldn’t come.”

“Work?”

“He was all tied up.”

* * *

Inside their ship, Dr. Griffin’s muffled screams could be heard coming out of a coat closet. The banging grew louder and louder until the door busted open, and he fell to the floor, tied in rope from neck to ankle.

“Ha! You think this will stop me!” he yelled, spitting out the gag. “I’ll crawl into your room and try on all your clothes while you are gone!”

Dr. Griffin squirmed forward like a giant caterpillar, but was halted by a metallic clank. Looking back, he realized that his ankle was chained to a steam pipe.

“Dang it!”

* * *

Back at the restaurant, Privet kept glancing over his shoulder, as if he expected some Treesingers to rush in and arrest them at any time. “If we had kept going, we could have made Ronesia by the end of the week.”

Setsuna plucked up a piece of buttered bread and placed it delicately on her tongue. “Oh, don’t be so stuffy. This is my treat. How often do you Wysterian men get a chance to be wined and dined by a beautiful woman like me, anyway?”

Privet tapped his fingertips together. “Like you? Never.”

“Exactly.”

Dwale smiled knowingly. “Because there are no Wysterian women like her, right brother?”

“Yup.”

“Good thing, too,” Setsuna boasted, refusing to acknowledge his barb. “A Wysterian woman would have let that thief just make off with our coats as we came in.”

“That was the cloakman,” Privet said. “It’s his job to take people’s jackets.”

Setsuna cracked an eye open. “It’s his job to steal people’s jackets? And people call me a thief.”

“You are a thief. He hangs the jackets in the cloak closet then gives them back to you as you leave.”

Setsuna’s long pointed ears twitched. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Oh.” She sat up and looked out the window. Floating on an artificial islet, this place had an amazing view of the glimmering city below.