Isle of Wysteria: The Monolith Crumbles (41 page)

Ellie looked down in shame.

Hanner’s face wrenched in anguish.

Ryin scooped up the crystal again. “You always have a choice, Ellie. That’s what it means to be an adult.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, the dark band inside her neck crackling.

Hanner snarled and rammed the barrel into her forehead. “You think you can just apologize? No, it’s too late for that! We are way waaaay past sorry. You picked your side, and now you’re gonna receive your reward.”

Ellie shrieked in terror.

Ryin placed his hand on Hanner’s wrist. “It’s over, Hanner. We got Strenner back, just let her go.”

Hanner couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Let her go? Are you kidding me? She’s one of them.”

“The damage has been done. Killing her at this point won’t change what is to come.”

“No!” Hanner barked, shoving the pistol harder into her face, “this is all her fault!”

“Hanner, she acted out of fear for a family member. You, of all people, know what that feels like.”

Hanner’s hand began to shake. “She’s the reason I had to.”

“Look at her. That’s void magic in her neck. I can smell it from here. She’s as much a victim here as you are.”

“No” Hanner screamed. “She hurt me and now I’m going to hurt her. That is justice.”

“No,” Ryin said gently. “That is revenge.”

Carefully, Ryin placed his other hand beneath the grip. “And if this world is ever going to heal, it has to start somewhere.”

Hanner struggled, his teeth grinding, sweat trickling down his beefy neck, his eyes wavering. “But…but…”

Strenner sensed the tension and began to cry. The sound startled Hanner enough to loosen his grip. Ryin pushed Hanner’s hand up and the gun discharged, the shots shredding Ellie’s hood and peppering the leg of the tower.

Ellie and Hanner froze in place, breathing heavily. The blast had shorn off one of her pigtails, but she was alive.

Hanner’s eyes slowly came into focus as he realized what he almost just did. Disgusted with himself, he threw the gun down at her feet, and turned away. “Treacherous kid ain’t worth the trouble, anyway.”

“I’m proud of you, big guy,” Ryin praised, patting him on the back. “That is the difference between a sailor and a killer.”

“I’m no sailor,” Hanner said sadly, stepping away. “I betrayed you, my friends, my shipmates. I betrayed Athel and the whole Alliance.”

He took Strenner and held him tightly to his chest, despair on his face. “I’m a traitor.”

“You were desperate. You…”

“No, that’s the same excuse she just tried to use!” Hanner screamed, startling everyone.

As Hanner walked off, Ryin scooped up the pistol and made after him.

“What about me?” Ellie whispered as she knelt there on the barren ground. “Where should I go?”

Ryin looked around at the cold shredded tents flapping in the breeze. “It doesn’t matter. Because of the people you work for, in a few more months there won’t be anywhere left to go.”

Ryin walked off, leaving her there in her grief. He found Hanner loosing one of the old longboats to make sure it still worked.

“Hanner, what are you doing?”

Hanner held Strenner tight and clenched his mighty fists. “I can’t go back, Ryin. I betrayed everyone.”

“No, Hanner, we…we’ve always been together. You’re…my best friend.”

Hanner’s hand fell limply at his side. “I know. Truth be told, I would have quit the navy years ago if it weren’t for you. You kept things interesting. But, I can’t stay now. No one will ever trust me again.”

“They’ll understand, I’ll tell them…”

“No, they won’t, and they shouldn’t. I wouldn’t trust me, either.”

Hanner looked back, his mighty frame as frail as lint. “I’m not like the rest of you. I’m no hero.”

“You think I’m a hero? Hanner, I’m the biggest screw-up there is.”

“Yeah, you are. But, when the chips were down, and the stakes were high, you did the right thing…”

Hanner sadly stepped into the longboat and cut it loose. “…and I didn’t.”

“Come on Hanner, please don’t go.”

Hanner looked back mournfully. “I’m sorry, Ryin. I would make the same choice again every time. That’s why I can’t stay with you. They’ll just use me against you again if I do.”

Ryin called out to him, but it did no good. Hanner and Strenner sailed off to the east, to an uncertain place, and an uncertain future.

Ryin kept his eyes fixed on the spot in the sky where they were long after they had vanished from view.

* * *

Queen Forsythia’s throne had been moved to the center of the light carrier ring atop the royal tree. Navy officers rushed messages as fast as they could, nearly running, sometimes tripping over one another, stacking, collating, decoding. It was like an anthill on fire, a perfect storm of motion and paper, frantic voices piling atop one another, until it all flowed together into a kind of pervading bluster, like a flock of birds startled by some predator. The handful of Wysterians present felt like more of an afterthought. They stood there in utter discomfort, their body language tight, as if they were each trapped inside an invisible glass vial.

“Now presenting Naanie Maaturro, and his son Nuutrik,” Dahoon announced, for all the good it did. His voice couldn’t carry more than a few feet in this hurricane of people.

Naanie came up, wearing his finest armor of woven Juupa stalks, his hair pulled back into a decorative tress. He crossed his arms in salute. Nuutrik mimicked his father and did the same as best he could.

“It is good to see you both,” the Queen welcomed with exhausted eyes. “I feel like we have barely spoken since you arrived.”

“That’s because we haven’t.”

“My Queen, this requires your signature,” Rachael said, clattering up in her high heels.

“Yes, of course.”

The Queen affixed her seal and signature, then returned her attention to the pair. Nuutrik clung close to his father, hiding from all the people running around.

“How are things back on Kwi?”

“Oh, Tidnaa is furious at us for joining the Alliance, so nothing new there, but the Bakuu don’t dare attack us anymore, so that’s nice. Your Treesinger grew us a nice full crop of winter wheat for us. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

“It pleases the forest to honor her treaties.”

Captain Sykes walked up and handed her a paper. “Ma’am, that author you have been housing, Mister Albashire, he is requesting permission to leave again.”

“Denied. The navy patrols have been attacking everything leaving our airspace. He goes out there in his yacht, he’ll be shot down on sight.”

As Sykes walked away, Naanie watched the Queen closely. Her labored breathing, the dark, sunken lines in her face. She seemed drained, as if her body were heavier than it really was. Bunni Bubbles walked up with a silver tray, and Alder carefully poured a cup of tea with shaking hands, the kettle nearly slipping out of his grip. But before the Queen could accept it, she was interrupted by a fresh stack of papers.

“How long has it been since you have slept?” Naanie asked.

Queen Forsythia affixed her seal. “Sleep? What’s that?”

Naanie laughed. Nuutrik didn’t understand.

“Queen Forsythia, can you approve this formation?” Nikki requested.

“Reinforce the flanks, and redistribute the Iberians, we need one on each dais.”

Nuutrik grabbed his father’s arm and asked something in their chittering language. Naanie scolded him in return, surprisingly angry.

The Queen handed the stack back to the adjutant. “What did he say?”

Naanie looked around, embarrassed. “Um, I’d rather not say.”

“Please, you can speak your mind before the forest.”

Rachael minced up again, her uniform threatening to burst from her curves. “Your highness, this is the latest message from King Frians. He will arrive in two days.”

“Confirm. Tell him to approach from the west. We don’t want him flat-heading right into the Hatronesian axis of advance.”

Alder moved to offer her the tea, but thought better on it and allowed Bunni Bubbles to pass it to her instead. He sighed in relief when Athel sipped it. It was the first nourishment she had taken in two days.

The Queen looked at Naanie as she sipped down the warm liquid, and he realized that she was still waiting for his response.

“Um, it is not that I fear to speak, I simply do not wish to hurt your feelings.”

She set her cup back down. Alder allowed Bunni to take it, and she skipped away, holding the tray.

“Hurt my feelings? Now, my curiosity is piqued.”

Realizing she would not take no for an answer, Naanie sighed in resignation. “He asked who that old lady is on the throne. He’s upset because he wanted to see Athel today.”

Somehow everyone in the room managed to overhear every word perfectly. They all grew quiet, some people pausing mid stride. They couldn’t believe what had just been said.

A note of sadness slipped through the Queen’s mask. “I see.”

Naanie was mortified. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“No, it is all right. We Forsythians have always valued truth, even when it is hard to hear. Children can be precocious, because they don’t think to lie.”

The Queen smiled warmly to smooth things over, but Naanie knew better. It was a forced smile, a haunted smile.

She rose up from her throne and smoothed her gown. Like great rose petals, it folded as she came down on one knee so she could speak to the Kwi child face to face.

“Nuutrik, I’m sorry you couldn’t meet Athel today,” she said congenially. “If you give me a message, I promise to pass it along to her.”

Nuutrik stepped out from behind his father, and strained to talk, still unaccustomed to speaking in common. “Tell her I miss her,” he said, his words heavily accented.

The Queen gently took his hand in hers. “I miss her too,” she said softly.

Captain Sykes returned with a report. “Your highness, some of your Treesingers are preventing our engineers from installing the ballistas onto the branches of the trees along the coast.”

“One moment, I will speak with them about it.”

She motioned for Alder to pass her staff to her. He looked at it warily, then stepped back, allowing Dahoon to pass it to her instead. This worried her.

“Are you all right, husband?”

“I assure you, I am perfectly well. Please do not concern yourself.”

Pressed for time, she relented for the moment. Taking her staff, she focused her powers, her eyes moving beneath closed lids. Alder coughed painfully, forced to grab the arm of the throne to keep his balance.

A moment later, the Queen opened her eyes again. “You may install the siege engines as planned,” she announced when she opened her eyes again.

“Now, about those special mines the forest asked of you,” she continued, sitting back down. “Please tell me you have some good news.”

Naanie took out the plans and looked them over again. “This is the most complicated synthesis ever attempted. Seven different magics at once. We thought you had gone mad when you proposed it.”

“That is a frequent sentiment as of late.”

Naanie tucked the scroll back beneath his armor. “After our previous failures, we took your suggestion, and spend some time with the other masters, getting to know one another, sharing stories, creating a rapport. Like you said, our magics cannot align without trust.”

“And?”

Nannie smiled brightly. “…And I am happy to report we have had our first success.”

“That news is most welcome. The first good portent in days.”

Nikki stepped forward. “The Shadow Mine reacted to the Truestone?”

“Yes. The explosion infected it exactly as planned.”

The Queen rested her hands in her lap in satisfaction. “How fast can they be made?”

“That’s the problem. The core synthesis takes four days to create. Even if we worked day and night, we could have, at best, three ready by the time you leave.”

Nikki stumbled back. “Only three? We needed hundreds…”

Rachael turned around from a clicking light carrier, holding a message roll in her hand. “Queen Forsythia,” she shouted over the noise, “we just received a report from Paxillius. The Hatronesians now control the northern plains. They are preparing to launch an assault on their capital.”

Everyone who heard it became tense and afraid.

“Send out the 29
th
and 31
st
divisions to reinforce immediately,” the Queen ordered calmly. “Have the Ronesian cavalry go with them; they are well suited to that terrain.”

“Aye.”

Nikki leaned in, extremely worried. “Your Highness, we need those troops for the invasion. Already we will be leaving with a quarter of what we had originally planned. Cutting it down further…”

“We cannot allow Paxillius to fall. If we fail to protect one of our own, faith in the Alliance will crumble. Sailors will consider defecting back to their homelands to protect them from the Hatronesians. What’s more, it’s the right thing to do.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” she agreed.

* * *

Clockwork Master Elisa Hackenvaughn watched carefully as the surgeon worked inside the stump of Captain Tallia’s right shoulder, brass cables spilling out like spaghetti as he meshed nerve tendon and bone with metal and gear.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything to dull the pain?” she asked again, scratching her back with her heavy work gloves.

Captain Tallia didn’t even flinch as she lay on the table, the scalpels and needles working their horrible craft inside of her. It felt like fingers probing inside a wound. It made her stomach church, but she refused to show it. “No thank you, my people are largely immune to your pain medicines. Besides, this is nothing compared to what I felt when I lost my Ma’iltri’ia.”

“I see,” Elisa said, impressed. The surgeon gave her a nod, and she brought out her creation. “I’m actually really excited to show her to you. There’s never been anything like her. Not in all of Aetria. Originally, I just had asked the guys from the Sutorian delegation for help with some parts, but then the bear-people from Iso saw what we were doing and asked if they could contribute, too. Before we knew it, everyone joined in. Can you believe it? Just a few months ago, such a thing would have been unthinkable. Now we all come together and work as a team without a second thought.”