Rift in the Races (4 page)

“My dearest Orli,” cooed the Queen as if in answer to the thought. “You, child, are like the first flower of spring every time I lay eyes upon you. It is no wonder our good Sir Altin nearly swoons at your least attention. Who would not?” The Queen embraced her, which drew an audible gasp from the woman standing beside Vorvington.

Orli heard it and watched the contortions of her indignation over the Queen’s shoulder as she returned the Queen’s hug. The woman looked as if she were being forced to witness her monarch wrestling with an ape. Orli resisted the temptation to send a snarky grin her way.

Orli also noticed the handsome Thadius Thoroughgood watching her, and when their eyes met, he shaped an exquisite square-jawed smile for her that many a young lady at court would have died for. He inclined his head ever so slightly as he did so and turned his hand twice in the air just at the level of his heart. She returned the smile just as the Queen straightened and pushed Orli out to arm’s length, holding her there in a remarkably powerful grip. “It is good to see you again.”

“Your Majesty. It’s an honor to see you again as well,” said Orli while the Queen studied her face as if looking for something.

“Indeed,” said the Queen. “And you have forgiven me for giving you back to your admiral and his fleet as I did? I know you don’t truly belong in that dirty old mine up there.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Of course I have,” Orli replied. “My people do need me, just as you said. At least until we can repair our ships. Once the Hostiles are destroyed, it will be different. So I am happy. Your Majesty is very kind to ask.”

“Indeed,” repeated the Queen. “One day I’ll have you for my permanent subject, and they won’t be able to order you about the galaxy any longer. Then you may pick all the flowers my planet can provide.” She flashed a playful smile at Captain Asad and leaned down to add, for Orli alone, “And won’t that put a cricket in your captain’s mutton stew.” For everyone else, she said, “But for now, your people do have a lot of work to do.” She paused and turned toward Roberto. “And keeping an eye on
this
one is nearly the dragon’s share of that, I’d bet.”

“Oh, Your Majesty, you have no idea,” said Orli.

“Indeed.”

Roberto’s grin was a great sheepish thing that rounded his cheeks and nearly closed his deep brown eyes. The Queen reached up and patted one of the shining cherub bulbs. “I have my eye on you, young rogue.” Her eyes twinkled as she said it, then she turned and swept back toward the dais.

Orli finally glimpsed Altin in the group as those in the front shifted to accommodate the Queen’s return. Their eyes met, and it seemed as if another bright ray of sunlight had reflected from the crystal sphere, this time merely by the light of Altin’s joy. He made no effort to conceal his adoration, and the pure happiness that emanated from him filled her with contentment few human experiences can surpass.

What followed was a round of introductions, this count to that captain, this figure to another, handshakes, salutes and awkward bows—sometimes people who should not get them got them, sometimes those who should did not. Only the tall, sour-faced woman was put off by any of it. She was introduced as the Marchioness of South Mark. When Orli was brought before her, the marchioness’ expression was one just short of disgust. Orli was spared the brunt of her disapproval, however, for the marchioness was still in a frump about how inadequate Captain Jefferies’ bow had been. That had set her eyelids to indignant fluttering, and the contemptuousness of having to suffer such familiarity with common blanks, people without magic, like Orli and Roberto was merely an added, but minor by comparison, outrage.

The marchioness commented on the poor show of obeisance on Captain Jefferies’ part, making no effort to conceal scorn, which set the poor captain to blushing and apologizing for his mistake.

“Oh, don’t think a thing of it, Captain,” said the Queen, quick in her response and patting Captain Jefferies on the arm consolingly. She then turned back to the marchioness and said, equally willing to make a public statement on that regard, “He’s an alien. He does you great honor to make any bow at all.”

When she said it, Orli could not help but shoot a glance over at Captain Asad. A normal person would hear the Queen’s words and fathom the intent as graciousness, but Orli knew, as if by instinct, that her captain would find the menace in that particular choice of word:
alien
. Sure enough, the straight line of the captain’s mouth and the subtle, narrow-eyed nod, as if he’d just spotted the assassin in the room, were enough to confirm he’d marked the term. Orli sighed.

Only after all the higher-ups had had their turns at one another did Orli and Altin finally get to clasp hands. A formal occasion, she could not hug him as she wanted with a whole-bodied ache to do, nor could she kiss his sweet grinning face. But they could clasp hands and hold tightly to one another for far longer than propriety strictly allowed. And again, only the marchioness seemed to care.

Finally, after several minutes of loitering and getting to know one another, at least for those who cared to do as much, the Queen called a halt to the formalities. “Enough of this,” she proclaimed. “You came here to see
Citadel
. Let the tour begin.” She looked around for a moment until she spotted Altin and Aderbury standing with Orli and Roberto, the four of them laughing and making private sport. “Sir Altin, Master Aderbury, you boys spur your mounts to the lists! It is time.”

Chapter 3

A
ltin reluctantly let go of Orli’s hand and followed Aderbury through the mingling dignitaries, the two of them taking positions beneath the vast overhang of
Citadel’s
enormity. From where it rested in the grass,
Citadel
loomed high above them as if a small, transparent planet had fallen out of orbit and landed there. In the center, of course, was the huge gray block of stone, which seemed suspended in there like a thing trapped in glass, as if someone had created an old Earth snow globe with only that inside. Except for that which was blocked by the stone cube in the center, the light coming through the sphere magnified everything beyond it, and Orli could see the gentle foothills behind swelling like huge round mountains on a globular horizon line. The play of light through
Citadel
reminded her of fanciful things from times long gone, memories of an old-fashioned funhouse she’d been in once as a child, a throwback to simpler times.

After a bit of murmuring between them, with Altin apparently and most urgently trying to persuade Aderbury of something, Aderbury finally spoke. “Welcome to
Citadel
,” he said, echoing the Queen’s earlier remark. “
Citadel
is a diamond crystal sphere with an eight-hundred span diameter and magically enhanced solidity. This outer shell,” he tapped on it as he spoke, “is the armor for the fortress inside.” He pointed toward the center of the sphere where the huge gray block was. “Feel free to come have a closer look.”

Orli approached it cautiously, as did the others. She lifted a hand to touch it, but hesitated, looking to the Queen who had come to stand not too far away. Her Majesty saw her reluctance and nodded. “Go ahead. It won’t bite unless we tell it to.” A few of the captains who had been approaching stopped, and more than one stepped back. Her Majesty laughed, as did the general and the lieutenant at her side. Orli noticed the corners of Altin’s mouth twitch upward too. She grinned. Captain Asad did not.

The surface was perfectly smooth, glassy, just as it had appeared from farther away. It was warm to the touch, and as she slid her fingers along its perfect curve, she touched a portion that glimmered faintly and revealed a section that was lightly etched with curious little symbols and twisting runes. They reminded her of the hieroglyphs used by a number of ancient Earth cultures, though none exactly matched anything she could remember reading about. The symbols were set into the crystal so carefully they seemed barely more than a delicate web, a film of lace lain across it, yet she couldn’t feel them at all. When she took her hand away, they disappeared.

“What do these do?” she asked, touching the section again and bringing the rune pattern back to light. “They’re beautiful, and I bet they aren’t only there for decoration.”

“That’s a ward. There are many of them across the surface,” Altin answered, stepping to her side and hastily cutting off Aderbury’s reply—and despite his having just convinced Aderbury to take the lead giving the tour. He moved very close to Orli and winked, flashing her a smile. “That one is a light ward. It gives us control of how light moves—or doesn’t move—through the sphere.” He slid his hand up and to the left, taking a long sideways step. Another pattern lit up, this one different in shape and comprised of larger symbols than the last. “This one is a strength enhancement. It makes the diamond shell more resilient than it would be naturally. And this one is Combat Hop, which you are already familiar with, since I cast it once on your spaceship.” The last one he had to stoop and reach nearly to the ground to set alight.

“What do you mean about the light that ‘does or doesn’t’ come through?” asked Captain Asad. The captain’s posture was rigid, though he had forced an approximation of benign curiosity on his face. Altin turned to regard him and instantly recalled why he had tried to abdicate these duties to his friend.

“Just that, sir,” he said. “We can redirect or repel light as we need. Or we can let it go right through. Whatever is required in any given circumstance. That ward helps facilitate the magic so that we don’t have to have a magician ready to cast every little thing. I think it’s a lot like your ship’s computers, which also automate many things.” He concluded with a polite smile and hoped that his respectful reply would set him and the captain off on positive footing for the tour.

“So you can redirect our lasers and that sort of thing, I assume?” The approximation of benign curiosity looked as if it had been welded onto his face by a workman with only marginal competence.

“Well, I hadn’t thought about that,” Altin confessed. “I’m still not entirely sure what your lasers are—they seem more fire than light in my opinion—but I imagine it’s possible we could divert them if for some reason we needed to.”

The Queen stepped between her Galactic Mage and Captain Asad and said, laughing, “I’m sure we’ll have no need to find out. Let us move along. Master Aderbury, wrap it up out here; I’d like to get these people inside to where the real fun is.” She glanced over her shoulder as she moved to stand beside Aderbury, frowning at Altin as if he’d done something stupid. He glanced at Orli, who gave a half smile and a shrug. She’d been dealing with Captain Asad a lot longer than Altin had.

The Queen motioned for Aderbury to carry on.

“As I said,” he began again, “this outer portion is an armored shell. The fortress inside is where we do the work and where our people live. It is a solid block of melded granite, three hundred paces on a side, quarried from the deepest parts of the Pexnar quarry, which you may have noticed as you flew in. All of the blocks were cut and finished perfectly true, and I personally saw to the fusion of each and every one. There is not a single mote of air, the tiniest hairline crack or even the least bit of a chip in it anywhere, and the whole of it was put through sixty-eight days of strength enhancements before it got this diamond casing by which Altin and his crew have been so consumed these last several moons. All in all, I believe
Citadel
is indestructible, though I won’t proclaim it so, lest I tempt the gods to prove me wrong.”

“Well, I’ll call it indestructible and have no qualms about it,” said the Queen, sounding a bit impatient. “Now, that’s quite enough of the technical details, Master Aderbury. Inside, I say, inside, at once.” She snapped her fingers twice, looking at Altin. “Sir Altin, please, let us get to the chase, shall we? Seeing is divining and all that sort of thing.”

“Yes, take us inside,” Captain Asad agreed. He shot his fellow captains a look that signified they’d best remember what the admiral had said. A few of them tapped on the video feeds on their com badges, having forgotten to do so when they exited the shuttle.

Altin stepped away from Orli reluctantly and took a position behind the group, facing out into the vale. He closed his eyes and began to chant in the language of magic. His body swayed rhythmically and his hands reached out briefly into the air in front of him. A moment later a small stone building appeared in the grass behind the assembled group, a vault really, barely a foot taller than his head and at most five paces on a side. The only distinguishing characteristics were a wooden door mounted in the middle of the facing wall and a small window with its fresh-painted shutters closed up tight.

It was to the door that Altin went. He opened it and turned back to the assembled group invitingly. “Come along,” he said. “
Citadel
awaits.”

Orli and Roberto, standing nearest, did not hesitate at all, and the two of them strode through the grass intent on going inside as Altin had bidden them to do. But Captain Asad stopped them.

“Wait,” he said. “What is that?”

At first Altin seemed bewildered by the inquiry, but he figured it out almost immediately. Her Majesty spared him having to answer, however, for she pushed through the group and headed for the door. “It’s a teleportation chamber, my reluctant friend,” she explained as she passed. “It works much like those elevation devices on your ships, in which I have ridden twice as I recall.” She stepped into the small enclosure and took an oil lamp off a narrow shelf inside. She came back to the door and peered out, adding, “Jump in, the water is fine.”