THE REFORGED TRILOGY: BOOK 3 — HAMMER OF TIME
Chapter 11: Red Star, Red Sand
“Moments are but grains of sand. Life is the beach and truth is the blue ocean dancing across them.”
– Titania Cavainna (234 PA)
A’lanu didn’t survive to see Stray. She was an old woman, too sick to fly anymore. She fell down the stairs into the hold, shattering her left hip, shoulder and both wings. Xia did all she could for A’lanu, but the old fairy woman’s immune system was too ravaged by age and exposure to alien diseases to recover.
It was dangerously unsanitary to leave A’lanu’s body on the Blue Phoenix, so Xia and Panna wrapped her in a white sheet and some colorful scarves donated by the other Arcadians. She should have been buried with a circlet of birch on her head, but there was no wood on the Blue Phoenix. Panna did her best with a dried somato vine around A’lanu’s white-shrouded temples.
At Ferris’ insistence, Maeve spoke at the funeral, bidding A’lanu farewell and safe flight into Aes’ golden embrace. Maeve had to stop every couple of words to wipe her eyes. It was a short and awkward speech, but no one complained.
When Maeve finished, Gripper placed A’lanu’s body in the airlock and with a bit of instruction, Duke Ferris released the outer door. Evacuating air ruffled the shroud, and then Duaal cut the gravity and A’lanu floated gently away. Within seconds, she was just another white spot against the stars. A moment later, she was gone.
Three days after A’lanu’s funeral, The Blue Phoenix entered the Bannon system. Everyone on the ship was hungry, but according to Xia, more or less in good health considering the long and cramped flight.
Duaal called down from the cockpit to Maeve on the internal system. “We should be on Stray in a couple of hours. Where do you want me to land?”
“Gharib,” Maeve answered.
Panna and Duke Ferris were nearby — they always were these days. Panna looked up from a datadex in her hands.
“Gharib?” she asked. “Where Gavriel’s cathedral used to be?”
“Yes,” Maeve said. “But it is also a city that we know, police we can rely on to be unhelpful and where we can find Xyn. We are out of phenno now, after all.”
“Gharib it is, Queen Maeve,” Duaal said only a little bit mockingly. “I’ll have you on the ground by noon, local time.”
Their young Hyzaari captain was true to his word. The Blue Phoenix shook as it landed and dim, ruddy red sunlight streamed in through the viewports. The Arcadians crowded into the cargo bay, muttering and murmuring. Maeve stood at the top of the stairs with Logan and Duaal. Gripper looked up at her from the airlock. When Maeve nodded, he lowered the cargo ramp. A storm of white wings burst from the Blue Phoenix, thirty fairies kept too long away from the sky and eager to fly again. They filled the dingy orange sky like a flock of birds, wheeling and circling over the ship.
Duaal looked at Maeve. “Now what?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“You are the queen,” Logan said.
In case she had forgotten… Maeve resisted the childish urge to stick out her tongue. “I am not sure. What do we need first?”
“We’re on the western edge of Gharib, in the landing crescent,” Duaal said. “Not far from where we were last time, actually. We don’t have the color for landing fees, though. It’ll go unnoticed for a while, but someone will come demanding their money eventually.”
Maeve climbed over the catwalk railing and glided down to the blanket-strewn floor of the cargo hold. Everything stank of sweat. Logan and Duaal came down the stairs to meet her. Panna and Xia were with Gripper next to the airlock.
Duke Ferris stood out on the lowered ramp, stretching his wings out, but he hadn’t joined the other fairies in the sky. He squinted out over the sandy red landing field. Maeve could just make out the humped bulk of another hauler, one much larger than the Phoenix. But it was late winter on Stray — the windy season — and any more detail was obscured by dust.
Ferris came back inside, shaking a fine coat of rust-colored sand from his wings.
“Is the whole world like this?” he asked. “Covered in sand?”
“Mostly,” Gripper said. “There’s some ice at the poles and some farmable land around the equator, but the rest of Stray is all sandy desert.”
The duke looked speculative, but then he turned to Maeve and dipped his wings. He was not a young man and Maeve wondered if all the bowing hurt. Would he stop if his queen asked him to? Or was tradition even more important than royalty?
“There are other Arcadians here, a’shae,” Ferris said. “Panna has told me as much. You will want to speak to them, of course.”
“Yes, of course,” Maeve agreed sullenly. The urge to spare Duke Ferris bow-related wing pain passed.
“We will find them, Your Highness,” Ferris promised.
“Um… where should we bring them?” Panna asked. She looked between Maeve and Ferris. “It can’t be here. We’re already out of space on the Blue Phoenix. Part of the reason we came to Stray was to make a home.”
Logan had his arm around Maeve — the right one — and pulled her close to him. He was warm and smelled faintly of metal. Logan looked down at Maeve, caught her staring and smiled faintly. He already knew what she had in mind. They had discussed it several nights before, with her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder and sweat-damp hair plastered against his bare chest.
“The site of the old Nihilist cathedral,” Logan said.
Ferris did not look at the Prian. But everyone else did, mostly in confusion.
“What? No,” Panna objected. “We can’t go there!”
“We can,” Maeve said. “I think it will help. It will be… cleansing. The police collected and removed all of the evidence.”
She avoided the word bodies. It didn’t help her case at all.
“Gavriel built a large cathedral there,” Xia said in what Maeve hoped was agreement. “And had gatherings there every week or so, but nobody stopped him. Either no one owns that land or else the owner doesn’t care.”
“Sprite, you did a lot of research into the Gharib thing,” Gripper said. “Do you know? Did anyone get mad after we crashed into the church?”
“No, not that I know of,” Panna answered with a shrug. Without the extra bones of her wings, it looked almost like a human gesture. “But as far as I know, someone owns everything on Stray. It’s got to at least belong to Channik Grale’s family. That’s the Lyran man who bought the whole planet.”
“It’s not exactly a prime location,” Duaal said. “It’s off the roads and outside town. I could see forgetting about it.”
“I… guess it’s a good enough place to start,” Panna conceded.
Ferris frowned at the girl. “Ours is not to question the queen.”
“Please do question your queen,” Maeve said sourly. “She is very new to this and needs a great deal of help.”
“It seems a wise place to begin, a’shae,” Ferris said. “We will tell our people to seek you there.”
With that, he stepped out into the dim red daylight, spread his wings and soared into the sky. He circled once, singing instructions and then wheeled off in the direction of Gharib. About half of the other Arcadians followed him. The rest remained, including Malla and Hannu, who landed lightly on one of the Blue Phoenix’s wings. Maeve had not been able to hear Ferris’ orders, but suspected that the sibling’s lingering was not of their own choice.
Duaal buttoned up his silver-trimmed coat. It was beginning to look a little threadbare, but Maeve thought better of saying anything. Duaal checked his com and slid it back into his pocket.
“I’m going over to Unbreakers to see Xyn,” he told Maeve. “We need phenno and any current news about what’s been going on in Gharib. We’re flat broke, so I’m going to have to carry that phenno back. I could use a hand. Gripper?”
“Sure, captain.”
“Anyone else?” Duaal asked.
“I’ll walk into town with you, but I will be helping to bring in the Arcadians,” Panna said.
“Gharib isn’t the nicest city in the Alliance,” Xia told her. “I’ll go with you.”
“Can I go, too?” Maeve asked. She had no desire to stand uselessly around the Blue Phoenix being a figurehead for the next few hours. “To Unbreakers, I mean. I would like to give my regards to Kessa and her family, if they are still here.”
“I knew you had another reason for choosing Gharib,” Logan said. He gave Maeve a hard, icy look. “You should have told me.”
“I–” she began, but then Logan stopped her with a kiss and an awkward, unpracticed smile.
“It’s sweet,” Panna said.
“I’ll go along with Maeve. And I’m sure our escort will follow, too.” Logan jerked an illonium thumb back over his shoulder to the wing of the Blue Phoenix, where Malla and Hannu stood.
“I do not need a bodyguard,” Maeve said. She ruffled her wings in irritation.
“It couldn’t hurt to have some eyes in the sky,” Logan told her.
Maeve hated when her hunter agreed with Duke Ferris, but at least the Arcadians following her wouldn’t be treading on her wingtips. Duaal waited for everyone to make their way down the cargo ramp, then raised and sealed it behind them.
“Let’s get this done,” he said. The mage coughed and spat some red mud onto the sandy ground. “You sure know how to pick them, Maeve. Do you really want to found a new kingdom here?”
“No,” she answered. “But I fear we have no other choice.”
“Is that a command, Your Highness?”
“Yes,” Maeve said. “It is.”
Hannu and Malla exchanged a look, but then they shrugged. The pair took up positions to either side of the doors and Maeve turned back to Unbreakers. Duaal, Gripper and Logan waited at the door for her. Light from the multicolored holographic sign played over their skin. The shop’s windows were cloudy with old static sheets that were no longer doing their job very well. Dust gathered in the curling edges.
Duaal pushed the door open and they went inside. Unbreakers was, if possible, even more cluttered than it had been on their last visit. The already small store was full of precariously stacked boxes and crates full of parts and pieces of every known starship, from expensive Starwind and Narsus models to cheaper Gallex knock-offs and generic manufacturers.
A hundred ‘floor’ models sagged on orange null-fields overhead. Maeve didn’t need to duck beneath them, but all of her male companions walked stooped over like old men. Duaal slouched to the corner of the shop, where there was a long counter covered in loose nuts and bolts and dust. A black-haired young Dailon in long beige sleeves was trying in vain to sweep up the sand without sending the bits of metal flying and looked up at the sound of customers. A grin spread across their blue face.
“Maeve!”
“Kessa…?”
Maeve braced herself as the Dailon girl vaulted over the counter and threw her arms around Maeve.
No longer pregnant, Kessa had taken on the lean, androgynous look of most of her species — flat-chested and narrow-hipped. Only her large, long-lashed black eyes belied her gender. To Maeve, at least. Dailons didn’t seem to have the slightest trouble identifying their own.
Kessa released Maeve quickly and backed away, blushing a deep sapphire color.
“Sorry,” she said.
“No apologies necessary,” Maeve answered with a smile. “It is good to see you, my friend.”
Kessa returned her smile and gave the Arcadian another hug. She embraced Duaal and Gripper, too, but then looked uncertainly at Logan.
“Are… are you in trouble again, Maeve?” Kessa asked.
“Yes, but not from Logan this time,” Duaal said. “You remember Xartasia, I’m sure.”
“Oh yes.” Kessa frowned. “So she lived? What about Gavriel?”
“Oh, he survived the cathedral’s collapse, too,” Duaal said. “But Xartasia stabbed him on Prianus. That took care of the old bastard.”
Duaal’s voice was full of cold venom and Kessa’s black eyebrows rose. She looked them over again.
“Where are Xia and Captain Myles?” Kessa asked.
“Silver is out there in Gharib, looking for the Arcadians who live here,” Gripper said. His eyes welled up with tears and the Arboran tugged on his shortened left ear. “But Claws… he…”
“Tiberius is dead,” Logan said. “Gavriel killed him.”
Maeve looked up at Logan. His expression wasn’t as hard as it usually was when facing death and she remembered him at the service on Prianus. Logan had respected Tiberius Myles, maybe even liked the surly old captain. Maeve took Logan’s metal hand in hers. A silent moment passed before he felt it and gently squeezed her fingers.
“Oh, no… I’m so sorry,” Kessa said, wiping her eyes. “Captain Myles was a good man.”
“Yes, he was,” Duaal agreed. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, too, and then grinned roguishly at the Dailon. “But that’s not why we’re here. Is Xyn in?”
“Sure,” Kessa said. “He’s in the lab. Go on back.”
Duaal gestured to Gripper, who squeezed through Unbreakers to a small, box-obscured door marked Storage.
“Where is Vyron?” Maeve asked. “And Baliend? Are they well?”
“They’re at home. Actually, Vyron is usually here, but it’s his day off. And Baliend is growing like a little weed. He’s ready to start walking any day now.” Kessa glowed with maternal pride. “Are you going to be on Stray for a while?”
“Yes,” Maeve said. “We do not yet know exactly how long, but it will be some time.”
“You have to come over for dinner!” Kessa told her, clapping her dusty blue hands. “You will, won’t you? Come have dinner with us?”
Maeve nodded and hoped that Kessa didn’t notice her mouth watering.
“Damned stubborn old fool,” Xyn grumbled. He waddled to the mixer, set the timer and flipped the switch. “He was doing something stupid, wasn’t he?”
“Tiberius was buying us time,” Duaal told the fat little Ixthian man with pride. “Tiberius sacrificed himself to save all of Prianus. Maybe the whole dumb galaxy.”
“That sounds like him.”
Xyn didn’t look at Duaal, or even at the confounding alien Gripper. Instead, he paced up and down the rows of steel tables covered in beakers and test tubes and bottled chemicals. He opened a stout white refrigerator, closed it again and moved on. Eventually, Xyn returned with a green glass bottle. Using a pair of tongs, the Ixthian pried the cork free and held the wine aloft.
“You wouldn’t appreciate this, Tiberius, you sour old bastard,” Xyn said. “But rest well or fly fast or whatever you Prians do.”
He took a long drink and wiped his mouth, then held the bottle out. Gripper accepted it and took a sip. He made a face.
“This used to be grapes?” he asked. “Gross.”
But Gripper drank again, longer and deeper before passing the bottle to Duaal. “Do you have glasses?”
“Don’t push your luck,” Xyn grunted.
“We miss you, Tiberius,” Duaal said quietly. He drank.
Panna coughed. She wished she had taken Xia’s advice and brought a scarf. There was sand and dust everywhere. It was gritty on her tongue and she had to stop every few minutes to scrub it out of her eyes. How did anyone manage to breathe on Stray?
“Arcadians actually live here?” Panna asked.
Xia nodded. She had wrapped a pair of scarves around her head and face, leaving only her colorful compound eyes squinting out across Gharib.
“I’ve met a few,” she said. “We got some information from them when we brought Kessa here a year ago.”
The two women made their way down the cracked and sandy sidewalk. Cars and other pedestrians passed them by, all hurrying to get back indoors. Panna shielded her eyes and looked up into the late red and violet afternoon. A pair of Arcadians flew by overhead, but she couldn’t tell whether they were some of Queen Maeve’s.
Panna watched the winged shapes vanish into the low, brackish clouds. It was a bitter irony that it was the removal of her own wings and ear tips that had made Panna suddenly curious about her own culture. As a child, it was the only world she knew. But once she left it, when she could look in instead of out, only then did Panna begin to wonder what she had given up.
She didn’t regret the decision, but neither could she ignore the irony of it.
“How did you get caught up in all that?” Panna asked, turning her attention back to Xia. “The whole thing with Kessa, I mean.”
The tall Ixthian stepped around a human sitting in the lee of a stairwell, his head down and a hood pulled down over his face.
“I thought you read all about it,” Xia said. “You certainly seem well-educated on the issue.”
Panna nodded. “I read all of the news, sure. Everything I could find. I had no idea until then that anyone from the House of Cavain had survived and I was fascinated by the sociological implications. But none of you did interviews.”
“No one asked. It wasn’t exactly huge news.”
“So what happened, then?” Panna asked. “How did you end up bringing Kessa here?”
“Maeve and Logan found her,” Xia said. “Kessa ran into them on one of the lower levels of Axis. She was running from her gang, the Sisterhood.”
“Maeve and Logan…?” Panna asked. She squinted through the billowing dust at Xia. “Really? When I met them, they didn’t seem to care about much. Alright, that’s not true… Logan cared about finding Maeve. But not much else.”
“We were all surprised, too,” Xia said with a shrug. “But those two are the only reason we got involved in this whole thing. Even if I don’t entirely understand why.”
Panna turned up her collar against the wind. “Me too, I guess. Without them, I wouldn’t be here.”
“I thought that would have been Xen.”
Panna’s eyes stung with tears and they walked in silence for a while. A man tried to sell them bread wrapped in sheets of mycolar and Panna wished she could afford some, but the fines back on Sunjarrah had bankrupted them all. She waved him off regretfully.
“Professor Xen was why I went to Prianus,” Panna said at last. Her throat was dry and her voice seemed to stick. “I didn’t know there was a Waygate until we arrived. He was a good teacher and a good man… I guess you know that. You knew him better than I did, Xia. But if you really want to trace it back, it was my parents.”
“We can all trace our lives back to our parents,” Xia pointed out. She pulled down the scarf across her face so Panna could see that she was smiling.
“Trust an Ixthian to think I meant biology,” Panna said. She smiled, too, but not for very long. “They were so unhappy, Xia. All the Arcadians on Cyrus were. It wasn’t a bad planet and the human colonists there didn’t treat us particularly poorly. They worked any Arcadian laborers hard, but Cyrus is a farming world. Everyone worked hard.
“But that didn’t stop every fairy there from being miserable, lost. When I was a girl, I couldn’t understand why. Hells, I’m not sure I do now. Maybe I can’t. I’m not sure anyone born since the fall can truly understand that loss.”
The two women waited for a traffic light to change, then hurried across the street to a long series of empty lots, all overgrown with wiry weeds and white-green lichen. Panna followed Xia and hoped the Ixthian had some idea where she was going. They scrambled over the remains of a crumbling ashblock wall. A pack of scruffy Lyrans snarled until Xia and Panna hurried on.
“So did you ever figure it out?” Xia asked.
“Anthropology isn’t an exact science,” Panna answered. “No, not really. But it’s why I think we need Queen Maeve. Or why we would need Xartasia, if she weren’t deranged. Only a Cavainna can unite us, can give us back the sense of pride and unity we once had.”
“This isn’t just about stopping Xartasia for you, is it?”
Panna blushed and ducked her head. “Don’t misunderstand… I don’t want her to succeed in whatever she’s up to. But even without wings, I’m an Arcadian first.”
They came around a chipped and graffitied corner to a leaning light post with a flickering yellow tube. An Arcadian man wearing little more than a stained and transparent skirt slumped under it. Not provocatively, Panna thought, just tired.
Xia cocked her head. “I don’t think I met that man last time, but I’m guessing he’s in the same line of work. Let’s go talk to him about your ideals of cultural unity.”
She probably meant it as a sort of joke, but Panna’s enthusiasm was sincere as she hurried to speak to the other fairy. He looked up nervously, darting furtive looks up and down the sandy street. Panna raised her hand and called out a greeting.
“Sua cerri shae!” Panna said.
The expression on the fairy man’s face when he heard his own language was of such painful relief that it broke Panna’s heart. But he raised a dirty hand in reply.
“Sua aes’ii.”
