THE REFORGED TRILOGY: BOOK 3 — HAMMER OF TIME
Chapter 22: Black as Night
“Love doesn’t overlook flaws. It helps you correct them.”
– Xia (233 PA)
“You flew with a head injury?”
Duaal winced at the sound of Xia’s scolding.
“Just a little,” he protested. “Bherrosi isn’t that far away. And the ship’s com was uh… slightly broken.”
“I should have been there with you,” Xia said. She examined the medbay computer screen. “We could have waited until I finished with the inoculation cycle. Luckily, you don’t seem to have done any serious damage. You have a very hard skull, Duaal.”
“Don’t I know it?” he answered with a groan. “This whole thing really backfired on me. We were supposed to keep Anthem out of Maeve’s hair for a week, but now we’re back early and with two of her knights dead.”
“I told you to leave that alone,” Xia said.
Duaal ignored her.
“Did Logan manage to get that crown off Maeve while we were gone?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so. Gripper says when Maeve isn’t running Kaellisem, Ferris is having her work on some sort of… show.”
“Damn it.” Duaal examined the Ixthian’s work in a small mirror. The cut along his scalp was gone and the bruise already fading to a yellowish brown. “We’ll just have to try harder. Nice work, Xia. I’ll be back to my handsome self in no time.”
Xia sighed and turned away, gleaming metal instruments in her silver hands. They clattered into the sink, bouncing off one another and nearly out of the shallow basin. Duaal slid off the cold exam table and put his hand on Xia’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I should have been there with you,” Xia said again. “Maybe I could have–”
“You can’t be everywhere,” Duaal told her. “You can’t, Xia. You stayed because the Arcadians here need you. They’ve never had a doctor. And we needed you to stay close to Maeve. She’s the key to everything we’re trying to do here. If she dies, Xartasia wins.”
“Maeve is fine,” Xia said. She stared down into the sink with red eyes. She took a deep breath. “At least, her body is. There’s nothing I can do for all of the other stuff she’s going through. But people are dead because I–”
“You couldn’t have known what was going to happen in Bherrosi,” Duaal told Xia gently. “And you can’t go back and change it. Don’t break your heart over what could have been.”
Xia sighed again, but the sound was more resigned this time. Her compound eyes shifted rapidly through a rainbow of colors.
“You’ve grown up so much,” Xia told him. “You’re a good man, Captain Sinnay.”
Duaal turned away to cover his blush and laughed.
“Don’t tell anyone,” he said. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”
Xia sat at the kitchen table, reading the news and ignoring the clinking and crashing from the kitchen as her daughter dropped another cup. Xas’ new skin had not entirely hardened yet and the soft spots were slippery. She would have to learn how to deal with it. After all, the girl had four more molts before reaching her adult size.
The front door slid open and then shut with a pair of hydraulic hisses. Xia looked up from the computer screen.
“Good evening, love,” she said. “How were classes today?”
“Successful,” Xen told her as he came around the corner. He hung his coat on the rack and carried a large datadex to the dinner table. “How are the larvae?”
“Successful,” Xia answered with a smile. “For the most part. Xas is trying to do the dishes.”
“Can’t you get Xol or Xid to help?” her husband asked.
Xia shrugged. “Xas needs to figure out for herself when she needs help and ask for it. Pride isn’t a very useful trait.”
Xen nodded in agreement. “I suppose not. You’re as wise a mother as you ever were a doctor.”
“I was an excellent doctor,” Xia pointed out.
“And now you’re an excellent mother.”
“I could have been both.”
Xen picked up his datadex and turned it on with a flick of his finger. “Unless you want to trust the upbringing of our children to someone else, one of us needs to be available to them. I would be happy to take up your position, if you like.”
“No,” Xia answered. “My superior size, patience and medical knowledge make me the better choice.”
“Until adolescence. When schooling becomes a major factor, and my experience at Poes Nor changes things, we’ll renegotiate.”
“Agreed,” Xia said.
There was another crash from the direction of the kitchen and then the sharp scent of anger. Xas knew better than to swear in her mother’s house, but the young Ixthian couldn’t help the rush of chemical language. Not yet, at least. Another thing she would have to learn. It was not only Ixthians who could understand those smells, but the Lyra and Dailons. If Xas really wanted to become a politician — that was the girl’s ambition this week — she would have to school not only her verbal habits, but her silent ones as well.
“A new student has just transferred into my two-ten class,” Xen said suddenly.
“Now?” Xia asked. “It’s halfway through the semester.”
Xen shrugged, not looking up from his datadex. He was a proficient multitasker, a trait he had made sure to pass along to their offspring.
“I warned her and even gave her the opportunity to take the test next week,” Zen said. “But she finished today and scored in the top percentile.”
“Did she transfer from a similar course at another college?”
“No,” Xen told Xia. His long antennae waved rhythmically as he read. “She came straight from Cyrus.”
“The farming colony?” Xia asked. “The human one?”
“Yes. I was surprised, as well. Humans usually can’t keep up with my advanced courses, but this one seems to be an exception.”
“You’ll have to see if she will agree to a redprint,” Xia said. “I would be curious to take a look.”
“So would I,” Xen agreed.
“What’s this brilliant girl’s name?”
“Elsa De Marn.”
Maeve shook her head and recentered the slippery glass crown atop her black hair.
“Please, do not let the numbers concern you,” she said. “You and Sir Anthem brought back plenty of Bherrosi sands… and at far too high a price.”
“Yes,” Panna agreed in a soft voice. The wingless girl’s eyes were rimmed in red.
“The fault for that lies with me, my queen,” Anthem said. The knight was on one knee, his wings pressed to the sandy ground in a gesture of utter subservience. “I am sorry.”
“It is not your fault,” Maeve told her consort. “Now get up! I have read a dozen accounts of what happened in Bherrosi, Anthem, and only your own report blames you. Ballad, in fact, takes responsibility for the whole thing, as well.”
“Ballad was only assigned daytime duties for guarding against–” Anthem began, but Maeve raised her hand and the knight fell instantly silent. There were some benefits to being queen.
“Enough,” she told him and then turned to Panna. “I have not gotten to your report yet. Please, tell me whether any of my knights are to blame for this tragedy.”
“No, they’re not,” Panna said. “None of the living ones, at least. The man who led the attack said that someone had stolen from him and Syle found some money on Cyrene. That seems to be what started all of this.”
Maeve nodded. Anthem had gathered all twenty-two of his remaining knights in the flat red northern field, along with the white-wrapped bundles of their dead. Ferris had already flown away to take care of the funerary details, for which Maeve was grateful. She raised her wings.
“Sir Anthem,” she said. “Stand forward.”
Anthem stood and stepped forward. His dark eyes were not red like Panna’s, but remained downcast. He held his spear point-down, the ribbons trailing in the dust. He truly was ashamed. After all Maeve had admitted to him, after she had shouted at him and sent him away to Bherrosi, Anthem Calloren was actually sorry that he had disappointed her. Maeve reached out and touched her fingertip to the knight’s cheek. He raised his eyes to Maeve’s.
“No knight can win all battles,” she told him. “No matter how bravely fought — especially those begun from within. Fight for me and for Kaellisem as you have, Sir Anthem, and I will be forever proud. You are master of my knights and my heart, now and ever.”
Maeve was rather proud of the little speech. She hadn’t even asked for Panna’s help with it. But Maeve could not help a glance behind her, to where Logan Coldhand stood his daytime vigil over Kaellisem’s queen. His expression was stony. If Maeve’s politic endearment bothered the Prian hunter, she couldn’t tell.
Maeve returned her attention to the assembled knights. “Ballad, come here.”
The young Prian fairy approached slowly. He was still wearing his black leather, but Maeve was sure that some of the deep slashes in the battered jacket were new. Ballad went down on one knee, as Anthem had.
“I’m so sorry, my queen–” he said.
“Enough,” Maeve told him. She was tired of apologies. They did not bring back the dead. “You have done no wrong, Ballad Avadain. By all counts, you fought hard and honorably for the safety of our people and your fellow knights.”
“Cyrene and Sellesian died,” Ballad said.
“We cannot save everyone. Not yet. Are you arguing that with your queen?”
“No,” Ballad said and then blushed, correcting himself. “I mean, not anymore. I’m done now.”
“Good,” Maeve said. “Now, if you insist upon some punishment, I will grant it. Sir Anthem, give me your spear.”
Anthem dusted his weapon clean and held it out haft first to Maeve. She took the spear with a sudden rush of excitement. Gods, how long had it been since Maeve held her own? Since she wore armor? Not since her coronation… Maeve spun the spear, bringing the gleaming blade around to point at the kneeling Ballad.
“By the grace granted to me by Erris All-Singer and the first of our order, Anslin Sky-Knight,” Maeve declared, touching the spear’s glass blade to the crest of Ballad’s right wing, “you are now a royal knight. Rise, Sir Ballad.”
Ballad jumped up and spread his wings, sweeping the right one across to his shoulder. His eyes were bright.
“I will not fail you, my queen!” Ballad said.
Maeve still held the spear leveled at him. “You are the first Arcadian to be knighted since the fall of our kingdom. In Kaellisem, at least. I cannot say who my cousin may have raised up. But a great burden falls to you, Sir Ballad. Thousands of years of glory and responsibility lives again with you. Be strong. Be great.”
“Yes, a’shae!”
Despite the gravity of the moment, Maeve smiled helplessly at Ballad’s enthusiasm. Reluctantly, she returned the spear to Anthem.
“Have Hyra make Ballad’s armor,” she instructed. “And for your other students, too.”
“It will set back our other glass orders, Majesty,” Anthem said.
Maeve stopped smiling. “I know. But see it done. I will not send my knights into more danger without armor. Perhaps if Sellesian and Cyrene had theirs, they may have lived.”
“Yes, my queen,” Anthem said.
“You knighted Ballad?” Ferris gasped. “The Prian boy with no hair and the skin jacket?”
“It was more armor than anyone but Sir Anthem wore in Bherrosi,” Maeve told the duke. “It may well have saved his life. And yes, I did. He is well suited to knighthood. Ballad is loyal and an able combatant.”
“Your Majesty, he fights with his hands!” Ferris protested.
“And did our spears save us from the Devourers, Your Grace?”
Maeve stalked across the glass balcony to Duke Ferris, his withered hand against the tower wall as though the shock of it all might send him toppling into the street below. The hot wind tugged at her long black hair.
“Our enemies are no longer a few feral beasts or angry dryads,” Maeve said. “Nor even the coreworlders who so despise us! Do not forget what I first told you on Sunjarrah, Ferris. What I do now, I do to fight Xartasia, the Devourers and our own people who have joined them. If we are to win that battle, we cannot fight with spears alone. These are weapons that have already failed against the Devourers. We need knights like Sir Ballad.”
Duke Ferris stood up straight. “If we give up all of our ways, my queen, we have given up ourselves! What then remains to fight for?”
“We are not fighting for ourselves,” Maeve told him. “The White Kingdom is already lost, and has been for a century. We fight for everyone else, for the scattered survivors. We fight for the Alliance, so that they will not face the terrible losses that we have.”
“Yes, my queen,” The old fairy duke answered stiffly. “If you will excuse me, the enassuanii have final preparations to discuss. It has clearly been a long and trying day for you. I should see to them on my own.”
It was barely noon, but Maeve sighed and nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace. Please tell the enassuanii that I am sorry to miss them and that I eagerly await their performance tomorrow night.”
Ferris spread his wings, inclined his head and leapt up into the sky. He wheeled once around the red and gold royal tower and then soared away across Kaellisem. Maeve watched him go and took a deep breath. The hot, dry air smelled acridly of dust. It always did… Maeve almost didn’t notice anymore. Almost.
Maeve went back inside, where Logan Coldhand and her handmaidens awaited her in the shifting ruby light. Verra hurried to offer lunch, but Maeve wasn’t hungry and waved the girl off. Dain stood quietly in the corner, dusting the queen’s armor. Logan raised one dark blond eyebrow.
“Ferris wasn’t happy about Ballad,” he said.
“You heard that?” Maeve asked. She combed fingers through her hair, ruining another one of Verra’s delicate braids. “The venerable duke shall just have to deal with my decision. I doubt that my appointment of Sir Ballad will tear Kaellisem apart.”
“Probably not,” Logan agreed. “The Arcadians have never had a civil war.”
Maeve smirked at him. “You have become very knowledgeable in our history, my hunter.”
“Panna’s been able to answer most of my questions.”
“She knows far more about my kingdom than I do. I have never been suited to my own blood! But the color of my hair condemns me to the throne…” Maeve pulled off her crown and then stared at the delicate circlet of glass. “No, Arcadians have not fought each other in ten thousand years. But my own ancestor wiped out the pyrads for less purpose than we have now. We can fight, Logan. We will fight.”
“If Kaellisem has half your ferocity, dove, it will be a short fight,” Logan said.
Maeve thought that she saw a tiny smile on the Prian’s face. But when she looked up, it was gone. On the other side of the room, Dain was singing to herself as she worked. Verra returned with the lunch Maeve had not asked for and began asking the queen what she wanted to wear to the enassui the next night.
