ESSA
Iawoke to a knock at my chamber door. It was a messenger from Natath, who bade me come in haste to meet with him and, as he termed it, the royal council.
“There is no royal council,” I told the messenger, throwing the parchment back in his face. “The royal council is appointed by the queen, and I have made no such appointments.”
The poor young fellow looked bewildered.
“Nevertheless,” I sighed. “Please let them know I will attend them at my convenience.”
Then I shut the door in his face.
I took my time, dressing and brushing out my hair with some minimal assistance from a silent Maryn, who, it seemed, was not a morning person. I sent her to the kitchen for my breakfast and finished getting ready myself. When she returned, I ate, then wrote a letter to Pocha.
When last I’d seen her, she and my Skrathan had been in retreat, leading what was left of my army out of the castle. I had no idea what had happened to them since. Hopefully, they’d been able to escape the Prelate’s trap and were holed up somewhere, awaiting my orders.
But it was just as possible that our enemies had pursued them and wiped them out.
Though if that were the case, I guessed Kortoi and Natath would probably have informed me already so they could gloat.
In any case, I had to get word to Pocha, let her know I was okay, and instruct her and the others to lie low until further orders.
They’d probably been trying to reach me for days, but Othura being locked up in that lead-lined cell prevented us from using simnal.
By my silence, my friends probably thought I was dead.
I reached the end of my letter, then paused, quill poised. Part of me wanted to share the rather insane plan that had begun to form in my mind. But the risk of putting it on paper was too much. If the message was intercepted, my game would be over before it had begun.
So, I signed the letter, sealed it, and stood, smoothing my dress.
I’d kept my enemies waiting long enough that they were probably squirming. Good.
I handed the letter to Maryn, along with a few gold coins.
“Find a messenger you trust to put this letter into the hands of one of my Skrathan lieutenants, either Lure or Pocha,” I said.
“Finding them may be difficult, but I’d recommend they begin their search on the far side of Lake Shrade, although they may have fled as far as Empra.
Tell them to see that they are not followed.
And there will be twice as much pay waiting for them if they bring back a return message. ”
Maryn bowed, accepting the letter, and departed.
As Maryn left, I saw the Natath page boy, still waiting in the hallway for me.
I decided I’d let them wait long enough, so I let the boy lead me. He brought me not to the council chamber, nor to Natath’s grand house in the city, but out of Charcain and across a debris-strewn courtyard to the dark tower of the Gray Brothers.
Just the sight of the place made my stomach boil. It rose into the sky like a crooked, pointing finger, and my hackles rose as I stepped into its shadow.
Two Brothers greeted me at the door with wordless nods.
Inside, the air was thick with cloying, sweet incense.
So many of the brothers had taken vows of silence that an uneasy quiet hung over everything like a shroud.
The brothers led me to a study, a long, narrow room lined on one side with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and on the other with windows so tall and narrow they looked surreal, as if they’d been stretched out of shape.
Every book on the shelves was bound in black leather, the silver titles on their spines written in runes I didn’t recognize.
In the center of the room, there ran two stone trenches.
One was filled with flickering fire, the other with black, still water.
Along its length, in high-backed ebony chairs, sat Kortoi, Natath, Hoatan—and Ollie.
They all rose as I entered with a screeching of chair legs.
“Your Majesty,” Kortoi said, and they all bowed.
My eyes lingered on Ollie, an accusation in my glare. He hadn’t spoken with me since our capture. Yet here he was, among these wolves?
Playing the Torzame, I told myself. Learning their minds and hearts on my behalf, of course.
But seeing him here only made the grinding anxiety I felt even worse.
“I’m sure you’re thinking that we’re here to ask for your decision on taking the crown,” Lord Natath began. “But of course…”
“I have made my decision,” I said.
This seemed to send a general ripple of alarm among the men.
Kortoi quickly stepped forward. “Before you tell us, I beg you to take a moment to let me show you something. Our friends and I have just been scrying something that you should take into consideration before making your choice. Please, sit and watch with us.”
He gestured to an empty chair next to Ollie. Grudgingly, I went to it and sat.
“Now,” Kortoi said. “Relax your eyes and your mind as you gaze into the water.”
“I know how to scry, wizard,” I spat.
“Of course,” Kortoi soothed.
As instructed, I stared down into the trench of water. The flames behind it reflected onto its surface, gyrations of light that felt almost hypnotic. And in seconds, images began to form from the chaotic reflection.
First, I saw a street filled with large, rectangular towers. Horseless necromancer vehicles—automobiles—lined the roadways, and bright signs showed above them, featuring perfume bottles, dresses, and cigarettes. I recognized it as Ironberg, across the sea.
The image focused in on a line of men and women, which ended in a building with a sign above its entrance that said recruitment center.
Then, seamlessly, the image shifted to show those same people in military uniforms being handed rifles, then crossing gangplanks onto warships.
Then, those ships were cutting through swells, crossing the sea.
“The Admites are preparing for an invasion…” Kortoi narrated, his voice low.
Next, I saw Charcain. The bodies of knights, nobles, and commoners alike littered the courtyard like carrion as an Admite flag was hoisted over the battlements.
“In our divided state, they will lay waste to our defenses,” Kortoi said. “Our kingdom will fall…”
The image shifted again to show a fleet of silver-hulled boats crossing the water, their many sails full and bright in the sun.
“But there is hope. We have been in touch with the Sylph Lord in Koratain, and he has graciously offered to lend his assistance in repelling the coming invasion. Even now, his armada is beginning its journey here. He is open to an alliance. But he will not parley with anyone save Maethalia’s rightfully crowned queen. ”
In the water, the images faded, leaving only the reflection of flames once more.
“Not to put too fine a point on it,” Natath said, “but our only hope is that you would join with us and accept the throne. Without the Sylph Lord’s help, we’re finished.”
“Assuming we believe the visions of deceitful void-monsters…” I said.
Kortoi gave a low chuckle. “As you know, scrying visions are always true, or at least, they are one of many possible truths—but they are not always well-interpreted. You’re quite correct that the interpretation of visions requires wisdom, and…”
“I understand scrying,” I said again, growing impatient.
“No one is better at interpreting scrying visions than Prelate Kortoi, Your Majesty,” Hoatan said.
Kortoi smiled. “Exactly what I was about to say. Thank you for preserving my modesty and saying it for me.”
They smiled at one another. Their self-satisfaction made me want to vomit.
I looked to Ollie. “You’ve been so quiet, Ollie. What say you?”
Ollie’s gaze was still on the water. At this, he glanced at me, an almost sheepish expression on his smooth-shaven face.
“The crown is your birthright, Essa. Even if the Sylph Lord weren’t coming, even if the safety of the whole kingdom didn’t depend on it—of course you must take it.
For the people, for yourself. For all of us.
Look, candidly, I know you fear being made a puppet.
But I have been talking with these men. I believe they are capable of collaboration.
And if you walk away—what then? Will you try to build up your forces again?
Attack Charcain again—even as the Admites cross the sea to slaughter us all?
What sense is there in that? Killing one another only leaves fewer of us for the Admites to defeat.
Divided, there is nothing ahead for us but death. But united… we may have a chance.”
He finished with a smile that I’m sure was meant to be reassuring.
“Well said, my boy…” Hoatan said softly, tapping his knuckles on the arm of his chair.
I let their words settle into silence. They all eyed me warily, waiting for what I would say next. I let them stew for a long moment, exerting my power by making them wait for my answer. Then, at last, I nodded.
“Very well. I will heed the words of my wise Torouman. Schedule my coronation. I will accept my crown.”
There was a moment of stunned silence as the men took in my words.
“And the bydrune?” Natath’s eyes bored into mine, his eagerness for power and his lust betraying themselves in the way he leaned forward, eager as a wolf looming over its prey.
“I accept the bydrune as well,” I said coldly. “In fact, I look forward to it.”