Chapter 7 #2
Odelle glanced around the grove. “Perhaps we should return to the serekah and let the queen and her court clothe themselves in something more decent—”
“Your people cannot remain in Kreah.” Natia’s sharp interruption pierced the trees. “They must leave. Immediately.”
Mariah frowned. “Unfortunately, I can’t do that.” She glanced at Odelle. “And thanks for your concern, but I think we’re quite comfortable out here.”
The Elder flushed, glancing away.
Natia’s eyes flashed. “We have been gracious enough to welcome you and your court to our country when you fled and had nowhere else to go. But this, Queen, is a blatant abuse of that hospitality.”
Her words stung Mariah, pierced her down to her core. Because she knew there was truth to it. Mariah had run. She’d let herself be driven from her country, giving it up to the monsters who wanted to take it from her. But she refused to let it show.
“What sort of queen would I be,” Mariah said, “if I were to seek safety and comfort while leaving my people to whatever fate awaits them?”
Natia’s lip curled back from her teeth. “A wise one. A diplomatic one.”
Mariah tsked. “Diplomacy isn’t a strong suit, I’m afraid. And as you said—I’m young. A child. How could anyone possibly expect me to be wise?”
Gods, she was only making this all so much worse.
The aching numbness in her chest made her not care.
“Your Majesty,” Odelle said, her expression now more than a little wary. “We understand your plight and sympathize with you. But Kreah cannot support refugees of this volume. This will place a strain on us that we cannot bear.”
Mariah’s fingers twitched, wishing for magic she could no longer reach or feel.
“Just so I understand,” she said, her voice deadly soft, “Kreah takes no issue with sending its children abroad to other nations, expecting those countries and kingdoms to welcome them gladly. But you will not welcome refugees fleeing darkness and evil into your own?”
“We do accept refugees. You yourself are one of them, Your Majesty.” Odelle’s kindness was slipping away, replaced by something firm. The face of the Elder, not the diplomat. “But we cannot accept thousands at once.”
Mariah scoffed. “Amasis thinks otherwise. Arrangements for my people have already been made.”
The Elders stilled, confusion flickering across their faces.
“What do you mean,” Imri said slowly, “that Amasis thinks otherwise?”
A deep growl tore through the grove. The Elders whirled. Kiira and Rylla pushed past Mariah, shock flaring across their similar faces.
A tiger and a lioness, massive and snarling, stalked down the winding path through the acacias. Blue light flashed, bright against the shadows of the trees. In their place stood a familiar man and woman, their faces set in furious scowls.
“Ambassador Enoch!” Mariah couldn’t hold back her surprised welcome. The man glanced at her, some of his fury falling away, and he bowed his head with dignified reverence.
“It is an honor to see you again, Your Majesty,” said the Kreah Ambassador to Onita—and Kiira and Rylla’s father—in his low rumble. “Though, I regret that it must be under such circumstances.”
“It’s great to see you too, Ambassador.” Mariah shared a grim smile with his wife, Satya.
“What are you doing here, Enoch?” Natia stared down the bridge of her nose at the newest arrivals, coldness lining every inch of her angular features.
All hints of Enoch and Satya’s good humor fell away. “We are here to speak in defense of Queen Mariah and the Onitan refugees. To urge this Council to allow them to stay.”
“You have no voice on this Council, Enoch. Not anymore. I represent our ksetra now, not you.”
Natia’s tone was bristled. A sheen of sweat that had nothing to do with the beating sun glistened on her brow. There was a history between her and Enoch—something political and bitter.
“I am Kreah,” Enoch snarled. “I will always have a voice, whether this Council deigns to hear it or not.”
“This Council hears you, Enoch.”
Mariah willed her face to remain still as relief swept through her. Amasis appeared on the path, brushing past Enoch and Satya. Their posture was regal, their vivid eyes bright as they swept over the gathered Elders.
“I must say, colleagues—the grove is an odd place for a Council meeting.” They glanced at Mariah, noting her and her Armature’s bare skin. “Perhaps we would be more comfortable if we continued this conversation inside and allowed the queen a moment to get dressed—”
“You mean a moment for her to prepare some scripted answer that will do little to address our actual concerns?” Natia spat. “No. We deal with this here. I, for one, am glad I got the chance to meet the queen in such a”—something vile glimmered in her eye as she glanced again at Mariah— “state.”
It took every bit of control in Mariah not to hurl her dagger into the Elder’s chest. Probably wouldn’t help the situation. Even though it couldn’t get much worse.
Imri took a step forward before Mariah could respond. “Not all actions of this Council must be approved by you, Amasis,” the Elder said. “And the threat at the border must be dealt with immediately.”
Amasis smiled coldly. “Indeed, you are correct. But tell me, what is this threat at the border?”
“We know, Amasis. We know of the Onitans. We know you have, for whatever reason, allowed them to stay.”
Odelle brushed a strand of hair from her cheeks. “We would never approve something so brash, High Counsellor. We simply want to resolve all confusion now, before—”
“I did allow the Onitans to stay, Odelle. I have given them permission to use our military supply to construct temporary housing outside of Desva. They will arrive here in two days.”
The desert breeze whistled through the boughs of the acacias.
“You cannot be serious, Amasis.”
“I am very serious, Miron.” Amasis’s voice was colder than Mariah had ever heard it. Her heart pounded faster, her skin itching beneath the heat of the sun.
Was she—were the Onitans—worth all this? After all they’d done, all the harm they’d caused to people, all the women and girls they’d kept weak.
Were they even worthy of Amasis’s loyalty?
“When Callamus arrived with Mariah’s Court, we agreed as a Council to welcome and support the Onitan Queen in whatever she might need.
At the very least, the warnings of the gods must be heeded.
Under that direction, I swore to Mariah that Kreah would aid her.
When she asked for this, duty bound me to oblige.
” Amasis hesitated, adjusting the golden rings on their fingers.
“And it is not the Kreah way to abandon those people. We are a nation that gives and welcomes; we do not shun our neighbor at the door.”
“We are also a nation that survives in a desert with limited water, food, and resources!” Natia snarled. “What will this do to our stores, Amasis? How will our people suffer because of the rash decision-making of a young, untested queen?”
Not Mariah’s decision. Annoyance again surged through her at Priam. She stepped forward. “Stop talking about me as if I’m not standing right here.” She lifted her chin.
“I can swear now that my people will not be a burden on yours. I don’t intend for them to remain here indefinitely. We will return to Onita as soon as the time is right.”
Natia scoffed. “When ‘the time is right.’” Her eyes narrowed. “Tell me, Queen. What if that time is never right? What if the evil plaguing your land cannot be quashed?”
“Well, Elder,” Mariah said. “If you think that evil will stay contained to Onita, then you vastly underestimate its source.”
Zalam sniffed. “Kreah can defend itself. We always have.”
“Not from this.”
Another roar boomed over the grove. A shadow cast over them, blotting out the sun. Wind gusted from great wingbeats.
Two dragons descended from the skies.
Took them long enough.
Rulene and Callamus dived for the grove, and for a moment it looked like they would crash into the trees.
At the last second, they gave mighty beats of their wings, sending the sands up in great flurries.
Everyone shielded their eyes, Mariah just catching the flashes of sky blue and indigo light as the gods shifted.
They landed gracefully on two feet, striding through the trees.
Though they now looked human, something about them was unleashed in a way Mariah hadn’t yet seen.
Their power rippled off them in waves, dangerous and eternal and unfathomable.
Rulene’s dark skin glowed with the magnetic force of change, her blue hair rippling and changing color as quickly as the skies themselves would shift.
Callamus was her inverse in every way, night-pale skin draining all sunlight around him, the unending galaxies in his eyes twinkling.
In this moment, there was no mistaking who—what—they were. Guardians of nature, crafted to hold and embody the day and night sky themselves.
Enoch and Satya dropped instantly to their knees, heads bowed nearly to the sands. Even the Elders couldn’t resist the beings before them, though they followed more slowly, averting their eyes from the gods.
“Eternal Ones,” Odelle whispered, her voice trembling. “We are honored by your presence. We are not worthy.”
Coldness seeped from Rulene. “No. I suppose you are not.”
Mariah worried that Odelle might be sick, right there at the gods’ feet.
“Stand. We are not here for reverence. We are here for resolution,” Callamus rumbled into the heavy air.
Slowly, shakily, the Elders stood. The blood was still drained from their faces, their eyes wide with shock and horror and just a hint of terror.
Enoch and Satya wore expressions of absolute awe—not a trace of fear to be found.
Mariah bit her cheek to swallow her smile.