CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
C HAPTER F ORTY- T HREE
Ruby alights from her horse and curses.
It has been an age since horseback has rendered her quite as limp. Her thighs tremble as she walks, passing the reins to the stable hands with breathless thanks.
“Captain,” comes a voice from the shadows.
Curse the Mother. She should have returned hours before, as dawn broke. But those that had survived the journey through the Chasm were in no shape to swim through the ocean’s current at its end. They were forced to wait until the tide receded enough that they could wade through, and even that had threatened to thwart a few of the weakest.
Now, night has fallen, and the voice that beckons her is unlikely to allow her to find a bed, as much as her body requires it.
Ruby follows the voice to the back of the stables – stables that smell strongly of shit but serve to provide some privacy.
“Cressida,” Ruby says grimly. “This can likely wait till morning.”
“No, Ruby,” the Queen Consort snaps. “It cannot.”
It is a quite a sight to see the woman here at all, much less cloaked in dark grey. Gone are the brilliance and opulence of her finer clothes.
“Are they safe?” Cressida asks first, a hint of stress in her voice. “The Ledge people?”
Ruby grimaces, her throat stricken. “Of the ones that remain, I expect many will recover, yes.”
“Of the ones that remain ?”
“They were near death when we caught up to them,” Ruby says. “Taken by a strange illness. Some did not make it much further.”
Cressida curses in a way that seems unnatural. Ruby is sure she has never heard Her Majesty curse. “The Glacians are coming.”
Ruby blanches. She reels back a step. “ Now? ”
“Tomorrow, or the next day, perhaps,” Cressida spits. “I can hold them off no longer. They are impatient.”
“Fuck,” Ruby mutters, running her hands through her filthy hair. “ Fuck. ”
“So, no, we cannot wait,” Cressida answers. “The Queen’s Jubilee will be held tomorrow morning. I will make the announcement then.”
Ruby stares at her, dumbfounded. “At the Jubilee? ”
“Was it not your idea to ‘lead them into the dragon’s den’ so to speak? What better way to corner Alvira than by announcing the return of our lost ones while all are gathered beneath her balcony?”
“You’ll be executed,” Ruby breathes. “This is not the plan.”
“The plan has been escalated,” Cressida says evenly. “You will ready yourself for it. Even if we are lucky and the Glacians await the celebrations to be over, Alvira will have very little time to change her tune and align it with ours. Even if she cedes to the call of her people, time will be needed to rally. You will need to ready the battalions.”
“I am no longer their captain.”
“You will be so again,” Cressida says forcefully. “And when the Glacians come, you will be ready to fight them off.”
Ruby feels a splinter of panic within, cracking her resolve. “It won’t be enough,” she breathes, remembering her time in Glacia, the sheer number of them.
Cressida’s eyes darken. “It is too late to bow out now, Ruby,” she says icily. “You gave me your word.”
Ruby only shakes her head. “We will need to evacuate the Mecca. The Glacians will come for them if they cannot reach the Ledge-dwellers.”
“There will not be time. Are the survivors waiting in the Fallen Village?”
“Yes. Like sheep for slaughter.”
“How many guard them?”
“Twenty.”
Cressida huffs. “I will send more to them tonight. As many as I can allow without Alvira becoming wise to it. We must hope the Glacians do not arrive sooner.”
Ruby almost laughs, the circumstances are so dire. “We must hope their number does not decimate us entirely. Or this plan will only lead to the slaughter of all.”
A rustle sounds from behind them.
Ruby turns, reaching for her sword. “Who’s there?”
“There are others who can be called upon,” a quiet voice says. From out of the shadows, steps Yennes. “Those who will be willing to fight.”
“The iskra witch,” Cressida hisses, then turns to Ruby. “Are you not able to tell when you are being followed ?”
“How much did you hear?” Ruby asks, holding her sword in line with the woman’s chest.
Yennes hesitates, her hands moving skittishly. “All of it.”
It will be difficult to kill and dispose of her, Ruby knows, but there seems to be little other choice. The woman is a puppet, and Alvira has always grasped the strings.
“That’s unfortunate,” Ruby mutters.
“I only wish to help.” Yennes watches the sword tip warily. “Please. I swear it.”
“What do you mean, there are others ?” Cressida asks abruptly. “Speak plainly, witch.”
Yennes bites her lip. “The mixed-blooded Glacians,” she says.
“The mixed-blooded have seized control of Glacia, imbecile,” Cressida snaps. “It is them we must now fight.”
“No,” Yennes says shaking her head. “No, I know them.”
“You knew them,” Cressida corrects. “Many years have passed since, Yennes.”
“The ones I saw in the palace didn’t lament those left on the Ledge,” Ruby confirms. “Why would they turn on Adrik, and help to save them now?”
“Because they are not our enemy,” Yennes says forcefully, more forcefully then either Cressida or Ruby have ever heard her speak. “And if someone else has taken rule of Glacia and that fucking pool, there will be those who wish against it. Those who will do anything to be rid of it for good.”
“Be rid of it?” Cressida asks. “It cannot be done.”
Yennes sighs, hesitates. And Ruby senses something banking up in the silence. A mounting swell. A shudder in the constellations. Yennes finally releases a gust of breath. “There is a way,” she says, “And I can trade the knowledge for the Colony’s allegiance in this fight.”
Ruby only stares, stunned, her sword tip hitting the ground.
Yennes continues, as though she hadn’t just split the sky above them, poured its secrets to the earth. “They will agree. I am sure of it.”
Cressida’s breaths are hushed. “Do you speak truthfully?” she utters. “Do you truly know how to destroy the Pool of Iskra?”
Yennes seems to shrink as she answers. “I do.”
“How could you possibly?” Ruby exhales.
“I knew its maker,” Yennes says simply. “And she showed me the way. We only need the one with means to see it through.”