I woke in the morning from a long, deep sleep, surprisingly refreshed and filled with a sense of well-being. Sleepily, I reached for Rayfe… His side of the bed was cold and empty. Memory flooded back, and that brief moment of peacefulness shattered under the deluge of emotion. My eyes prickled with tears, the sting reminding me of how swollen they already were from the previous evening’s torrent of angry grief.
Enough of that. I’d shed tears enough to last a lifetime and my mountain of problems remained just as high.
Turning onto my back, I gazed up at the mosaic ceiling over the bed, the colors bright even in the dawn shadows. Tropical fish of many varieties swirled in clear aqua currents, exactly the shades of the sea on the journey to the Heart of Annfwn. Some ancient artisan’s magic had infused the tiles with the illusion of motion. I’d lain here often in Rayfe’s arms, gazing at the scene, noticing new elements every time.
Without his reassuring presence, I felt more than ever like an echo of my mother. I could picture her, as vividly as in a vision, lying in this bed, staring at this same ceiling in loneliness and despair, seeking a way out of the coiling maze of future doom. How could it be that, more than three decades later, we’d come no closer to finding a way out of that maze? Indeed, we’d only gotten lost deeper in the bowels of it.
I thrust that image away, clearing my mind. The day ahead would be grueling. Moranu grant me at least the questionable peace of only the most relevant images. As if summoned by my prayer, a vision flooded my mind of a regal blond woman with striking aqua eyes the same shade as the shallows of the mosaic sea. Surrounded by tropical greenery and a landscape painted on the walls, she wore a kingdom’s wealth of jewels and a klút of vividly embroidered silk. The style of her traditional Dasnarian garb and the location indicated that she must be in the seraglio of the Imperial Palace.
She curtseyed deeply to another woman, much older, with elaborately styled hair so pale as to appear white. Though the bones of her face spoke of a once-extraordinary beauty, unhappiness and cruelty had carved itself into the older woman’s face. Cruel lines bracketed her mouth as she sucked on an enameled pipe, smoke wafting out of her flaring nostrils, making her look more than a little like a dragon. The aqua-eyed woman straightened and spoke to her elder, calling her Dowager Empress Hulda, and promised to see her will done.
She rose and glided away with the same tutored grace Karyn displayed. Another blonde, who’d been standing back, face demurely lowered, raised her head. They were clearly sisters, though the second woman’s hair was a much deeper bronze, and her large eyes were golden brown. “What does Hulda want now?” she asked.
The aqua-eyed woman glanced back, walked a bit farther, then inclined her head to the other. “It seems Hestar’s bid to marry Harlan’s queen has failed.”
“Surprising no one. Jepp said they loved each other. No woman Harlan loves would betray him by marrying another.”
“And yet, arguably unwise of her.”
“You did warn her.”
“Yes, and now I must send a new warning.”
“I’ll ask Akamai to meet us for tea. But you still haven’t said why Hulda summoned you.”
The aqua-eyed blonde glanced back once more, then around them where children splashed in a tiled lagoon and an elderly woman reclined on pillows, smoking another pipe as Hulda had. She lowered her voice further. In the way of visions, though, when I could hear anything, I heard every word. “She wanted me to tell Kral that his time has nearly come. I’m to summon him home.”
The sister took a breath. “Will you?”
“What choice do I have? It’s my place to obey.” Her smooth voice revealed no emotion.
“But will Kral obey?” the darker blonde asked with a crafty smile that the other echoed.
“We shall see,” the elder sister allowed. “And we shall be very careful of our phrasing.”
The vision receded as gently as it had arrived, and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least no death and horror—only unsettling information. The sky had brightened and cries of sea birds echoed from the water, along with the calls of people in human and animal form. A null space crossed the southern border of Annfwn, followed by a second. Zynda and Djakos, on their way. Which meant I couldn’t loll in bed any longer.
Getting up, I stretched, still feeling the effects of yesterday’s fight, along with a faint twinge in my injured hip as I moved into the bathing chamber. I looked awful, my face puffy and eyes even more swollen than they’d felt from my prodigious weeping the night before. This morning that definitely called for the shapeshifting shortcut to personal grooming. Concentrate. Focus. I shifted into my First Form, the lion, taking a moment to settle into it. Then, with meticulous care, I shifted back to myself, holding firm in my mind how I should look in human form.
Tala children drilled in this—one of the skills they practiced in the once-safe training arena—until they were able to return to a groomed form out of habit. What they were able to do without a second thought, I had to carefully think through, as if shapeshifting would forever be a second language for me.
I supposed it was—and having a second language was better than only one, or none at all.
The woman who faced me in the mirror looked considerably better, hair flowing unsnarled, face smooth and eyes bright, showing no sign of the ravages of emotion. Since I’d be playing queen more than sorceress in the coming hours, I exchanged the simple shift I’d taken human form wearing for a more formal gown. Nothing like what my ladies used to garb me in when I was a princess, the dress was nevertheless fancier than most Tala clothing. In a deep red that looked black in the shadows, it fit closely enough in the bodice not to hamper my movements, then flowed into a long, full skirt.
Spurred by the conversation of the night before, I dug Salena’s ruby necklace out of my jewel chest and donned it. If the gems truly contained helpful magic I could use against Deyrr, I’d be a fool not to take advantage of them. It struck me then, how exactly they matched the bloodred cabochon ruby in my wedding ring. I held up my hand, moving it so the stone gleamed in the early morning light. In an elegantly carved setting of Moranu’s shining silver, the smooth, convex surface of the ruby looked nearly black—until it caught the light just right, and the intense scarlet depths flared to life.
It suited me—and reminded me of myself, someone who had always appeared to be unspectacular, but with hidden depths. That was no doubt vain of me to see the jewel and myself that way, but I’d kind of thought that Rayfe had seen the parallel and chosen the ring for that reason.
Now I realized that this ring, too, came from the Queen’s jewelry collection. As king, Rayfe would’ve had access to it, and it made perfect sense for him to have given it to me, the woman he’d married to bring back and serve as Queen of the Tala.
What other ring would have been appropriate?
And yet…
Probably it was a reflection of my overall unhappiness with him, but the realization was salt in the emotional wounds. The ring hadn’t been the gift from him as I’d always believed. No—as I’d always assumed. He’d never said as much, so the error was mine. He’d simply restored my legacy to me. I could hardly fault him for that.
I only wished my bruised heart could follow that simple logic.
After a moment of hesitation, I donned my crown—something else I also almost never wore. It would make a statement, however, and I felt I needed it. Bracing myself to face Rayfe, I opened the door to our sitting room and strode in serenely, head held high.
A wasted effort as he wasn’t there. The door to the spare bedchamber stood open, and for a moment I thought maybe he’d never returned the night before. But, no—the bedclothes were in disarray. Savagely so, as if he’d tossed and turned all night. I didn’t wish him ill, but it also made me feel somewhat better to see he’d been more bothered by our argument than he’d made out to be.
It’s just an argument. People disagree. He’d said that as if the hateful, hurtful words meant nothing, as if our marriage couldn’t change, decline, or die. Surely there would come a point at which we would injure our relationship so much that it couldn’t recover, and what then?
Another blank spot crossed the Annfwn border, this time to the west, and it shook me out of my gloomy self-involvement. That would be Kiraka bringing Dafne, Nakoa, and the new baby. There—at least meeting their little girl would bring some much-needed joy to the day.
I made my way out through the palace, such as it was. No one in the twelve would give that name to the tiers of interconnected rooms and balconies that formed our home. Servants and various workers greeted me, and I pasted on a gracious smile, pretending I wasn’t looking for Rayfe. I didn’t see him on the road to the council chambers either. Pausing at one overlook, I watched Zynda wing in for a landing on the beach, her sleek form as brilliant as a star sapphire in the rising sunlight. Another dragon settled beside her, this one silver. I’d only seen Djakos in visions and through other eyes, but I’d know him anywhere. And not only because there were but three dragons to know. So far.
Even from the distance, I could easily spot Ami riding behind Ash on Djakos. She was resplendent in a pink gown that flowed artfully over his sparkling silver scales, her hair somehow more radiant than the rose-gold sunrise. Ash climbed down the harness they’d strapped to Djakos—similar to the one Marskal had rigged up for riding Zynda’s dragon form, improved with modifications from the fighting harness Karyn and Zyr had found in n’Andana for his gríobhth form—then held out his arms to Ami. She swung a leg over, stood a moment in the foot strap with her arms raised high, like a painting of Glorianna as harvest mother, then let herself fall. I could imagine her delighted peal of laughter as Ash caught her.
“Never less than dramatic, our Ami,” Ursula commented, moving up beside me, her arm through Harlan’s. He nodded a good morning to me, also watching the scene on the beach, a half smile on his face.
“But she does it so well,” I replied.
“Indeed. Good thing we love her so much,” Ursula said, and we shared a smile. She looked me over. “You look queenly today.”
Ursula so rarely commented on anyone’s appearance that her words struck me with a sick realization. I’d dressed entirely the wrong way if I wanted to soothe Rayfe’s ire. I should’ve tried to look less queenly. Instead, I’d gone further. Well, too late now—and, besides, I’d followed my own inclinations. While I hated having him so angry with me, I wouldn’t stop being who I needed to be in order to make him feel better. I returned Ursula’s scrutiny, noting her fighting leathers—boots on her feet—sword and plenty of knives strapped on in various places. She also wore our mother’s ruby jewelry, which oddly didn’t look out of place with the warrior’s gear.
“And you look ready for war,” I noted. Harlan, too, in the sleeveless leather vest he liked to wear in Annfwn’s heat, his broadsword sheathed on his back.
Ursula smiled thinly. “Yes. Yes, I am. We both are, in different ways, aren’t we?”
An excellent point.
“Marskal has his hands full,” Harlan commented, tipping his head at the scene below.
Zynda had snaked her long neck around, dropping her pointed jaw so her man-sized eye stared down a bear cub struggling to escape Marskal’s grip as he tried to shimmy down the harness. A black kitten made an amazing leap to land on Zynda’s snout, running lickety-split up between her eyes to perch between the curving blue-black horned ears. Zynda snorted a lick of flame, which made both children freeze long enough for Marskal to leap free. As soon as he hit sand, Zynda’s massive form collapsed into her human one, the black kitten held firmly in her arms.
“Impressive that she can do that,” Ursula said, “move Stella from her head to her hands as she shifts.”
“Zynda is renowned as our most talented shapeshifter for a reason. She truly shares Salena’s gifts in that way.”
“But she doesn’t carry the mark of the Tala,” she replied, watching me keenly, “so she could never be queen of the Tala.”
“Well, that’s correct and not,” I temporized. “Don’t snort at me. These things aren’t clear cut. Zynda has the right blood to be queen, but the wrong temperament—and she flat refused to consider it, even as a girl. Zyr has all the qualifications, too, but he can’t be king, though for different reasons. Rayfe does not have the mark, and he was able to win his place as king anyway. The mark has more to do with ability to access the Heart and manipulate that magic than anything else.”
“And Stella has it, but Astar doesn’t—and yet they can both shift.”
“Exactly.” I smiled sunnily at her frown. “Lots of those with Tala blood can shapeshift. The mark is something extra. Here comes Kiraka with our Nahanaun friends.”
The great bronze shape of the ancient dragon Kiraka winged in low over the sea. “Greetings, Queen Andromeda,” she said, her mind-voice rustling like dried leaves. “Permission to land on your shores?”
“Always, Lady Kiraka. Annfwn is also your home.”
“Hmpf. I prefer to be certain of my welcome when mighty sorceresses are involved.”
I laughed mentally, partly in affection for the cantankerous old dragon, and partly at the implication I could do much of anything against the n’Andanan shapeshifter who’d once been a substantial sorceress in her own right. I doubted that had changed just because she’d permanently settled into dragon form. Besides, not much stood up to dragon fire.
“Something amusing?” Ursula asked.
“Kiraka. Her humor is quite dry.” Kiraka winged to a neat landing, barely stirring the sand, and practically melted into a boneless slide that put her passengers within easy reach of the ground. Still, Nakoa simply gathered Dafne’s slighter body into his arms and leapt powerfully to the sand, the silver threading his dark hair glittering, the golden dragon torc and armbands a bright counterpoint.
“Showoff,” Ursula muttered.
“I could do that,” Harlan pointed out, “if you’re feeling like you need to put on a display.”
She gave him a withering look. “No, thank you. We’re full up on manly muscular displays. Looks like they’ve got the kids corralled and are heading up. Let’s walk on to the council chambers and eat something before the rest of the hoard arrives.”
He smiled easily, saluting her with the Elskathorrl. “As my lady wife commands.”
“Could I have a word with Harlan?” I figured this might be a conversation better had in private.
He and Ursula exchanged glances. “I’ll meet you there,” she said, moving to go.
“No.” He caught her elbow, changing it to a caress that slid smoothly down her inner arm. “Stay. No more secrets.”
She softened, then looked to me and shrugged. “Andi?”
“Yes, that’s fine. My discretion was more out of consideration for you, Harlan. I had a vision this morning, and I’d like to get your insight.” I described what I’d seen and heard, and he sobered as I spoke.
He scratched his fingers over his scalp. “Inga,” he said. “She had eyes that color. And Helva’s were brown, like our mother’s. Hulda is Kral’s mother. She’s dowager empress now, since Hestar’s first wife is ostensibly the current empress.”
“What is her name?” Ursula frowned as she searched her memory. “I don’t recall hearing it.”
He lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “I have no idea. If she even holds the title of empress, I doubt it does her much good. Hestar was never one to share power. Nor was Hulda, for that matter. She always ruled the other wives, so I imagine it’s no different with her daughters-in-law.”
“So, Hulda is the one to watch,” Ursula nodded to herself, filing away that information.
“Do you have any idea why she’d try to summon Kral?” I asked.
Harlan sighed. “Hulda has spent the bulk of her life maneuvering to make Kral emperor. There’s been nothing too cruel or too ruthless for her to attempt in pursuit of that goal.” He and Ursula exchanged a long, speaking look, a potent secret humming through the golden bond between them. Interesting. “According to the conversation you saw,” he continued, “Hulda sees Hestar’s failure to wed Ban to Ursula as an opportunity.”
“For my part, I’m most interested that Inga mentioned sending a message via Akamai,” Ursula put in. “That verifies that she’s our correspondent, that Akamai is with her and she’s attempting to help you.”
“Yes,” he replied absently. “Dafne will want to know that. But I think we need to take Hulda’s machinations very seriously. Whatever she’s plotting against Hestar will absolutely affect us.”
“From what you’ve said, women have no power in Dasnaria,” Ursula countered.
“No official or overt power,” he corrected. “Hulda may not have left the Imperial Palace since the day she entered it as a sixteen-year-old bride, but she’s used a life of enforced idleness to consolidate her influence. She ever was clever and ruthless. If anyone could discover how to extend her reach from the prison that is the Imperial Seraglio, it would be Hulda.”
“Arguably, Inga, at least, has done so also,” Ursula mused. “An apparent coincidence we can’t ignore.”
“There’s a reason Moranu showed me this vision,” I agreed. “Following our speculation that Hestar offered the treaty in order to tear Deyrr from this throat, then Hulda seeing his failure as an opportunity could mean she’s allied with the high priestess.”
“We know that they’ve been in the same place at the same time,” Harlan said. “I doubt Hulda would scruple at working with the practitioners if Deyrr if it furthered her ends.”
As I suspected. “Then my next question is if Kral will answer the summons.”
Harlan considered it seriously, in silent communication with Ursula. I knew full well that they couldn’t speak mind to mind—neither had those capabilities—but for all that, they seemed to hold more extensive conversations that way than Rayfe and I could.
“I’m going to say no,” Harlan finally replied. He shook his head minutely when Ursula shifted in disagreement, and spoke more to her than to me. “There was a time, certainly, when Kral wanted nothing else. And I’d be the first to condemn some of the things he’s done in pursuit of that power. But he’s a changed man.”
“Because of love?” Ursula sneered in derision.
Harlan tapped her on the nose, something I’d have once sworn to all three goddesses Ursula would never allow anyone to do. “Don’t pretend you don’t understand the capacity for love to make us want to become better people. Kral loves our Jepp, yes, and wants to do whatever it takes to keep her with him—but beyond that, Jepp opened his eyes to the more sordid aspects of the empire and our family. When you grow up embedded in a culture, when a way of doing things is all you’ve known all your life, it can be hard to see its flaws. Having someone you love and admire point out those flaws can make all the difference.”
“Many will argue that people don’t change—that they can’t change.”
“Then they don’t know us,” Harlan replied with quiet meaning.
She huffed, making him smile. “Well, this will be a good test. I just hope that if he decides to chase after Hulda’s offer that we won’t lose Jepp, too. Any other questions, Andi?”
“Not at the moment. Let’s head to the council chambers.”
“Is Rayfe meeting us there?” she asked as we resumed walking. She spoke with an innocent air, but I sensed her keen attention on me.
“I believe so,” I replied carefully. “Unless some emergency detains him.”
“Hmm.”
I knew that noncommittal hum of hers and Moranu take me if I would rise to that particular bait. We made it down another turn in the road before she spoke again. “He seemed out of sorts at the meeting yesterday.”
“We’re all out of sorts. It would be surprising if the pressure didn’t make us irritable.”
“Granted, but—”
“Auntie Andi! Auntie Andi!” A naked little girl with tumbling black curls ran at us full tilt. Ursula caught her neatly in her leap at me, snagging her around the middle with quick hands and holding her as she writhed.
“Easy, Nilly,” she cautioned. “Auntie Andi is pregnant, and we don’t leap on pregnant ladies.”
“I won’t break,” I replied, amused that even Ursula had adopted Ami and Ash’s habit of calling the twins Willy and Nilly.
“No, but you can bruise. Do you know who I am?” Ursula asked.
Our niece stilled and contemplated Ursula. “You’re Auntie Essla. Her Fucking Majesty.”
Ursula’s smile at Stella’s recognition faded into a frown. Harlan snorted, manfully swallowing a laugh. “I’ll be having words with your mother,” she said, passing Stella to me as Astar, still in bear form, came galloping towards us, his parents nowhere in sight. Stella planted kisses on my face with glee, squirming as I tried to plant a few on her.
“And here’s a fine bear cub,” Ursula declared, canting her head at Astar, “but where’s my nephew?”
Stella giggled. “That is him!”
Ursula got down on one knee, taking the bear cub tackle with a laugh, then wrestling him to the ground. Another sight I would’ve sworn could never be.
“Where are your clothes, missy?” I asked Stella.
She put her little hands on my cheeks, her lower lip thrusting out in a pout. “I don’t like them. Cats don’t wear clothes.”
“But cats don’t talk either,” I reminded her. “Walking, talking, and looking like people comes with certain rules, and clothes are one of them.”
“My mommy says I don’t have to wear clothes,” she insisted.
“Ah, but I am queen here, which means I outrank your mommy.”
Stella considered that, taking in my crown, her gray eyes solemn. “I thought you’re a sorceress.”
“I’m both.”
“Have you seen the other sorceress—the mean one with no eyes?”
Something in me stilled, frozen to the core. “Does she talk to you in dreams?”
“They’re not dreams.” Stella stared at me, betrayal crumpling her face. “I thought you would understand.”
I hugged her close, her little body so warm and thrumming with magic. “I do understand. And yes, I’ve seen her. I think you shouldn’t talk to her, no matter what she says.”
“All right. I don’t like her.”
“Me neither. I will teach you some tricks to make her go away.”
She nodded. Frowned. “Why is your hip hurt?”
“I was fighting a giant warthog and I caught a tusk in my hip,” I told her, not surprised she’d sensed my injury. Stella had the gift of empathy, a rare talent that I worried would bring her more grief than anything.
“There,” she said with a bright smile and another kiss. “I fixed it. Can I feel the baby?”
“Yes, but later, all right?” Quite a few Tala had gathered to watch the scene, quite amused by the sight of the High Queen wrestling a bear cub. Astar appeared to be winning, too. Harlan stood by laughing, so Ursula must not be in too much trouble. Ash arrived at a jog and dove in to assist.
“Stella Andromeda!” Ami’s stern voice rang out. “What have we discussed about being naked?”
“Uh oh.” Stella rounded her mouth, giving me a beseeching look. “She only uses my real name when I’m in trouble.”
“Just this once,” I whispered. I rarely used the power of the Heart to manifest things, and never frivolously, but I did this time. I set her down and was more than rewarded by Stella’s delighted smile as a simple Tala shift in a deep violet appeared above her head and settled over her in a loose swirl.
She grinned at Ami. “But Mommy, I’m not naked!”
Ami gave her a stern look, though her generous mouth twitched with suppressed amusement. “Say thank you to Auntie Andi.”
“Thank you to Auntie Andi!” Stella sang out.
Stella trotted over to watch as Ash and Marskal double-teamed the bear cub, pulling him off Ursula. She extracted herself, got to her feet, and punched the still laughing Harlan on the arm. “Traitor.”
Ami turned a radiant smile on me, crossing the last short distance to embrace me. She smelled of sunshine and roses, her hair like silk, and she felt like pure love in my mind. Being Glorianna’s avatar must be nice—no dark shadows or hard edges. “Andi, it is so good to see you!”
I returned the embrace. “Likewise. Sorry to roust you out of Windroven before you were ready.”
“But we were ready.” She released me, rearranging my hair around my face and shoulders for me, straightening the crown a little. “Nilly told us,” she added, raising her rose-gold brows, violet eyes wide.
I groaned in sympathy, glancing over to where the barefoot girl danced from foot to foot, apparently offering advice on the men trying to calm Astar, who was still a bear cub. “It was too much to hope that she’d escape the curse of foresight.”
“She says a mean woman with dead eyes has been talking to her. At first I thought it was a standard childhood nightmare, but…”
“Nothing so prosaic. Nilly just mentioned that to me, too. It has to be Deyrr’s high priestess. She almost certainly senses the mark of the Tala in Nilly.”
Ami’s soft, sensual mouth went hard and those lovely violet eyes sparked fire. “That bitch has no business messing with my child.”
Ah, there it was, the fierce face of love. Pretty, vain Ami would stop at nothing to protect the ones she loved. She and Ursula had that in common. “That’s one reason I wanted you all out of Windroven,” I told her.
Ami nodded in glum agreement. “She infiltrated the castle Glorianna only knows how long ago. Since Zynda and Marskal freed Djakos, we’ve tried to keep those lower levels sealed, but it’s fighting a losing battle. Sleeper spies keep creeping up from the depths.”
“I can help our Nilly,” I promised, hoping I wasn’t wrong. “That bitch won’t get to her again.”
“Thank you.” She took my hands and stepped back to survey my belly. “How are you feeling? I bet you’re at the ‘how in the Three can my body stretch any more?’ and ‘how can a bone be swollen?’ stage.”
I laughed. “That’s about right—and I keep reminding myself I’ll stretch more.”
“You get kind of used to it,” she confided. She ran a thoughtful finger over the ruby necklace lavishly sparkling beneath my collarbones. “Salena’s?”
“Yes.”
“Essla sent me a royal command to wear mine, but they don’t go with pink.” She made a face.
“Some things are more important than fashion accessorizing,” Ursula noted, coming to join us.
Ami sniffed, casting a jaundiced eye at the white dust and crushed flower petals decorating Ursula’s leathers. “Forgive me if I don’t take beauty tips from you, Auntie Essla.”
Ursula raised one auburn brow. “Don’t you mean ‘your fucking majesty’?”
Ami winced. “They’re like little sponges, only they soak up all the worst things, and none of what they’re supposed to.”
To our surprise, Ursula laughed and opened her arms. “I love you, too, Ami.”
They embraced, Ami’s sunrise hair a bright halo compared to Ursula’s deep red. But for all that they differed in so many ways—Ursula all lean, sharp lines where Ami was lush as a blossom—the stamp of sisterhood showed clearly. Parting, they both looked to me, extending hands to include me in the circle. Me, the night darkness, the shadows, also like and unlike.
A vision stirred, this one clearly from the long ago past. Salena, as a much younger woman, standing in this same spot and seeing us three, her daughters in the far future. I looked across the years at her, those storm gray eyes exactly like my own, the same ruby necklace glittering around her throat. She gazed right back at me, dipping her chin in acknowledgment, and the years tightened like a string abruptly yanked, so that we almost stood in the same time as well as the same place.
She lifted a hand in greeting, smiled at us.
And the moment was gone.