103: LONG LIVE THE KING

(Teraeth’s story)

Doc was coronated quickly. Daynos performed the ceremony, placed the crown upon his brow. Afterward, guards started clearing the room, but Teraeth waved them off. There was no way he was leaving.

“I didn’t think this day could become weirder,” Janel said. “But here we are.”

“No argument from me.”

Xivan leaned forward. “Janel, I’m glad that you’re back, and I hate to be that person, but … what happened to Suless?”

“Oh,” Janel said. She paused for a moment. “She escaped.”

Xivan’s hand clenched around the scabbard of Urthaenriel. Teraeth winced, thinking there was a reasonably good chance that Xivan was at that moment regretting her devotion to friendship.

Plan C would have seen Suless dead.

Janel reached out, clasped Xivan’s hand, and squeezed. “She’s gone someplace where you can’t follow.” She looked down for a second before raising her head again. “Xivan, I will destroy her. I promise you that.”

Xivan’s brow furrowed as though she found that idea difficult to understand. “She had a gem on her. I need it.”

Janel frowned and reached down to her belt. She pulled out a small pouch and upended it into her hand. “This? Xivan, this was my tsali. Suless was keeping me imprisoned in it.” A single star tear sparkled in the palm of her hand.

Xivan stared at Janel’s hand, then slowly reached out and picked up the diamond. “She was lying, then.” Xivan’s lips thinned. “Of course she was. Why did I let myself think any differently?”

“Whatever else,” Teraeth said, “we can always count on Suless to be as petty and spiteful as possible.”

“I am so sorry,” Janel said.

Xivan closed her eyes, nodding.

Talea leaned out past Xivan. “It really is good to have you back, Janel. I’m so glad we were able to help.”

Janel cocked her head. “Wait. You’re here because of me?”

Talea nodded vigorously. “Oh yes. Senera brought us.”

The woman in question cleared her throat, although Senera didn’t look in Janel’s direction. The wizard gestured toward the main floor. “Mind if we switched to closer seats?”

Teraeth nodded. “Agreed. I’d like to talk to my father.”

When Doc stood, he turned to the Founders. “Your loyalty humbles me. I do not deserve it, but thank you.” He stopped himself from whatever he’d been about to say next and started again. “I’m going to need the ritual.”

One of the Founders rushed out of the room, presumably to fetch it.

While that happened, Teraeth and the others made their way down to the area normally reserved for only the most important vané. Funny how no one tried to stop them.

Doc walked over to the desk where Valathea had kept her supplies, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to a guard. “Give that to Her Majesty, please.” He motioned toward Queen Miyane.

“Oh, I should have mentioned that’s Talon,” Janel said.

“What?” Teraeth said. “Yeah, that might have been important.”

“No, not really,” Senera murmured.

The guard walked over to the woman. “For you, Your Majesty.” He handed her the envelope.

Queen Miyane looked confused, but she opened up her piece of paper. A look of anger crossed her face. “Why you—” She fell unconscious before she could finish the sentence.

Doc waved a hand, and the paper shriveled and turned to dust. “That’s not Queen Miyane. I believe you’ll find that’s a mimic. We do still have cells that will hold mimics, don’t we? Please put her in one before she wakes.”

“I honestly wasn’t sure that would work on a mimic,” Senera whispered next to Teraeth.

Teraeth frowned. “He asked you to do that?”

She nodded. “We both felt it was safer.”

It didn’t make Teraeth feel any better. Just how much of this had his father planned in advance? Teraeth made his way forward. “Father, I need to speak to you.”

“Later,” Thaena said.

Teraeth stared at his mother. “There won’t be a later for him.”

Thaena sighed and motioned for Teraeth to go ahead. He walked over to his father. “Damn it, whatever you’re about to do, don’t,” Teraeth said.

Doc smiled at him. “I’m keeping my word. It’s what your mother wants.”

“No, there’s something else going on.” Teraeth reached out and touched his father’s arm. “Explain it to Thaena. Whatever it is, she’ll believe you.”

The smile on Doc’s face slipped. He returned the motion, clasping Teraeth’s shoulder. “No, not me. Anyone but me. We’ve too much history, I’m afraid. I couldn’t trust Khaeriel to do it correctly, and with Senera here…” Doc squeezed his hand. “Have I told you I love you? I really should have.”

Teraeth felt his throat close up. He didn’t know what to say.

“Trust me, Teraeth. I’m doing this for Kihrin,” Doc said. Then he laughed and leaned over. “And by the way, if you don’t marry that boy, I’ll never forgive you.”

Teraeth really didn’t know what to say. “Uh, but … wait. Kihrin? What did Kihrin tell you?”

But his father had already turned away. Daynos had walked up with a large metal-bound book in his hands.

“Where’d you get this copy?” Doc asked. “It’s not the one I owned.”

“Grizzst provided us with another,” Daynos said. “Just in case.”

“Right. Just in case.” Doc laughed bitterly as he flipped through the pages. Each one looked like an onionskin rubbing, like someone had rubbed charcoal over an engraved stone. He stopped at one passage and snorted.¹ Then he closed the book and handed it back. “Thank you.”

Daynos looked confused. “Won’t you need this?”

“What? No,” Doc said. “I have it memorized. Let’s clear out the center, please. I’ll need room to draw the ritual circle.”

Memorized? Teraeth was supposed to believe his father had memorized the ritual he’d infamously refused to perform? He walked back over to Janel and the others. He started to say something to her, but realized that Senera, Xivan, and Talea were standing right next to them. Doc had said Senera’s presence was part of why he hadn’t explained himself. And Senera seemed to want the ritual to proceed.

Ergo, one could assume Relos Var wanted the ritual to proceed.

“It’s a trap,” Teraeth murmured. “This was planned.” But which ritual was doctored? The one in the book or the one Doc was about to perform from memory?

“Before I start,” Doc said, “please bring Therin back.” He must have thought Thaena was about to say no, because he added, “I promise you that I will perform the ritual. I will do it tonight. I will do it here. But bring Therin back first.”

Thaena stared at him. Then she nodded. “Very well. Do you have the body?”

Terindel gestured to the side. A pair of vané left the room and quickly entered again, carrying a stretcher, covered in cloth. It was an easy guess what was under that cloth.

Thaena stared at the body for a second, and Therin sat up, gasping.

It was as easy as that. Teraeth noticed that they’d at least changed him out of the clothes he’d died in, which was considerate. Those had been a mess.

Khaeriel rushed over to him. “Hey. Careful there. Can you stand?”

Therin blinked. “What hap—” He saw Thaena and froze.

“Hello, Therin,” Thaena said, smiling.

“What’s going on here?” Therin asked, eyes wide and skin pale. It wasn’t an atypical reaction, all things considered.

“What’s going on here is that you’ve been Returned,” Doc said. “You can thank Khaeriel. She was willing to give her life to have you brought back. So if you ever had a second’s doubt that Khaeriel really is in love with you, now you know.” His gaze landed on Khaeriel. “However, I think you are far too much like me, little mouse, and I can’t have you nibbling at my crown while I’m busy elsewhere. So you and Therin will be escorted to the edge of the country and from there you may go”—he shrugged—“wherever you like. Just not here.”

Khaeriel blinked at him. “Wait. What? Are you seriously … Are you exiling us?”

“Yes, I am,” Doc said. “Get the fuck out. Right now. Before I come to my senses and order something worse than exile.” He motioned for the guards.

“Doc, what kind of garbage is this…?” But Therin’s protest fell on deaf ears, and the guards politely but firmly pulled him outside, even as his expression was a battlefield of shock, betrayal, and anger.

“And that gets them out of the room,” Teraeth whispered. Was there any way he could stop this?

If only he knew what this even was.

“What?” Janel turned to him. She looked slightly wide-eyed.

“Something’s wrong,” Teraeth said. “Something’s very wrong. You see what he’s done? He’s removed anyone from the room who might be used as a hostage. Thaena wouldn’t kill us. We’re not expendable.”

Senera pulled the Name of All Things out of her bodice and began writing furiously.

“That was unexpected,” Thaena told Doc.

The once-again vané shrugged. “A lesson I learned a long time ago. I don’t share power. Now why don’t you let me fulfill my end of the bargain.”

Thaena stepped back and gestured for him to begin.

Which he did. He drew out a series of nested octagons on the ground and called for specific supplies, drew intricate glyphs at all the corners. He called for volunteers to help with the ritual; most of the people who answered that call were members of his old court who had themselves only been alive for a very short time. Not all, though. Daynos stepped forward. So did Megrea.

Teraeth found his throat growing tight; all those people were going to die. It wasn’t just the person who led the ritual who would have their life claimed. It was every single person who assisted. Every single member of the Star Court, only just returned to life.

They watched as Teraeth’s father worked through each stage of the ritual, each time the light growing brighter, the effect growing more intense. The room was soon shuddering from the strength of the tenyé in the room.

“Shit,” Senera cursed.

Teraeth focused on her immediately. “What? Quickly!”

She flipped over the journal and showed him both question and answer.

Can the Ritual of Night King Terindel is enacting on the vané people succeed?

No.

Not a predictive question. Not a question from the future. A question very much grounded in what was possible now. What Doc was doing wouldn’t work. Doc was the one who had changed the ritual, and that’s why he’d sent Therin away—so Thaena would be less likely to immediately take back the life she’d just granted.

Teraeth turned back to his father just as all the accumulated tenyé in the room dissipated. Doc lowered his arms, looking exhausted and resigned.

Teraeth stood. He wasn’t the only one, but he wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t feel any different. Would he notice losing his immortality? Would he feel different?

But more tellingly, all the Founders in the room were still alive, and he knew that wasn’t right at all.

“Did it work?” Janel asked.

“No,” Teraeth said. “It didn’t.”

Thaena stepped forward. She tilted her head to the side, closed her eyes, as if she was listening to something far away. Then she shook her head. “That did nothing.”

Doc shrugged. “I did everything I promised. I cast the Ritual of Night as requested.”

Thaena looked around the chamber. There was still a large crowd present; vané who wanted to witness this very singular event if nothing else. She ignored the crowd and turned back to Doc. “You sabotaged it somehow. What did you do?”

“I swear by all I hold dear, I performed the ritual perfectly,” Doc said.

Teraeth ran over to Daynos. “Let me see that.” Without waiting, he yanked the large book out of the man’s hands and ran over to a table. He opened the book and began flipping through the fragile pages, comparing it to what was on the floor. The easiest explanation, of course, was that he’d just made a mistake, that Doc’s memory had been less than perfect after all.

Thaena moved fast. She had her hand around Doc’s throat, although it was clear she wasn’t yet squeezing. She stared at his eyes. “Say, ‘Hear my words, for I will tell no lies.’”

Teraeth looked up. “Mother, stop it!”

Doc thrashed in her grip. “Fuck you.”

“You were always so willful,” Thaena growled. “Say, ‘Hear my words, for I will tell no lies.’”

“Thaena!” Janel stood. “What are you doing?”

“Stay out of this, child,” Thaena said without turning her head. “Say it!”

Doc let out a strangled cry. “Hear my words, for I will tell no lies!”

“Why didn’t it work?” Thaena asked her former lover.

Janel ran over to Teraeth. “What is going on? She’s … this is thorra.” Bullying. The strong taking advantage of the weak. He remembered enough of her lessons on Jorat to know it was the lowest of insults.

Teraeth couldn’t find a mistake. The ritual was … no. There it was. Seven glyphs in the book and only two on the markings on the floor.

Teraeth scowled. That was the spot for the race glyph. There should have only been one.

Both rituals were wrong.

“It was never going to work,” Doc said. Then he laughed. “Put me down, Kay. You want to know? Fine. I’ll tell you. No need for all this.”

Thaena let go of Doc, but her expression was still something terrible to behold.

Doc rubbed his neck. Then he looked over and stared straight at Teraeth. The corner of his mouth quirked, but his eyes were sad.

Teraeth fought down a feeling of absolute dread.

Doc turned back to Thaena and held out his hands. “It was never going to work because you can’t pick the same flower twice, Kay. All the races have already had their immortality stripped from them. The last immortal race lost their immortality five hundred years ago when the vordreth stepped up to the bar. It’s done.”

“You’re—” Thaena looked stunned, then incredulous, and finally furious. “The voras. The vané are an offshoot of the voras. But you became a separate race. You were supposed to be a separate race!”

“We became a separate nation, with a separate culture and a knowledge of magic that allowed us to stretch out our mortal life spans indefinitely. We were so good at it, even we didn’t realize we stopped being immortal when the voras fell. The reason we live forever is the same reason mimics live forever—because every time we tsali ourselves or change our shape or just heal ourselves, we’re reversing the aging process. House D’Mon would probably have noticed the same pattern if they didn’t all die violent early deaths the way they do.” Doc shrugged. “I didn’t find out the truth until I performed the Ritual of Night myself fifteen hundred years ago. I’m sorry, Kay; I did try to save the voramer. We all did. It was only when we saw the ritual didn’t work that we realized what was going on.”

Thaena was a statue. She turned her head lightly. “And you said nothing.”

“Naturally,” Doc said. “Because we all know how you get when you think humans are trying to ‘outlive their allotted hours.’ Why would you treat the vané any differently? There are people in this room who have been alive for fourteen thousand years. We didn’t want to lose that.”

No one in the entire room said a word. Hardly anyone breathed.

“You changed the ritual,” Teraeth said, his voice little higher than a whisper.

Both his parents turned to him.

“What was that?” Thaena asked.

Teraeth swallowed and pointed to the book. “You changed the ritual. If you knew the ritual wouldn’t work, why did you change it?”

Doc shook his head. “Because that ritual was already changed. Relos Var’s work, I’ve been told. If I’d used the ritual in that book, it wouldn’t have targeted the vané. It would have drained power from you, Kay. From you and all the other Guardians, and it would have smashed Vol Karoth’s prison wide open. That’s why I had to take the throne away from Khaeriel; she’d have performed the sabotaged ritual. So you’re welcome.”

Teraeth looked over at Senera. The look of surprise on her face made Teraeth suspect Relos Var hadn’t let her in on this part of the plan.

“So I have been made a fool by all sides, then,” Thaena said with a voice straight from the crypt.

Teraeth’s attention whipped back to his mother. He knew that voice. That voice was a terrible sign. “Mother, no!” Teraeth let go of Janel’s hand and started running forward.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Doc said calmly, “but you have to admit, you made it easy.”

Thaena’s eyes blazed. The corner of her lip curled in a hateful sneer. She held out her hand and made a fist.

Doc dropped to the ground with horrible, awful finality.

Dead.

All Teraeth could think of as he ran forward was that Doc had known. His father had absolutely known. Known how Thaena would react, known what that cost would be.

This was why he’d sent everyone else away.

Teraeth made it to his father’s corpse just a second after the man fell. He stared up at his mother. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“But I did. He deceived me,” Thaena growled. She turned her head and glared at Janel, who had followed Teraeth down to the center. “Don’t you dare judge me. He’s doomed all of us. I’ve spent five hundred years chasing a phantom solution that was never going to work!”

“Bring him back,” Janel said. “You made your point. Now bring him back.”

“No,” Thaena growled. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, but Teraeth rather suspected that they were more a sign of rage than sadness. “I’ll throw his souls to the demons of Hell myself before I Return him or allow him to set one single foot in the Land of Peace. I’ll feed him to the hellhounds myself!”

Janel’s nostrils flared. “Khaemezra, he should have told you, but that’s not—”

“Do not question me,” Thaena growled. “Do not make me doubt my decision to spare you, demon!”

Janel closed her mouth and drew back.

“Mother—” Teraeth took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe—

He couldn’t believe this was happening.

Teraeth honestly spent a second wondering if this was real, if this wasn’t an illusion spun by Chainbreaker. A nightmare. Anything but what was actually happening.

Thaena turned to the court. “Crown my son.”

Teraeth raised his head. “What?”

Thaena ignored him. “Terindel was king. He had a son. Terindel is dead, thus his son is heir. Crown his son king.”

Megrea licked her lips nervously. “I don’t think it’s quite that simple—”

Thaena closed her fist again, and Megrea died.

The whole hall surged up. Thaena raised her arm, and a barrier of energy sprang up all around the hall, blocking everyone in the audience from the floor and those few still there. Teraeth. Janel. A few Founders.

Teraeth looked over to where he’d been sitting. Xivan had drawn Urthaenriel.

Thaena turned to Daynos. “How many more have to die before it becomes simple?”

The Founder stared at her in utter and total shock and then motioned to the other. “Fetch the crown.”

Teraeth stood. “Mother, no. This isn’t … I don’t want this!”

“I don’t care what you want,” Thaena growled. “You will do as you’re told.” She looked at him, and he felt her pull on the servitor link. She did not do so gently. He gasped and found himself on his knees.

Teraeth heard the sound of someone running in his direction. He looked up, saw it was Janel, and held out a hand. “No. Don’t.” His voice was the barest whisper, but she stopped. Her expression was full of horror.

He knew Daynos was talking, but he couldn’t hear the words. Maybe he didn’t want to hear the words. This was all a surreal nightmare.

His mother had just killed his father.

She wasn’t done.

Light bloomed to the side, the impossible signature of someone opening a gate. He didn’t look over to see who it was.

Teraeth flinched as Daynos put the crown on his head. The vané founder’s voice was shaking as he said, “—crown you king of the vané people. Long may you reign.”

No. No, no, no, no.

Teraeth felt his mother grab him by the arm and yank him to his feet. “Now you’ll earn your place.”

She teleported them both out of the room.