91: SISTERHOOD

(Senera’s story)

They traveled back to Senera’s cottage, while Senera consulted various books, scribbled in a journal, and muttered a great deal under her breath. She didn’t technically need to research, but it gave Xivan time to deal with Veixizhau and her infant daughter, Nexara. Of the two, only Nexara was in a healthy state. Veixizhau was going to need a lot of time in quiet places where gentle people served her equally gentle broths.

Senera hoped Xivan took up her suggestion of sending the mother and child to the Vishai. They were very good at that sort of thing. She knew from personal experience.

Talea spent a lot of time supporting Xivan, of which Senera also approved. Xivan struck her as one of those people who thought she was invulnerable and would continue to think that right up until the point she suffered a severe mental collapse. Especially since Xivan’s lack of need to eat, drink, or sleep might easily fool her into thinking she had a lack of every kind of need, which was absolutely not true.

When Senera was finally ready, she called the others back. “I believe I’ve figured out how we can quickly reach Janel.” She paused. “There are a few issues, however.”

Xivan raised an eyebrow at her and waited.

Senera forced herself not to fidget. Xivan had always done the mother thing very well, a skill only sharpened with the addition of several dozen women who followed her every order. Sometimes even Senera felt the power of that disapproving stare.

“The main issue is that if it works, the vané are almost certainly going to want to kill us. Me, at the very least. The barrier roses have been one of their primary defenses against invasion for millennia. They won’t be happy about the idea that anyone—least of all a trio of Quuros—have figured out how to negate them.”

Talea shrugged. “We’re only going to do it one time. They never have to know.”

Senera bit her lip. “Talea…” She took a deep breath and started over. “Talea, if you ran a country that was surrounded by a gigantic, extremely effective magical wall and someone just … walked … through it, wouldn’t you try to find out how they had done it? Wouldn’t you do just about anything to find out how they had done it? After all, it’s not just your life we’re talking about here. You have people to protect.”

Talea frowned. “I see your point.”

“Are we still doing this?” The other two women gave her precisely the same flat stares she’d been expecting. Senera sighed and waved a hand. “Fine. I had to ask. All right, come over here.” She picked up a small potted plant.

“What is that for?” Xivan asked, looking understandably confused.

Senera grinned. “I’m glad you asked. This is how we’re going to take down the single greatest magical protection possessed by any nation in the world.”

“With gardening?” The amusement in Xivan’s voice fought with her skepticism.

“Oh yes,” Senera said. “With gardening. If nothing else, I like to think the vané will appreciate our style.”

Senera wove the elements of the gate again, this time to a point in Doltar that was as close to the Manol Jungle as she personally had ever been. As close as she would probably be able to go while the protective wards were still in place, anyway.

She left Rebel behind this time. She hated doing it, but she couldn’t in good conscience justify bringing the dhole. At least if the worst happened and Senera didn’t come back, she wouldn’t have to worry about Rebel being trapped inside the cottage; her dog was perfectly capable of tearing the doors off their hinges.

They came out of the gate in a warm, humid landscape that might fool one into thinking this was the Manol Jungle if one had never seen a sky tree. This was a lesser rain forest, and from here, one couldn’t actually see the giant canopy line of the larger jungle. It was lush and green and filled with every sort of living plant. The floor was so covered with fallen trees, roots, plants, flowers, and detritus that one was basically assured of standing on something living, rather than standing on actual soil. It seemed like the sort of place Baelosh would have liked.

“Why were you ever down here?” Xivan asked.

“There are a few herbs that only grow in this region,” Senera explained. “Relos Var brought me here so I could collect them.”

That explanation given, Senera looked for a spot to set down her potted plant. “Be careful of snakes and spiders, by the way. The sigils I gave you will protect from bug bites, but there are other creatures down here besides those.”

Talea looked around rather nervously, and her hand inched toward her sword as if that would somehow do any good at all.

Senera concentrated on the plant in front of her. “You see,” she explained, “we can’t actually get anywhere near a barrier rose. They’re not like a net that encircles the Manol. It’s more like a series of lanterns, with the light of each lantern overlapping. And anywhere that light reaches, one cannot open a gate. Unfortunately, those lanterns tend to be intelligently placed in the middle of vané cities—sensibly fortified locations that we probably couldn’t get within a hundred miles of without being spotted and filled with black vané arrows.”

“But obviously, you have a way to deal with it.”

“No, actually you do,” Senera said to Xivan. “As you said, you’re going to use Urthaenriel.”

Xivan tilted her head. “Should I point out that Atrin Kandor tried invading the Manol with Urthaenriel and it did him no good?”

“I’ve always felt Atrin Kandor suffered from a distinct lack of imagination,”¹ Senera said. “Atrin was clever, mind you, but demonstrated a tendency to brute force his way through problems. This needs something a bit subtler.”

Senera began painting sigils on the bottom of the plant’s pot, and almost immediately, the plant began to bloom.

“Oh, it’s a rosebush,” Talea said.

“Not just a rosebush,” Senera explained. “The very same variety of roses they use to make their fabled barriers from. It’s just this version isn’t magical. Or, should I say, didn’t used to be magical? That’s about to change.”

“So wait, you’re going to enchant this to be a barrier rose?” Talea put her hands on her hips. “How is making another barrier rose going to help us?”

“Wait and see,” Senera said. “This had better work, because if the first part is successful but the second part fails, we’re walking home.”²

Xivan crossed her arms over her chest and watched.

Senera thought the principle was simple enough. She needed to have access to one of the barrier roses in order for this to work, but she couldn’t get access until she was much farther inside the country than she would ever be allowed to get without first taking down the barrier roses.

She smiled, thinking of the Quuros Academy wizards who had been stopped by this very problem. They could all eat a block of mud.

When she was finished, Senera straightened and tried to open a gate back to the cottage.

She couldn’t. The gate refused to open.

“Step one is complete,” Senera announced. “Now for step two. Xivan, would you be so kind as to draw Urthaenriel and stab the rosebush with it? And don’t take it out again. Just keep holding your sword inside the rosebush.”

Xivan looked skeptical, but she stood up and did as Senera asked. Parts of the rosebush wilted in response, but since the majority of the rosebush had existed quite happily for some time without the aid of any magic at all, it continued to exist without it in the presence of Godslayer.

“And how long am I supposed to do this for?” Xivan asked.

“An hour. Maybe two. It occurs to me that we should have packed a lunch.”

Xivan narrowed her eyes at Senera. “Is this some kind of prank?”

“Xivan, this is Senera we’re talking about,” Talea reminded her. “She doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

“Thank you … I think,” Senera said. “It’s not a prank. Urthaenriel is draining the magic from that enchantment. Now normally, that would be as far as it went, but despite what I said earlier, the barrier roses that protect the jungle are a kind of net. If one part of the net fails, the weave is tight enough for the other roses to take over, to cover the gap, which they will try to do. They are, even as we speak, directing their energy toward this disenchanted barrier rose to make sure the barrier stays strong.”

Xivan motioned with her free hand. “And…”

“And that energy is not infinite,” Senera explained. “Eventually, the rest of the roses will be so weakened trying to maintain this one—which cannot be maintained because Urthaenriel is constantly draining it—that they will all simultaneously fail. The whole damn net will just … disintegrate.” She put her hands together and then moved them apart, wriggling her fingers as she did.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Talea said.

“I might be, yes,” Senera admitted. “Normally, the method we’re using would be impossible and beyond the reach of even most Quuros wizards, but Urthaenriel is just so very useful, isn’t it?” She joined Talea on the log. “Now while Xivan is busy, I’m going to take a bit of time to see if I can’t figure out exactly who we’ll be facing when we do go to confront Suless and just what we can do to make sure Janel comes out of the situation alive.” She waved her brush. “If that is the right word.”

“Thank you,” Talea told her. “I really appreciate it. I’m just sure Janel will too.”

“Whether she will or not remains to be seen, but you’d never let me hear the end of it otherwise.” Senera set up her writing supplies and started to work.

(Janel’s story)

Janel woke to ice and cold.

She wasn’t in the Afterlife, the dark, crawling, fetid woods that she had grown up roaming. This was another place, familiar, even less welcome.

She stood on top of a glass pyramid in the icy, frozen wastes of the Yoran mountains. The clouds thundered below her in the valleys, wrapping blizzard gusts through the narrow canyons. The icy winds scoured the high peaks, while ice crystals glittered like diamonds across the top of the truncated pyramid. Janel didn’t feel the cold at all.

Hyenas laughed and called to each other in the distance. Then one laugh from much closer.

Janel turned toward the sound.

Suless sat on her throne. Unlike all the other times she had ever seen the god-queen, this Suless was young. She had brown skin and orange-red eyes, while her dark hair was streaked with white from artifice rather than age. She was rather shockingly pretty, although her eyes still looked hard and the twist in her mouth could only be described as cruel.

“Hello, little lion,” Suless said.

“What am I doing here?” Janel looked around. She didn’t think this was real. That didn’t mean she could see any obvious way to escape. “Suless, what trickery is this?”

Suless stood. “Normally, I’d have killed you already. That is tradition. But you’re a special case.”

Janel reached for her sword, only to realize she didn’t have it. She was dressed in little better than a thin chemise, with no armor, no weapons. Janel clenched her fist and summoned fire.

Suless snapped her fingers. Instantly, Janel found herself dragged backward, wrists and ankles bound in thick manacles of ice, to a frozen wall that hadn’t been there a moment before. Janel fought down panic. Even with all her strength, she couldn’t pull herself free. “Suless! Stop this!”

“No, I don’t think so.” Suless walked over to her. “Your little friend Xivan’s been proving an inconvenience, and I’ve decided I’m done with it.”

Janel momentarily stopped struggling. “And you think I’m going to help with that? I have news for you, old woman—Xivan isn’t going to stop trying to kill you no matter how many hostages you take. You’re only going to strengthen her resolve.”

Suless laughed. No, Suless cackled. She might have looked young, but she still laughed to make a child’s hairs stand on end. “Oh no,” Suless said. “You’re not a hostage. In fact, our positions have been reversed, little lion. Once, I taught you. Now, you’re going to return the favor.”

Janel frowned. “What could I possibly teach you that you don’t already know?”

“Well.” Suless reached over to the edge of her throne and broke off an icicle. “It occurred me while I was trying to evade that bitch Xivan that there was hardly anyplace in the world I could go where she couldn’t follow. The Manol? Safe in the short term, but eventually she’ll find a way inside. And while I’ve never much cared for friends, in this one instance, that’s an inconvenience. I’m running out of safe havens. So what to do?”

“Give up and die?” Janel suggested. She tried heating up her hands to melt the restraints. It didn’t work. The thick bands looked like ice, but they were clearly made of something far more permanent.

“Hilarious,” Suless said. “But then I remembered that there is one place in all the Twin Worlds where Xivan can’t follow me. The Afterlife.”

“Perfect. I’ll help send you there,” Janel spat.

“You go there every night, my dear. You go there and return at will. And you and I both know it’s not because of Xaltorath.”

Janel didn’t respond. She didn’t know that, although she’d been starting to suspect. This was one of the things that Xaltorath didn’t seem to want her to remember. “You think I can teach you? I can’t.”

Suless walked up to her. “You can, daughter. You weren’t cursed by demons. You weren’t infected by Xaltorath, no matter what she wanted you to think. You made yourself this way. Did you think you could hide the truth from me? I know you better than you know yourself. You turned yourself into a demon. And somewhere inside your souls, you remember how you did it. You’re going to teach me.”

“I can’t,” Janel said.

“Then let’s jog that memory together, shall we?” Suless stabbed the icicle through Janel’s shoulder, and began to twist.