95: THE HYENA QUEEN
(Teraeth’s story)
“Do you have any proof of any of this?” Doc said as he handed tea to the three women.
Valathea had insisted on the tea, right after a rather grumpy Khaeriel fixed Talea’s ant bites.
Senera rubbed a hand over her face. “Do you seriously think we would have come up with a story this ridiculous and invaded the Manol with three whole people if it wasn’t true?”
“Strange as this may seem coming from me, I believe them,” Teraeth said. “Although I can’t help but notice that your sigil didn’t work.”
Xivan scowled. “Yes, that is a problem.” She rubbed at her throat where Valathea had closed the wound. Now that she’d put Urthaenriel away, she looked like a living, breathing woman again, but that just made the injuries all the more gruesome.
“I didn’t say it would work,” Senera protested. “I said it might. As happens, it didn’t. We’re going to have to think of something else.”
“How does one evict a goddess?” Talea asked. “Oh, this tea is very good. Thank you.”
“Of course, dear.” Valathea sighed. “As much as we need to discuss our options, we really can’t stay here. This is a bit of a mess, I’m afraid.”
Teraeth thought she had a fine gift for understatement. Khaeriel might have had her feelings a bit hurt by being one of the first people taken out of the fight, but it was a sort of compliment; Senera had simply decided that she was the second most dangerous person there, with the most dangerous being Doc.
He was sitting off to the side, ruefully examining Chainbreaker’s broken necklace. “I suppose it was only a matter of time before it lived up to the name. Although five hundred years is a pretty good run.”
“We’ll fix it,” Valathea promised.
Khaeriel had passed on re-imprisoning Talon, at least for the moment, mostly because Talon had once again decided to behave unpredictably and hadn’t run when she’d had the chance. She’d claimed, once again, to still be loyal to Khaeriel.
Teraeth was starting to admire Talon’s ability to convince people she was too useful to destroy.
“Very well,” Senera said. “I propose a temporary truce while we find and deal with Suless.”
“You work for Relos Var,” Teraeth pointed out.
“That’s exactly why I’m inclined to accept her offer,” Khaeriel said.
Teraeth snorted. “What? Relos Var’s the one who betrayed us at Atrine. Relos Var is the reason Vol Karoth is awake right now and literally the reason we’re being forced to perform the Ritual of Night.”
Khaeriel waved a hand. “Oh, surely you’re mistaken about that.”
“I’m really not, Your Majesty.”
“Does it really matter whose side we’re on?” Talea asked. “We all want to help Janel. Or at least none of us want Suless to get away.”
Xivan considered the others. “Regardless of how you feel about that wizard, we are not here as your enemies.”
An alarm bell began to sound from the front of the farm.
“You’ve had everyone evacuate?” Valathea asked Teraeth.
He nodded. “Everyone but a few watchers. So we can assume the worst.”
The worst, of course, was that Suless hadn’t just run off in Janel’s body—she’d run off in Janel’s body and then promptly sold out everyone to the authorities. Which apparently was exactly her style. They were less sure of what story she’d told them or if she even understood the nature of the current political climate, but Senera had reassured them that Suless would have no trouble coming up with an appropriately enraging story.
Besides those few lookouts, everyone else—Teraeth, Khaeriel, Valathea, Doc, Talon, Senera, Xivan, and Talea—had stayed because, unlike the workers, they couldn’t be seen on the streets. Illusions could cover the whole group, but it seemed easier to remain, hash out their plans, and only vacate if their current location turned out to be known. No sense leaving a perfectly good safe house unless it proved necessary.
Unfortunately, it was proving necessary.
The three Quuros women had the additional difficulty that, although they weren’t wanted, they most certainly were identifiable as trespassers. Additionally, none of them had any idea how quickly the vané would fix the damage to the barrier roses, so if they tried to use a gate to leave, there was every possibility they wouldn’t be able to return. That made opening a gate and just leaving the Manol an impractical solution as well. If the timing didn’t work out in their favor, the vané might very well find themselves stuck outside the Manol Jungle with no way to get back to the parliament building before deliberations commenced. In which case, Kelanis wouldn’t need to kill them.
“Darling,” Valathea said to Doc, “would you mind helping me with this one?”
Teraeth didn’t see exactly what his father did, but the royal guards poured down the thoroughfares of the farm, they ran around, chased phantoms, and shouted a lot of orders about how “they” were getting away. One by one, they proceeded to fall to poisoned thorns created by Valathea or by holes in the platform that opened and then closed again quickly enough to trap the struggling soldiers in a wooden embrace. They didn’t want to kill the soldiers if they could help it—that sort of thing would only be a strike against them by the time they came back to parliament. Valathea was spectacularly skilled at this.
Xivan turned to Senera. “Let’s go after Khaeriel and Terindel first, you said. They’re the biggest dangers, you said.”
Senera scowled. “How was I supposed to know? The Name of All Things can’t see past its own creation. That’s millennia worth of blind spots. Nobody told me King Terindel’s wife was the dangerous one.”
Valathea beamed at her.
Teraeth sighed. “I hate to interrupt this analysis of why your attack strategies failed, but we can’t stay here. More guards will be on their way, so as Valathea suggested, this safe house is officially no longer safe.”
“So where do we go next?” Khaeriel seemed less than thrilled about the current course of events.
“I know how we can find a place to hide,” Talon offered.
Teraeth said, “Does this plan entail you picking a person at random, following them home, murdering them, and then stealing their house?”
“Oh, so you’ve done this before. I knew I liked you.”
“I might know a place,” Valathea offered. She inclined her head toward Doc. “Lefoarnan’s?”
Doc made a face. “It’s been five hundred years. I’m sure they’re not still—”
“No, no,” Teraeth interrupted before he could stop himself. “Let’s find someplace else.” As soon as he said the words, he knew he’d given himself away. After all, why react so poorly at the thought of going to a place that didn’t exist?
Valathea raised an eyebrow. “So it’s still in operation.”
“Lefoarnan’s?” Khaeriel pursed her lips. “I hadn’t thought of that. Risky, though. So many people are always coming and going.” She paused. “I suppose we could wear masks.”
Teraeth covered half his face with a hand. He had never wanted to not do a thing so badly in his entire life. “So this is what it feels like to be Kihrin. I’ve always wondered.”
“Would someone mind explaining to the people who’ve never lived here?” Xivan asked mildly.
Talon was only too eager to be the person providing context. “Lefoarnan’s is a velvet house.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, dear,” Valathea scolded. “We don’t have velvet houses in the Manol. Lefoarnan’s is a sex club.”
Senera’s eyes narrowed. “You’re joking.”
“Oh. Oh, how I wish they were.” Teraeth eyed his father. “I suppose if I never left my room, I might survive this with my sanity intact. Maybe.”
The horrible part of it all was that Teraeth loved Lefoarnan’s. He would have been thrilled at the opportunity to show Kihrin or Janel—or best still, Kihrin and Janel—the resort’s many amenities. And here he was, going to Lefoarnan’s with absolutely no one that he might otherwise enjoy being at Lefoarnan’s with.
He sighed. At least this would keep him focused.
Lefoarnan’s wasn’t even really a sex club when one got right down to it. Yes, there definitely were parts of the resort where that was an easily accessible option, but other buildings were dedicated to elaborate baths (perhaps a bit of sex also occurred there), massage parlors (there as well), a spectacularly elaborate garden (yes, fine, there too), theaters (yes), dining venues, sports arenas, gaming rooms, music halls, and a museum. If one wanted, it was possible to spend quite a bit of time at Lefoarnan’s without ever seeing anyone nude at all.
But seriously, what was the fun of that?
Teraeth would have been extremely grumpy about the whole thing, except he found himself too worried sick about Janel to care. Senera had used her Cornerstone and come back with the extremely unsettling information that Suless, and thus Janel, was now to be found at the palace.
She’d evidently run straight to King Kelanis.
“Oh, he’s going to regret that,” Talea said.
Teraeth, Senera, Talea, and Xivan had all gathered together in the common area of their suite to talk. Teraeth would have liked to have included Doc, Valathea, and Khaeriel, but they were preparing for the trial. They couldn’t let anything distract them from the upcoming parliament hearing, which Teraeth understood, even if he didn’t like it.
Teraeth didn’t know where Talon had gone, but none of the others seemed particularly concerned, so he didn’t ask.
“I don’t care if he regrets it or not,” Teraeth said. “I just want Janel back.”
“We all want her back—” An odd look crossed Senera’s features, and she looked around as if checking to see if anyone had noticed her do something embarrassing.1 She shook her head. “You know, the sooner this is all over with, the sooner I can go home. I was ordered to help kill a god-queen, not rescue a Quuros revolutionary.”
Teraeth’s lips curled up as he watched her. Senera was, as he saw it, an interesting opportunity. He knew what she’d done at Atrine, and he knew who she worked for. He’d been quite serious about the idea that he couldn’t trust her. But even with that said, he could still learn quite a bit from her.
And people hesitated when they thought they were being forced to make a move against friends. He wouldn’t, but Senera might.2
They’d ended up setting up shop in a collection of cottages that Lefoarnan’s kept on its sprawling estate, although in this case “cottages” meant a collection of hanging buildings linked together by delicate enclosed staircases and surrounded by artful arrays of flowers. All completely safe, but with spectacular views and the general assumption that the people staying there might well be too occupied with each other to enjoy the rest of Lefoarnan’s pleasures. They’d been told they could stay as long as they liked—or at least as long as it took for the front desk clerk to realize they’d been paid in nothing more than Chainbreaker’s illusions.
While technically there was nothing stopping Teraeth from donning an illusion and playing, he found himself remarkably disinclined to take advantage of the opportunity. Because the very real possibility of accidentally running into his father while both of them were cloaked in illusions and unable to recognize each other was the stuff of nightmares, tragedies, and the blackest comedies. Technically, the vané had no incest taboo. Technically. The reality was a different matter. And he was starting to feel nearly the same about Valathea. Khaeriel? Incredibly awkward, especially if Kihrin ever found out. Either Xivan or Talea were both lovely, but also clearly so involved with each other they had no interest in anyone else. Senera was a nonstarter. Talon had vanished; when Teraeth informed Khaeriel, he was informed she’d been sent on a mission, and he didn’t need to know the details.3
“Kelanis doesn’t know Suless like we do,” Xivan pointed out. She was sitting on a wide couch with Talea’s head in her lap, stroking the other woman’s hair. The ant bites had long since been healed, and both women seemed to be enjoying their stay. “Is there any way we can sneak into the palace? Although I’m not sure what we’d do even if that were possible, considering the sigil didn’t work.”
Senera glanced up from the table where she had spread out numerous papers, the Name of All Things, and all her drawing supplies. “It would have worked if Suless was a demon. We need to come up with a plan B.”
“There’s always plan C,” Xivan said.
Talea made a face. “What’s plan C again?”
“We kill Janel.” Xivan didn’t sound like she was joking.
Teraeth gave the idea serious consideration for a few seconds. Killing Janel might well work, in that Thaena could then Return her with Janel’s soul and without Suless’s. The problem was that he couldn’t count on Thaena to do it. Now that Senera had explained how Janel had been consecrated (if unwillingly) to Suless at one point, Teraeth had a nasty suspicion that Suless would claim Janel as one of her angels. That was territory that even one of the Eight Immortals might hesitate to break, no matter how much Teraeth wished it otherwise. And Thaena might be too busy to get to Janel before Xaltorath did.
“No,” he finally said. “Too many uncertainties. I’m for it if we have no other choice, but I’d rather we try to find a different solution.”
Talea threw him a disappointed look, which Teraeth was certain involved his willingness to entertain the idea at all rather than his rejection of it.
“And anyway,” Teraeth added, “after the assassination attempt on the king, security is so tight, I’m pretty sure they’re giving full-body searches to the butterflies.” He shifted in his seat, threw one leg over the arm of the chair. “I’ll be damned if I’m giving up this easily.”
“It’s a real shame someone can’t just go to the Afterlife and lead Janel back to her body,” Talea said. “I mean, she can cross the Second Veil on her own, right? She’d be like—”
“Like a demon possessing a body.” Teraeth raised himself up and turned to Senera. “I can go to the Afterlife—”
“You mean commit suicide,” she corrected.
Teraeth rolled his eyes. “Yes, fine. But I can’t navigate while I’m there. I don’t have a way to orient my position in the Afterlife to Suless’s location in the Living World, assuming I could even locate Janel.” He chewed on his lip. “The Afterlife’s a big place.”
“What about what Relos Var did to me?” Xivan suggested.
Teraeth paused. “As I wasn’t there, mind explaining?”
Senera’s gaze turned contemplative as she began chewing on the back of her calligraphy brush. “The closest we can come to resurrecting someone right now—because of Thaena”—at this, she gave Teraeth a dirty look—“is set out a magical beacon a soul can home in on, then grab that soul and stuff it back into its native body. But since the body is dead, the link is … artificial. Weak. So you end up with someone like Xivan. No offense.”
“None taken.”
Teraeth swung both feet down, stood, and began to pace. He felt manic, full of energy. He desperately wanted to do something, and none of his usual outlets were available at the moment. “That might work. What form does this beacon take? How long does it take to work? What do you need to make it happen?”
“I can make it as a sigil,” Senera said. “I have the necessary supplies already, and as for how long … it’s different for everyone. Janel’s physical body will need to be in relative proximity to the sigil for at least a few hours. If it were any other soul, I’d then need to do all sorts of things to pull it to this side of the Veil, but Talea’s right. Janel can handle that part on her own.”
“But we’re right back to the problem of being unable to break into the palace,” Xivan said. “We can’t get close enough to her.”
Teraeth started laughing. Of course. “The hearing,” he said. “We can do it at the hearing.”
Xivan frowned. “We can’t be sure she’ll attend.”
“No.” Senera pointed to Teraeth with her brush. “He’s right. Suless thrives on discord, betrayal, and malice. A hearing like this? With a background of sibling murder, palace coups, and arguing for the fate of the entire vané people? Expecting Suless to stay away would be like asking Rebel to resist a juicy steak. There’s no way she won’t attend unless she’s Kelanis’s prisoner.” She thought that over for a moment before shaking her head. “Which I doubt.”
Teraeth tapped one foot on the ground, nervous energy leaking out. “This sigil, does it have to be carved or written on anything in particular?”
“Any material I can mark on will work. Normal paper is the easiest. I can complete all but one part of the sigil and then someone—me, you, someone else—only has to draw a single line before it will start calling. Then we wait.”
“Good. Then that sounds like a plan.”
“And if she doesn’t show up for the hearing?” Talea asked.
Teraeth wished she wouldn’t ask questions when she already knew perfectly well what the answer was. “Then we go to plan C.”