They rose higher and higher into Elcho Falling, first via the main staircase, then via alternate secondary stairwells. Maximilian led the way, holding Ishbel’s hand. They did not speak, but occasionally Maximilian would turn his head and give Ishbel such a look that she began to wish, fairly desperately, that they would arrive at their destination shortly.
“Maxel?” she eventually said, pulling his hand so that they stopped halfway up one stairwell that had as its outer barrier a virtually translucent wall of stone. Beyond was the sky, and the occasional flash of a wing as either an Icarii or Lealfast tumbled by.
The sound of the slowly turning crown was far louder here, and Ishbel could hear it thrumming through her entire body.
“It isn’t far,” Maximilian said. “Come, Ishbel, see what kind of marriage chamber I have created for you. It is my gift. I asked Josia not to show you this trick during your lessons.”
“Are we going to climb all the way to the top?” Ishbel said, and Maximilian smiled at the tone of her voice.
“In a manner of speaking,” he said. “Come now, it isn’t far.”
He tugged at her hand, and they ascended another three or four twists of the stairwell until, quite suddenly, they came to a blank wall of apparently solid, cream-colored stone.
Maximilian pulled Ishbel close to him, their linked hands raised to chest height so that they were the only things that separated their bodies. Once again he pressed the back of his hand against Ishbel’s sternum. “All of my strength,” he said softly, “in the beat of your heart.”
Then he moved their hands against the stone of the wall.
“My name is Maximilian Persimius,” he said, “Lord of Elcho Falling. This is my lady, Ishbel Brunelle Persimius. Allow us entry, if you will.”
And suddenly the wall was no more, and there was another staircase rising before them.
“This one will not take long,” said Maximilian, pulling Ishbel close enough that he could kiss her briefly but with some considerable passion. He led her toward the stairs, and as soon as they were past the space where the wall had been, Ishbel heard a soft sound and she looked back.
The wall had once more returned into place.
“It will always move for us,” Maximilian said, “but for no one else. Where this stairwell leads, Ishbel, is for you and me only.”
He led her up the stairs, still holding her hand, and within moments they emerged into a circular chamber that brought Ishbel to a complete halt.
“Don’t fear,” Maximilian said, then he gave a soft laugh. “It is spectacular, though, isn’t it?”
They were at the very top of Elcho Falling in a circular chamber that appeared to have no roof or walls at all. It was as if they stood on a platform high in the sky. It was dusk now—how long had they been climbing? Ishbel wondered—and outside, amid the early stars in the violet sky, she could see Lealfast and Icarii continuing their tumble of joy through the air and between the great bands of the crown, still in their slow, sweeping dance through the sky.
Thrum.
Thrum.
Thrum.
Ishbel could not hear the movement so much as feel it. The bands were very close, just beyond the edge of the large platform, and she thought their movement and vibration might have been disturbing…but, no. That deep, gentle thrumming was as comforting as a heartbeat.
She looked up again. An Icarii had tumbled very close to their chamber.
“They cannot see us,” said Maximilian, “and I can, if you wish, close off our view of them.” He paused, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’m sure they’ll get tired, or hungry, and go to roost soon.”
He gave a gentle tug on her hand, and Ishbel walked a little further into the chamber. It was simply but elegantly furnished—luxuriously upholstered daybeds and chairs, low tables and gleaming sideboards and chests, and a bed, modestly made with cream linens in the very heart of the chamber.
He saw her eyes light on the bed and pulled her very close. “Do you want me to close off the view of the night sky?” he murmured.
“No. Leave it.”
They kissed, moving slowly against each other in the initial steps of a long, loving dance. Maximilian slid his hands into her hair, and shook out all the pins of pearls and diamonds, allowing the waves of her fair hair to cascade over her shoulders and back.
She pulled back a little from him. “You have a ring of mine, I believe.”
“Are you sure you want it back? I remember how terrified you were of it that first time I slid it on your finger.”
“I want it back, Maxel.”
“Shall I make you beg?”
She laughed, sliding her hands inside his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt. “Shall I look for it myself?”
“That could be amusing.”
They kissed again, far more fervently, moving ever closer to the bed.
Then Maximilian took a step back, laughing a little shakily. “The ring, Ishbel.” He removed the ruby and emerald ring from the inner pocket of his jacket, then, completely sober, he took Ishbel’s right hand, interlacing their fingers, the ring sandwiched between their palms.
Hello, Ishbel, the ring said. There is a decision that needs to be made.
“Maxel?” Ishbel said.
“Ishbel, I need to tell you now what Isaiah has told me.”
“You choose your moments very carefully, don’t you, Maxel?”
“When Isaiah was with the One, in his presence the One made a curse. Before the One stripped Isaiah of his power, he allowed Isaiah to see that the curse was a reality—not a threat, not a maybe, but a reality. It exists, and needs only two simple actions to become unbreakable. Because of the blood link from our daughter to the One, he is closely linked to us, and that is what gave him the power to create this—”
“What curse, Maxel?”
Maximilian squeezed his hand slightly, pressing the ring deeper into Ishbel’s palm. “The One has cursed this ring, Ishbel, and you and I and Elcho Falling with it. If I slip this ring on your finger, wedding you to me, if we sleep together, thus consummating the marriage, then so also I marry the One to Elcho Falling. Its fate is his fate. Destroy him, and I destroy Elcho Falling. It also means that should the One come marching up to the front arch of Elcho Falling, then Elcho Falling will surrender itself to him.”
Ishbel’s eyes widened. “It is the vision that Ravenna saw!”
She tried to lean away and pull her hand from Maximilian’s, but he held her tight against him, and gripped her hand with his.
“Don’t,” he said. “Please, please, hear me out. Trust me.”
“This curse cannot be undone?”
“No.”
“And Isaiah is certain it is a reality? It has been made?”
“Yes.”
“Maxel, we can’t marry if—”
“Listen to me, Ishbel. Do you think we stand a chance with all that confronts us if we stay apart?” He took a deep breath. “Ishbel, I think the One fears us—”
“Thus he has so neatly cursed us.” She gave a short, humorless laugh. “How can he fear us now? We can do nothing against him—at least not if you slip that ring on my finger, Maxel.”
“The One constructed the curse in Isaiah’s presence to torment him and, eventually, us. He wanted to crow his victory. He wanted us to weep, knowing he had won. He stripped Isaiah of his power so that Isaiah had to crawl through Isembaard and then through the Salamaan Pass in a desperate attempt to reach us before—” again Maximilian pressed the ring into Ishbel’s flesh “—I slipped this ring on your finger and bore you down to my bed. Isaiah was always sure he would be too late…but by a miracle he found a horse to speed his journey, and then by another miracle he discovered Lamiah, and then, another miracle, the Enchanter StarHeaven, who got a message to Axis…just in time.”
“Then we must take the chance that has been given us, Maxel.”
“Indeed we must, Ishbel. I will slip this ring on your finger as soon as you say I might.”
“Maxel? But that would mean—”
He laughed, kissing her mouth to stop her words. “Ishbel, think about it. Think about how carefully staged all this was. The One waits until he falls over Isaiah to create this curse, allows Isaiah to recognize its reality while Isaiah still has power to understand it, then strips Isaiah of his power and sends him on a long wander into despair in a futile attempt to get a message to me before I put this ring on your finger. But, lo! A miracle! Isaiah finds a horse that the Skraelings had somehow managed not to eat, then he rides it all the way through Skraeling-infested territory, still without it being eaten, and, lo, Isaiah manages to get the message to me just in time!”
Ishbel’s mouth curved in a small smile. “Ah.”
“Ah, indeed, my beautiful love. I think that the One is desperate that I do not slip this ring on your finger. I think that the very last thing he wants is you and I, united, and bound to him…what if that does not curse us, but gives us power? He is giving us a reason not to marry, because that is what he fears more than anything else. Yes, the curse exists…but what if it is a curse against the One, not us? He made sure we were warned, Ishbel. He made absolutely certain that we learned of the message in time.”
“You think that the curse can work for us, not against us?”
“Yes. The One is terrified of us united, because somehow—I do not know the full intricacies of this yet—we are all three tightly bound.”
“You are asking me, us, to take a huge risk.”
“Yes. I know.”
“The One’s curse corresponds to Ravenna’s vision, Maxel.”
“And where did that vision come from, eh?”
“What if it was true?”
“The One has been doing all he can to make me set you aside, Ishbel.”
She was quiet a moment, thinking. “Could we unwind this curse?”
“I don’t know. It’s probable that we can’t. We’ll know more when Isaiah arrives.”
“But in the meantime…”
“We can do what we want more than anything, and which the One desperately hopes we don’t. I slip this ring on your finger, and we marry.”
“Axis knows about this curse?”
“Yes.”
“He’ll be furious.”
“He’s not in this chamber, right here and now. Ishbel, I don’t want to talk about Axis.”
“I’m trying to hedge for time while I think.”
“Ishbel, the One fears us. I think he fears you far more than me, but more than that he fears us united. He doesn’t want us to marry.”
“So you keep saying, but that could be just desperate hope. Why would the One fear me?”
“Because of your heritage. Because of your direct blood link back to the time when Boaz and Tirzah defeated the pyramid but failed to destroy it. Tirzah was pregnant with your ancestress during that battle. I think that there is something, some lesson or some power, that the growing baby imbibed about the pyramid, or from it, that has been passed down through her line to you.”
He paused. “Besides, Ishbel, do you honestly think we’re stronger apart than together?”
She smiled, and he knew he had her. “No.”
He held her close, again pressing their hands together around the ring. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes. Utterly.”
“Do you want to be my wife, the Lady of Elcho Falling?”
She smiled again. “Absolutely.”
“Will you wear this ring? Ishbel, in asking you this, I am asking you to jump off a cliff blindly. As you said, it is a huge risk, and I have no idea how to play this curse. I do not know how to keep the One out of Elcho Falling if he appears at our gates. I do not know how—”
Ishbel put the fingers of her free hand over his mouth. “Yes,” she said, “I will wear your ring.”
Then she leaned back, taking her hand from his mouth and held it out, spearing her fingers, for the ring.
He grinned. “Not just yet.”
He removed his hand from hers, taking the ring, and placed it on the bed. Then he came back to Ishbel and gently tipped her face up. “Look.”
It was full night now, and the night was blanketed in stars. All the Icarii and Lealfast had gone.
The vast rings of the crown rotated slowly, appearing almost as if they caught some of the stars in their golden orbits.
“Tonight is a night of great power,” Maximilian murmured, kissing Ishbel’s neck and slowly unfastening her gown. “It is a good night to make a marriage.”
“And a good night to make a curse,” Ishbel said.
Maximilian slid the gown from her shoulders, running his hands over her breasts. “It is a good night to make an alliance,” he said, “and to make love.”
“It is a good night,” Ishbel said, stepping out of her gown and moving into Maximilian’s arms, “to come home.”
They lay naked on the bed, touching, kissing, not talking.
The Queen’s ring lay to one side of them, its gems glinting gold from time to time as, outside, the bands of the crown drifted lazily by.
Thrum.
Thrum.
Thrum.
They kissed, moving more urgently against each other now, and finally Maximilian reached over and picked up the ring.
He ran his hand down her outstretched arm, using the ring to caress her skin, his other hand in her hair, holding her head still so that he could kiss her once more.
“I prefer this night to that when first you put this ring to my finger,” she said, finally moving her mouth away from his.
He smiled, moving his body against hers, running the ring down over her hand. Their eyes met, his again asking the question.
“Yes,” she said, “I will wear your ring. Let us make this marriage, Maxel, here and now, in this chamber that you have made for me, and on this night of power. Let us make this curse, and let it give us power.”
Maximilian shifted the ring so that it sat poised at the end of her finger. He took a deep breath, hesitant in this final moment, and she smiled for him, and moved her hand so that the ring slid down to the base of her finger.
“See,” she said, “it is done.”
“It is done,” Maximilian whispered, and raised himself up and slid inside her body.
The One looked up from where he stood just outside Hairekeep. Behind and stretching far to the west ranged the Skraeling army.
They were crouched low, ready, awaiting a single command.
Their eyes stared north, unblinking.
“So,” the One said, “it is done.” He took a deep breath. “If that is the way you want it, my Lord of Elcho Falling, then that is the way it shall be. It is of no matter to me.”
To one side the red tabby cat rose from the ground, stretched, then wound about the One’s legs.
The One sighed, concentrated, then spoke a single word.
Eleanon.
He waited, and nodded in satisfaction as Eleanon responded in his mind.
We begin soon, the One said. Be ready.
He glanced up into the night sky.
Bingaleal? the One said. Are you ready?
Ready to kill, Bingaleal said, and the One smiled, and nodded.
“Soon,” he whispered. “Soon.”
They spent that night in the bed under the stars and the slow sweep of the crown of Elcho Falling, talking, touching, and making love. They spoke of their separate lives with each other: Ishbel’s time alone in the house of her parents with their corpses, her life at Serpent’s Nest, the men she had sent to the grave when she’d slit open their bellies; Maximilian talked of his childhood and training and his father’s tutelage, of the black despair of the seventeen years in the Veins, and of his years as a resurrected king, marking time until he met Ishbel.
They talked of their daughter eventually, Ishbel weeping a little, Maximilian kissing the faint marks left by her pregnancy on her belly.
“Salome wanted me to hold her newborn son,” Ishbel said to Maximilian, cuddling as close to him as she could. “I couldn’t do it. She knew why.”
“Perhaps we should have another child.”
“Should we? After, perhaps, all this is done.”
“And we in our dotage? Why don’t we leave it to fate, Ishbel, and accept whatever happens?”
“I fear having another baby, Maxel.”
“Because of what we have done tonight? Married each other and the One to Elcho Falling?”
“Only partly. I fear losing another child. I don’t think I could survive it.”
He moved her hand so that its back lay against his sternum. “In the beat of my heart,” he said.
Her mouth curved in a small smile. “I shall find my strength.”
In the morning, when they rose, it was to see a dark stain of men and horses across the western horizon.
They stood together at the edge of the platform, watching silently.
“Armat,” Maximilian murmured.
“Within that army,” Ishbel said, “Armat is not your true enemy.”