63. THE KING RETURNS

Janel’s story

The Mother of Trees, the Manol

Noon

Janel felt like she was being pulled in multiple directions at the same time. On the one hand, she wanted to be there for Doc’s resurrection. On the other hand, something bad was happening with Tyentso. Janel had only met the woman once, but she’d made a good impression.

And if Janel harbored not so-secret desires to see the Quuros Empire fall, she didn’t want it to happen in literal flames. Tyentso had, if only briefly, given Janel the faint hope that such a transition—from oligarchy to something kinder—might happen peacefully.

That was seeming more and more like a dream. The problem with duchies, countries, empires—governments—was that they were all ultimately cute little labels for the purpose of describing giant collections of living, breathing people. It was too easy to forget that. Revolution was such a pretty word until one realized that in the turning over societal order, a great many people always fell to their deaths. Even the Joratese version of rebellion, the most bloodless that Janel had ever encountered, that she had ever even heard of in any of her lives, generally only happened after someone had made such monumental mistakes that it resulted in mass casualties.

Janel felt sure that losing the empire would be more advantageous to their enemies than to them.

If there was any advantage to the seeming invasion of the vané palace by as many Quuros as it had probably ever hosted in the entirety of its existence, it was that matters were in such a state of chaos that no one noticed what they were doing. Doc’s body had to be transferred from the preservation room where it was being kept to Valathea’s private quarters, all without anyone noticing. Likewise, the group themselves needed to quietly congregate in Valathea’s rooms. This was where the chaotic comings and goings were especially useful.

When Janel arrived, Talon was already there, since the mimic didn’t need to leave the royal wing of the palace in order to go from Teraeth’s rooms to Valathea’s.

Doc’s body waited for them, resting on the couch, covered with a cloth. Had the cloth been tucked under his chin, it might’ve been possible to pretend he was just sleeping.

“You can do this, yes?” Valathea didn’t snap at the other woman, but her concern and worry were palpable, prickly points to her normally smooth mannerisms.

Xivan started to answer, then visibly startled and gave a hard glare to an empty area of the room. Janel immediately knew that Khae must have said something—probably something nasty. Xivan returned her attention to Valathea and said, “It might take me a little while. I’m learning as I go. But don’t worry, I can do this.”

---

Which proved to be true, just not fast. It was afternoon before she finished.

Xivan slumped back into one of the chairs, the relief and exhaustion on her face both evident. Talea reached over and squeezed the woman’s hand.

Doc sat up, gasping, his hand searching around him as if for a weapon.

“Darling.” Valathea sat down next to him, drew her hand across his cheek. There was a moment of profound silence as Doc stared back at his wife and then looked around the room. His mouth opened, but no words came as he saw his son, Teraeth, and his best friend, Therin, Kihrin and Janel, Talea and Xivan.

“I’m—” Doc winced as his voice came out in a rasp.

Kihrin poured a goblet of water and handed it to him. Lunch was still spread out on a nearby table, and thankfully, nobody had complained that Janel had been picking at the food the entire time.

“Thank you,” Doc murmured. His gaze once more sought out his wife and son. “You’re here, so I’m guessing things went well. On the other hand, this is a very small, private group, so I’m guessing things didn’t go that well.”

Therin leaned over and punched Doc’s shoulder. “Goatbrains, who told you it was fine to trade your life for mine?”

“Khaeriel,” Doc answered and then grimaced. “All right, fine. She didn’t explicitly say that, but I feel pretty strongly that she would have, if she’d known what I was planning. You didn’t … you didn’t see how she reacted after you died, Therin. No way was I letting her be the one Thaena took out her frustrations on. Speaking of, where is Khaeriel?”

“She’s fine,” Janel said, holding a bowl of fruit in one hand while she ate with the other. “Just keeping to her rooms right now. Thaena, Galava, Argas, and Taja? Not so fine. So a bit of a mixed bag in terms of how things have gone.” She didn’t ask him if he remembered what had happened to him in the Afterlife. She didn’t think it likely that he would.

Doc wrapped the blanket that had been draped over him more tightly around himself. He was dressed—since the whole point of this exercise had been to bring him back from the dead, leaving him naked had seemed rude. “How—” He licked his lips, frowning. “If Thaena and Galava are both dead, how am I here?”

“We didn’t need Galava,” Valathea explained, “because Khaemezra killed you without damaging your physical body, which your”—she smiled—“subjects were quick to preserve. And as for Thaena, we found a substitute.”

Janel fought back laughter as Xivan waved hello to Doc. Without context, that must have seemed inexplicable. Especially since Doc knew Xivan—and knew she wasn’t even a wizard, let alone someone of god-level powers.

“I don’t understand,” Doc said.

“That’s fine,” Teraeth said. “The most important thing is that you overturned the Law of Daynos.”

Doc blinked at his son.

“Because that means,” Teraeth continued, “that I’m not king anymore. You are.”1 He pointed a forefinger at his father. “And from the bottom of my heart, a most sincere thank-you, because I have places to be and people to kill—namely, Relos Var.”

“Don’t forget Xaltorath,” Janel reminded him.

“Sure, of course,” Teraeth said, “but I assumed you had first rights to that?”

“That’s so sweet, but I’m willing to share,” Janel said. “Everyone can help.”

“How did—” Doc shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m still processing that Thaena’s dead. That … really? Taja?”

“Yes and no,” Talea said. “Do you want something to eat? I don’t think Janel’s eaten everything from lunch yet, or we could send out for something. If you want us to tell you what happened, it’ll take a while. It’s a bit of a story.”

“It’s not that much of one,” Kihrin/Talon said. “Thaena decided that if she couldn’t perform the Ritual of Night, next best was to tweak the ritual to affect a country instead of a race. So she tried to wipe out the vané, and in the battle to stop her, Argas, Taja, Galava, and Thaena herself were killed. With them out of the way, Relos Var’s happily skipping along toward whatever nastiness he’s been planning from the start while Khored and Tya desperately run around trying to put out demon fires.”

Talea wrinkled her nose at the mimic. “You left out the part where the Guardians had figured out how to pass along their positions, so while Khaemezra and Eshimavari are both dead, Thaena and Taja are not.”

Doc blinked. “What was that?”

“I’m the new Thaena,” Xivan said, then raised Talea’s hand, still held in hers. “And this is the new Taja. Not that we’ve got the full powers of either goddess yet, but it was enough for me to put your souls back in your body.”

Doc’s expression reflected profound shock. “I … I see.”

“There’s more,” Teraeth said.

Janel fought not to wince. She really wasn’t looking forward to explaining this part. It’s why she’d argued so hard against having Therin in the room, but it was just impossible to keep him out without explaining why he might end up breaking furniture.

So this was going to be uncomfortable. She regarded Teraeth with miles of fondness for stepping up to take the hit.

Teraeth took a deep breath. And then didn’t say anything.

“Anytime, handsome,” Kihrin said. “We’ve got all day, and I’m sure Doc’s in zero hurry to go somewhere private and play happy reunion with his pretty wife.”

“Fuck off,” Teraeth muttered absently. “I’m trying to decide how I want to explain this.” He inhaled. “All right. So Kihrin is reasonably sure that part of Relos Var’s plan includes getting rid of the demons. Now, the way in which he thinks Var is likely to do this wouldn’t affect Xaltorath, which means Var probably won’t move forward with those plans until he’s first taken care of the demon.”

“None of that sounds like a problem…” Even as Doc said that, he was giving Teraeth and Kihrin an odd look.

Easy enough to understand why. Teraeth had acted like Kihrin was absent when it was obvious that he was right there. Valathea gave Kihrin a considered look; Janel suspected she was debating how much it would disrupt the current conversation to reveal Talon wasn’t really Kihrin. The answer must have been “a lot” since she didn’t do it.

“Agreed,” Xivan said, who was also frowning.

“Let me finish explaining,” Teraeth said. “So none of that would be a problem, except for one small detail—the demons we’ve been fighting, the demons who invaded—all those demons were originally humans from the same universe the first settlers were from.”

“Bullshit,” Doc said.

“Ridiculous,” Valathea agreed.

Janel felt a spike of pure adrenaline. Because it wasn’t ridiculous or bullshit at all. In fact, it would explain a great deal. And hadn’t Xaltorath hinted …

“Oh Veils,” she said. “‘What’s the difference between a human and a demon? Time.’ Xaltorath bragged about it.”²

“I don’t, um—” Talea’s eyes were wide.

“Janel,” Xivan said gently. “Slow down and explain it to the rest of us. You know how you get when you jump ahead a dozen steps.”

“We always knew,” Janel said, “that demons who were originally infected humans would return to being normal noninfected humans once they entered the Font of Souls and the cycle of reincarnation. The Font realigns them with this universe. That was how Thaena cured them. But if all demons were originally human, then…” She looked back at Teraeth. “How many souls are we talking about?”

“A lot,” Teraeth said. “All the souls of everyone the settlers left behind in that other universe, apparently.”

Valathea turned white.

“That would be a large number,” the vané queen whispered. “A very large number.”

Janel rubbed her temple. “More people than have ever existed on this world, yes.”

“I spoke to my mother in the Afterlife,” Teraeth said, raising a hand as that won him incredulous looks. “Yes, she’s there now. Anyway, she said that she thinks that at least half the population may be comprised of these ‘cleansed’ demon souls. She and Galava had figured out that it was happening, but since it seemed to be in everyone’s best interests, they didn’t make a fuss about it.”

“Let’s hope she’s right,” Thurvishar said, “because Kihrin theorized that the Font may well have never created human souls, simply because the numbers are so large that it never would have needed to. If so, then if Relos Var does target these demons using a ritual, he might well wipe out everyone who isn’t either an original settler or the reincarnation of one.”

Janel felt a little dizzy. She looked around the room: the vast majority of people present wouldn’t meet the qualification of “original settler.”

Doc pointed a finger at Kihrin. “Can we pause for just a moment and talk about why you keep referring to Kihrin like he’s not in the room when he’s right there.” He squinted at his wife. “Are you using illusions? Or is someone else?”

“Yes, and yes,” Valathea said, “but it’s not what you think.”

“Let’s deal with that later,” Talon suggested. “Fun as I know that conversation is going to be, I’m still trying to wrap my head around ‘demons can be reincarnated as humans.’”

“Another universe?” Talea said. Her eyes flicked to the side. “Oh. Really? I didn’t know that.” Talea’s conversation with an invisible person might have looked like the behavior of someone less than sane if Janel didn’t know about her phantom tutor in godhood.

Therin started to say something. Instead, he walked over to the table and poured himself a cup of tea.

Janel cleared her throat. “So yes. Another universe. We came to this universe from a different one, but not all of our race made the trip. We left a lot of people behind. Far more than we brought with us. Something must have happened to them. Something—” She bit her lip while she chased down the thought. Time, Xaltorath had said. Time must have moved more quickly in that other universe, must have given some calamity the opportunity to unfurl. They must have decided that diabolism was the most appropriate solution to whatever problem plagued them. “I need to talk to Kihrin,” she murmured.

“The good news is that’s more possible than I’d originally thought,” Teraeth confessed. “But the main point: the timetable has escalated. Now we don’t just need to stop Relos Var, we need to stop him from wiping out at least half of humanity.”

Silence.

“Well, that’s not ideal,” Talea said. “Do you think Relos Var realizes?”

“It wouldn’t matter,” Janel said. “It wouldn’t even slow him down. As long as enough people remain to safely continue the species, he’s willing to kill all the rest.”

Valathea shuddered. Her violet eyes were haunted as they caught Janel’s. “This is my fault. You tried to tell me how dangerous the man was. I should have listened to you.”

An almost physical pain lanced through Janel. “You did listen to me. If you hadn’t, maybe Relos Var wouldn’t have felt like he needed to sacrifice his own brother to gain what the Assembly denied him.”

“Can we not point fingers for an event that happened over four thousand years ago?” Teraeth suggested. “I think that ship has sailed.” He waved a hand. “Anyway, you all needed to know about that, but truthfully, I don’t know that it changes anything other than just making it that much more important that Relos Var not finish any fun rituals. The moment Relos Var felt Vol Karoth escape, he would have started hunting Xaltorath. And we have to assume that Xaltorath knows too by this point—”

“Wait, Vol Karoth’s free?” Doc straightened. “I thought that wasn’t supposed to happen for years yet!”

“We’re ahead of schedule,” Janel murmured.

“It’s fine,” Teraeth said.

“How is that fine?” Doc started to stand. He looked like he was about to go running off, although Janel had no idea what he thought he’d accomplish.

Teraeth put his hand on his father’s shoulder and pushed him back down. “Finish. Listening.” His gaze shifted from his father to his stepmother then, and turned contemplative.

Janel had a feeling she knew what he was thinking. Teraeth was wondering just how secure this conversation was, even with all the precautions they’d taken. It was so easy to be paranoid about this when so much was at stake.

Talea caught Janel’s eye and winked.

Doc sat back down on the couch. “Explain, then.”

Teraeth cleared his throat. “As I was saying. Relos Var and Xaltorath are preparing for what they think is the endgame. Part of that means moving to take control of Vol Karoth, whom they both think is a puppet they can control.” Teraeth inhaled.

Here it comes, Janel thought.

“What they don’t know,” Teraeth continued, “is that Kihrin has beaten them to it.”

Valathea whirled in her stepson’s direction. “What? What do you mean?”

Teraeth started to answer, then gave Janel a pleading look.

She nodded to him, stepping forward to stand by his side. Janel put a hand behind her back so neither Doc nor his wife would see her clench it. “Xaltorath tricked me—or rather, tricked Elana Kandor—into cutting away part of Vol Karoth’s souls, which is how Kihrin ended up in a position to be born in the first place. The result was a Vol Karoth who was badly damaged on a spiritual and mental level—little more than an angry child and not quite as intelligent. Xaltorath thus assumed that Vol Karoth would be in no position to stand against his plans. And since Relos Var needs to be able to control Vol Karoth, this fit nicely with his plans as well. So Kihrin fixed the damage. He—”

“What?” Valathea repeated.

“What does that mean?” Therin asked. “Fixed the damage how?”

Doc put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. His expression grim, he looked back at Janel. “What exactly did that idiot do?”

“He fixed the damage,” Teraeth said. “I suppose, if you want to look at it this way, he killed Vol Karoth. In the process, he Returned S’arric.”

“He would have had to use his own souls,” Valathea said with an utterly horrified expression. “It would have either left him as damaged as you say Vol Karoth had been previously, or it would have … it would have…”

Therin glared at Janel, sharp enough to tear flesh. “You told me my son was still alive.” He didn’t bother making it sound like anything other than an accusation.

“He is,” Janel repeated.

“He’s just in a different body now,” Talon interjected. “And hey, I know at least two people in this room who know what that’s like. Three if someone wants to go fetch Khaeriel.”

Doc slowly turned and stared at “Kihrin,” who waved a hand back again.

“Talon,” Doc said.

“In the flesh,” Talon agreed. “But pretend I’m Kihrin, please. We really want that to be our little secret until it’s time to let Relos Var in on the joke.” She glanced down at her fingers. “But honestly, I hope we’re done with this soon, because all this ‘being good’ and ‘nice’ is seriously ruining my fun. I had no idea Kihrin was such a killjoy.”

“Lyrilyn,” Talea chided. “Behave.”

Talon glanced over at the woman and huffed.

“So is my son…?” Therin paused whatever he’d been about to say. “Where is he now?”

“Roaming around the world pretending to be a damaged and broken Vol Karoth,” Teraeth said, “so neither Relos Var nor Xaltorath realize that anything’s changed.”

“Pretending to be Vol Karoth?” Valathea’s voice had gone cold. “Or is he just … actually Vol Karoth?”

Janel winced. She knew Valathea well enough to be able to tell that the woman was furious.

The silence, as they all tried to think of something to say, was probably answer enough.

“He’s fulfilling the prophecies.” Therin’s voice sounded choked. “You’re telling me that he’s fulfilling those fucking prophecies.”

“The prophecies are a fiction,” Janel said. “They’ve always been a fiction. They’re not real. I’m not—” She paused. She really didn’t want to take the time to explain how those stupid things were both Xaltorath’s notes to herself and a way of manipulating the events that she’d wanted to occur. “Just trust me. They’re nonsense.”

“I have to say they’re feeling pretty real right now,” Therin snapped. “Tell me the Stone of Shackles was involved, that at least it’s my son’s souls in Vol Karoth’s body. Otherwise, I’m supposed to believe that a twenty-year-old boy just took over the mind of the God of Annihilation? Because that’s a hard sell.”

Janel and Teraeth looked at each other. The argument could have gone worse, but that wasn’t to say it was going at all well.

“Yes,” Teraeth answered. “That’s exactly what we’re saying. And yes, he did. And frankly, if that wasn’t true, he wouldn’t have helped recover my father from the Afterlife. Because Kihrin’s the one who made that possible. Without him, we wouldn’t be having this reunion right now.”

Valathea frowned. “I thought you three brought my husband’s souls back.” She pointed to Janel, Xivan, and Talea.

“We were supposed to, yes,” Talea agreed. “It just didn’t work. He wasn’t where we thought he’d be.” She shrugged. “Fortunately, Kihrin and Teraeth stumbled across him while they were doing something else. And take our word for it, it’s still Kihrin.”

“Yeah,” Talon agreed. “If he was really Vol Karoth, he’d be an entirely different flavor of massive killjoy.”

Valathea gave the mimic such a flat, hateful look that Janel knew instantly she’d just pieced together why Janel had been having trouble pretending the mimic was her lover. That Talon wasn’t doing such a fantastic job of impersonating Kihrin because she’d known him for years but because she’d eaten his corpse.³ Janel just had to hope that Valathea wouldn’t say anything—that bit of kindling was the last thing they needed added to the fire.

Doc stood up from the couch and moved over to the table, pulling a chair out and sitting down as though his legs had been cut out from under him. He poured himself a cup of coffee and loaded up a plate with a selection of mixed vegetables and unidentifiable meats. He didn’t eat or drink any of it, though, instead staring at the items for an awkwardly long period of time.

“Thank you for taking the time to explain,” he finally said. Doc looked up at his son. “I assume you didn’t just Return me out of politeness, though.”

“My love.” Valathea didn’t walk to his side so much as glide. She touched his face with a delicate hand, “I would have Returned you no matter what—”

“Everyone knows you’re dead,” Teraeth said. “And everyone knows you can’t be brought back to life because Thaena’s dead too.”

Janel smiled. “Which means no one’s looking for you. And since there’s no one alive who has more experience with Chainbreaker than you, we can use that.”