“We have lost track of the mortal.”
Ugu nodded calmly. He had already heard the same news. “It is of no great import, Cirrus. We will find him again, and while we know not exactly what he sought out at sea, we know — from where you have lost him — what he seeks on land.”
“Yes,” Cirrus said, a grim note in his voice. “An alliance with the Nome King.”
Cirrus followed Ugu as the King of Oz strode through the grey halls which had once been the colorful and open castle of Ozma, near the center of his own Grey Castle. In truth, Ugu regretted the absolute nature of that spell; he was not insensitive to beauty of color as well as symmetry. But it had been effective.
“You sound concerned, General.”
Cirrus’ smile was wry. “I would hardly be a General worthy of the name if I was not concerned over the possible reinforcement of my enemy by the largest army Faerie has ever seen.”
Ugu raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Majesty, perhaps even larger than yours and Queen Amanita’s. No,” he corrected himself, “certainly larger.”
The sorcerer realized that his General was deadly serious. “How is that possible?”
Cirrus looked slightly relieved that Ugu was giving him his full attention. “Simply put, because old Ruggedo was a suspicious and hostile sort, who trusted none of his neighbors and they, with good reason, never trusted him. He spent ages amassing and equipping his army, and it was never deployed in full force save for once — and in that one attempt, he actually lost no men, only their memories. And soldiers can be easily re-trained. Kaliko, while not being inclined to either conquest nor overly fearful, has seen absolutely no reason to weaken himself, and — with no disrespect meant — the actions of your Majesties have certainly given him every reason to increase rather than decrease his military might.”
Yes, I suppose they have. Were I in his position, I would certainly be building up my own forces. “How, then, do you evaluate the threat?”
Cirrus gave a slightly apologetic smile. “In all honesty, not terribly great. Firstly, I have yet to determine how any great force can be brought across the barrier spell, and without that, all the force they can assemble is, in the end, pointless posturing.
“However, even if they do have some nigh-miraculous way of bringing across their forces to confront mine…” Cirrus stiffened, a look of caution on his face, “…pardon, yours…”
Ugu chuckled. “Fear not. In warfare they shall indeed be yours, in the end, though working for our goals.”
“So. Even if they can reach us, individually their warriors are on average even less formidable than those of my former home. Oh, they have some quite dangerous individuals, and my agents have given us some intelligence indicating that the Nome King may have constructed some impressive war machines; still, while his forces may outnumber ours, even combined with those of Iris Mirabilis I do not believe it will be enough…even,” Cirrus added with a sharp smile, “if they knew that I was to direct the defense of Oz.”
“Which,” Ugu said, returning the smile, “they almost certainly do not.” He was happy to see that smile — and that very feeling, the warmth of knowing that a…friend…was recovering from a justifiably deep and conflicted period of gloom, startled him. How strange this is. Never did I think of any man or woman as a true friend, and few indeed have been the chances I had, since once I set myself apart from my fellow Herkus.
“No,” agreed Cirrus, oblivious to the startled state of Ugu’s mind. “I think that –” He broke off abruptly, as they came around the corner to see the one remaining spot of color in all the Castle of Ozma.
The huge, broad, thick strip of leather and gold and silver and gems sparkled like a piece of Iris’ rainbow brought to earth and carved by the greatest sculptors imaginable. Cirrus approached, his steps slowing as he studied the girdle-like Belt, gripped in the hands of a grey statue, and then turned with stunned disbelief to Ugu. “Is that –”
“—The Belt of the Nome King? Yes, indeed. The very source of my original undoing.”
“Why have you not taken it to use?” There was an unspoken implication there, which they both understood and neither verbalized: that such a powerful talisman might well provide the final key to safe victory over the volatile Queen Amanita, when the time came.
Ugu’s lips curved in a thin smile. “Take it for yourself…if you can.”
Cirrus stepped forward and grasped the Belt in both hands; his hands were far larger than the delicate fingers that had been tight on the Belt when the change came on her, and Ugu winced to see the sharp, strong pull; instinctively he expected to see those slender digits of stone break, as even far larger pieces of stonework would have broken under the strength of a Faerie warrior such as Cirrus Dawnglory.
Yet the Belt remained fast; the stone fingers did not so much as bend the width of a hair. After several increasingly violent attempts, Cirrus gave up and looked with complete confusion at his King. “How…?”
Ugu laughed. “Ah, it is really quite ironic. A matter of a few seconds either way, and the Belt would have been mine. But Princess Dorothy was in the very act of seizing the Belt and putting it on; as you can see, there is no way of removing the belt without breaking at least a few of her fingers.
“The clasp, however, was partially engaged. It was on its owner, and the Belt protects its wearer from all harm. Apparently,” he continued, “being turned to stone is not sufficient to disqualify you from ownership.”
Cirrus’ laugh echoed Ugu’s. “Ha! So one of the greatest treasures of all Faerie is removed from any possibility of use…by the sheer working of chance.”
Perhaps…perhaps it is just as well, Ugu thought. That power might have fallen into Amanita’s hands. He shuddered inwardly.
“You have deployed your armies?”
“Yes. The majority of them are in the northwest of the Winkie country; I would expect that if any invasion is to happen, it will be there. I have given Coo-Ee-Oh clear instructions on the contingencies for action. There are pickets set along the entire border, with patrols — mainly Tempests, with some Infernos — moving in irregular patterns across the land, to prevent any observers from predicting them.” Cirrus looked at him. “You, Majesty, have been extremely busy of late — as has Her Majesty, as well.” His expression said that the latter was something of a relief. Despite Cirrus’ virtuosity in his role, it had to be wearing to maintain the deception in the presence of a sorceress so volatile and suspicious. At least in the Rainbow Kingdom there had been no real reason for him to be suspected. “Are you…preparing, as well?”
“It is indeed as you say,” Ugu agreed. “Realize that much wizardry, many rituals and spells, normally require careful preparation, rare ingredients, burning of unique herbs and papers filled with powders volatile and dangerous. Yet,” he continued walking slowly, “if the worst does happen and either the Mortal succeeds against all odds in gaining the power of Oz, or somehow your armies are routed and we stand against the united forces of the Nomes and the Rainbow Lord, time will be what we are most short of.”
Cirrus gave a nod, showing he understood. “And so now…”
“Now Amanita and I are preparing the enchantments ahead of time, compressing them and arranging them in gem and staff and crystal, that they may be called forth by a gesture, a short phrase, even a particular event. Dozens, hundreds of spells, even, all at our fingertips for that ultimate eventuality.” He gave a sardonic smile. “Not wasted in the end, of course, even if all goes according to plan. Such convenience will be its own reward, whatever comes.”
Cirrus looked relieved. “I must confess, Majesty, I had been somewhat concerned about that…limitation of your Majesties’ powers, but I was unsure how to broach that subject safely. A man in my position making such queries…”
“…might be seen as a man trying to divine the weaknesses in those who sit upon the throne…perhaps all the better to remove them from the throne himself. Yes, of course.” Ugu gave Cirrus a quick, reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Amanita may be sharp of temper, but rest assured, General, I will assume you mean the best for our realm. You have sworn to me, and I believe your words. If you have any concerns — any at all — I want you to voice them to me, whenever — such as now — we have privacy.”
The former warrior of the Rainbow Kingdom drew himself up in gratified pride. Ugu looked on him and for a moment he saw the original Cirrus, staring into his eyes with agonized, defeated resistance that clung to nothing but a burning pride in his own existence. Somehow he kept his expression calm, but in that instant he felt a jab of phantom pain in his heart, a pain so rare and unfamiliar that it took a moment to place it; regret, not for his own failures, but for this success. This man before him was part-Tempest, but also part Cirrus Dawnglory, and there was tragedy in that.
To distract himself from these thoughts — which are useless, for there is no going back, nor any apology that would mean anything, even if I would — he returned to earlier conversation. “You have positioned your troops reasonably. Have you any particular strategies?”
Cirrus shrugged. “Many, but none that really will matter unless and until I see the nature, size, composition, and leadership of the opposing forces. I would expect to have at least one engagement which I don’t care if we win or lose, simply to gauge the mettle of our opposition. We will have all the advantages of home ground here, and I will exploit that to the fullest.”
“And the Mortal?”
Cirrus bowed. “I assure you, all the instructions are given…and with Your and Her Majesty’s forceful backing, I believe they are completely understood.”
Ugu smiled. “Excellent.” He looked out one of the windows, where he could see the walls of the greater Grey Castle. We do not know whether your current mission will succeed, Mortal Man…but succeed or fail, your fate is already decided.