In Which a King Is Finally Crowned
Prince Alexei Tsarevich, former exile, the seventy-fifth king of Avalon, and its current Firekeeper, paced nervously, while Tala and the firebird watched. He was clothed in jewel-encrusted silks with intricate embroidery, and a rich satiny cape was fastened around his shoulders. The room was almost as big as the downstairs of Tala’s house back in Invierno, and every corner was so richly furnished in frills and fripperies, she was afraid to touch anything for fear of unintentionally ruining something expensive.
The unexpectedly ostentatious displays of wealth were a far cry from her first impression of Maidenkeep. Not for the first time, she was rethinking her original assumption of Avalon as a small kingdom that might not be able to recover from the frost.
Tala herself was dressed in the breathtaking Mai-i dress spun from abaca that her mother had promised to her months ago, and the pretty takmon shells tinkled softly every time she moved. She’d been worried about looking out of place—the other guests had arrived in gowns and tuxes. But her mother had said the Makilings always wore Mai-i dresses in all the centuries they’ve stood in formal ceremony. That didn’t stop Tala from fretting.
There was a large television mounted on the wall, tuned to an American news channel. Tala pointed out that this would only make Alex’s blood pressure skyrocket—not the best thing before his own coronation—but Alex had insisted. Avalon’s thawing had dominated the news cycle for a couple of weeks, but that was well over a month ago, and some new idiocy from the Royal States’ king was once more keeping the media occupied. Avalon was still in the process of rebuilding; the frost had left most of the buildings intact, and the Nine Maidens’ time spell had ensured most were still in working order. Alex was taking stock of his citizens’ health first and ordering his newly formed army, led by the Count of Tintagel, to seek out more survivors all over the land.
But there was one brief report that day that caught Tala’s attention. A Southwest Skies facility in Arizona had been breached, children allegedly missing. It had not been reported in the major news outlets, save one, and it had buried their lede.
Ryker had disappeared when she’d returned for him, the snow mound he’d been trapped underneath melted to reveal no body present.
Alex paused to examine himself in the mirror, and let out a short bark of laughter. “We look like a pair of overdressed sows on auction at the market, about to break records for the highest bidding price.”
“Speak for yourself. I think I look great. You might worry less if you didn’t move around as much, though.”
“You’re not moving, and you look just as nervous as I am.” He glanced back at the firebird, who was doing the closest bird equivalent to snort-laughing. “If you’re feeling out of place, I can always send for the little gold-rimmed cloak the steward prepared for you. Apparently it’s been in the family for generations, so I know you’ve worn it before.”
The laughter died abruptly, and the firebird stuck its tongue out at him.
Alex fiddled with his cape. “Tala…what if I screw this up?”
“You’re not going to screw this up. I thought this was what you’ve been gunning for your whole life? To see Avalon restored, to finally get your throne back.”
“Yeah, but it was a hell of a lot easier to just imagine having it back. Nobody else was watching. And I’m not done yet. I’ve got the firebird and I’ve got Maidenkeep, but I still have the sword to look for. If that’s what you saw at Tintagel, then it has to be close by—it’s pissing the hell out of me that I can’t find it. I’ve already had the whole castle searched twice.”
Tala was silent. The firebird was silent. She could understand why her father had chosen not to reveal her secret, but she was surprised the firebird was withholding the same thing from its master.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Alex asked.
“Talk about what?”
“You know. Your dad.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve accepted that he was the Scourge.”
“Have you forgiven him yet?”
“Do you want to talk about how you were able to control the Nine Maidens when every historian’s said no king of Avalon has been able to in hundreds of years? What did you sacrifice to learn that spell? The frog curse isn’t the only repercussion of that, is it?”
Alex’s face clouded over. “Are we doing this again?”
“Why is your stuff off-limits but my dad once being a genocidal maniac isn’t? And those weren’t flukes, Alex. Your father purportedly didn’t know how to use the Nine Maidens, but you did. You didn’t want us to bury those people in that village because you knew they were in stasis and you could revive them. You put them to sleep in the first place. You used the Nine Maidens to cast that time spell over the whole kingdom, and you stopped the Snow Queen from reentering Avalon. You admitted as much.”
Alex closed his eyes. “I can’t tell you what I had to give up for it. That was part of the deal I’d made.”
“From the Baba Yaga?”
“You’ll never find her. I don’t know if she escaped the frost. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”
“When you told me that you possessed a censured spell, knowing how to control those Nine Maidens was what you really meant and not the frog curse, wasn’t it? But why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’d just met you, then. A lifetime of hiding had taught me that two people who knew a secret wasn’t actually a secret at all.”
“But then afterward?”
“Afterward, I had let it pass for so long that I didn’t really know how to talk to you about it. And it’s not like I can use the Maidens any time I want to. There were limits imposed to when, and defending Avalon was one of them. You’re still the only one who knows, unless you decide otherwise.” The question in his tone was apparent.
“No. I’m not going to tell anyone else unless you want me to. But they’re going to know about it sooner or later. You can’t keep this a secret forever, Alex. Your ancestors died using it.”
Alex grinned. “And I would have died twelve years ago without it, so this is practically a reprieve. I’m going to keep it hidden for as long as I can, anyway. It’s not just me being overly paranoid. When the Snow Queen took over Avalon and unleashed the frost, she had help from within. There are traitors in my kingdom, Tala. Theirs may not have been the hand that killed my parents, but they provided their murderers with the knife to stab them in the back with. And I’m going to stamp them all out one by one even if it takes me the rest of my life. And the Snow Queen’s still out there somewhere. She’s not going to stop until she has my firebird, but I’ll be ready. I have to be ready.”
“And I’ll help you,” Tala said. “You and the other Banders got off to a rocky start, but I know they’ll all fight for you, and fight with you too. But you have to stop acting like you’re the only person fighting the war, and trust the rest of us a little more.” Because I have to make sure you don’t die from this, you idiot.
Alex’s gaze slid toward her, looked away again. “I’m sorry. I can’t promise anyone else that yet.”
The door opened, and Lola Urduja looked in. She was dressed in a resplendent Filipina terno, an intricate blouse made of stiff abaca that rose up around her collarbone and was set against her shoulders like a pair of expensive bookends. She fluttered her fan. “Are you two ready?”
“I’ve barely been out of this room in the last two days!” Alex burst out with a growl, flopping down hard on the bed. “I need this to be over soon.”
“Coronations don’t come every day, Your Highness. I was close to despairing that I would ever see an Avalon king crowned in my lifetime, but you beat the odds. This is an accomplishment, not a burden.”
“And the courtiers and ambassadors who’ve come all the way to pay their respects? Is that how they’ll see it?” Alex glared at the ceiling. “They didn’t give a rat’s ass when Avalon was under ice, and the only reason they’re here to pay lip service is because they’re worried about all those spelltech patents they’ve been lusting after that I can now take back.”
“If it eases your mind, you’re allowed to gloat after the ceremony. They’re all quite afraid of the firebird, from what Chedeng and Baby could glean, and having it on your shoulder will do much to keep the peace. Even so, the Katipuneros shall remain vigilant.”
“Not only that,” Lumina Makiling said, appearing from behind Lola Urduja and clad in a Mai-i dress similar to Tala’s. “It’s all over the news that you and the Bandersnatches had defeated an ice maiden, the Great Mother forbid, and lifted the frost’s curse on your own. They’re just as fearful of what you can do as they are of your fire-breathing charge.”
The firebird sniffed.
Alex laughed. “Lola. Auntie. Thank you. For the year you gave me a home, for all the—”
“There is no need for gratitude, Your Highness,” Lola Urduja interrupted. “I would have been remiss if I hadn’t honored you with our usual Filipino hospitality.”
“Thank you, Lola.” Alex stood and adjusted his cape one last time. He held out his forearm, and the firebird hopped onto it, purring. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Hey, Alex?” Tala asked, keeping her voice low as they followed the two women out, careful not to let them overhear. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to talk about. But I’m glad you told me, and I’m glad you trusted me, for what it’s worth. And thank you for asking. About Dad. We’re not cool yet, and I don’t know if we’ll ever be. But thank you.”
There were so many things she was still hiding. The Nameless Sword, the mirror. She didn’t know where Ryker had gone. But maybe in time, she’d be in a better place to tell Alex. And maybe in time, he’d be in a better place to tell her more too.
The new King of Avalon looked back at her, then gave her hand a slow, steady squeeze. “Anytime. What are best friends for?”
* * *
“It’s going to be a short ceremony,” Tala’s mother said quietly, as they traveled down the long carpeted hallway. “The Duke of Wonderland will be administering it, and he’s not one for long functions, for obvious reasons.”
“The Cheshire?” Tala asked, surprised. “No one said he would be here.”
“Exactly. There’s still quite a few bounties on his head. The kingdom of Russia in particular is rather keen on beheading him themselves. We’ve forbidden cameras and media inside, and he’ll be leaving soon after.”
“I chose him for this,” Alex said, with some satisfaction. “It’s the first political statement I wanted to make.” Then he sobered. “I’m scared.”
“It’s not an execution, hijo,” Lola Urduja said. “And in a couple of hours, you won’t ever need to wear tights again. For today, anyway.”
“No. I mean, I’m scared. Of everything. What if I turn out to be a terrible king?”
Lumina laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Most things in life none of us signed up for. But you’ve got friends looking out for you every step of the way. Every bad seed will always be outnumbered by the good sprouts. Remember that.”
Alex nodded. Lumina let him pass, then fell into step with Tala. “You’re still angry,” she murmured.
“Can you blame me?”
“No. Want to talk?”
“I don’t know yet.” She could forgive her mother for loving a murderer, but she wasn’t sure about the murderer. “How could you not tell me?”
“Your father wanted to. I didn’t. I didn’t want you to hate him.”
“I don’t hate him. But…”
“But you’re conflicted. I was too.” Her mother closed her eyes. “When the frost came down, he tried to save everyone. He brought you and I to safety, then turned and went back for Alex. The Snow Queen nearly killed him for that. Even then, he refused to leave until we’d saved everyone. He wept when he realized we couldn’t. He was bleeding to death, in a pool of his own blood, and he was crying because he thought he’d failed again.”
Her father had wept again, inside Maidenkeep. “But all those other people…”
“I don’t know if his attempts at redemption will ever outweigh his crimes. But I decided in the end that he should at least be given the chance to.” She smiled sadly at Tala. “I think everyone deserves that much.”
After an intricate musical fanfare that nearly destroyed Tala’s eardrums, two guards tugged the massive doors open. Colorful pinions and banners decorated the walls, marking the festiveness of the occasion. It had taken almost two weeks to remove all the remaining ice and replace the destroyed furnishings, but Lola Urduja had been just as efficient at housekeeping as she was at planning strategy.
The crowd was solemn. Tala ignored the stares and focused on not tripping over her own feet. In contrast, the firebird lifted its wings and drew its neck up proudly, daring anyone to protest its presence, which no one did. And for all his earlier reservations, Alex was all confidence, striding up the carpeted path and onward to his destiny.
Loki and Nya stood at the back of the room, the girl in a simple woolen gown and Loki in a white tunic and breeches. Nya waved happily at them, much to the annoyance of the others around her, but a faint smile touched Alex’s face at the sight.
Tala spotted Ken next, in a silver and blue doublet, grinning in encouragement. West stood beside him, in a yellow waistcoat still a size too big for his build. His hair, for once, was carefully combed, freshly scrubbed face beaming back. Zoe wore a long blue gown that matched the color of her eyes, which sparkled as she dipped into a low curtsy. Cole stood farther along the crowd, clothed heavily in black. General Luna, Tito Jose, and the Titas Baby, Chedeng, and Teejay, were all were dressed in military garb, for once looking like the soldiers they were. They lined the aisle with their swords raised over them as the group passed through, looking proud.
A small pedestal was placed at the very end of their walk, where a golden crown lay gleaming. Behind it was another, taller platform. Tala and the others stopped several feet away, allowing Alex to complete the last few yards on his own. The air around the higher podium warped briefly, a sphere made of darkness briefly materializing above it. When it cleared, a large cat with fur that was a patchwork of colors sat, surveying the room with considerable calm. The gasps arising from the audience were audible.
“Time is such a relative concept,” a voice began as the music ended. It came from everywhere and from nowhere all at once. “A dozen years to most can mean a lifetime for one. A dozen years is a dozen years too much for Avalon to have gone through what it has. But today is a sign of brighter things to come, of better futures. Today, we celebrate not what we’ve lost, but what we are ready to become.”
Lumina Makiling stepped forward, now balancing a long sword carefully with both hands, and Tala’s heart nearly stopped beating.
But it wasn’t the Nameless Sword. This was smaller and had none of the strange carvings of the other. In fact, it had no markings at all.
Her mother presented the sword to the cat, hilt extended. Tala had no idea how it was going to grasp it, until Lumina stepped back and the blade remained suspended in the air, hovering.
“The sword of the Tsarevich House,” the voice announced, and the hilt turned and floated toward Alex. “Wielded since the days of the first Ivan Tsarevich. Now we pass it on as tradition demands.” Alex took the sword, raising it slightly so it gleamed in the light.
Now it was the crown’s turn to rise from the platform on its own, crossing the distance to gently settle on Alex’s head.
“Clear minds, open hearts”—was it Tala’s imagination, or did the cat actually smile?—“Fighting hands. Ladies and gentlemen, the Firekeeper, and the new king of Avalon—Alexei of House Tsarevich!”
His name echoed throughout the room, and the answering roar of voices nearly drowned out the triumphant orchestra.
Things would have proceeded according to custom, had not the firebird, drunk on all the well-wishing and praise, decided to contribute further to the festivities. A celebratory fireball neatly scorched the ceiling, sending people hollering and running for the exit. The firebird laughed, then, the air shimmering as it soared up, singing and sounding very pleased at how things had turned out.
“That’s it,” Ken said. “I definitely want my own firebird.”
* * *
“I don’t think we’ve met before.”
Tala froze. She’d retreated to a small section of the Maidenkeep gardens, wanting time alone to process her thoughts. Still in her Mai-i dress, she was sitting on a small rock overlooking a koi pond, staring at the colorful fishes swimming, and had not heard anyone approach.
It was the multicolored cat. It hopped onto another stone adjacent to hers and settled down on its haunches.
“I thought you left,” Tala said slowly.
“A lot of people would like me to,” came the response, again from somewhere around them instead of issuing directly from the cat’s mouth. “Would you like me to?”
“I don’t know. I’ve heard a lot of things about you.”
“Good things? Bad things?”
“Just confusing things.”
Something chuckled. “I wanted to personally thank you. The others could not have succeeded in getting Alex safely to Maidenkeep without your help.”
“I really don’t want to talk about that.” She didn’t want all that pressure on her. It wasn’t fair to be told that getting Alex or the others killed would have been her fault.
“Then let’s not.” The cat peered carefully into the water. Its reflection, a man with dark hair and green eyes, looked back at it. “I can understand not wanting to talk. I’ve been in this shape longer than I’ve been human, and I still don’t want to talk about the whys and hows of it. All I want to know before I leave is whether you’re committed to helping Alex adjust to his role here in Avalon. The kingdom is his to rule, but there are many loose ends needing to be tied. Traitors abound, pledged to either the Snow Queen or to their own greed. Maidenkeep had been enchanted to keep the worst spells out, you see. Its kings did not need to control the Nine Maidens in order for the Nine Maidens to protect the castle. Avalon could only have fallen to the frost if someone from inside had let them in, and knew the Maidens’ secrets.”
“I’m going to stay and help Alex,” Tala said. “That’s the only thing I’ve ever been sure of since leaving the Royal States.”
The cat nodded. The boy in the pond’s reflection nodded. “Then he’s in good hands.”
“Tally.”
Tala looked back. His father stood there, looking uncomfortable in a military outfit similar to what the Katipuneros had worn to the coronation. When she turned again, the black cat was gone.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Talk about you being a serial murderer?”
Her father winced. “I don’t know how to make it up to you.”
“I don’t know either.”
He’d protected her secret. She wasn’t technically beholden to Avalon’s laws, but he was. Surely there were heavy sanctions and penalties for withholding the Nameless Sword’s location to the liege they vowed to obey, and definitely for withholding the name of the sword’s new master.
But she couldn’t. Not yet. Millions of people…
“I can forgive you,” she found herself saying. “But I can’t forget. Not yet. But I don’t know how to do both right now. I’m sorry.”
A pause. Tala felt the lightest of touches against her hair.
“I’ll be here for you, whether ye do forgive me or not,” her father said, and she felt like weeping at how gentle his normally strong timbre had become. “As will your mother. We plan on staying here, make sure Alex gets settled in. If y’can’t stand to stay in the same house as me, I’ll find someplace else. Your mother agreed to that. I know I can’t change my past, but I can’t ask you to ignore it, and I will always wait until yer ready to talk. And I will always love you, either way. Know that, my lass.”
Tala waited until her father’s footsteps faded away before she stood.
* * *
The freshly staffed Maidenkeep servants had done their best to remove all evidence of the previous frost within its walls, but entry to this particular room had been forbidden to all. Not even Tala’s curse could offset the barriers that had now been placed in the corridor leading up to the Nine Maidens’ control room. The defensive spells in the outer barricade fizzled harmlessly against Tala’s fingers, but one was enough to sap her strength, and there were thousands more lining the hallway that she’d have to get through just to reach the door.
Somewhere within that room, Tala knew, there was a mirror. And within that mirror was a sword.
But she’d rejected it, hadn’t she? Did she have any more claims to the sword after that?
The spells sent small shocks up the length of her arms. In the end, she had no choice but to leave the hallway with guilt still weighing heavy in her heart, away from that strange room where the Nine Maidens protected the castle and the kingdom, and where a sword was nothing more than a reflection in the mirror, once upon a time.
* * *
“Quite a ruckus,” the Cheshire noted much later, as it sat inside its quarters at Maidenkeep’s highest tower. “I’ve seen my share of these ceremonies, Hatter, and this was certainly the most…enthusiastic.”
“But she rejected the sword!” The other, a harried-looking man with spectacles and a tendency toward baldness, riffled through the pages of several books, straining to look for something he could not find. “The prophecies have never been wrong before!”
“There is time enough to change minds,” the Cheshire said. “It has been rejected before, or don’t you remember? The sword has been waiting decades. It can stand to wait a little longer.”
The Cheshire stared thoughtfully at the Nameless Sword. It sat at the corner of the room, buried to the hilt inside stone. It gleamed.
“Prophecy may be interpreted in many different ways. And if the young Makiling does not wish to suit prophecy, then perhaps prophecy shall twist itself around to suit her instead. But all things considered, it went pretty well, don’t you think?”