Beyond the Blue Moon (Forest Kingdom Novels) (57 page)

“I know how you feel,” said Cally. “I always wanted to be a warrior, ever since I first heard songs of valor as a child, sitting by the family fire. I wanted to be someone, to make a difference in the world. To be important because I earned it, not because of who I happened to be married to. To be someone in my own right, and not what others thought I should be, just because I was a woman. We’ve both had to fight all our lives just to be seen as ourselves.”

“And that’s why we’ve both been so alone,” said Sir Vivian. “Because we insisted on living the life we chose, and not what others tried to choose for us. Because we wouldn’t compromise, either in what we thought we should be, or in how we wanted others to see us.”

“I knew you’d understand,” said Cally. “We don’t have to be alone, you know.”

“No,” said Sir Vivian. “Not anymore.”

They were both smiling now, their faces so close, they could feel each other’s breath. And then they both looked around, startled, as someone knocked loudly on the other side of the closed double doors. They both stepped back and drew their swords, professional soldiers again. Sir Vivian made sure he had room to work in if need be, and then nodded for Cally to unlock and open the doors. She did so, and Sir Robert Hawke almost fell through the gap.

He caught his balance with an effort, drew himself up to his full height, and nodded cheerfully to Sir Vivian. His face was flushed and his eyes were very wide. Sir Vivian knew immediately what was wrong with him, and Sir Robert knew that Sir Vivian knew, and he really didn’t care. He was flying. He was dressed in his best, but the loud colors he’d chosen clashed hideously, and his jerkin was buttoned wrong. There were beads of sweat on his forehead, and his hands moved back and forth uneasily until he noticed and stuck them firmly behind his belt.

He’d taken a handful of wake-up pills to counteract the downers he’d taken, and right now the various drugs were fighting it out to see which could screw him up the most thoroughly. He was holding himself together through sheer willpower, ignoring what the pills were doing to his body so he could concentrate on keeping his thoughts clear and focused. He met Sir Vivian’s disapproving glare and giggled briefly despite himself. He didn’t trust himself to bow successfully, so he just nodded to Sir Vivian and set off across the wide open Court. He held his head high and kept his gaze fixed on the Queen on her Throne. If he could just get to her and find out what this meeting was all about, he’d have something specific to concentrate on, to center his whirling mind. The Court seemed impossibly vast as he stumbled on, like those rooms in uneasy dreams where the far wall seems to recede endlessly away. It was getting hard to tell left from right or forward from backward, and his eyes were so intent and focused now that they ached.

He stopped at what he hoped was a respectful distance from the Throne, and managed a fairly normal bow, though the effort brought fresh beads of sweat popping out on his brow. He smiled at the Queen, hoping it looked more normal than it felt. He was scared. He’d never felt so out of control before. He’d taken far too many pills, and his body was too weakened by long abuse to be able to cope. It was like trying to ride a horse that had suddenly gone mad. And all the time his chemically stimulated thoughts were dashing frantically back and forth inside his head, bouncing off the walls of his skull, producing and discarding desperate plans over and over again, while his mouth struggled with a simple greeting to the Queen. He felt horribly helpless, trapped inside a body that no longer obeyed him, while his thoughts felt like somebody else’s. His mind was slowly slipping its moorings, and drifting away on a dark, dark sea.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Sir Robert,” said the Queen. Her voice sounded far away, as though it were underwater. “I have also sent for your associates, the three putative Landsgraves, though I’m not sure if they’ll be able to join us. Apparently no one’s seen hide nor hair of them in some time.”

“Don’t know where they are myself just now,” said Sir Robert, swaying slightly on his feet. “Still, they’re no great loss. Dangerous, treacherous scum. Always plotting something. You wouldn’t believe what they wanted me to do. Completely untrustworthy. Unlike me, of course. Work my balls off for the Land. For the people. Even deal with those I can’t stand, like those Landsgraves. If you only knew what I saved you from by dealing with those scumbags. Taking their money, listening to their stupid, treacherous plans …”

He heard his voice running on, and couldn’t stop it. His mind was lagging dangerously behind his mouth. By the time he realized he was admitting not only to links with traitors but knowledge of their plans, it was already too late. He forced his mouth shut, his hands clenching into fists as he fought for self-control, his fingernails digging deep enough into his palms to draw blood. The pain helped to steady him a little, until the shock hit him. He’d just given the Queen enough cause to have him dragged away and examined under truthspell. And once they started digging for secrets, they’d never stop. Why had he come here? He should never have come here. Not in this condition. He’d betrayed himself, and all the people who believed in him, through his own damned weakness. The Queen leaned forward on her Throne and looked at him closely. Sir Robert wondered if he’d have the strength of will to take his own life rather than betray his cause.

“Go home, Sir Robert,” Felicity said finally. “Go home. You’re not well.”

Sir Robert flushed with shame, and couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than nod in agreement.

There was a new knocking at the double doors, and Cally opened them to admit the witch Tiffany and the dog Chappie. Tiffany brushed straight past Cally and Sir Vivian, striding across the Court with Chappie at her side. She took up a determined stance right before the Queen, completely ignoring Sir Robert, and launched right into the speech she’d been preparing all the way to Court.

“I got here as fast as I could, Your Majesty. You mustn’t stay here. It’s not safe for you. Powerful magics are stirring somewhere in the Castle. I can feel them, though as yet something prevents me from Seeing their actual location or nature. You must guard yourself. I sense danger, terrible danger.”

“She’s right,” growled Chappie. “Something bad’s coming. I can almost smell it.”

“Calm yourself, my friends,” said the Queen. “I’m as safe here as anywhere. And I have summoned the Magus to attend this Court, too.”

Tiffany sniffed loudly. “I don’t trust him.”

Felicity smiled. “No one does, dear, but he is terribly useful. Especially at moments like this.”

Another knocking was heard, and the doors opened to admit Allen Chance, the Questor. Tiffany cried out his name and ran back across the Court to take him in her arms, wrapping him in a happy hug that squeezed all the breath right out of him. Chappie romped around them, tail wagging furiously, jumping up at them both until Chance freed a hand to pat him on the head and tug at his ear.

“I was so worried about you!” said Tiffany. “I could feel you drawing closer and closer to horrible danger, but you were too far away for me to be able to warn you!”

“It’s all right, Tiff,” said Chance, carefully disengaging himself from her while very conscious of the Queen’s amused gaze. “We’ll talk later. Right now I have important information for the Queen.”

He approached the Throne, Tiffany and Chappie sticking close beside him, bowed formally to Felicity, and ignored Sir Robert after a quick glance. “Your Majesty, I have to report that Jericho Lament, the Walking Man, together with Captains Hawk and Fisher and the Seneschal, have broached the Magus’ wards and entered the Inverted Cathedral.”

“I knew something bad was happening!” said Tiffany. “Oh, Allen, how could you have let them do something so stupid?”

Chance looked at her. “One doesn’t say no to the Walking Man, Tiff. Trust me, one just doesn’t. Besides, someone had to go inside and take a look eventually, and personally I’d back Lament and Hawk and Fisher against anything up to and including a demon army. In fact, I think I’d feel sorry for the demons. No, Tiff, whatever they find, I’m sure they’re eminently qualified to deal with it.”

“Is this the magical upheaval you were sensing?” the Queen asked Tiffany. “Is this the threat you were worried about?”

The young witch scowled, shaking her head slowly. “No, I don’t think so. If feels closer than that.”

The Queen looked sharply at Chance. “You should have consulted with me before allowing Captains Hawk and Fisher to enter the Inverted Cathedral. I needed them here. I’m going to need all the support I can muster for this meeting, considering whom I’ve invited.”

“I am Your Majesty’s protector now and always,” said Chance. “And I see Sir Vivian’s here, too. I assure you, you will be quite safe in our hands.”

“Hey, don’t forget me!” said Cally.

“I wouldn’t know how,” Chance said generously.

The Queen could see where that was going, and butted in quickly. “I have heard that Captains Hawk and Fisher were actually attacked earlier even though they were under my express protection. Do you know anything of this, Sir Questor? In particular, who might be behind such an outrageous attack? Hawk and Fisher represent my authority while they are investigating my husband’s death, and an attack on them is an attack on me. I also require to know why you didn’t inform me of this outrage as soon as it happened. Well?”

There was a pause as everyone looked at everyone else. No one wanted to be the first to say what they were all thinking. In the end Sir Robert spoke up, on the grounds that he couldn’t be in more trouble if he tried.

“We all knew, Your Majesty, but nobody wanted to be the one to point the finger. Given that there is no real evidence—”

“Who did it?” demanded the Queen, leaning forward angrily. “Who would dare strike at me in this way?”

“I’m sorry,” said Sir Robert, “but the hand behind the attack had to be your father’s. No one else could, or would, have dared such an affront to your authority.”

Felicity sank slowly back into her Throne. “Damn. I didn’t want to think he’d be that blatant. I have sent for him. In fact, he was the first name on my list. I’m surprised he’s not already here. He does so hate to miss out on things.”

“Perhaps he feels he is no longer bound to obey Your Majesty’s instructions,” said Chance carefully.

“Right,” said Sir Robert, hanging on to clarity by his fingertips. “If he was going to be here, he’d be here by now.”

“Who else is there still to come?” asked Tiffany.

“Just the Magus.” Felicity scowled, and drummed her fingers on the arm of her Throne. “Where the hell is the man when I need him?”

“Right here,” said the Magus reproachfully. “There’s no need to shout, I’m not deaf.”

Everyone jumped a little, startled by the Magus’ sudden appearance before the Throne. He was standing right beside Sir Robert, who was too out of it to be shocked and just stared at the Magus owlishly. Chappie growled loudly, and Chance had to grab him quickly by the ear to hold him back. Tiffany raised one of her hands in a warding gesture that the Magus didn’t even bother to acknowledge. Cally and Sir Vivian left the double doors and hurried forward, swords in hand. The Magus smiled amiably about him. He looked much as he always did, except that perhaps his face and eyes were just a little less vague than usual.

“What is it this time, Your Majesty?” he asked mildly. “I’m really very busy just at the moment.”

“Busy at what?” asked the Shaman, appearing suddenly beside the Magus, the Creature crouching at his side. Everyone except the Magus jumped again. Cally and Sir Vivian moved quickly to stand on either side of the Throne, glaring at the new arrivals with their swords at the ready. It was getting rather crowded around the Throne now, but no one had any intention of backing down to anyone else. The Magus and the Shaman regarded each other coldly while the Queen glared at both of them.

“I didn’t summon you to my Court, Sir Shaman.”

“I go where I choose,” said the Shaman in his rough, cracked voice. “You know that. I’m here because it’s necessary. Nothing less would bring me to this place.”

By now Chance, Tiffany, and Chappie had taken up positions before the Throne, too. Chappie and the Creature snarled at each other.

“That abomination is dangerous,” Sir Vivian told the Shaman. “I demand that you remove it from this Court. Or we’ll do it the hard way.”

“You don’t object to the Magus’ cloak,” said the Shaman.

“Well, that’s not alive,” said Cally.

“Shows how much you know,” said the Shaman. “That cloak is just as alive and twice as dangerous as my poor Creature. It doesn’t matter anyway. Wherever I go, the Creature goes, too. I’d feel far too vulnerable in this Castle without my protector. Everyone needs someone they can depend on. He’s quite safe as long as I am.”

“Don’t anyone mind what I think,” said Felicity. “I’m only the Queen.”

“Exactly,” said the Shaman. He turned his clay-marked face to glare fiercely at the Magus, who didn’t so much as bat an eye. The Shaman’s voice was cold and measured and very dangerous now. “You’re the reason I’m here, Magus. You and that bloody Rift you opened. You have to shut it down. Right now. It’s a danger to the whole Forest Kingdom. All the time it’s operating, it’s leaking Wild Magic into the world.”

“Yes,” said the Magus. “It is.”

“You admit it?” asked the Shaman. “Your monstrous creation is undermining the very structure of our reality!”

“Quite correct,” said the Magus, entirely unmoved by the Shaman’s fury, and the shocked and startled faces around him. “Such leakage from the Rift is a necessary byproduct. The only alternative would be to shut down the Rift. Permanently. But is everyone here ready to shut down something so massively useful? Is the Forest Kingdom ready to go back to being just a backwater cousin again? To give up all its new comforts and scientific advances? Are the people willing to be cut off from the current flow of political beliefs and philosophies?” He looked unhurriedly about him, taking in their torn, undecided faces. “You’ve all come such a long way since I opened the Rift and made trade between north and south practical. Surely you don’t really wish to become barbarians again, based on the fears of a scaremongering hedge wizard with a grudge?”