Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (54 page)

Her feelings for Privet, on the other hand, were more raw and primal. She felt like jumping on top of him and kissing him forever. She felt like embracing him in front the whole world. The thrill of his presence felt like flying on the back of a dragon.

He had always been physically strong, but he had changed from the way he was before. He was now emotionally strong as well, and that strength was irresistibly attractive. She knew he would stand between her and the storm. She knew he would give his life to save hers. Her trainers had always taught her that it was shameful to rely on a man for protection, and there was a time when she would have agreed with them. But not anymore. When Privet had stepped forward to fight for her in the vault, she hadn’t felt shame at all. She felt cherished, she felt safe, she felt loved.

I wonder, should I propose to him again, or should I wait for him to come to me and change his answer?

Athel bit on her knuckle and let out a girlish little squeak.

“Hey, what are you daydreaming about?” Privet asked, looking down at her.

“N-nothing,” she stammered and she stood up. She grinned stupidly, and couldn’t make herself stop.

“You feeling all right? You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

Athel shook herself out of her thoughts and looked forward. Before them was a sprawling metropolis, constructed from manoi. Hundreds of skyscrapers of light and glass rose up into the sky, connected by bridges and walkways. Trains and shuttles sped about on tracks of hard-light that wove between and through the skyscrapers, taking groups of Sutorians from their offices in one building to their residences in another. No music or laughter filled the air, just the clicking of tracks, the shuffling of feet, and the ticking of clockwork.

Awed, Athel and Privet could not help but stare. They had never seen anything like it.

The businessman ahead of them rolled his eyes. “Humph, tourists.”

It was as if the entire city were made out of glass. One could look directly into a skyscraper and see into each perfectly square office, each containing a single perfectly square desk and perfectly square filing cabinet.

“Eesh, don’t they believe in privacy around here?” Ryin commented from his platform.

“Only those with something to hide concern themselves with privacy,” the businessman called back from his platform far ahead.

Hanner scratched his thick jaw. “Wow, he has good hearing for a little guy.”

“Greater size does not impart greater hearing,” the businessman called back, leaning on his umbrella cane. “Nor greater intelligence, it would seem.”

Their platforms came to a rest at a train station junction which hovered at the edge of the city. Signs spun rapidly in the local language, as groups of smartly dressed Sutorians move in square blocks of nine, exiting the trains from one side as another group of nine entered from another. No director or officer guided their movements. They moved in unison without compulsion, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Athel hardened her resolve.
I am going to enjoy today, even if I have to force myself.

“Oh, look at that,” Athel gushed, squeezing Privet’s muscular arm. “They have trains that move up and down the outside of the buildings. We have to try that.”

“Try to remember, my Lady, we are on a very tight schedule,” Alder reproved her gently.

“No, we're not,” Setsuna corrected, taking Privet’s other arm. “Margaret said she needs twelve hours to sleep before we head out again. It won’t take that long to find this mushroom Athel wants. That gives us plenty of time for Privet to take me out to dinner.”

Athel and Setsuna shot daggers at each other with their eyes. Privet sighed to himself.

“Our first goal should be to locate the Temple of Kohta, that is where they cultivate the fungus,” Alder suggested.

Hanner noticed the businessman they had ridden behind waiting in formation to enter the next train. “Hang on, I got this.”

Hanner stomped up and plucked the small man off his feet with a giant ogre-like hand.

“I say, let go of me, you savage! Barbarian ogre, put me down this instant!” the man insisted as the other Sutorians scattered in terror.

Hanner walked back over with the struggling man while Mina ran up. “Sorry about that,” she apologized. Hanner is Iberian, you know how they are.”

“I’m beginning to,” the man complained.

“Wait, how are we?” Hanner asked, scratching his bald head.

“Could you please direct us to the temple of Kohta,” Alder asked politely.

The man’s expression fell. “I’m an accountant, not a tour-guide,” he grumbled.

“I mean it, what do you mean all Iberians are like what?” Hanner insisted, shaking the man.

“Eighlo,” the man said, his hair and suit disheveled.

“Wha?”

“My name is Eighlo,” he repeated, straightening his oiled hair. “And if you look at that sign right over there, you can see that you take the B-line down to the fifth station. Then from there the D-trolley to the temple.”

Mina looked at the large sign covered with bizarre scrawlings. “Um, if you say so.”

Eighlo was set down. He straightened his suit before handing Mina a little slip of paper.

“What is this?” Mina asked, looking it over.

“If you need any help, just go to this office,” Eighlo explained as he walked away.

“Oh, is this the office where you work?” Athel asked.

“No, they are my competitors,” Eighlo called back. “Be sure to tell them I sent you.”

The Sutorians riding the B-line were visibly upset to see so many foreigners board their train. A couple of tiny children pointed and asked questions to their mothers who hushed them in their tongue. Most of the Sutorian language was outside the normal range of hearing, but Mina seemed to be able to hear it just fine, and it appeared to be giving her a headache.

Athel yanked Privet to the back of the car and made him sit with her in a pair of seats.

“Sorry, both of these seats are taken,” Athel baited Setsuna when she approached. “I think I see some seats down there at the other end.”

When Hanner got in the train, the entire thing shifted from his weight as if it might tip over. Hanner was forced to hunch over even more than normal in order to fit under the low ceiling. “I guess they didn’t have Iberians in mind when they designed it.”

Captain Evere stepped in and looked around at the hateful glances coming at them from all directions. “I think that’s just their way of making outsiders know they ain’t welcome here, lad.”

“I probably should have asked earlier, but is anyone here from an island feuding with Sutor?” Privet asked discreetly.

“I sure hope not,” Ryin mentioned, grabbing a handrail.

“Everybody’s feuding nowadays, lad,” Captain Evere lamented.

With everyone aboard, the transparent doors were closed by attendants and the train silently glided along its rails of light through the city. They passed beautiful towers and arches, observation domes and fancy hotels. And yet behind it all were gaunt faces, hardened souls. Strangers sitting next to one another, all fearful of their neighbors. The people were easily startled, quick to judge, slow to forgive, reluctant to connect. A crowd as tightly packed together as packaged fish, but each somehow lonely in the crowd.

Setsuna glared at Athel and Privet from where she sat. Athel pointed out the window and rested her hand on his broad shoulder, her face hovering just inches from his neck. For just a moment, Athel glanced over at Setsuna, making sure she knew she was doing it on purpose.

Setsuna ground her teeth.

Athel took out a pastry and offered Privet a bite. When he politely declined, she jammed it in his mouth, spilling cream down his chin. Athel laughed louder than necessary as he cleaned himself up.

Setsuna, unable to take any more, got up and walked to the far end of the train, where Alder was sitting with Ryin and Hanner, leaning how to play one of their card games. Alder seemed slower than before, even sluggish, as if the cards were heavy in his grip.

“It’s not like I care or anything, but are you really okay with your wife acting like this?” Setsuna asked, pointing behind herself with her thumb.

“How is she acting?” Alder asked, picking up his cards without looking up.

“She’s fawning all over him like a giddy little podling, and where did she get that pastry anyway?”

“I made it for her, it is one of Privet’s favorites,” Alder answered frankly.

Setsuna’s green eyes grew wide with amazement. “How can you be so calm about this?”

Alder leaned over and glanced up at Athel and Privet flirting at the other end of the train. “As the future head of a Braihmin class family, Lady Forsythia will need several husbands to manage such a large household.”

“Her mother has five of ‘em,” Ryin commented without looking up from his cards.

Alder laid a card down onto the little pile on the floor. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind the assistance of a second husband. I am having difficulty keeping up with my duties as of late.”

Setsuna threw up her arms. “But, she’s practically cheating on you, right in front of you!”

Alder looked at her oddly. “Lady Forsythia does not require my permission to court other men. Technically speaking, it is impossible for her to ‘cheat’ on me.”

Setsuna looked around at all of them as if they were crazy.

“I know how you feel,” Mina sympathized. “I’m not used to it either.”

Setsuna stomped her foot. “Ugh, you Wysterians are just impossible to deal with!”

“Have you considered the fact that out of everyone in this room, the only one upset is you?” Alder pointed out as he drew a new card.

“What do you mean?”

“Perhaps it is you that needs to change and not us.”

Setsuna clucked her tongue then took a step back and disappeared. She reappeared on top of the train where she sat pouting, much to the dismay and shock of the Sutorian passengers.

“You are different now, aren’t you, Alder?” Mina purred, looking him over.

“In a good way, I hope,” Alder answered.

“Oh yes, very good. I like it when a man sticks up for his beliefs,” Mina praised, jabbing Captain Evere with her elbow.

“I thank you for the compliment, but those are not my beliefs, they are simply the reality of my existence,” Alder clarified, shuffling his cards.

“So, what are your beliefs?” Mina asked, leaning in curiously.

“My beliefs are of no consequence,” Alder stated, laying down another card.

“Indulge me then, sweetie.”

Alder sighed and folded his cards in his hand. “I’d really rather not.”

“Please,” she bade, batting her large, lavender eyes.

Alder straightened himself. “May I assume your discretion if I do?”

“Not a chance,” Ryin snickered.

“Then I would prefer not to,” Alder restated. “I do not want to cause my wife any distress should it reach her ear.”

Mina slapped Ryin on the back of the head.

“Okay, fine,” Ryin reluctantly agreed.

Discretion assured, Alder breathed slowly and with some difficulty. “I believe that the heart can love without limits. It is like having children, you do not love one less just because you have another. You are able to love each of them with all your heart. You can give each of them one hundred percent of your love without having to divide it between them. Likewise, a Matron can take on a second husband without loving the first any less. That is what the heart is like.”

Alder paused. “However, it does make me feel insufficient, as if I am not enough to make her happy. It makes me feel as though I am doing something wrong. It is almost as if I should be apologizing for not being what she wants. It makes me feel like she needs more than I am able to give her in order to feel satisfied.”

Mina placed her hand on Alder’s shoulder. “Then why not say something to her?”

“Because...”

“Because what?”

“Because I want her to be happy, even if it is not with me.”

The passengers on the D-trolley were even less happy than the train passengers had been. The trolley ran on traditional rails down into the caves beneath the city, and threatened to topple over anytime Hanner didn’t stand in the exact center of the aisle between the two rows of seats.

“Their money is so tiny here,” Ryin criticized as he looked at his change as he stepped off the trolley. Privet jumped down and looked around, only to have Athel latch onto one arm and Setsuna latch onto the other. While the two young women glared at each other, Alder passed out sandwiches from a basket he had brought.

The atmosphere was quite different down in the caves. The air was moist. Water occasionally pattered on them from the ceiling far above, cold and clean water filtered naturally through layers of limestone. The only light was a pale blue coming off of mushrooms that grew on the walls. They were round and puffy with a broken skin like a cooked biscuits. The light they gave off was soothing, and when Athel placed her free hand on one to talk to them, they were friendly and congenial towards her.

And yet, beyond it all, somewhere just beyond the edge of hearing, there was a kind of distant rumble. A stomping of thousands of feet and a smothered roar of thousands of voices. So faint it felt like a trick of the senses, forcing you to crane your head this way and that to verify whether or not you had really heard anything.

Athel stepped up and placed her hand on one of the mushrooms and closed her eyes for a moment. “They say the temple is this way,” she announced proudly.

“Oh, big deal,” Setsuna criticized, pointing over to a marquee. “There’s a sign right there, anyone who can read could've figured that out.”

“Does the sign tell you the secret password to enter, oh well-traveled one?” Athel taunted.

“Well...no, but...”

“I thought so,” Athel said, flicking her hair behind her so that the tips whipped Setsuna in the nose.

Setsuna folded her arms and grumbled beneath her breath. “I don’t need a password I can gate straight in. Try doing that with one of your mustard seeds.”

The group set out into the labyrinthine tunnels. Before long, they were following trails clearly not often used by the locals. The rocks became slipperier; sharper. Long sections with few mushrooms forced them to strike a lantern to find their way. One crossroad was flooded, and would have forced them all to ford across had not Setsuna made a gate for them. Of course, she waited until Athel was down to her hips in the water before suggesting it.