The Unmaking (34 page)

The King interrupted by drawing his sword.

“You are speaking lies!” he shrieked, pointing his sword at Alvar. “This is treason! High treason! Guards, take him away!”

The Guards hesitated a moment. The King of the Faeries swung his sword at Alvar, who neither flinched nor stepped aside. Immediately one of the Guards leaped forward, fending off the blow with his own sword. A tremor went through the crowd. The Guard in question seemed appalled at what he had done, but after a brief, stunned moment, the other Guards applauded him. The King dropped his sword and began to tremble.

“This is Nia’s work,” muttered Swarn.

“Quite right,” whispered a voice in her ear. Swarn spun around, reaching for the dagger that was not at her belt, but nobody was there. A muttering swept through the crowds as the crimson doors swung open again. The Sorceress Nia entered the courtyard on the back of a white tiger. She wore a glittering dress of jewels, diamonds, emeralds and rubies all woven together, sparkling in her hair and around her neck. Bands of gold were fixed around her arms. Though the outfit must have been tremendously heavy, she held herself as if it was weightless. Nobody spoke or moved as the tiger loped easily among the Faeries and climbed the steps of the pyramid between the rows of the Faery Guard to the High Step, where Nia dismounted and faced the King. As she stepped up, Gautelen stepped down and away, her eyes meeting Nia’s briefly.

The King of the Faeries watched her progress across the courtyard with an expression of pure disbelief. When she stood before him, he reached his hands out to her and said simply, “My dear.”

“I told you I would come,” said Nia, not taking his hands. “There will be no pleasantries this time, Malferio. This is the hour for revenge, and you will pay for what you did to me.”

He shook his head slightly and reached for her again. “Nia, it is not too late for us.”

“It was too late,” said Nia, “the first time you told me
No
.” She regarded him coldly for a moment and then turned and faced the Faeries. Her voice rang clear and sweet across the courtyard. “I have made an offer to the High Lords and they have accepted. I swore by the Oath of the Ancients that I would never return to the Realm of the Faeries if this king, Malferio, be deposed and exiled.”

Malferio’s face twisted. “You will not give in to this!” he screamed at the throngs of Faeries. “I am your King! It is your duty to defend me!”

“This King has brought danger to his subjects and shame on the Faeries, forcing us into unwelcome alliances,” said Alvar. “We must
end his reign tonight. Though the penalty be death of my Immortal Self, I hereby withdraw my allegiance to the King Malferio and nominate Emyr, the First Advisor, to succeed him!”

The other High Lords applauded from their daises while the Faeries watched, stunned and uncertain.

“Guards!” the King shouted, desperate. Nia plucked the crown from his head.

“Don’t make a scene, my love,” she said to him. “It isn’t dignified.”

Emyr stepped forward and Nia handed him the crown.

Nell had been watching all this with mounting horror, unable to understand what was being said but grasping the situation well enough. Now she found her voice and plucked at Swarn’s sleeve.

“Is that...?”

“That is her,” said Swarn, her voice devoid of emotion.

Nell felt sick to her stomach. “Lah, then
do
something!” she hissed.

“What can I do?” Swarn asked dryly. “If the Faeries wish to depose their King it is not my business. They have thrown their lot in with Nia and it is best that we leave quickly and quietly. Where is your friend, Jalo?”

Nell looked around, but he was not at her side anymore. She spied him standing with a hand on his sword hilt, by his mother’s side, near the front of the dais. Tariro was talking rapidly in his ear. His face was very white.

“I’ll talk to him,” she said.

“Don’t draw attention to yourself,” hissed Charlie.

For a moment the scene on the High Step was pandemonium. The Guards had made clear their allegiance to Alvar but found themselves unable to take hold of their King until Malferio broke every Faery law by beginning to Curse Alvar. Immediately the Faery Guard closed around him. Alvar himself bound the deposed King’s wrists in silver chains and took his sword. Bound in silver, he could neither speak a complete Curse nor work Illusion.

“You will suffer for this, Alvar. You and all you love will suffer for eternity. I promise you,” hissed Malferio.

Alvar met his eyes calmly and did not reply. Emyr and his trembling wife seated themselves in the thrones on the High Step.

“Now is the moment when allegiance should be sworn!” cried Alvar to the Faery throng. “Let us swear allegiance to a king who will not betray us, a king with the interests of the Faeries always in his heart! His Majesty, King of the Faeries, Emyr!”

At first only the High Lords and their startled, frightened wives spoke the Oath of Allegiance, but, after a fierce look from Alvar, the Faery Guard joined in all together, and within seconds the entire host of Faeries in the courtyard were swearing allegiance to the new King.

Emyr rose.

“I thank you from the bottom of my heart,” he said with all the gravitas befitting a king. “My life’s honour is to lead you. I name High Lord Alvar as my First Advisor, and as second Advisor I name High Lord Nikias.”

Thunderous applause broke out among the Faery Guard as Alvar bowed deeply to the new King. Nikias seemed quite stunned, but a number of others noticed the satisfied look on Tariro’s face, registered that Nia’s dress was made of Faery jewels, and drew their own conclusions.

“Are there any requests for the new King?” called Alvar.

Nia, who had stood aside throughout this with her eyes fixed on Malferio like a hawk’s on a mouse, stepped before him now and bowed low.

“Your Majesty, I humbly beg that the criminal Malferio be exiled and given to me.”

“It is done,” nodded Emyr. Malferio looked at his bound wrists and at the High Lords carrying on with the ceremony as if he thought he might wake up at any moment. Nia’s tiger growled, circling him hungrily.

Gautelen stepped back onto the High Step next and bowed before Emyr.

“I ask permission to return to my home of Lil,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

“It is done. I dissolve the bond of marriage between you and the former king. Tomorrow you will go home with an escort of the Faery Guard.”

Gautelen bowed again, amber tears of joy falling from her eyes.

Nell was struggling to reach Jalo’s side through the crowd on the dais but Tariro saw her first and stepped in the way, gripping her arm firmly.

“These are Faery matters,” she hissed. “Do not try to sway Jalo, little girl. It will end badly for all of you.”

“I need to talk to him,” begged Nell. Tariro was dragging her towards the edge of the dais and her grip on Nell’s arm burned. As she pulled her right to the edge of the dais, Nell realized with horror that Tariro meant to throw her over.

“Charlie!” she cried, but it came out strangled. The strength of the Faery overpowered her entirely and she could do nothing to free herself.

“You need to
disappear,
”
said Tariro.

A brown hand on Tariro’s bejeweled arm stopped her. Tariro let go instantly and Nell fell at the Faery’s feet, gulping for air.

“Your part is done,” said Swarn. “We will leave peacefully.”

“Sooner,” said Tariro, “is better. The escort is ready.”

“It is late and we need rest,” said Swarn. “We will go at dawn, as arranged.”

Tariro looked about to protest but Swarn held her gaze a moment and Tariro thought better of it. She nodded assent. “Dawn,” she said.

Still sprawled on the ground between Swarn’s legs, Nell saw Nia crossing the swaying bridge to the dais and approaching them. The Faeries stepped out of her way hurriedly, creating a path directly to Swarn.

“Swarn,” Nell gasped to warn her, but Nia was upon the witch before she had a chance to prepare herself. They stood eye-to-eye for a moment and a hush fell over the Faeries. Even the ceremony on the High Step halted as they all watched to see what the Sorceress Nia would do to Swarn, the Warrior Witch.

“It’s tempting to satisfy our audience and have a tremendously dramatic battle right here and now, isn’t it?” said Nia lightly. “But I think they’ve had enough excitement for one night, and I don’t like to take my eyes off of that snake for too long.” She glanced back at Malferio, who was watching, his hands chained, as if it were a preview of his own end. Her tiger guarded him closely.

“I had to trap him,” Nia continued, “like a little rat. I had to come into his hole after him. But I think I can count on your honour, Swarn. An admirable quality, if that’s the sort of thing one admires. If I ask you to meet me at the Hall of the Ancients the day after tomorrow, will you come?”

“I will come,” said Swarn. And then, as if she could not help herself, she said through gritted teeth, “Your slaughter of the dragons was unnecessary and barbaric.”

Nia raised her eyebrows and laughed at that. “I just wanted to see what it was about killing them
you
always seemed to enjoy so much,” she replied. “I’ve concluded it’s a vastly overrated pleasure. I was surprised and disappointed, though, at the way you scurried off. I trust I won’t be disappointed again?”

“You will not,” said Swarn.

Nia nodded and cast a brief glance at Nell and Charlie and Ander, who had grouped around Swarn. “The company you keep,” she said, with a roll of her eyes. With her gown of jewels clinking and twinkling she strode back to the High Step. The white tiger pounced, its great mouth closing over Malferio’s head. As he screamed threats and showered incomplete Curses upon all his former subjects, the tiger dragged him down the steps after the Sorceress, across the petal-strewn courtyard, and out the crimson doors, which opened before them and closed with a thunderous bang. Thus ended the reign of Malferio, King of the Faeries for a thousand years.

Chapter

~20~

“
Y
ou’ll come back soon, won’t you?”
asked Rom, hugging his daughter goodbye. The question was taut with fear.

“Soon,” she said.

“It’s the Day of Forgiveness, you know,” he added, and almost managed a smile. Eliza had lost track of the days and was faintly surprised to find Winter Festival already upon them. The Sorma did not celebrate it the way Northerners did.

“I’d forgotten,” she said.

“Forgive me.” His voice broke on the word
forgive
.

“For
what?”
asked Eliza, incredulous.

“For not being able to protect you or do this for you,” he said.

Eliza shook her head, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. “This is just the way it is,” she said. She had long since forgiven him for letting her childhood go. What other choice had either of them had?

“How is Ma?” she asked. “Is she still...?”

Rom nodded. “She’s quieter now. Not sleeping yet.”

“It’s my fault. What we did to Nia’s beast. I broke it the way she was broken.”

“She’s strong, Eliza. Like you. She’ll be all right.”

Eliza embraced her grandmother and grandfather and all her aunts and uncles and cousins, and Uri Mon Lil shook hands with them all. Then they mounted their dragons and flew north, leaving the Great Sand Sea and the remains of the Kwellrahg’s body behind them.

It was early afternoon when they reached the Citadel. The grounds looked black from above, filled with waiting ravens. As they landed, Eliza felt the Citadel recognize and welcome her. She realized, to her surprise, that it almost felt like home. She was terribly tired and she wanted to run to her bedroom, lie down and sleep. But that was impossible. The body of Anargul’s dragon lay collapsed in the grounds, surrounded by ravens, and it grieved Eliza to see such a noble creature lying dead. The bodies of the Cra were also scattered here and there, their hearts cut out. Eliza did not look at them.

“What has happened here?” whispered Uri Mon Lil, looking around. “Oh, this is a dreadful place.” He looked at Eliza fearfully.

“Wait here with the dragons,” said Eliza. “I willnay be long.”

Eliza made her way through the empty halls of the Treasury. Finding the place she sought, she laid her hand against the cold marble of the wall. Before she had even whispered a spell, a door opened before her. The Citadel was on her side, inviting her into the large, torch-lit room. The Vindensphere sat, unharmed, on a black cushion atop a round, stone table. She wrapped it in her coat and left the room. The Citadel allowed her to go – she was no thief. This was the will of the Citadel, also.

Uri Mon Lil was hiding in the woods, cowering, when she returned.

“You’re safe,” she told him when she found him. “But you have to come with me.”

“Where are you taking me?” he asked.

She managed a smile. “Home.”

She led the terrified wizard and the dragons into the dark wood in the northwest corner, the wood that led to the Crossing. The tangle of trees made way for the huge dragons and in no time they found themselves on the silvery shore where Eliza had first crossed over. This was where Kyreth had summoned the Hound of the Crossing to test her power.