Hammer of Time (The Reforged Trilogy) (22 page)

"Is this important?" she asked. She nodded back at Ballad and the rest of the new Arcadians who had landed behind her. "We have tired newcomers."

Ferris took in Ballad's appearance – his worn denims torn out at one knee, short Prian-cut hair and the leather jacket cut up the back to fit over his wings – and frowned. Ballad frowned right back.

"It is concerning your coronation tomorrow," Ferris said, shifting his gaze back to Maeve.

"It's fine, Glass," Gripper told her. "Hunter and I can help them settle. They're going to the new tower, right?"

Maeve nodded. Logan shifted one of Vellania's bags on his shoulder and bent to kiss Maeve before escorting the Arcadians down the orange road toward one of the delicate glass spires. Ballad waved to Maeve, spread his wings and followed the rest of the fairies.

Ferris' lips remained in a tight, unhappy line. "That is the one Coldhand wanted so much money to bring? Where is he from? He has the manners of a dryad."

"Prianus," Maeve answered. "Logan was hunting the Nihilists in Pylos when Ballad accosted him. He was trained by someone Logan greatly respected. Ballad is very brave and very capable."

"Capable of what?" Ferris asked sourly, but then shook his head. "Forgive me, a'shae. All are welcome in Kaellisem, naturally."

Maeve was grateful that the duke did not want to argue about Ballad. "You wished to speak with me about the coronation?" she prompted.

"About after you are crowned, in truth," Ferris said. "Please, my queen, will you fly with me?"

Maeve vaulted into the air beside him. The wind was hot but strong, lifting Maeve and Ferris high into the pale sky over Kaellisem. The small – but glowing – glass city spread out below them, red and gold and fiery orange and deep, secretive russet. Winged Arcadians stood or sat on translucent balconies. Some walked down the single central road. There were a few stalls set up, staffed by humans and Lyra in hopes of wheedling a few cenmarks from the new settlers. Maeve caught a glimpse of Logan and the others just before they vanished into one of the half-finished towers.

"It is amazing," Ferris said softly, just loud enough to carry over the wind to Maeve's pointed ears. "You have done more for our people in six weeks than anyone has in decades, my queen. You have given us a home and hope we thought long dead."

Maeve chewed her lip. Ferris gave her too much credit for Kaellisem. It was the glassingers, under Hyra's direction, who were building the city, not Maeve. But it was good to see glass towers rising up toward the sun again, even an alien sun. Kaellisem
was
beautiful.

Duke Ferris landed on a slender bridge with a pale rose color swirled into the glass that connected the tallest pair of Kaellisem towers. An Arcadian man already stood in the center of the transparent span. He was older than Maeve, but far younger than Duke Ferris. He wore his hair in a smooth fall of blond braids woven with midnight blue ribbons. His clothes, too, were simple: pants and a sleeveless shirt of a smooth silver fabric. He turned to face them as Maeve and Ferris landed.

Maeve gasped. She
knew
him. "Anthem? What are you doing here?" Maeve narrowed her eyes and took several steps back. "Ferris, this is Anthem Calloren. Titania's consort!"

"He knows who I am," Anthem said. He held up his hands. He did not carry a spear, or any kind of blade that Maeve could see. "Whatever else you decide… I want only to speak with you."

"Why? Has Xartasia sent you to kill me?" Maeve asked.

Her heart raced in her breast. She had to fly. She needed her spear. She had to get to Logan. Maeve was no match for Anthem Calloren alone, but with her hunter, she might be able to fight… Ferris placed a gently restraining hand on Maeve's tensed arm. Was the old duke a traitor? After all this, was he going to deliver Maeve to her cousin? Or perhaps just her head…?

"Listen," Ferris said urgently.

Anthem took a half-step closer, hands held open as though approaching a dangerous animal. Maeve glared at the pale-haired knight. "Speak quickly," she hissed. "What could my cousin's lover want of me?"

"To join you," said Anthem. "I have heard your speeches. You told us that Titania lives. But I could not rejoice, not when I learned what she has become. I cannot go to her, Maeve."

"So Sir Anthem came to Kaellisem," Duke Ferris told Maeve. "He sought me out and begged an audience with you."

Anthem looked at her with eyes of the same dark sapphire color as the ribbons in his hair. "I would join you, Queen Maeve. If it is true, that the woman I loved has become a monster, then you are all I have left of her."

Maeve stared. Could this really be happening? Anthem Calloren was one of the greatest knights of the White Kingdom, rivaling even Orthain Fyre. Kaellisem had no knights, but with Anthem's help, maybe she could change that…

"Thank you, Sir Anthem," she said, voice wavering. "I…"

Before she could share her idea, Ferris' fingers tightened on her shoulder. Maeve tore her eyes from Anthem to look at the duke. "My queen, there is more here before you than a knight. I see what the human hunter, Coldhand, means to you, my queen. But he is not of noble blood. He is not even Arcadian."

The world tipped up on its side and Ferris had to hold Maeve up. "What? What does that matter?"

"You have given our people a queen, but now they need a king. An Arcadian king, a'shae."

Maeve tore herself from Ferris' grasp and staggered away. There was empty air under her heels and Maeve had to beat her wings once, swiftly, to propel her back onto the bridge. "Logan is my enarri!" she cried. "I love him! He walked alone through the storm to find me. We have shared bed and battle and bloodshed!"

"I do not doubt his worth as a man," said Ferris, though the sour note of distaste in his voice made it quite clear that he did. "But your people thought the House of Cavain dead for a hundred years. They see your black hair now and hope that the White Kingdom may be theirs again. The pride and the history, my queen… But there can be no royal line without heirs, a'shae. Even if the people could ever respect a human consort, Logan Coldhand cannot father Arcadian children."

"And so you would… would have me give him up?" Maeve said. Blood roared in her ears like a stormy ocean. She pointed a shaking finger at Anthem. "My enarri? For
this
man?"

"Sir Anthem Calloren was a worthy consort to King Illain's eldest daughter, heir to the throne," Ferris reminded her. "He is an unparalleled knight of a well-known noble house. He is a good match for you, Your Highness. Your people will cheer to see Sir Anthem beside their new crowned queen tomorrow."

Maeve could not speak. She spun to stare at Anthem. Surely he would have nothing to do with this… madness. But he looked up at Maeve with blue-black eyes. "I would be honored to serve however I may," he said. "I offer myself freely as knight or consort, my queen."

No. Maeve could never do it. She
loved
Logan. No one could make her give him up… But Ferris' idea did make a wretched sort of sense. Maeve and Xartasia were the last of their line and without an Arcadian mate, there would never be another black-haired fairy again. Cavain's house would fail. After ten thousand years, it would die.

Maeve reeled, threw out her wings and dove from the bridge. Hot tears seared her eyes and she very nearly smashed into a golden-streaked tower before she found Logan standing in the street, talking to Ballad's friend, Kashan. Maeve fell to the ground and threw herself into her hunter's arms.

"Maeve?" he asked, surprised. His ice-blue eyes went hard and dangerous. "What's wrong, dove?"

"Love is a blade. Any weapon can be taken away and used to cut the one who treasured it most."

– Anthem Calloren (294 PA)

Maeve walked beside Logan all the way up the spiraling glass stairs of her tower. It was one of few spires in Kaellisem that had a staircase, crafted by Hyra at Maeve's insistence. When they reached the top, Logan sat in one of the open windows and pulled Maeve into his mismatched arms. She closed her eyes, resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder, and wrapped her long white wings around them both. Logan gently stroked the soft skin between Maeve's wings.

"Ferris isn't wrong," he said. "You and I can never have a family, dove. You know that."

"I do not care," Maeve insisted. At least, that was what Logan thought she said. It was hard to make out the words with her face buried against the side of his neck. "I love you. You are my enarri."

"And I–" The words caught in Logan's throat as though they had thorns. He laid his cheek against the top of Maeve's head. Her black hair was smooth and soft. "Dove, don't be so quick to discount this."

Maeve slid out of Logan's arms and jumped to her feet. "Do not dare to tell me that you would give me up to Anthem Calloren!"

Logan remained in the window. His cybernetic hand slipped on the smooth glass and scraped loudly. The tower room was full of a diffused orange glow as the sun shined through the delicate walls and the warm wind smelled of dust. Maeve began to pace, stalking back and forth like a caged animal. Her eyes were rimmed in red.

"If I am truly queen," she fumed, "then I may make any law I wish, take any man I desire! And I desire you, Logan. I will have you or no one!"

Logan couldn't help smiling at his furious angel. Maeve had such fire. Even when he felt coldest, numbed and chilled by his mechanical heart, a single kiss or just a moment in her arms made him feel so alive. Logan stood and stepped into the path of Maeve's angry pacing. She bumped into him and hissed in rage.

"Do not–" she started, but Logan caught her wrist in the unbreakable grasp of his illonium fingers.

"You know it's not that simple. Maeve, you know what I'm like. We're here to inspire, to take your people away from whatever Xartasia's got planned for them, for the whole galaxy. I'm no good at that. Do you think this Anthem hawk might be?"

Maeve swiped tears from her gray eyes. One splashed onto Logan's hand. It sparkled in the filtered sunlight, but he couldn't feel the wet heat.

"Sir Anthem is an accomplished knight," Maeve said as reluctantly as though Logan had tortured the answer out of her. "Ferris did not exaggerate that. He was well known in the White Kingdom."

"And he was Xartasia's consort, right?" Logan prompted. "If they see him by your side instead of hers, that's going to look bad for her."

Maeve tried to yank her hand free from Logan's metallic grasp and scowled up at the Prian. "Yes, I suppose. You have a better head for politics than you claim," she commented acidly. "And in the name of higher ideals, you would… would let me go? After you fought so hard to find me again?"

Logan's hand clenched around the Arcadian's delicate wrist. She squirmed in pain, but her expression remained defiant.

"I would do anything for you, Maeve," he said in a low voice. "Anything. Including letting you go. What we're doing here is important, dove. I know what it means to you."

"Not more than you!" Maeve screamed. She put her free hand over Logan's cybernetic one and kissed the flat gray illonium.

"Yes, more than me," Logan said. He pulled Maeve close again and closed his eyes. If he gave a single inch now, she would never listen. "I told you that you would be queen, Maeve. A great queen. Your people need you."

Maeve cried and beat her small fists against Logan's chest until she collapsed, shaking and sobbing, to the floor. He sank to the ground and held her until the storm of tears subsided. Maeve's wings draped across the glass behind her like a bridal train. She lifted her face and kissed Logan.

"Tomorrow, I will go to Ferris. I will tell him that… that I accept Anthem as my consort. But not now."

Logan kissed her again and they stumbled together to the bedroom, tearing at each other's clothes with a terrible, desperate need. Naked and shaking, Maeve twined her arms around her hunter's neck and would not let go. She whispered and sang her passion in lyrical Arcadian, words Logan could not understand. Maybe it was better that he could not understand. He traced fingertips over every pale, slender curve of Maeve's body, memorizing every inch of her. The scent of her hair and sun-warmed feathers, the taste of tears and sweat on her silky skin, the sound of Maeve's cries and the clear bell tone of his name on her lips…

Logan held her long after their bodies could no longer endure the rigors of their need. Starlight shone weakly through the glass tower and outlined them both in faded silver. Maeve's eyes fluttered, fighting sleep. Logan kissed her damp forehead.

"Sleep, dove," he told her. "Tomorrow is an important day."

"Do not go," Maeve whispered, splaying her fingers over his heart, over the knotted white scar there. "Stay with me."

Logan put his hand over hers. "I won't go. Not until morning," he promised.

Maeve nodded and fell at last into a deep, still sleep. Logan lay awake until dawn, watching her.

________

Maeve woke alone in the pale pink light of the early morning. Logan was gone. His clothes, his gun and even the warm spot beside her in the bed had all vanished. Maeve drew a deep, shuddering breath. The time for tears was over.