Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (50 page)

“You know, Margaret,” Athel pointed out as she looked over Alder’s shoulder, “you really should consider aiming a little higher.”

Margaret wrinkled her nose and looked up, as if expecting to see something.

“No, what I mean is, if you give all these notes to your professor, he’s going to publish them and get all the credit. You've got way more actual experience then he does. Why not just publish it all yourself?”

“Oh, I could never do that,” Margaret blushed. The University Board decides what may be published and what may not be published.”

“So, publish it yourself. Use some of your share of the gemstones.”

Margaret blinked. “But, even if I did, it wouldn’t count as a real book.”

“Why not?”

“Because only the University Board can decide what counts as a real book.”

“Says who?”

“The University Board.”

“Well, who are they to decide? Do they write books?”

“Well, no.”

“Are they experts on Dragons or Wysterian culture or something?”

“Oh no, definitely not. They just make money off things other people have written.” Margaret thought for a second. “In fact, most of the books they pick aren’t really that good.”

Athel leaned in close. “Why not let the readers decide what they want to read? Eh? Why not decide for yourself?”

Margaret thought long and hard. Suddenly, her face lit up. “I think I see what you are saying.”

“Good.” Athel grinned.

“You're saying that if I work my way onto the board, then one day I can decide which books count and which ones do not.”

Athel groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“You're thinking like a poor person,” Privet observed as he slid the cleaned cannon into place and secured it. “With the amount of money you have in your cabin, you could print a million copies and give them away to everyone. If your books are everywhere, who would have the right to say they weren’t real?”

Privet hopped up onto the command deck and sat down. “Or, just bribe the University Board members to acknowledge your book. That’s probably cheaper, anyway.”

A tear in the air appeared and Setsuna stepped through. She quietly sat down at Privet’s feet and began using a wet cloth to wipe the dust and dirt off of his boots for him.

Margaret chewed on her thumbnail. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting this to be so complicated. I’m not sure what to do.”

“What do you think, Setsuna?” Alder asked without looking up.

Setsuna looked up and smiled sweetly, then went to work applying a fresh layer of polish to Privet’s boots.

“The point is,” Privet continued, “that you are dealing with a system designed to keep people out, and this board has set themselves up as the gatekeepers. But you don’t have to play their game by their rules. With your resources, you can ignore it, subvert it, or bribe your way past it. Heck, with the money you have you could just buy the board and then dismantle the whole thing.”

Athel was having trouble hiding her irritation as she watched Setsuna lovingly buff up Privet’s boots to a mirror shine. Her mind knew that Privet did not belong to her, but her heart reacted as if something of hers was being stolen.

Margaret, on the other hand, looked completely overwhelmed, and the winds were becoming more choppy as a result. “All I wanted was to graduate,” she pouted, “now I don’t know what to do.”

It was then that Pops the janitor worked his way past the podium, calmly mopping the deck in his home-made Navy uniform. “Some people have big dreams,” he mused, “and some people have small dreams.”

Pops reached out and placed an aged hand on Margaret’s shoulder. “If your dreams are small, keep them that way. What is important is that they are yours.”

Margaret nodded. “Thanks, Pops.”

Mina walked up wearing a fresh uniform with a towel around her head. “After an hour of scrubbing I still can’t get all the mud out,” she complained.

Setsuna vanished then reappeared behind Privet, and began rubbing his wide shoulders with her hands. Privet leaned back, accepting the back rub with gusto.

“What is she doing?” Captain Evere asked as he joined them.

As if to emphasize the point, Setsuna rubbed lower on his back, looking straight at Athel with teasing green eyes as her lips hovered an inch from Privet’s neck.

“Don’t you get it?” Athel burst out. “You told her back there that you like girls that don’t speak much, so she’s pretending to be a mute.”

“Not just a mute,” Privet clarified, leaning forward to give Setsuna better access to his back. “A mute who does whatever I ask of her.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Athel warned, folding her arms.

“Are you kidding? For the first time in my life, a woman does what I ask her to. I’m totally taking advantage of this. Maybe being married might not be such a bad idea after all.”

Setsuna squealed with delight and wrapped her arms around Privet’s neck. “Do you mean it?” she gushed. “Does this mean you accept me as your wife?”

Athel looked like she was about to pop as she fought to contain her anger.

Setsuna moved to pull the rings off her necklace, but Privet motioned for her to stop. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he cautioned. “These things take time.”

“So, what can I do to speed things along?” Setsuna asked, a little smirk crossing her lips.

Privet shrugged. “Some ice cream couldn’t hurt your odds.”

Setsuna squeed happily and disappeared through a gate.

“You should not take advantage of her,” Alder scolded.

“Why not?” Privet asked, “Athel treats you the same way.”

“That’s different,” Alder insisted.

“How?” Privet pushed.

Alder moved to answer him, but stopped. He was at a loss for words.

“Actually, she treated him worse,” Captain Evere recalled. “Made the boy dance in a skirt.”

“Yes, I did that and worse,” Athel admitted. “But I was wrong, and I regret what I did. I called him a dog and a pig and even worse, but he’s not, he’s a good strong man.”

Athel looked at Alder, her eyes swimming. The truth is I don’t deserve him.” Then she turned to Privet. “And you will regret it too, if you don’t knock it off.”

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Privet defended. “I’m just having a little fun.” He looked around for someone to agree with him, but no one did. “Look, she is dangerous. I know that, we all do. I figure it’s only a matter of time before she tries to stab me in the back. Until then, I'll just keep my guard up and enjoy the ride.”

“But it is flattering, isn’t it?” Mina asked. “Having someone fawn over you.”

Privet shrugged. “I guess.”

Mina’s lavender eyes twinkled. “How do you think Alder defrosted Athel’s icy heart? You let her pamper you long enough, and it will get to you, whether you want it to or not.”

Athel glanced over at Mina, trying to decide if she was kidding or not. “I don’t have an icy heart!” she protested.

“Not anymore,” Mina clarified.

A fresh gate opened up and Setsuna stepped though, happily carrying a bowl filled with three different kinds of ice cream, and topped with just about every topping possible. “I brought you ice cream, sweetie,” she boasted.

“Oh, not the Marionberry,” Alder said, clearly distressed. “I was saving that for one of Lady Athel’s midnight cravings.”

“You didn’t have to go this far,” Privet cautioned as he took the bowl from her. One of the scoops of ice cream stirred, and then Bunni Bubbles poked her head out, her hair covered with syrup and sprinkles. “I’m a sundae!” she sang happily.

“Hey, get out of there,” Setsuna said as she plucked Bunni out of the bowl and tossed her aside. “You are going to make people sick getting in their food like that.”

“Actually, golems are completely sanitary,” Alder reminded everyone as he gently picked up Bunni from the deck and took her downstairs to get cleaned up.

“Athel used to treat Bunni like that too,” Ryin recalled.

“Okay, I think we've played the ‘Let’s Point out Athel’s Flaws Game’ long enough,” Athel complained. “Let’s go and do something else.” The emotional high from earlier was wearing off, and she was beginning to feel uneasy again. Even though they were in the middle of the sky, with the wind whipping about, she felt as if walls were closing in tight around her.

Margaret picked up her notebook. “Well, if you have the time, you still haven’t covered a few things about Wysteria for me.”

Athel sniffed. This was the last thing she wanted to think about, let alone talk about. Every mile they traveled brought them closer to Wysteria, and closer to her fate. “Um, I’d really rather not, but I guess we might not get another chance...I suppose.”

“Yay.”

Athel sat down opposite her while Margaret found the relevant page and prepped her quill.

“So, what do you want to know about?” Athel began, trying to ignore Setsuna as she fed Privet spoonfuls of ice cream. “Our trade and commerce infrastructures, our educational system?”

“Tell me about the link,” Margaret requested, her glasses slipping down to the end of her nose.

Athel was a little taken aback. “Okay...that’s going to be kind of hard to talk about.”

Margaret scooted closer. “Why? Is it secret? Do I need to join your cult first?”

“Um...”

“Because I totally will,” Margaret offered earnestly. “I'll do the oath, drink the wine, cut open the frog, whatever you need.”

“What? No! Gross.” Athel gagged, sticking out her tongue. “No, I meant it’s hard to talk about because there aren’t words that accurately describe it. It’s like...okay, imagine you are trying to describe the way pepper tastes to someone who has never tasted pepper. You can say it is peppery, but they just aren’t going to understand, because they have never experienced it.”

Margaret leaned in close, her face focused. “Is the link...peppery?”

The humor drained away from Athel’s face. “Just write down what I say, word for word.”

“M'Kay,” Margaret agreed, stuffing her face in the notebook, ready to write.

“All right,” Athel said. She tried to clear her thoughts, but it was nearly impossible. She felt like a giant clock was ticking down, and her mind kept drifting to the things she wanted to get done with the little time she had left. Even worse, Setsuna was right there, playfully wiping a stray bit of ice cream off Privet’s chin and sucking it off her finger. Athel’s fists clenched. She could feel her face flushing. “I would say that the link is the single greatest difference between Wysterians and every other people.”

Setsuna snickered. “Because you can talk to bushes?”

Athel’s eyebrow twitched and she turned to Setsuna. “No, because the rest of you are alone. You are so completely alone you don’t even realize how bad it is. You think it’s normal to be completely isolated from everyone else.”

“Pffftt,” Setsuna chuckled as she fed Privet another bite of ice cream. “If you ask me, the world is too full. On some islands the people are packed in so tight they can’t breathe.”

“See, that’s the thing, you are missing the point entirely. You are talking about the distance between bodies, I am talking about the distance between hearts. You are talking about salt, I am talking about pepper. Those other people you are packed in with, you have to ask them what they are thinking, because you don’t know. You have to ask them what they are feeling, because you don’t know. And even when they tell you, it’s just words. You can never actually experience their emotions yourself. You can never truly see their memories as if they were your own. You can never experience their thoughts. No matter how hard you try, you are completely isolated from everyone around you. Alone in your own mind.”

Margaret strained to keep up, her quill speeding along the paper.

“But Wysterians can?” Captain Evere asked as he sat and listened carefully, his cap tipped forward over his eyes.

“Yes, through the link,” Athel explained. “I remember so many times these delegates from other islands would come and pester my mother. They wanted to know why our crime rate was so low, or why there was no real poverty, no starvation, no neglect of the sick and the elderly, all these problems that the rest of them are plagued with on a daily basis. And she would always answer them the same way. She'd explain that if their people could only see into each others hearts, and understand the unique personal challenges that they each face, they would treat each other with more love, patience and tolerance. All those problems would go away, because they are caused by the distance between hearts.”

“Or, you might be terrified at what you find,” Privet added.

Athel was surprised. “What do you mean?”

Privet straightened up. “Athel is sugar-coating it for you guys. Think about it: If there was someone you had wronged, someone you had betrayed, and let’s face it, we have all hurt people at some point. Every last one of us. Would you really want to feel their hatred for you? Would you really want to feel their pain, knowing that you caused it? I've seen the women of Wysteria at each other’s throats for years over some stray, ill-guarded thought. Great houses have feuded for centuries when some biting comment spiraled out of control.”

“Well, there is that, too,” Athel admitted, “but it can be a good thing. Knowing the pain you caused teaches you to be more careful in the...”

“Oh, it makes them careful, all right,” Privet interrupted. “But only towards the people they know they will link with. It does nothing to stem their cruelty when dealing with inferiors.”

Athel forced her jaw to unclench. “You know, Privet, I am trying so hard to be patient with you right now...”

“You have to admit he makes a good point,” Setsuna prodded as she sat alongside Privet, wrapping an arm possessively around his waist. “None of this ‘uber-empathy’ you claim to feel seems to change the way you treat your men. I wonder, if the men of Wysteria were allowed to join the link, would you really want to feel first hand how they feel about their treatment?”

Athel struggled to keep her temper. “Sometimes, I really wish they could, but they can’t.”

Emboldened, Setsuna pressed harder, grabbing onto Privet’s bicep with her other hand. “Neither can foreigners, so why explain it to them? Admit it, all you are doing is rubbing our faces in it. Reminding us of something that we can never have, that only you oh-so-special Wysterian women can have.”