Rift in the Races (100 page)

Death to Poison
.

He felt it almost constantly, every time he had a guilty thought, every time his conscience twisted with the memory. Blue Fire was radiant with her sense of liberty for Altin Love. Altin was too. Or at least hopeful. Maybe Orli might come around. Come back. But he had new problems now. He feared himself. The ring felt like too much power. Not even the time required to consider while channeling. There were no insulators between emotion and action. That was how Neechy died, his sister, when he was only five. How his whole family had died. He’d killed them all.

At least those had been accidents.

But he had no time to reflect on it now. No time to take it back. And Blue Fire needed him. He wasn’t looking forward to this meeting with the Queen. He regarded his friend with a grim gaze. “There’s a lot more at stake now than there was at the ball. The existence of an entire world is riding on whether Her Majesty believes.”

“Then get to it. Mercy’s favor.”

“I’ll need it.” He was gone in half a heartbeat, the span of a thought, leaving Aderbury staring at the empty space, mouth agape.

The sun was setting on the Palace when Altin, in the company of High Priestess Maul and six other clerics, was granted audience with the Queen. Her Majesty sat bolt upright in her throne, an iron grip around her scepter and the elf in his black leathers visible and standing next to her, an oddity in and of itself. Altin recognized immediately that it was her intent to intimidate the priests. A year or two ago, he would have been intimidated too, but now, on this day, he understood what it really meant. The Queen was nervous. Something that would have seemed impossible before all of this began. His whole life had been spent on the assumption that figures like Queen Karroll and Tytamon were unassailable. They were supposed to be permanent and unwavering, the cornerstones of everything he knew and took for granted about … everything. The world was supposed to be safe and stable in their hands. And now, these figures that had underpinned reality throughout his life were all turning out to be simply human. Just people with all their flaws and weaknesses. They feared and fumbled. They died.

He felt he could no longer be so sure of anything. No certainty. It was all gone.

The Queen received the courtesies from them all, including the inclination of her own head, though from her seat upon the throne, out of respect for the presence of a high priestess, if not for the woman herself. It was an expected reciprocity, a custom dating back centuries.

She wasted no time after that. “So I hear you have come to buttress the story of the Earth woman Ensign Pewter in regards to the Hostile world.” The Queen’s tone was acidic as she spoke Orli’s name. The statement also made it clear that she had ears amongst the temples in Leekant.

“We have, Your Majesty,” said High Priestess Maul. “Blue Fire is her chosen name. But we know she is Feydore, wife of Anvilwrath. She speaks to us through the star of Hope and commands that you desist in your aid of the Earth people and that you convince them to call off the attack.”

Altin’s mouth fell open at the first part, but snapped shut with an audible click of teeth at the last. He hadn’t known anything about that “wife of Anvilwrath” part. Blue Fire certainly never suggested such a thing. Leave it to the priests to find a way to jam mythology into everything. That was going to unravel the whole argument. Worse, if there was anything he knew for certain, it was that the last thing that would work with Queen Karroll would be to command her to do anything. The Queen respected the gods well enough, but he wasn’t so sure a public challenge the size of the one the Maul had dropped was going to accomplish anything—and to think, Aderbury said Altin was bad at politics.

The Queen, however, remained remarkably composed. “Maul, I appreciate your generous advice, and the interpretation of events you bring is certainly more colorful than the advice I have gotten from Sir Altin here and from the Earth girl. However, I cannot in good conscience, call off the attack. First, it has already begun, and second, they aren’t my ships.”

“Your Majesty,” returned the high priestess with equal equanimity. “I realize you are not in a position of direct command of the fleet, but you are in a position of influence that is more than adequate to have the assault called off, or at least delayed. It is imperative that you do. The prophecies are coming true. The return of Anvilwrath is at hand, and if you do not stop the Earth people, you will bring doom upon us all.”

“How is this a sign of Anvilwrath’s return?”

“The stories tell us that he would come. Long ago, the goddess Feydore refused him a child, and in his wrath he set to destroy the world. The Great Sandfalls to this day marks the first blow of his mighty rage, the first of many that would break Prosperion apart. But Feydore pleaded with him to reconsider, and in her vast unspeakable sorrow, convinced him to go away, though he vowed that he would come back. Feydore promised to protect the people as long as—”

“I am well aware of the ancient stories, Maul. And I am sure you know that none of them made any mention of humans from other planets, great black orbs filled with cosmic lava or planets filled with … what was it you said, Sir Altin, glowing fungus and stones of golden light?”

“Inaccuracies occur over time, Your Majesty,” the Maul conceded. “Omissions, things lost or altered in translation, but only a fool would refuse to see the truth of what is happening.”

The Queen leapt from the throne. “You dare call me a fool in my own house? Maul you may be, but I can have your head as easily as any other subject, woman, and then you can see to the truth of your prophesy firsthand from the spirit world.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Altin could tell it pained the high priestess to resort to humility. She wasted no additional effort on it, though. “I am prepared to prove the truth of it.”

The Queen’s icy gaze moved from the Maul to Altin then, questioningly.

“She can actually prove it, Your Majesty. It is how I was able to find my way to the planet.”

“I have no interest in going to that planet, if that is your intent,” said the Queen, actually looking startled for the briefest flutter of eyelashes.

“There seems to be no danger of that, My Queen,” said the Maul. “None of us were taken, as Sir Altin was.” She turned to include the six priests she’d brought with her. “Each of us in our turn was found by Feydore—by Blue Fire. She only spoke to us through dreams. But there can be no mistake. And she is willing to find you too. She has requested … an audience.”

Altin could hear the fabric of truth stretching dangerously in that last part.

“Let me guess: you’re going to have me imbibe some magical potion. Sir Altin, what was that you said, a black smoke? Yes, I’ll take a nice dose of that and then I’m sure it will all be clear.” She sat back down, calmly. “I think not.”

Altin couldn’t hold his tongue. “Your Majesty, please. You have to stop this. At least go see for yourself.”

“I have no reason to see it for myself.”

Altin ground his teeth.

“Yes, Your Majesty, you do.” His shoulders drooped as he said it, and he sent a silent apology to the memory of Tytamon.

There was a resignation in his voice that turned her fully toward him, more than just curiosity in her eyes. “Sir Altin, I believe you have been hiding something from me.”

“It’s called Liquefying Stone. The golden cavern is filled with it. It’s the yellow stone you …” he turned for a moment and glanced at the Maul standing to his right, “and the high priestess both seek to understand. It’s why the orcs invaded Calico Castle. Tytamon had three pieces of it. The orcs got two of them. I had one, but it was lost when I came home in the unfortunate manner that I did.”

Neither Queen nor high priestess said a word, so Altin pressed on.

“Liquefying Stone softens mana. It loosens it like melting snow. It allows more power to be channeled and for a longer time. It’s almost impossible to empty the sky. There is enough of it with Blue Fire to arm every magician in your army, Your Majesty. Or there would be if Blue Fire were inclined to give it up.”

The greatest magical challenge to the majesty of Crown City was the management of the mana pool being used by its many enchantments and magical enterprises. The very thought of something like Liquefying Stone suggested a whole new world order above and beyond the whole new world order that had already begun with the Magical Revolution. It was also the sort of thing that could make the difference with the elves. She would surely be able to defeat them and end the uncomfortable détente, ridding herself of their foolish prophesies as well.

Altin hated that he’d divulged it. He knew even as the words came out of his mouth that he was betraying everything Tytamon had hoped to achieve. But Tytamon had not known about Blue Fire. Tytamon’s cause was the cause of an earlier time, and the great wizard would never have sanctioned the destruction of an entire world. He hadn’t sanctioned it. Altin could still hear his words:
It’s not our place to decide what species live or die. Those decisions belong to the gods. Not men
. The convolutions of irony were vast and painful. But what choice did he have? It was a gamble, he knew. The Queen might just as easily think destroying the planet would give her access to the stone anyway. Though they’d still have to find where it was, deep inside a giant world. And the descriptions of the aftermath of an all-out missile attack made it sound as if that might not be a pleasant undertaking. So, perhaps she would choose the least arduous path. At least for now. And that was the soul of his gambit. Give her the stone, or the hope of it, and save a world. He hoped it didn’t ultimately result in the destruction of Prosperion instead.

The smile that crossed the Queen’s face frightened him, but he saw in it that he had won his gamble for now. “All right,” she said. “I will go and have your dream. Let’s be on with it. If you are right, there isn’t much time left.”

Chapter 81

R
oberto’s palms were slick with sweat as he slowed the ship, approaching the Hostile world. This was it. They were about to get it done, about to finish the Hostiles off for good. He could finally go home. Or maybe he could settle on Prosperion. There was that hot Lena Foxglove to consider. He had no family back on Earth, at least none that he was close enough with to make a ten-year trip worth going through—again.

Whatever he decided, at least it was getting close to a time in his life where he could make decisions for himself. He wasn’t quite so wrecked by the journey as he felt Orli was, but he was definitely done with this particular voyage, this mission. It was time to move on with his life. Which meant it was time to finish the job they had set out to do. He was as nervous about it as he was excited. Today was the day that would make or break the rest of his life. He just hoped the Hostiles didn’t have some nasty new trick up their sleeves—or tucked into the rocky crags of that mostly inhospitable world that was rapidly expanding on the view screen.

“Take us into high orbit, Commander,” ordered Captain Asad. “Nguyen, get the all-com up.”

“Up, sir,” said the eager young ensign. He looked as ready for it as Roberto was.

“All ships in position in seventeen minutes,” came the count from the admiral’s ship. “Verify anti-magic placements now.”

“Do it,” said Asad.

“Aye, sir,” said Ensign Nguyen. Pressing a pair of orange lights on his com, he said, “Annison, this is Ensign Nguyen. Please verify enchantments are still in place for all nukes and that all are ready to deploy.”

A moment of static followed, a now-familiar sign that the conscripted magician was standing near the missiles, or in the midst of casting something. Finally his tired-sounding voice returned. “They are ready.”

“Ready, sir,” reported the ensign unnecessarily.

“
Aspect
weapons ready and prepared for launch,” reported Captain Asad on the all-com.

They could hear the affirmations of the other ships reporting similarly.

“Four minutes,” came the count as the
Aspect
slipped into its assigned place above the southern pole, the same position it had taken the first time they’d come here. The others were filling in the planetary graphic on the lower left quarter of the main display. Each ship, as it moved toward the figure of the planet, showed as a white light that turned red when it was in position.

Only two ships remained on approach.

“One minute,” came the count.

“Goddamn, this is going to be awesome,” said Roberto, unable to keep it to himself.

Ensign Nguyen, still uncomfortable in the presence of Captain Asad, only whispered back, “This bitch is going to fry.”

The last white dot, only seconds from its assigned orbit, began to blink.

“Twenty seconds,” came the count.

“Stay alert, people,” said the admiral. “In seven, six, five, four, three, two … one.”

The graphical view filled with light as dashed lines streaked from the ship markers, coloring the display with the digital tracks of over a hundred missiles fired in perfect unison.

“Wave one is off. Watch for incoming,” ordered the admiral.

Ensign Nguyen tapped up the video feed on both of the
Aspect’s
missiles as Roberto sequenced the next pair.