Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (70 page)

The Queen appeared unmoved, but underneath her impassive demeanor, she ground her teeth.

Of course I care. I never stopped caring. You are the one who turned me down, remember?

* * *

Privet allowed the guards to take him past the line of waiting Matrons and Captains, then shook them off defiantly. They walked away, and he pumped his fist into his hand angrily as he walked down the corridors. “A trap. I stepped right into the same blasted trap as last time. What did I say to myself...all those years? What did I say? I said I would never let myself fall for another Wysterian girl.”

Privet pumped his fist again, but he couldn’t maintain his anger. It collapsed in on itself, and he leaned back against the wall.
It’s different this time. I’m trapped, but I don’t want to get out of this trap. Why is that? Is it because I really do love her? She drives me crazy, but...I just can’t change the way I feel. Now I’ve made things worse by yelling at her in front of everyone in her own court. Gah! I’m such an idiot.

Privet slid down onto his haunches. Absentmindedly, he rubbed the scars on his forearms. “Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Or, maybe it was meant to be, but you threw it away because you were scared.”

Privet looked up and saw Alder standing there over him. Alder looked pale and winded.

“Oh, hey Alder,” he said, rising back up to his feet.

Even though Alder was a good two heads shorter than him, when he stepped close, they felt like they were standing on equal footing. “You realize she can’t just acknowledge you in public in the middle of court, but that doesn’t change how she feels. The rules for court etiquette are very strict, but there are also very good reasons why those rules are in place.”

“I know...sorry about that.”

Alder placed his white-gloved hand across his heart, accepting the apology. “She’s always loved you, but you turned her down. She’s too stubborn to put her heart on the line by asking again.”

“So I guess I ruined everything, then,” Privet said, rubbing his scars.

Alder blinked, “Of course not, we’re just going to have to break with tradition and have you propose to her yourself.”

Privet was shocked. “I can’t believe I would ever hear
you
suggest something like that.”

Alder gave off the faintest smile. “Yes, I fear I may have picked up some bad habits while I was away.”

Privet looked around, as if expecting guards to come rushing in on them at any moment. “So, how would we go about something like that?”

“It’s simple, really. Deutzia and I will prepare the courtship dinner like we did on the Dreadnaught, but you will assume the role of Chevaleresse instead of Chevalier.”

“But how will we get her to...”

Alder raised his hand. “I have complete control over her schedule. I’ll make room for it. The question is, do you want to do this?”

His mind was made up before Alder even asked. “Yes...yes most definitely.” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

Alder bowed. “Excellent. I will begin the preparations. Although I should warn you, it may take a few weeks for everything to align.”

“That’s okay, I just wonder how you feel about all of this?”

Alder looked up. For a moment he hesitated, as if there was something he wanted to say, but instead he shook his head. “She needs you, and she loves you. That is all that matters.”

Privet shrugged. “Okay, then. I guess you and I are going to be brothers, then.”

Alder tiled his head. “You do realize that, as the second husband, you will be subordinate to me?”

Privet lifted an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yes. The first husband always has superior standing. Actually, I’m quite excited. I’ve never been in charge of anyone before.”

Privet crossed his arms. “You should realize that I’m never going to take orders from you.”

Alder sighed. “How typical.”

Privet looked around again. “Hey, if you’re out here, who’s doing the announcements?”

“Oh, I left Miss Bubbles in charge.”

* * *

Bunni Bubbles stepped out in front of the throne and tapped her pen against her clipboard. Clearing her throat, she announced in her cute little voice, “Presenting the big fat lady from the moorlands, Mistress Cycad.” Several of the courtiers covered their mouths in shock.

* * *

“I better get back,” Alder realized. “The Queen will not be pleased.”

The surface of the island of Iso was as cold and desolate as its people. A stinging wind whipped across the white landscape, creating a noise somewhere between a whistle and a howl, as if the very land itself was in pain. No trees or grasses grew there, only hardy little lichen that fed off the exposed rocks that occasionally thrust up from the frozen earth. Occasionally, the smooth and worn landscape was streaked with deep claw marks that seemed to cleave to the permafrost and the rocks.

And then, a little brown shorebird landed in the middle of the tundra. It looked so wholly out of place with its long beak and short spindly legs that if anyone had been there to see it, they'd have thought it some joke of a traveler or bored god to have deposited it there. It was not widely known except among Beastmasters and of course, the shorebirds themselves, that these seemingly unremarkable birds were capable of flying for weeks at a time without pause, covering distances of eight thousand miles or more without food, water, or rest.

The shorebird took a few steps and looked around, as if it were trying to get its bearings. That is when a coiled rocksnake sprung out of its hiding place beneath the lee of a rock, mouth open and fangs glistening.

The shorebird’s flesh came apart. Skin, muscle and sinew bursting in all directions, then re-knitting themselves into a new form. Husky layers of muscle and fat layered on top of black bones and quickly sprouted a thick layer of arctic white fur. It all happened so fast, the rocksnake didn’t even have time to notice that by the time it reached its target, the target now outsized it three times over.

The ice mole caught the striking snake in its jaws, snapping the viper’s neck before chewing and slurping the whole thing down. With a small burp, the ice mole burrowed down, its hard claws perfectly suited to digging through the permafrost. For hours and hours it dug deeper, down into the unforgiving earth, until finally it broke through to a place that didn’t exist on any map, and had no entrance or exit to the surface. Its existence was known only to a handful of people. Even the God Odansire, who ruled over these lands, was not aware of it, sitting beneath his island like a cancerous tumor.

The ice mole landed on the floor of the cave and looked up, the hole that had been dug was already closing itself over again. The mole’s flesh and bones exploded, then reformed themselves into the form of a tall blonde woman.

Mandi ran over to a maintenance closet and found a set of work clothes within. Throwing them over herself, she looked around. The walls of the cave were honeycombed, like an insect hive. Thousands of glass containers sat in the alcoves carved into the stone. They were filled with a dark green liquid that obscured everything else contained inside of them.

Mandi slipped up alongside one and tapped on the side of the glass. Inside something stirred, swirling away the muck, and giving a brief glimpse of what was inside. It was little more than a skeleton now, little gobs of meat hung at the joints, long white strands of cartilage, but it had once been a person.

I knew it! They're reducing the people they took from Madaringa directly into black shakes. He must desperate if he is doing it this way, it’s a really inefficient way to process raw material.

Mandi worked her way through two more rooms of tanks until she found what she was looking for. Fresh tanks, still clear enough to see the floating people inside. They were ghostly to behold, suspended their green tombs, right at the point of death, their clothes and hair already beginning to dissolve. Mandi moved from tank to tank, looking at the occupants inside. She felt something strange, something unexpected. She didn’t feel hungry. Not even a little. In fact, the thought of food or water was even a little repugnant to her. The colors of the world felt fainter, sounds duller. The things she always thought about just didn’t seem to matter that much anymore. The only thing she could think about, was finding Molly. She knew that if she did not find her in time, it would be too late.

Her heart beat faster and faster in her chest as she ran from tank to tank. There was a large part of her that found this all pointless.

Everyone dies sooner or later. After all, why should the timing of this one girl make any difference to me at all?

But, that part of her was being forcefully over-ridden by another part.

Molly is in pain, she is dying, I have to save her.

Finally, Mandi found a small tank in the corner. Molly floated inside. Already, her hair and nails had been dissolved, but when Mandi frantically pressed her cheek against the glass, she could hear a faint heartbeat coming from within.

Mandi reformed her arm into the shape of a claw and smashed the glass. The putrid water spilled out from within, hissing against the ground where it splattered. Mandi caught Molly as she spilled out and held her in her arms.

For what felt like an eternity, Molly did not move. Mandi felt herself getting angry, felt herself losing control. Then Molly coughed, clearing the liquid out of her lungs.

When Molly let out a little moan and breathed again, Mandi was so relieved she laughed out loud. Her heart felt so full, so pleased that this little girl was still alive. It didn’t make sense to her.

What...what is this?

Mandi brought her hand up to her cheeks and found fresh tears there.

I’m...crying? I’m so happy I’m actually crying?

Mandi held the little girl close. She felt a breathtaking desire to protect her, to keep her safe. It seemed to override every other impulse she had.

I've always known this world was coming to an end, that it was in its final hours, so it didn’t matter what happened. I've helped my father prepare for that day. I didn’t care, because there wasn’t anything in this world I would miss once it was gone.

Mandi gently brushed her fingers over the little girl’s face.

But now I’m overwhelmed with concern for this little person. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me, or when it happened, but my chest feels tight whenever I look at her. I...I don’t want her to get hurt. I...I would miss her if she disappeared.

Mandi felt more tears trickle down her face. For the first time in her life, the emptiness inside her was gone.

What do I do now? I...I've always believed that what I am feeling is impossible. I told myself it was just an illusion, a vague perception, but here it is, beating inside of me. Somehow I feel a connection to this little girl, this other person. But if that is true...then I...I don’t even want to consider what else.

Mandi shook her head.

No, I've got to be brave enough to see this through, no matter how much it hurts. If I can feel this way, then it means other people can, too. It means that the world I thought existed doesn’t really exist. It means that my father could have loved me, but he didn’t because...because...

She held Molly close and buried her face into her.

...Because he chose not to love me.

Mandi heard a clanking noise, and her head shot up. Someone was coming. She looked around at all the tanks and saw them with new eyes. These things floating around them in the tanks were not just raw material. They had others who cared about them the same way that Mandi cared about this little girl. They had fathers and mothers who chose to care for them, even if Mandi’s father had not. They had thoughts, feeling, emotions, dreams, and ambitions just like Mandi had.

They were people.

Mandi stood up, carrying the sleeping girl in her arms.

I...I see it now. What my father is doing is wrong, and he has to be stopped.

Her eyes became focused, and she reformed her body into the largest, strongest thing she could.

All was tense aboard the Destroyer Relentless as it raised a white flag and headed for the Wysterian shores. Staunch and jaded sailors prayed openly to their deities as they watched the other ships for any sign of attack. Admiral Roapes had standing orders to open fire on any ship that attempted to defect. Sometimes those orders were followed, most often they were not. Navy sailors were a tight-knit community. Despite their diverse backgrounds and languages, they shared a common experience and a common code. They learned to lean on one another and trust the sailor next to them. After a lifetime of respecting the uniform, it was incredibly difficult to open fire on it, even in the face of treachery. Minute by minute they watched on, waiting for the puff of smoke and the thunderclap of cannon fire, but it never came. In fact, they noted with some level of excitement that the Intrepid and the Predator had lowered their flags as well, and were following their example.