Queen Yavara Ch. 52

"I can cut it out now, Your Highness." She hissed, "You don't need it to scream in the arena."

"Why didn't Adrianna tell you about our plan?" I hissed back. Furia face faltered a fraction. It was all I needed. I glanced over her shoulder at Yavara, confirming by her expression that she couldn't hear me. "She couldn't trust you, Furia." I whispered, "She was afraid that you were too far gone."

"Don't fucking tell me about Adrianna!"

"I knew her better than you!" I snapped, "Tell me, did she ever conspire with you before? Did she ever tell you about her fears?"

Furia didn't answer, but that was all the answer I needed.

"Adrianna knew about Elena and I."

Furia didn't answer again.

"She knew what Yavara would do if she found out."

Her eyes stared steadily into me, and her head offered an imperceptible nod.

"Yavara knows, Furia." I mouthed so quietly that no sound came out, "She knows everything now, and her hatred has consumed her. She will fake an attack on the horde—you will see, and she will use it to commit genocide against the Highlands—our people, Furia. Adrianna remembered them. Do you?"

For a moment, Furia's face was an open book. Then it slammed shut, the wrath returning to it, and she wound back her fist and delivered a strike across my jaw with such speed that I didn't even have time to flinch. I was blasted into the wall, my head ringing, blood and spittle splattering the stones.

"You're just a bitter, dead cunt." Furia snarled above me, "I can see through your lies! They're desperate, and you're pathetic."

"She remembered!" I gasped back, cowering in the corner.

Her hand poised for another strike before Yavara's came around to clasp it. "Don't give her what she wants, Furia." Yavara said soothingly. Though she wore a mask of concern, she seemed quite pleased with herself. She couldn't see that Furia's rage was just a surface emotion, a reaction like a sneeze to an infection that was much more insidious. It would fester inside of her, playing with the doubts she already had buried within her, growing like a cancer as Yavara took each inevitable step toward her fate. The Dark Queen put her arm around Furia, and escorted her victoriously from the cell, but Zander remained behind.

The wizard studied me, his skulled and crowned staff glowing with power in the dim light.

"What do you want, Fredeon?" I groaned.

"It's never really mattered what I want, Your Highness. I am but a servant."

I rolled my eyes. "Why are you here?"

He gestured to the ceiling corner of the cell, where a gemstone twinkled. "I've been watching you." He tapped his ear, where an identical gemstone hung from his earlobe, "Listening to you. I heard your conversation with Eva Alecia last night, and I heard your conversation with Furia just now. An attack on the horde? I'm sorry, Leveria, but that's a reach. Yavara already neutered the horde by killing the tribe leaders, and she'll need the manpower to face off against the Lowland fleet."

"She'll need some way to justify what she's going to do."

"She's not going to do anything."

I sneered behind bloody teeth. "I don't really care what you think."

He gave me a scrutinizing look. "I know what you're trying to do with the hybrids."

"You should probably stop letting Yavara's pets come visit me then."

He snorted. "As if I had that kind of power anymore. I'm on such thin ice with Yavara that one misstep will end me."

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing," he said, pondering me, "I just wanted to get a good look at you. We've never met face-to-face before—not in the flesh, anyway—and you're such an integral part of everything I hold dear."

"I still remember the way Prestira's tongue felt in my cunt." I sneered at him, "I remember that slutty little expression on her face when my men raped her mindless. I remember the way she moaned when they pissed all over her."

Zander just snorted. "That sounds like Prestira's typical Tuesday. Try harder."

I shrugged, "There's no point."

Zander assessed the room for a moment, then eased himself gingerly onto a stool. "I should probably leave," he said, "staying here does me no good at all. I like to think I'm immune to you, but I know it's not true. Every word that comes from your mouth is a calculated strike, and even I can't grasp the full intention of each attack. Perhaps you knew that I wouldn't rise to your bait, and now I'm doing exactly as you intended by continuing this conversation. Perhaps I'm playing right into your hand by ruminating on your tactics. Furia's right, we should cut out your tongue."

"So why are you sitting down?"

He stroked his beard, and pondered my question for a moment. "Wisdom is knowing that you know very little, and that insight can be gleaned from the most unexpected of sources. Brock Terdini's last words to me have been eating at my soul ever since he uttered them. I guess he gave me a piece of wisdom. Alkandi gave me much wisdom, both in her life and afterwards. Maybe you will give me some wisdom now."

"Go ask Yavara for some."

His pure-white eyes rested on me as he caressed the skull that adorned his staff. "Yavara has none to give me. All that she has accomplished has been gained through her power, and not by making the right choice."

"Power is the right choice, Zander Fredeon. Alkandi knew that, now Yavara does as well."

"Yavara is powerful; Alkandi gained power. There is a difference. Alkandi was not nearly as magically gifted as Yavara, and so she had to create her own power. She was the boss of a street gang before she was a queen, and she didn't get drug-dealers, racketeers, and slavers on her side by flexing and fucking. She was a master manipulator. Yavara can't manipulate her way out of a carboard box. If she can't fuck someone into submission, she'll simply destroy them."

"You don't need people skills if you're a god."

"You need them if you're a queen." Zander said, "Yavara is a good woman—"

I burst out laughing.

Zander waited for me to finish. "Yavara is a good woman, but her capacity for good is dependent on those around her. Elena, Adrianna, Prestira were all—"

"But not Zander?"

He smiled ruefully. "No, not me. What is it all those people have in common, Leveria? They're all gone, and now the only love she can count on, is that of the mob she rules. Do you see what you've done?"

"What we've done, Zander. I didn't kill Adrianna."

"Neither did I."

A dangerous hope flickered in my chest. "Why not?"

"I'm just hedging my bets." He said, taking out his pipe and sticking it in his mouth, "I've become uncertain. Brock made me uncertain, that bastard." He lit his bowl, and let out a great plume of smoke. It lingered in wisps between us, filling the silence. Finally, he spoke again. "Your plan has failed miserably. The horde will return a day before the fleet arrives. Arthur will act foolishly, and Yavara will act in kind, and the Lowland armada will be destroyed. After that, the mob will demand vengeance, and Yavara will give them what they want. Conquest, pillaging, rape and slavery."

"She is the Dark Queen; it's what she does." I spat, "It's why I did everything in my power to stop her."

"You were planning to invade the Midlands since you were in diapers. Yavara just gifted you a reason."

"The Dark Queen is evil incarnate. That's not being gifted a reason—that's being thrown into a crisis."

"You're evil, Your Highness."

"Don't try to equate us."

"I'm not equating you and Yavara."

I cocked my head, and studied him. "You have doubts about her. Are you trying to glean something from me about her? Do you want me to regale you with stories of her glorious childhood to reassure you of her character? Fine then. When Yavara was a kid, she was a little snot who could run fast and shoot arrows. People thought it was adorable. When she was a teenager, she grew tits and an ass, and played hard-to-get with every bachelor in Bentius. Everyone wanted to fuck her. There's no great mystery to my little sister, Zander. She's an attention-whore starving for affection."

"She's more complicated than that."

"No one's complicated. People are what they want. They don't often know what they want, and that's what gives them 'depth,' but I can see right through it. You say that it doesn't matter what you want, but what you want is all that you are. That's why you're so fucking conflicted, Zander. You don't know."

"But you do?"

"No, but you're about to tell me why you're really here. Then, I will tell you what you want."

He let out a puff of smoke, and watched it form tendrils in the air between us. "My purpose was to put Alkandi's incarnation back on the throne, and so I have done it, but the curse that bound me to my purpose has not been lifted." He stroked the skull that adorned his staff, and frowned. "I knew all of Alkandi's incarnations. I knew them all intimately, and I saw a sameness with each of them. They all shared the same kind of soul—all, except for one. Yavara is nothing like Alkandi. When Alkandi attempted to merge with her, Yavara rejected her outright. I should've seen it then; they were noncompatible, but Alkandi was so enamored with the magical potential Yavara carried that she risked everything to merge with her. It nearly killed everyone involved. It was an... unnatural marriage of souls." Zander tugged at his beard, seemingly lost in his own mind. "Alkandi chooses her mothers, you see, not her incarnations. Your mother was marked before either you or Yavara were born. Alkandi didn't know who Trenaria Tiadoa was, for spirits don't have names or faces, but she knew that Trenaria's womb would carry a daughter who was kindred to her."

My heart knotted in my throat. "Zander, what did Brock say to you?"

He studied my face for a very, very long time. So excruciating was his analysis of me, that I visibly quivered beneath it. Finally, he said, "Brock told me that Alkandi picked the wrong Tiadoa princess. Now I know he was right. You, Leveria Tiadoa, are the true Dark Queen."

"Bullshit!" I hissed.

"Talking with you is like talking to an old friend. I know the cadence and notes like it's a song I've written—a duet that spans lifetimes. The voices are different from woman to woman, but the song is always the same. I wondered why I never could find that song with Yavara, but I found it so easily with you."

"I'm not Alkandi, you old fool!"

"But you were supposed to be." He said so softly, so sadly. There was no lie behind his eyes, but I could not stomach one more word of what he had to say.

"You're nothing but a bitter liar!" I screamed, as if the volume of my voice might give it more truth.

Zander shook his head. "I am no liar," he said with a raspy voice, "I cannot stomach another lie. I am just an old fool who realizes his folly once it's too late. It's always been too late with you. Every time you have risen, I have failed you." A tear ran down his cheek, "Now, there is nothing I can do. I have filled your seat with an imposter, and she is far too powerful, and I am a coward."

He wiped the tears from his eyes, and turned around, not meeting my gaze. Though he moved with the grace of a younger man, the hunch of his shoulder bespoke his true age, and the bow of his back whispered of how his spirit was broken. He opened the cell door, and closed it gently behind him. Then, he was gone.

YAVARA

I would not attend the arena today. The distinguished members of Faltia's city watch were being honored today, and though Faltia's was generally more sexually masochistic than sadistic, I had a feeling she'd be instilling some harsh military discipline directly into my sister. I'd make sure to get the mirror recording from Eva for posterity.

The coastline below me was clear on this winter morning, and I watched the snow-covered cliffs become lush temperate forests as I moved south. The cold wind became warmer, and the rough seas became calmer. It took me an hour to travel two day's maritime distance, and that was when I came upon a dense patch of fog that hugged the coastline. I stopped in the air, and watched the fog slowly work its way northward. It was immense, several miles long, encompassing the entire Lowland fleet. How many ships? It was impossible to tell. Each ship would have a Lowland mage, and these were arcane masters trained by Prestira Rasloraca herself. It would not be like my battles with the Highlanders. Though none of the Lowland magic-wielders could match me, each of them had the potential to be lethal. It would only take one mistake, one moment of recklessness. I smiled, and dropped from the sky.

A second later, I was on board the deck of a galley, staring at the dumfounded face of its captain. "Boo." I giggled.

He blinked, his mouth hanging open.

I turned on my heel, and took hold of the mage behind me, my mind ensnaring hers. The rest of the crew aboard the deck was stuck in a similar state of paralysis, all of them frozen in the tasks they'd just been doing. A mop bucket spilled, a rope was dropped, and a harpoon rolled between the ballistae. Those below deck ignorantly rowed the vessel onward, the cadence of the drum-master not breaking a moment.

"Steer your ship, Captain." I said, placing his hands on the wheel. He did so, though his bulging gaze never left mine. I let him silently navigate through the fleet as my mind wandered from ship to ship, searching for that of Prince (now King) Arthur. When I found him, I jumped overboard, dove into the sea, and shot through the water like a torpedo. A thousand feet later, I burst from the surface, and landed aboard the royal man-o-war. They were ready for me. A score of mages stood in a semicircle, pinning me to the railing. Their hands and staffs were poised and alight with magic, their eyes glowing. I put up my hands, and offered a congenial smile.

"Is the prince available for a chat?"

"The king is aware that you are here," one of the mages said. He was an older man, and by the color of his robes and the power radiating from him, I deduced that he was the head mage of the academy, Robert Usich.

"Oh. I didn't think he'd get the news after rounding the Alkandran Horn."

"When we are legion, our vision precedes us for hundreds of miles." Usich said, "We see the atrocities you commit in your capital this moment. We saw what you did to Prince Matthew. We saw what befell King Albert. You will not take one step forward. You will never see the king again."

"Will you be our intermediary then?" I asked him.

He nodded. "The king sees through my eyes now."

"And what does he have to say to me?"

"Go back to your wretched city, and prepare yourself," came Arthur's voice from the mage's mouth.

I rolled my eyes. "Arthur, be reasonable."

"You are not one for reason, Queen Yavara Alkandi."

"And you are not one for war. Didn't you once tell me that militarism was the cheapest form of power? We can talk."

"Talk has little use for those who don't listen."

"I'm listening, Your Highness."

"But I am not. Lucas Ternias betrayed us and delivered Leveria Tiadoa to you the same day that my father and brother were murdered. I know you will tell me this was all somehow a plot woven by your sister, but even as we speak, she is being tortured and raped for your people's amusement. Just like how my brother was decapitated for your people's amusement."

"You must know it's not that simple."

"The nuance is irrelevant. Your nation is a cancer, and you are the carcinogen. There is no negotiating with a disease. You simply have to cut it out."

I narrowed my eyes at Usich. "My horde will be back tomorrow night. When you sail into the Alkandran Bay, our numbers will blacken the shoreline."

"And so will their bodies."

"After I sink your fleet, my people will demand retribution for the attack. Ardeni Dreus will be dust."

"Then we are on even terms, Your Highness." Arthur hissed through Usich's mouth. "If you wish to end the war right now, by all means, take your shot."

The mages in the semicircle glowed with energy, their auras becoming so bright that their forms dimmed behind them. I did not waver, but simply pivoted my feet into a less threatening stance.

"You have two days to reconsider, Your Highness," I said, and stepped onto the railing, "I pray that you will." I launched myself into the sky.

ELENA

Mom usually wore her hair in a tight bun. It pulled her hair back to expose her forehead and high hairline, and gave the appearance that her entire face was being stretched gauntly over her bones. Today, her silvery-blonde hair flowed easily over her shoulder, framing her relaxed face beautifully. Though the lines around her eyes and lips bespoke her age, she seemed to somehow look ten years younger. Perhaps it was the secret smile she shared with me when Lady Jonias wasn't looking, or maybe it was the knowing twinkle in her blue eyes every time we connected gazes. Her mischievousness was infectious, and I felt like a snickering schoolgirl sitting across from her at the lunch table, our feet playing beneath it. Lord Feractian had been by to inform me that my meeting with his barons would be tonight, and Lord Huntiata had made a brief visit to tell me he was close to getting a mole in the city watch. Lady Jonias had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the morning, and only offered terse answers when I asked about her progress with riling-up the city's dissidents. Now, at the lunch table, she was deathly silent.

"My lady?" Mom finally asked her, "Is there something you want to say?"

Jonias looked at Mom. "Is there something that needs to be said, Lady Straltaira?"

"I don't believe so."

Lady Jonias blinked. "Lady Straltaira, I always held you in the highest respect. You were a beacon of propriety and civility for all the nobles to look up to."

Mom swallowed her food. "And I'm not now?"

Lady Jonias pursed her lips. "You've been unusually lax with your manners as of late."

Mom looked a little insulted. "My apologies for being a rude guest, my lady. Please tell me where I've erred."

"Don't concern yourself with it. It would be even ruder for me to point them out."

"I must insist."

Lady Jonias swallowed her food, and daintily blotted her mouth. "Well, for one, you didn't take your shoes off last night when entering the house. Secondly, you left some of your toiletries out on the bathroom counter. Thirdly, you forgot to close the bedroom door while you were fucking your daughter, my lady."

Mom turned a shade of red that would've made a rose blush. She might've died of mortification, had I not burst into uproarious laughter. "She was just helping me get to sleep, Lady Jonias!" I hacked, "As any good mother would!"

Jonias's face twisted. "If word gets out that the queen is FUCKING HER MOTHER—"

"It will be business as usual in the Highlands." I giggled, wiping my eyes.

Lady Jonias just stared at Mom. "Lydia Straltaira, I cannot believe you. You of all people! Your own daughter?!"

"Oh, shut up." Mother grumbled, nursing her tea to hide her face, "Like I'm going to take sexual criticism from a fucking virgin."

Now it was Jonias's turn to grow red. She huffed, guffawed, harrumphed, then stood up so quickly that her chair crashed behind her. Without another word, she bolted up the stairs, and slammed her room door behind her. Mom and I watched her go, then looked at each other, and burst into laughter.

"Do you think she'll kick us out of the house?" Mom giggled.

"She would never deny the future queen of the Highlands her hospitality." I snickered back.

Mom's expression became impish. "Well, we wouldn't want to take advantage of her hospitality, would we? Perhaps we should ask her to join us!"