THE CHILD OF THE RACES
BOOK TWO
THE QUEEN OF VAMPIRES
AS TOLD BY CHIEF HEALER ROUMLIE (LOUPOBO)
by: Amarantha Francoise Dyuaaxchs
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Vision
It is not at all difficult to have a vision, with a little human blood in your ancestry, a ball of the specialized elven fire, and the will to do so. I started the bright blue ball that was my color in my hand before transferring it to a wooden bowl carved especially for this purpose, and gazed steadily at the flame.
Trouble in the world would soon come, although not in my lifetime. I struggled to understand, but my blood was weak and old, and the details were vague. Trouble to the races, the races of the supernatural. Too many were subject to the human's expansion already. What would happen if they ever rediscovered their abilities, and it did not curb their ambition?
But it could be ameliorated, by four people and the Goddess. They fuzzed together. Only one was distinctly a separate entity, and that one was young, not yet born at the time I was viewing this. A dark one and a pale one, a herald or Revealer, and one of great power almost approaching that of the Goddess, Amano. Four people of the supernatural, saving the world from this crisis signaled first by this vision of mine, which was in its turn spurred by my approaching a time when I worried about the continued existence of all. Later, its beginning would be with a group of unnatural deaths, spaced evenly throughout the species and the space of the planet.
But what could I do, I demanded of the vision. It wavered uncertainly around in my mind, struggling to continue in the direction it was going, more and more about how terrible this disaster would be, and very little about what would actually happen. I insisted. It could not go on without my permission, so it sulkily subsided into giving me the most ridiculous set of instructions I had ever heard of.
I could obey my rulers, as I was accustomed to doing. I could give my friendship to those in need, which was a necessary part of my major occupation. I could put red into light, which only put me in mind of a painting canvas covered with blood in the sunlight. The vision also instructed me to follow the threads of politics, and to ignore the unseen for that which might be acquired, to give my knowledge but not my self, and to avoid flowers.
Perhaps visions are fruitless, frustrating endeavors? Ah, but perhaps not. They give true advise for those who know how to interpret them, and sometimes one is able to advise someone in the position of being able to act. True seers were highly valued and frequently sought out by those high on the scale of the semi-civilization we indulged in, a society of few cities, few crowded groups, and frequent avoidance of other species. I should go to see one such, if I could, but I was needed at my home for those skills only I could provide, and I was already weary from calling on too much from too little.
I could do little but guide the steps of those I might meet who had been represented in my vision, and obey the dictums placed upon me. Only a fool would disobey a vision! Disaster always followed. But if this one were to be believed, disaster would come anyway, in the worst possible form, perhaps amounting to the destruction of the world. Or of all worlds, if the tales of those who claimed to have seen these other worlds were true.
For thousands, perhaps millions of years, humans had been completely separate from the other species. The sirens were only under another government. They at least knew we existed, and the languages were only different because of the limitation of sounds possible to produce under the water. A small amount of cross- breeding far in my past of the elves with some few other species had led to my existence, and my abilities to produce the future. A much larger amount of cross-breeding of the species resulted in my cousin.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Summons
I received a summons.
When her Majesty gives a summons, no one disobeys it. I do not know why we put up with the silly, emotional woman, but she ruled a good deal too firmly for anyone to even begin to think of an uprising. No matter how unlikely it seemed, even though she was not a very caring ruler, and apparently exceptionally frivolous into the bargain, a 'giddy elven noblewoman,' as my young cousin would have called her, she was the strongest ruler we had ever had. But she was not caring in the least.
It would have been so much better for everyone if we simply let her go off with that weak half-human daughter she was always talking about, the one who somehow managed to survive her initiation two years before she should have had it. Weak indeed! If it would not have been so much of a blasphemy to say it, I would have said that her Majesty's daughter was more powerful than the queen herself.
I had only seen the half-human twice, once five years ago at her initiation and once about a year later, after she had been captive of the werepeople. Both of the times she had been with a human boy and both times the women and girls of our tribe made themselves look silly over him. He did not seem to mind, or even notice. He was completely taken up with the princess of our tribe, the Mnerecros tribe. A tribe of elven witches, if one chooses to be technical, although we usually just call ourselves elves. It is a serious insult to call an elf a witch. I had never gotten a good look at her, so I did not know why he acted that way. The first time she came here, she had also been with the two vampire princes, one of whom was now the king and our sovereign and the other was dead.
Anyway, I received a summons one night and so I had to go to the queen to find out whether she wanted a throne of Dutch elm, or truffles for supper. Either was equally likely and it was probably something even harder.
"Healer," said the black haired woman perched in the branches of the oldest and tallest pine tree, the one always reserved for the ruler of the tribe. I bowed, hiding a sigh of relief. It was not going to be something really serious or difficult, or she would have used my true name. As it was, she was only being vaguely formal with my lesser though more commonly used title. "Healer, there is someone I would like you to meet."
'Well now,' I thought, 'this is unusual.' I bowed to show that I was willing to meet whoever it was. The queen signaled and a group of giggly girls came out from behind the tree. In their center, looking thoughtful, was the human boy. He glanced at me once with his light green eyes and then resumed staring at the ground.
"Michael," said her Majesty in English, one of the human languages, "this is our healer, Roumlie. You are going to be entrusted to his especial care. Good Healer, this is Michael. His Majesty has entrusted him to us and we must be careful not to let him go near his castle until the wedding day."
"Wedding day?" I probed.
"Oh! You have not yet heard? My daughter is going to be married to the king of vampires! The boy seems to have been getting in the way. We are all going to come. Now, I expect you to make sure he behaves himself when we go. And keep him as far away from my precious Cherry as possible."
"As you wish." I bowed again and grabbed the human's hand. The girls sent wistful sighs and glances after him.
I led him into my underground house. When he just stood there after I gestured him into a chair, I was inclined to think he was an idiot and pushed him down. I brought him a piece of bread on a plate and Michael just sat there, staring at it. Uncertain what to do, I stared at him. Even an idiot knew how to eat.
"Michael," I started, then stopped. How did I get the message across without hurting his feelings? "Are you hungry?" He glanced at me, shook his head slowly and placed the plate on a table. Then he settled back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. I shrugged my shoulders and decided that he likely would not be any, or at least much, trouble to manage.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Elf
He slept in the chair, or at least I think he slept. When I tried to find what he was dreaming I got no response and no one can cut off their thoughts in their sleep. So I had to assume that he was awake. He was asleep the next morning and slept until noon. The poor thing was having nightmares. I tried to soften them, give him better dreams, but I do not think I succeeded. Michael woke with a scream and his eyes darted around the room quickly.
"Calm down," I said gently, pressing my hands against his temples. I tried to look him in the eye, but he refused to meet mine.
"Who are you?" he whispered hoarsely. I was relieved to find that he could speak, even if it was only in English, which language I did not understand very well.
"My name is Roumlie. I'm an elvish boy." I laughed to myself at that, but I did look younger than was usual to stop physically ageing.
"An elvish boy . . . I knew an elvish girl once." It was amazing how one contrasts another's flaw with one's own strengths. I tried hard not to laugh at his harsh voice. He had likely been crying and this was not his usual voice at all.
"Ah. You mean the little half-human."
"Yes. She was half-human, half-elf. Only now Baslon says she is almost entirely a vampire. Cherry says she might recover and not change at all."
"Baslon?"
"A vampire. A true vampire."
"Likely you are talking about his Majesty. Funny, I never thought of vampires as having names."
"The King of Vampires?"
"Yes, that is another name for his Majesty."
"That's Baslon."
"Your throat hurts, does it not?"
He sat up straight with his mouth open.
"Yes, it does," I answered for him, going to my cupboard and taking out various herbs and proceeding to make them into a potion. "Willow bark will take away the pain and saffron will make the medicine work directly." I glanced at him. "I will add some honey so it does not taste as bitter. Would you want that?" Michael nodded. I boiled the medicine and let it cool a few moments before giving it to him. He looked warily at the cup I handed him and made no move to swallow the mixture. "Drink it."
"Drink . . . " he paled.
"It is not blood, if that is what you are thinking," I said, probing to find out if that were what he was thinking. He felt me before I found out and shut me out. "It is good for you and will take away the pain." His fingers began slipping and I caught the cup before any of the contents could spill on the floor. I set it on the table and sighed. I needed to replenish my healing herbs. If I went out, I did not know what would happen. He might seem helpless, but as soon as my back was turned, he might slip out. And what would I say to her Majesty then? "How long are you going to stay here?" I asked.
"Don't know . . . He told Cherry I could stay for the wedding. Maybe longer."
"Look," I said, "I have to go out for a while. Will you follow me and promise by your true name not to wander off?" He gave me a blank look and I felt as though I could hit myself. Obscrond! He was a human and only had one name! "Never mind. Just stay close, all right?" He nodded his head in acceptance.
I got what herbs I needed, all the time explaining to Michael what each thing was good for and telling him how to recognize them. He was not interested in anything until I pointed out the vervain.
"And what does that do?" he asked eagerly. "Cherry never explained."
I shrugged and decided it was not likely he would poison me in my bed. "It renders most species incapable of using their magic. With the humans, I think it has no effect."
"I see." And then he was silent. He was silent until I began having trouble carrying the items, when he offered to carry them for me.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Decisions
I found the human, Michael, attentive yet distant. He learned quickly enough even though he showed a strange aversion to certain types of magic. The human would help me around the house and I taught him a few potions and medicines for illnesses. He did not consider this magic. When I offered to teach him to read minds or levitate something small he would pale and refuse. I just could not understand why he was so willing to learn herb magic, house magic, and a few other types, but would not do anything related to shedur, the magic of willpower. He had the ability growing inside him, and if he did not learn to use it and make use of it, it would eat him alive, like a cancer or whatever human diseases did that sort of thing.
Once, when he was writing and I was cleaning a staff of mine, ready to practice using it to defend myself, I had a curious thought. I looked at the part human hunched over in a chair. "Michael, do you want to go to the wedding?" I asked on that sudden thought.
He looked up from the floor with dead eyes and focused on me. "Cherry wanted me to go." His voice was no longer harsh, but deep, as if he were suppressing tears.
"You do not have to go if you do not want to."
"I don't think that's an option for me."
I glanced at him, wondering what had happened to him while he had been in the castle, what would make him so upset. "Well, if you decide you do not wish to go, just tell me. I think I can arrange it so you can stay here."
"I probably won't change my mind." He turned back to the pages in his lap.
"If you say so."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Marriage
They were married the next day. His Majesty wore solidly dark blue clothes. The princess, appearing at the end of a walk leading to a fountain, was in gold. Both wore crowns. She walked to the fountain, followed a bit too closely by her attendants. Her hair, eyes, skin, and amulet were all red. The hair was only slightly yellow, skin lighter than the other two. Her eyes were glowing and burning redder than any red I had ever before seen. The amulet that proclaimed her a person capable of working in the capacity of a priestess the goddess Amano and one dedicated to her, an iron circle the size of a child's outspread hand with one black snake and one white intertwined down the middle, glowed faintly in response.
The ceremony included the usual vows, not very difficult to hold to but binding for life, and the little princess nearly refusing to accept the terms. She was prompted when his Majesty briefly touched her neck. With a brief animal snarl she said what was expected of her. I had never known of anyone so much against their own marriage. At the end, the princess's simple coronet was exchanged for a much more elaborate golden crown, symbolizing her elevated status.
After the ceremony came the feast, with the members of different species more or less avoiding each other and the vampires spread out to prevent anyone from starting an argument or a fight.
"Michael," I said, "you need to stay as far away from the princess as possible. It would mean my life, probably, if you were seen with her."
"I won't go to any trouble to seek Cherry out, but I won't go to any trouble to stay away from her." I had to be satisfied with that. I did not know what to make him promise by, so his word was all I could have.
"If you say so. I do not particularly want to be executed." He shrugged, with no sympathy showing on his face whatsoever. Then he resumed staring at the half-human. I stepped aside to talk to another elf for a moment.
When I looked back at him, he was looking all around him, not seeming to see where the princess was. I looked quickly around and saw her walking casually toward Michael from behind. She was impudent if nothing else. I could not let them be seen together, on pain of my life.
"Michael," I hissed in his ear.
"What?"
"I would like you to come with me."
"Why?"
"Because if you will not go to any pains to avoid the half-human, I will, to keep you apart. It would rest much easier on my mind that way."
Michael followed reluctantly. I could not help but notice that we were not moving fast enough. A voice whispered inside my head, although I took pains to push it out. It said, I don't know whether I am doing this more for a remnant of my past or for a chance to irritate. You just tell my mother that I'm doing this. No matter how hard you try, I'm going to continue until it pleases me to stop. Look, the princess paused to talk with a general, I can keep it up while still paying attention to something else! And I don't even look absent minded! The voice laughed. You're beginning to look strained. No one else has even a hint of what I'm doing. You'd better be glad for my protection, because people would start asking you questions without it. The voice stopped. The girl bowed to the general and moved on toward us.
Michael stopped. He whispered something and looked as though he were about to fall. I caught him and held him upright.
"I guess," I said, "that you should sit down. I'll take my chances with execution." I lowered him to a bench and the princess instantly popped up in front of us. "Good evening, your Majesty," I said, bowing. It was best to be cautious until I found how far I could stray from the usual courtesy due to royalty.
"Not necessarily," she said, bowing back. This caught me off guard. A princess and a queen bowing to one of no noticeable rank, and not a curtsy either. A bow.
"Not necessarily what?"
"A good evening. In fact I would say it has been a very poor evening, no matter what anyone else may say."
"And why do you hold this opinion, if I may ask?" I bowed again. She raised an eyebrow at this.
"Anyone who had to marry a vampire before they themselves were a vampire would hold a similar view."
"What?" I looked at her skin closely. There was blood there, strong and healthy blood capable of a great deal.
"Yes, it is a strange condition, isn't it?"
"Yes," I agreed faintly.
"How could you recover so quickly?" Michael asked.
"It is not entirely my blood that the blood that was taken was restored with."
"What do you mean?" I asked softly.
"Baslon made me drink his blood," she told me.
"Baslon?"
"I believe you would call him . . . your Majesty."
"Ah, yes. Michael told me that."
"Good." Then she turned suddenly around. "I'll thank you not to follow me around all the time," she exclaimed, staring hatefully at the vampire behind her.
"I like to know where you are at all times," the vampire said with a little smile. The princess turned her back on him and looked very steadily away from him. "I won't go away just by your wishing me to."
"So much the worse for me."
"But, your Majesty . . . " He stopped purposely, the little smile hovering still on his face.
"Now, don't start that!" the half-human said angrily, turning back around. "It's enough that my own people call me Highness, but don't you think you aggravate me enough?"
"Yes, but now that you are my wife, it is true even for me. You're not just a princess, you are a queen." The girl looked dismayed and I felt her gathering her willpower. She swayed gently from side to side. "I don't know why," said his Majesty, "but I get the feeling that I am not going to like what you are going to do." I don't think he did and neither did I.
She swayed for several moments before any perceptible change came over her. First her dress began to tighten around her and her red hair began to cling close to her neck and back. While this was going on, her Majesty began to shrink. The red of her hair and the gold of her wedding gown intermingled and spread over her skin as her limbs fused together. By the time she had finished with her transformation, the princess was an adder instead of a young lady.
She settled herself around Michael's neck with dull purple eyes watching every movement we made. The unusual thing was that none of the others assembled took any notice of what had happened.
"Tell me, Baslon, were you right that you did not like this?" she hissed in a strange mixture of an elfin voice and that of a snake's.
"I would prefer that you tell me what you are going to do before you do it," he said. "You gave me quite a shock."
"Maybe you would have preferred I crawled up you, then."
"Your Majesty?" I wanted to question her about how she had managed the transformation, but could not get the wording quite right.
"Yes?" I could not answer her. "Hold out your hand," she ordered. I did so and she wrapped herself around my arm, sliding to my shoulders. "Be still, young one." I realized I was shivering. "Or perhaps not so young." The snake's head was suddenly before my eyes. "Older than me, at any rate."
"Yes, your Majesty." It seemed the right thing to say, somehow. The princess slid back to the ground and became a girl again.
"I'll apologize to all of you gentlemen for my little performance." She looked directly at his Majesty. "Stay here. I prefer to be by myself." I realized then her eyes were the same unusual color of mine, the strange purple that was usually associated with sirens, and so were her hair and certain features for that matter. I did not think we were related. The princess turned around with a contemptuous toss of her head.
I glanced at the human and the vampire. Their eyes were throwing daggers at each other and I could not tell what kept the vampire from killing Michael then and there. Probably his Majesty's strength was what prevented Michael.
"If you will excuse me," I began, slipping away.
"Only providing you stay away from her," hissed the king of the vampires, turning his attention to me.
"Surely you do not think . . . ." I began to protest.
"Are you resisting me then, witch?" His Majesty's eyes met mine, commanding.
I felt my back go stiff with fury at the insult, but I averted my eyes hastily. "No, your Majesty."
"You will obey me, then?"
"I will do as you command."
"Then take the servant boy with you."
Michael's eyes lit up. I tried to stop him from saying what he had in mind. "If Cherry heard you, you wouldn't like the results."
"You will stay away from her Majesty," the other hissed threateningly.
"I don't think you'll do anything to stop me. It might look bad for you to be seen fighting with her." His Majesty suddenly turned and stormed away. Michael's face was carefully devoid of any feeling.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Interruption
Your Majesty honors my household," I said, three days before the Harvest Festival.
"I would like to speak with Michael."
I shifted uneasily. "He is busy and I do not think he recognizes you as a sovereign. He might not come."
"Then I'll wait until he does."
"I will tell him that, sir."
I hurried along the tunnel that served as a main entrance to my tree. Michael was still writing. He was always writing, with an insistence that made me think he was trying to keep from thinking. Whatever had happened while he had been a prisoner in the castle, I did not wish to know.
"Michael."
He finished the sentence before looking up. "Yes?"
"His Majesty is here to see you."
"Baslon?"
"Who . . . yes."
"Then I'd better see what he wants. It wouldn't do to have you beheaded." He left the same way I had came, coming back a few minutes later, hiding something under his shirt. I decided not to ask what it was.
The next day I came back with a rabbit for supper and found the boy with a knife poised over his heart.
"Michael!"
He guiltily shoved the knife behind his back.
"If the vampire wants you dead, why does he not kill you himself?" I demanded.
"Why would Baslon want me dead?" he shot back.
"Perhaps because his wife is in love with you!"
He dropped the knife at that, looking around nervously. "Cherry's never been in love with anyone in her life."
"If that is true, then why did she risk both of our lives at the wedding by seeking you out?"
"Because she knew it would provoke Baslon. She told me herself that she enjoyed provoking those who think they have power over her. She gave her mother and Baslon as examples."
"Indeed?" I sneered. "Perhaps you would like to explain why her Majesty was so reluctant to get married."
"She was practically forced into it."
"Why did she choose you specifically to crawl up and then bring attention to it?"
"If anyone even suggested Cherry was in love with someone in her hearing, that person would have all their arms and legs broken."
I glared at him. He made a move to pick up the knife again. In desperation, I gathered all my willpower and sent it directly at Michael's mind, demanding it give up its secrets. He fell to his knees, holding his head between his hands. I had to give him credit, for he did not cry out.
"She danced with you, she practically risked her life for you and you still say she does not love you?"
"She's not in love with me," he said without looking at me, "and if she ever fell in love with someone, she'd slit her throat the next day."
"Be quiet. And if you are going to be such a fool, then you deserve to commit suicide." I turned my back on him and stormed away.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Death
The next day he was still alive, but had pulled his cloak so tightly around him that no comments could pass through. After prodding him a bit and taking away the jeweled dagger his Majesty had given him and my own plain one, the only knives in the house, I left for the Harvest celebration.
It was usually noisy and crowded, with elves from many tribes attending, so I paid no attention to it. I looked at the many items on display, listened to the musicians, watched the tumblers and decided that this Harvest Festival would turn out to be no different from any others. I wandered through the trees, attempting to find one that was void of any performers or peddlers.
"Hello, Roumlie."
I jumped. I had sensed no one beside me or behind me, as I should have at that distance. I nodded my head respectfully. "Good day, your Majesty."
"Please," she said in a pained voice, "I hate titles."
I did not dare voice my thoughts.
"Did Michael tell you where we first met?"
I decided that if she would just read everything I thought, I might as well not think.
"You might as well find an answer to my question."
I searched the memories I had obtained from Michael. It had been at a peasant's school in England. Her Majesty had been posing as a peasant and Michael had simply been getting better acquainted with the locals.
"Close enough," she commented. "I wonder if you would kindly take me to the boy? There are too many minds here for me to find him."
"Yes, your . . . " She gave me a look. "Ma'am," I finished.
I led her through the woods and followed her into my house.
"Oh, dear," she muttered, shaking her head. "No wonder I couldn't locate him." She stepped aside to let me see. As far as I could tell, there was no heartbeat. Michael was dead.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Funeral
It is rather obvious. He wanted to die enough. For the first twelve years of his life, he nearly always got what he wanted. For the last five, he almost always didn't. He wanted not just to die, but to have what he wanted." She tapped her head. "I think my close proximity for such an extended period of time may have caused him to be rather touched in the head."
"So why did he kill himself?"
"He didn't, not consciously. It took Baslon's little suggestion and gift to do it. It was a very clever trick, but I think Michael may be glad he's dead. It was probably all for the best. He wouldn't have lived long anyway."
"What should I do now?"
"Give him a Mnerecros funeral and get on with your life as best you can. If there is one thing I learned from the mice, it's that no matter what you think, no one's death affects the entire universe. Not even the Gods' deaths."
I looked sadly upon the remains of the human. Then I looked at her Majesty's thoughtful face.
"I used to have a couple dozen mice die each year. I learned not to cry about it, because it was irritating crying for three mice at the same time and trying to give them all their fair share of mourning." She smiled, nodded and left.
The funeral was the next day. He had a Mnerecros funeral, because no one could figure out a way to give him a Christian one. I remained in seclusion for the rest of the Harvest Festival.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Vampire
Hello, Roumlie," said the queen of vampires cheerfully, meeting me just outside my house.
"Good day, Your . . . "
She made a queer sound in her throat. "Stop that, or I'll think of something to do to you. Something you won't like."
I searched quickly for a title that her Majesty would accept and would not get me in trouble with any who happened to be listening. "As you wish, sa Winea."
"I'll leave it at that," she said with pinched lips. "You might start calling me by my true name, if I press it."
"Sa Winea, if I did that, I would be committing sacrilege."
"I think you might have a problem, although it would be worse if you were human."
"What is this problem, sa Win . . . "
"It's Michael," she said hurriedly, lapsing into English. "The wounds healed, but it happened quite recently."
"Mirange! You don't mean he'll do that, do you?"
"Yes. I forgot about it and I don't think he remembered either. It might take some time before we hear a report of any going on of the sort."
"His Majesty remembered. He suggested it and gave him a dagger."
"So he'll be at the castle. I could get you in. Can you do a shielding spell?"
"No."
"Then I'll do it for you. Make sure you take the proper precautions. Meet me outside the gates tomorrow at dawn."
"Outside the gates, tomorrow at dawn," I repeated.
"Hopefully Baslon won't realize I've been gone."
"Fare thee well, sa Winea."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Searching
Her Majesty levitated me over the lowest part of the wall, which unnerved me, because not many could levitate and fewer still with such ease.
"The door's open, it always is now. Baslon says the only way to trust me is to test me." That came out as a sneer, and her hand brushed over the side of her neck.
"And you feel the same way about me?"
"No, I know I can trust you. You just look through the place. See if you can find where Michael is and give him peace. Close your eyes. I want to try something."
I closed them and opened them according to her command. I was distinctly aware that something was wrong with my substance.
"Don't bother trying to find yourself. You don't really exist. No one will be able to tell you are there except the person who set the spell. That's why it's always best to put the spell on yourself."
I tried to nod, but I could not find a head to do it with.
"Good. Follow me until I tell you to separate from me."
She waited until I had figured out how to move and then set out rapidly through the halls. She stopped in front of a door.
"Come here at about sundown. Just go in. I think Baslon may say something on the subject we are researching. And cousin, if you decide to get lost, I won't be able to look for you until tomorrow at this time." She slipped inside the room, leaving me stunned. A cousin! I knew I wasn't related to Queen Vrenkley, but my grandfather had once been with a siren . . .
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Majesty
I struggled through the house. I say struggle, because it was difficult to move in the direction I wanted to in this state. Drifting around, I found nothing. The vampires' sleeping place must have been in a secret room. I finally drifted back to the door and floated through it. Her Majesty looked straight at me for a minute or so to show me she knew where I was before returning to her book.
With sundown came a knock on the door.
"Good day, Baslon," she said, marking her place.
His lips twitched in amusement. "What a strange expression."
"I figure that if I press it, you will lose your temper."
"I do not think I will loose my temper around you any more."
"You mean because Michael is gone? The elves brought me news. It seems that your present was unnecessary."
"Yes, it seems that way." His face darkened briefly. Then it changed to surprise. "You are not angry with me?"
"No, why should I be? I see death in a very mediocre manner. If that is the right word. It doesn't matter when someone dies, because I can always call their spirits up."
"You speak lightly of that which weighs upon the soul."
"Yes; light was the word I wanted. And I believe that it is life that weighs upon you so. You are not dead. A vampire may be considered a dead creature, but the true vampire is completely alive."
"You have strange ideas."
"Thank you." She ducked her head. "I am a strange person."
His Majesty looked at her curiously and moved around her slowly to a chair that was some space away. "You certainly are. I get the feeling that you could have escaped any time you wanted to, with the boy. Why on earth did you stay?"
"Because it's so much easier to confuse vampires than humans without getting burnt at the stake. It wasn't very pleasant having a reward out for my capture."
"When and why did that happen?"
Her Majesty's face grew even redder than it already was. "I was just three. It wasn't my fault," she mumbled.
"Something tells me that it was rather embarrassing for you," said the vampire with a sly smile.
"I'd rather not talk about it."
"I'm your husband. Would you keep secrets from me?"
The half-human's chair fell over with a crash as she stood up. "If there is one thing I will not talk about it is that." The king of vampires, for whom it was possible to order a garrison of nearly anything to halt with a wave of his hand, began scooting back nervously.
"Please, Cherry, I won't say or do anything if that's what you want me to do."
"Then be quiet. I was in the middle of a chapter." She tucked her nose back in the book.
The vampire looked miserably at her. "Would you like to see Michael?"
"I don't mind. I thought you were jealous of him?"
His Majesty turned red. "I was."
"You used to be? I wonder what he said about me."
The vampire turned redder. "Nothing."
"Nothing? I would think you would have questioned him about me the most, not the least."
"My Lady, why would I question the dead?"
"Don't evade my questions."
The vampire began to fidget in his seat.
"Never mind. He probably would have done it by himself, without help from you, anyway."
"You are very kind."
"I am most definitely not kind," she said with force. "And if you, sa Wano," she sneered the title like an insult, "think I am, you are in sore need of a lesson."
"You were in love with Michael, weren't you?"
"No." This came too curtly for his Majesty to cope with, so he left the room. Her Majesty picked up her book again and began reading with a speed too great for reality.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Names
Your Majesty?" I tried to say, but could not get even a breath of air to move.
"What." I was rather shocked at the anger behind the word.
"You can hear me?"
"Perfectly well." She glared at me for a moment. I stared at the space where my feet would be. "I suppose you want your substance back."
"I would be most grateful."
She barked a laugh. "You need no court formality with me, Roumlie. I learned humility of a sort from the river."
"The river?"
"Do you know how humans test for witches?"
I flushed. Witch was the informal term for elf and considered a grave insult among the people of my tribe. I saw myself come back into reality and felt the force of gravity with some relief.
"Humans, at least Christians, think witches are humans who sold their souls to what they call 'the devil'. That basically includes all non-Christians. Christians are very orthodox in such matters. In most matters."
"You seem to know a great deal about this."
"Ha! My father was Christian. I grew up among Christians. I would be surprised if I did not know at least something of the sort. I almost didn't know about my heritage. Luckily Mother stayed around long enough to teach me. And it's lucky that Father never read the books she left me. He didn't know Greek." She laughed as though this were some fabulous joke.
"Ah . . . Your . . . I mean, sa Winea, do you think that Michael is really in the castle?"
"You seem to be having trouble with titles, Roumlie. Call me Cherry and get it over with."
"It is not a common name," I protested.
"I am an unusual person," she answered.
"You seem to be repeating yourself," I said.
"If I phrased it as a royal command, would you do it?"
"Why do you not like being called 'Your Majesty?'" I asked, confused.
"Because you would absolutely never call me 'Your Highness,' since it would send Baslon and your sense of morality into apoplectic fits."
"Then why . . . "
She interrupted almost immediately. "Because my mother is not dead yet and I will never, never, never admit to being married to any man."
"That is to say," I translated to make sure I had it right, "that you don't accept the marriage as legal?"
"Let's just say I was Christian on the thirtieth of Autumn." She paused. "No, if I were a Christian then, it would be the twenty-first of October. That should be right." I felt her daring me to disagree. I kept a respectful silence and prayed that Obscrond, Mirange, and Amano would keep me whole for the duration of the time that I was to know the reluctant queen. I had a feeling that she could be very destructive at times. "What about Michael?"
"I have not seen him."
She sent me back to the camp just before the lunch hour came.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Titles
Hello, Roumlie!" she called down from the top of the wall. She was still wearing that strange white shirt and black trousers, which I could never figure out what they were made of. It rather startled me to see her at the top of the wall, swinging her legs and acting as if it were a fine summer's day instead of early winter, just before the snow began falling.
"Hello!" I shouted up to her.
"Hello what?"
I sucked in my breath, not sure what game her Majesty was playing with me. "Hello . . . Cherry?" I yelled tentatively.
"Good boy!" she said, laughing. "Come on up!" I felt myself being lifted and set gently on the wall. A human might have lost his balance, but I was an elf and used to such things. "Here." She handed me a sheaf.
"What is this?"
"It's a bunch of maps of the house. They were in the library." She glanced down the wall behind her, gathered herself up and jumped, landing lightly on her heels. I closed my eyes, feeling dizzy. It was a good seventy feet at the least to the ground and as far as I knew, she hadn't used any willpower to soften her fall. I crawled down the wall, head first, to keep my emotions under cover.
"Your Majesty, how did you do that?"
She closed her eyes. "My name is Cherry."
"But how?"
She bit her lip and glared at me. "Let's just say for the moment that Eve crossbred with a kangaroo."
"What?"
She was already walking towards the door.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Crossing
Sa winea?" I asked, trotting at her side down one of the long halls.
"A vampire could do it," she snapped at me. "So could Michael, now, no matter how weak he was before."
"But . . . "
"So I am not a vampire," she said, stopping and crossing her arms over her chest. "I am not a vampire, but I have been in a vampires home. For quite some time, actually. And I have been bitten. And healed, so I am no longer weak. Therefore, I am part vampire. And maybe have let go of a portion of my human and elven blood to make room for this. That would mean that I am one-third human, one-third elf and one-third vampire. Or it might vary somewhat in the distribution. Wouldn't it make sense for me to have acquired at least some of the abilities of the vampires?" She looked straight at me, reached out and ran one finger down the side of my neck. I shivered. "It may happen that I also feed like a vampire."
My hand flew instinctively to my neck and she laughed. I decided not to ask any more questions if I could help it. Unfortunately, I couldn't help it.
"Sa winea?"
"My name," she began again, "is Cherry."
"I apologize. But if we do find Michael, what do we do?"
"What do you think those are for?" She started her quick walk again, gesturing to the spikes of wood I held in my hand.
"Oh."
"Yes. Oh." She glanced at me. "I suggest you stand back when we find him. The blood might splatter." I choked. She picked up the pace and I had to begin running.
"Cherry?" I swallowed quickly.
"What?" She looked at me. "You look as if you were expecting me to hit you," she commented.
"What time is it?"
"Nearly dusk, I'd say."
"Wouldn't it be best for me to go now?"
"Are you afraid of Baslon? I suppose you would be. Here." She waved her hand and I stumbled into that state of non-existence.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Irritation
A knock on the door. "Cherry?"
She looked up from her book. "What now?"
"How are you feeling tonight?"
I heard a low growl deep in her throat. "Baslon, go away." Her voice was tight.
"But I am . . . "
"I don't want to hear any logic about your being my husband," she cut in, scowling. "That marriage was one of the most terrible experiences of my life. And you don't have any claims on me."
"Of course, your Majesty."
She hissed at him and levitated her chair around so her back was to him.
"Cherry, if I apologized, would you look at me?"
"You're always apologizing and it doesn't seem to make much difference." Her voice was muffled.
"Then I apologize."
"Apology accepted."
"You're strange."
"I'm not susceptible to flattery."
"Cherry, I wasn't . . . "
"Don't bother explaining anything. I'm going to retreat to the mind of a three year old for a moment."
"What?"
"Be quiet," she snapped irritably.
"Cherry."
She didn't answer.
"Cherry?" His Majesty reached out to touch her arm.
She didn't answer or move. His Majesty sighed, kissed her cheek, and left the room.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Humans
Cherry?" I said hesitantly, in elven, wishing I could hear my voice.
"Are you still here?"
"Yes, your . . . I mean, Cherry."
She made a queer sound deep in her throat. "What did you want to ask me?"
"Are you sure we have to kill Michael?"
"No, we don't. He's already dead."
"I mean, I don't think I could . . . ah . . . " I bit my lip, trying to get the message across properly.
"I don't know of any other way to do it. I couldn't. Unless, of course . . . " She stopped, with a curious smile on her face. "Let me see that." She reached out and grabbed at the air beside me, about where my hand would be. When she pulled back, there was a wooden knife in her hand. I jumped. She examined it carefully. "I don't know how to use a knife, but if I could be taught, I might be able to relieve you of your duty." She raised an eyebrow in question at me.
"Sure, why not? I thought you'd know how to throw a knife."
"That's because all elves are taught how before their sixth year. I was raised among humans." Her lip curled slightly in a sneer. "They don't think girls should be allowed to use or even possess weapons."
"That's . . . abominable."
"Indeed. I haven't had a chance to learn, so if you could teach me?"
"Yes, your Majesty," I said automatically, bowing.
"We're cousins, Roumlie. Stop calling me your Majesty."
"Yes, cousin."
She stared at me a moment, then started to laugh.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Teaching
She was an adept student, but then, I supposed she was adept in everything she tried. I didn't have to even take the time to teach her how to stand. Her explanation was having watched the guards practice. I did have to correct her on how to hold the knife and how to step forward.
After a few days, I figured out that she learned by demonstration and once she learned something, she wouldn't forget. So I demonstrated my abilities and then surveyed her copying me. It was nearly perfect.
It was strange. I had noticed that most males, of all races, stopped short and gawked at her when she came near them, but I seemed to be immune to it. I felt more like her brother than anything else. But I could see what everyone else admired about her so much. She was beautiful and active and childish. She had an almost completely solemn face, with a hint of mischief lurking in the background that never left. Her face was round and thin both, her eyes were large and prominent, with their color being a light lavender, but not tilted, as was the way with most elves. Cherry had a way of smiling that only expressed happiness and mischief. She couldn't smile sadly, or angrily, or dreamily, or any other way. She had a very ruddy complexion that seemed to fit her name well. A person who didn't know better would have thought she was sunburned. Her height was about that of a laurustinus tree, which would be about six feet English measurement. And within the space of two months, she was a better knife thrower and stronger stabber than I was. Not that I was that good in the first place, since I had never won a contest, but I was probably better than most humans who were trained in it. She seemed to enjoy it and take an unnatural glee in slicing the cloth dummies up. It made me rather uneasy.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Finding
I was still required to find where Michael slept. I moved through the house in that strange state which her Majesty claimed made me safe. Sometimes I even went so far as to move through the walls, but that really unnerved me.
Once, when I came back to report to her Majesty, she took one look at where I should have been and demanded to know where the armory was. I had only just found it that day.
"Your Majesty," I started hastily, "how . . . "
"Never mind that," she said, waving it away. "I didn't know this castle even had an armory. Where is it?"
I gave her a complicated set of directions that I had used to get there, including the walls I actually had gone through. She frowned.
"That would be . . . just around the corner from the smaller doorway in the second northern most tower. Correct?"
"I don't know."
"I'll just assume that I am, then."
"'You shouldn't assume things without something to back your assumption up,'" I quoted her own words.
"I'm backing it up with your own words. 'Down the hall from a small dining room and up a flight of stairs.' There's only one small dining room in this entire castle anywhere near stairs."
"Oh."
"Well, I guess I'm going to make Baslon search for me tonight."
"I don't quite follow that logic."
"He won't know I'm in the armory unless I leave a note, and I won't do that."
"It's dangerous to displease a vampire, your Majesty."
"Stop calling me that."
"Yes, ma'am."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Blacksmith
She wasn't a very good blacksmith, but knew the fundamentals of it, and turned out a fairly good knife before nightfall and kept on working after. I had a feeling that she wouldn't have made me help her even if I had substance. While she was working, her Majesty hummed to herself in a peculiar way that made my mind fog over in a way that happened when I was talking with sirens.
"Roumlie, do you think you could find my mother's family tree?" she asked abruptly without turning around. She had just finished another knife and was heating a larger piece of metal for something else.
I would have blinked with surprise if I had eyelids. "I don't know," I tried to say. It was awkward having someone else hear me when I couldn't hear myself.
"Try for me, please. I seem to be acting unusually like a phantom recently." She hesitated. "And try not to let my mother find out too much of what I've been doing."
There wasn't much I could say to that without insulting her, since I agreed. Phantoms were the offspring of an angel and a poltergeist, the only type of cross-breed with its own name, since there were so many such unions. Phantoms were pretty much universally pitied, with the possible exception of humans, because they were insane and completely unreliable, with strong magic, but not very intelligent. The thought of an intelligent phantom would send shivers up any elf's spine. A phantom could rearrange the happenings of the past, a cross between the poltergeist's abilities to travel through time and the angel's magic to change happenings to suit themselves, but was often causing paradox. They couldn't fly like the angel, though, or make themselves invisible like the poltergeist. At least they didn't do anything much, and didn't purposefully make mischief, like the poltergeists. Besides, no one knew how to kill them except the phantoms themselves, and their parents, who would never tell because they could be killed the same way.
"Do you think the angels are being deliberately blind?" she mused. Angels weren't the kind to let anyone be harmed.
Cherry dragged the completed, yet still hot, piece of metal across the anvil and waved it where I was standing, or floating. I wasn't entirely certain that if I were to reform just then I would be touching the ground. Having that sword waving around me sent more discomfort racing through me. If her Majesty decided to have me reform just then, I would be dead.
The door to the smithy opened, and a vampire looked in. She spotted her Majesty, swept a curtsy, and murmured something about his Majesty wondering where she was.
"Report me then," said Cherry sourly, taking the sword and dipping it into the oil. As soon as the door closed, she snatched up one of the knives and a piece of wood and started scraping away at it steadily until the door opened again.
When it did, the block was starting to resemble a knife blade, and she almost set the wood aside, but instead rotated it so the point she had been carving faced her.
"Cherry, what are you doing in here?" the vampire asked.
Cherry hesitated only a moment before reaching to a space beside her where nothing was, and then throwing an elaborately worked copper necklace at her husband. "Seeing if reading is good instruction. I think it worked out fairly well."
His Majesty turned the ornament over in his hands before looking up. "This is a very good piece of work."
Her returning look was faintly ironic. "It's not necessarily my fault."
He blinked. "Why must you always make compliments seem like insults and insults seem like compliments?"
Her grin lit her face. "It's my nature."
His Majesty blanched. I could understand his unease at that remark. It was also a trait of phantoms, and phantoms were often excused by saying, 'It is just their nature.' He took a deep breath. "Let's go for a horse ride."
Her grin widened. "I'll ride bareback."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Gift
The large white royal Andalusian stallion tethered outside the stable tossed his head uneasily when their Majesties approached. I do not think he knew or even suspected there was a third person with them. The stallion was definitely nervous about the vampire. His Majesty wrestled with the horse for several minutes after untying it before the horse settled down.
"What do you think of him?" he asked at last.
Cherry's violet eyes were wide as she contemplated the horse. It was about twenty hands high at the withers, twenty hands from tail to withers, and twenty-three hands from withers to nose. Then she gave herself a shake and ran her hands over the stallion's grey legs and gleaming coat. Finally she turned back to his Majesty and said reluctantly, "He's beautiful. What kind of horse is he, and what is his name?"
"He's a royal Andalusian, and he doesn't have a name. He's only about four or five." His Majesty's eyes were anxious.
Her Majesty turned away to check the stallion's teeth. I noticed she handled him carefully, unlike the way she handled most supernatural. "Four."
"But anyway, you get to name him."
A wicked grin appeared on her face. "In honor of the most foolish of the races, then. His name is Human, and I hope he won't take too much offense at it."
"I'm sure he won't," said his Majesty solemnly.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Change
It was probably the best present he could have given her. Cherry rode that stallion all over the considerable castle grounds bareback, and had long, one-sided conversations with him. Then I found she had been working on something when no one else was around, something that made me very uneasy.
"Hello, Roumlie!" she hailed me.
"Hello, Cherry," I said, shifting. I was never very comfortable addressing her by name.
She beamed at me. Something had happened that she enjoyed, which didn't necessarily mean I would like it. "Watch. Tell me if it is not just an illusion." Her lips set, and her eyes half closed in concentration. Her form wavered, and vanished, and then there was a horse of almost exactly the same size as Human. Unlike the stallion, though, this horse was white with a pink mane and tail, cut short like Cherry's hair. She tossed her head and neighed, and Human whinnied back. They both turned to look at me.
"Very nice," I managed, groping for the proper compliment. "You hardly showed any strain at all." Abruptly she was back to her own shape.
"It is difficult to keep the shape this way." She laughed, and I joined her uneasily. "I have to hold on to it. The change may be easier the other way, but easier doesn't mean better. This way the form doesn't have to be perfect in my head to change, and my clothes don't blend into me. There were probably mistakes the other way. But still, the colors reminded me of something." Her head cocked to one side thoughtfully as she brought some sugar out of her pocket and held her hand out to Human. The stallion accepted eagerly.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Diplomacy
Your Majesty," I addressed my queen with a tightly controlled bow, irritably waiting to be given permission to look up. I had a headache from all this worrying, and had not had the time to take care of it. I couldn't feel anything when I was ethereal, which was just as well.
"Yes, Roumlie?" she asked.
I shifted my feet as I straightened, looking up into the elf woman sitting amidst the branches of the ancient tree. I would be walking on pretty thin ice, here, trying to obey the commands of both rulers, both mother and daughter. "Your daughter, the queen of the vampires and of all supernatural, has instructed me to obtain her family tree. Queen Cherry expressed a desire to see her heritage."
"Ah, my daughter wants to know her heritage?" She snapped her fingers, and another elf appeared with a bow. "Tell Archivist Lafenefal to bring a copy of my family histories, and send someone to find out about that human's background, if you can't find one already made.
"Yes, your Majesty," said the other elf, bowing again. He left the vicinity of the old, giant pine tree that served as a throne for the rulers of Mnerecros. Our tribe wasn't exactly the most powerful, but it had the most spiritual power, and had the best location, and could therefore order the Silenti tribe, the most powerful elf tribe, if necessary.
"Now, young Roumlie, tell me how my daughter was when you last saw her."
I winced internally, took a deep breath, and prepared to lie.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Family
Her Majesty was probing rather deeply into the technicalities of your marriage," I said defensively, my voice hoarse with fear. Cherry's eyes were glowing softly, almost red. The remains of an upholstered chair lay at my feet, and Cherry was sitting in another one. She seemed to have recovered her composure quickly, and was far more intimidating with a quiet note of command in her voice and relaxed pose than the furious, hysterical woman who had seemed on the brink of strangling herself with her screams. She was still angry, though, as her eyes showed clearly. "I had to answer either the truth, or what I believe is the truth, or tell your mother what she wanted to know."
"I do not want anyone to even assume that I might hold any affection for Baslon," Cherry quietly stated, "because even the most indecisive rumors have a way of reaching the ears of the person in authority. If Baslon becomes overconfident, I might kill him. Or I might try to kill him, and have him kill me instead."
"Uh . . . yes, of course. I apologize for any inconvenience I might have caused you, and I hope you will forgive me for any and all trouble which might stem from my indiscretion."
Cherry suddenly looked surprised. "I wasn't delivering an ultimatum, Roumlie." Her voice lost its note of authority and became somewhat more childish. She sat forward in her chair, looking almost impatient. The red in her eyes dissipated back into violet. A small, suppressed smile appeared on her face. Before I could blink an eye, several breaths of air caressed my face and there were several daggers protruding out of the wall behind me. I closed my eyes, feeling sick at my stomach.
"Please don't do that, Cherry," I whispered. She laughed delightedly.
"I knew you'd get there eventually. You're calling me by my first name even when you're not thinking about it! Good lad."
"I'm glad you're pleased," I said sarcastically. "Aren't you going to look at that?" I pointed at the packet of paper on the queen's lap. There were several square yards used in making up the family tree of the queen of the elves, and another for her Majesty's father.
"Of course." She opened the first one, murmuring to herself. "I've never met any of these. It's pretty much everyone. Look." She handed the paper to me and I took it.
Once I got the large sheet under control I saw that there was a lot of cross work and reorganization, but the gist of it was that the queen of the Cirala elves was half elf with small amounts of fairy, sprite, gnome, leprechaun, nymph, wraith, specter, imp, demon, goblin and devil mixed in. Her ancestors must have led pretty interesting lives.
Cherry was looking at the second sheet of paper with a pleased smile on her face. "I found it," she told me. "This is much less complicated. I'm one quarter phantom, and barely human at all. Only one thirty-second. And an eighth siren. Peculiar. I wonder why I didn't realize I had a siren's blood?"
"Excuse me?" I said, not looking up from the paper I was folding.
"Would you like me to sing for you?"
I looked up now, alarmed. "I don't really . . . I mean . . ."
"I will, then." She grinned at me mischievously, then began a common tune of a somewhat religious nature.
"Elle crat samway ifreo
"Alan Amano i Mirange,
"Sa winea frayd,
"Il Wano, il Obscrond,
"Shamun cro Winea co."
When she finished the first stanza she stopped. I stood still for a few moments breaking out of the trance she had woven around me. Then I sat down hard in a chair, breathing strenuously and holding my head between my hands.
"Please . . . Please your Majesty . . . Please Cherry, don't."
She frowned and nodded. "I suppose it . . . never mind. Wait, Guldfornialan, that must be . . . Excuse me." She disappeared into another room, returning after several moments with a color picture of a red and gold adder on a black and white background, which she displayed to me. "My great-grandmother's sign. Wind-Elan, my great-grandfather, was half dwarf and a quarter human and giant. May I see that?" She reached for her mother's family tree and unfolded it again, running her finger along the lines. "Here, here, here, here. I have no vampire relatives, no were relatives and no fresh-water siren relatives. My blood has been exchanged with vampires and weres. The only species I am not related to are the freshwater sirens, and they are close enough to salt-water sirens for me. I'm related to all the species! There has to be a mistake somewhere. Do you think you can find it?" She thrust both papers at me. I sighed and spread them out on the floor for easier maneuverability.
She was right. Her Majesty had relatives among each species of supernatural with the exception of vampires, weres, and fresh-water sirens. "Sorry, Cherry, but I don't see anything. You're related to everyone." She glared at me. I thought I knew better than to be afraid. I had a feeling that there wasn't anything to be afraid of unless she was angry. Angry or careless. So I bantered. "You might be better off hiding most of these." I stabbed at the documents. "And practicing any magic you know exists to any of these. For instance, the angels . . . Or is that what you've been doing to me?" The angels second most prominent ability was make themselves imperceptible to any. The most prominent is to travel in both directions through the dimension of time.
She looked startled. "Why, yes, I suppose so. I'd always taken that one for granted, never mind that Mother couldn't do it. You see, she wasn't an angel, cousin. Does it say on there how we're related?"
I checked the papers, not finding my name, but another I recognized. "A relative of mine was your great-grandmother's sister. Both are sirens."
"Can you sing, Roumlie?"
I flushed, mumbled something that I did not recognize, and drew her attention back to the papers. "Your ancestry isn't crossed anywhere," I said. "Nothing in your mother's background is in your father's, and vice versa. It was pure on both sides until it joined your line, and then nothing was ever added again. It could be coincidental with your father, but just look at how complicated your mother's is!"
Cherry leaned forward, intrigued. "You're right," she said in wonderment. "What do you make of this?"
"It's as if . . . forgive me for my impertinence . . . "
"Forgiven," she said promptly.
"It's as if someone was specifically raising your mother's line, step by step, until either someone made a mistake or that someone realized that the balance would be too unequal, when your mother married your father. Someone wants a person with the blood of all the supernatural in them, and the day you gain fresh-water siren's blood is the day when this plan of theirs is fulfilled. And royalty in addition. Wouldn't it seem likely that a lot more of these are royalty than just your mother and . . . remember you forgave my impertinence!" She nodded impatiently. I felt a tentative poke at my mind and shook my head. Not even Cherry could keep me from feeling when she tried to read my mind. "More are royalty than your mother and your husband, probably. You'll be queen of at least some of the elves, and already of the vampires, so wouldn't it make sense to be in all of them?"
She grimaced. "But I hate politics! And that would mean that the gods have been treating my ancestors like brood mares and prize stallions! I may have a bone to pick with them, if that's the case."
"Excuse me?"
"It's just a human expression. Go on."
"It would make sense that your family has been used that way, and someone thinks that someday your blood will be exchanged for fresh-water siren's. Someone probably intends to use you to rule the world, or something along those lines."
"If the gods did it, you'd think they would have been a little more careful with my personality. If they want me to be their political regent on Tien, they should have made me want to, or at least not hate it! It could have been someone else, though. Someone who can't affect personality. I don't know who it could be."
"Whoever, but there is a chance you may need to fight to keep your personality." Then my mind showed me a whole new side to what I had just said.
"What is it?" Cherry asked.
"What is what?" I whispered.
"Roumlie, your face has just gone whiter than a vampire's. Even a phantom could tell you're scared. Even a human could. What is it?"
"Couldn't the Lord of Light, the present ruler of the supernatural's father, have managed all that?" I suggested delicately. I saw her eyes flicker. Yes, he could have. "He had been alive more than long enough to manage it," I said. "He must have arranged your kidnapping by the weres and his son. Perhaps he contemplated another by the fresh-water sirens, but died too soon. And if you become the most powerful being, but not powerful enough to break from his Majesty's strong hold on you, then his Majesty will in turn be strongest, because he controls you. He could have intended himself to kidnap you, but his son took you first . . . remember you forgave me!" My voice had been steadily rising and speeding up. This came as a shout.
"I remember," she snapped, but her eyes had started glowing again, and I didn't think she would be kept by that if she couldn't recall it to memory. With a visible effort, she assumed the appearance of relaxation. "I think I'm glad I was raised a human," she said. "It gives me an excuse. And no one will hold it against me if I do not obey the king of England. What time is it?"
I went to the nearest window and pulled back the curtain. Cherry's rooms were on the west side of the castle, and all her windows faced that direction. The sun was closer to setting than I had thought. "It's late. Do you want me to search or should I leave?" She answered my question by depriving me of my substance.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Control
His Majesty entered the room a few days later, seeming to be trying to control his fury. Even in the state I was in, which he could not affect, I cowered back. Cherry barely looked up from her book, then made a comment in a language I didn't recognize. His Majesty took a deep breath.
"I don't know Greek," he said shortly.
"Pity." She turned the page. "What do you think of . . . " She added something else in the same language.
"Please don't use that language." He sat down in a chair. Cherry smiled slightly.
"Was the Sirii ambassador really that trying?" She couldn't quite keep the smugness out of her voice. Baslon scowled.
"I wish you wouldn't read my mind."
"That wasn't what I was doing, but I'll let it pass."
"Cherry . . . "
Cherry glanced up, looking more irritated than interested, but something caught her attention. She blinked and made the book disappear. Her left hand flexed once where it rested on her knee into an almost clawlike shape, the sharp nails digging into the black cloth of her trousers, then relaxed. Her purple eyes grew flinty, taking on a faint reddish glow, and she started to tense her body.
His Majesty actually looked amused. His previous anger seemed to have vanished. He looked directly at her, and the queen deliberately looked away. "Don't be silly," he said. Cherry's eyes suddenly went wide, and she rubbed her forehead with pain and disbelief. "You seem to be forgetting your lessons."
"Don't you dare," she growled at him.
"Why not? I'm hungry, you can spare the blood, and you can't resist if I don't want you to. Why bother trying?"
"I'll kill you." Her hand flexed again.
He smiled. "I'll just have to live with it then, won't I? But I don't think you will. Perhaps you won't even remember it. I'll let you choose that. Do you want to remember it or not?"
"Nothing is going to happen."
"Yes it is. I want an answer." He kept on smiling while she kept on scowling. Silence reigned supreme for a few seconds. Cherry rubbed her forehead again and again as the silence drew itself out. "Give me an answer or I'll force the issue."
"Then you'll have to work it a bit stronger than this!" she ground out. "I am keeping my own counsel! You will not . . . " Cherry paused to take a breath, rubbing her forehead again, and seemed surprised to see sweat on her fingers.
"You will obey me," said his Majesty pleasantly.
"You will not break me. I . . . will . . . " She broke off in a piercing screech which stopped as she held her head in her hands, tottering out of her chair, and almost caused me to try to do the same, but my hands passed right through my head.
I thought I knew what was going on. Although it was rarely used, a bond was created between a vampire and a person he has taken blood from. Generally this other person, this victim, will obey without the bond being used, and if not, the vampire will look the victim directly in the eye, thus completely hypnotising him. His Majesty was now using this bond to compel Cherry into submitting to him. She was quite obviously not going to obey him, and would most likely resist all attempts to get her to look him in the eye.
At the moment, my red-haired cousin was breathing heavily with bared teeth, hands clenched at her sides hard enough to draw blood, back straight, and on her knees before her husband.
"Just so. If you cannot resist, what is to prevent me from doing whatever I wish, no matter how much you would dislike it?"
Her eyes widened and her eyes flashed even redder, the brightest red I had ever seen. It was so bright that his Majesty was compelled to flinch back. They were positively glowing now, illuminating the room in the direction she was facing. It was generally dark in the rooms she lived in, with only a fire for lighting and a heavy curtain over the window keeping the sunlight out. "That would be . . . That would be . . . " she rasped out, shying away from the last word.
His Majesty looked at the queen a few moments before grimacing and helping her along. "Rape, I believe, is the term you are looking for, and it wouldn't be such by human law, because you would have acquiesced to it and I am your husband."
"What does your law say?" Cherry asked in a low voice.
"Yes, there is the problem of that. It wouldn't do for me to break my own laws. And before you say it, they are my own laws. Father had different ones, and I revised nearly all of them. At any rate, I wouldn't even think of it unless you were truly willing. Or until my personality had several centuries of tempering. Your blood, however, is another matter. And I rather feel you need to be reminded what your station is from time to time."
"Station!" She immediately started to stand up, her now bloody hand reaching forward. "My station is not my concern! If you . . ." She inhaled sharply, her hands again pressing against the sides of her head, serving to smear the blood from her hands to her face. His Majesty reached forward and grasped one of those hands, holding it firmly no matter how much she twisted it about.
"I wish you'd be more careful of yourself," he said at last. "Some day I may have to have you bound up to keep you from hurting yourself."
"Don't worry about me!" she said, smiling viciously. It looked particularly grotesque with the way her eyes were glowing. "This little amount of blood loss could never hurt me. I'm fine, as long as I don't loose too much." She glared at him, still trying to release her arm, seemingly unconsciously. "And I won't."
"My Lady Cherry, you were aware of the obligations placed on you when you had your initiation, were you not?"
"It doesn't matter. I don't mind being cast out of the tribe. I've rarely ever even met my mother's tribe." She gave another tug that sent her stumbling back as his Majesty released her.
He looked at her for a long moment as she crouched against the wall. It was as if time had frozen. Both the king and queen of vampires watched each other warily, one brightly colored as a painting and the other light and shadow, like a marble statue. Then he shook his head and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Come here, Cherry. Now." Her eyes half closed and glazed over. She moved forward in obedience to the one who had now taken over her mind. I quickly fled the scene.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Complaints
When morning came, instead of going to have the spell taken off me, I simply went to sleep floating there in the hall. I slept on for quite some time, and when I woke up, the sun was just rising on the next day. I went to report to Cherry and, hopefully, to come back into existence. I floated into her rooms, and then to her bedroom, where she was sitting up in bed with a very sulky look on her face. That face startled me. It was usually very red, but now it was as pale as the moon.
"Cherry?" I asked tentatively.
"Baslon's making me stay in bed until I recover." Her mouth twisted. "He ordered me!" she griped. "By my name!"
I was taken aback. "Your husband knows your real name?" The name of an elf, gnome, nymph, or leperachaun was guaranteed to obtain obedience, although they would resist at the first chance they got in such a case. This was not the name they were given at birth, but rather a name chosen by many people, although no one knew what that name was save the person it was given to. "How?"
"I signed some drawings in the elven script, and I didn't know enough about politics to realize he would understand it." She bared her teeth in a parody of a grin. "The next time I see him I'm going to relieve him of a fair amount of his own blood, but I won't swallow a drop." Her purple glare now rested on me as if I were the sole reason for her misfortunes. I drifted backwards somewhat to a safer distance. "Am I an 'elegant vision of the shining sun incarnate on earth'?" she demanded of me.
"No, Cherry, I would say that you are not."
"Good. You should tell that to Baslon." Cherry's eyes flickered to red, then back to purple. "He keeps calling me 'his little pet', and sooner or later I'm going to rip out his throat."
"I imagine he would find that unpleasant and uncomfortable. Would you like me to do anything for you?"
"No, don't worry, Roumlie. I can turn you real again easily enough, and send you home, I suppose, if you want me to."
"Thank you." I soon felt the weight of gravity with some relief, and looked around my home in the roots of a big tree. Then I started fixing breakfast.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Mistake
After a nap and supper, I returned to the castle of the vampires, climbing over the wall. Very carefully and quickly, I slipped through hallways. I had waited a bit too long to arrive, and it was almost, but not quite, dark. Cherry chortled when she saw me. No doubt I was a bit wild about the eyes, but she waved a hand at me with that simple spell of the angel's before I could say anything. I stumbled slightly. Cherry grinned at me, her eyes dancing with mischief.
"Stay a bit tonight, please. I'm going to amuse myself, at Baslon's expense."
I shook my head, but hovered up to the ceiling of her bedroom.
His Majesty gave a slight bow when he saw her, saying gravely, "Good night, Cherry."
Cherry just looked at him. I shook my head, wondering at her nerve.
His Majesty seemed to smile for a moment before taking a seat. "How are you feeling today?"
Cherry continued staring at him.
"Any pain, nausea, weakness? Because if there is, you'll have to remain in that bed much longer than you might have to otherwise."
She still didn't respond.
"Or should I just take that as a yes to all of those questions, and make you stay in bed that much longer than you would have otherwise?" He paused, searching her face for any reaction. "Yes, then. I'll send someone up with some broth. And you will eat it, Samaya. Is that understood?" I jumped. That must have been Cherry's true name, the name that could make her obey orders whether she wanted too or not. It wasn't going to be very pleasant for me now that I knew it. "Good. Now I have to leave you, not that you'd object to that. I still have that Sirii ambassador to deal with. The sirens make such difficult people to get your own way with. And as long as you're not going to respond anyway . . . " His Majesty leaned forward and kissed her. Cherry blinked, startled, and tried to pull away. She choked slightly, squirmed, and grimaced until her husband let her go. He smiled, touched her hair lightly, and said, "Until tomorrow, then, my little pet." One of her hands on the quilt jumped at that nickname, and she glared at him as he left the room. I floated down from the ceiling.
"Maybe now you'll understand how dangerous it is to displease a vampire?" I suggested, fighting to keep my own smile under control. Cherry's gaze leveled on me, but she wiped her mouth off on her sleeve before answering.
"How would you like to never have your natural form back again?"
"It would be unpleasant, but I believe I could learn to live with it. What was that about the sirens?"
"I don't know. All I know is he's been out of sorts when he comes by, he doesn't stay very long, which is fine with me, and the vampires all seem to be very jumpy with a pair of sirens in the house. I haven't the faintest idea what it's all about. One fresh-water siren and one salt-water siren. Both with ambassadorial status, so no matter how much other people want to, neither can be killed. Mother's been here several times, although Baslon doesn't want me to know that. Everyone's on the verge of going crazier than a phantom with them lodged here. And they won't leave until they come to a satisfactory conclusion. No one likes that."
I nodded thoughtfully. "And what will you be doing about this?"
"Nothing, unless someone chooses to involve me in some way. I hate politics."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Advisor
Cherry was in a bad mood when I came back from a circulation of the top floor of the castle. When I inquired, I learned that the next night his Majesty intended to bring Cherry to the council room and involve her in the discussions. There would be dignitaries representing all the races of the supernatural, except, of course, humans. Neither of us had any idea what part she would play, but she requested me to accompany her, since she didn't know anything about politics.
"Do you?"
"Yes. Enough to know that something pretty serious is happening if his Majesty is introducing you into the discussions after you haven't been following the procedures."
"So do you have a title?" she asked.
"I am the Earl of Trentian and the Head Healer for the Elves of Cirala," I told her.
"I'll add another one on. Chief advisor to the queen of the vampires. Is that objectionable?"
"No." I paused, then grinned. "No, your Majesty." She threw one of her pillows at me.
"At least I'll be able to get out of bed. Tomorrow, then."
"Of course, Cherry. But I think you should remember that things could be dangerous."
"I will. Goodbye, then." I abruptly appeared at home in my normal condition.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Queen
I floated in shortly before sunset, then halted. Queen Vrenkley was there with her daughter.
"Mother, for the last time I will not interfere specifically for the Cirala elves just because I happen to be a member of them myself!"
"Calm down, dear. I don't think purple is your color." Her Majesty made the dress disappear, replaced by a white one.
"And I don't want to wear a dress." Cherry created her usual white shirt and black pants.
"It has to be a dress, Cherry, dear. White might do, but it doesn't quite work. You're going to be the center of attention, love." Her Majesty smiled, and created a gold dress.
"I don't want to be the center of attention." The dress changed back to Cherry's normal clothing, then back to a dress.
"Come, dear. With your coloring, you'll always be the center of attention, and there is quite a mystery surrounding you. You're practically the second most powerful person in the world!"
"What about the empress of the sirens?"
"Third most, then, but still . . . Hold still, dear."
"I hate dresses!"
"You used to wear them. Why do you hate them now?"
"I got married in one, Mother," she ground out.
"And you so rarely make a public appearance. Everyone is going to be wondering about you. You'll do fine, no matter what. Just try to keep your mind where it belongs! The siren's song . . . it's just horrible. You haven't any idea what it's like."
"Mother, I live with a vampire."
"Oh. Well, I suppose you do, at that. How long can you resist, though?"
"Long enough. I'm going to be conducting a few experiments, though. Just to amuse myself until the night's over."
"Try to behave dear, and pay attention. It's important, if you'll ever become a queen of the elves. Maybe of all elves."
"That's not likely to happen unless the Silenti royal family adopts me."
"They might, and then you can unite the two tribes."
"Who live a thousand miles apart?"
"Just move one tribe or another. Probably the Silenti, who have always been jealous of our position."
"Mother!" She nodded in my direction, an absent acknowledgement of my presence. "What would you do if I decided to turn those ambassadors into toads?"
"Have one of the little people turn them back again, but don't do it, Cherry. They are ambassadors, and as such must be treated with respect."
"Aren't you an ambassador, too?"
"Yes, dear. If of another sort."
"So why aren't you complaining when I don't treat you courteously?"
"Never mind, dear. Just try to be diplomatic. And don't disagree with anything his Majesty says. He's been under a lot of pressure recently."
Cherry grinned. "I noticed."
"Time to come along, dear. They'll be waiting for you."
"Us."
"No, you. You're the one everyone is so curious about. And don't change your dress again!"
"But it's exactly like my wedding dress!"
"That's the point. Do behave, dear. Come along." Her Majesty opened the doors until both queens stood in the halls, then the mother dropped behind her daughter like a lady's maid. Probably Cherry wouldn't have liked it if I told her that at that moment, but she did look remarkably like a queen.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Acting
When the three of us entered the antechamber, his Majesty was already there with another vampire, deep in discussion. They both looked up. His Majesty smiled while the other vampire had a carefully blank face.
"Hello, Cherry. Your Majesty," he added almost absently, to Queen Vrenkley. "You look very nice tonight."
Cherry glared at him. "Was this get-up your idea?"
"No, it wasn't. If you don't like it, blame your mother."
"They're young yet," murmured her Majesty to the other vampire. He nodded.
His Majesty seemed to realize that Cherry didn't know the other vampire. "Oh, Cherry, this is Ebuc, my regent. He came over from Dendra, which may give you an idea of how serious these dealings with those ambassadors have gotten."
"Of course."
"Cherry, we may be on the brink of war."
Cherry blinked, glancing around uncertainly. "I warned you it was going to be serious," I murmured in her ear. "Maybe you should try playing the fool." I could tell that she hadn't the faintest idea what I was talking about. It was true. This girl who seemed to be perfect at just about everything hadn't the faintest idea what politics was all about. Which likely meant she wouldn't have to play the fool, she really was an innocent about all this.
"Cherry," said Baslon, "out of curiosity, can you just make your eyes start glowing, like when you get mad?"
"No," she said. "It's an involuntary reaction. It just happens when I get mad enough. Why?"
"A threat, of sorts. It's not important. We go in last, of course. The sirens seem to like to have the very first word. I can't imagine why," he added in a dry tone. The king looked thoroughly disgusted.
Yet another vampire poked his head in and called over the queen and regent, leaving only their Majesties alone in the room, with me, although I didn't really count, not being in existence. Then again, I could now have the chance to make much more of an impression on the world than ever before.
"Ask him what he wants you to do!" I said urgently. I couldn't do anything unless I knew what was going on, and I didn't even know the rumors about it. Cherry's eyes flickered towards me uncertainly. "Ask!" I repeated. She scowled.
"Baslon, why exactly do you want me to come to this meeting? I don't know anything about politics . . . I don't even know what's been going on!"
His Majesty looked at her somewhat apprehensively. "Are you upset with me again?"
She shook her head irritably, although she looked as though she was. "No. I just want to know something, as it looks as though I'm going to have to. Why do you want me here? What am I supposed to do?" Cherry definitely had a roundabout route of asking other people's questions.
"At the outset, just to be there. There's a whole list of reasons for that."
"Skip it, then."
"Of course, some of the others may deliberately ask you your opinion, just to get an untried person to speak, and there would be a multitude of ways to twist anything you said. Perhaps later you could introduce some subjects with a great show of ignorance, so we can have a reason to discuss that. Basically what most of us are trying to do is just to avoid making any promises and keep our minds where they belong. Just look innocent at first, concentrate on keeping free of the sirens' song, and don't say anything."
"Easy enough," she muttered.
"I don't mean to be insulting," he said meekly, thus startling Cherry into a bark of laughter. At that moment the vampire opened the door again and mentioned that all the dignitaries were now assembled and waiting for their Majesties. Cherry was able to twist her wry grin into a guileless smile which slipped somewhat when her husband took her arm. His Majesty patted her hand as they started toward the door. "Don't worry about a thing," he whispered.
"I'm not," she whispered back. The door opened, and a fanfare sounded.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Politics
Their Royal Majesties, King Baslon and Queen Cherry of all the Supernatural!" proclaimed a herald as I fluttered through to the tremendous audience chamber. That was a very circumspect insult. It indicated that the vampires ruled the sirens, who were, in fact, their own government. It also indicated they ruled the humans, but no one paid much attention to them. Looking back at the royal couple, I had to admit they did look the part, his Majesty in stark black and white, with only the gold circlet on his head relieving the shades of gray and her Majesty in gold with her hair arranged to look like her own crown. They were also the tallest in the room. Cherry's smile was now faint and she looked slightly fanciful and absent-minded as she looked beyond the walls to other, far away places. His Majesty was as grim as death.
"What would happen if I turned that herald into a deer?" murmured Cherry.
"Pandemonium," replied her husband under his breath. "So don't."
The pair walked down a short flight of stairs and all the way to a pair of thrones, one of which probably hadn't been there the day before. The king helped Cherry into the wooden one and seated himself in the stone one. I maneuvered myself so I hovered just above Cherry. There was a few seconds of silence before his Majesty announced in a carrying voice, "Lord Ebuc of Dendra. You may speak." Which rather effectively drew attention to the fact that things were actually getting serious, if a vampire had come all the way from Dendra, an over water journey of about three and a half thousand miles.
The said Lord Ebuc stood up, just to the right of his Majesty's seat. "Dendra replies to the king's need," he said with a certain ritualistic pompousness. "We come at call through all obstacles, and will assist even the most foolhardy schemes to one purpose; the preservation of the world as we know it." He sat down.
"The throne thanks you," said the king. "And now . . . "
"Your Majesty, stop this nonsense," said a sing-song voice at the other end of the table. "It is not important as to who your allies are or are not, simply whether you shall give us what we want." As the man spoke, most people's eyes glazed over slightly or showed signs of strain. I looked the ambassador for the sirens over. He was slight of figure, but distinctly larger than the man sitting beside him, which labeled him a salt water siren, and the other to be a fresh water siren.
His Majesty slowly turned his head. "Have you amended your treaty, then, Ambassador Chriton?" he asked in a cold tone.
"Why of course, your Majesty," said the siren, his voice becoming even sweeter and more bell-like. "Here," he held up a piece of parchment, "I will read it to the assemblage." King Baslon's jaw clenched, but the siren had begun reading before anyone could protest. The parchment was several yards long.
About halfway through the parchment (and I saw the fresh water siren getting ready to read another parchment at least as long) I floated down and asked Cherry, "How are you getting along?"
"What about you?" she murmured.
"For one reason or another, it doesn't seem to be affecting me at all, and he's getting farther from talking and more towards singing with every word."
"I'm fine, although it does take a bit of effort to keep my head clear. It's not nearly as bad as everyone here is making it out to be. But I guess that proves it."
"Proves what?"
"The state you're in seems to protect you from the sirens' song. Everyone here is putting out an effort to keep free, even the other siren. But not you. You're protected, and the only thing different about you is how much you exist. What do you think of that?"
"It's just fine with me. I wouldn't like having my mind taken over, like the time when you sang for me."
"But you existed then."
I considered. "It's to my way of thinking that you might be a better singer than they are."
"They're not exactly singing."
"Yes, but what if you were to challenge them to a singing contest?"
Her lips twitched as she fought to control a smile. At last she said, "I'll think about it." She was probably worried she'd burst into laughter instead of song.
The first siren finished and the second already had his mouth open, when suddenly Cherry spoke, her clear voice sounding almost as sweet as the siren's, but without the hypnotic power behind it. "I think it might be a good idea if we were to take a short recess now, to talk Ambassador Chriton's words over and see what merit is in them. It might be best for all concerned if we were refreshed to discuss this." The people around the table shook their heads, rubbed their temples, shivered, and showed other signs of coming out of a protracted sleep. A few were longer in coming out of the spell than others. Cherry sat back in her throne, watching them awaken, while King Baslon stared at her in stunned surprise. Cherry winked at him. "I would have said something sooner, but it was probably best to wait until he was finished speaking."
"Cherry, do you realize that this is the first time anyone's gotten a word in before they were ready for us to? They are very effective at manipulation. And you'll probably be hailed as a hero by all but sirens, who will have quite a time trying to figure out what went wrong. You wouldn't happen to know what they were talking about?"
Cherry shrugged. "I could probably repeat it for you word for word."
"Would your Majesty let your humble servant escort you from this room?"
Cherry scowled at him, taking his proffered arm.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Trust
I don't understand it," he said for perhaps the tenth time. He was pacing about the room while Cherry examined a painting on the wall.
"Neither do I, so you can stop saying so."
"But Cherry, no one else was even able to interrupt. And you do it without the least effort, indeed, you're more afraid of being rude than of that."
"Maybe because I've had experience with resisting that sort of thing."
"You wouldn't object, would you, if I made you ambassador to the sirens?"
Cherry laughed. "Not at all. It would get me away from you."
"Then I'd better not." He approached her from behind, looking over her shoulder at the picture, then switching his gaze to her neck. The two small wounds were healing nicely, but she was still rather pale, for her. No one who did not know her would know that, though. That meant, to the sirens, Baslon was willing to leave her alone and indicated great strength on her part. Of course, they would probably underestimate that strength, which in turn meant they would underestimate Baslon's affection for her. Most people would neglect to remember Baslon could control her mind, and few knew their personalities. Baslon leaned closer to Cherry, his gaze fixed on the two small holes in her neck, then jerked himself back as Cherry looked around, resuming his pacing again. She looked suspicious but did not call attention to it. "I'll just put you to taking care of them, then, while they're here. I think I'll send them out of the council room this time, with you, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind. This whole thing helps relieve the boredom. I find it very amusing for you to be in the same state you've so often put me in."
"You might want to interrupt them again if they seem ready to ramble on longer than necessary. They seem almost desperate to start a war, to become the ultimate ruler of the races, but don't seem to want to be the ones to make the first move."
"Standard operating procedure when you're short of people in the army and need some recruits. Make it seem like you're being wronged." At Baslon's startled look, she explained. "I liked talking with the master at arms, and was rather thoroughly lectured on every war in human history. This is warfare, not politics. They could be the same thing, except for all the veiled insults."
"Just interrupt when you think the time's right. We'll be forced to rely on your sense of judgement."
Aside to me, she murmured, "What if the way I interrupted was making you solid right over those sirens?"
"Please, don't," I begged.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Sirens
Cherry patiently endured another round of discussion that led to the fresh water siren reading his scroll. The sirens now looked rather nervous, eying her with apprehension. To be sure, she didn't seem dangerous. But somehow she had been the only one to keep clear of their spell, their major magic. A fairy had discreetly whispered in her ear how grateful everyone was for her interruption.
Once that was over, the sirens were sent away for the members of the council to talk the treaty over, something his Majesty had not had the nerve to do before for fear they would wreck havoc among the members of the household. Now they were sent away, which was a great relief to everyone, and Cherry escorted them to a dining room. She sent a servant to bring drinks.
"So, what do you want to talk about?" she asked brightly, seating herself with some difficulty with her skirt.
"Your Majesty, I'm afraid I have trouble introducing a topic," said Ambassador Rethoremos. The other nodded agreement. Cherry frowned.
"Funny, I thought that would be one of the requirements of being an ambassador. That and being able to hide insults easily." The sirens looked discomfited. Cherry smiled rather foolishly. "I know! You can tell me what's been going on in there. This is the first time I've ever been involved with politics . . . would you believe that?" she demanded.
Chriton coughed discreetly. "Your Majesty, I was rather under the impression that your marriage was for political reasons."
"Well, it was for political reasons that Mother didn't object, but neither Baslon nor I planned anything along those lines," she said, still smiling foolishly, but I could see her eyes from my position, and there had been a flash of red in them.
"Why did you marry, then?"
"Baslon fell in love with me," she replied instantly, her eyes again flashing with quickly suppressed fire.
"And you with him?" prompted the siren.
"That's usually how it works." The ambassadors indicated that it was not how it usually worked, but she paid no attention to them. Instead, she nodded at me, her face showing slight signs of strain. "Would you sing for me?"
They both blinked. Chriton stood up abruptly, while Rethoremos just stared. "Ah . . . your Majesty," the fresh water siren began uneasily, "I don't think that would be advisable."
"Why not? I won't kill you if you get carried away with your own singing. I sometimes do. Please do it." She looked at them through hooded eyes. "I could phrase it as a royal command, if you want."
They swallowed and exchanged glances. One opened his mouth, then closed it. The other whispered something to him, and they both nodded. Looking rather sick, they moved together with their hands behind their backs, heads high, and voices trembling and began singing an old dwarven air. Cherry smiled, nodding her head to herself. She applauded politely when they finished. Then her foolish smile slipped into a mischievous grin, and they both took a step back before she composed her face again.
"Now that you've sung for me, I should return the favor. Although no elf could hope to compete with a siren, much less a half elf, you could tell me how I compare with those of other races you've heard sing." She pursed her lips thoughtfully as the two stumbled over each other with explanations of why it would not be necessary. I think they suspected she was not exactly a half elf, and her violet eyes were the first hint as to what other species of supernatural might be in her blood. "Now this is English, so it's not my fault if it doesn't come out as well as it might.
"In the water of the world
"Where sunlight exists not,
"Where moonbeams come through sea swirls
"And song creates what is sought.
"Those who are yet alive
"Will remain just so.
"But those dead will remain all ill,
"Just so and forever so."
Her voice was not in the least like a bell, as the siren's were, but the magic power of the sirens' song was much more distinct, and it reached me even when I didn't exist. I suppose that ruined Cherry's theory. But the sirens, Obscrond and Mirange, oh, the sirens . . . ! The two ambassadors sat prone on the floor, their eyes fogged over, with no expression in their faces. It was some time before they even began to recover. Once she got her laughter under control, Cherry looked at me. I was trying to get my own laughter in safe bounds.
"Obscrond and Mirange, girl, you're ten times better than both of them put together!" I said, losing the reserve I usually had around her. She just rocked back and forth, looking pleased with herself.
"Maybe diluted blood is good for something," she suggested.
"Maybe."
"I wonder if there are any spies around us?"
"If there were, they're not going to be even thinking for a couple of hours. And these are sirens! They're supposed to be at least partially immune to this, and now look at them! Oh, Obscrond!"
"Stop swearing," she chided me gently, still grinning. She got up and put both sirens back in their chairs, cocked her head, then put their hands on their heads, drinks in their laps, and a carnation from a nearby vase in their mouths. "How's that?"
"Just fine," I said, thinking that the first thing they'd do would probably spill liquid all over their fine clothes. "I hope it takes some time before they finish talking over this treaty. They might not be able to move on their own in time otherwise."
"Wouldn't that be a shame?"
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Entitling
It was some time before Cherry got the idea of singing to them again and hoping it erased the effects of her first song if it was about waking up. Then the sirens refused to talk, rather sullenly, until someone came to fetch them all back. I floated along at a safe distance.
His Majesty immediately came forward to escort Cherry to her seat, murmuring under his breath to her. Only I heard what it actually was.
"Cherry, your mother arranged for you to be the heir of the Silenti if they should not happen to have any children."
"Oh no," she groaned with fervor.
"And then the gnomes, fairies, sprites, leperachauns, and nymphs all got together, the Doz resigned as he's been threatening to do throughout the procedures, and you became the new one."
"What!" The Doz was the ruler of those five races combined. They did each have another, separate ruler. The Doz's duties were largely ceremonial, but was present at this meeting. The mutual agreement of the other rulers was enough to name a new Doz.
"I warned you they'd be impressed."
"Now what am I going to do? And that's only after resisting! What if they find out what I did to the sirens?"
His Majesty glanced back at the Sirii ambassadors. "They do look somewhat out of sorts. What did you do to them?"
"I beat them at their own game. We had a singing contest."
His Majesty blinked. "You are part siren, then? I thought your eyes were a coincidence."
"Mother brought my family tree with her." She abruptly pulled a heavy packet of paper out of the air as she sat down. "Here." He pocketed it and called the meeting to order.
"Ambassador Chriton, Ambassador Rethoremos, I am afraid that we do not find this treaty satisfactory. We will have to request that you write it over again. In specific, we will not agree to give you Queno," the Iberian peninsula, "or Warelnen," which is England. "We will not cease our explorations of the southern continent, which you term Silarret. We will agree to leave the oceans alone, if you agree to leave the land alone. If you want to maintain trade between yourselves and other species, you must have a guide who will speak for you. It doesn't matter what species."
Rethoremos stood up hesitantly. "We will have to write to our rulers about this," he whispered in a hoarse voice. "We think we may agree to these conditions, but for now we would like to withdraw."
There were murmurings among the supernatural seated at the table. This was absolutely astounding, to them, at least. If they had been there they would have been even more astounded. The sirens disappeared out a back door. Finally the previous Doz, a leperachaun, approached Cherry. "Your Magnificence," he said with a bow.
Cherry blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I am here to make certain that you understand you are now the ruler of the little people. That is the last of my duties. Do you understand this? Good. Goodbye, your Magnificence." He walked away, leaving Cherry to be assailed by five more people, three of whom were waist high, and the other two were about the size of a rat and had wings. All were rather slight. They also addressed Cherry as 'your Magnificence.'
"Oh, dear," she said, looking rather bewildered. I didn't think it was an act any more. Cherry was a bit of a child, and rather silly at times. She had not been, but now was getting quite confused.
"Don't worry about a thing," said the leperachaun queen. "You can stay here, and we'll only send you a few little things to put your signature on. We won't bother you much." Cherry glanced quickly at me for advice.
"Agree," I hissed.
"I . . . I'm honored, and . . . I'll do my best," she said. That proved to be enough. The four left, only to be succeeded by a phantom. Everyone watched that one nervously, although not in the same way as the sirens. Phantoms were just insane, but could be trusted if you made sure they did not forget anything. This one sighed mournfully, then greeted Cherry. She nodded back hesitantly. He sighed again.
"Nobody understands us."
"I'm sorry," she smiled just as sadly as his sighs sounded. "I grew up with humans." I shook my head at her. It was not a good idea to mention that, even if it was common knowledge.
"You should try to understand us."
"I will do that."
"No one likes a person who's insane."
"That's not true." She lowered her voice, which relieved me as soon as I heard what came from her mouth. "I'm insane too, and Baslon likes me well enough."
"Can you prove that?"
"Which one?"
"Either."
"I won't bother with the last, but my mother gave me the additional name of Amano when I was born, and there must have been a reason for that."
The phantom showed interest. "What reason?" He sighed again. "It's not important."
"Of course not. Is your name Klandar?"
The phantom hesitated. "How did you know that?"
"It's not important," she mimicked, "except your daughter is my father's mother."
The phantom looked at her sharply, then resumed his mournful expression. "I'll see you, hopefully later."
"It will be later. I don't remember meeting you in the past." Among other things, a phantom could travel through time, an inheritance from its angel ancestors. He immediately demonstrated this, or perhaps just became invisible, like I now was. The king and queen of Silenti immediately stepped in. The queen beamed at Cherry, who just sighed exactly like the phantom had done.
"Hello, my dear, adopted daughter. What have you been doing with those two frightful sirens, that they should look like that when you finished with them?"
"I turned them into weres, and they tried to sing at me, but had trouble speaking. I did turn them back, but I think their vocal cords were permanently affected," Cherry lied glibly. Her voice sounded in my mind as it had on the day of her wedding, 'Are all pure elves so giddy and overdramatic? No, Mother's not a pure elf, and she's giddy enough.'
"Cherry, be nice," I told her.
"But then," continued the elf queen, "so many people must be dying to meet you. You're going to be a queen, but then, you already are. Never mind, your Majesty."
"Of course, your Majesty." The queen and king of Silenti left. I thought I could guess who did most of the talking.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Loneliness
The line of personalities desperate to meet the queen of the vampires grew longer until Cherry's eyes started flickering red more often, and I advised her to get some rest. She excused herself, and her husband escorted her back to her rooms. When they were alone he gave her a fiercely proud kiss and beamed at her. "And you don't know about politics! Well, I must say, you do a remarkable job. I doubt there's anyone who believes that now, except perhaps the Sirii ambassadors."
Cherry squirmed out of his embrace and promptly changed her dress back into what clothing she was used to. "It wasn't politics, I just happened to be part siren, and that saved me. It's not my fault."
"Oh, yes, it is! You were fantastic, Cherry. You'd have had a million offers for marriage by the end of that if they hadn't known you were married to me."
Cherry's eyes flickered red again, went back to purple, flared and died several times. His Majesty noticed that uneasily, but saw her yawn as well. He immediately caught her chin and made her look him in the eyes, while she was too startled to object until it was too late. "Cherry, you need to go to sleep. I should have told you to rest a few days ago, not just stay in bed. I won't make that mistake again. Have you slept since then?"
"No," she responded hollowly.
"Then go to sleep now." Cherry crumpled in his arms like a rag doll. His Majesty carefully picked her up and smiled down at Cherry, tenderly rocking his wife like a baby. "Don't worry about a thing, Cherry," he whispered. "I won't let anyone harm you, I won't harm you seriously enough to cause you permanent damage, and I'll keep you from harming yourself. You just relax and trust me. There's no reason not to trust me. No one will hurt you. Poor thing," he murmured as he entered her chambers, seating himself in a chair.
Curious, I stayed near. This was more a lonely little boy than a king. A lonely little boy rambling on to a friend he knew would not tell anyone his troubles, a pet. So his Majesty actually meant his nickname for his wife literally! I did not know that I should tell Cherry that.
"Poor thing," he repeated. "All alone, no one to love but a vampire you've sworn to hate. I know one day you'll leave me. Not yet, I hope, and I'll be after you in an instant when you do. But some day you'll leave me, and when you do, you'll fall in love. Then you'll know what I feel like. Someday, Cherry, you'll fall in love. And then I will have a reason to be jealous. There's quite enough to worry about as it is, but you seem to have routed the threat of war with the sirens. Single handed, too. That'll shut all those people who don't like our marriage up. All but you. What would you do if I ordered you to love me, Cherry? Right now, when you would obey my orders? What would you do if you fell in love?"
He was silent for a few moments, thinking. "No, I can't see you in love. Or at least not admitting you're in love. That's it. If you ever did fall in love, you'd deny it, even to yourself. So I may not ever have to be jealous. You will fall in love, but you'll deny it. So I don't have to worry about that, do I? Nothing will ever change between us. Maybe, someday, you'll consider me a friend, but until then, nothing will ever change between us." He sighed and rubbed his cheek on Cherry's hair, looking into the distance as if remembering the past. There was silence for a long time.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Love
Vampires," Cherry muttered just loudly enough for Baslon to hear when he entered the room, "are meddling creatures who only tamper with other people's minds because they have none of their own." He ignored the comment. It was actually true of some vampires, but not of those born as vampires, not of those who had always been vampires. His Majesty was one such.
"I would guess that you are mad at me at the moment," he commented.
"However did you know?"
He also ignored the sarcasm. "You're going to be much angrier by the end of tonight." Before Cherry could move, he reached out and caught her shoulder. She made a startled noise in the back of her throat.
"I have the strongest feeling that you are going to be in great pain, as well."
He chortled. "Still impertinent, still Cherry. Good girl." She hissed at him and twisted. She began to change her shape, then stopped, gasping aloud.
"Stop it!" she screeched.
"No, pet. There are certain things I must attend to first." He moved back and sat down, perfectly at leisure. "I am not going to let you move, or use any of your magic until I've arranged a few things . . . made a few minor changes."
"What!"
Oh no. This could not be happening. This was not supposed to happen! But there was absolutely nothing I could do, only hope it was not the wrong thing.
"I won't hurt you, Cherry. It won't even affect you much. Just a little thing, one that won't show for a long time. You may never even know what it is, and no one else will."
"Baslon, you let me go, or by the gods I'll . . . !" She was positively raging now, straining against barriers that only existed to her, but ones which were all the stronger for that. Her eyes were not only red, but completely devoid of all sense, a lesser animal's eyes. If the king did let Cherry go just now, he would not live long enough to leave the room.
"Shh. Pet, my Cherry pet, calm down." He stroked her hair lightly, deftly keeping his fingers away from her snapping teeth. Cherry had definitely been around vampires too long if that had become her main form of defense.
"Let me move or . . . ."
"Cherry, I could always change my mind about this and simply make you fall in love with me. Do you want to be quiet, or would you prefer I did that?" She choked and silenced, her eyes wide. He smiled sadly, touching her cheek. Cherry didn't move. "What I'm going to do is make sure you won't leave me forever. I know it will happen some day, so I have to make sure you'll come back. I have to," he repeated wonderingly.
"Sure, I'll come back," Cherry snarled. "Two thousand years after the day I leave."
"That's exactly what I mean. Stop struggling, Cherry. You're only hurting yourself uselessly." He must have reinforced his statement with his mind, because she immediately relaxed.
"What else?" she asked warily.
"A few petty, inconsequential things some political parties wanted. I'm not going to do those, though. They don't think things through. I don't want you changed, Cherry, pet, not unless you love me, and I want that to come naturally."
"You'll have a long wait." Without warning she leaped forward. The vampire stumbled back in surprise, and then Cherry's eyes fogged over as she collapsed.
"Get up. How did you do that?" he demanded.
Her movements were jerky and mechanical. "The cracks in our minds don't wholly overlap," she said hollowly, without feeling. I felt sick. "All that's needed is a little careful probing and a firm twist, and then they'll slid right through each other."
"Don't do it again."
"Yes, my Lord."
His lips quirked at that, and then a sudden, mischievous grin made him look much younger, almost boyish. "Cherry, we're going to play a little game. You won't like it, but you won't remember it after I leave the room, and when I next come back here, you won't be angry with me any more. Are you ready?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"All right. Here's what we'll do." He took one of her hands and peered into her eyes as if making sure there was no red left in them. "We're going to pretend that you're in love with me. Just for a few moments." He hesitated, watching her closely, then rushed on. "You'll act like Cherry, but for a few moments, you'll be in love with me. I'll act out whatever comes naturally to me. And then you'll revert back to the real Cherry, hate and all, and for a few moments you'll remember what happened, but you won't try to hurt me. And then I'll leave the room, and you'll forget all about it. Is that understood?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Now."
The change was abrupt. The blank, emotionless look left her face in an instant, only to be replaced by a bright smile. "Hi, Baslon!"
He smiled back tentatively. "Your Majesty."
"Stop that." A flicker of irritation crossed her face and was gone.
"Whatever you say, Cherry." He looked at her closely, then stepped forward and gave her a long, tender, lingering kiss. I politely looked away, but kept peeking. I was finding this very amusing.
Cherry stepped back quickly as soon as he let her go, blinking in confusion. Her husband continued looking at her, measuring her reactions. She had not struggled, as was her wont, but seemed to be in distress over it somehow.
"Baslon, please don't do that again."
"Is something wrong?"
"Something, yes, but I don't know what it is . . . . You know I don't like being kissed. Ow!" She put one hand to her forehead, then stared at the man in front of her, taking another, longer step back. "How could you!" she gasped, taking shuddering breaths as though she were about to start crying.
"Are you all right?" He reached for her.
"Don't touch me!" she shrieked. He quickly drew back. She took another breath. "You'll have to excuse me for a moment."
"I'll leave."
She sat down hard, holding her head in her hands. "Please do," she whimpered.
As soon as Baslon left the room, Cherry stood up again and began retching violently on the floor, her whole body shaking and tears streaming down her face. All I wanted to do was take her in my arms and try to comfort her, but I knew I could not do that. When I asked her about the entire incident, she only stared at me blankly, her face creased with a kind of hidden terror and lined with the trails of her tears. After a few minutes of trying to resurface her memory of it, I decided there were none, and urged her to get some sleep. For some unusual reason, she turned automatically and went to her bedroom, not arguing over it with me one bit.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Phantom
It can't be too big, or he'll be able to make too much of a nuisance of himself, and it can't be too small, or he'll be killed too quickly."
"Why don't you just leave his Majesty his normal shape and let him do what he wants?" I suggested.
Cherry stared at me incredulously, looking up from her list of possible animals to turn her husband into, her hand still poised in the act of crossing out all animals larger than a human and smaller than a sparrow. "Do you know what he wants to do, Roumlie?" I flushed, or would have if I'd had a face.
"I didn't mean whatever he wants to do," I hurriedly explained. "I meant, it wouldn't be a good idea to leave him like that permanently. They might decide to leave you queen of the vampires, either as the only ruler or bring in someone else for you to marry. Someone who'll be a little less willing to leave you alone. Some men are only interested in one thing."
Cherry scowled, then brightened. "Then I will just turn him back into a vampire again before they can do that." Satisfied, she turned back to the stack of parchment on her desk and methodically ran down the list, crossing off most of the animals. She stared at the paper for a while after that, probably deciding there were still too many more than one animal left. "And it can't be a flying animal, or I'll never be able to turn him back if the animal's mind takes over too much." Her pen began crossing off animals again. "No supernatural or primate. And . . . no cold-blooded animal." She glanced over at me for help.
I sighed and dragged my brain for ideas. "What about water animals?"
"No water animals," she repeated, marking the parchment again. "It is going to be an animal, of course. I don't have the patience to make a list of all the living things in the world." To my mind, it must have taken incredible patience to write out that list of every animal in the world, only to cross most of them out. "That leaves some mammals . . . and the flightless birds. I'll cross them off. Mammals . . . mammals . . . Carnivore, herbivore, or omnivorous?"
"Whatever your Majesty thinks best," I said, rather stiffly, I'm afraid.
She gazed at me steadily with a puzzled look in her lavender eyes. "Herbivore, then." She worked steadily for some minutes before giving a startled exclamation. Looking in the direction she was, I spied the old ruler of the phantoms, looking much saner now that he had discarded his melancholy look. She glanced at the wall at the point where the window would be if her bed chamber was instead her sitting room, she commented, "I thought you'd be here before this."
"I was held up," he said miserably, flicking water droplets off one brown wing. "Those angels can be quite irritating at times, do you know that?"
Cherry laughed agreement. "Don't tell them that or the world will fall apart."
He nodded, then, not one to mince words, he got straight to the point of his business. "You claim you're my daughter's daughter?"
Cherry looked at him, shrugging the hidden accusation in his voice conveniently off and away. "Granddaughter," she corrected absently.
"Prove it."
"How?"
"For instance, who is your grandfather?"
"Craken is dead now, but I met his father once. Wind-Elan was half dwarf, a quarter human, and a quarter giant. Plus, he's considerably taller than me. A siren had his child, Craken."
The old phantom frowned. "I guess that's fair enough."
"Why did you want to know?"
"Well, if you're to be my heir, I need to make sure you deserve to be."
Cherry gave her great-grandfather a long look. "I don't need to be anyone else's heir. I just got pushed into being Doz. What else? What about Grandmother?"
The phantom's face resumed the tragic look. "She committed suicide a long time ago. You're the only one left to become the Duchess of Enenen." Cherry stared at him, then slowly buried her face in her hands. I stumbled in my shock. The theory I had made while examining Cherry's family tree was coming true! Phantoms didn't have a king or queen, they had a duke or duchess. The duke patted her shoulder. "There, there. Ruling phantoms isn't as bad as it seems."
"I hate politics," she mumbled.
"And when my own parents die, when and if, you'll also get to be queen of the angels and king of the poltergeists. Don't worry about that, though. I doubt they'll die too soon, but I've been planning to kill myself for a while now. Now I get to do it."
Cherry whimpered softly. "Duke Klandar, why me?"
"You know, I'm really starting to believe you're the only sane person in the world. You hate politics, that shows you're sane enough. Don't worry about that, though. I won't nose my thoughts all over the world. By the way, my subjects sent you a letter." Klandar fumbled through his pockets, finally handing her a piece of paper he'd been holding all the time. She accepted it weakly. "Now, what else was there? Oh yes. The wraiths and the specters, although they didn't tell you . . . You're their ruler, too. I don't know what title they're going to make up for you." Those two species, often compiled as one, generally made up a new name for their ruler, never using the same one twice. They claimed they were waiting for the perfect ruler. Once when a specter had mentioned that to me, I had asked why they didn't just call the ruler Amano, Obscrond, or Mirange, the names of the three major gods. She had told me it would be blasphemy, and besides, they wanted one that would suit either gender. "I think that's all, and I won't be seeing you again after this, so . . . " He paused, then reached out and hugged her, with tears glistening in his eyes. "Goodbye, Granddaughter."
She hugged him back briefly. "Goodbye, Grandfather Klandar." She still looked completely baffled, rather than sad at the passing of a kinsman, no matter how briefly she knew him. The phantom disappeared. "What do you think of this, Roumlie?" she asked me listlessly, staring at the unopened letter.
"Phantoms aren't as insane as they seem," I commented.
"Oh, they are. This one was a strange phantom. But what I meant was all those titles."
I had no sympathy for her this time, only a certain satisfactory maliciousness that I knew I should not feel but did anyway. "A heavy weight to bear."
She pushed the list of animals away and lowered her head onto the desk. "Very heavy," she said miserably.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Animals
Hello, Cherry!" said Baslon, striding in. I found I was picking up more and more of my cousin's habits, losing those from home. Always before, even in my thoughts, I had referred to the king of the vampires as 'his Majesty,' but after seeing him talking to an unconscious Cherry, my mind had forced me to realize that, whatever he might seem when on his throne, Baslon probably didn't want to be involved in politics any more than Cherry did. What he wanted was Cherry, but he was much more decent than most other people would be under such circumstances. Cherry, on the other hand, likely didn't know what she wanted. She maintained that all she wanted was freedom, but to all appearances, she had as much freedom as she needed. All she had to do was ask, and Baslon would send her anywhere she wanted. Maybe the asking was what kept her. Cherry didn't like even asking, which was why Baslon's later threat angered her so much. And if she ran away, he'd be after her so quickly she wouldn't get beyond the palace walls.
Cherry mumbled something as she continued puzzling over which animal would be best.
Baslon peeked at the paper, then appeared puzzled. A list of all the animals of the world sat in front of her, starting at human and going on towards gar. This page represented several species of butterflies that she was considering uncrossing. "What is this?"
"A list of animals I could turn you into."
He turned over several pieces of paper she had discarded, each filled with close handwriting on both sides. Cherry handed him the page of butterflies almost absently, turning to a series of rodents. "Thorough," was his only comment. "I could turn into any animal you want me to."
Her lips began to twitch uncontrollably, and when she spoke there was still a threat of her bursting into laughter at any time. "But I want to hold you in that shape, and not let you come out even when you want to," she said. "You'd make an interesting horse. I think those pages are somewhere near the bottom."
Baslon sighed and obediently began looking for a list of horse species. When he had found it and handed it to her, he reached towards her and stroked her hair until she shifted her chair away from him with a glare. His Majesty (it is hard to permanently break habits) just smiled at Cherry, a knowing sort of smile that made her begin to fidget after a while. "You're looking better tonight."
Cherry cocked an eye at him, then began crossing out more animals, having just thought of another topic not to turn him into. Then she threw down her pen. "But that leaves nothing!"
"Excuse me?"
"There isn't a single species of mammal I can't understand."
Baslon nodded, his face expressing dejection, regret, and resignation. A flicker of anger passed briefly over his features. Then he bowed, asking, "Would you like to go for a ride tonight, Cherry?" She grinned and nodded, standing up. Some new thought made her laugh. Baslon looked at her quizzically.
"I'm trying something new tonight," Cherry explained. "It's going to be fun. But, Baslon, would you promise me something?"
"Anything," he responded instantly.
Cherry looked at him, probably wondering at his readiness to promise something he didn't know. She went through a moral crises plainly visible on her face between asking for her freedom and what she had originally intended.
"As long as I don't loose you," he amended.
She looked at him a few moments longer with narrow eyes and a stubbornly set chin before shrugging and going out the door he held open for her. "Don't interfere."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Stubbornness
It seemed to me to be only reasonable when she took Human out of his stable, unclipped his harness, and made no move to retrieve his bridle to want to interfere and prevent her from trying what she intended. No matter how good a rider she was, Cherry had never ridden without bridle, reins and bit before, and Human, though he seemed to like Cherry, was not only not trained to go without bridle, but was also a bit wilder than the rest of the horses in his Majesty's stables. Which, no doubt, explained Cherry's reason for extracting such a promise. Baslon looked very uncomfortable as he uneasily watched her handle the large animal.
"Cherry, you're not planning on . . . "
"Don't worry, Baslon. I'll be fine." She continued to stroke Human, crooning in his ear, for several minutes. He seemed even feistier than usual today. With a determined look on her face, she mounted.
Human tossed his head and champed his teeth, feeling for a bit that wasn't there. He raised himself off the ground in a sort of half-rear. Cherry smiled to herself, stroking Human's neck, before flashing a furious glance at Baslon. "Not interfering includes catching me if I fall, and ordering me to stop before I'm ready."
The vampire took in a deep breath and let it out with a shudder. "Could I possibly have a promise from you, Cherry?"
Her look changed to one of suspicion. "Depends."
"That if you choose to go on after sunrise, you will come back before sunset tomorrow."
She grinned with relief. "No worse! I promise." Aside to me, she growled a comment that he'd order her if she didn't. Privately, I thought that she was also pleased to be permitted the extra time to herself.
"I don't think I can keep up with a horse." Cherry only tossed her head, very close to the manner Human had only seconds ago, glancing at her husband. It was a moment before I understood. She wasn't going to say anything to me where someone might hear that couldn't be ascribed to talking to herself.
"Let's go, then!" Her hands were twisted in the stallion's mane, her legs firmly wrapped under his body. She pressed hard in with her knees, and Human jerked into a run. Not a gallop, a run, which was a very bad indication. With no control over the horse, Cherry stood a terrible chance of being carried off wherever the horse wanted to take her. But she showed no signs of even trying to regain control. The two dashed out the open gates and into the world beyond.
When Human bolted, Baslon let out a sharp expletive and wheeled his own thoroughbred around after her. I heard him muttering that he would have to get a faster horse if he were to ever catch up with her. I floated after them both as fast as my present form would allow.
When I caught up with them, some distance into the woods that surrounded the castle on three sides, Human had managed to throw Cherry, and Cherry had managed to land so she broke her leg. Her calf was bent and the bone had torn through the flesh. She was losing blood at a fast rate, and the idiot refused to let Baslon help fix it.
"You promised you wouldn't interfere!" was her argument, despite the fact that she would likely have a terrible infection as well as a torn muscle and a broken bone if something wasn't done quickly.
"Cherry, I didn't think I was going to have to stand aside and leave you in such pain!"
"You didn't think at all. You didn't stop to think of the consequences, and this is it. Now let me alone!" Her voice and face were tight with suppressed pain as she reached for her leg. Baslon grabbed her wrists.
"You haven't the faintest idea how to set a bone," he growled. "Look at how your leg is twisted. You could wind up causing yourself even more damage than you started out with, though that's certainly enough. And probably will!"
"I can manage!" She tried to shake him off, unsuccessfully. "You . . . " She hissed when he lightly touched her skin just above the wound, her face twisting with the pain. "Promised!" she almost cried.
"You see? But if you're going to insist . . . " He stood up and turned his back on her. Human and the thoroughbred were standing just beyond them. I was in a position to see that His Majesty's anguish was probably greater than Cherry's. He hated to see her in pain. She was probably fairly indifferent to it, only it was hard to walk, ride, or fight when one of your legs doesn't work.
Cherry pondered her leg for a moment, then laid hold of the bottom half, wincing. She turned it slightly, then a little more before setting it down again.
"Cherry," I said, "he's right. You're just going to make it worse. You don't have the materials to clean that wound." She only growled. Baslon, probably thinking she was hurting herself, almost turned around again. I would have been afraid of speaking right in front of the vampire if it hadn't been for the fact that I couldn't hear myself. That made all the difference.
Baslon winced as Cherry hissed again. This time he did turn. "Cherry, you have to let me help you!"
"I can manage on my own," she gasped.
"I find that difficult to believe."
"I"m fine!"
"You are not." Cherry was powerless to resist that firm denial. She didn't move as Baslon approached her, looking more like a mouse cornered by a snake than anything else. He knelt by her in the dirt, looking only, not touching. Cherry was still tense, as though ready to leap to her feet at any moment. Except she wouldn't have been able to. Then without any warning, Cherry's supporting arm fell out from beneath her and she passed out. Baslon looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry I had to do that, but otherwise I'd never get you back to the castle." He closed his own eyes briefly. "Maybe I should never do that again." Opening them, Baslon looked down at Cherry's unconscious figure, touching her cheek tenderly, then focusing on the gruesome condition of her leg. Baslon closed his eyes again, shuddering. "Maybe."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Books
Her Majesty having momentarily dismissed with my services so she could gripe about having to stay in bed, and myself having explored the entire castle, finding numerous empty, hidden rooms but none where the vampires might sleep, I returned home in solid form to clean my house.
It was something I did from time to time, getting rid of a lot of clutter that had accumulated over the months. My home was exceptionally dusty now, too, a result of increasingly infrequent habitation. First I swept out all the dirt, then thoroughly scrubbed all flat surfaces. Then I put everything that was not in it's proper place away. As I cleaned my writing desk, my eye fell on a large pile of papers, not unlike the one Cherry had used to list all the animals of the world. The differences were there, however. Across the middle of the top page read, in English;
The Princess of Near Cross, as Told by Michael Facio
I puzzled over that, then realized it was Michael's attempt to spell Mnerecros. I altered that spelling, then ruffled through the pages. Unlike Cherry's papers, this was a story, not a list. It was written in a light, flowing script instead of bold, angular strokes, and there was almost nothing crossed off. What had been eliminated was scratched out so that there was no hope of retrieving it. The language used was the same. It seemed Cherry had been born in the humans' England. Warelnen, the misty island. The story, or book, or manuscript, or whatever you would like to call it, began;
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Lament
This is an accurate account of the past five and one half years of my life as I witnessed it. When I started this account, I was just beginning to feel the depression that would soon weigh so heavily upon me. I needed something to escape, and this account was the best that offered itself to me. Perhaps I should not torment myself with memories. I know I should not, yet I want to leave something behind for people to remember me by. Now, as I am finished with this document up to this date, November 20, 1467, I am prepared to set it aside and permit the depression to settle in again. But I must delay that for as long as possible. I must! I am a human being, not an insane animal. I am still lost in the growing darkness of my own life and mind, and the endless love for a woman I could not have. But I will not let myself go entirely insane. I must escape! I need to escape, somehow, someway, sometime, no matter how horrible and complicated the route to freedom.
My life before the horrors started is a safe subject. I will discuss that. At my christening I was named Michael Facio. I was of mixed Italian and English blood, or so I thought. It was mostly English. I was born on April 15, 1449, in York, England, son of the Earl of York. Actually, I was illegitimate, being born before my parents were married. Perhaps that is why my parents were willing to send me away, even if they thought it would only be for a short while. They were ashamed of their own act whenever they looked at me, although they tried their best to keep me happy. I might even have been happy, if it weren't for that girl.
That girl, that woman who is still a child. How I miss her! And now, and now I'll never see her again. She never loved me, I think I always knew that mine was a hopeless love. But still, when she was happy, it made me happy, and it made me so miserable when she lost her freedom.
I must go. Roumlie is calling, and it would not do for him to lose his head!
But Cherry . . .
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Lies
After reading the first and second pages of the human's manuscript, I rolled it up and tied it with a piece of string, just in case Cherry might want to read it, then returned to my cleaning, thinking over what I had read. That one page had given me a new insight to Michael's mind, something you never found when mind reading. That paper told me what I had wanted to find out when I tried to read his mind, but had either been unable to find or unable to interpret correctly. Maybe he had deserved to die, maybe it was all for the best. It could be that Michael was truly miserable enough to die, only I, not having that clear an understanding of misery, passed it off as sheer fancy. But I didn't approve of using writing to forget, and what was the point of writing about the very thing he was trying to forget about? Writing should be done when one is happy, so a reader would enjoy it. It should be about something one wants to remember, or at least that would be what I would write about. If I were to write a story, or book, as Michael's amount of pages was sufficient to make it that, I would write about something I wanted to remember, such as my association with my red haired cousin. That would be worth writing about. I looked over at my desk. There was still plenty of paper there, even with how much Michael had used, for drawing up proclamation, taking notes, and so on and so forth. Plenty of paper for writing a book. I picked up one sheet of paper from my desk. Perhaps . . .
Just then, another elf stuck his head inside my door to inform me that her Majesty wanted to see me. I set the sheet down and followed her to the old pine tree throne. "Yes, your Majesty?" I inquired with a bow.
The pine needles rustled as the queen emerged from higher branches. "Ah, Roumlie. There you are. My daughter has need of your services again. I have here a request from his Majesty for someone to assist her to walk. It seems my daughter had been misbehaving somewhat, and broke her leg. She's too weak to fix it. That girl needs to learn her lessons better! She'll never be a good queen if she doesn't learn, and never if she doesn't learn to stop being so picky. She refused a vampire to help her and insisted on an elf from her own tribe." I hesitated, then realized she was lying to me. Some of it might have been what she wanted to be true, some self delusion, and some she might have just gotten the wrong information. But the rest was a deliberate lie to one of her own subjects for no reason at all, no good reason, at the least.
I pleaded time to pack, received permission to leave, and stiffly walked back to my house. Once home, I sat down at my desk, dipped a pen in the ink, and wrote The Queen of the Vampires across the middle of the first page of paper. After consideration, I unrolled Michael story, and at the tops of both, wrote another title to indicate that they were both about the same person.
The Child of the Races
I began my own story with a complaint against the queen of Mnerecros.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Broken
Your Majesty," I addressed Cherry formally, with an even deeper genuflection than I would generally have used for her mother, but at the same time trying desperately to keep from fidgeting. I was extremely uneasy, which mainly stemmed from the fact that Baslon was watching me carefully. I suppose I was also unused to speaking to Cherry and hearing myself at the same time. That was a long way to have come from the time I wished we could both hear me equally well!
Cherry looked up from her book and focused on me with a vague smile. "Hello. You're Healer Roumlie, aren't you?" Slightly off balance and taking a moment to regain my equilibrium, I quickly reminded myself that I was not supposed to have seen her since her wedding, and not before that, either. The young queen was propped up in bed with some pillows behind her back that she seemed to not like.
"Yes, your Majesty."
"Cherry's been somewhat disoriented since her fall," murmured the king under his breath behind me. "You must forgive her if she seems unresponsive." For my part, she seemed to have a remarkable grasp of the situation to remember something that I hadn't and would have been much more affected by. "Give in to whatever she wants," he added. "I guarantee she won't seriously hurt you." His voice tightened. "She does all those experiments on herself." I glanced at him, realizing that he was probably hoping I could keep her out of trouble and keep her amused enough that she wouldn't play any tricks on him. My guess was that her worst tricks had been done when I wasn't present.
"Yes, your Majesty," I said obediently. Cherry had gone back to her book, turning the pages with one hand while the other was drawing strange designs in the air. When I looked closely, I could see a faint irregularity where her red fingers had passed, a light shimmering. "But if you please, your Majesty, is there anything that your own healer has said I should do in regards to her condition?"
"Don't let her walk around too much. Try to get her to sleep some, try to get her to eat. She's remarkably stubborn when it comes to those things."
"Yes, your Majesty. Would you object if I gave her Majesty an analgesic?"
"If you can." He waited for me to administer the drug. It was not only an analgesic, but also a heavy sedative, which would be very good for my own nerves. Cherry glared at me, and I glared back. "Stop reading my mind!" I mouthed silently, still holding the sealed cup out. She sighed, took it from my hand, and swallowed, making an exaggerated grimace at the taste.
"Don't put too much pressure on her," Baslon cautioned. "She might seriously damage you or herself. Cherry's temper isn't a safe area for experimentation." I refrained from commenting on how true I knew that to be.
Cherry looked sleepily at her husband, the effect of the dose of medicine I had given her. "What temper?" she asked impishly, fighting against it.
He ruffled her hair fondly. "Don't be silly. You know what I'm talking about, Cherry." She shrugged. Baslon kissed her cheek and left the room.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Effect
Baslon could get just as angry as Cherry, in his own way. Where Cherry was extremely violent, loud in her shrieks, and likely to damage all and sundry, Baslon kept himself firmly under control with an icy silence stopped only by the occasional sarcastic remark or threat, rarely acted upon. He was just as frightening in his calm fury as Cherry in her heated rage. I found that out the next night. Almost as soon as he crossed the threshold, Cherry began baiting him for an argument, probably inspired by my strict obeying of his commands. She didn't want to stay in bed, go to sleep, or eat a morsel. All in all, she got quite sulky about the whole thing.
"Go away," she said snappishly, grumbling under her breath.
Baslon hesitated, then carried on towards her bed, sitting down beside her. I retreated somewhat. Cherry turned her head towards him. She looked angry, though her eyes remained purple.
"I said, go away."
Baslon slowly shook his head. "No, Cherry. I love you."
Cherry continued looking at him steadily for several minutes, perhaps trying to unnerve him. Baslon turned his head at a slight angle so they did not make direct eye contact. After a few moments, she quite deliberately said, "And I hate you." His Majesty froze, looking stunned and dismayed. He couldn't believe it. I immediately guessed that Cherry had never said that straight out, but I was in doubt as to the truth of the statement. She might have believed it from time to time, but I sincerely doubted that she actually hated her husband. It was more of a wary friendship that could be shattered on her side with a moment's ill considered word. He had to be careful to keep on her good side, and now had to be even more careful to keep his health.
Baslon was quick to recover. His muscles tightened in anger as he turned toward me. "Leave us, witch." I knew better than to argue, and found that I wasn't even angry over the insult. As soon as the door closed behind me I felt a familiar loss of gravity and correctly interpreted it as a summons back to view the proceedings. Sending up a silent prayer to the gods, I floated back through the door.
Baslon was standing up now, and Cherry was still looking at him, but her gaze was more watchful now, as if she were judging the effect of her words. Unfortunately, she'd already just used up her worst insult to get him mad. Anything else said would have distinctly less impact. There was nothing that would shock him more than the utterance of those words. Cherry waited for him to say something.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked at last in a strained voice.
She bared her teeth in a grimace that was a mocking parody of her normal grin. "There's not much I could mean so I suppose you'll just have to take it literally." Her voice snapped as she spoke.
"I see." He sat down in her desk chair. Floating closer, I saw that his hands were clenching and unclenching at a rapid pace. "Why?"
"Oh, I just thought I'd see what your reaction would be."
"I see," he repeated. His eyes narrowed as he slowly said, "And what would you do if I grabbed your mind and made you grovel on the floor in front of me, leaving you complete knowledge of what you were doing while at the same time making you act as though you worshipped me?"
She shot out of the large bed, standing mostly one one foot, her eyes immediately flashing red. One hand reached forward as though she were going to grab him, but she didn't move any closer than she already was. With an effort, Baslon got himself back under control.
"Someday one of us is going to kill the other. I would prefer that didn't happen today. I am not going to toss insults back and forth with you as if we were just humans."
"So? I'm half human." Cherry's eyes were slowly filtering back to purple. Her husband stared at her, and she gave a self conscious shake of the head. "Sorry," she muttered. "Effect of a long belief."
"Ah. Belief." He shook his head, likely thinking that Cherry had hoped to trick him. "I think I'll go now."
Cherry barely glanced at him, but the red practically flooded out of her now wide eyes. "I'll come with you," she said quickly.
Baslon blinked. "You're actually volunteering to accompany me?" he asked, a sudden hint of hope appearing in his voice. "What on earth for?"
"Well . . . "
Baslon watched Cherry fidget with a medallion at her throat, two snakes intertwined within a circle. That indicated that she was dedicated to the goddess Amano, somewhat in the way of a priestess without many responsibilities. "I thought you hated me."
"I'm incapable of hatred," she muttered. Cherry was a poor disciple for the goddess of feelings. "But . . . Baslon, I want to learn!" The god of knowledge, Yama, would have been better.
"Sword fighting?" What about sword fighting? "Why do you want to learn to use a sword?"
For answer, Cherry awkwardly hopped around to the foot of her bed, opened a large chest resting there and felt around inside it, bringing out the sword that she had somehow smuggled back from the metalsmith's forge. Baslon held out a hand expectantly, and she gave it to him.
"Where did you get this?" he asked, examining the length. Tentatively touching the blade apparently gave him a satisfactory sharpness.
"I made it." He slowly lowered the rapier and stared at her. "I don't know swords very well, but I think it's fairly good for the first time at a forge."
He shook his head in amazement. "Cherry, I don't know that it would be a good idea to let you learn to use a weapon. You're quite dangerous enough! But if you can make something like this," and he thrust it deep into a wall, "then you deserve to know at least something of the art." He pulled it back out. "I'll show you the practice yards." He bowed deeply, handing her back the sword. I quickly floated through the walls to the dining room and felt my substance come back just before His Majesty came into the room.
"Hi, Roumlie!" Cherry addressed me cheerfully, hopping in behind Baslon. "We're going outside to see how well I can learn to kill!"
The vampire sighed. "I suppose you'd better come with us. I think she may need help coming back to her rooms."
"Oh, don't worry about me, Baslon," she said with another one of her inexhaustible stock of impudent grins, holding the door open for both of us and leaning on the handle for a brief moment. "I'll be fine!"
I doubt she heard what he muttered under his breath. "The Creators send it is so."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Swords
First he positioned her hand on the sword, Cherry watching her husband warily as long as he was close enough to touch. "As soon as you become proficient, you'll have an advantage over most fighters," he told her.
"Why?"
"You're left handed."
"Actually, I'm ambidextrous." She shifted the sword back and forth between hands. "I just usually write with my left."
"Use left," he advised, and Cherry smiled somewhat.
"Whatever else you may be, Baslon, I have a feeling you'll be a good teacher. And for that I am in your debt." She bowed elegantly. Baslon appeared somewhat confused.
"I only know one way to teach, and that is not the way I am used to treating you."
"Then teach, Baslon. Teach me to use a sword." She held it left handed, now. Baslon fetched a practice sword from the racks, holding it pointed at the sky.
"Whatever else you do, try to keep your balance. Your life isn't worth much when you're lying in the mud." He hesitated. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
"I don't mind." There was a slight strain in her voice, and her faced looked tight with impatience and the desire to say something much more pointed. What she minded was the apology, not what he was apologizing for.
"Then keep your balance, and your sword, in battle. It's best to attack . . . "
Cherry learned swords as quickly as she did daggers. Baslon was very careful, though. A bit too careful. She'd never really learn if she never had to really defend herself. The fact that it was Cherry he was teaching seemed to make his normal teaching technique less effective. She learned, and learned fast, but never actually learned to use those skills. It was just another game to her, not even potentially dangerous to either of the opponents.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Michael
With a very slight limp, indicating that she was in much more pain than she showed, Cherry trotted beside Human. The stallion had been wary of his young mistress since her leg was broken. Now, a week later, Cherry was trying to gain back the horse's confidence and trust. Her tactic was to just be with horse, usually in her natural form, but sometimes as a horse. She also showed a certain indifference towards boundaries such as doors, and thus the two spent as much time inside as out. Never outside the palace gates, though. Baslon had placed firm strictures on just how far she could go. While Cherry could no doubt manipulate him into doing whatever she wanted to, she didn't, since it would take an unusual amount of not being herself. She was too honest for that. Not that she couldn't lie. I'd heard her tell quite deliberate lies too often to say that. I just don't think she did lie very often. And she couldn't act like what she called, 'A giddy elven noblewoman,' usually when referring to her mother. Cherry had her personality, and meant to keep it.
Running behind her along the corridors, ready to catch her if her limp should become more pronounced while at the same time trying not to be too obvious about it, I pondered on what would happen if Cherry should ever decide not to stay in the castle any longer. I believed she would obey until something happened that would make her decide to leave. Then, all the races but human would know it within the month. She would have to avoid all eyes, would likely get bored after a while, and humans were just too irritating to remain around long. I couldn't understand just why . . .
I don't think either of us noticed when the sun went down. I was too wrapped up in my thoughts, Cherry too wrapped up in her horse. Until we ran into a vampire.
Cherry and I both froze in shock, and Human shied. The vampire looked at us with no expression, then bowed. "Your Majesty." His voice matched his face. "Is there anything you need."
I don't know how Cherry recovered enough to have the presence of mind to ask even that question. It was one thing to think something, only neither of us had ever doubted it to be so, but quite another to have it proved to you. "Where do the vampires sleep?"
"Your Majesty knows I am not permitted to tell you."
"Then you are dismissed, Michael Facio of York." He bowed again, then left.
"Amano!" I exclaimed when Michael was gone.
"Yes, indeed," Cherry agreed with me. She looked faintly sickened.
"It's not many people who meet someone they knew as a vampire!"
"Not many at all."
"I think I agree with you. He would be better off dead." Her personality didn't like any type of imprisonment, of herself or others.
"Better off truly dead." I looked at her sharply. She wasn't the type to be that stunned by anything. "I think I'll put Human away and fetch my sword." She mounted, and Human went at a steady trot down the hall. It wasn't until I lost sight of them that I reminded myself that I was supposed to be accompanying her.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Worry
Cousin Cherry was in a pensive mood for several days after that, although the experience didn't affect her progress with the sword in the least, only her manner. Then, one morning as she got back from her lesson, the first thing Cherry did was take out one of her knives and several blocks of rowan wood. She cut, chiseled, and shaved away at them steadily until I told her it was time for her to get some sleep. "Nursemaid," she growled at me in English, passing from the hearth of the living room fireplace to her bedroom. I accepted that title with the flicker of an eye. She wasn't really angry at anything, just upset, although her eyes had been steadily flickering back and forth from purple to red all night. As soon as the door closed behind her I sat in a chair and went to sleep myself.
Waking up some hours later, I strolled about the rooms to wear off restlessness. Cherry's pile of wooden knives had grown somewhat in the interval between her arrival and me sending her off to bed. I moved them around in patterns, then decided it would be best if someone put them out of sight. After all, Baslon might think Cherry was preparing to carry through with her threats! I knocked on her door to ask where she might want them, and opened it in accordance to a few comments in some language I didn't recognize.
"You should make a map," she said promptly.
I blinked, readjusting my prepared question. "A map?"
"Of the palace," she explained. "In scale. To see how much of the castle you have covered." Now she turned her chair around in mid air to face me. She had Michael's manuscript in her lap, a pen in her hand. Tapping it, she smiled. "He's not a very good speller, but he does have a good memory."
"Maybe someday you'll write a book, too."
"Maybe." She laughed. "If I ever have the inclination at the sam time as I have the ability. Did you want something, Roumlie?"
"Yes. About your knives. Do you really think it's a good idea to leave them out where a vampire might see them? Certain people might not like it."
"You can do what you want with them. I can always make more."
"Would you like me to start now?"
"No, wait until Baslon dismisses you. If he thinks it unusual that I let you stay so long, we can always say you refused to leave. I like having someone to talk to."
"Of course." I let myself into a chair. "What do you want to talk about, your Majesty?" Cherry made as if to throw the manuscript at me.
"You introduce the subject. You're the politician."
"Even so. Then we will discuss politics."
She stared at me. "But I don't know anything about politics!"
"Then I will lecture you on the subject." Cherry hit her forehead in exasperation. I smiled, then began at a point I hoped we could find common ground on. At any rate, it would be important for her to know that, although I hadn't thought of instructing her on it before. "About your new titles, for example. There could be many reasons for most of those, but the main one would be an advancement of their tribe. With . . . ah . . . " I hesitated, trying to think of some way around saying 'wife'. "With you leader of them, Baslon might feel inclined to give them preference, but with you leader of so many, it cancels out many of the privileges a single group might have had." Her eyes shifted towards me in a direct stare that began to make me uneasy. I fidgeted where I sat. "Did I say something wrong?" I whispered.
"Not really," she said, although her stare did not waver. "I've just never heard you call Baslon in that way. It took some working to get you to call me Cherry, and I was wondering why you'd referred to him as such."
Hesitating, I remembered how the king of the vampires had been rambling on to her when she was unconscious. It would probably be best if I didn't repeat a single word that I had heard. "I guess I'm just picking up your habits," I suggested nervously.
"That's not it at all," she told me slowly, "and you know it."
Cherry was a queen. I do not know why that thought suddenly chose to cross my mind. There was nothing in her bearing to suggest it at that moment. Nothing to make her seem more queenly than usual, which was definitely enough, and I knew that she wouldn't expect me to tell her what I had heard with only that for a reason, but once the thought had entered my mind, I couldn't get it out. Cherry, this red haired, red skinned, purple eyed cousin of mine, whose wild habits and blatant self neglect would one day be the death of her, if not everyone else as well, was a queen. My queen. She was already a greater ruler than her mother would ever be, and completely by accident. I abruptly felt my loyalties switch, my entire world almost lose balance as the fulcrum of my existence moved. A simple move, from mother to daughter, but now I, as a lever, was that much stronger in my own mind. And I knew that I would follow her and obey her to the death.
Which, by the way, might not be that far off if I should happen to explain to her exactly what had been going through my mind. To distract Cherry from any thoughts she might have had about reading my mind, I started telling her Royal Majesty, Queen of the Supernatural, exactly what I had heard her husband say to her the night Cherry had received so many other titles.
She looked more puzzled than anything else, but did not seem inclined to comment. I did not feel like encouraging the conversation, and so there was silence for a long time after my last word.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Truth
Cherry looked slightly startled when Baslon sat down in front of her, as though she had not noticed he was in the room. "How are you, Cherry?"
"I'm thinking of becoming a philosopher."
He paused, uncertain what to make of that. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
"Why?"
He paused again. "Are you going to be performing any more dangerous experiments on yourself? I don't want you hurt."
"Oh, no, none of those, Baslon. I'm just going to start asking a lot of questions. At least I suppose that's what a philosopher does. For instance," she leaned back in her chair with her eyes half closed, "why exactly did you kidnap me?"
"I . . . ." The vampire blinked. "Well, your father was going to be taking you home, soon, and it would have been too much trouble to simply change so many peoples' minds, and . . . " He trailed off as Cherry looked at him with a small, knowing smile on her face. She shook her head ruefully.
"Really?"
Baslon fumbled with explanations for a moment, then actually began to blush.
"I would appreciate the truth," she added.
"All right!" he shouted, then looked surprised that he had shouted. "I just wanted . . . You were just rather . . . well . . . rather obviously out of the ordinary . . . stubborn, and . . . and willing to fight against anyone who would try to dominate you . . . . You see, I observed you for a long time before . . . never mind." He paused uncomfortably. "Anyway, I sort of thought that I would study your . . . resistance pattern, so to speak. See what worked and what didn't, then try them against my brother. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to beat Teran at finding a . . . never mind that, either." Baslon hesitated, then added in a sour voice, "I suppose your point is that I've tried dangerous experiments too."
Cherry grinned. "And probably much more dangerous to yourself than anything I could ever do to me."
Baslon sighed. "I accede to your argument." His head came up as Cherry was on the verge of opening her mouth. "But I am going to continue the experiment," he added in a much firmer voice. She looked faintly disgruntled. "I do not intend to give you any leeway in that matter."
"Thank you," she said surlily.
"Good girl," he murmured. He stood up and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Cherry's nails dug into the fabric of the sofa. "Try not to kill anyone."
"Yes, my Lord." The words came with a bitter sharpness. Baslon shook his head and left.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Plotting
I studied the paper. Making a map meant going through many rooms I had already visited, some repeatedly to make certain I had the dimensions right. I'd never before realized just how much a single room with several stories could disrupt the pattern of a castle. There were some very small amounts of closet space I had to account for, just so Cherry wouldn't send me back to ensure there were no hidden rooms. There was between floors, too. Even if the rooms seemed of normal height, I had to float around with my head in wood, metal, or stone to make sure there was no empty space. I began wondering why we hadn't just killed Michael when we'd met him, understanding after a few days that it was because neither of us had the means to do it at the moment. Besides, we'd been too stunned.
Somewhere around the fifth floor, measurements didn't add up somewhere. I thought I must have made a mistake. So I started through again. Everything was perfect except for a room just in the center, where I'd forgotten one wall. I floated in, and was surprised to find it several feet thick. I went along the length of the wall, and at one end, found a secret room. It was completely sealed shut. There was a table in the middle of the small room, with five chairs around it. On the table was a lamp, and in three of the chairs were four weres. Another stood in a corner.
"What about that new edict?" asked one, a man of about human size.
"I see the girl's hand in it, but it doesn't concern us," said the only woman. "Only the sirens, and that's if his Majesty is right about sirens being affected by vervain."
"And I see a chance to turn a profit here," said the second man at the table.
"Idiot!" exclaimed the woman. "Are you thinking of robbing them? They'd only throw the vervain away and pick it up again when they're finished with you. All that matters is that she's considerably more intelligent than we first thought her, which was certainly enough, and this extra power she's been getting. No one's seen her since the affair with the sirens and they agreed to his Majesty's treaty. To all appearances she's still here, but if we stole her again, we'd have to be certain we wouldn't be caught. One time it could be looked over, and she only a guest of a prince, but a second time, the wife of the king . . . Oh, no, this needs much more careful planning. I'm surprised they didn't take more direct action last time."
I knew they were wrong about the edict. Cherry hadn't even heard about it, but I had. Something about requiring sirens who came on land to bring vervain with them, to lessen the effects of their voice. But the rest was treason. Even conspiring together about it, they could all be executed.
"What is there to plan?" asked a man lazily. "I've seen her, walking about with no one but the big horse of hers. We just grab her, like last time, dose her with vervain, and go."
"And what if the horse is battle trained?" demanded the woman, waving her hands in front of the three men's noses. "What if it defends its mistress? What if it turns out to be a member of the supernatural posing as a horse? Besides, have you ever seen how his Majesty treats her? He loves her, and would marshall a full force to get her back. No one would help us, even the sirens. The weres would be destroyed. Another thing. The king fears her. He doesn't show it much, but he does fear her. Why would a vampire fear someone who seems so harmless unless she isn't nearly as harmless as she seems? He could kill her in a moment, yet he fears her. She is obviously strong in magic and in body. Unless you are idiots, you should fear her, too."
"Those are very convincing arguments, Ludra," cut in the man in the corner. He had a soft voice, yet they all silenced and turned towards him as he spoke. "Very convincing. But I have heard nothing say how we would gain her . . . assistance. How do we nullify these threats?"
The men showed no signs of coming to her aid, so Ludra was left on her own. "I don't know, my Lord."
"You don't know. What an excellent plan." All three flushed scarlet. I hoped any plans they came up with would stay as excellent. "To nullify many of these threats, it would be a good idea to gain her confidence. Select someone appropriate for that. No, I will, since you seem incapable of coming up with the slightest idea to further our cause. You three will wait for me to send word. I want no action before that. Is that understood?"
There were murmurs of agreement from those seated at the table.
"Then I advise you to leave now." They left through a concealed door in the wall, although they would have to walk carefully to avoid being seen. I had already seen them, though. And now I was hurrying as fast as I could to inform Cherry.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Warning
She was alone but furious, as well as somewhat drained. Literally. Her skin was white, much, much paler than its usual red hue. She was sitting up in bed, glaring furiously at a meal set beside her.
"'Be a good girl and get your strength back, Cherry,'" she growled. "'I don't want you seriously hurt, now, Cherry.' Hah! Next time I should turn him into a donkey."
"Cherry?"
"What? Would you get rid of that for me?" She pointed at the food.
"You don't take enough care of your health."
"Why should I care about my health?" She picked up a cup of fruit juice and shook it at me, spilling most of the contents. "It seems all anyone cares about is my health!" The cup broke against a far wall.
"Or how much power you have, which is exactly why you should calm down and listen to me."
"Calm down!" she screeched.
"The weres . . . "
"I'll turn the weres into donkeys, too!"
"Well, that certainly would eliminate the problem, but in the meantime, there is the fact that five weres were plotting in this castle to kidnap you again." That shut her up fast. I related the meeting in the hidden room quickly. Cherry sat without responding. "A good course of action would be to bar all visitors except your hus . . . except Baslon." Strangely, she didn't seem to hear my slip of the tongue.
"I don't see that many visitors anyway, but that would only give them an excuse. I told Baslon I'd finally sent you away. My leg's almost healed, anyway. Otherwise he wouldn't have bothered me. I doubt Baslon will let any weres near me. If he does, I can just be on my guard. He remembers last time a bit too well. Better than I do. I wonder what would happen if I turned him into a . . . ?"
"That doesn't really matter, Cherry. What matters is the queen of the supernatural is in danger, which could affect the entire world. It could even effect the humans!"
"Let's hope that day never comes. If you'll excuse me a moment, I think I'll yell at the gods for a while."
"It isn't wise to displease the gods, cousin."
"I sincerely doubt that the gods themselves are extremely wise."
"Which is exactly why it isn't wise to displease them. Otherwise they'd just ignore you, knowing what you say for the meaningless words they are."
"Very clever."
"Thank you. Now what are you going to do about those conspirators?"
"Nothing. I'll leave them alone, and be on my guard when any weres are near me. I can't do much else without giving away the fact that I know their secret, and letting Baslon know what you've been doing all this time."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Gigea
Sitting at my writing desk in my own home, I hummed as I tried to remember what Michael had said and done when I first met him. Now that I thought about it, he hadn't done much. He wasn't quite the sort of person you would expect to have anything happen to. Under normal circumstances, he might have been rather boring.
I worked my way up to the wedding, then found myself somewhat at a loss for words. I wasn't used to writing that much at a time, and so decided to put the paper away until another time. Writing a book might be a fun activity, but driving myself crazy in the process was not.
"Hello?"
I turned around in my chair.
"Are you home yet, Roumlie?"
"Gigea?" I got up and walked to the door. Sure enough, there was my sister. "What are you doing here? I'm old enough to take care of myself."
"Don't be silly, Roumlie. I just came by to make sure everything's all right. You know, Mother's getting worried about you." She stood on tip toe to try to see past my shoulder. I moved so my head was in her way.
"You can tell her I'm fine."
"But we haven't seen you in so long! Mother wants you to come home for a while." She looked over her shoulder behind her, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Is it true you were chosen to accompany her Majesty, you know, the one who married that vampire, to accompany her to some hiding place far away from some plot?"
"No!" I said, astonished that Gigea should even think such a thing. "And you really should watch how you speak of your betters. What if someone was listening?"
"But you did meet her Majesty, didn't you? Tell me about her."
"You saw her at her wedding," I said, internally wincing, even though Cherry wouldn't possibly be able to hear me.
"Yes, but what's she like? What does she act like? I want to know."
I caught my breath and puzzled over what would be safe to say without straying far from the truth. "Well, the queen is very . . . queenly," that was safe, "I mean, she acts like a queen and you'd know her for a queen even in rags. She has a commanding presence. She's got a bit of a temper," I couldn't leave that out, even if it was a bit under stating it, "but she's soft hearted." That was over rating the fact. "And it seems like she can do everything. And I mean literally." Gigea was nodding, waiting for me to continue. "Now I think you'd better go home. Tell Mother I won't be along for a while. I still have some duties for the queen."
"But Roumlie . . . " she started to complain.
I fixed her with a hard look. "Now listen, young lady, there are certain things that you are not old enough to hear."
"But . . . " I waited while she marshalled her response. "I'm ten years old. I have a right to know!"
"No you don't." Gigea looked disgruntled. The girl could be irritating at times. "You are only my sister, and not even your mother has the right to know, now that I have moved away from the family community. I don't have to tell you any more than I want to. Besides, it's impolite for you to ask. I've already told you as much as I intend to. Now it's time for you to go home." I picked Gigea up, turned her around, and set her down with a shove in the right direction. I groaned. Sisters were so irritating. Cherry was lucky to have been an only child, and so were all the people who avoided having her as a sister. I wouldn't want to even think of what it might have been like.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Were
I am the ambassador for the weres of Queno, your Majesty," said the man.
"What are you doing here, then?" Cherry asked. She rubbed a hand along Human's withers, looking over his back to the door of her rooms. It was daytime, and Cherry didn't see many people during the day, which might explain why she didn't send him away immediately.
"I am here to negotiate a peace treaty, and to ask after more liberties on the matter of trade. It is for the benefit of the economy, of course."
"Of course," Cherry responded, not looking at him. Her attention was all on Human, and I was certain it wasn't feigned. "You do realize that I'm not going to mention meeting you to . . . his Majesty, so you can't get me to help you with this treaty unless he specifically asks me for advice. Of course, that also means you can insult me as you like, as long as you don't take too long about it."
The were held his hand out to Human. Probably checking to see how much a horse that horse was. Human sniffed the hand, then snorted and tossed his head.
"Of course, your Majesty. This is a very fine horse."
"Human's a bit young, not too well trained. He threw me a couple weeks ago. Of course, he's sorry, but we couldn't go for a ride until my leg healed."
"You sprained your ankle?" he asked with sympathy.
Cherry laughed, shaking her head. I tried to signal her to not say so much, but she refused to understand. "I broke my calf bone. It cut right through the flesh. It was distinctly uncomfortable for quite some time. It's healed, now. Much better."
The were looked at her. "You say this was two weeks ago, your Majesty?"
"Two, two and a half. I'm not sure. Human's a good horse. What is your animal?"
The were was caught between asking another question and answering Cherry's. "I have that ability to turn into an elephant, your Majesty.
"An elephant," Cherry mused. "I've never seen an elephant before." She grinned. "How much room would you need?"
The were blinked. "How much . . . ?"
"I want a demonstration. How big is an elephant?
"It is the largest animal . . . "
"Largest animal on land," she corrected under her breath.
"...and would need a room at least as large as the king's throne room."
"You'll have to show me where that is."
"Of course, your Majesty. Follow me." He turned and headed down the hall in a quick stride.
I went down in front of Cherry before she could take a step. "What do you think you are doing, young lady!" I demanded.
"I've never seen an elephant before."
"You are putting yourself in a great deal of danger!"
"I know that. But it's worth it.
"Elephants are dangerous, Cherry. You shouldn't put yourself in this kind of danger without taking at least some kind of precautions."
"Don't worry about that. I'm taking some very careful , but dangerous, precautions. The precautions might even be the most dangerous part. Now if you'll excuse me." She skipped around me and ran after the disappearing ambassador. I floated as quickly as I could after her.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Kidnapping
The throne room, seen empty, was incredibly large. I had only had occasion before to view it full of courtiers and applicants. "You are a very reclusive queen," I said. "Most queens seem to want all the power and attention they can get."
Cherry shrugged. "Remarkable size. I've never gotten along well with crowds."
"Excuse me, your Majesty?" asked the were, looking confused.
"It's a big room," she said, trotting up to the large granite throne and bending over to examine it. "Interesting portrayal," she commented. "Somewhat Greek."
"What is Greek?"
Cherry turned around so quickly I did not see how she stayed together. She stared at the were-elephant incredulously. "What is Greek? Greek is something of Greece, a European human civilization." Her voice dropped lower than the were could hear. "Behind me, to my right. Don't worry, Roumlie, I'm watching them. They wouldn't be dangerous at all, except for what they are holding, and it's too diluted to make much difference." I turned and saw the four who had sat at the table in the secret room. She raised her voice again. "Weren't you going to show me your elephant?"
"Of course, your Majesty." He moved to the center of the floor and stretched. His color changed from flesh to a dead grey. He grew, and grew, and continued growing. I had never before seen an elephant, either, and was amazed at how big an animal could become. I had been expecting something a little bigger than human, but this was huge. Cherry watched carefully, then a ripple of that same grey crossed her red face.
Suddenly, Cherry gave an exclamation of disgust. I whirled around to see her wipe a wet substance off her face and stare at her hand. The four weres moved quickly before she could recover. They laid hold of her shoulders and arms. The woman shoved something under her nose. "Drink, girl." Cherry gagged. I floated closer to the cup the were held, then choked myself at the smell. Vervain!
But while the weres had underestimated her mind and magic, they had seriously underestimated her physical strength, taking it for granted that she would only be as strong as her appearance suggested.
She was not. And she was not taking that kind of disrespect, either. After initially trying to back away, she lunged forward, breaking their grip. The woman was fastest, knocking Cherry to the ground and wrenching her head up. Cherry twisted and snapped at the woman's fingers with her teeth. One came off in her mouth, and they both looked surprised. Cherry's surprise lasted longer, and by the time she got the finger out of her mouth, the four had hold of her again and were trying to get her to drink their awful concoction again.
The ambassador, having changed back from an elephant, looked furious. He waited until the others had forced the distilled vervain down her throat, Cherry breaking several of their bones in the process, before venting his fury. "I ordered you to wait until I told you to act!" he shouted at them. The four flinched back. One man and the woman held Cherry, who was trying to throw up. Once she apparently got it under control, she attempted biting the hands that held her.
"It worked, though," the woman pointed out meekly.
"But what if it hadn't?" he demanded. "We'd have lost every chance of ever capturing her, and now we have to get out of here without taking care of those other things. Oh, don't talk to me," he added when one of them men opened his mouth. "Just tie the girl up."
Tying Cherry up proved to be a dangerous task, because that involved coming within reach of her hands and fingernails, which were just itching to do damage towards her captors. Once she was disabled from any movement, a cloth was wetted with yet more vervain oil and tied under her nose.
The ambassador took a step forward, grabbed Cherry's chin, and forced her head up. He looked somewhat dismayed at her eyes. "I thought the reports said they were purple." He looked at the other two.
"I've heard of that," said the woman, moving back. "It is said that when they got angry, the dwarves' eyes turned red."
"Are you a dwarf then, Majesty?" he asked, turning to Cherry. She stared back at him, and after a moment his eyes faltered. His lips tightened and he raised her head even further. "You will behave, won't you, Majesty? We wouldn't want anything unpleasant to happen."
Her sudden grin was menacing. "That's not very likely. I am not used to obeying."
"Nevertheless, you will." He pulled a knife from his boot and held it in front of her eyes. "You wouldn't want to know just how unpleasant things can be." Cherry looked beyond the knife, ignoring it.
"Did I tell you about how I broke my leg? Have I told you about how well I can heal, how quickly? How much I can endure? You'd need to control my mind to get me to obey, and weres don't have that kind of shedur. Just try it."
"And have I neglected to tell you, Majesty, just how much I enjoy breaking down a strong spirit? We start with a knife. Just a knife. Then we move on to fire. Fire is even better."
"Not to mention that I passed my initiation to my mother's elf tribe when I was ten."
A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. But he persisted. "The humans have invented some remarkable torture device. Need I take the trouble of telling them to you, young human?" Cherry burst out laughing. The ambassador's face went back to furious. "Do you want me to start now?" he growled, reaching out with the knife.
"So that's why you hate me so much! Humans! Humans!" She finally stopped, gasping for breath.
"Cherry," I told her, "this is not a good time to have hysterics.
"Why not?" Her eyes didn't leave the ambassadors, and I knew that she wasn't about to show any discretion towards revealing my presence.
"Because a war is just waiting to be started here. If they kill you, there will be barely anyone left alive."
"War? Who cares about war? I don't. They don't. I'm not even sure I can be killed. Possibly. If they cut my head off."
"Who are you talking to, girl?" the ambassador demanded.
"A friend. A spy. Baslon likes making sure I can't run away."
"Do not talk of him like that!"
"Ambassador Tomanes, your present king kidnapped me while he was still a prince and not even heir to the throne. I'll speak of him however I please. Moreover, I did not take over his mind to force him to marry me. It was quite the other way around. Not that you'll pay much attention to me, but I just thought you should know."
"Human! Don't you dare speak to me that way!"
Cherry sighed. "You know, Roumlie, he rather reminds me of another cousin of mine, a bishop. They both acted like fanatics under the cover of advancing themselves."
The were's face went livid. He swung a heavy fist at Cherry. She closed her eyes and set her jaw. I expected her neck to be nearly broken, but she barely moved. Ambassador Tomanes, on the other hand, nursed his hand tenderly, spewing obscenities.
"Please, be careful of your language."
"You . . . !"
"I seem to have a remarkable control over how much pain I can feel," she commented, looking at the hand that had hit her. It was beginning to swell. "I didn't know I could do that."
The were took a deep breath, then cut a long, thin line on Cherry's right cheek. The blood welled up and dripped down her chin onto her shirt.
"Is something wrong here?" asked a male voice. We all whirled, except Cherry, who was unable to move.
"No, your Majesty. We were just getting ready to leave." The ambassador bowed deeply. The others were in positions so that Baslon could not see Cherry.
"Then why are you so afraid?"
They did not have an answer for that one. "It is nothing to trouble your Majesty about."
Cherry barked a bitter laugh again, still as harshly defiant towards the vampire as towards the weres. "They definitely do not want to trouble anyone with this little problem, your Royal Majesty, especially not you!" The title came out as a sneer. "By the way, Baslon, I think I've found that I prefer being a prisoner when I'm not tied up."
At the sound of her voice he had jumped forward, and by the time she finished her sentence, he had shoved all the weres away forcefully, although they were already scrambling that way without help. He looked rather helpless as he stood before her. "Are you all right?"
"Just fine, Baslon. Give me a second." She tightened her muscles. The cords binding her hands together broke. The cloth under her nose also broke with a sharp tug. It was used to wipe the blood away. "Have I ever told you how much I hate vervain?"
"Repeatedly. Are you all right?"
She rolled her eyes. "I told you, I'm fine."
"I'll call the guards, then." Baslon went to the door and stepped out but was back fussing over her a moment later. "Are you positive you are not harmed?" he demanded, helping her to her feet. "What happened?"
"I wanted to see an elephant and find out why they wanted too kidnap me. Did you know they think I'm a human? I jumped us all forward in time, from day to night. I'm discovering quite a lot of new things today."
"What was that about the vervain?"
"I think they made me drink a pint of it." She grimaced, swaying unsteadily and grabbing out for Baslon's shoulder. He put an arm around her waist, and seemed surprised when she did not complain. He started walking for the door as a group of vampires came in. I quickly gave them a cursory look over to make sure none was Michael. "Now I can't get it to come up, so I'm going to be rather sick for several days."
"In that case . . . "
"I am not going to be bedridden again! I can not stand the thing, I'm starting to sleep in a chair."
"What I was thinking, is that you won't be able to use your magic for a few days." Her eyes narrowed, flashing red. "Now, now, don't get me wrong," he said hastily, "I just thought you might like a few days' vacation."
The red was gone as if it had never been. "Oh, could I?" she breathed. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and her breath came faster. "Please?"
"I don't see why not, after all, you won't be able to use magic to get away, and I'm going to have you followed."
"Followed?" She seemed distinctly less pleased at that prospect.
"Don't let it ruin your fun, Cherry, pet. I'll give them orders not to bother you unless you're attacked or seem ready to leave the mountains. Do you promise you'll come back in . . . say . . . "
"A week."
Baslon laughed. "A week, then. I'd come with you, except I think that would ruin your fun. Besides, there are all these little problems that keep cropping up. Should I assume you don't want to hear about that?"
"Yes."
"Cherry, you are so easy to please. Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"
"I believe you have." Cherry's smile slipped. "Now let me go."
"All right, I won't compliment you." He moved away, then back as she nearly fell. "Cherry, I don't think . . . "
"You promised!"
"Very well. I'll make the necessary arrangements. You may leave in the morning. I expect you back in exactly one week."
Cherry struggled away, then made an awkward bow. "Thank you, my Lord."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Leave
She didn't walk away with Human. Cherry ran. Nor was Human the only other animal she brought with her. There were also a pair of mice perched on her right shoulder. And me, of course. Every question I asked Cherry and every reply I gave was repeated in thoughtful tones before she answered. It made her sound as if she were memorizing every word I said, although she did explain in silent words inside my head that it was to keep the followers from thinking there might be someone with her that she made it sound like she was talking to herself. Cherry did an awful lot of that, too. At least, I don't think Human, Krantraran, or Samaya answered. It made me very uneasy every time I heard the female mouse's name. It was as if Cherry were deliberately reminding me of hearing what I should not have.
"Shall we go attack the followers? What do you think?" She seemed to have gotten over the vervain remarkably quickly. Smiling down at her pets, Cherry cocked her head, listening. "Well, don't you have an opinion, Samaya?" she asked, lifting that mouse in front of her face. "It's two against one. Your choice could determine it." Samaya lifted her nose in the air. "If that happens, I'll climb up in a tree and drop down on them one by one. My vote counts for most. If you stay neutral, then Krantraran, Human and I will have an argument over it. If you join them, we keep walking. Well?"
There was a soft chirp, barely audible. Cherry sighed. "I guess we'll move on. Shall we visit Calinesti?"
"Go near a human village!" I exclaimed in horror.
"Go near a human village?" she repeated aggravatingly. "Why not? The followers can just surround it. We can't get away. So they can't object. Am I right?"
"Of course." I sighed.
"Vocalize," she hissed to Human. The horse obediently neighed. Cherry turned around. "And, you spies, no mind reading, or I'll turn half of you into legless cats and the rest into legless chipmunks!"
"That is not a very effective threat," I commented.
"That is not a very effective threat. I did grow up among humans, and my traditional threat was that of violence. Do you think I could have the lot executed?"
"You're the queen."
Her lips tightened and she didn't answer. After a while, she suggested a race and made it clear that she expected me to participate. The mice she sent on ahead to judge the outcome. "Go about a mile. You'll see a glowing red line in the air. Do you think we should invite the spies to join? No. We don't want to humiliate them. Ready, Human?" He whinnied. Cherry flashed a quick glance towards me.
"Yes."
"All right. Go!"
The first thing Cherry did was change into a doe. Next, she was off like one of her knives. I had a very slight lead while she took the trouble to change her shape, but was soon passed. I knew I hadn't a chance of catching up and tried to slow to a more leisurely pace, but discovered there was something pushing at me from behind and forcing me to keep up my starting pace. Nearly a mile ahead of the starting line was a glowing red line about four feet above the ground, just as Cherry said. As soon as I passed it, I felt my motion stop abruptly. One moment I was moving, the next moment I wasn't.
"Who won?"
"Who won, Krantraran? Human or me? I did. Calinesti is just ahead."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Kindness
The mice were safely hidden in Human's mane, but people still stared. Human was quite a large horse, and Cherry was quite a tall woman, even taking the greater size of the human race into question. Still, it was her coloring which would have made her stand out in any crowd. Cherry's hair was a bright, bright red, tied back in a tail with a piece of yarn and going down to her waist. Her skin was lighter, but too deep to be called pink. And only sirens have purple eyes. All this would have brought enough attention, but the direct stares were brought by her apparent solitariness and her man's clothing. The silence which followed us made me feel uncomfortable, although Cherry seemed not to hear it. She whistled jauntily, paused at a few stalls in the market, and bought three apples. I have no idea where she got the necklace she traded for them, although from the vendor's reaction, she was quite over paying him. His eyes instantly grew crafty, and his mournful tone said it was not enough. Cherry shot him a freezing look.
"I don't want to bargain. Be quiet."
Which instantly confirmed the probable rumors that she was some eccentric foreign noblewoman.
"I give it two months," she told Human as she walked back into the woods, holding an apple up to the stallion's nose. It took six seconds to disappear. Cherry just gave him the other two.
"Two months for what?" I asked.
"Two months for what? Until the rumors reach Bucharest. Then, depending on whether he is there or in England, my father will go into hysterics."
"You should respect your parents."
"I really should respect my parents, but you've heard my views on my mother. Father is a bit less silly and a bit less brave, although he loves me more, for some reason. This will give him hope, not upset him. It will be good for him to think I'm still alive."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Return
She returned to the castle in good time, but stayed just outside the gates in an ornery attempt to stay free.
"Cherry, it's useless. Why not just enter?"
"Nothing is useless," she snapped, turning to glare at the unseen watchers. The wide gates were open just enough for Human to be able to get through.
"You should go through," I said uneasily. "You did promise."
"I came back on time, didn't I? Now I'm tempted to leave again."
"You wouldn't!" I gasped, shocked at this direct disobedience. Bad enough to think of it, but what if she actually took it into her head to leave? Treason was a killing offense. I had no doubt in my mind the weres who attacked Cherry would be dead by now. Baslon wouldn't kill his wife, of course, but there were other forms of punishment she would find worse that he wouldn't mind so much.
It was well towards dawn when a vampire came and found her. Cherry looked about to refuse his invitation to enter, so I gave her a shove. To my surprise, I actually seemed to have effect on her. I didn't have any weight, but Cherry stumbled slightly towards the open gate. After that she kept moving.
"You're not planning on doing anything rash, are you?" I asked uneasily. It had been with many hurried words that I actually convinced her to actually keep her promise, and even then, the spies had sent out one representative to remind her of their duties. A reminder of Cherry's duties hadn't worked, to the nymph's obvious discomfort. A promise to turn around immediately and a hint of how long it took a cat to kill a mouse was what it took to get her to leave Cherry alone.
"Killing can be a very messy thing in the best of times, at least with my methods. I don't think violence will be quite justified in this situation, anyhow. I could always run for it, but having a thousand vampires hunting one is not the best form of entertainment," she had told that nymph.
I let her go ahead of me into her rooms, then whispered a quick thank you to whatever gods might have interfered to make Cherry change her mind.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Outrage
Cherry looked at Baslon curiously when he came early that day, but she grinned at her husband impudently when he asked her if she wanted to go for a ride. "Take a wild guess."
"Yes?" he asked hopefully.
"All right, I will." She stood up and created a little bouquet of red roses, then stared at them, shaking her head and muttering, "That's not right at all." Then she looked up and grinned again, handing them to Baslon. "Watch out for the thorns!" He took them carefully and set them aside without getting pricked. Cherry looked disappointed.
"Let's go." He grabbed her hand. Cherry tried to jerk it away, but couldn't.
"Where?" she asked as they went out the door. Her husband seemed to be in a hurry for some reason, although he was trying to conceal it. He was not walking that fast, but he was definitely not going slow, nor did he appear to have leisure to talk.
"How about visiting your mother?" He looked at her. "It might help if you created the illusion of being ladylike, say, if you wore a dress?"
"A dress?" There could not have been more horror in a human Christian's voice if Cherry had just told her or him she was part devil.
"To create an illusion," he repeated. "To save a lot of those elves shock."
"Oh, all right," she muttered grumpily. "What kind of dress?"
"A nice one, of course. Maybe white. What if you did up your hair, too?" She stared at him. "Just this once."
"What you're getting at," she said slowly, "is that I should look my absolute best and least comfortable?"
"Your best," he corrected. "As long as you're comfortable. I don't want you to be uncomfortable, Cherry, pet." The palace door was already open when they got to it. Cherry didn't seem to notice anything different, but I instinctively knew that something was going to be terribly wrong tonight.
There did not seem to be anything wrong as we approached my home tribe. There were lights and multi-colored fires, more towards the center, which meant there would be a celebration tonight. That was nothing unusual in the Mnerecros tribe. There were holidays sixteen times a season, and whenever the entire tribe changed locations or the queen felt in the mood for it we feasted.
Baslon glanced at Cherry circumspectly and rather nervously. There was something in this that Cherry would not like. Cherry had Human stop, looking curiously at the lights. She glanced at me and cocked her head towards my house. I nodded and went there, feeling my substance come back as soon as I was past the front door and shielded from the sight of any who might come prying about my sudden appearance. Then I went outside to see what the festivities were all about.
"Hi, Roumlie!" said my sister cheerfully, grabbing onto my arm. "You did come back! I knew you would."
"Of course, Gigea," I told her, trying to disentangle my sleeve. "Now tell me, what's going on?"
"You mean you don't know?" she asked in tone of such horror that several people turned to see what was the matter. I quickly shushed her, then looked around. It seemed much more crowded than was usual on a feast day, and I detected several non-elves. As a matter of fact, most of them were not elves. That was more than simply unusual. It bordered on being completely unique. There were never anyone other than elves and vampires in the home of the tribe.
"What are all these people here for?" I knew I was only getting second hand information, but I had to find out somehow.
She giggled. "You should know, since you spend so much time with the queen," she told me, delighting in the fact that she knew something that I did not. I worried about that. How had she known where I was all that time I was not at home? "But anyway, you'll see," said Gigea impishly, then went dancing away with a group of her friends. I sighed.
There was a commotion near her Majesty's tree, and with a pompous bellowing of a herald came the king and queen of the vampires. The queen of the elves put on her best smile and approached them. She made a lengthy, heartfelt speech, during which I caught myself yawning more than once, but I started as much as Cherry did when she congratulated them on their first year of successful marriage.
I felt very uneasy as to what Cherry would do. Apparently her husband did as well, because when I edged closer I could see that his hold on her hand was more than simply fond or to make the assemblage believe he was fond of her. It was a very tight grip that may have been painful to them both. The main reason seemed to be to keep her from bursting into an embarrassing tirade of how furious she was. Her jaw tightened, and her eyes glowed dangerously, but she held her tongue. I relaxed, but from Cherry's look, neither Baslon nor Queen Vrenkley had heard the last of this. Both of them were doing their best to preserve a good public appearance, which Cherry could destroy in seconds once she let go of her feelings. She would required careful watching for the entire night.
Once her Majesty's speech was over, Baslon made a short answering one, and the mass of observers turned their attention towards the food and entertainment. Once all attention was off them, Cherry turned towards the guilty parties and began a low voiced harangue.
"This is intolerable!" she hissed. "What makes you think I'll stand for this? I should just march right home!"
"What will your people think, dear?" asked her mother solicitously.
"Who cares? Why should I have to put up with being reminded of that stupid marriage every year?"
"Not every year, Cherry. Just this time, and then only every one hundred years."
"Then why can't I forget it permanently?"
"It's expected," they said together, as if that explained everything. Cherry glared at them both.
"In another hundred years, everyone will have all but forgotten I even exist. I'm never going to be seen like this again, if I have my way."
Baslon looked thoughtful, but didn't answer, so it was left to the mother to try to placate her daughter. The vampire shook his head, and then finally smiled. "I think I've got something that will satisfy us both," he said softly.
"What's that?" asked Cherry warily.
"You'll see. Now, could you be nice to the people, just this once? They'll expect us to dance together and with other people, so please try to accept a few." Cherry groaned.
I don't know if Cherry was more grateful or angry with me when I claimed her second dance. "It's just a formality, Cherry. Sometimes it pays to put up an appearance of not being anti-social."
"Appearances can be deceiving," she sneered.
"You're not completely anti-social, Cherry," I admonished her. The steps of the dance required that we separate, and when we came back together I was ready for my argument. "It won't be a deception, my lady cousin. What I want you to do is to not be so angry with everyone who comes near you tonight. Most of these people probably expect you to not love Baslon. They think it was a political move of your mother's. Don't show your hatred too openly, that's all."
"So I can express hatred as long as it isn't too intense?" she asked slyly.
"Indifference would be more appropriate." I spun her in a circle.
"What would you do if I stirred up rebellion among the subjects of the crown?"
I glanced at her, startled, then realized she was joking. "I would be forced to report it. That would be treason."
"So report." She refused to speak to me for the rest of the dance for reasons of her own. For the rest of the evening she wore a martyred expression as she was claimed by one partner after another.
Finally, near dawn, Queen Vrenkley informed Cherry that she was going to have to make a small speech. Her mouth dropped open, and she swayed slightly.
"I wouldn't advise fainting, Cherry, pet. Too many people are watching. I didn't know you got stage fright."
"I don't," she snapped. "I do not have any desire to tell ten million people how deliriously happy I am to be married to an idiotic slaver of a king!" The queen blinked, startled at her daughter's vehemence.
"You're exaggerating, dear. There are only a few thousand here."
"That's still too many."
"How would you get out of it?"
She hesitated, thinking, then began to flush. "I suppose I'll have to, won't I. All right, Mother, what do you advise I say to them?"
"Whatever comes to mind. Your husband will be speaking right before or right after you. I've taken the liberty of having a small gift for him made, from you, of course. His Majesty will have a similar one for you."
"Why can't he just leave me alone?"
"It's expected, dear. Now come along." Numbly, Cherry walked beside her mother. She was half pushed onto the elevated platform she would be speaking from just after her mother pressed a long box into her hand.
Baslon smiled at Cherry, took her hand, and bowed over it. "Queen Cherry," he said, speaking loudly enough that everyone could hear him but talking directly to Cherry, "on this day, as a commemoration of our union one year ago," Cherry visibly winced, "I would like to present you with this gift." He held up a covered object. "It is very old and has been famed among many of the races. It was forged near the beginning of the universe by the best metal smiths in one of the first fires." His eyes bored into hers, and she could not look away. "There is a legend that one who owns it will be our way towards complete peace and great prosperity, lasting to time unending. I would be honored if you would be so kind as to receive it." He deftly removed the cloth, revealing an elaborately worked circlet of gold, silver, rubies, diamonds, and amethysts. The metals were twisted together so they sparkled in the fire light, the gemstones cunningly arranged into sunbursts. There was an almost universal gasp from the crowd. Cherry looked at the crown with a curious expression. Baslon placed in lightly on Cherry's head.
Cherry took a deep breath, then smiled back at him easily. I relaxed slightly. "I would be glad to take this lovely present. And I would be pleased if you would take this from me. It is neither so ancient, valuable, or beautiful as yours, but simply a trifling memento of my affection." There was an an almost imperceptible pause before she said affection, but all in all the speech was very nicely done.
Cherry unwrapped the package her mother had given her, and brought out a long sword with jeweled hilt and scabbard. It was obviously purely ceremonial, not for fighting, but Cherry gripped the hilt as though she wished she could draw it and run Baslon through with it. Baslon took it with a smile and buckled the fancy belt around his waist. He then took her arm, and led her off the platform.
As soon as they were out of sight of the trees, Cherry changed back to her usual clothes with a snapping gesture, but she took the crown off again and looked at it. "Very pretty." She turned it over in her hands.
"You mean you like it?" Baslon asked hopefully.
"I wouldn't want to wear it," she replied a bit tartly, "but to look at, it is very nice." She wheeled Human around and let the stallion have his head back to the castle. Grateful for the time to myself, I went back home.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Storm
Cherry, more to somewhat appease Baslon's protectiveness and possessiveness than anything else, wore her new coronet the next time he came by. It had looked like a true queen's crown the night before, when Cherry had been looking her best. Now that Cherry was in her normal clothes and letting her hair curl freely, it looked more like a servant trying on the queen's crown. Not quite, though. After she figured out how to walk so it stayed on, Cherry still had that air of importance that would have made her noticeable even without her hair and height.
Baslon came in her rooms looking like a dog expecting a beating. When he only got a bright smile and a hastily caught set of jewels his look of relief was so comic that I almost laughed out loud. Frowning at it as though it had fallen on purpose, Cherry shoved the coronet at its giver.
"Here. You wear it."
Baslon shook his head and smiled. "No, Cherry, it's yours. It's supposed to give good luck to the owner."
Cherry grinned happily. "Good! Then maybe I'll manage to get away from you."
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Also, if given freely as a present, it is supposed to bring the giver and the receiver closer together."
She blinked, then scowled. "Oh." She thought about that for a moment. "Oh, well. I suppose I won't be able to rely on luck, then." She stood up and twitched back the window curtain, scowling at the faint afterglow of the sun. It would be a long night. Baslon sat down, watching her with amusement, then stood up again.
"Cherry. Come here."
She looked around. "Why?"
"Just come here. I want to see something." She walked back, and he stopped her from sitting down again, then had her stand right up against him as tall as she could, hugging her to keep her from stepping back. The top of her head was only a couple of inches below his. "You're growing up, pet. You're much taller than you were last year."
"Is that at all relevant?" she mumbled, squirming.
"It gives me a chance to know what a father feels like. Shall we go practice?" He glanced at the plain sword belt and sheath that hung in one corner of the room.
Cherry shrugged indifferently. The fire blazed up, making Cherry's hair momentarily shine brighter and Baslon step back. "Sure." She snagged the belt, draping it over her shoulder and trotting out the door. Baslon followed, and I brought up the rear. Cherry glanced behind at her husband, then grinned again. "Race you!"
Baslon looked uncertain, and rather martyred, but he obligingly took her up on her dare. Uncomfortably remembering a previous race, I quickly stopped, waiting until they were both safely several minutes out of sight, then began descending through the floors to the practice yards outside.
Cherry won again, and was watching Baslon carefully from underneath a tree. Both swords were in the dust, and apparently a draw had been called.
"I'm not an idiot," Cherry snarled as I came up.
"You do act like it from time to time," Baslon returned gently. "Most people would say that, at least. Most people would be honored."
The swords stirred in the dust as if they had a life of their own. "Come one step closer and you die. I am not most people."
"That is painfully obvious, Cherry. You are not only not most people, you do not even remotely resemble most living organisms." He picked the swords up and offered to give hers back. She shook her head.
"I don't kill with a weapon. I'd just drop it when I get mad enough."
"I promise I will not get you angry again tonight, Cherry. I will not have you angrier at me than you already are."
"Then keep your teeth away from me." Baslon jumped when the blade leaped from his hand to Cherry's of its own accord. "How good a swordsman are you?"
"Not that good, although I am better than some."
"That's not an answer," Cherry stated and flicked her sword towards his head. It was blocked and thrust to the side. "Care to make a wager? My freedom against . . . whatever you want?"
Baslon blinked, his eyes going wide, then quickly suppressed his initial reaction. "No."
"Afraid to loose?" she taunted.
"Yes," he replied gravely. "You."
She made an aggravated sound in the back of her throat, and then began a maniacal grinning. "Can you sing Baslon? I can. I can sing a very nice song if I want to." She laughed harshly, tossing her hair over her shoulders where it suddenly became tied back with a bit of thread. "And I want to. Should I do it? Should I sing to you?" First my cousin hopped on one foot, then on the other. I tapped her on the shoulder to try to catch her attention and was ignored.
Cherry broke out into a sort of half-song cried out in a garbled collection of languages with no real meaning when even someone who understood all the languages was listening. I certainly could not make anything of the words, but I fully understood the intentions. The wind seemed to have picked up. I could tell since the trees were swaying. Cherry's eyes were glowing, not red, but a violent purple. Her song had a different kind of power behind it this time, not a power calculated to take over a person's mind, but song now backed by the full power of a human scholar. Humans at their best were the strongest of the supernatural. It was lucky that they were so rarely at their best. Now it began to appear that Cherry was able to call on the full force of her heritage, and knew how to use it. Baslon flinched back from how bright her eyes were, but closed his own and stood his ground solidly.
"Stay out of my mind!" she shrieked, interrupting herself. The wind blew harder, bringing with it dark clouds to cover the previously bright stars, drops of water to fill the air and spatter against the ground and jagged lightening to replace their shining glory with flashes of brief, illuminating light. Except for those brief glares, soon all that could be seen were two fiery circles of violet.
"Cherry, if you don't control yourself, and do it now, we are both going to be in more trouble trouble than both of us together have ever been in our lives!" The wind howled in answer, and the rain began to turn to snow. "I have an obligation to fulfill, and by Obscrond and Mirange, if you do not stop, I am going to have to make you go to sleep! You are going to kill everything from the Black Sea to Hungary!"
"It's too late!" she growled, then shrieked again, "It's too late! You won't be able too, I've already turned it loose. It's up to the gods now, and I think they've decided to take the decision out of your hands!"
"A storm like this would make the gods take notice," he muttered. I had to strain to hear him over the howling wind. He was probably freezing, and I would have been too if I had been solid. The universe probably had not seen anything like that since the humans revolted, if then. "Cherry, we have to go in now," he finally realized when it began hailing. Whether he knew it or not, he had to have been almost as foolhardy as his wife to have stayed outside as long as he did. "Cherry?"
The gods had indeed taken the decision out of Baslon's hands. She was unconscious, and it took Baslon a moment of groping to find her again and pick her up. Then he turned around and hurried her back inside.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Price
How could you have done that?" Baslon demanded of his wife. "It's treason, and if anyone knew who had done that, they would be hammering for your head."
"Think I would care? Anything is better than living as a prisoner where all I do is provide distraction and amusement. I just called up a nice little thunderstorm, and it got a bit out of control."
"Cherry, that was not a little thunderstorm to begin with, nor did you loose your control a simple 'bit'. That was a full fledged disaster, and in half an hour I am going to be besieged by people who are homeless because of your temper!"
"Maybe you should have just left me alone in the first place! Why couldn't you have carried off some human who wouldn't have been able to survive properly and might even have been happy among all these vampires?"
"Humans around here, or even near Bucharest, are never so foolish as to go out so far alone into the woods, and especially don't let their children go out so far. It was pure luck that I even saw you in the first place. Then it was only a step or two away from collecting you." He blinked suddenly, looking as though he could have bitten his tongue for running away without him and his permission. Cherry grinned with satisfaction, storing Baslon's words away for later quotations. "I have a question," he said carefully. She shrugged and sat down on the hearth. "Should I apologize?"
"I don't think so."
"Are you sure you're all right?"
She muttered something under her breath. "I just lost my temper and got exhausted in the process. I am not sick. Can't you accept that?"
"I suppose so. But Cherry, if you ever need anything . . . ." She promptly opened her mouth to say 'Let me go.' "Anything as long as you don't get hurt or leave for over a week, I'll be glad to get it for you. I have to go now."
He turned and was out the door before she could think up a suitably cutting reply.
"Someday I will leave, though, mark me on that." She looked directly at me.
"Yesterday's storm was a bit excessive."
"It wasn't that bad." She began to cough and hack.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"Don't worry, Roumlie. It's just a cold, and I promise I'll eat my dinner and go to bed right away so it doesn't turn into laryngitis."
"Thank you, Cherry. You have no idea how much it distresses a healer to see a person sick."
"It wasn't that bad," she repeated again.
"Cherry, it almost leveled the mountains, and you call it not bad?"
"It was just a storm, and none of the lightening touched ground. Just think a moment, Roumlie. Think how much worse it could have been. This was child's play compared to what I could have done."
"You only barely got up in time to keep your husband from knowing how exhausted you really were."
"Just trust me, Roumlie. It could have been worse."
"You said you would eat," I reminded her.
It was just a whisper, and I probably was not meant to hear it as I unhurriedly ushered her into the dining room. "And next time it will be."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Enemy
The next time I was called to the castle, it was not to tend to Cherry's weakness or whims. The queen-mother had somehow taken ill, and required the services of a physician. A lesser vampire, a servant with little or no mind of his own, showed me to her resting place, a windowless room deep in the interior. I bowed nervously to her Highness. Her reputation was for ruthlessness, and I did not know just how far I should trust to my official capacity, especially if she should not get well within the precise amount of time she wanted to. The remarks it was said that she made in council about her successor, the present queen, were anything but favorable. Now that I saw her, looking just like her younger son but with a coldness to the eyes that I decided I did not like, I began wondering if it was possible that I should not leave this room alive.
"So you are the chief healer of my daughter-in-law's tribe," she said in a dusty whisper. I winced. If her real opinion was the same as her comments, that would get us off on the wrong track to start with. "That means you were at that ridiculous ceremony my son concocted for her." She snorted, and began coughing.
"If I might have some light for a preliminary examination," I suggested neutrally.
"Go right ahead." Permission given, I created a compact ball of light and proceeded to test for the cause of her illness. "That's what you are here for, isn't it? To make me better? Well, I'll tell you how to do that. Your young princess put a human's curse on me. She grew up among humans, and now she's no better than a human. All you need to do for me to have perfect health is to kill her." I blinked. Not only was she wrong about being cursed at all, she was wrong that a human's curse would end when the perpetrator's life had also ended.
"I was unaware that her Majesty possessed that much power," I said mildly. I simply knew she had more, but a great contempt for the incomplete human workings. I probably knew more on the subject of human magic than any one else, having made a nearly life long study of it.
"If you are ever called to serve upon that girl, you will be doing my son a great favor if you kill her. She has taken over his brain, corrupted it. She is controlling his mind as thoroughly as ever I have controlled a human's. If you would get rid of her, punish the murderer of my elder son, I will reward you richly, and my other son, with his mind cleared, will commend you highly."
Either she thought I was an idiot or she had never seen Cherry in public with Baslon. Now, satisfied that what I had been called here for was either a simple cold blown entirely out of proportion by my patients mind or an excuse to get someone alone where she could get a proper ally, I began trying to take my leave. "If it is a curse, then I had better not subscribe any medicine for alleviating the disease," I said indulgently. "I will see what I can do for your Majesty," it never hurt to flatter, "although I am only seldom invited to the castle. I will do my best and what is best for the world." This came out a bit more defiantly than I had intended, and I quickly modulated my voice to a soothing monotone. "I believe I have identified the curse placed upon your person, your Majesty. It will be painful for you when the present queen dies, so I would suggest you sleep as much as possible until you are well. This pain will only affect your mind, and if you are asleep, you will be unable to feel it."
"Yes, I will do that," she agreed, looking straight at me. I swallowed nervously and bowed again.
"If I may now take my leave, your Majesty. I must attend to your cure."
"Go, then. But remember your promise, young elf."
I would remember my promise. To do what was best for the world. And what was best for the world involved keeping the king fairly satisfied and unworried. If Baslon thought Cherry was in danger, he could well bring the whole planet to its knees trying to protect her.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Fight
Even with how secluded I had recently become, I heard the essence of the most recent gossip. Gigea made a special trip to my house just to inform me, as it especially affected our tribe. One of the higher ranked noblemen, an august personage, had made an attempt to assassinate the king in full sight of hundreds of witnesses. Queen Vrenkley instantly began trying to smooth things over. I did not bother telling Cherry about this, but it turned out she discovered it anyway.
A vampire entered her rooms and bowed to Cherry. "Your Majesty. His Majesty summons you to the throne room."
"Why?" she asked, irritably looking up from a book she had become engrossed in.
"I am not permitted to say. Only that you are to bring your sword and come to the throne room immediately."
That caught her interest. Tossing the book aside, where it vanished in mid air, she fetched her sword and buckled the belt around her waist. "Ready. Or close enough."
"Do you think something is wrong?" I asked, floating quicker than I would have liked. Cherry had a fast walk, and it made me dizzy.
"Possibly. Baslon may want me to be the one to kill those weres. Not likely, but possible." She whistled a short tune.
The entire assemblage began whispering the moment Cherry appeared. The queen appearing was reason enough for them to be shocked, but her unusual clothing and wearing a sword in the king's presence was more than enough to provide gossip for a month. Cherry ignored the herald and sauntered down the widening aisle between the people, making a strange half bow to Baslon when she reached the throne end of it. "Your Majesty." Her grin was pure mischief. She twisted the scabbard up behind her and caught it in both hands. "You summoned me?"
"Can't you take anything seriously?" I hissed a warning to her. Cherry ignored me.
"We summoned you," he agreed gravely. Cherry bit off a laugh. "First, we would like you to meet someone." King Baslon directed her attention to an elf under heavy guard but with nothing binding him. "One Duke Fodsaeg, a criminal guilty of high treason and attempted murder." Cherry nodded to the prisoner. He tried to take a step back.
"Stop smiling. You are scaring him unnecessarily." She just looked past me.
"He has been sentenced to death in the manner of his choosing. He wishes to die in combat with swords or hand to hand. If he wins, he has agreed to be banished to Silarret. You are in no danger. Are you willing to fight in either or both of these ways."
"Of course, your Majesty." All eyes turned towards the duke.
"I didn't say hand to hand," he complained. "I said with the things we were born with."
"Shedur is prohibited," said Baslon.
"Aside from magic, then. That's the way I want to fight."
"Clear a space!"
Several people were startled. "Here?" The king did not bother answering. Cherry discarded her sword, waiting for her opponent to finish warming up. It was a very large space made, and the courtiers stepped back even farther when she glanced around, still smiling. It was not a very threatening smile, either. It just indicated a danger in the area, one that might center around Cherry. No one had forgotten the incident with the sirens.
"Are you ready?" she asked the duke mildly when he entered the ring.
"Are you?" he sniffed haughtily.
Cherry laughed deep in her throat. Her grin stayed the same. She began rocking gently from side to side, and I caught a sense of waiting. She grinned at the prisoner. He charged her.
Cherry just stepped aside and briefly twisted his arm behind his back before letting go. She watched her opponent with an expression of curiosity, but the grin never left her face. When he tried to punch her in the face, she let out a fierce kick and savagely bit his arm at the same time. He yelled, and jerked his hand away. It caught on the collar of her shirt, and the material tore in a straight line down.
I doubt Cherry took it into consideration that it was an accident. Her grin disappeared completely and she leaped with a yell. She bit and tore like a savage beast, ignoring the kicking and hitting the other fellow delivered.
At last she emerged, covered with her own blood and the elf's. She breathed hard. For a moment the crowd was unable to realize the fight was over. When they did, the cheering started low and built its way up to a roar. I floated closer, aware that something was wrong. Baslon also stood up, looking over the crowd, but it was getting too thick for him to be able to reach her. He tried anyway. Cherry looked around her like a lost child rather than a triumphant victor. She held her shirt closed with both hands and was slightly huddled into herself.
"Cherry? Is something wrong?" I asked worriedly. She looked right through me, then went back to staring at the duke. No one else seemed to notice her chagrin. The queen had to force her way out at a half run. The closest door opened for her, and she ducked out of the noisy throne room.
"Are you all right, Cherry?" asked Baslon, shutting it softly. She jumped like a deer at the sound of a human's gun. Her arms tightened around her torso. "Cherry?"
She opened her mouth to answer. Something caught in her throat. She tried again. "I . . . killed. I . . . killed that person."
"Ah." It was noncommittal, slightly sympathetic, with a tentative touch for how far he could go. Baslon watched her expectantly, not saying anything.
"I didn't mean to," she whispered, her eyes wide. "It's my fault though. I know he would have died anyway, but I can't bear having another death on my hands."
"Another?" he stressed.
She smiled tremorously but couldn't keep it up. "Yes. The first time was just like this time. It wasn't his fault, but I lost my temper. Ranna was one of my favorites."
"Oh yes. Ranna. She was your pet mouse, right?"
"And then she got loose, and someone accidentally stepped on her, and I killed him. I suppose you'd say it wasn't my fault. I was six. He accidentally stepped on Ranna, and then he laughed about it. A lord, all high and mighty. So I pulled him off his horse and killed him. He was just a human, but so was my father, as far as I knew. There's proof I'm part phantom. My mind snaps whenever I get angry, and I kill someone."
Baslon patted her hair soothingly with one hand as he struggled out of his jacket with the other. "Here." First Cherry blinked, then she reached for it and shrugged it on. It fit her just about perfectly, save for being a bit tight across the chest. She shrugged uncomfortably once all the buttons were buttoned. Then she looked questioningly at Baslon, who shrugged guiltily, then grinned. It exactly matched Cherry's earlier one. "I don't want you thinking I was looking where I shouldn't be."
That knocked her out of her self pity like little else would have. She sat up straight with her mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
"Don't worry, Cherry. You moved too quickly for anyone else to see." He went back into the throne room in his shirtsleeves.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Insane
Exactly one month later, Baslon entered Cherry's rooms and put the package he carried under one arm on a convenient table. "How are you doing just now?"
Cherry looked up from her book irritably. Actually, at the moment it was two books, one a Japanese-Polish dictionary and the other a human Japanese novel. Learning this new language took more concentration than she usually expended on books, so she was more irritated than usual at the interruption.
Baslon walked over and squatted next to where Cherry lay stretched full length on her front on the floor, peeking at her books. His face made it plain that he had no idea what the writing on the floor represented.
"I was fine."
He ignored the sarcasm. "There's something for you. It came earlier today from the wraiths and specters."
She sighed and pushed both books away, getting up. "What is it?" He shrugged. She didn't even look at the seal on the letter, just broke it and read it. "They've decided on my title. 'Child Death,' in honor of that match back then."
Baslon cleared his throat uncomfortably.
Cherry grinned. "Don't worry. I don't hold it against you. They also sent me a banner and a seal. I would guess that's what is in there." It wasn't wrapped. The banner was firmly tied up, but it was obvious the main color was red. A very bright red, the color of Cherry's hair only less shiny. When she shook it out, it also became obvious that it was almost entirely red. The banner was probably, over all, meant to represent Cherry's appearance. The only symbol on it was the purple outline of a circle, the symbol of Amano. It was about one pace by three paces.
"Obscrond and Mirange help us if it's that obvious," said Baslon.
"What do you mean?"
"Your insanity. I mean . . . "
Cherry ignored him. "The seal's the same. Just a circle. I wonder if they're trying to say I'm like the Goddess, or if I am the Goddess."
Baslon shook his head. "They couldn't behave that sacrilegiously. No one would go that far."
"Then I must be like Amano, which is probably the better of the two."
"You're always a goddess to me."
"Shut up, Baslon."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Order
When I saw Michael, I followed him as far as I could. When he vanished, I immediately became extremely anxious. I could not find him again that night, and I reported as much to Cherry. She said nothing, just nodded. The next night, I saw him again in the same hall at the same time. At the same point, Michael vanished. Cherry smiled when I gave her this piece of news.
"That means he'll be there again tomorrow. I'm going to be altering your disguise somewhat. You'll be able to throw it off and put it back on at will."
"What!" I could not have possibly kept the outrage out of my voice.
Cherry laughed wickedly. "It's an experiment. I don't know if it will work. I can't try it on myself. You see, I'm giving you a power that you don't have and you should never even be able to learn, and you'll be able to use it perfectly. If it works, I can ruin everything."
I paused. "What?" I was now much more confused than I was outraged.
"I probably won't, but I could. I'll run you through the process a few times first. And then when you meet Michael, give him a message. I want him to come here. It's a good chance Baslon will have orders out for everyone to obey me, it should be enough just to tell him you're my messenger. If not, then I have another little spell that should work just fine."
"Don't you have any spells for finding?" I asked bitterly.
"Vampires can sense them too easily. Trust me, Roumlie, I've helped you as much as I could."
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Mind
Her first spell was effective the first time. I do not know how well the second one worked, because I did not have to use it. Michael came quite willingly at the command of the queen. The second time I tried the spell, to make myself invisible again, it did not work. I had to walk back in full view of anyone who might pass. Luckily, no one did. It was a remarkably empty castle for one with so many comings and goings.
Cherry took a deep breath and closed her eyes when we came through the door. "Hello, Michael."
"Your Majesty," he said expressionlessly.
"How are you doing?" she asked hesitantly.
"As well as can be expected."
"I mean, do you like being a vampire?"
"Your Majesty knows the answer to that."
"Would you prefer to be dead?" Cherry handed one of her cache of wooden daggers to him. He merely looked at it. "It is an option."
"I do not know."
"One moment." I do not know what, but something happened right then. Michael lost his expressionless look and his eyes widened. "Is that any better?"
"Cherry, what . . . ?"
"It's temporary. You are a vampire, and I temporarily gave you back your human personality."
"I'm a . . . " He weakly tried to draw a cross on his chest. "I'm not a . . . I thought I killed myself. I didn't mean to, though!" he added hurriedly.
Cherry waggled her finger at him. "You did commit suicide, and you did mean to. You should have used a wooden knife, though. Not just your willpower."
"What . . . "
She pointed at the dagger. "A wooden knife. A second opportunity. You have a week to decide. After that, you'll just continue being as you were."
He looked away. "I hate decisions. Why did you have to decide?"
"I had no choice. Now you have one. You don't have to continue being a mindless slave unless you want to, though why you should want to be without a personality is beyond me!"
"I don't. But Cherry, I wanted . . . "
"I know what you wanted," she snapped, her eyes flickering towards red. "The same thing Baslon wanted. It's not fair! It's not fair to you that you should love someone with my personality, it's not fair to me to have anyone love me. This is the last choice of your own you will ever have. After that, you'll either be dead or have your decisions made for you. The decision will be taken out of your hands if anyone ever finds you with me and conscious. Do you know what tortures they could do to you? Do you? It doesn't matter. Just go away and leave me alone!" There was a tearing sound as her nails dug into the upholstered chair. "Go, or I'll kill you myself!" She picked up a footstool and hurled it at the far wall. It splintered. "Just go!"
Michael backed away as Cherry systematically broke the legs of a round table one at a time, then broke the table into quarters. He was out the door and running down the hall when she started on her chair, and then went on to the rest of the furniture in the living room.
As soon as I thought Cherry had calmed down enough to be safe, I approached her. "Cherry, I thought you liked Michael. Just now, you scared him so much I doubt he'll ever stop running." She ignored me. "Cherry?" Still getting no response, I tapped her on her shoulder. To my great astonishment, my hand passed right through it! "Cherry? Cherry!" I stared at my hand, uncertain what to do about it. "Cherry! What happened? What did you do to me?"
She scowled at the air in front of her, then gave a start. "Roumlie, are you in the room?"
"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Now tell me what's wrong!"
"Roumlie, I can tell you're upset, but I can't read your mind in that state," she said after a moment. "You are completely imperceptible to me at the moment. Why don't you appear?"
In a flash I understood. The spell made me imperceptible to all but the one who cast it. The trouble I had was that I had never cast it before. Always before, Cherry had cast the spell, and I took it for granted that when it was in action, Cherry would be the only one who knew I even existed. Now I was the only one who knew I existed, or would be except for Cherry's mind reading abilities. I knew from experience just how strong that was, possibly the strongest in existence. No one else would ever be able to tell where I was. I roguishly moved so we were nose to nose and performed the spell again. It was with great satisfaction that I watched her jump and the expression on her face.
Cherry took a deep breath and closed her eyes, stepping backwards. She did not like having to do that. Her eyes were flicking red when she opened them. "Explain," she said shortly.
"I didn't like the way you treated him."
"Michael? It was the only way I could make sure he chose the way he wanted. Otherwise he would have chosen the way he thought I wanted. He'll have a week or so lucid, and then he'll start gradually changing back.
"I don't approve of that method."
"You liked Michael? But you didn't really know him, regardless of your stealing his memories." I started, wondering if she had done the same thing with me. She shrugged. "You altered what you found out to suit your interpretation. You didn't bother with feelings, just actions. I can't say that I really liked what you were trying to prove." Sucking my breath in, I decided that it would not do for me to try to engage in a word war with Cherry on that subject.
"Sorry."
"Good lad." She grinned and reached one red hand forward to ruffle my hair. I ducked impulsively, a reflex left over from my childhood. Cherry laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, Roumlie. No one's watching."
"I would prefer to keep as much of my dignity as possible."
"Most people would." One heel kicked at a piece of wood that had once been part of a chair. Her smile vanished. "Except me. What do you think Baslon will say?"
Clearing my throat uncomfortably, I shrugged. "Maybe he won't notice." She gave me a flat stare. The room was a disaster. It was impossible for anyone to not notice. "Couldn't you just . . . " I waved my hand vaguely.
"That's assuming I could find all the pieces." Tauntingly she waved a splintered stick under my nose.
"When you find all the pieces of your personality, let me know."
Her mute answering look was unreadable.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Threat
Roumlie, please!"
"Gigea, why don't you just go home!" I shouted in exasperation. The girl had been pleading, whining, wailing, and wheedling for the past half an hour, and I was beginning to get an awful headache.
"But Roumlie, I want to meet her. It would get me a head start later in life." I looked at my sister's pleading blue eyes and gave a tug on her red hair. I was only vaguely worried about her early obsession with politics. Her mother, although not mine, had been exactly the same way.
"No. Listen very carefully, Gigea. I am not going to introduce you to Queen Cherry. I have no intention of taking you to her rooms. I don't even want to help you get into the castle. Now go back home and leave me alone."
"But . . . "
"No."
"Loupobo!"
I froze, stomach slowly rolling over. My jaw dropped and I stared at Gigea. Where had she heard that? My steadying breath was not nearly as steadying as it might have been. Gigea smiled at me coyly, disengaging her hair from my fingers and flipping it over her shoulder, then placed herself directly in front of me with a decisively stubborn look on her face.
"I want you to ask her Majesty if you can introduce me to her. No more than that. Otherwise I'll get Mother after you." I still hesitated. "Loupobo," she added in a singsong voice. "Loupobo, Loupobo, Loupobo!"
"All right!" I shouted at her. "I'll ask! But let me tell you one thing, Gigea, if I ever catch you telling anyone what my true name is, or that I helped you get an interview with the queen, you are going to be eating your entrails for a year!"
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Interview
Cherry agreed. Her exact words were, "Another cousin? I must meet her. Have you any more relatives?" She finished off with a quote from her book of Japanese. I considered the best alternatives for a moment, than shrugged incomprehension.
It was early in the day as I led Gigea through a small gate that was often overlooked and not very heavily locked to the halls of the castle to Cherry's apartments, giving her last minute survival details. "Call her Cherry. Don't address her as Queen Cherry, don't call her your Majesty or your Highness, or Princess. She doesn't like some titles, and others wouldn't be proper. But otherwise be as polite as possible without being too obvious about it. If her eyes start turning red, back away. Get out of the room if you can, otherwise get behind something hard to move or break. You can show off if you want, but only so you're prepared to be bettered in it."
"Roumlie, you're contradicting everything Mother said." She peered up at me from beneath a wreath of daisies. My sister was wearing her best blue dress for the occasion. I did not know what Cherry would think about other people dressing up. Her main complaint seemed to be merely in having herself dressed up.
"Mother doesn't know Cherry. I do. And whatever you do, don't refer to her husband! You might as well dig your grave as that."
"Don't worry, Roumlie. I know how to behave. Goodness, you're getting more like Papa everyday."
I hoped she did. In the meantime, there was not much I could do other than introduce them. I opened the first door, passed through the dining room followed by Gigea, then opened the door to the living room. It was an unusual suite that way, with the dining room first. I didn't know why it was arranged that way. "Cherry?"
"Mm-hmm?" She looked up from her book.
"You wanted to meet my sister. Gigea. She's here now."
"Right!" The book disappeared. "Come in. Both of you."
Gigea walked in ahead of me and made a quick curtsy. "Am I to call you Cherry?"
Cherry grinned, glancing at me. I nodded. Yes, I had told her that. "Cherry, or any translation from the English word. Have a seat."
"Thank you." Gigea skipped lightly over to a chair and sat down in it.
It immediately collapsed. I jumped, then hurried over to help her up, glaring accusingly at Cherry. She studied the floor industriously over steepled hands. "Might I suggest testing the given chair for stability before putting your full weight in it?" Gigea colored. I supposed she realized she wasn't making that good an impression. She approached another chair and carefully sat, relaxing when it remained whole.
"You must get bored, being in here all day," commented Gigea. "Could we go outside, perhaps?"
Cherry's eyes lit up. "I think that would be a very satisfactory outing. What about you, Roumlie?"
"It's still morning," I said in agreement. Night would bring a jealously possessive husband, but as long as it was daytime, Cherry was free to do what she could.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Outside
Cherry cheerfully levitated both of us right over the high main gate, a giant thing made out of heavy layers of wood and iron with a complicated set of mechanisms to work it. Cherry waved extravagantly at the woods nearby, the home of the Mnerecros elves. "An indication of how close religion and politics are even when no humans participate." The center of religion and the center of politics were literally close to each other, but they in fact rarely interfered with each other. Our tribe being the highest spiritual leader had nothing to do with being the second highest politically. The queen strolled forward a few steps and stopped, absently kicking a stone over the edge of the cliff the castle was built on top of. "Long way down." Gigea nodded uncertainly, peeking over. It was some thousand feet to the ground. "What would happen if I . . . ?" She held one foot out over the edge, balancing precariously on the heel of one boot.
Gigea opened her mouth to reply, then closed it and looked back at the wall. "Nothing, I suppose. At least, nothing of import."
"But if I didn't do anything about it?"
"Then I suppose you would die."
"Possibly." Cherry laughed. "Do you think it would be worth a try?"
Gigea looked helplessly at me. I suppose this wasn't at all like she had assumed it would be. Cherry was very good at unnerving those around her. "Cherry, my advice would be to stay away from the edge of the cliff until you're ready to behave." Gigea blinked, startled.
"Yes, sir!" Cherry made a sketchy bow and salute. I shook my head ruefully. "Gigea, do you like flowers?"
"Yes, Cherry, I do," responded Gigea carefully.
Cherry grinned, looking at the air just above Gigea's head. "Good. Watch." After a moment, the spot Cherry was looking at began to shimmer with light, and then Gigea was suddenly swimming in flowers of all kinds. I quickly rushed to help dig my sister out, then turned to my cousin.
"You shouldn't do that."
"It keeps the conversation away from politics." She took Gigea's hand and shook it. "I'm sorry if I caused you any discomfort."
She nodded. "I'm all right."
"Good girl." Cherry picked up a flower, started to speak, then stared at it. "What an unusual color."
I stared at the flower too, then shuddered with revulsion. The bright, vivid orange and brilliant blue plant with flaring petals and curving leaves which Cherry held in her hands was all but extinct, and the world would have been better if it had been. It was an evil omen of death, extremely poisonous when eaten, and often a carrier of horrid diseases. With utter certainty, I suddenly knew that my time had come.
Cherry looked at it closer, sniffed it, then handed it to me. I dropped it quickly. "I'll give you a present to apologize," she told my sister, gesturing to the mess of other, safer flowers that surrounded them. "What would you like me to present you with?" Her tone made it clear that she intended to have an answer other than a polite, "No, that's all right. I don't need anything."
Gigea glanced quickly at me. I ignored her. Let her deal with this herself. Besides, I was too occupied with that awful thing. I glared at the flower again with revulsion. Vaguely, I heard Gigea ask for a moment to think it over, then ask for an important title of some kind.
"All right. Give me a second to think it over." Cherry whistled a short tune, then brightened. "How would you like to be the queen of the supernatural's representative in the elven tribe of Mnerecros?"
"What's that?"
"It means that whenever I want something changed, I'll send word to you, and you'll try to get it done. Would you like that?"
"Yes!" Cherry smiled at her, but when she turned away, there was an expression of regret on her face.
Just before I took Gigea back home, I requested permission to not come back. I was neglecting my duties to my home, needed some solitude, and was possibly letting people die. I received my request.
That night, the coughing began.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Illness
I mixed a concoction that would still the incessant coughing that racked my lungs and would put a bit of color in my face. I had begun to take it regularly a bit more often than was safe so I could see patients. Today, though, I had an royal command to appear at the palace. Instinctively, I knew I could not show any weakness to Cherry. I did not know why, but I knew I couldn't. My time had almost come.
I bowed a bit unsteadily to Baslon, trying to keep it from showing. He nodded in the direction of Cherry's room, not speaking. I followed him up.
It was the same disease I had. Her cheeks were pale for her, and she had no fever, but she couldn't seem to stop coughing, and she was too weak to protest being kept in bed. I went through a quick examination, although it wasn't really necessary. All she needed was the same thing I was using in smaller doses.
After her coughing stopped and she was looking a bit better, her very worried husband finally left. Cherry promptly opened her eyes.
"I was right, wasn't I?"
"Excuse me?"
"What I said when we first met. You are older than me. Much older than me. How old are you?"
I looked down at my hands. At my age, they should have been badly wrinkled, even though I was an elf. "I'm not sure."
"Gigea." It was a question.
"It's awkward. My father's first wife died, and he took another one. She did the same thing after he died. It was a chain of about twelve deaths, and Gigea isn't related to me at all."
"So you're my cousin, and she's not."
"I didn't want to bring it up. But her mother is distantly related to your mother."
"So she's still my cousin."
"And I'm still her brother. Regardless. As to the age . . . I'd say I was born about seven thousand years ago." She made a low whistle. "I should have killed myself long ago, but I couldn't let go of life. And you shouldn't, not yet. Were you thinking of it?"
"Not really," she said guiltily, her eyes flickering to the chest she kept her wooden and metal swords and daggers in. Meaning only as a passing thought, but she had been considering it from time to time.
"Look, I know you hate your husband, or you say you do, but there are better ways to avoid him. Running away might be best in your case."
"Running away." She coughed, then stifled it. "Why would I run away?"
"There's no real reason. I think Baslon might just wait forever. He's a good man."
"A good man who forced me to marry him."
"I think it took him only from that marriage until he induced Michael to kill himself to grow up. He's a good man. Not a very good boy, but a good man."
"I wish you'd stop saying that."
"Of course."
"Are you dying?"
I laughed. "That's blunt enough. Yes, I believe I am. I've lived long enough to suit me, and now it's time to stop. I don't want to, but I'll probably have to."
"That flower. The pretty orange and blue petals that I gave you. It's what caused both of our diseases, isn't it? Did I kill you?"
"The onama is dangerous and it can be deadly, yes. I would say that you killed me, but not by giving me the flower. I think I was born only to get you through a few years of your life. You have a great future ahead of you, Cherry."
She groaned with extreme disgust. "Oh, bother politics!"
"You don't have any proof that it will be about politics. You should study them anyway, just in case. But I won't be around to see it. In a few months you'll do something to shake the world, but in a few days, I'll be dead. My death will be a signal for you to begin preparing yourself."
"Philosophic discussion on the nature of death. How much more morbid can it get?"
"Oh, am I boring you? I am sorry, Cherry. Would you prefer that I changed the subject?" She shrugged. "Don't you care about anything, Cherry."
"Human."
"And by that, perhaps you mean anything that is not supernatural? You would not care about anything more advanced than a chimpanzee."
"Possibly."
"You're a good girl."
"Am I not grown up, then?"
I hesitated a moment, only half understanding what she meant. When I did I answered her slowly. "No . . . I don't think you are. I don't think you ever will be. You just haven't enough a sense of responsibility, even of responsibility to yourself. No one who is so negligent of their own safety could ever be considered grown up." Cherry nodded, smiling.
"Good. As long as everyone sees me as a child, I'll be left alone."
I failed to see in what way that was good, but I was likely needed elsewhere soon. "I should go now. Is there anything else you need?"
"No, Roumlie. I hope you're comfortable when you die."
"You don't seem too distressed about it."
"No. I understand death. I hate death when I am the cause. It's happened twice so far, and will happen again. 'Death is death, no matter how you look at it,' but I have too many different perspectives to listen to that old saying. I've lost too many people to death, too many pets for it to matter. I just don't like being the cause."
"As long as you remember that, you'll remain a good person." She looked at me with a blank face. "I'll have to call Baslon back in when I leave."
"Whatever you say."
"I thank you for your well wishing."
She shrugged.
When I left the room, Baslon was being very attentive of his wife. Cherry had fallen asleep.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Future
I have everything in my little house in proper order. It is time to begin waiting. The disease would have killed me eventually, I know that, but I also know that what is killing me just now is the medicine, the overdose I had taken to continue as a living being instead of progressively becoming an invalid. It will be less than an hour before my consciousness ceases to exist. I know the symptoms well enough to know that.
It would make too much trouble for Cherry if I were to deed all my belongings to her. Therefore, they are going to Gigea. But I have a request that this manuscript will go into the palace library. It will probably be granted. In the days of the old king, such requests were common, to have a work of art or a creation or invention of some kind displayed in a certain place.
I am an elf, but I am also partly a siren, and partly a human. It was to my human side that I owed my skill as a healer. The trained humans have always made the best healers. Unfortunately, so few humans are now trained, they might as well be nonexistent.
It was to my human side that I now turned. Not to heal, but to foretell. Only humans, angels, and poltergeists could see the future, and only humans saw it as it would happen, whether they will or nay. The other species still had an element of doubt in their viewing. All I needed was a silver bowl full of water. I placed the bowl on a little stand and bent over it, staring into its depths. Perhaps Cherry will take advice augmented by age, death, and magic. Perhaps it will help her later in life. One could only hope.
I had known the queen of the world would be important to more than just the world. She would be vital to the continuing of all the races throughout the unexplored universe. My intermingling of the times now informed me that she must be kept ignorant of exactly how this would be, but Cherry must not break. If her will even once broke, once disintegrated to give more than she was willing to give, all must die. If she were to converse with the gods, though, as it seemed she would, it would be very difficult not to do otherwise. Anyone would be reduced to a shuddering wreck when confronted by a god. Cherry must not, and that was the most which I could warn her against.
I write this all down diligently in my book. I know Cherry's curiosity will compel her to read it. This is the most that I can do. If the races are to survive, not just the races of supernatural, but all living beings, plants and animals, Cherry must follow through with where life takes her. If they survive, then I will consider myself well compensated for having to put up with her. Or I would, if I thought I myself would survive long enough to see it. Now is the time. A few more minutes is all I have left. I will put my papers together, with my last will on top. There is now nothing left to do but wait.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
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