But these shades that haunted the emptiness had proven even more difficult to save. Most of the ones who had crossed the threshold were not ones that we’d managed to coax into salvation, but those who hadn’t been given a choice one way or another; the power that surged from the Aetherstone a month ago had fallen over this area with little direction or restraint, thrusting all the shades it overtook violently back into life—or into the beginnings of life, at least.
The long-term effects of this violent reawakening remained to be seen.
Nevertheless, we carried on and hoped for the best. This western edge was where we’d decided to purposefully build out from. Over the past few weeks, we’d worked with revived beings and the soldiers we’d stationed here, laying the foundations of a proper base camp—a point from which all our future revival might expand.
But as I stood there watching the reborn shuffle through the half-built structures, toiling among the dirt, so many of them wearing oddly vacant and haunted expressions…
Well, I could almost understand the ones still in the dark and their reluctance to step across the threshold.
They might have been ghosts, but I imagined there was a certain blissfulness that came with that empty existence.
“I expected the perimeter to be wider,” said King Marius, pulling his stallion up between my brother and me. “All the talk of revival and salvation was somewhat exaggerated, wasn’t it?”
My brother didn’t take the bait. All he said was, “It’s certainly a slow process, bringing an entire world back to life.”
Marius snorted. “It’s that word—entire—that concerns me.”
Bastian ran a soothing hand along his stallion’s neck as it stomped its hooves. “Why don’t you tell me your exact concerns, Marius?”
Not for the first time, I admired my brother’s patience.
“We’re stretched too thin here, Bastian,” growled Marius. “You must be able to see that.” He gestured out at the expanse of grey beyond the revived zone before casting me a quick, disapproving look. “If our Shadow Vaelora here cannot expand this effort into something greater, there is no hope of rebuilding anything resembling a proper empire.Circling inward, as you suggested last night, will not be enough. I shudder to think about the sacrifices that will have to be made.”
Despite the words, he didn’t appear rattled by the idea of sacrificesat all.
“You shouldn’t have told so many people of your plans, or invited them to have a say in this reawakening,” he went on. “Now they’ve all descended upon your palace like hungry wolves, each with their hand out. And what will happen when you run out of magic to feed their ravenous appetites?”
“Should I have sent word only to you, then?” Bastian asked.
Marius smiled without warmth. “You could have honored the long-held alliance between our courts. That would have been a start.”
“Nearly everything else in this world is undergoing a process of death and rebirth,” I interjected, unable to keep quiet any longer. “Why would you assume our old alliances wouldn’t be subject to change as well?”
“I wouldn’t expectyouto understand the loyalties and alliances of this realm,” he said, casting me another disdainfullook. “As I understand it, you spent most of your life playing princess in the world Above while this one rotted.”
“Yes.” I gritted my teeth in a smile. “And now that princess is a queen, and if you want yourrottenkingdom to stand any chance of revival, I’d choose your words and actions very carefully around me.”
Marius laughed, bitter and brief. “A queen with no crown, ruling over a kingdom with more ghosts than people. You’ll have to forgive me for not rushing to bow down before you.”
“She is the destined Queen of Rivenholt whether you choose to kneel before her or not,” Bastian said, somehow still maintaining his calm.
Marius laughed again. But then he seemed to be calculating his odds, his eyes darting between my brother and me. He kept silent, though the look he gave me was enough to make me want to reach for the dagger resting against my back.
Phantom bristled beneath me, his tolerance for this man clearly reaching its limit.
But I was slowly getting better at biting my tongue and choosing my battles, so I resisted the urge to grab my dagger. I merely tightened my grip on Phantom’s mane and looked back to the distant shades—though I continued to watch Marius out of the corner of my eye.
“Tell me the truth of it, Regent,” he said, turning his shrewd gaze back to my brother. “There is noentireworldin your plans, is there? How small do you really intend to keep this oasis of rebirth? And with Rivenholt remaining in the middle, I presume. What a powerful centerpiece it will become, hm?”
“My plans are constantly evolving, as would the plans of any decent leader,” Bastian said, his tone uncharacteristically cold.
The three of us stood, studying our surroundings, for several minutes more before the Drynland king said, “Howdecentthe two of you are remains to be seen, I suppose.”
With this, he pulled his horse in an about-face and trotted off to observe the rows of various, freshly-planted crops in the distance.
Phantom’s voice was in my head a moment later. (I should rip his chest open for speaking about you the way he did.)
I exhaled slowly through my nose. “I’m not sure that would solve anything.”
