“He’s still alive, then?” Before she can answer, I cut in, “Because they’ve been used recently.”
There is another pause, and I wonder whether I’m dropping news, or have stepped over a line that will get me put on one of those slabs.
“Given the extenuating circumstances with my officer,” the Queen continues, “I believe I shall forgive your offense. From one woman to another, I too would have killed him.”
I close my eyes in relief. “Thank you.”
There’s another beat of silence. “You have been through quite a trial since last we met.”
Pulling at some of the cobwebs in my hair, I shrug. “‘Trial.’ That’s one word for it—”
“One might consider accusing you of possessing the ruby all along, and then trading it for the life of your husband only after you both found yourself in an untenable situation. But given your… obvious condition… it wouldbe impossible to dispute that you fought for what was taken from me by a common thief a long time ago.”
“Was it really yours? Or did you do the taking first.”
“Watch yourself.” And yet there’s a subtle mirth threading her tone.
“Well.” I shrug. “The thief did not survive very long after the extraction. Trust me.”
“Oh? And how do you think he was dispatched unto his grave.”
“I believe it was a very sticky and binding end, Your Majesty.”
A laugh ripples down to me. “Good. I hope he suffered. Now tell me exactly what you did.”
The story spools out, not unlike the webs, and when I finish recounting everything, from our stay at the Outpost, to the breaking through the Crystal Gate, to the wash of red light that saved Merc and me originally, there’s a very long period of quiet.
“I knew it was there,” the Queen remarks. “But that gate is not something I am prepared to breach with my own men. Yet you were able to triumph, by yourself.”
“I have a good horse.”
Another burst of laughter. “You do. And you came all this way just to bring me that crown?”
“Yes.” I hold up the circlet of black crystals. “This is yours.”
“According to whom.”
“I… it was what I was told.”
That voice becomes a strident demand. “By whom.”
I clear my throat, and edit part of the story, just so there is a chance I’ll be believed. “My mother. And before you ask who she is, I can’t answer that. The man who’s tolerated me my entire life while I lived under his stairs said that I was to take this to you because that is what my mother intended all along.”
The silence is long, so long, I would think she’s left if I couldn’t see her profile on the other side of the mesh. “Do you know what you are holding there?”
“A crown of war and shadow?”
Another period of quiet. “It is not mine. I have my crown, and now that you’ve returned my ruby, what has been missing is no longer lost.”
I lower my arms. Return the circlet to its padded seat.
“Please. Listen to me.” I suddenly feel cold down to my bones, though certainly it’s a mild temperature in here. “Demons are escaping the Fulcrum because it’s been contaminated. I’ve seen the dark bands myself, and your own advisor said that you’re finding dead cattle after dark on your lands. The sameis true for the Outpost and my little village, which is far, far north from here. This means there are a lot of them, and they’re spreading out.”
I don’t care whether or not she takes the crown. I just want this woman and her army to fight for us.
“Anathos needs you,” I say urgently, an energy, a presence, entering me as if from somewhere far above me. Though the voice is my own, the words come from a different entity: “If we do not fight, the Dark King will return, and a new era will begin, the likes of which even history will find unbearable. Come with me to the north. Prosperitus has also resources with which to battle. If you join with them, we have a chance to—”
“No.”
