Bone War (21 page)

“That will do,” Kalessa said. “I eat many interesting things now that I am a wyrm, but this turns even my stomach.”

Vesha nodded. “But it becomes worse. No magic will heal—”

Here, Danr and Aisa traded glances.

“—but the right magic can create a . . . copy. Theoretically. If you have a piece of something that was once alive,
you could grow an entire new being from it, like a seed sprouting into a tree. A hand or a leg . . .”

She trailed off and looked a little guilty.

“Do not halt on our account,” Kalessa said grimly. “We know what happened here.”

“It could grow into a whole person,” Vesha finished.

“The Fae do not possess such magic,” Aisa objected. “The queen does not possess such magic. Ranadar reminded us. She and other Fae can manipulate the mind and the Twist. Not the flesh.”

“But Gwylph has the power of a Gardener,” Danr said, jaw tight. “And the candle wax man Talfi saw could have been a badly done first job, yeah? She's practicing. On living beings.”

“She won't stop at Balsia,” Vesha said. “Once she has Balsia, she'll take the rest of the world. Except this foul magic is forbidden for a reason. It pollutes Ashkame itself, and if she's creating an entire army of flesh golems, she could easily poison the entire Great Tree.”

“We are aware of that problem,” Aisa put in. “But if it is true, that Gwylph is creating an army of . . . false Talfis, the big question is, where is she getting the material?”

“Material,” Danr repeated.

“Ranadar said she needs a piece of Talfi to grow these flesh golems. Remember? So where did she get it? That was the main reason we decided she was not behind this.”

And Danr remembered. He remembered watching the pain on Talfi's face as Ranadar's father, King Vamath, ran him through with a spear. And he remembered the blood pooling scarlet on the throne room floor. A cold feeling stole over him.

“Talfi died in Alfhame,” he said. “He left material behind. He left his blood.”

Kalessa sucked in a breath. “That is true.”

“It would be enough.” Aisa let out a long breath and gestured at the vault of dead fairies. “All of this and more because the Fae and Stane possess Talfi's blood and bone.”

Kalessa couldn't keep still any longer. “I want to know what is happening in Xaron. Will your map tell me?”

Vesha waved her hand through the map, and it vanished. “Alfhame stands between Glumenhame and Xaron, and I can't see that far. In any case, our first priority is to get the Bone Sword back.”

“What about my people?” Kalessa demanded, and Danr looked away, unable to meet her eyes. “My Nest? My family? The Fae must have attacked them in order to get that Vik-sucking box.”

“If that happened,” Vesha said, “there's nothing we can do to change it. I'm very sorry to be cold, Lady Kalessa, and I'm sorry this happened, but we have a bigger concern. The world—”

“You were not so concerned about the world a moment ago,” Kalessa snarled. “You wanted to keep the Sword for yourself.”

“All right, all right.” Danr forced himself to step between them. “We don't have time to argue. Aunt Vesha, can you Twist us to Alfhame? Or . . . Xaron?”

Vesha thought a long, long moment. “It wouldn't be safe. I accidentally alerted Gwylph to my presence just now, so she'll be watching for me and the other trollwives. We might be able to raise the power to Twist you there, but if Gwylph intercepts the Twist—and believe me, it would be easy for her—she could tear you to pieces in a blink.”

Danr glanced at the fairy leg lying on the floor and shuddered. “Then we'll have to run for it.”

“We can go north,” Kalessa said firmly. “Up and around Alfhame, then south through Xaron to the southern coast, which we can follow to the Sand River. That will actually save us time.”

“How?” Aisa asked. “It is many miles longer.”

“Balsia is wooded, and there we must follow meandering roads,” Kalessa pointed out. “Also, people have attacked us for being strangers. These things slow us down. Xaron is grassland. We can travel in a fast, straight line,
and no one will hinder wyrm-riders. Along the way, we can also find out what happened to my Nest.”

“Very well,” said Vesha.

“And what will the Queen of the Stane be doing to help?” Aisa asked pointedly.

“If Gwylph is planning to invade Balsia with this army of flesh, Glumenhame won't be far behind,” Vesha said. “I will have to raise my armies once again, though we're scattered far these days. The trouble is always the same with us—we can't do anything aboveground during the day. But we may have a way to deal with that. I just need to have a word with the giants and the dwarfs.”

“What kind of word?” Danr asked.

Vesha gave a thin-lipped smile. “Dig.”

T
he sun shone golden in Queen Gwlph's hair and sparkled off her perfect green gown. “My darling boy,” she said in her low, musical voice. “I am so glad to have found you.”

“Mother,” Ranadar said. “What are—”

“You better not have hurt Mrs. Farley,” Talfi interrupted sharply.

“And what will you do if I have?” Gwylph countered with a raised eyebrow. “I am hundreds of miles away.”

“I'd tell you to fuck yourself and the horse you rode in on,” Talfi said blandly, “but I can tell you already have.”

“Now, look, you little—”

“What are you going to do?” Talfi interrupted. “I am hundreds of miles away.”

“Mother,” Ranadar said, “what do you want? And be aware that if you want something, hurting my landlady is not the best way to persuade me.”

“I know how much you care about your pets,” Gwylph said. “It is good for you to keep a hobby, and they might learn something from you.”

“Am I being insulted?” Talfi said. He clutched dramatically at his heart. “The Nine! Whatever will I do? Oh, wait—I'll just imprison a Gardener, use her power to
create some flesh golems, invade Balsia, and threaten to destroy the world so I can take the Gardener's place. That'll make me feel better! Afterward I can go back to my horse brothel and wear out a few stallions.”

Gwylph pointed to Other Talfi. “You. Hit him.”

Lightning quick, Other Talfi backhanded Talfi across the face. Pain cracked. His head snapped back and he stumbled. Blood trickled from his nose.

“Again,” Gwylph said, and Other Talfi punched Talfi in the chest. Talfi's feet left the ground and he landed more than a yard away. More pain exploded through Talfi as he hit the unforgiving cobblestones. Other Talfi's expression remained flat as a stone. He raised his fist again.

“Stop!” Ranadar ordered in a shaky voice. Other Talfi hesitated.

“The golem will obey only me,” Gwylph said. “I could order him to kill, but from what I hear, your pet would only recover. So perhaps a good beating would be more in order.”

“Stop it, Mother!” Ranadar said again, trying to move between Other Talfi and Talfi, who panted on hands and knees on the ground. The awful pain pounded at his back and ribs and face like a thousand dwarfs with hot hammers. Other Talfi backed up a step. “What do you want?”

“This is just a demonstration, my son,” Gwylph said in her low, fluid voice. “The flesh golems obey me fully. They will even destroy their First, as they like to call him.”

Still panting, Talfi pushed himself upright on hard, unyielding stones. The city closed in around him, laughing at him. Hot sunlight poured down on his back, uncaring and cruel. The queen gave him a mocking smile, and his fists clenched to hit her, even though he knew it would only hurt Mrs. Farley. A growing resentment bloomed inside him like a black rose. The world was kicking him around, and no one seemed to care. His eyes grew hot and his ears rang.

“Do you have something to say, little
regi
boy?” Gwylph said pleasantly.

Talfi glowered at her. A thousand demons clawed anger inside him. Every slight, every injury screamed to be let out. But he kept silent.

“I have seeded this human city with hundreds of flesh golems now, my son,” the queen said as if Talfi suddenly weren't there, and that made the heat behind his eyes grow even hotter. “You have just seen what one of them can do, how fast they can move, how hard they can hit. Now think of an army of them.”

“What are you going to do, Mother?” Ranadar asked evenly.

She raised a perfect eyebrow. “You already know that. We will crush Balsia and take it for our own. Once we have the city and its resources, we will conquer the Stane again, as is proper. The flesh golems will destroy them easily—my flesh golems can hunt the Stane during the day, and they do not mind iron in the slightest. The Fae will rule.”

“Why are you telling me this, Mother?” Ranadar said. “You have to know I will tell the Balsian prince. He is already hunting down your flesh golems.”

“Is he? Goodness, I had never guessed.” Gwylph laughed, a delightful, musical laugh that Talfi was forced to find adorable, even while his ribs ached from Other Talfi's punch, and that brought up another black wash of anger. He loved the queen even while he knew she was manipulating him with magic. He wanted Ranadar to breathe on him and dispel the glamour as he had done back at the wyrm farm, but Ranadar should have known to do it without his asking, and so Talfi gritted his teeth and tried not to see the queen as so lovely on his own, and resented that Ranadar wasn't helping him. Other Talfi, meanwhile, kept his eyes on the queen, utterly ignoring everything else around him.

“You
want
the prince to arrest the flesh golems?” Ranadar said guardedly. “What are you up to, Mother? What do you really want?”

Here, Gwylph's face softened like honeyed butter, and
Talfi wanted nothing more than to cast himself at her feet and listen to her speak. Talfi concentrated on the dull hammers thumping across his back and chest to keep the illusion at bay. Why wasn't Ranadar doing anything about it?

“I want you to come home, my son,” Gwylph said with a note of pleading. “Leave before war strikes the city around you. Leave, or I will put all your pets to the sword. Return to Alfhame where it is safe. We will welcome you. I never wanted you to leave us.” A single, diamond tear slipped down her cheek. “I love you. Come home, or I will destroy the humans.”

The sun's heat vanished and every ache on Talfi's body stood out in a hot lump. He stared at Gwylph. Was it true? The queen was willing to slaughter hundreds, thousands of people just to bring Ranadar back to Alfhame? One street over, shouts from a passing group of children came to him. If Ranadar didn't return, those children and their parents would be dead in a few days, and they had no idea. Talfi felt sick. He tried to catch Ranadar's eye, but Ranadar remained focused on his mother. This horrific conversation was growing worse and worse. Talking with Death was more pleasant. In desperation, Talfi plunged a hand into his pocket.

Ranadar had come to the same conclusion as Talfi. The color slipped from his face, and he gestured at the half-ruined city. “How can you say that, Mother? How could you kill all these people on the chance it will make me return?”

The queen looked genuinely surprised. “I would move the world to bring you home, my son.”

Ranadar swallowed hard and he swayed a little. “But you already have the war ready to begin. You already plan to invade.”

“If you return, I will merely occupy Balsia and the human lands,” said the queen. “The Fae will take treasure instead of slaves as tribute.” Her voice hardened. “If you do not return, all the humans will die.”

“That is a lot to hear,” Ranadar said slowly. “I must consider this.”

Relief cascaded across Gwylph's face. She leaned down and kissed Ranadar's forehead. “You have no idea how happy that makes me, my
Ranadka.
If you wish to speak to me again, simply call on me three times and this kiss will send your voice to my mind. But do not consider long. We must—”

Talfi darted forward and smacked the queen with Mrs. Farley's last spoon. The iron disrupted the glamour cast over Mrs. Farley by the sprite. Gwylph's image wavered and warped, then popped like a soap bubble. The sprite, its form spiky with pain and surprise, fled into the sky. Other Talfi shook his head as if waking from a light doze. Mrs. Farley, now herself again, cast about in confusion.

“What just happened?” she asked. “I feel very strange all of a sudden.”

“It's probably the aftermath of the earthquake,” Talfi said. “Why don't we get to the courtyard and find some water?”

The butcher, a blocky man with pale, receding hair, hurried up at that moment. He had been caught down at the animal pens when the quake hit and he had only now been able to make his way to his home neighborhood—and Mrs. Farley. She received him gratefully, and he was glad to bring his lady to the well in the back courtyard for something to drink, leaving Talfi, Other Talfi, and Ranadar at the front stoop. Once they were alone, Talfi turned to both Ranadar and Other Talfi, angry, but not sure who to confront first. He finally settled on Other Talfi.

“What in the name of the Nine are you doing?” He jabbed a finger into Other Talfi's chest. “I thought I was the First or whatever the Vik you call it.”

Other Talfi flushed and backed up a step. “I'm sorry,” he said, and his voice sounded truly contrite. “If the queen gives an order, I have to obey. All of us do. Except . . .”

“Except what?” Talfi snapped.

“Except for when Ranadar speaks,” Other Talfi said. “He told me to stop hitting you, and I did. I was surprised.”

“The Nine!” Talfi swore. “You still obey an elf!”

“Not just any elf,” Other Talfi shot back. “Him!”

Talfi started to answer, but Ranadar intervened. “There is no point in arguing,
Talashka.
He is what he is. We may as well argue with a carrot for being orange.”

“That isn't fair,” Other Talfi said hotly. “I'm no different from you. If you get hungry, you have to eat. When you get thirsty, you have to drink. You need air to breathe. It's built into you by the Nine.”

“Obedience is not,” Ranadar said.

“Isn't it?” Talfi said in a low voice.

Now Ranadar looked on his guard. “What do you mean?”

Talfi didn't want to ask the question. He wondered if this was how Danr felt when someone forced him to tell the truth. “Are you going back to Alfhame?”

Ranadar paused, a little too long, and every moment was a spear in Talfi's heart. “Would it be a bad idea?”

“How could it be good?” Talfi burst out.

“Our people have been fighting for millennia,” Ranadar said. “Look at us! We have all but destroyed ourselves twice in as many years, and now we are working on a third. Someone has to stop it!”

“What are you
talking
about?” Talfi demanded.

“Ever since the day of the demonstration, I have been thinking,” Ranadar said softly. “And while we were bringing your . . . body back here, I was thinking. And now that my mother has reappeared to speak with me, I have been thinking. If I returned to Alfhame, I would be king one day. I could make changes. Even as the heir apparent, I could make changes. The orcs and the humans and the Stane know I am friendly to them. Some of them even trust me. Instead of brandishing a closed fist, I could extend an open hand.”

“We can fight. We don't know that she'll win,” Talfi
shot back, though the words sounded empty, even to him. “Let's warn the prince, get Balsia ready for the attack.”

“After that earthquake?” Other Talfi said. “She could take the city any time she wants. The only thing holding her back is that Ranadar is still here and she doesn't want him to get hurt.”

“Come
with
me,
Talashka
.” Ranadar took him by the shoulders. “I
need
you. Be my chief adviser, the one who knows how the Kin think, the one who can tell me when I am uppity.” He laughed. “If I am king, I can create new laws that allow humans and elves to marry. Even when they are the same sex. What of that?”

Other Talfi shifted uncomfortably but showed no signs of wandering off. Talfi shot him a pointed look to make him go away, but he stayed where he was. And the anger still squatted inside Talfi like a bloated toad.

“And what are you forgetting, uppity elf?” The words came out harsher and more bitter than Talfi had intended.

“Forgetting?” Ranadar tried to touch Talfi's shoulder, but Talfi batted his hand away. “
Talashka
, what—?”

“How can you
forget
,” Talfi growled, “what it would be like for
me
in Alfhame? I wouldn't be your beloved husband. I wouldn't be your happy little consort. I'd be a fucking
slave
.”

“I could
change
that.” Ranadar's voice rose as well, and his ears were turning red. “This is the point! I cannot change a thing when I am
here
, in this stinking, lazy, iron-ridden city! Have you forgotten what it is like for me
here
?”

“Tell us,” Other Talfi said.

“Shut up,” Talfi snarled. He knew he was overreacting, knew he was making things worse, but he couldn't stop. A black miasma curled within him like rotted roots, poisoning his words and filling him with more anger. For a tiny moment he thought he actually smelled rotting plants, but he flung the sensation away with a shake of his head. He was too angry.

“Every moment in this pig-sucking city is nausea,” Ranadar said, ignoring the exchange. His voice rose. “Every day is sand under my skin. Every second is a headache. I wish I could have gone with Danr and Aisa and Kalessa. At least then I would not live with filthy iron and dirty looks and wondering which human is hating me.”

“Oh, but you just want to help!” Talfi's own voice rose to match Ranadar's. More pain and fear and frustration spilled out. The smell of rotting plants returned. “You just want to go back to your little kingdom and make things better for everyone!”

“I do!” Ranadar snapped. “And I can get away from this cesspit at the same time!”

“So humans live in a sewer!” Talfi shouted. “And you airy-fairy perfect
slave-owning
elves live in crystal palaces in Valahame with the Nine! The Fae shit and stink like the rest of us.”

“My kind does not burn
regi
,” Ranadar said. “Remember that when you are rutting with your dark-haired boy.”

The remark landed like a punch to the gut. Other Talfi gasped. Talfi stared at Ranadar for a long moment, mouth open. Ranadar wavered, then firmed his chin and looked away. Talfi spun and marched away.