Bone War (27 page)

“I am also sorry,” Ranadar interrupted. “But we should move. I cannot hide two people under a glamour for long.”

“Where are we going?” Talfi asked as they moved down the street together.

“Back to Mrs. Farley's to get some things,” Ranadar said, avoiding the long-term answer for now. It was so good to have Talfi back he did not want to ruin the moment with the news of his promise to Mother. “What happened to you?” he asked instead.

“After we . . . fought,” Talfi said, “I ran into a bunch of trolls. They were looking for me . . . for the flesh golems. They didn't believe me when I told them I wasn't a golem, and I guess I wouldn't have, either. They threw me in a cage on a cart with a bunch of other versions of me, and that had to be the strangest thing I've seen in a while. They could have broken out of the cart any time they wanted to,
but no one gave them the orders. I told them to do it, and they wouldn't, even though I'm the First.”

Because Mother wanted them arrested,
Ranadar thought. He led them around a knot of carts and narrowly missed a goose girl with a herd of geese. “What happened then?”

“They hauled us down into the cells and left us there. It was cold and wet and they didn't feed us or empty the shit bucket, so it stank to make your eyes water. I was scared you didn't know where I was. Eventually, a bunch of guards came in and dragged three of them away. We didn't know what was going on, but we could guess. And then all of a sudden, the golems went berserk. They smashed down the doors and stampeded up the stairs, right over a bunch of the guards. I wasn't going to stay! When I got out the gates, I saw you.”

“Lady Hafren was going to execute all of you,” Ranadar said grimly.

“And Karsten went along with this?” Talfi's eyes were wide.

“Karsten doesn't know. I think he's too busy dealing with the earthquake.”

“But why?” Talfi said.

“A combination.” They turned another corner, and Ranadar judged they were safe enough to let the glamour drop. “She does not like
regi
men, and she does not like the Fae and she does not like a Fae prince living in Balsia and she does not like flesh golems, so she would rather kill them. And you.”

Talfi halted and caught Ranadar in another breathless embrace. “I'm sorry about everything I said,” he whispered into Ranadar's ear. “I was stupid, and I don't ever want to fight with you again. I can't live without you. Not a century, not a year, not a day.”

“I feel the same, my
Talashka
,” Ranadar whispered back, but he was tense with the words he still had to say.

They continued on their way. Life was returning to
normal in the city. People were already repairing or rebuilding damaged houses, and the streets bustled with business.

“The big question is why the golems decided to revolt,” Talfi said. He turned to look at Ranadar. They were nearly at Mrs. Farley's now. “Did you have something to do with it?”

“I?” Ranadar temporized. “What makes you think I had—”

“You were right there when it happened. That's too big a coincidence to swallow. Don't get me wrong, Ran—I'm insanely glad it happened. But what did you do?”

“I—”

Ranadar was saved from answering further by Other Talfi, who barreled out of Mrs. Farley's door to greet them. He nearly knocked Talfi over with a hug.

“First!” he said breathlessly. “You're all right! Well, of course you're all right. You can't be anything else. It's just good to
know
that—”

“You're babbling,” Talfi said, disentangling himself. “What's wrong with you? You've never acted like this.”

“Just glad to see you.” Other Talfi ran a hand through his hair and kept his eyes away from Ranadar. “Yep. Really glad.”

“Were you not ordered to scatter and hide?” Ranadar said.

“Yeah,” Other Talfi said. “I hid here. She didn't say how long we had to hide, so now I'm coming out.”

“Hide? She?” Talfi said. “What's going on?”

“The queen ordered it.” Other Talfi tapped his temple. “I heard her in my head.”

“Why would she order that all the way from Alfhame?” Talfi said, bewildered. “
How
did she order it from Alfhame? Does it have anything do with the escape?”

“Well, yeah,” said Other Talfi brightly. “Ranadar promised Queen Gwylph that if she called off the invasion and broke you out of the cells, he'd go back to Alfhame.”

The blood drained from Talfi's face and Ranadar felt as
if he had been punched in the gut. “You promised what?” Talfi whispered.

“It is not quite like that,” Ranadar said quickly. “I did not—”

“Did you promise her you'd go back to Alfhame?” Talfi interrupted.

“Yes, but—”

“Vik's balls!” Talfi turned his back in a fury. “After everything we argued about, you went to your mother and promised this while I was in prison? Did you also promise I'd come as your slave?”

“Damn you!” Ranadar hissed at Other Talfi.

“I'll go with you,” said Other Talfi. “She won't notice the difference unless she looks closely, and she won't.”

“Talfi.” Ranadar put a hand on Talfi's shoulder. “Please, listen. I swore to her I would return, yes, but only because it was the only way I could get you out of the cells. They were planning to kill you. And the invasion! I got her to call off the invasion!”

“I can't die, Ran. You didn't need to promise anything.” The red anger in his voice rang harsh against Ranadar's ears. Only moments before Ranadar had been worried that he would never see Talfi again, and now they were fighting again. What was wrong with them? A faint smell of rotting plants drifted past, and he wrinkled his nose, trying to ignore it.

“We do not know that entirely,” Ranadar said. “What if they cut your head off and put it on a spike outside the gates like they did with the others? Would you come back then?”

Talfi turned back around. “Spikes?”

“You did not see—we were trying to get away.” Ranadar swallowed. “I was angry at the way Hafren treated me and at what she said about you, and I did not want all the golems to be executed. So I promised my mother I would return if she would call off the invasion and get you and the others out. She did, so now I have to go to Alfhame.”

A silence stretched between them. Ranadar wanted to speak, but the silence was too heavy, and he could not break it. At last, Talfi sighed and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

“Well,” he said, “I suppose we would have had to pop over to Alfhame next anyway.”

The shift was so abrupt it made Ranadar sway. The rotten plant smell vanished. “We would?” he said.

“Yeah. Danr went with Kalessa and Aisa to find the Bone Sword while we stayed here to find out what the candle wax man was about. And we did—Queen Gwylph was planning to invade Balsia with him and the other golems. But she called it off, and now we have to go to Alfhame.”

“Why?” asked Other Talfi.

“The invasion may be off, but Pendra is still caged up,” Talfi pointed out. “Aisa and Danr and Kalessa are heading to Alfhame with the Bone Sword to stop the queen once and for all. We can't let them do it alone.”

“I'm coming, too,” said Other Talfi. “You'll need help.”

Talfi snorted. “Sure. And the minute the queen tells you to stab us in the back, you'll do it.”

“Not if Ranadar tells me to do something different,” Other Talfi said. “Do you think I
like
having to obey the queen? She's beautiful and I feel that need to obey her, but I don't . . . I don't . . . you know.”

“Love her?” Ranadar said.

Other Talfi glanced away. “Yeah.”

Ranadar shook his head. He felt nothing for Other Talfi. Did not wish to. But he did feel bad for him. It was not his fault—

“I wonder what would happen to all you golems if the queen died,” Talfi mused aloud.

Other Talfi's head came around. “What?”

“You know.” Talfi spread his hands. “Elves addict humans with a touch. Mind games and glamour. I wonder if something like that's what makes you obey her. I mean, elven
addiction doesn't affect me anymore because I died and came back, but you aren't quite me. She built you, so maybe she was able to make a little change. But the addiction ends when the elf dies—sorry, Ran—so I was just wondering what would happen.”

“Hmm,” said Ranadar. “This is not a line of thinking I enjoy.”

“Well,” Talfi said, “how exactly are we going to stop your mother? Reason with her?”

“I was hoping, yes,” said Ranadar. “She wants me back on the throne, either beside her or beneath her. She will have to listen to some of what I say.”

“Uh-huh.” Talfi chewed a thumbnail. “I don't think you know your mother as well as you think you do.”

“How can I kill my own mother?” Ranadar tried to say, but it came out as a half wail.

“I know, Ran, and I'm sorry. But she killed
me
,” Talfi said. “And all those Stane. And a bunch of Kin.”

“Yes.” Ranadar's face was pale. “But . . . could you kill your own mother?”

“I don't remember her,” Talfi said truthfully. “It's not an easy thing, but it's a necessary thing, Ran.”

“We can use reason,” Ranadar said. “And we don't have to kill her. Danr and Aisa and Kalessa probably have the Bone Sword by now, and they will use it to free Pendra. Once that happens, my mother will lose nearly all her power and we will not need to kill her.”

“Sure,” Talfi said doubtfully. “I just think we need to keep our options open.”

“Mother said she was at the Lone Mountain,” Ranadar went on doggedly. “We need to get there before Danr and the others show up with the Bone Sword so we can run interference.”

“How?” Talfi said.

“My arrival will help a great deal,” Ranadar said seriously. “It will lull Mother into a sense of security and put her off her guard. If I take my position as crown prince, I
can change the patrols and make it easier for our friends to get there. Or, if they are captured, I can stop them from being killed outright.”

“Let's go, then.” Talfi turned to Other Talfi. “But not you. You're staying behind.”

“Do either of you know the way to the Lone Mountain?” Other Talfi countered.

Ranadar and Talfi exchanged looks. “Not from here,” Ranadar admitted.

Other Talfi grinned. “Then it looks like I'm leading the way.”

T
he mud monsters reached for Danr with cold, squashy hands. His roar echoed across the Garden and he back-swung a heavy arm. His fist and forearm smashed through them with a squishing sound and most of them flopped to the Garden floor in pieces. They reminded Danr of half-formed golems, an army of faceless, vaguely human forms made of mud instead of clay. Aisa swung her sickle through several more with a yell of her own, neatly severing them at the waist. They toppled backward amid flailing limbs. Another wave lurched toward them both while the ones on the ground slurped and slithered about, melding their bodies back together again. Several paces behind Danr and Aisa stood Nu and Tan, looking withered and tired within their cloaks. Tan leaned heavily on her hoe and Nu's seed sack hung slack and empty from her clawed hands.

“More here!” Danr shouted. He grabbed one mud monster by the arm and used it as a club to smash some of the others. They fell apart as well, but joined the others in slithering back together. Some of the first group was already rising from the ground. Their muddy groans filled the Garden air. Two of them grabbed Danr's shins from the ground, rooting him in place like cold quicksand. The ground wasn't level, and it was hard to keep his balance.

“This is useless!” Aisa sliced three more in half, but more stepped forward to take their places. “They are endless.”

Danr tried to pull his feet free, gave up, and bashed more mud monsters. Unfortunately, this time his right fist got stuck in one of them. He raised his arm, but two more mud monsters grabbed hold and dragged it back down. “What do we do?”

“Keep them busy! I have an idea.” Aisa retreated and dashed back to the Gardeners. She snatched Tan's seed sack from the Fate's unresisting hands.

Danr lashed out with his left hand and flung more mud monsters away, but others were crawling up his legs. He was sinking in foul-smelling mud, even though he was standing in one place. So far he was buried up to his waist on the slanted ground. “Whatever you're going to do, make it fast!” He managed to pull his right hand free, but that only buried his left hand. Mud rose to his chest.

Aisa sprinted up to him and opened the sack. From it, she scattered seeds over the mud monsters—a dozen seeds, a hundred, a thousand. Tiny seeds, large seeds, even downy seeds that floated on the still air and stuck to the mud monsters' heads and shoulders. Maple tree seeds twirled away and drilled into the mud monsters' bodies. Pinecones pelted them, even as the mud came up to Danr's chin. He gasped for air.

“Grow!”
Aisa said in a strange, deep voice Danr had never heard before.

The chilly mud covered Danr's mouth, and his heartbeat sang in his ears. Then it all paused. There was a whisper of sound, a breath of movement. The mud monsters and the pile of mud shuddered. Danr inhaled sharply, trying to draw breath through just his nose while the mud pressed hard against his chest. Tiny green leaves sprouted all over the mud, popping up in ones and pairs and trios. Stalks pushed up next, faster than any plant had a right to grow. In a second, a tangle of plants was crawling over the mud pile and the mud monsters. The monsters who could move tried
to flee, but the plants weighed them down. Flowers burst in a riot of colors. Small trees put out long branches and dug into the mud with their roots. Every mud monster lurched, tripped, and finally dropped to the ground, pressed down by the new life. A few twitched and trembled, but eventually they went still.

Danr found himself buried in a patch of petunias. He heaved, but the earth was simply too heavy. After a moment's thought, he gathered his own power and took his human shape. He shrank, leaving a great deal of free space around himself. A hole opened up around his neck and head, allowing him to dig around. Aisa arrived, and with her help, he clawed his way out, leaving his ruined clothes behind.

“Whoof!” Naked, he collapsed to the muddy grass beneath the shady light, though he had to brace himself so he wouldn't roll away—the slant was fairly bad here. “Are you all right? Is the baby all right?”

“The baby is fine,” Aisa said. “You must stop asking that question every time I sneeze or visit the privy or fight a dread monster.”

“I'm the dad.” Danr pushed muddy hair out of his eyes. “I get to ask as often as I like.”

“Hmm.” Aisa touched her belly in what was already becoming a habit, though even Danr knew it would be many weeks before anything showed.
Dad
and
Father
were still new words to Danr, and he liked saying them aloud to get used to them. He closed his right eye and looked again, just as he had yesterday. Huh. There was the baby, still healthy and perfectly fine, as Aisa had said. A boy—ha! But . . .

“You are looking again,” Aisa accused.

“You said I could,” Danr shot back, “any time I wanted to.”

“Has anything changed?”

“No,” he sighed. “I can't tell if he's going to be mortal or immortal or something else. I can't even tell if he'll be Stane or Kin or a shape mage or anything else.”

“That is because his fate has not been decided yet.” Nu hobbled over, using her hoe as a cane.

“He is but a seed,” added Tan, retrieving her seed sack from Aisa. “He can have no plant here until he is born.”

“So he has no fate or future?” Aisa finished, unconsciously.

“How could he?” said Tan. “I do not know where to plant him yet.”

“So he could be . . . anything,” Danr said. “Mortal or immortal. Stane or Kin. Shape mage or not.”

“Well, yes,” said Nu. “But that is true of all children. Even Fell and Belinna were formless to us until they emerged from Grick's womb.”

Danr dropped back on his elbows as a great weight lifted from him. He hadn't realized until now just how frightened it had made him to look at Aisa's belly and see a formless nothing around their child. Hearing from the Gardeners that this was normal relieved him so quickly it made him light-headed.

“You are naked again, my Hamzu,” Aisa said, “and covered with dirt. I cannot begin to tell you how attractive that makes you.”

He grinned at her. “Is this monster stuff going to happen every time we come here?”

“It also happens when you are not here.” Nu leaned on her hoe. “We are simply unable to fight.”

“Unable to repair.” Tan folded her seed sack.

“Barely able to work.” Aisa retrieved her sickle. “It's getting worse and worse in here.”

“And you're getting more powerful.” Danr sat up. “Why is that?”

“She is not fully connected to the Garden yet,” said Nu. “The corruption does not affect her as badly.”

“But we can feel the Tree tipping,” said Tan. “The Garden is sliding away. Can you not feel it?”

“The ground isn't level,” Danr was forced to say. “I can feel it.”

“Anyone can,” Aisa said. “What do we do about it?”

“Find the Bone Sword,” said Nu.

“Free Pendra,” said Tan. “Time is running out. In a week, perhaps ten days, all will be lost.”

This brought Danr's head around. “What? A week? We thought we had months, maybe even a year.”

“Things have become worse,” Nu murmured. “The elf queen is draining more power from Pendra than we knew. She creates unnatural Twists, reaches through iron in ways the Fae were not meant to do. And she continues to create the flesh golems. The imbalance of her power speeds the corruption of the world.”

“We are seeing earthquakes,” whispered Tan. “Soon, we will see much worse.”

“Can't you help us?” Aisa said. “It would go faster.”

“If we would, we could,” said Tan sadly. “But we cannot fight simple mud, let alone raise a hand against the elven queen.”

“The Tree tips,” said Nu.

“Why does the Tree have to tip at all?” Danr burst out. “Every thousand years, Ashkame tips. It shakes up the world and creates wars and Sunderings and disasters that kill thousands of people. Why can't it just be anchored?”

Nu sighed. “It is the nature of being.”

Tan shrugged. “It is how the universe works. Three Gardeners tend the Garden. Two pivot around a third, and therefore the Tree must always tip. So it is, and so it must be.”

Danr shot a glance at Aisa. Now that he was going to have a child who would inherit this world, Danr found the idea of a constantly tipping Ashkame more and more repugnant. How could he leave a world of constant upheaval and strife to his son? Or his grandson? Or any of his descendants? Resolve filled him, and he put a dirty arm around Aisa. If he had to die one day, let it be trying to ensure that his children would have a better world than he did.

“What did the mud men and the new plants do to the
Garden?” Aisa asked, adroitly changing the subject. “We should look.”

“Many new lives have entered the world,” said Nu.

“A burst of births,” agreed Tan.

“They balance out the deaths,” said Aisa, leaning over to examine some of them.

“Hey!” Some distance away from the mud monster area, Danr knelt by a bright red spineflower, its prickly blossoms and sturdy scarlet stem standing defiantly amid a patch of fingerlike pickleweed and smooth cord grass. “These grow on the shore, don't they?”

“In the Garden, anything can grow anywhere,” Aisa said, joining him.

“This spineflower seems . . . familiar. I can't say why.” Danr reached down to brush it with his fingertips and a rush of impressions washed over him: a tall, half-troll girl wrestling with her human older brothers, the same half-troll girl grown to womanhood boarding a ship for the first time with a simultaneous sense of awe and homecoming, the woman getting into a fight with four sailors and knocking all of them flat, the woman weeping over the death of the first mate and being startled at receiving his position herself, the woman putting on a heavy felt hat against the sun and taking her ship's helm as captain herself. Startled, Danr snatched his hand away.

“This is Captain Greenstone!” he said. “The plants around her must be the crew of the
Slippery Fish.
Incredible! I haven't thought of her in months.”

“Delightful woman,” Aisa murmured. “Always with a soft spot for you.”

“You aren't jealous, and don't pretend you are,” Danr said, still lost in memory. “I did like her. The first other half-blood I ever met. I'm glad to see her plant is blooming. She must be doing well.”

“I think we have had enough of the Garden for a single night,” Aisa said. “The new plants will slow the corruption, at least a little.”

“Ten days,” said Nu. “That is the most you will have.”

“Ten days,” echoed Tan.

“Ten,” said Aisa. “Come, Hamzu. Back to Xaron.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Can you Twist us out now?”

“I can Twist us in and out of the Garden when we sleep, but not elsewhere,” she said. “I cannot explain it now, but I can, and I can do it without help from the . . . Two.”

“This is a fine thing,” said Nu, sinking to the ground. “We have little power left.”

“We are weak,” agreed Tan, settling beside her.

“We will hurry,” Danr said, earning him an odd look from Aisa. Before he could ask about it, she took his hand.

There was a
wrench
and salt water filled Danr's mouth and nose. He coughed and spluttered and flailed about, but there was only water beneath his feet. Vik! What had happened? Panic squirted through him. Trolls tended to sink more than swim. Then he remembered he was human. That wouldn't help him breathe. He tried get his bearings, but had no idea which way was up. Already his chest was growing tight.

A pair of arms wrapped around him from behind and hauled him to the surface. He broached and sucked in sweet air, then coughed out salt water. Frightened, he looked around. Blue ocean stretched in all directions under a cloudy sky. Aisa in her mermaid form was holding him up. Her fierce, tattooed face looked as serious as he felt.

“I am glad you took your human form,” she said. “I doubt I could carry your birth shape for long.”

“How did we get here?” Danr spluttered.

“I am unsure. I aimed for Xaron, where we entered the Garden. I cannot imagine how we came to be here. Or even where
here
is.”

“Take us back to the Garden!” Danr said.

“I do not know how.” Aisa looked around desperately. “When I am half-asleep at night, the Garden calls to me and I can find it. Now—”

A wave washed over them, plunging Danr underwater.
Aisa brought him back to the surface again. “You can't hold me up forever,” Danr said. “Can you change into a whale or something?”

“I can.” Aisa's long black hair trailed in the water behind her. “But I do not know what that will do to the baby.”

A pang went through Danr, mingling with the salt in his mouth. “You took your mermaid shape.”

She gasped. “I did, and without thinking. Was it a mistake?”

Another wave washed over them. This time Danr was ready for it and was able to hold his breath, but Aisa still had to pull him to the surface with firm strokes of her tail. Worry for the baby, however, made him heavy and he wondered if it would pull him back down again. What if something had gone wrong with him? What if he had changed into some kind of monster?

“Let me look,” Danr said when he could breathe again. He closed his right eye. For a heart-stopping moment he saw nothing. Then he saw it—their son was still there, undamaged, and Danr still couldn't tell if he was mortal or immortal. “He's fine. He's perfectly fine.”

Aisa let out a soft cry, and he knew she'd been just as worried as he'd been. She threw her arms around Danr and kissed him, which had the effect of sending them both beneath the waves. There was an explosion of golden light, and Danr found himself clinging to the back of something cool and slick—a great whale. Water rushed past his head and they broached the surface. Aisa blew a fine mist from the blowhole just in front of Danr, and he laughed. He didn't know whales, had no idea what kind she was, but her skin was a grayish blue and her body was a good thirty or forty feet long. Danr pressed himself to her back, glad the day was warm, for all that it was cloudy.