Spellbreaker (66 page)

“Not really. Though I would guess they are minimal now and would remain so unless the next battle goes against us.”

Leandra nodded. “Could I ask you for one more favor?”

“Of course, Lady Warden.”

“I took the next dose of the stress hormone as you directed me to this morning. But now, would you mind removing my loveless spell again before I see my mother?”

She paused before setting her cup down. “Not at all.”

“You hesitate?”

“No, it was just a passing fancy.”

“Care to pass the fancy to me?”

“It must be difficult to choose between the ability to love and freedom from a chronic disease.”

Leandra smiled tightly. “Which would you choose?”

“If I chose the ability to love, would that give me more opportunities for bad humor, irony, and bitter complaint?”

“A thousand times more.”

“I'd go with ability to love then.”

“It is good to know we see eye to eye on this issue. Could you remove my loveless now?”

After the physician had transferred the spell into a book, Leandra thanked her and asked her to send Dhrun in when she left.

A few moments later, the screen slid back to reveal Dhrun in her Nika incarnation. She wore a yellow lungi, a white blouse, and a slight smile that almost concealed her anxiety.

Leandra's heart ached a little as she remembered how sure of herself Dhrun had been before. “Dhru, come in,” Leandra said and motioned to the window. They stood side by side for a moment, and then Dhrun rested her hands on the sill while Leandra turned around to sit upon it. “Ellen took the loveless off again.”

“Won't that make your disease flare worse?”

“It might, but I wanted it off to talk to you.”

Dhrun searched her eyes. “What did you want to say?”

“I suppose you've noticed a change in yourself since I deconstructed my mother's draconic nature.”

Dhrun's lips pressed together and her posture seemed to straighten. “I … I can't assume my Dhrunarman manifestation.”

“I did that to you.”

She was searching Leandra's face again. “Why?”

“When I was attempting to protect my mother's draconic text, I wanted to use some of your text as a model. The problem is that I lost consciousness in the process of completing the task. I'm afraid I've locked you into this manifestation. I should be able to unlock you, but before I do so, I need to examine you again in a few days. I hope you'll forgive me.”

“How long will I be stuck like this?”

Leandra wondered if she should lie, but seeing the fear in her friend's eyes, she told the truth. “I don't know.”

Dhrun nodded.

“Is it very hard for you?”

“It's the first time since I formed my divinity complex that I've been confined to one body and one sex.” She tucked a lock of her black hair behind her ear.

Leandra took her friend's hand. “I am sorry for that. I'll make it as short as possible.”

“You can't examine me now?”

“No, I need to see how both you and my mother adapt to the changes I made. And anyway, I'd need to have the loveless put back on to fully perceive and edit your text.”

Dhrun's expression became more concerned. “We have to be more careful about preventing your disease flares. Is it bad now?”

“Only mild belly pain. Hopefully the stress hormone will keep it from being too bad.”

“Do you think that … what we were doing right before your last flare … do you think that touched it off?”

“I don't know.”

“What we did,” Dhrun asked tentatively, “what do you think about it?”

Leandra thought for a moment before she said, “It's hard to explain when you're like this.”

“When I'm female?”

“To be honest, yes.”

“But I'm no different. I am still Dhrun in either the Nika or Dhrunarman manifestations. They're both me.”

“I know they are. I'm…” Leandra felt ashamed that she could not look her friend in the eyes. “I'm…”

Dhrun placed a hand against her cheek. It sent an uncomfortable thrill through Leandra. She closed her eyes and turned her head into Dhrun's palm.

“I still feel the same,” Dhrun said softly.

Leandra didn't open her eyes. “When the loveless is off, I feel the same too. But, Dhru, it's different for me. When you touch me like this, I imagine you as the handsome young man. When I open my eyes, I'll see you as a beautiful goddess, my closest friend and confidante. You are the same person in each manifestation, but to me you are different aspects of the same person.”

“How is that different than anyone else? What a person can be, it's such a big thing. Everyone is both the same person and a different person when they were younger or when they are with family or among enemies. The only difference is that I wear different bodies.”

“I am sorry, Dhru.” Leandra took the other woman's hand off her cheek. “This is difficult. For me, the different bodies matter.” The resulting expression of hurt on Dhrun's face made Leandra pull her into an embrace. “Give me time. Things are changing so fast, and you won't be locked forever in this manifestation.”

When they separated, Dhrun had regained her composure. She nodded. “I won't give up. But will you try to see through the different manifestations to me?”

“I will, honest. But right now, I have to go see Francesca. Will you come with me?”

When Dhrun said that she would, they set off down the hallway. It was awkward at first, walking side by side, but then they passed the twin druids in the hallway and the presence of others reinforced their public roles of a Lady Warden and her officer. Outside Francesca's suite, Leandra asked Dhrun to guard the door. The divinity nodded and produced her old, inscrutable smile.

After Leandra knocked, she heard her mother's voice and slid the door open. Inside, all the curtains had been drawn and her mother was sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Mother; I didn't mean to wake you.”

Francesca paused and then stood. “No, no.” Her tone was so weary it alarmed Leandra. “I couldn't sleep, so we should get this over with.” She walked to the window and drew back the curtain. Early-evening light filled the room.

“Get what over with?”

“I was wrong about Vivian's feint.” She pulled the next curtain open. “You were right. If I had been in a draconic form, Vivian's Numinous spell would have killed me.” She paused, grimaced, pressed a hand to her stomach.

“Are you all right? Should I get Ellen or one of the other physicians?”

“No, no. I am still a physician myself, Lea. It's one of the few things I have left.”

“You've said that physicians make the worst patients.”

“Horrendous patients, so there's no point torturing Doria or Ellen with my care.”

“Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

“Food sounds awful right now.”

Leandra walked toward her. “Mother, I…”

Francesca looked up at her. Her face had not changed—fair complexion, long brown hair, dark eyes, a light spray of freckles—but her expression of slack exhaustion didn't seem real. It felt as if this smaller, defeated person couldn't possibly be her indomitable mother.

“Mother, I wish it could have been different.”

She nodded. “Circumstances demanded action.”

Leandra didn't know what to say.

Francesca looked out over the city. She spoke then as if to herself. “All the things you could have done differently begin adding up in your head and you weigh their sum against the present. You wonder how it was you made the choices you did. Then you start adding up all the things that I could have done differently or your father could have done differently, and before you know it you're locking yourself into a calculus of what-might-have-been. But there's no time for that, and the world rushes on, and far too soon circumstances force you to act again.”

“It's a little frightening that you know so well how I feel.”

Francesca smiled at her. “It was how I felt.”

“In Port Mercy?”

“Especially then, but also during every crisis in your treatment when you were a child.”

“This would be a lot easier if you were ranting, obstinate, and overpowering.”

Her mother laughed. “It's not easy for me either. I'm trying to work myself up to thanking you.”

“I would appreciate it if you did.”

“You would really care one way or the other?”

“I would,” Leandra said, a little stung.

“We are so alike, you and I.”

“Isn't it exasperating?”

“Infuriating, really.” She smiled. “You are so much my daughter, and so much a child of what I was.”

“You are still a physician and one of the most powerful stateswomen in the league.”

Francesca looked out the window again. “It should be a consolation, shouldn't it?”

“And you must have heard that Dad survived and is coming down from the Pavilion of the Sky.”

“That's true. I'll thank the God-of-gods forever that Nico survived.” She looked at Leandra again and then down at her hands. “You forced me into this state, but it's the state in which I can survive … so, thank you, Lea.”

“Just like you did to me in Port Mercy.”

“It's a time of reversals. At some point, the dangers of creating or being created turn themselves upside down; the daughter outgrows the mother. As your strength grows, you will need to diminish mine.”

“Mom, you're being dramatic.”

“How well would you tolerate my political fiddling if you became the greatest power in the league?”

“About as well as the night sky tolerates the sun.”

“Exactly. But given the current choices, I would prefer that you continue to diminish me.”

“Are you going to start insisting I flee to the South again?”

“Right now the city is celebrating, but you and I both know that today's attack was just a feint. Now that I am not there to fight off the airships, Vivian can take this city. We have to get you out of here.”

“There might not be time.”

“But if there is—”

“And still,” Leandra interrupted, feeling her passion rise, “what is the point of escaping? If I go on to manifest myself as Los, humanity will be exploited by neodemons and eventually replaced by deities. If I die, humanity will be enslaved by the empire's spellwrights until language stagnates. What's the point in choosing between two unacceptable choices?”

“My daughter would still be alive in one of them.”

“There has to be some third way out, something better.”

Francesca studied her. “Let's go outside. I'm feeling better.”

Leandra followed her onto a balcony looking west. The compound's garden stood ahead of them. In the gathering darkness, someone had lit a kukui lamp near the pond. Koi were circling near it.

“Your father sent word that he's going to sleep in the Floating Palace at the Trimuril's request. I'll join him there in the morning to meet with the Sacred Regent. Would you like to accompany me?”

“I've already told the Trimuril I will. And perhaps Ellen told you already, several influential citizens met with the Sacred Regent to object to her supporting me.”

“Ellen did mention that. And I should warn you that Ellen has her doubts about you as well.”

“She doesn't do a very good job of hiding those doubts.”

“Her transparency was one of the reasons I picked her as a student.”

“Perhaps I have been jealous of how close you and Ellen are.”

“I always wished you had been my student instead.”

“But that's just it, Mom, that was the only way you gave me to be close to you, but I can never be your student.”

“You made that abundantly clear.”

“It's not in my nature.”

“I wish I could have done better for you, Lea.”

“I think … I think I finally understand why you did what you did.”

“Will you be able to forgive me for it?”

“If you could return the favor.”

Francesca looked at her then, a little of her old vitality returning. “With all my heart.”

Something like fear and something like relief flushed through Leandra. “Okay, I'll go.”

Francesca's eyebrows sank in confusion. “Go where?”

“To Lorn or Dral. If there's a way to sneak out to safety, I'll go. I mean, being the reincarnation of the Dread God has to have some perks, right? I should have enough time to try to change the league?”

Rather than answer, Francesca nearly tackled Leandra with a hug.

Leandra could only stand stiffly uncomfortable, but then her mother spun her around. “Darling, I couldn't stand the idea of the world without you in it.”

A dull pain opened up in Leandra's chest. Awkwardly, she returned her mother's embrace, feebly patted her back.

“I was so afraid this day would never come,” Francesca murmured. “I thought some imperial spy would kill you, or a disease flare would spin your consciousness across the world, or that you'd get so mad at me you'd deconstruct me into sentence fragments and blow them into the wind, I can't—”

“What did you say?” Leandra interrupted, pushing herself away from her mother.

“You know, the prophetic insight about your needing to kill someone you loved. I had this vision of you deconstructing me and then casting me into the wind.”

Ideas teemed through Leandra's mind. She looked up at the volcano's summit. The sunset was painting a cloud with gold and crimson. The powerful western wind was making the cloud twist. Leandra thought of her father, his metaspell, Aunt Vivian, the Emerald, the Floating City.

“Lea, what is it?”

“I may … I may have the solution.” As she said these words, a jolt of fear and sadness moved through her as she realized that she could not tell anyone—especially not her mother—of her realization. They'd stop her.