Page 91 of Shadows and Flames
“Your Majesty,” Blackwood cut in, mouth half-full, “would now be an appropriate time to discuss trade? Or perhaps I can speak more privately with the Master of Coin?”
She did not deign him a response at first, continuing to study Meline in a way that left me wanting to breathe flames and burn her where she sat. To leave her a pile of ash for eventhinkingof threatening my queen.
But, Meline could hold her own in this, I knew.
“Walter Blackwood,” the Queen finally looked at him, “tell us, are you capable of supplying the same goods as your predecessor?”
The one whose head she consumed in front of the eyes of her citizens? “Yes, Your Majesty. I’ve a fleet that rivals that of Von Herron’s, access to the same channels as well as ownership of the finest apiaries in the world. I’ve the capacity to bring regular shipments to your location of choice.”
Larkin, the Master of Coin, addressed Blackwood this time. “And what of the Vyrlandians?”
“The…” Blackwood pursed his lips, disappearing them beneath the cover of his mustache. “My apologies, I do not follow.”
The head of trade flipped lilac hair over their shoulder, brushing against their large wings of similar shade. “We had anagreement with the other human to include a steady stream of Vyrlandians.” They said this slowly, as if Blackwood were daft, and the rest of the Folk regarded him similarly.
The five of us who’d accepted no illusions of geniality understood.
How couldonemerchant from Morova secure the trust of a race far more powerful and older than him? With just sweets in return for their cooperation and priceless fabrics?
“How—”
The Master of Coin drummed their fingers on the table beside their gleaming fork and knife. “We’ve need for the honey more than Vyrlandians. Typically, the other one would include twenty or so each month. Which…” They tilted their head, as if doing quick calculation. With what we knew of Francie’s capture, I already knew the answer. “Is about one year in your world. Surely that gives more than enough time to procure the same amount.”
Blackwood sputtered and turned a nauseated eye to the meat on his plate. To which, the Queen chuckled pleasantly and took another bite from hers. “Enough talk of business. Tell me, Raouga, do your kind worship the Mother as well? Or just this God the Vyrlandians sometimes pray to. Mortos, I believe His name is.”
Tana, who’d remained calm on my queen’s other side, asked, “You know of the Mother?”
The Queen’s daughter answered, “NotyourMother.”
Sarya gave her a censuring glance, one that transcended realms, of mothers everywhere. “What Sen speaks of is our sister creators. We are related, you see. Created by a left hand, while the other, by the right. I’ve always found it fascinating, the children, though. It seems most confusing. Do you just choose which of Her children to follow? When does your Motheroverride them?” She shook her head, rattling the beads of bone strung into her curls.
“We—does everyone in Pyrestan worship the same deity, then? Do no others rule over your tree and mountain?”
The Prince chuckled as one would to a child asking a silly, ill-informed question. “What the heathens of the lowlands do is of no concern to us.” The lowlands… did that mean?—
“Which reminds me, Your Majesty. A messenger from the Aeshí has come bearing the official request for you to attend?—”
“Yes, yes.” Queen Sarya waved her long, ringed fingers as if swatting away the notion. “You can begin preparations for my attendance to thisblasphemouscoronation.” When neither of us reacted, she regarded us conspiratorially. “Really, a mortal becoming queen?” To Larkin, she sneered, “Ready whatever jewels we can spare from the coffers for this Sylveena or whatever her name is. Now, golden Raouga, tell me?—”
“Apologies, but I must interrupt.” Meline smoothed a hand down her waistcoat. “We brought your mother’s bracelet, and I would like to secure my friend in exchange for it before we discuss other matters.”
“Ah, yes.” Sarya downed the rest of her wine. A shadow in the distance, behind the clouds on the mountain, arced behind her. In the shape of her crown. “Show it to me.”
I reached into the breast pocket of my leathers, past the knives I’d hidden there. Against the black of my glove, the slender jewelry shone brightly, despite the many hands that had touched it since it left this land. Meline plucked it from me while giving a thankful brush of her fingers, skin also covered.
“Guards, retrieve the bracelet.”
Meline’s dagger was in her fist and pointed at the guard who’d stepped forward faster than even I could track. “We had a deal, Sarya. The bracelet for Francie, and I don’t see her here.”
The Queen bade her guard to halt and wrinkled her nose. “You think I would bring a pet to supper?”
“As theLeader of Truth,” Meline spat her title, “I expected for you to bring myfriendso that we may take her home.”
The room went silent, save for the howling of the wind swirling from the mountains. I watched the children, how they observed Fenix and Blackwood hungrily, how they smirked as if they had won.
At last, the queen of bones snapped her fingers with a resounding click. A large, carved door opened, and my queen and Sarya continued their staring, their measuring of each other while the thick, oppressiveness of Frenzy swept the room.
Like in the throne room, as soon as Francie set her sights on Blackwood, she let out a guttural scream, this time into a strip of linen tied around her mouth. She was covered this time, in little more than a tattered shift. Her hands were bound behind her back, her feet struggling against the iron grip of the guard who held her arm.
