I have often wondered what it would be like to sit on a throne. To be responsible for so many others. Recent experiences with my family of familiars suggests I probably wouldn’t much like it.

The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu

Twenty-second of Learning 1142

Queen Treya was born to rule. How could anyone doubt it? Sitting on her throne, she was a portrait of composure. King Terrence had started glowing recently, but the queen had her own glow, less impressive, but then it didn’t have the power of a goddess backing it up. Her brown hair shone with its own light, whether piled atop her head like a crown or spilling over her shoulders as it was now. Her eyes sparkled with compassion and amusement. Her full lips smiled frequently. Her fair skin was unmarked by wrinkles or blemish. She didn’t even have laugh lines. What was that about?

Lady Trast loved the queen the way that one loves a dear friend, but also the way one loves a sovereign who has earned the trust of the people. Queen Treya did what was right. She never questioned the cost to herself, and everyone knew it, even the many nobles standing with her in the throne room, waiting for the queen to call her court to begin.

The queen didn’t call the assemblage to order, however. Instead, she watched them. Lady Trast could almost see Queen Treya taking mental notes. The nobles were chatting, or in some cases arguing with each other, but the queen let them go. When she finally held up a hand, it only took seconds for the din to die down. The silence spread through the room as if nothing could gainsay a single royal hand gesture. Such was her presence that she didn’t even need to speak to command the room.

Queen Treya stood and smiled, looking around. Her eyes fell on one noble or another. When she finally spoke, her voice was in a normal speaking tone, but Trast had no doubt that every single person heard what she had to say.

“Thank you all for coming. We’re going to be changing things up today.”

She stepped aside and gestured to her throne.

Lady Trast walked up the single step leading to the queen’s throne, turned around and sat. The seat was harder than she thought it would feel, not that she’d have felt comfortable if it were softer. This wasn’t her seat. She didn’t belong here. But she had been asked to serve, and serve she would.

She was, for a moment, distracted by the empty throne beside her. Queen Treya was the only person standing between Trast and the throne. She had never wanted this. She’d been happy to serve the queen, but ruling? You had to be a special kind of idiot to want that job.

The reaction in the room was immediate. They would be silent for the queen but not for her, or so it seemed. But again the queen raised a hand and the silence returned.

“You’re to give Lady Trast the same respect you give me. She will sit in judgment today. I have complete confidence in her.”

Trast smiled at them, but she felt it was strained, unlike Queen Treya’s genuine, easy-going smile. Now Leata would call the first case, and Trast would sit in judgment. She looked around and for the first time realized Leata wasn’t present. Then the all too familiar voice of Lady Mere broke the silence.

“Let the hearings begin. The first case is between Lord Allen and Lord Lehran.”

The two lords moved tentatively forward. Everyone knew what they could expect in a court held by King Terrence or Queen Treya, but they were in uncharted territory now. One of their own had been elevated to the throne. What did they feel? Resentment? Anxiety? Envy? Trast couldn’t say. She tried to keep her expression neutral as she waited for the first lord to speak. When no one broke the uncomfortable silence, Trast frowned.

“Is someone going to say something, or shall we sit here all day?”

“Begging your pardon, but I’m not sure how to address you,” said Lord Lehran.

“Hmmm. That’s an excellent point.”

She glanced briefly at Queen Treya, who had turned away to examine one of the tapestries. Apparently, she was on her own in this.

“I think it’s best if you call me milady, since I don’t have an official title yet. Should I be required to take the throne on a temporary basis without the queen present, I would think your highness would be appropriate.”

“Of course, milady. Shall I begin?”

“That would be ideal.”

Lord Lehran cleared his throat. “Lord Allen has recently built a structure that crossed over the boundary between our lands. I want it removed.”

“What kind of structure?”

“A chicken coop.”

“And how far into your lands has he encroached.”

“About three feet, milady.”

“Three feet?”

“Yes, milady.”

“And because he’s three feet past your shared border, you want him to destroy the building and move it back?”

“Yes, milady.”

“Lord Allen?”

“I disagree with the statement altogether. I built this structure on my own land. The claim it is on Lord Lehran’s land is incorrect.”

“So the land between your houses is contested?”

“Yes, milady.”

“And when you built your chicken coop, you knew it was contested.”

“Yes, milady.”

“And there was nowhere else on your entire property you could have built this structure without crossing over into what you knew to be contested territory? Say, three feet further from the undisputed area?”

Lord Allen looked embarrassed. “It is my land, milady.”

“Tell me, how far across is the disputed territory.”

“About ten feet, milady.”

Trast looked at each of the lords in turn. “Ten feet. That’s what we’re talking about here?”

Both lords looked embarrassed.

“Let me get this straight. You find that wasting the crown’s time over a ten-foot dispute during a time of war is the best use of your energies. Have you given in completed tallies to the king? Are your men armed and ready to travel? Have you collected the provisions and other aid you’re providing. Or are you just busy fighting over a chicken coop that happened to cross an imaginary line neither of you can agree on?”

No one said anything. A few nobles shuffled their feet, and Trast realized that perhaps she needed to tone it down, just a bit. If she were eventually to take the throne, these are the very people she would need behind her.

“I think I understand. You’re here because these are nervous times and you want normalcy. This is familiar. It’s something you’ve come to depend on. You get to see the king and queen, or in this case just the queen, and it makes you feel better. Well, good people of Twyl, I have news for you. These are not normal times. You can tell because I’m sitting on the throne, a job I have neither desired nor asked for. But I agreed to help, because these are challenging times, and Queen Treya needs our help.

“We don’t have the time for nonsense. There will always be legitimate issues that have to be resolved, but honestly, ten feet? I bet the border dispute has been going on for decades, if not longer. But you think this is the time to settle it, do you?”

Both of the Lords dropped their heads.

“No, milady,” muttered Lord Allen.

“If it were up to me, the crown would claim that strip of ten feet for itself and turn it into a road that neither of you could build on.”

Queen Treya finally spoke. “It is up to you.”

Lady Trast glanced at her and then back to the men. “What do you gentleman think? Do you think that would solve the problem?”

“Begging your pardon, milady, but maybe we could figure out a way to work it out for ourselves.”

“Are you sure?”

The two men looked at each other and nodded.

“Right,” said Trast. “Any other matters of urgent import that are more important than preparing for war?”

There was dead silence. People looked around. A few dropped their heads as if they didn’t want people to know how petty their own complaints had been.

“Well, I guess we’re done here. Thank you all for coming…”

At that moment, several people were pushed backwards as a wave of force appeared in the center of the throng. A couple of the nobles fell over, but most were just knocked back a few steps. Guards started forward, trying to figure out what was going on.

Captain Gallen Burk took charge. He leaned down to help Lord Lehran to his feet. “Is everyone all right?”

Before anyone could answer, a chirkir appeared in the center of the throne room. On it stood a handful of people, but since they immediately recognized Queen Rhea, the nobles and guards relaxed.

Queen Treya moved forward to greet her. “Ambassador Rhea, you certainly know how to make an entrance.”

Rhea looked around. “Did I interrupt court? I am so sorry.”

“We were done here anyway,” said Lady Trast.

Rhea glanced up and saw she sat on the throne. “What in the name of the gods…”

Queen Treya put a hand over her mouth, which did little to cover her obvious amusement. “We should probably talk.”

Ambassador Rhea nodded. “First, may I present my mother, Queen Raven of Zoloa.”

“Queen Raven, an unexpected pleasure.”

“Emphasis on the unexpected part, I’m sure,” she replied.

Lady Trast stood up. “Thank you all for coming, but this session of the court is over. And just in time as the Queen, apparently, has important matters of state to attend to.”

As the nobility filtered out, Lady Trast and Lady Mere joined Treya.

Queen Raven had been looking around, but suddenly she looked at Treya and spoke. “We need to talk. Alone.”

Treya looked at Rhea who shrugged, indicating she had no idea what her mother was going to say.

“Perhaps,” said Queen Treya, “we should retire to somewhere more private.”

“Should I come too?” asked Trast.

“After that performance, I’d say you’re indispensable. And if you’re going to have to take the throne at some point, you’re going to have to be up on everything, so yes. Your place, from this point forward, is with me.”

Trast ducked her head at the compliment, but didn’t otherwise react. She was just happy that Queen Treya had been okay with the way she had handled the nobles. Until that moment, she hadn’t been sure that she wouldn’t be getting an earful.

*

The parlor was too pink. Horribly pink. The carpet, the furniture, the place mats, the curtains. It was Queen Treya’s least favorite room, but it had the benefit of being located near the throne room. Queen Raven had wanted an audience, and Treya wasn’t convinced she could make it much further. Certainly not to the parlors upstairs. So she’d deal with the pink and listen to what the ruler of Zoloa had to say.

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They were alone. Raven had refused to speak with Lady Trast present. Even her own daughter had been excluded from the audience. Whatever she had to say was for Treya’s ears alone.

“Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Queen Treya.”

“Just Treya, please.”

“Of course. And you may call me Raven. I do not expect you to be especially happy with my reason for coming here, but it is imperative.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I have come here to die.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have a patient here. He has soul damage, as do I. Have you examined him?”

“I have.”

“Will you look at my soul?”

“If you wish.”

“I do. Take your time. There is something I want you to see.”

Treya didn’t know what to expect but cast Soul Salve and projected herself into Raven’s soul. She gasped. It was much like Lord Ormund’s soul. Incomplete. In tatters. She didn’t understand how Raven was still alive.

“I can’t help you. Your soul is too damaged,” said Treya, softly.

“I know that. Look closely. You’re not seeing it.”

Treya did. She changed her view. Advanced. Drew back. She looked for as long as she could take it. Just as she had come to the conclusion that she had no idea what she was looking for, it struck her. Impossible, of course. She must be in error.

She looked again. Slowly. Carefully. Tested the hypothesis again and again. It couldn’t be, but then, what was one more impossibility in a sea of such events.

“You said you came here to die.”

“I did.”

“Does Rhea know?”

“She does not, but she will before you take my life.”

“I do not wish to do this.”

“You have no choice, Treya. You know that. My work here is done, and Ormund’s has yet to begin.”

“How can you know that?”

“I know much. I speak with the chirkir.”

“You think I am capable of doing what needs to be done?”

“I know you are.”

“Tell me, how is it possible that the remains of your soul are almost exactly the opposite of Lord Ormund’s soul?”

“You would call it fate. It’s not, but it’s as close an explanation as I can give you. The important part is that my soul can be used to repair Ormund’s. You have to combine our two souls.”

“Do you realize how mad that sounds? You can’t combine souls.”

“You’re right, of course. I can’t…but you can. And our souls will fit together as if they were the last two pieces of a puzzle just waiting to be put into place. It is the only way to heal him.”

“But you will die.”

“My body will. I’ll live on as part of Ormund. We both have our role to play.”

“What will Rhea say?”

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever she might want to say does not change the fact that this must be done. Everything depends on it.”

“What do you mean by everything?”

“If you are to defeat the Undead King, Lord Ormund must make the journey to the Plains of Xarinos.”

“Even if this works, how will I convince him to do this?”

“Take him with you when you go.”

“I’m not going to Xarinos.”

“Of course you are. Are you so prideful that you still believe you are in control here?”

“No.”

“You will go to Xarinos, and you will take Lord Ormund with you.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? There are those who say you are mad.”

“My dear Treya, let me ask you a question. What are the odds that the damage to my soul directly counterpoints the damage to Lord Ormund’s?”

“I see your point. Will you talk to Rhea before you go?”

“No. You can if you wish.”

“I have no idea what to say to her.”

“Just say what you usually say when this happens.”

“When what happens?”

“When you talk to her. This isn’t the first time.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You always say that.”

“Then I suppose it must be true.”

Treya didn’t bother to argue further. The soul argument was compelling, and she had read accounts of conversations with chirkir. If Raven had been in communication with chirkir all this time, this might well be how it sounds.

Had they put too much trust into the chirkir? What if the chirkir were leading them astray? No, that didn’t make sense either. The gods had all but sent them to the chirkir directly. Whatever they knew had to be relevant…but killing Queen Raven? How would she be able to live with herself?

Queen Treya sighed. This was a complication she didn’t need. But if Raven was right, and the soul damage she had observed suggested that she probably was, then Treya had no choice.

Rhea was going to be furious with her.

*

Thirty-fifth of Learning 1142

The time was approaching, and the chirkir grew excited. They always grew excited at this time. The chirkir weren’t time travelers, at least not in the way it was most often used in science fiction stories. The chirkir instead sensed future probabilities. They ran countless simulations of what might happen, often changing a single detail to observe the result of that change. All chirkir remembered the results of every simulation. When they claimed something had happened before, they meant they had witnessed that moment, since they experienced each simulation as if it had actually occurred. Because of this, they knew exactly where each person was supposed to be if the destiny they strove for were to become a reality.

From their vantage point outside of traditional reality, they could see each piece of the puzzle and where it fit into the whole.

During the two weeks that followed, they watched Queen Treya study the souls of her two patients.

They chattered excitedly as the Misfits of Karmenon searched for the entrance to a dungeon that not all of them believed existed.

They listened as King Terrence worked with the soldiers arriving from further and further afield, while also working with local lords to acquire the men and supplies they’d pledged.

They even watched as Eric learned how to use the workout equipment at a gym in Orientation Village, while Suzanna learned about life on Thysandrika because, unlike the gods, they could see into the Plains of Xarinos.

They thrilled as Dahr, awaiting Striker’s arrival, learned everything he could about his skills, and leveled more during that time than probability would suggest possible. By the time the two weeks were over, he was Level 9, and knew more about threads than even the most skilled of the Brethren.

They grew even more animated as Princess Chari, Kalutu, King Leonid and Zephyr, along with King Terrence’s parents made their way to and over the border into the Kingdom of Melar.

The only thing that had yet to happen was an overdue conversation between Treya and Rhea. Queen Treya put it off for longer than she did in most of the simulations. This concerned the chirkir, and they spent much time talking about it, but in the end, as she had to, the queen invited Rhea to her personal quarters. And the chirkir listened, as they always listened, to hear what the queen would say this time.

*

Treya sat in a comfortable chair in her private quarters. Rhea would be here soon, and she needed to figure out what she was going to say. She’d gone through it over and over again, and kept changing her approach. Rhea would understand. She had no choice. But in a very real sense, Treya was going to perform the procedure that would end her mother’s life. It would be a gut-punch there was no way to pull.

It didn’t matter that Queen Raven had asked for this. It didn’t matter that it was necessary. It probably wouldn’t matter to Rhea that it would heal Lord Ormund. The one inescapable fact that Rhea would take from this is that Treya would be responsible for her mother’s death. She didn’t see how Rhea would ever be able to forgive her.

When the knock on the door came, she didn’t move immediately. She stared at the door prolonging the encounter, taking a few long seconds to compose herself, licked her lips nervously and drew a deep breath. Finally, she called out.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Queen Rhea was there.

“You wanted to see me.”

Treya didn’t say anything at first. What could she say? “Please, sit.”

The last time she had had guests in her personal quarters there had been snacks. Now there was just a bottle of wine with two glasses.

“We need to talk.”

Rhea picked up the gravity in her voice and sat, looking at her with rapt attention.

“Rhea, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come right out. Your mother asked me to perform a procedure to bring Lord Ormund back to us. The result will be Queen Raven’s death. And I’m going to have to perform that ritual. I’m going to have to kill your mother.”

“Okay.”

“What?”

Of all the reactions Treya had been prepared for, that was not one of them.

“You’re the queen here. Your will rules. You wouldn’t do it if you didn’t have to, and my mother asked you to do it. She’s been sick for so long. I know she’s in pain. I can barely remember a time when she hasn’t been. The truth is, the way she looks now, it’s only a matter of time. Will you tell me more?”

Treya opened the wine and poured two glasses. “I just want you to know, I don’t want to do this. If there was any other way…”

“There isn’t. I would imagine that this is the reason she insisted on accompanying me. The reason the chirkir brought us here. It all makes sense now.”

“Not to me. The damage to her soul is such that it reflects the damage done to Lord Ormund’s. As far as I can tell, they each have half a soul, and what she’s missing is in him, and what he’s missing is in her. Combined, the two fragments that remain in each of them might be able to form a single, undamaged soul. Or a least a soul that’s not damaged so much that it can’t heal itself.”

Rhea leaned forward, eyes widening. “You’re going to combine their souls?”

“I am. In Lord Ormund’s body. Your mother, in a very real sense, will cease to exist, at least as an individual. Part of her will live on in Lord Ormund, but it won’t be her.”

“When will you be doing this?”

“Soon. I’m still making sure I understand what needs to be done. But if you want to say goodbye, I wouldn’t put it off. Your mother insists that Lord Ormund needs to get to the Plains of Xarinos if we’re to defeat the Undead King.”

Rhea laughed. Treya’s jaw dropped. “Are you telling me that my mother will take a part in ending the undead threat.”

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

“That’s a noble sacrifice. This is what you were worried to tell me? This is why you’ve been avoiding me?” Rhea chuckled. “I thought I’d done something wrong.”

“What, no! Not at all. I’m sorry, Rhea. I just can’t get the idea out of my head that I’ll be responsible for your mother’s death.”

“Look at her, Treya. Honestly. How long do you think she’d live anyway? And now her death will have meaning. Real meaning. For that matter, her life will have had meaning. I’ve been estranged from my mother for a long time. I barely know her anymore. Her death wouldn’t have hurt me all that much. Knowing that everything I went through with her had some upside isn’t the worst news you could give me. In some ways, this makes everything I’ve been through worth it.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Are you doing this with the intention of causing me pain?”

“No, of course not.”

Treya could see in Rhea’s eyes a compassion and understanding she didn’t feel she deserved. “You’re doing what the gods want. I’d be a pretty poor servant of Mitra if I objected to that.”

Treya started to cry. Rhea got up and went to her, wrapping her arms around her as if they were old friends.

“Treya, I think I understand you. You’re one of the good ones. Chosen of Sheba. How could I possibly question anything you do or say? I know you’d never intentionally hurt me.”

“We barely know each other.”

“That’s true, but you’re family now. I haven’t had a family for a long time. I mean there’s Leonid, but you know, it’s like having another kid. His family is the only family I’ve known, and while they treat me well enough, there’s no closeness there. I’ve had more warmth from you and Terrence than I’ve had since I was a child.”

Treya looked up and met her eyes. “I didn’t know.”

“How could you? So if it’s all the same, I’d like to be a part of your family, if you’ll have me.”

Treya stood up. “Ambassador Rhea. I’m not the only one who’s been chosen by the gods. If you wish to be a part of my family, hell, I’ll adopt you myself.”

Rhea broke out laughing. “Is this wine just for show, or are we going to drink it?”

Treya laughed with her, though she still had tears on her face. “We should drink it. I told Lady Mere to bring me something good. I didn’t even read the label, though in truth, she’s a much better judge of wine than I am.”

“Let’s drink to family,” said Rhea. “And then I’m going to find my mom so I can say goodbye. But don’t worry, Treya. You’re doing the work of the gods here. I’d never blame anyone for that.”

“There’s one more thing…”

“Yes?”

“When Ormund goes to the Plains of Xarinos, I’ll be going with him.”

“What!”

“It’s all part of the plan. I wish I knew more.”

Rhea ducked her head, and whispered as if praying. “Mitra says that when the time comes, you will.”

“Now that I’ll drink to.”

Treya opened and poured the wine. She offered a glass to Rhea, who took it.

“To family,” said Rhea.

“And the will of the gods,” said Treya. “I really hope I don’t screw this up.”

Rhea laughed again. “Treya, I’d wager that the will of the gods is in very good hands.”

“That I’ll also drink to.”

Rhea and Treya drank for a long time. Rhea shared the story of her childhood with Treya, and Treya spoke of a terrible night long ago, when she had lost a child. The wine made it possible to relive the experience without falling apart.

When Rhea finally left, Treya raised her glass one last time to the door as it closed behind her.

“To family, my friend. I’m glad you’re not angry.”

Then she downed what was left in her glass and stood unsteadily. She had to get to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

*

Half-drunk, Rhea knocked on her mother’s door.

“Come in, Rhea.”

Rhea entered. It wasn’t much of a room. It looked more like a servant’s quarters than anything befitting a queen. A small cot, a chest of draws and a single chair upon which her mother sat. Queen Raven preempted her question.

“It’s easier for me to be on the ground level, and this is the only quarters they had available down here. I don’t mind. It’s better than climbing stairs.”

Rhea nodded. “Is there anything you need to make this more comfortable?”

“Come now, Rhea. Do you believe Lady Mere wouldn’t have provided better furnishings had I wanted them? Anyway, you didn’t come here to talk about my comfort.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Treya finally spoke with you.”

“She did. How long have you known?”

“That I was coming here to die? Since you were a child.”

“Why? Why would you do this?”

“Rhea, I’m old…exhausted….in pain. I will finally find peace.”

“So you’re okay with this? This is your soul you’re talking about.”

“What’s left of my soul. Why are you so sad, Rhea. You lost me when you were a child. I’m not your mother anymore. I haven’t been for most of your life. For years I did nothing but feed your father information while he ran the kingdom. When I walked down palace corridors, people looked at me sympathetically, as if I were some sort of damaged child. No one took me seriously except the king. How do you think that felt? You lost your mother. I lost my entire life. I died the day of the accident. There’s nothing I can do about that. But Lord Ormund…he’s done nothing. And he still has a role to play in all that is to come.”

“You know what’s coming…”

“I have ever known. Since you were a little girl, I’ve known. No one believed me, except Lynx. And even he took some convincing.”

“So this is it. After all this time, I’ve finally found you and now I’m to lose you again?”

“Rhea. I haven’t been in your life for forty years. Will you really miss me?”

It was a valid question, and Rhea didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was hoarse with emotion. “No. But I’ll miss what could have been all the more.”

“And that’s okay. But I was born for this purpose and this alone. It is time, finally, for me to perform my function and find peace. You can’t know what its like.”

“What what’s like?”

“Sharing a mind with the chirkir. I’m a human, and they are so much more. You can’t begin to imagine the complications that can cause. The headaches. The confusion. Because my mind isn’t equipped to function on that level. I do the best I can, but all this time, I’ve only been coping…on the rare occasions I was able to.”

“I’m sorry, mom. I didn’t know.”

“I know, Rhea. At first I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t understand it myself. That took more than a decade. By the time I did, you were gone. You had your own life, and I was loathe to connect with you, because even then, I could never guarantee the solidity of that connection. History could have easily repeated itself, and I couldn’t bare to let you down again.”

That stung. All the years Rhea had blamed her mother. The rage she kept trapped inside. The hurt. It was all too much.

“I guess there’s nothing left to say,” she croaked.

“Only this. I love you, my little girl. I have ever loved you.”

Maybe it was the wine, but Rhea suddenly felt close to her mother. Closer than she had since she was a child. “I think, deep down, I always knew that.”

“I’d like to think that’s true, but we both know better.”

Rhea nodded. She didn’t hug her mother. They were beyond that now, but she didn’t leave either. Instead she took a seat on the edge of the bed and sat silently. Neither woman spoke, though she stayed for hours.

They had said all there was to say and there was nothing left but a companionable silence. Each woman had her own thoughts, but neither shared them. The reality was as immutable as the queen’s injury had been. It was the way things were. The way they would be. You had to accept that or go mad.

Queen Raven had had her fill of madness, and Queen Rhea had no intention of surrendering to it.