TRISTAN SAT ON THE BALCONY OF HIS PRIVATE QUARTERS and took another sip of wine. The day had been tiring and the drink was producing its welcome effect. He would purposely imbibe a bit too much this night, he decided, and with good reason. Tomorrow might prove the most momentous day of his life, and he was determined to enjoy this evening.
At the least, the morrow would see his departure from Tammerland-perhaps forever. At the most, his expedition might reach Shashida. What will happen if we do? he wondered, thoughtfully rolling the wineglass between his palms. His emotions about the impending journey remained in conflict, for the prospect of reaching Shashida both thrilled and unnerved him.
He turned to look at the table by his side that was laden with his favorite foods. Roasted quail, loin of beef with ground horseradish, fresh vegetables, black bread, and Shawna’s famous redberry cake all sat waiting to be consumed, their wonderfully pungent aromas drifting into the air. He smiled as he remembered how it had all come to be here.
The ever-industrious Shawna had cooked up a great feast, then insisted in her own inimitable way that the Conclave members hold a farewell dinner before parting ways in the morning. But to her dismay, Tristan put his foot down and ruled against it. He knew that Wigg and Abbey would want to spend this last night quietly, just as he wanted to dine alone with his sister. He might never see Shai again, and he needed to bid her farewell in private.
Putting down the wineglass, he rose from his chair and wandered into his private bedchamber. The room was large and magnificently appointed, and as usual his weapons had been casually tossed atop the great four-poster bed. A marble fireplace stood in one wall, its logs burning brightly.
He sighed as he looked at the lonely urn that held his late wife’s ashes. It rested atop the mantel beside her farewell letter. For a time he had considered taking them with him, then he realized that their rightful place was here, where he and Celeste had spent so many loving hours. As he sadly realized that he might be leaving them behind forever, he closed his eyes. What would she think of this mad scheme? he wondered.
For the thousandth time he recalled his late wife’s beauty, her intelligence, her sensitivity. Celeste had been the love of his life, but now she was gone. She would say that that he must go, he decided, even if it meant never seeing each other again. After all, that was the risk that Wigg and Abbey were taking. Were Celeste alive today, could she and Tristan do less?
Placing his thoughts aside, he walked deeper into the bedchamber and toward a large oak table that stood near the far wall. As he looked at what sat upon it, he again found himself filled with awe.
Late in the afternoon, Wigg and Faegan had attempted the miniaturization of theTammerland and theEphyra. To Tristan’s amazement, the experiment had been a complete success, right down to the thousands of crates and sundry items that the Minions had loaded aboard the ships beforehand. It had been a mesmerizing process to watch, and were the two ships not sitting on the table before him, Tristan would have never believed such a thing possible.
Each Black Ship now measured just over one meter long from bowsprit to stern and about the same distance from the keel to the top of the mainmast. Had he not known differently, he would have thought these ships nothing more than amazingly accurate models. Their sails were furled and they nestled in their new cradles, which had also been miniaturized. When the process was finished, Tristan ordered the ships brought to his quarters for safekeeping. Tomorrow morning they would be crated, and the free space in the crates would be enchanted by Faegan to cushion the vessels during what would surely be a hazardous journey through the labyrinthine caves.
Bending down, Tristan looked more closely. Each ship still twinkled with the subtle matter that had accomplished their miraculous transformations. Wigg and Faegan thought that they might stay that way permanently, and Tristan suspected that the twinkling substance might help camouflage the vessels when sailing on the Azure Sea. Is this something that the Ones planned for? he wondered. Unless we reach Shashida, we might never know.
Walking back to the balcony, he again took up his wineglass. The sun was starting to slip down behind the western horizon. As he watched it disappear, his mind drifted back to the Conclave meeting that he had called immediately after the miniaturization of the ships.
Because of the many important issues to be settled, the meeting had become a spirited, often raucous affair. More than once Tristan had been forced to intervene to keep the discussion civil. The stressful tenor of the meeting had not been because of any personal rancor among the members, he knew. Rather, it was that they would soon be splitting into two groups, and those in each group might never see the others again. Because everyone was eager to see Shashida, trying to decide who would go with Tristan had been a particularly difficult issue to resolve.
In the end it was agreed that Wigg, Tyranny, Scars, Astrid, Phoebe, and Jessamay would accompany Tristan on the expedition. Faegan, Traax, Aeolus, Abbey, and Adrian would stay behind to follow Shailiha into battle against the Viper Lord. Also, theTammerland and theEphyra would carry the same two Minion phalanxes that had trained with Tyranny and Adrian during the recent sea trials. By common agreement it was decided that the Tome, the Scrolls of the Ancients, and the Paragon would stay behind under Faegan’s care.
Tristan refused to allow personal relationships to play a part in these decisions, demanding that his group members be selected only for their unique abilities. Wigg was chosen rather than Faegan largely because of Faegan’s limited mobility. Faegan had been deeply disappointed but agreed that of the two of them, Wigg should be the one to go.
Tyranny was selected because of all the Conclave members she had the most seagoing experience, and that could prove vital. As usual, Scars would serve as her first mate. Because Jessamay commanded the unique ability to determine an endowed’s blood signature lean by looking into his or her eyes, she too was chosen. The acolytes Astrid and Phoebe would relieve Wigg and Jessamay in the piloting of the Black Ships. Marissa and another acolyte would remain behind to pilot theCavalon and theIllendium under Shailiha’s command.
But the most distressing problem-and the one that would have no resolution until Tristan’s group entered the Caves of the Paragon-was how to find the subterranean Azure Sea.
Tristan was the only Conclave member who had seen it, and sometimes even he wondered whether it had been real or some mad dream. Wigg had been with him at the time, but unconscious. It was on the sandy shores of that strange sea that Tristan and Wigg were scooped up and flown away by Nicholas’ hatchlings, only to be released by Nicholas after suffering cruelly at his hands. By that time Tristan had also lost consciousness, ensuring that neither he nor Wigg knew how far the hatchlings had carried them or how long it had taken. Even if they could find the sea again and restore the ships to their original size, they would be literally sailing into the unknown.
Will Shashida really lie on the other side? he wondered. And if so, how long might it take to reach it?
Just then a soft knock came on the double doors. Tristan walked over and opened them to see his sister standing there. Morganna stood by her side and Caprice floated lightly overhead.
Tristan smiled and beckoned them into the room. Shailiha looked radiant in a yellow gown, matching satin slippers, and a golden chain. The medallion lying against her bosom twinkled in the candlelight. Three-year-old Morganna looked adorable in a red dress fringed with white lace.
As Shailiha escorted Morganna into the room and Caprice obediently followed, the princess put on a brave smile. Tonight would be difficult for her and Tristan. They had seen the death of their parents, and each had lost a spouse whom they loved more than life. So far, the journey toward fulfilling their common destinies had been terribly costly. Without saying so, each understood that despite how much they had already endured, their struggle was far from over. And tomorrow they would part, perhaps forever.
“I thought you’d never come,” Tristan said as cheerfully as he could.
Shailiha’s eyes widened as she watched her ever-curious daughter walk toward the Black Ships. “Don’t touch!” she cautioned.
Morganna stopped and turned, her bright eyes still curious but respectful. “I won’t, Mamma,” she said. She quickly turned back again to look with that innocent, wide-eyed gaze that it seems only children can muster.
Tristan was soon reminded of how much Morganna was starting to resemble her late grandmother. The queen had been a remarkable woman, and she was many years ahead of her time. It had been she who had convinced the late Directorate of Wizards to break with more than three hundred years of tradition and again allow the teaching of the craft to females. This teaching had taken place at a secret castle called Fledgling House nestled at the base of the Tolenka Mountains. Some of those girls, and a group of specially selected sons of the Redoubt Consuls, now took their training in a similar school in the Redoubt.
Morganna will soon attend that school, Tristan thought. Then his smile faded as he remembered that he might never see that day. He looked back at his sister.
“Would you like some wine?” he asked.
Shailiha nodded vigorously. “After hearing the Conclave members bicker for two hours, I could use some!” she answered. She turned to look at her daughter. “Come, Morganna!” she said.
Shailiha escorted her daughter to the balcony and boosted Morganna into one of the chairs. As might be expected, Morganna’s eyes went straight for the cake icing. Before Shailiha realized it, the child had poked three of her fingers into it and shoved them straight into her waiting mouth. Her satisfied smile said it all.
Tristan laughed as he poured another glass of wine. “She takes after her mother,” he chided. “It seems that she’s developing your taste for sweets.”
Shailiha wiped Morganna’s mouth, then quickly moved the cake a safe distance from her daughter’s energetic fingers. “So you noticed, did you?” she asked. After fixing a proper plate and cutting the food for the child, the princess took her first sip of wine.
For a time Tristan and Shailiha ate Shawna’s delicious food in relative silence, with few sounds to accompany them aside from the night creatures and Caprice’s delicate wings fluttering overhead. They dawdled over their food, realizing that the meal provided a welcome reprieve from the conversation that would follow. But after finishing two slices of cake and several cups of tea, they both knew that the time had come.
Shailiha looked over to see that Morganna had fallen asleep in her chair. The princess carried her into Tristan’s bedroom and laid her on the bed. After moving Tristan’s weapons to a nearby sofa, she again joined her brother on the balcony. As he looked into her eyes he could see tears welling.
Leaning closer, Shailiha took his hands into hers. “Please be careful,” she said quietly. “I know that you must do this thing. More than once you have gone away only to return. But tomorrow might be very different. No one knows where the Azure Sea will take you or what you might have to face to get there. And we have only recently seen the coded message left by the Ones that tells us you are doing the right thing. That spell was likely written aeons ago-Wigg said so himself. What if it is no longer true? What if thePon Q’tar is out there waiting for you instead? What if-”
Tristan gently placed his fingers against her lips. “There can be no more ‘what ifs,’” he said. “I’m going and that’s that. Of course I’ll do my best to return. But if I do not, you must be prepared to rule Eutracia. Value the advice of the remaining Conclave members, but make each decision your own. They’re not always right, you know.” Smiling again, he wiped away one of her tears.
“Besides,” he added, “as you said, they certainly like to bicker!”
“Yes,” Shailiha added, “especially Wigg and Faegan.”
Tristan reached out to take her medallion into his hand. “Don’t forget this,” he said reassuringly. “You can see me whenever you want. But remember-do not overuse the spell, and be sure that the medallion remains in your possession at all times. When Miriam charmed our medallions, she warned me of these things. Always keep them in mind.”
Tristan let the medallion fall back onto Shailiha’s chest. “Have the Viper Lord and his followers been sighted?” he asked.
Shailiha shook her head. “Even the Night Witch patrols cannot find them. It’s as if they dropped off the face of the earth. How can a force that large simply vanish?”
Tristan shook his head. “They might be using the craft to help them hide,” he offered. “But it would seem that even a wizard as powerful as the Viper Lord would eventually tire and reveal his position. I admit that it’s puzzling. When you find them, let Faegan help form your plan. But when it comes to the very real and dirty business of fighting, take your advice from Traax. You can rely on his judgment completely. In many ways I wish he was coming with me. But because only two phalanxes sail with my group, he will better serve us here.”
Deciding that the time had come to say goodbye, Tristan smiled at his sister as best he could. “If I don’t come back-”
“Don’t say that,” she insisted. “I just know that-”
Just then another knock came on the double doors. Wondering who it might be, Tristan rose from his chair.
“Enter,” he called out softly, trying not to wake Morganna.
The doors parted to reveal Aeolus standing there. Tristan beckoned him inside. After Aeolus paid his respects to the princess, Tristan bade him sit down. The mystic’s expression was serious.
“Forgive the intrusion, Jin’Sai, but I wanted to speak with you privately before you leave tomorrow,” he said.
“Is something wrong?” Tristan asked.
Aeolus gave Tristan a weary smile. “Do you mean aside from Eutracia being overrun by beings of the Vagaries and you and half the Conclave sailing off into the unknown tomorrow?” he asked. “Truth be told, before you leave I want to talk to you about your gift ofK’Shari. ”
Suddenly the wizard’s expression darkened a bit. “If this is a private moment, I will gladly return later,” he added quietly.
Tristan smiled. “Whatever you would say to me you can say in Shai’s presence as well,” he answered. “There are no secrets between us.”
“Good,” Aeolus answered. He poured a glass of wine and took a discerning sip, then looked into Tristan’s eyes.
“I wish we had been able to train together longer,” he said. “Even so, I have come to understand that you are the real master and I the student. Always remember that yourK’Shari will be stronger than mine because your blood is much more powerful. During your travels, should you need to call on your gift, you must be careful. Do not become overconfident, and take nothing for granted.”
Tristan’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Before answering, Aeolus set his glass on the table. “The beings you might meet on the other side are presumably far more advanced than we-especially in the science of the craft,” he said. “Moreover, the forestallment formula that granted youK’Shari was found in one of the Scrolls. That means that they had the gift long before we did. If you must fight, always remember that your opponent might commandK’Shari too-and to a higher degree and with greater experience than you possess. Furthermore, your gift is called forth automatically, while mine is not, and only your sword glows with the color of the craft. Despite many hours of searching for an answer, Wigg, Jessamay, and I still cannot explain it. You must trust in your gift, for that is all you can do. Do not fight the feeling when it comes over you, and let your actions flow through your body naturally. Only then might you defeat an enemy on the other side with equal talents.”
Tristan appreciated Aeolus’ advice. During the battle to retake the Recluse, fighting techniques both armed and unarmed had come to him unexpectedly and effortlessly, allowing him to do wondrous things. And his sword had indeed glowed with the color of the craft.
Later in Crysenium he had fought and defeated Xanthus, his first opponent who also commanded the gift ofK’Shari. The battle had raged like some desperate war between two titans. Whenever Tristan’s dreggan or Xanthus’ axe missed its target and struck something else, they had utterly destroyed it. Tristan had never felt such power, and he had to admit that a part of him was eager to experience it again. But until now he had not considered the dangers that Aeolus was describing. Like Wigg and Faegan, sometimes Aeolus could make him feel very small.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I hadn’t looked at it that way. Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Aeolus answered. “And now I will take my leave.”
As the mystic stood, Tristan stood with him. “Please watch over my sister while I’m away,” the prince said. “I’m relying on you two to destroy the Viper Lord and his servants.”
Aeolus gave Tristan reassuring wink. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he answered. After saying good night to Shailiha he let himself out, the doors closing quietly behind him.
Tristan continued to gaze at the closed doors for several moments, thinking.
“He’s a good man,” he finally said. “Despite what our mystics might say about the quality of your blood and mine, we’ll never fully appreciate everything they’ve gone through for the sake of the Vigors. Sometimes I have to force myself to remember that each of them is more than three centuries old.”
Shailiha looked back at Morganna to see that her daughter was still fast asleep. When she looked back at her brother, her expression was sad but resigned.
“It’s late and we should go,” she said. “Just promise me that you’ll return.”
Tristan stood, as did his sister. He gave her a short smile.
“Such a promise would be unfair,” he answered. “But I will do my best. In your absence make sure that Shawna looks after Morganna. You could never find a better nanny, despite how ornery she can be!”
Shailiha’s laugh sounded brittle and forced-as if she wanted to let go but couldn’t find it within her to do so. Grabbing the lapels of Tristan’s worn leather vest, she tugged on them and gave him a ferocious look.
“Just come back,” she ordered. “Don’t force me to come to Shashida and find you!”
The princess went to take Morganna into her arms, the child grumbling softly before settling back down into a deep sleep. On reaching the doors Shailiha gave her brother a final, lingering look, then she was gone. Sighing deeply, Tristan sat down again and sipped his wine.
Goodbye, my sister, he thought. May we each find what we’re searching for.
As it happened, he would not sleep that night, but sat on the balcony until dawn, lost in his thoughts.
Robert Newcomb
Rise of the Blood Royal