Blue Core Week Forty-Six (Patreon)

Day 136 – Iniri

Iniri woke up exhausted.

She was wrung out, worn thin and threadbare, a pale shadow of her usual self. At least, that’s how she felt, though lifting her hand to the light showed her flesh wasn’t actually translucent, no matter that it seemed it ought to be. Iniri wasn’t sure whether it was simply how she was feeling or how faded Tarnil was, but she was certain she was only partly there. Nor were her surroundings dim and dingy and desolate, despite her mood. They were, in fact, quite homey and warm, though she couldn’t exactly place herself until she sat upright in bed and caught sight of a familiar shade of blue glowing under the door.

It was only then that she remembered the cottage, remembered blubbering all over Shayma before being helped to a bed when she’d cried herself nearly senseless. Not a very queenly thing to do, but she couldn’t be Queen all the time. At the moment she was quite thoroughly sick of it.

[Queen’s Insight], the Skill that she had so marveled at just a few days ago, was more of a curse now. She could feel Tarnil dying, and it was her hand that had wielded the blade. It might have been doomed anyway – without [The Light of Eschaton] they would have been overrun, she would have been captured or killed, and Blue probably couldn’t stand off the army by himself. That didn’t make it hurt any less. From the Waste to the southern tip where the Wildwood was, it was faded, though the cities themselves stood out curiously as being even more wan and powerless than the rest.

If that were the only thing [Queen’s Insight] were telling her that would be bad enough. A dying Tarnil might possibly be revived, even if it was extraordinarily unlikely to judge by the Great Northern Waste. A dying Tarnil certainly wouldn’t be revived if it also had an army marching in from Nivir.

Compared to the massive swarm of the Tor Kot’s forces it was tiny. Almost certainly it was a more mundane sort of deployment, of second- and third-tier Classers with a supply chain behind it. But even at that size, it wasn’t something she could reply to. The army was down at the south end of Tarnil, the entire opposite side of the country, and even Blue couldn’t simply transport her Classers down there. Assuming she had the forces to deal with that, and retake her cities. Or to retake her cities in the first place, since Meil had shown it was a mistake to think that even with the bulk of Tor Kot’s forces gone it would be particularly easy to seize them.

Even thinking that far ahead was too much of a weight. Iniri groaned and flopped back down, but now that she was awake her mind wouldn’t settle. Worse, there was a second, creeping bit of sensation from [Queen’s Insight] that she had no idea how to understand. It felt like something was coming up from underneath Tarnil, but it wasn’t an army or some forgotten leviathan. Maybe it was Ansae, who was still mostly a question mark despite, or perhaps because of, her obvious power.

With a groan she got to her feet, still dressed in the rumpled battle-robes of the night before, stretching and feeling vaguely guilty that she didn’t ache all over. She located her boots and slid them on before taking a deep breath and opening the door. For some reason the impersonal slab of blue crystal was reassuring, a reminder that there were still bigger and more powerful things in the world to rely on.

Shayma popped into the room a few seconds after Iniri emerged, looking more than a little anxious. Before she said even one word, the fox-girl gave her a hug which Iniri could readily admit she desperately needed. It was nice, but not nearly enough to make the pit inside her go away, so eventually she sighed and let Shayma go.

“What happened after Blue brought me here?” She wasn’t quite up to talking about Keel and Harold. Not yet.

“Blue had everyone else head back to Meil. We brought the injured to the manse we had cleared for that and everyone went back to their own places.” Shayma shrugged. “Everything’s quiet. Tor Kot hasn’t come back. Nothing’s happened.”

“That...” Iniri sighed. “That’s not true. I suppose I should talk to Cheya.”

“She wanted to see you,” Shayma agreed. “But Blue wouldn’t let her in the core room. I’ve never seen her face do that.” That drew an unexpected laugh from Iniri. She well knew how strange it was when something broke through Cheya’s normal unflappability.

“Let’s go, then.” She let Shayma lead her out the door, over the bridge on the lake and to the teleport pad. Blue had given her the ability to trigger it, which was still a strange feeling, like a disused Skill at the back of her mind. Fortunately she didn’t have to worry about figuring it out this time, since either Blue or Shayma took her through the two short hops to Meil.

Joce and Cheya were there waiting, which made Iniri wonder if Shayma had gone to inform them the moment she was awake, but she didn’t have any real objections to it. She had to stop moping and move forward anyway, no matter how much she wanted to take the day off. Neither of the other two looked any more enthusiastic than she did, but it wasn’t like there was much to be cheerful about.

“Your Majesty,” Cheya, curtseying while Joce bowed. “Are you well?”

“Hardly,” Iniri said, her laugh coming out a trifle shaky. “I don’t think I’ve been worse, but there’s nothing to be done about that. How is everyone else? The mood in Meil? The Classers?” Cheya gestured toward the manor, flanking her to one side while Joce took the other. Shayma, unusually, was escorting her as well. That did make her feel better; perversely, she felt she could trust Blue more than most of the people she thought were loyal to her, solely because he hadn’t existed long enough to find his loyalties. He was not loyal to her, but neither would he betray her to some unseen and unguessed master.

“The mood is…” Cheya paused, choosing her words with care. “Restive. Everyone could feel the effects of the weapon, and the sense of ending. I don’t know how many of them properly understand what it portends. I am not certain I understand,” she admitted. “But we’re far from any actual unrest, partly thanks to your lights.”

“That’s better than I expected,” Iniri sighed. “I feel like the world’s just crashing down and there’s nothing I can do about it. Why did Keel do it?”

“Your Majesty,” Cheya paused so they could enter the mansion, climbing the steps up to the more private office above. “He was Nivirese. I cannot say for certain if he somehow replaced the real Keel after the invasion, since we lacked proper Status screening, or was a deep agent, waiting for years. I cannot be certain why he took that precise moment, though.”

“I do,” Iniri said grimly, dropping heavily into her seat behind her desk. To her displeasure, the chair was sturdy enough and she was small enough that it didn’t even groan. “[The Light of Eschaton] used up Tarnil’s fate. Its past and its future. All the momentum and weight of the land, the spirit of its people, its dreams and ambitions, its very potential to become. I could feel it. Maybe he wouldn’t have normally, but with that gone any hold Tarnil had on his soul went with it.”

Joce was deathly pale. Cheya stared for a moment herself and swallowed. Shayma swished her tail, once, ears swiveling this way and that as she listened. Iniri waited a moment, in case Blue had some miracle to share, but Shayma remained silent.

“Is there any hope?” Cheya asked at last.

“I really don’t know,” Iniri sighed. “But that’s not even all of it. Sometime between yesterday and now, Nivir invaded. Or at least sent an army.”

“Without a war declaration?” Cheya’s eyebrows arched.

“If Keel had succeeded, there’d be nobody to send a war declaration to. They could declare even now, and not unreasonably so, that they were merely providing aid and structure to the citizens of Tarnil. It’s not like Tor Kot cares about anything much further west than the cities, and the army is headed south along the western side of Tarnil. To Wildwood.” Iniri smiled grimly and didn’t bother to mention the other itch that she still couldn’t make sense of. That could wait for later. “I suppose they saw us fighting Tor Kot and figured it’d be a good time to sneak in and slice off the only chunk of Tarnil they really care about.”

“What do we do?” Joce spoke up, looking about as lost as she felt.

“We send a message to Monat. I’m sure he can hold them off, if he wants.” Iniri frowned thoughtfully. “The question is if he will. They don’t need to take Wildwood from him directly to make it fait accompli, and there’s no telling how much effort he’ll feel like putting forth for Tarnil under the circumstances.”

“I haven’t lost my loyalties,” Cheya said firmly, and Iniri smiled.

“Me either,” Joce added. “I still can’t believe it about Keel.”

“I appreciate that, both of you.” She took a deep breath. “At the very least, Tor Kot will want to keep the cities intact so he’ll be helping resist the effects of [The Light of Eschaton]. This may let us steal some right out from under him. That will depend on how Blue wants to play this.”

“Um,” Shayma said in reply. “Actually there’s something else, just now. One of Tor Kot’s elites delivered another message cylinder.”

“Now what?” Iniri groaned. She couldn’t get even ten minutes to catch her breath. “Joce, could you check it? Shayma, could you please have Blue put it in the shielded room down the hall?”

“Yes…” Shayma’s ears flicked as she frowned. “Blue’s worried. Miriam is hanging around at the edge of his territory.”

“Miriam?”

“Tor Kot names his elites,” Shayma explained. “He’s very odd.”

Iniri slumped in her chair, rubbing her temples. She couldn’t imagine what Tor Kot wanted to say. It wasn’t like either of them were going to surrender, and so far he’d never bothered with idle threats. That left actual threats, which led her to sit upright in her chair, looking around the room. Thankfully the Fortress cubes were there, on the desk to the side.

“Blue says it was damaged by [The Light of Eschaton],” Shayma commented, seeing where her gaze went. “But it’s been pulling mana so he thinks it’s repairing itself.”

She winced. The Fortress was the one thing they had that closed the gap in power between the mage-kings and more ordinary mortals. Even fourth-tiers hadn’t managed to make an impression, and and she was fresh out of those. Yamal was still unconscious a building over, The Hurricane was actively opposing them, and Liril hadn’t shown himself since the battle. She assumed he’d be back at some point, but maybe not until it was clearly safe. If the Fortress was out of commission, even for a short time, they were frighteningly vulnerable.

“Does anyone else have some more bad news?” Iniri asked rhetorically. “I’d rather have it all now than spread it out over the rest of the day.”

“My Queen,” Cheya said suddenly. “I apologize. I failed you. I should have known Keel wasn’t to be trusted. I should have known that years back, and never have cleared him for the Queensguard.”

Iniri looked at Cheya, seeing the pain on her face. The [Spymistress] was in some ways more of a mother than her own mother had been, and had been a fixture in her life since she could remember. Cheya had kept her alive through the invasion, not to mention her efforts during Iniri’s leveling and the little time she’d properly ruled. It seemed fundamentally wrong to see the assured, cool-headed Cheya look so lost.

“Cheya, you have done a better job than anyone could have. You’ve done the impossible. I don’t expect you to keep the entire world in line for me.” She stood up and beckoned Cheya forward, pulling her into a confused and awkward hug. “I knew him just as long as you did. Don’t blame yourself. I certainly don’t.”

“I…” Cheya trailed off, at a loss for what to say. “Thank you, my Queen.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Iniri told her. “I’m going to need you to help me figure out how to handle this most recent disaster.”

“Yes, of course,” Cheya said, with maybe a little more life in her voice than before. Iniri wasn’t certain what else she could do to make Cheya feel better, but she deserved whatever Iniri could give. Joce re-entered the room and Iniri released Cheya, letting her take her usual place as Joce handed over a scroll. Bracing herself Iniri unfurled it and started to read.

Queen Iniri,

I pride myself on knowing when risks are too dangerous to take and I admit that my time in Tarnil did not prepare me for the forces that you have brought against me. Since you did not use either this Artifact of yours nor did you field that strange young woman when we first landed, I assume the backer that your servant mentioned, this ‘Blue,’ is your benefactor. A backer that can wield Fate Affinity is not one I wish to contend with.

Vok Nal underestimated you and we both know how that ended up. He was naïve and frankly completely unsuited to the role, but should have been able to stand up to everything we knew this section of the world had. That was not the case. For myself, I have already lost two of the six cores I brought with me.

Perhaps I have lost them to you and perhaps not. I don’t know for certain and that is yet another troubling issue. There are too many unknowns here, arriving far too quickly.

Four matured cores are not something I will risk, so I am taking them and leaving. I leave the Meil core to you, and I advise you to be exceedingly careful. They are dangerous enough when properly attended to; they are even worse if left to grow of their own accord. Do keep in mind that with my cores gone, the four cities in question will need immediate attention to prevent their collapse.

I realize this puts you in a difficult position. Personally, I have nothing against your people, but there is no way to exit both quickly and gracefully. Frankly, I would rather you spend your attentions on them than on pursuing me. I do not expect to ever see you again, unless you wish to share the secret of your servant’s Depletion resistance, in which case I would welcome a visit.

Unfortunately, I am not the only Controller invested in the events here in Tarnil. Vok Lim will not take the death of his son kindly, and there are others on the Council who will not abide any outsider having control of two cores. It may be sooner or it may be later, but you may be assured you will see the Voks and their allies at your shores.

Miriam will be lingering for a short time in case you have any reply, but once she departs I will be leaving as well. It may be hypocritical and even treasonous for me to wish you well, but I do. I am bound by necessity, but I am not blind to other virtues.

Tor Kot.

Iniri read through it once, then again, fingers trembling and not at all sure what to think. They’d done it. They’d won. The mage-kings were gone, but the victory was bitter ashes.

The cost had been so high. Maybe too high. The triumph was not even a proper one, something distant and delivered by paper, not personal like it had been when she’d killed Vok Nal. Besides, it didn’t really feel like she’d won, more that Tor Kot had and was now sauntering off with his ill-gotten gains while she picked up the pieces. It wasn’t like the army she had cost him was really a loss for him, since he could always make more monsters. Now the reason for the cities feeling so powerless was clear. Their animating force, which had been dungeons and not people, was gone.

“Iniri? What is it?” Shayma’s voice broke her from whatever reverie she’d found herself in. She found that she was gripping the missive far too tightly, wrinkling the strange paper, and she had to purposefully relax her hands. Instead of answering she handed the message to Shayma to let her read for herself.

Iniri watched as Shayma’s eyes lit up when Tor Kot said he was leaving, and then the worry creeping in as she realized what this meant. When she finished, she frowned and said nothing, but handed it to Cheya, who started her own perusal. Unlike Shayma, Cheya’s expression didn’t reveal anything about what she was thinking, but she too said nothing once she had read it through, finally letting Joce have the message.

“It’s a mess,” he said at last, and she nodded.

“[Queen’s Insight] already tells me that Tor Kot is pulling out, which means the plans we had are useless. Taking one city after another, a grand sweep south…well, it would be difficult, but we would gain with each reclamation. We would have time to organize ourselves, even if we couldn’t confront Nivir’s army directly until we were very sure of ourselves.” She waved a hand at the parchment. “Now we have four cities that will fall to wrack and ruin if we can’t reach them in days.”

“Not to mention Nivir’s army,” Cheya murmured.

“Not to mention that,” Iniri agreed. “That’s not all, either. There’s something coming up from below. I have no idea what, [Queen’s Insight] only goes so far.”

“That might actually have more to do with Blue,” Shayma said thoughtfully. “His tunnels connect to the lowroads. Not directly, but they do.”

“I didn’t realize there were any around here,” Cheya said in surprise. Iniri just raised her eyebrows.

“Lowroads?” She inquired. Iniri felt rather left out, that both Cheya and Shayma knew about this but she didn’t. Joce shared a looked mutual incomprehension with her.

“There are kingdoms deep, deep underground,” Cheya explained. “They don’t care for or about the surface, and last I knew there weren’t any nearby. Wildwood isn’t important to them, and neither is Nivir’s Great Dungeon.”

That tickled a faint recollection, and she realized she really ought to have known that. With all the stress her memory felt full of holes. Then she shook her head, because it was irrelevant. Whatever was coming up through the lowroads was taking its time about it, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it anyway. If it was coming for Blue, that was his business. Unless he asked for her help, which, considering the relative balance of debts, she’d be obliged to provide. Not that she had much to help with.

“Oh, before I forget, Blue told me that Haerlish is on their way now,” Shayma said. “They figure you’ll be too busy with other things to contest extorting resources from him. Actually, he doubts whether they know you’re alive.” Iniri groaned.

“I thought I asked you to give me bad news earlier.”

“Cheya had more important things to say.” Shayma at least looked guilty. “Blue has an idea of how to deal with Haerlish that he’s going to need to send me out for very soon, though. Today, maybe.”

“We need a strategy meeting,” Iniri said. “We need to plan.” Though nothing came to mind. It wasn’t possible to plan around an impossible cliff. She hadn’t even had time to pay her respects to Harold before the world had come crashing down on them. “No matter what we do, Blue is going to be involved so we need to do it before Shayma leaves.” Cheya looked from Joce, to Shayma, to Iniri.

“We do not have much strategy to cover. Bluntly, my Queen…” She waited for a nod from Iniri, who knew there wasn’t much they could do. “We have effectively no resources. We have perhaps two hundred Classers. In the next three days we need to take and reorganize four cities, fend off an army from Nivir, hold off a fourth-tier that is a known army-killer, and deal with unknowns from below Tarnil. These objectives are spread over five hundred miles, and we will be working against whatever problems [The Light of Eschaton] has caused.”

Whatever faint hope Iniri had that her [Spymistress] might work another miracle vanished. Cheya had gotten them out of Taere, out of Duenn, out of Meil. Cheya had kept them together, had found agents and turned up spies, and had been her first and best advisor for a very long time. There were whispers that it was really Cheya who ran the country, and while that wasn’t true it wasn’t as wrong as it might be. This time Cheya’s summary was identical to how she figured it, which was hopeless.

“There is one option,” Cheya said slowly. “I don’t know what it would mean for you, my Queen, or for Tarnil, but there is one option for those who are desperate.” She pointed at Shayma. “You could ask for a Bargain.”

“Um,” said Shayma.

Iniri took a breath. That was something she hadn’t really been considering, even in her heart of hearts. So far her deals with Blue had been carefully nothing more than ordinary agreements, this for that, as individuals. Even though she’d gained immensely, mostly because Blue had so much power a mere trifle for him was astounding to her, they were made on more or less even ground.

A Bargain was a plea for help. It was begging a Power for a miracle and the price was always steep. Shayma had come out ahead on her Bargain — so long as she served Blue and he never felt it necessary or expedient to overrule her. Without that thin thread she’d bartered away everything she was and could be for a temporary shelter. Even now, the only reason Blue still hosted them was that they had a common enemy. A common enemy that had just fled the field.

They needed help. They needed a miracle, but the question was if she was willing to pay for it. Iniri alone wouldn’t be the one paying the price. The miracle was for Tarnil; Tarnil would pay for it. At the moment Tarnil didn’t have much to pay with, at least so far as Iniri knew, but that didn’t matter. Powers could take things in payment that people didn’t know they had. Or didn’t exist yet. Or were just impossible to imagine.

Normally Iniri would say no and keep striving to do things the right way, but these weren’t normal times. Even Cheya thought it was the only option, and the Iniri that would have rejected it from pride or fear was burnt out, exhausted, slumbering. There was only the practical and logical Queen left, who knew that there was only one thing that could save the men and women of Tarnil, even if she and Tarnil itself ceased to exist. Certainty settled upon her brow, the weight of a crown, and upon her shoulders, the weight of lives.

“Shayma,” she said calmly. “I seek an audience with Blue.”

“Er, you can talk to him right now?”

“This must be official.” Iniri insisted. “I’m coming to him as the Queen of Tarnil, not as myself. I’m not looking for a simple business transaction. What I need is the impossible.” Shayma looked like she was about to argue, but her ears flicked as Blue said something to her. Whatever it was quelled her protest, and instead she inclined her head.

“Blue will provide a portal to the audience chamber,” Shayma said, and gestured to the far wall, and with a flicker of condensed mana a perfect rectangle appeared, looking in on a place of flowing mana and lava and strangely patterned walls. “When you are ready, step through and he will hear your petition.” So saying, she got up and went through the portal herself, vanishing into the room beyond.

“Is there no other way?” Joce asked quietly. “I mean, I know the situation is bad and Blue seems mostly friendly, but I can’t imagine how we can possibly afford this.”

“That’s the point,” Iniri sighed. “We can’t. If we could afford the cost then we would be able to do it ourselves instead, or otherwise make some sort of deal. There’s not even any guarantee Blue will deal with me in a Bargain, but that’s part of the point. They’re only for the desperate.” She turned to Cheya. “I know we’ve lost most of our baggage train, but I think for this we should scrape together the best clothing and jewelry I still have.” She brushed down her rumpled dress. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

“I’ll call your maids,” Cheya said, though only two had made it all the way to Meil with Iniri. She was grateful that they had, since they had never been trained or meant for the long slog and scramble that had brought them all the way to Blue. But they’d stuck doggedly by her side, picking up skills and Skills in the process, and someday she’d find the proper way to thank them.

Some time later, Iniri stepped through the portal, clad in a freshly-pressed dress of Tarnil blue trimmed with silver. More silver ringed her wrists and ankles and antlers as cool metal bands, and the signet ring of Tarnil weighed heavily on her finger. Finally, she was actually wearing her crown, something that was traditionally only for the pinnacle of royal occasions. Some of the other pieces of her regalia had gone missing, either destroyed or simply lost in occupied cities, and had been replaced with her own light constructs made permanent, twinkling on her fingers and dress. She was as officially dressed as she ever had been.

It wasn’t the first time she’d been in Blue’s audience chamber, but this time was different. This time she could feel the weight of a Power’s attention, which lent an additional dimension to the splendor displayed there. To the point where she wondered if it was purposefully distracting. The glowing flowers and lava, the falling water, the spiraling designs, all that was impressive. But it didn’t show the things like providing her with near-infinite mana, or casually playing with spatial magic, or producing Artifacts apparently at a whim.

Shayma was waiting on the platform in front of what Iniri knew was a false core. Part of her wondered whether Blue would eventually be so powerful that he could use a real core, or if he would never bother. She still didn’t really know Blue, since everything was indirect, so she didn’t know if he was paranoid or full of ego or simply focused on things beyond mortal ken. Cheya and Joce remained behind her, near the back of the audience chamber, as she ascended the dais and looked up at Shayma.

“Blue, I wish to make a Bargain.”

END OF BOOK ONE