“Thank you. I—” Ven pulled back from her. “Queen Merecot.”
All of them turned to see Merecot march through the garden. She was flanked by her armored guards, as well as three spirits. These spirits were all earth spirits, and they looked like they were pottery come to life. Shaped like dogs, their hides were hardened clay, and their eyes were hollowed-out holes. “So happy to see you’re enjoying my gardens.”
“We’re not,” Ven said blandly. “We’re just plotting against you.”
That caused Merecot to halt in her tracks. Hanna wished she were close enough to elbow Ven in the stomach and was happy to see Naelin do it for her. Don’t bait her, she thought at him. There was a time and a place for humor, and she was not certain Merecot possessed any of it whatsoever.
“Can you tell us why you targeted Bayn?” Ven asked, his voice still pleasant, as if he were asking about the layout of the gardens. “You called him the Protector of Queens. What did you mean by that? What is he?”
Hanna watched Merecot’s face with amusement—She wants to lash out, but she knows she shouldn’t. She clearly didn’t like that Hanna had brought them to the gardens, rather than allowing them to be escorted to the baths as planned, and she just as clearly didn’t like to be questioned. She’s still both insecure and arrogant. Perhaps she even regretted some of her choices. Not that she’ll ever admit it . . . and not that I’d believe her anyway.
Merecot settled on a benign half-smile. “According to Queen Jastra, he was some kind of ‘evolved spirit,’ tasked with protecting you or Daleina or whomever bore the crown. She’s studied the nature of spirits very closely and believed he could have caused trouble. She recommended he be removed.” She waved her hand as if dismissing the entire episode as inconsequential. “This was back when I was targeting your queens, of course. Now that we’re negotiating, the situation has changed.”
“Of course it has,” Ven murmured.
“Removing him was just a precaution,” Merecot said. “You weren’t supposed to ever discover how he died.”
Ven made a sound very close to a growl. “You could show some remorse.”
“Very sorry about your pet,” Merecot said, then she frowned and held up a hand. “No, I am sorry. If he was just an ordinary wolf, he didn’t deserve his fate. But it is the fate of all of Semo that concerns me.”
It concerned Hanna as well.
Semo had too many spirits.
Aratay had too many queens.
There is another obvious answer, Hanna thought, one that isn’t Merecot’s plan of abdication . . . but I don’t know if any of the queens will like it. “Our land has its problems as well, but I believe these problems share a common solution,” Hanna said in her most definitive I-know-best headmistress voice. “You have too many spirits; we have too many queens. One of our queens must release her hold on our spirits and take control of your excess spirits. She can then bring them into Aratay under her command, and tie to them to the barren regions in our land.”
It’s the perfect solution, Hanna thought. Poetic even. Merecot was smart—she’d see the logic in the idea, wouldn’t she? If she truly means what she says about saving her people . . .
“I’m not giving up my power—” Merecot began.
“You would keep Semo, with as many spirits as needed to keep the land alive, but only as many as you can handle to keep it stable. All you’d lose would be the excess spirits, and they cost you too much energy to control.” Hanna kept her voice pleasant and smooth, the voice of a reasonable teacher, even though she wanted to shake the queen and say, Listen to me, you foolish child!
“Not practical,” Merecot dismissed the idea. “Naelin would have to relinquish control of the spirits of Aratay. I won’t have such a powerful queen lurking on my border.”
“Fine,” Naelin said.
Merecot blinked at her. “Excuse me? You’d really give up power that easily?”
“I said I’d abdicate to save my children. How is this different?”
“Yes, but . . . I didn’t think you were serious!”
Pleased, Hanna leaned back in her chair. Given Naelin’s past performance, Hanna hadn’t expected her to be reasonable, but she was satisfied nonetheless.
“But . . . But you can’t . . . I don’t . . . It’s not that simple,” Merecot sputtered. “At the same time as you release your spirits, I will need to relinquish power over a segment of my spirits—they’ll immediately target me. I will need assurances that you will gain control of them quickly. If you don’t . . . I can and will defend myself, but the number of deaths that could occur in the meantime could be catastrophic. I won’t have that on my conscience.”
“What conscience?” Naelin asked, and Hanna gasped as Merecot sneered, ready to reply. But the queen of Aratay waved away her own comment. “I will take control quickly—that’s also fine.”
It was kind of entertaining to see Merecot so surprised. She clearly hadn’t expected anyone to come up with a viable alternative—let alone one that could work
One that will work. I’m sure of it.
And if they did agree, then Daleina would keep her throne, Merecot would save her country, and there would be no reason for abdications, assassinations, or invasions. Keeping quiet, Hanna watched the queens and champion with amused interest.
Ven was shaking his head. “To take control of another land’s spirits . . .”
“Queen Merecot would have to relinquish them, and I would have to accept them,” Queen Naelin said. Her voice was neutral—Hanna couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She seemed to be in favor of the idea. Maybe she’s willing to cling to anything that will end this. She wants her children back and this ordeal over. If so, that was good enough.
“It’s too dangerous,” Ven said. “In the moment you release your spirits before you claim Queen Merecot’s, you’d be vulnerable.”
He wasn’t wrong, but frankly, it was a lot less of a ridiculous request than asking both queens to abdicate in favor of Merecot. And less horrific than poisoning them. “The key part is that these spirits don’t belong to any land. They’re linked to the queen only, and only barely, which should make the transfer smooth. It would have to be done in the grove, of course.”
“But it can be done?” Naelin asked.
“Yes,” Hanna said. And then amended: “Theoretically, at least.”
Ven clasped Naelin’s hands in his. “It’s too great a risk—”
“To save my children, Aratay, and Semo? I don’t think it is.” Naelin turned to Merecot. “I’ll do it.”
Merecot opened and shut her mouth twice before finding the words she wanted to say. “You should want assurances from me as well, before you so blithely agree,” Merecot said at last. “Once you abdicate, you will be vulnerable. You’ll need to rely on me to protect you.” She still looked dazed. She’s a planner, Hanna thought, and this idea wasn’t in any of her calculations.
Ven spoke up. “I’ll be there to protect her as well—and terminate you, if you violate the agreement.” Out of the corner of her eye, Merecot saw her guards tense. She held up a hand to calm them. Hanna wished she could do the same to Ven.
“You won’t be permitted into the grove,” Merecot said as if he were an idiot. He’s not, Hanna thought. Nothing like this had ever been attempted before, at least as far as she knew. He was right to worry. Just wrong to try to stop this. It’s our best chance to help everyone. “The Semoian spirits, at least the older ones, are protective of their grove and fond of their traditions,” Merecot continued. “Only the worthy can enter. The spirits, not to mention the people of Semo, would . . . object if the sacred ground were violated. Really wouldn’t be a good idea to rile them up right before we attempt such a dangerous transition.”
Ven was shaking his head, but Queen Naelin laid her hand over his. “It’s in her interest to protect me. If this works, she’ll save her land. And that’s what she wants.”