#kulanific

“Peace to the great Seer!” He called, still absorbed in his final checks.

“How’re the horses Private?” Kulani responded fondly, strolling onto the runway.

“Temperamental your Grace.” He uttered, pulling the fuel nozzle free and locking the cap. “But that’s the way, and I wouldn’t have it otherwise.” Alim was a young man with a russet complexion and a gold rim on his grey eyes. He was easily the best pilot in the royal household, bar one person.

He dragged the hose back in and Kulani laid her hand against the body of the plane, the metal almost too hot to touch. Her reach extending into it for no purpose other than a sort of greeting; a ritual she always conducted before any flight, a show of mutual respect.

“Do you plan to go far your Grace?” Alim wiped his hands clean with a rag. Kulani shook her head. “No not especially, not out of sight of the mountain. I’ll be back before three this afternoon.” She considered this.

“Perhaps tell Evun four…Just to prevent him getting worried and sending me messages via comms.”

Alim smiled and nodded. “Probably a good thing Warrat is away on leave too, or you’d have a passenger. What with things being as they are, the uprising, I should probably be trying to convince you to allow me to accompany you.”

Alim couldn’t know it, but his words stung like the snap of a whip. The Empress didn’t let on, she adopted a stern look.

“Warrat needs to spend some time with his family, it’s long overdue. And I’m sure I will be quite safe, thank you Alim.”

The pilot nodded. “Very well your Grace, fly safe.”

As he walked past, Alim patted the tail of the plane and Kulani could just sense the edge of his reach as if it were being conducted through the metal – that touch was more like a blessing, a god speed laid on the machinery.

The glass canopy locked down with a distinct clunk and Kulani truly felt alone with the machine, all outside sound muffled to near silence. The earpiece hooked into place and her fingers flew over the switches without need of her eyes, running through a checklist she knew as instinctually as breathing. She snapped the flight harness across her body single handed.

Pausing to check the runway was clear, she finally initiated the ignition. Even from within the cockpit the roar of the jets channelling air straight down onto the concrete enclosed her.

The optics on the dashboard displayed the shimmering green radar, the attitude indicator was a flat line on the horizon. No runway was required for this take-off; the plane rose into the air vertically for about eighty feet, then pulled away sharply as the pilot threw the centre stick forward, tearing away from the Red House and out over the heathland.

The Empress started to feel true calm, reach branching out from her fingertips as she accounted for yaw, making minute adjustments. Kulani Kerai’s mother, the Great Seer Caelan Kerai, had been reticent at first but Kulani had loved planes from the day she saw one. Allowing her to train as a pilot was not so much allowed as understood to be unpreventable. Kulani flew her first solo flight before she was thirteen years old. She pulled up, gaining altitude, rolling the plane right over in its helical axis as she plunged across mile after mile of terrain just for the sake of it. There was no wind to indicate the speed to her senses, but the sheer gravitational force pushed her back in the seat.  

She pulled the plane around in a lazy lag roll, letting up on the acceleration. Mount Ai now visible through the canopy as she cruised in a wide circle.

It was only then that she began to think. She’d put Warrat on leave the day after the delegation from Dagilach. He had protested of course, but he couldn’t argue with her. Most of the time his wife and daughter lived in the palace quarters but the whole family had gone away to their house in Luca; the smaller city by the shore, east of The Drey City. She wanted him to be with his family. But she also knew that she was being a coward, she couldn’t bear to be around him, knowing what she knew.

The plane cut through the air, making a beeline for the Drey City, the huge expanse of it sprawling on the horizon. How malevolent it looked to her now, a dark malignancy on the rocky orange horizon. Somewhere within it the Dagal King was waiting, and her trip to the catacombs had only given rise to more questions on that count.

She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but something snagged at the corner of the Empresses perception. She was over scrubland, no buildings or people. She’d gone a little farther out than she intended. But there was a distinct pull. Her brow fell slightly, and she pulled back on the throttle. The plane curved around, churning dust as the landing gears touched down and rolled on the dust. A monitor lizard skittered away when the canopy popped up and the white-haired woman stepped out, boots hitting the sand.

Mount Ai was a dot behind her, the Drey City an expanse ahead. The warm wind moved her hair around her face. With her eyes shut she reached. Something, not far off. Her boots crunched on the ground. “Kerai, what are you doing?” She muttered to herself.

She froze. One foot still in front of the other.

Like a bolt through her leg, it was a distinct feeling. The ground gave away nothing, but it was exactly like finding yourself suddenly standing on the edge of a deep pit. Kerai frowned at the earth, fingers clenching into fists at her sides.

“Alright, lets see why you brought me out here.”

She stepped forward. It wasn’t as sudden as she expected. First she saw a street, cars, buildings, people. A river, bridges. Like no city she had ever seen before. It was not the Drey, nor Luca. The sky was grey and full of clouds, the air tasted like rain.

Kerai put another foot forward.

Her breath shoved out of her chest. Planes against the white clay of the sky. And then…growth. Exponential, dizzying, annihilating. Grass and vines, flowers, trees. A brutal and unbelievably rapid unravelling of genesis, snaring and destroying every building. The inorganic fell, and the people fell with it, ravelled up in the uncontrolled expulsion.

Kulani blinked and one knee hit the ground. Her head spun but she could see Drey again. Her skin was sticky with sweat beneath her flight suit. Looking down the little sprig of heather defending itself against the heat looked less than innocuous now. Her fingers brushed its delicate stem. She closed her eyes a moment, breathing deep.

“I will know what this means, whatever it takes.” She vowed, to herself, to the earth. When she got to her feet she stood quietly for a long while, soaking in the quiet of the desert. She climbed back into the Circinae.

-

When she got back to her chambers that afternoon Evun was already there, sat at the table in the solar waiting for her. She gave a deep sigh and her shoulders dropped.

“I suppose you’re here to warn me about flying too close to Drey what with the unrest?” She uttered, bathing her face from the stream that ran down the wall.

“No.” Evun said with such simplicity and solemnity that she looked up from the water cupped in her hands.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

She read it on Evun’s face before he said it. “Kay Warrat died this afternoon, at his family’s house. His wife found him. It was heart failure.”

The water spilled between her fingers and Kulani braced herself on the wall.

“I’m so, so sorry, Kerai.” He said gently. She listened to the trickling of the stream, the rock felt blessedly stable beneath her palm.

“It’s alright. I’m just glad he was at home.” She replied as stolidly as she could.

“A message came through for you. It was from Warrat himself.” Evun went on, fingers flicking over the console in the tabletop. “Given how and when it was sent it must have been scheduled to be sent upon his death. And openable only by your print.”

The unopened message glowed on the screen. Evun stood.

Evun was a good man, his concern sometimes a little overbearing. But he always held himself at a careful remove, even though he was her first advisor he spoke to her with more formality than the cooks in the kitchen or the household guard. His presence had always been cool, but it made him good at his job. She sensed he wanted to place a hand on her shoulder, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to it.

He laced his hands together. “Call on me, should you need anything your Grace.” The water filled the moment of sad silence before Evun left her chambers.

Kulani sat where Evun had been a moment before and pressed her finger to the screen. The message opened.

Dear Kerai

You must think I’m a damned fool, but that’s alright. You’re not entirely wrong.

I know you saw something, I know that’s why you sent me away. You’ve gotten good at hiding things and my reach might only be well suited to combat and troop movements but I can still read grief on a face.

I know things are happening Kerai, this business with the Drey City and this Dagal interloper. I want to be there for you, for my family. But I think Sruth has other plans for me. I’ve been so blessed, who am I to argue?

But you’re going to need help. All these years carrying the world on your shoulders. As strange as it might sound, I need you to find trust now – now more than ever.

Me and Joy are taking Mhairi down to the coast this afternoon, she’s very excited about it.

I know you’ll look after them for me.

The wind is at your back Kerai, the road will rise to meet your feet, and time is not a straight line. Somewhere, I’ll see all of you again.

She paused to turn her eyes to the horizon where the city would one day stand. Today, it was a placid valley between two low mountain peaks. Those peaks would be sacrificed for ore in the next five hundred years, the stones recut and made new. Even things that did not rot were subject to the life cycles of this world.

She turned back to her work, her knees resting on a cloth pad, sweeping a long braid of tightly coiled black hair back over her shoulder. She was nearly finished.

“I have to admit, I’m scared.”

She felt his presence before the words reached her. Danail stood a little way off, gazing out at the same spot she had been looking at a moment ago.

He wasn’t here, he was in the Red House. But that didn’t matter.

Miriz set down her chisel and sat back on her heels.

“Don’t be.” She replied gently, her voice had a rich tone. “We’re doing what needs to be done, and in good time. It will be alright Danail.”

Danail said nothing, he stared thoughtfully at the place where the city had not yet been built.

“A human though? We’ve seen their world, the whole history is pitted with horror. How do we trust them?”

“We don’t have to trust the whole world, we just have to trust in the ones receiving the message. And I, for one, do.” She countered diplomatically.

Danail looked at her, he was tall with grey eyes and she adored him. For years she had adored him.

“It’s not all about this, is it?” She continued, more incisively.

Danail knew better than to try and lie. “Our daughter, Yara…”

“-Will be loved more than anything in this world, when she gets here.” Miriz got to her feet and approached her husband. She could feel the shape of him, the way space flexed around his presence, even though the atoms of his body were not there.

He shook his head sadly. “But I’ve seen it, we’ve seen it. They won’t be able to cure it…”

“That is how it is Danail!” Miriz uttered angrily, and then not…She sighed sadly. “We can’t undo everything, some things are simply handed to us. Which is what makes the decisions we can take even more important.” She gestured back to the carved slab of Heartstone a few feet behind her.

After a long moment he nodded. “I know. You’re right.” He laughed. “You usually are. I’m just, scared.”

Miriz smiled at him. “Me too my love. But we’re not there yet. Try not to dwell on it for now?”

Danail’s expression lightened somewhat. “I’m probably wanted by the astronomers, getting the shell to do a near two thousand year orbit cycle is a challenge even for them.”

“But not for you.” Miriz glowed with pride. “Go on, I’ll be back tomorrow.” She extended her hand, and it touched the place where Danail’s chest might have been. Something flowed between them.

“Be safe.” He uttered, and was gone.

Miriz, one of the first seers and masons was alone in the desert. She turned and walked back to the circular rock, getting herself settled on her knees again. Her fingers found the line and she resituated the chisel.

This was the exit point, designed very specifically for one individual, and one moment in time. When she was done carving the circuit it would be buried deep in this spot. Even the traveller would not see it.

The chisel wound its way through the stone.

The intercom clicked off. Kulani sat back and finished the bread, picking grapes from another plate and devouring them hungrily. The console lit up, a chime sounding through the room. It was Evun, her advisor. The empress raised her eyes slightly before she swiped across the screen to receive the incoming call.

     “Good morning Evun.”

     “Good morning your highness. Forgive me, I’ve just become aware that the catacomb elevator is being unsealed…”

     “That’s right.” She popped another grape in her mouth. She could practically see Evun’s face in the pause that followed.

     “I…Do you think that is best? I know you’ve been struggling to understand recent signals but you are very tired, perhaps in a few days…”

     “I appreciate the concern Evun.” She sighed. “I really do. But it doesn’t matter how tired I am, we’re out of time, and I won’t be less tired in a few days. Better to try and find out now.”

He seemed to consider that. “As you say your Highness, I trust in your judgement.”

     “Thank you Evun.”

The line went quiet once again. When she had finished her breakfast Kulani dressed herself in a pair of black hakama and a long-sleeved black tunic which rolled over at the neck, as ever within the halls of the Red House, her feet remained bare.

She left her chambers and took a roundabout route through the mountain palace, extending her reach out carefully at all angles to be better aware and undetected. She simply wanted to see the House at work. Successfully, she moved unseen past the kitchen where the chefs were kneading dough, down the great steps into the ballroom, along the west cloister. There were two craft undergoing maintenance on the landing pads outside the palace. Her route circled back by the council chamber which was pleasantly empty.

Eventually she arrived back at the long corridor that ran the length of the palace, hundreds of metres into the rock, some in the household called it ‘the throat of the mountain’ though Kulani always disliked that name. It put her too much in mind of being swallowed. A thought that plagued her now as she paced down it. All natural light died away, replaced by the panels of pale gold illuminated crystal that served as light sources throughout the interior of the palace, they drew their energy from underground aquifers, so they felt more like a natural phenomena than a manmade installation.

Sound too, diminished to almost nothing until all she could hear were her own soft footfalls. Eventually the corridor opened out into a carved, vaulted atrium. Daret was already standing ready by a set of heavy metal doors, he gave a nod at her approach.

     “Peace to the Great Seer.”

She smiled at him. “Hello Daret, everything ready?”

     “When you are, your highness.”

     “I am.”

He nodded and turned to the console on the wall by the doors, they slid apart with a heavy, mechanical sound revealing the elevator cage. Kulani stepped inside.

     “As ever, there is a contact point every ten metres within, your Highness. Call to us, should you need.”

Kulani smiled at him. Daret had always had such a sweet disposition, even since he was a very young man.

     “I’m sure I’ll be alright captain, but thank you.”

He nodded once again and slid his fingers over the panel. The doors closed and after a moment the winch began to unravel, the cage beginning its long descent. It was only then, sealed in the very gullet of the mountain that Kulani let her thoughts turn again to general Kay Warrat and what she had seen the night before. She feared she already knew the answers she would receive.

As the cage descended she slowed her breathing, shutting her eyes, clearing her mind. She was well practiced at this. A few minutes later, when the elevator stopped and the doors opened again she felt as clear and simple as a stream.

She stepped out into the catacombs. People in the cities of S’ruthan Liar had many misconceptions about the mythic catacombs beneath the Red House. Firstly, and understandably – that they contained the royal dead. No one was interred in the catacombs, at least, certainly not their bodies. Secondly, that it was a ghastly, claustrophobic place. This also was untrue, and to anyone gifted in reach they would understand why instantly if they were to step one foot inside.

Kulani stepped out of the elevator and paced forward. Down here the stone of the mountain was different. Not the ruddy sandstone of the palace itself. The walls and floor of the catacombs resembled a polished red jasper that gleamed in the crystal light. Its entire interior surface was inscribed with small, perfectly carved runes. The words, and as some had theorised – the very souls, of the first seers who had wrought them.

As she paced forward, she felt herself begin to walk a mental tightrope. She was in the heart of a mountain, but the walls were not there. Her reach snapped outward from her like a lightning strike desperately trying to earth against something. But she held it in check, her feet found the entryway to the Cordis Hall, the carved, circular centre of the catacombs which extended away in four directions. The light made the words of the first seers glisten like the interior of a living body and Kerai sunk to her knees by the large, smooth scrying bowl that had been hewn into the floor.

Her palm found the inside of its perfectly smooth side and she opened her eyes. Everything in her was trying to escape outward, as if she were a vessel filled with water that had been shattered. For a moment she allowed it and a din of images, sounds and voices flowed into the space where she had once been.

The cities were loudest. Cars and bicycles and screens and information flowing over the surface of the world like electrical current. And further out – where the rock and fields took sway again, the quiet but insistent chant of rice paddies and rivers, the dissonant song of coyotes and birds, the drone of railways and aircraft, the sputtering chatter of people in villages, laughing, crying.

It was an expanse that would be terrifying to most, but with practiced precision she threaded her way back toward herself, finding the outline of her own shape in contact with the rock. She breathed deep, and when she spoke no words left her;

I saw Kay Warrat die, how can I prevent it?

A murmuration swirled then gathered in her nerves, speaking without language.

You cannot. It is the pattern.

A tear spilled down Kulani’s cheek and slid into the bowl.

What does the Dagal King want?

A surge of heat.

To unmake the world.

The heat passed through Kulani as a deep terror that nearly pulled her hand from the surface of the stone.

I don’t understand.

You will. You will prevent him. But you need help.

From whom?

The fear dissipated and Kulani watched the universe fold…and unfold. She saw an ocean on another world, blue and beautiful.

We have sent for help, do not be afraid dear one.

Something sweet that the empress could not define stole over her. A different kind of tear slid down her cheek.

What do I need to do?

A stream went through her. There was a woman, slender, agile. Great anger, great intelligence. A mother. Two mothers. Two children, girls, and then not anymore… they were women. A man, he stood with his back to her, his dark hair moving in the desert breeze. She began to lose the form of things. The stream ebbed, thankfully. She sagged slightly as it abated. The Cordis Hall became solid again.

What do I need to do??

A thin thread now, but the reply was as certain as the stone;

General Kay Warrat walked at her side as they paced the long stone hallway toward the ballroom. The flame like lights embedded in the stone shimmered on her long pale blue muslin gown. Beneath the sheer fabric was a linen slip that ran over just one shoulder, fully covering one breast. Upon the other a silver corona encircled the nipple beneath the muslin. A piece of formal attire she did not wear often, but it felt apt.

     “Have the ministers made themselves comfortable? I hope they’ve had something to eat at least. I’m aware of the Dagal aristocracies’ strange relationship with food but the last time they visited they ate nothing.”

     “Not eating, but drinking.” Warrat responded dryly.

Warrat was a tall, dour looking man of about one hundred years, in truth he had a softer disposition than it seemed. He had been a general in the Imperial army for a decade, Kulani trusted him with her life.

She looked at him wearily. “Drinking a lot?”

He nodded.

     “Just the third minister, minister Hosh, he’s probably had a bottle of wine to himself already and the night is young. Evun has managed to occupy the other one.”

Kulani sighed and tuned her attention to her bare feet as they patted softly on the marble floor, stretching out ahead of her. She could feel a barely restrained tension in the room ahead.

     “I see. Well lets just get this done. They want platinum we want aluminium. The rail networks will not build themselves unfortunately.”

     “I get a bad feeling from Hosh. I think I should stay next to you.”

Kulani looked at him admonishingly. “Come on now Kay, the man’s a fool but he’s not that brave.”

They ran out of corridor. A sweeping flight of stone steps descended into the ballroom which was agleam with silk banners and fire pits. Tables had been set up for the gathered parties and a small orchestra was playing a soft concerto.

“Peace to the great Seer.” The susurrus ran around the room and people bent low at the waist as Kulani entered. Kay bowed and took his leave, but Kulani noticed that he did not go far, and his hand lay restless at his side, near his scabbard. The Empress gave a deep nod of respect back to the gathered court and made her way down the stairs.

Hosh was painfully obvious. She would have known he was there even if she couldn’t see him, or hear him…But all the same his laugh was loud and obnoxious. The woman next to him, who bore a small world’s worth of rubies around her throat laughed at whatever joke he had made. Kulani’s shoulders squared a little, unto the breach.

She approached the group, which consisted of Hosh and his people. The second minister was still across the room engaged by Evun. Hosh’s back was turned but he noticed the people around him bowing and turned awkwardly on his heel, a glass in his hand. He made a slightly clumsy bow.

     “Peace to the Great Seer.”

     “Minister Hosh.” She nodded politely, her features forming a mild smile. Purposefully, she stayed a good six feet from him. But her reach moved out from her cautiously, ascertaining the mood of the gathered party. Mostly jovial, but Kay had been right; Hosh’s contempt was very barely constrained.

     “You honor me.” She continued. “Tell me, how is the season on your world? It is autumn no?”

His gaze ran over her uncomfortably. “Thank you for asking your Highness, the air is cold this time of year. I see this is not a problem you have, but the summers here are intolerable.”

The woman next to him swallowed tensely. Kulani could feel Kay inching closer, taking a casual but surreptitious path between the tables.

     “We are blessed, as are you. I hear this past year The Empress Orlain gave birth to a healthy boy. I hope that The Lords smile on them both.”

     “What do you know about The Lords?”

He shot back, levelly, but the smile dissipated from his face. Kulani could feel anger rising in him like bile. She laced her fingers together placidly.

     “Very little, Minister Hosh. But I respect your beliefs, as you respect mine, yes?”

The question hung in the air like a Damocles blade, the soft strings of the orchestra could do nothing to soften its presence. Hosh’s face soured.

     “Of course your Highness.”

He all but spat the words. Still Kulani’s face betrayed nothing.

     “Well, I must speak with the second minister Agoris.” She nodded to him and turned, pacing away across the room. She was barely fifteen feet away when the words; “….fucking barefoot heathens…” stuck out in a quiet moment between the strings. Kay was at her side again as she crossed the room. There was no need for explanations, she smiled as though nothing had transpired.

     “Have someone escort Hosh back to his ship. I will not have him in my house. I’ll deal with the second minister.”

Kay nodded.

-

It felt like a long evening after that. The mood of the room lay in a nervous tension, people spoke little. But nonetheless, the trade was agreed and minister Agoris also departed before the sun rose. Though he went entirely of his own accord.

Kulani watched the ships lift off into night sky, from the cloister that ran down the side of the great hall, their engines churning up desert dust. She was glad to see them go. With a sigh she rolled her shoulders and took her first deep breath of the evening.

Warrat was standing a little way off like a faithful stalwart. Kulani had only known the man for twenty of her two hundred years but he was always a welcome presence in a room, even with his gloomy countenance. And even though he was a hundred years her junior she knew he felt something paternal toward her.

     “You should get some rest Warrat, it’s been a long evening.” She strolled through the cloister toward him. “But at least we’ll not have any more Dagal diplomats to deal with for another few months.”

     “A blessing.” He muttered and looked at her earnestly. “You handled that with more grace than I ever would have, your highness.”

Kulani gave a self-deprecating shrug. “Really Warrat, go home. Get some rest. Your daughter will be asking for you.”

She paced past him back toward the ballroom, bound for her bedchamber.

As she passed, she laid a hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

It was like a bolt of lightning, but she absorbed it without breaking stride; he did not see the tears begin to well in her eyes as she walked away from him.

As her feet took again to the smooth floor of the long corridor, the flood broke and streamed down her cheeks, though she made no sound.

She had felt it, she had seen it. Just then, and there was no unknowing it.

Her lips parted and she opened her eyes, sending her gaze out over the heathland of white blossom trees and heather that extended from the The Red House to the narrow pass between the Ai’ture mountain range. It was not quite enough. She reached out in a gesture of bargaining with the universe, out toward the great landmasses. The arid breeze lifted her white hair slightly from her shoulders.

A sigh of relief pressed itself out of her chest. Yes, there he was. He, among others that had been sent to ascertain the nature of the uprising in the north. Kulani stood that way for several minutes, letting the thread of his essence coil gradually like a spool of delicate thread back into her chest. Her eyelids fluttered. His was only a short reconnaissance mission, no military action was yet to be taken. But she would do this every morning for the next ten days, or until he returned.

A synthetic chime sounding through her chambers broke her concentration, she sighed and withdrew her hand, pacing barefoot into the solar.

“Enter.” She uttered.

A door hissed open hydraulically and Evun, her advisor on affairs of state stepped into the room. He bowed low at the waist.

“Peace to the Great Seer.”

Her fingers fluttered to signal him to stand straight.

“There’s news from Dagilach your Highness. The Empress Orlain has been detained. They say she is to be sentenced to death.”

Kulani drifted to the small natural spring that trickled down the side of the rock and parted the solar like a miniature stream. She placed her hands in the sweet water and swept them over her face. Drops fell from her nose and chin and soaked into the white robe that tied at her waist.

“The Dagal Empire will not be finished until it has killed every woman on its world, I fear. I appreciate being informed, but there’s little we can do. What of the reconnaissance?” There was a tinge of impatience in her voice.

Evun nodded. “The drones are picking up a large military force massing in the Drey City. We don’t know the identity of the leader as yet, he does not seem to show himself. But rumours are he is of mixed S’ruthan and Dagal extraction. He tells the people the old ways are dead.”

A mirthless exhalation left Kulani. “Perhaps those two pieces of news nest into one another more than I expected.” She placed her hand on the wall of the spring and let the water flow over it, absorbing its song. “For now we continue to watch. But we need to find this man, this would-be emperor.” She paused.

“And the men sent ahead? Before the drones?”

“They were undetected, and will be back two days earlier than expected your highness.”

Kulani felt her old heart lift in her chest. The water ran over the back of her hand, rivulets tracing her arm and wetting her sleeve.

I miss you. She spoke with her fingertips into the water.

“That’s some good news at least.” She replied, more lightly. “Please inform me of their movements, kindly, leave me be for now.”

Evun bowed low again and turned to leave. The door hissing shut behind him once again. The quiet of the wind at the balcony and the soft trickle of water suffused the room once more. The Empress pulled her hand from the water and parting her robe at the collar drew a circular rune on the skin of her breastbone, pressed her hand to it; a silent prayer for the Lady of Dagilach. She had never actually visited her sister world. Her mother, the previous Great Seer had warned her away before her death.

‘Don’t ever set foot on that land. Not while the palaces stand. Malice flows through the earth like water through ours. Maybe one day, when the ruins are reclaimed by the vines.’

Kulani stepped softly over the stream and walked through the solar to her bedchamber. A platform of soft green silk and pillows, these recent days she had found herself falling asleep on the stone floor by the water. Her knees and shoulder had the yellow bruises to show it. The earth was starting to speak, even if in only a faltering whisper, she was trying to hear the words.

The silk felt altogether too soft beneath her skin. She sprawled face down on the bed, one knee hitching up, her fingers sliding over her head to brush against the exquisitely carved wall at the head of the bed. She could recall the smell of him standing close to her in the briefing rooms, in the hearing chamber. He was always close by and yet just too far away. She had taken to reaching out for him, letting that intangible coil of thread flow from herself into him. He could feel it, but so far he had said nothing.

She was without a consort or heirs. This had not always been the way in her family, but she had taken the decision even before her coronation; under her rule there would be no kings on S’ruthan Liar, and the next ruler would be chosen, not born. But that could be a hundred years from now, perhaps more. Her people were known for their longevity, and traditionally her mother’s line had seen their four hundredth year.

It was going to be a very long life. Or, if this ‘Dagal Emperor’ had anything to do with it, a short life. Either way she was running out of time.

Her ribs felt heavy as she breathed into the silk, turning her cheek to rest against it. Her hands opened out and slid down over the silk like a breast stroke through water and hitched her gown up around her hips.

Shortly before he’d left she’d seen him and two of his lieutenants in the briefing room. She’d unravelled herself toward him as the other men laid out the maps and discussed the method of approach. But this time he’d looked to her, his gaze pinioning her. It froze her in place. His own reach pressed into the small of her back. There was a heat in it. When he blinked the other men were talking about squadrons and she was back in the room again.

Her hand flexed around to press into the small of her back, the other moving beneath her to the heat between her legs. When her mouth gaped, fishlike, as though starving for air his face flared in her mind. A brilliant star, it engulfed her and she forgot the boundaries of her body.