What Gravity Can Do

“It’s a famous tale by now,” Tamara continued while Morenna gaped at her. “Khellvain the Conqueror emerged from the mountains of Miurindan with his women by his side, the Twilight Consort and the Dawn Consort, the foundations of what would become his army, and then his Empire. And it’s true, though the part we didn’t often tell people is that Jevenna and I were together before he came along. Never doubt that your father is capable of restraint, Morenna. Remember, he wasn’t an Emperor then, or even a warlord; he couldn’t just have any woman he wanted. And not only did he bag himself a mated pair—the only man I’ve ever known who pulled that off—he respected us too much to boast of it.”

Morenna made a strangling sound. Her teacup had begun rattling in its saucer.

“I think…that was the reason for my sin.” Tamara gazed vacantly at the window. “I’m accustomed to tempering and redirecting Khellvain’s passions. Had it been anyone else… I know just how I’d have handled him. Waited for the shock of losing his beloved to fade, then gently guided him to see how blaming and casting aside an infant for a woman’s death in childbirth is as silly as it is despicable. But I… I had just lost my love, too. And we were powerful, by then—rulers, with servants to attend our needs. I knew the child would be cared for. Fed, clothed, taught…to some extent at least. And in loss, in despair… I’m afraid silly and despicable are the least of what humans are capable of, when their hearts are torn and bleeding. Worse, as the wound began to heal… It was easier, not to think about it. About her. About you.”

The Queen’s gaze sharpened again and fixed upon Morenna, who had gone still as a tombstone. Behind the Princess, Tamara caught Annabel glaring at her in fury before the maid ducked her head in a deep curtsy and turned away.

Tamara sighed very quietly.

“I say this only to explain, not to justify.” Setting aside her teacup on the desk, the Queen stood. “I will never ask your forgiveness, Morenna. For offenses such as mine…there can be none. And though I know it is long past too late, I swear I will do whatever I can for you. To ensure you have the life you are owed, or as much of it as my power can grant you. I simply thought you deserved to know that you are not seeing a late onset of moral character… But merely the guilt of a foolish, selfish, cowardly woman who clearly has none.”

She gazed at Morenna, who stared back as if thunderstruck. After a long moment, Tamara nodded once and turned, gliding toward the door.

“That’s a rotten thing to do to a child,” Morenna said suddenly when she was nearly there. “But the world is complicated—not much turns out the way we think it should. I cherish my peace and quiet more than you know. This has been a good life. Otherwise I’d’ve just let you die.”

Tamara paused, half-turning back. “There was an odd detail… Several of the captured tribesmen reported being attacked by crows when they tried to shoot at you. Quite a few of the bodies have odd wounds on their faces… The kind beaks might make.”

“Are the crows all right?” Morenna demanded, tensing.

“I asked,” said Tamara with a faint smile. “No dead ones were found in the vicinity. Crows are considered lucky among your mother’s people, you know. Clever little fellows, aren’t they? You would be welcome at the feast tomorrow, Morenna, and I’m not the only one who’d be glad to see you there, but… By all means, do what pleases you. You’ve earned the right.”

She quietly left the tower, leaving behind an empty silence.

* * *

Morenna had taken to drumming her fingers on the desk as she read to replace the missing sound of the grandfather clock; it was starting to make Annabel and Gerard both twitch, but neither said anything, just going about their chores.

After the queen’s visit, Morenna had skipped lessons to stay in and read; no one had come to collect her. It had been hard to get into a book, though. Her mind remained unsettled for a few more hours.

Just as she was starting to properly immerse herself, there came a knock on the door.

Morenna looked up, her right eye twitching violently.

A knock—not the bell. And not on the front door. Someone was rapping on the balcony door.

“What in the world…?” Gerard asked nervously, instinctively putting himself between the door and Annabel. “Your Highness, should we—”

Morenna was already on her feet, summoning Blackwing into her hand. Stomping across the room, she yanked back the curtains and shoved the door open.

“Uthien!” she shouted.

“Hello, Morenna,” he said, smiling. “I missed you in class today. You weren’t hurt in the fight, were you?”

“I never get hurt in fights. I am the specter of death itself, and don’t you forget it. What are you doing on my balcony?”

“Okay, I’ll admit it: I’m showing off a bit. But mostly just…enjoying myself. Morenna, I feel so free. To be able to fly! Is this what it’s like for you, being able to just move into any shadow you want?”

“I…suppose…there’s a comparison to be made there,” she said grudgingly. “But seriously, what are—”

“Look what I made!” He reached into the bag he was carrying and pulled out a small metal gear.

“Is that…wait. You said you couldn’t make those.”

“And I couldn’t! But that was then! May I come in, sister? I have something to show you that I think you’ll want to see.”

* * *

Minutes later, with her clock mechanism again disassembled and laid out carefully on her table, Morenna watched as her brother pulled a metal ring from his bag, held it up against one of the worn-out gears, then put the gear aside and gripped the ring in both hands.

Then he separated his hands…and the ring stayed hovering between them.

Frowning and gritting his teeth with effort, Uthien focused upon it and before her astonished eyes, the metal began to warp and deform. As Morenna watched and Uthien grunted from exertion, the metal shape gradually altered until it was a perfect match for the original gear, minus the wear and tear.

It fell to the table as Uthien finally slumped back in his chair, breathing heavily. Sweat was standing out on his forehead.

“How did you do that?” Morenna demanded. “I’ve never even heard of such a thing. Are you just…inventing magics?”

“Not bad, right?” Uthien said, grinning. “It’s a pretty limited trick. It only works on flexible materials like metal, and I can only do it on a very small scale. So…unless I want to become a clockmaker or jeweler, this has only a little utility. Still, I’ve been enjoying the experimentation. Pretty incredible what gravity can do, when you’ve read the right books on it! Actually, Morenna, I’d dismissed some of what I read about gravity because…well, as detailed as it was, I didn’t see how the authors could possibly know such details when they included no mathematics or way to experimentally verify their claims. Finding out that gravity mages exist… Seems I have a lot of theoretical knowledge I’m figuring out uses for.”

“Uthien, you need to be careful,” she said seriously. “Knowledge can be dangerous, especially when the people most afraid of it spreading are willing to kill to prevent that.”

“My mother told me about your warning,” Uthien said, nodding. “So, I’ll tell you what, sister, how about we trade? I’ll fix your clock, and while I’m working on that, you can tell me some…heretical magic theory, and especially what parts I can or can’t talk about in public.”

Morenna hesitated, but found herself smiling against her own will. “That…sounds like a pretty good trade.”