Space and Time

“I’m glad it works.”

“It does!” Morenna rested her hand against the sheath. It was white leather, studded with jewels—not at all her style, but at least it matched the white hilt of the rapier whose blade it contained. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it, your Majesty. Having a sword that blasts anything the blade touches is great and all, but carrying it around is kind of…nerve-wracking.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Queen Tamara answered with a smile. “I picked up a few magic swords during my various adventures—as did both your parents. All are now safely tucked away in the treasury. They’re valuable to have when you need one, but tricky to have…around. It’s not a coincidence we had an enchanted sheath ready to contain a rapier. Does it have a name yet?”

Morenna smiled. “Swansong. I asked Rakkan for suggestions, and that was his first one; he has a way with words.”

“And with names, as we all learned today. I can still hardly credit that my son crafted that thing. I did tell him about the technique, but… To actually create such a powerful artifact? In such rough conditions, and out of ice? That boy of mine just might be a genius.”

“He did need both Ophia and Uthien to help,” Morenna pointed out, “but…he very well might. His brother surely is. I’d assumed it was Linnea’s genes that did it, but wouldn’t it be ironic if the brains came from Khellvain?”

“Your father’s…pattern of poor decisions,” Tamara said carefully, “stem largely from being surrounded by advisors who have spent years learning to manipulate his every emotional weak point, of which he has many—that, and getting him to commit to plans before I or one of the other concubines can intervene. He is not a stupid person, Morenna. I understand very well how it could seem that way to you, but I worry that is setting you up for a conflict in which you badly underestimate him.”

“One advisor in particular, perhaps?”

“It’s not just one. In any case, as impressive as your new sword is, it seems we’re in agreement that it is overkill for most fights. Shall we see what can be done about this?”

They stood that night in the Lower Castle, with shadows cast across them by the quiet ruins and trees, with the city spread all around and the castle itself looming behind. Only the bridge had been restored by Imperial earth mages; this space was still strewn with arrows and slingstones after Morenna and Uthien’s battle with the attacking tribe. Off to the right, the silent hulk of the wrecked City Crusher stood well-lit and well-guarded, the plaza cordoned off and soldiers present in force to prevent anyone accessing either the machine or the new hole into the complex under the castle.

Now, Tamara picked up a wooden case she had laid upon a nearby broken stone foundation and opened it.

Inside lay the twisted remains of Blackwing.

Morenna’s eyes widened, and then she deliberately steeled her expression. “I don’t… Can anything be done? Such damage is surely…”

“It matters that it is enchanted steel, of a kind that is known to repair itself gradually,” said Tamara, setting the box back down but not closing it. “This damage is more than it can fix…but it does mean the sword has a sort of…memory of what it was meant to be. It would take one who is not only a master smith but an exceedingly powerful light mage, but such people do exist. A benefit of ruling an empire is that we have access to them.”

“That being the case,” Morenna said softly, “I wonder if it would not be more prudent to have one make me a new sword.”

“Most definitely, yes, but prudence is not everything. Morenna, where did you even get this weapon? I made inquiries when you turned up carrying it; the treasurer and armorer insist nothing like it is missing from our collections, and nobody in the city reports selling or losing such a sword.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Morenna said with a faint smile. “It was a trophy from a fallen enemy. My…first real battle, I suppose.”

“Mm hm.” Tamara trailed a fingertip along the contorted blade of the destroyed rapier. “And would this have been around the time the Silent Brotherhood inexplicably pulled out of Kourvald, two years ago?”

“I have one simple rule,” Morenna said curtly. “I do not answer questions about my past.”

“Your past, all fourteen years of it that you’ve spent mostly in a tower.” The Queen withdrew her hand and gently closed the box. “Well, I know how important such a prize is, especially if it’s also your first weapon. I will reach out to Kourvald’s best lightsmiths; we’ll see about restoring Blackwing, and getting you something suitable for a Princess to carry in the meantime. For your part, do keep in mind that making a point of your refusal to answer questions only makes people more curious.”

Morenna shrugged. “They can be curious. Their problem, not mine.”

“Other people’s problems can and will become yours if you ignore them. You aren’t the only one who knows secrets of magic, Morenna; others have lived lives and learned things, and you never know when someone else might have unexpected insight into your life in particular. For example: I knew and loved a powerful shadow mage in my youth, and from her I learned both what ‘shadow’ magic really is…and that space and time are the same thing. Did you know that?”

Morenna blinked, then frowned. “The…wait, what?”

“Two sides of the same coin, as she described it,” Tamara explained. “Tied together, such that warping one will tend to affect the other, in a way a spatial mage who knows the proper technique can use to shift their place not only in space, but in time.”

Morenna narrowed her eyes. “Nonsense.”

“Yeah, I never understood it either,” Tamara admitted ruefully. “I wouldn’t believe it, had I not seen her use that power so often.”

“My mother could time travel?”

“I…do not know the full extent of what she could do,” the Queen said quietly, turning her head to gaze out across the city. “I learned that, at the very end. But she could look backward and forward through time, to see the outcomes of things not yet come to pass. I know many have wondered how a trio of mountain folk could conquer a continent in ten years. Khellvain is indeed a rare dual mage, a great warrior, a charismatic leader and a skilled strategist and tactician. I am also everything I’m rumored to be in battle, as was your mother. But the real secret, Morenna? It was her. She always knew what path to take. Whenever there was a choice to be made, and even when Khellvain or I did not realize one loomed before us, it was Jevenna who found the right way forward. Told us what thing to do to achieve the ends we needed. And so long as we followed her advice, we went from victory to victory in an unbroken chain.”

Morenna stared at her, mouth slightly open. Tamara glanced at the girl, then away again, lowering her voice.

“Another thing I know, that most do not, is that your mother did not die in childbirth. Well…not of childbirth.”

Morenna stood as if frozen, as though afraid to disturb the moment by so much as breathing.

“It was a smooth birth,” Tamara whispered, staring at the dark horizon. “All three of us were there, when you first came. So happy…so proud. And then she…looked away, as I had seen her do so many times before. Her eyes went black, and I felt the pressure change in the room as it always did. It made you start crying. She looked through possible futures, and when she came back…”

The Queen paused, swallowed painfully, and continued in a voice rough with old pain.

“She looked up at me, took my hand, and said ‘There’s only one way, one chance.’ And I don’t know what it was she did next; I had no idea she knew such techniques. It was a twist of both time and space more intense than anything I’ve ever felt, so powerful it made the whole room seem to warp. It lasted only a second and seemed to have no effect, except that…that… It cost the last spark of her own life force to achieve. She lay there, holding you…gone.”

“Jevenna did this?” Morenna whispered. “I didn’t… I could never figure out…”

Tamara looked at her again, asking none of the questions that comment begged. “I told you I would never ask your forgiveness, Morenna, and I still am not. You owe me none; there can be no justification for what we did. But…that is the extra context, the nuance you deserve to know. It wasn’t just that we lost her. She left us. Without warning, and with no positive result we could see; without consulting us, just…rushing off to do her own thing the way she always did. And we didn’t only have to grieve her. We had lost our greatest secret—our means of always knowing what to do. If you’ve ever wondered how the same people who could conquer an empire in ten years could struggle for the next fifteen to barely hold it together… Well, now you know.”

Morenna stared at her. Opened her mouth, closed it, swallowed painfully, and could not seem to find a response.

“And so,” Tamara said, turning to her fully, “when I see you… The way you wield a sword like the veteran of a dozen wars, the speed and strength with which you use your shadow magic—greater than your mother’s at the height of her power, but seemingly without the understanding that would let you unlock its true potential. The fact that you speak at least seven languages in the coarse dialects of someone who has walked among the people of many nations. And oh, yes, let us not forget your foreknowledge of certain attempted assassinations that you refuse to explain. You’re a complete enigma to most, Morenna—but to me, one who knows that your mother’s final act was to read your future and spend her last breath to cast something that she said was ‘the only way’…well…”

She inhaled deeply, holding Morenna’s gaze.

“I see possibilities that others may not.”

Morenna finally tore her eyes away. She turned and took three long steps, putting some distance between them, resting her hands upon a low foundation wall and staring out over the rooftops of Kourvald in silence. Tamara left her alone, to gather her thoughts.

Finally, the Black Princess spoke.

“It all started to fall apart when you died.”