Chapter Thirty-Seven: Clearing The Air

The Fae Moot comprised of all the royals who weren't currently in Elysheim or war criminals. We princesses and princes were all expected to contribute but, ultimately, it was the four monarchs who would decide what to do. And, as the saying goes: if you have four fae in a debate, you'll find five opinions and none of them will be popular. Fortunately, the moot did not have to reach unanimity - a simple three-fourths majority was sufficient. That meant I needed only convince my mother, my father, and either my father-in-law or the woman who'd been unwinged by the enemy to agree to an invasion of the Outer Realms. Among the four of them, I was least confident in Alvaelic's thinking on the matter: he was well over a millennium old and prone to stubbornness and inaction, whereas Presimiwe, the second-oldest, was as fiery and decisive as they came.

Unfortunately, my credibility took a terrible hit almost right off the bat:

"Before we proceed further in this moot, I must disclose a secret that must not leave these hallowed halls," my mother said. "I will tell you the frank and utmost truth and not the half-lies and whispered rumors you've no doubt heard. Can we swear that what is said here - whatever may be divulged by any of us - is sworn to secrecy?"

"So it must be," Alvaelic agreed. "Only our decision, whatever it might be, need be known. Now pray tell, Alathea, what's so horrible to tell that our unimpeachable discretion is not enough? I assume this has to do with these rumors the Unwinged uttered in your court?"

"It's not a shame to be unwinged," Presimiwe said a bit testily. "We honor those injured in defense of their realm, do we not?"

"True - my apologies, cousin. Your honor, like your discretion, is unquestioned - I mean only to wonder what among those words is true, since Alathea has admitted to at least some truth." Alvaelic might not have had my mother's magical brilliance, but he had the clear-eyed logic of a practiced cross-examining attorney.

"I'll tell you once we all swear."

My heart thudded in my chest - was she really going to tell them? One by one, they all swore, until it was only me. "Of course I swear," I said, forever barring me from divulging whatever my mother was about to reveal…

Alathea nodded, the jewels of her earrings and necklace clattering in the utter silence of the room. All the powers in the realm fixed their eyes and ears upon her.

"The princess you see before you is Laeanna, but her original soul was expelled on account of the accursed poison… she barely escaped limbo and now lies in Elysheim," Alathea said.

"What, then, inhabits my daughter's body?" Fostolas said.

The twitch of his jaw suggested he was in the process of deciding between surprise and anger. Alathea nodded to me - she'd let me tell my version of the story so long as I didn't foul it up.

"Your daughter's soul, father," I said. "Though it was once the soul of an Earth man named Lawrence Born. I think you'll agree that I'm none of those things. I've god all of my Earth memories from before I was killed in the same war that all of these other Earth men come from but, inhabiting Laeanna's body just as it was, I now have all of her talents and instincts, though precious few clear memories…"

"And yet you wield the spellsword," Gaelin observed. "You are Laeanna… I…" he cursed to himself. "This is why you knew the Anglish song on the Equinox eve. You are both Laeanna and not. It must be very confusing for you."

I bit at my lip, worried that he'd be mad that I hadn't let on when we first met back when I first met him. "It was. And I won't claim to understand the 'how' of what's transpired since then… but in my heart, I am Laeanna of fae. Perhaps my soul's shifted to better fill the void left by the old me… but I feel no artifice in my identity. I am Laeanna and I am fae. Gaia consecrated my marriage before the realms." I realized I was rambling and took a deep breath.

"I am not the old Laeanna, but I'm a version of Laeanna. But I apologize for having robbed you of the opportunity to grieve the princess who came before me. That woman and her memories of the time shared with you now lie only in Elysheim until she once again joins Gaia. I apologize if you feel lied to or misled - this was not my intention or, I'm sure, my mother's."

"Your mother's? Not the other girl's? Is that how you feel?" Persimiwe asked.

I looked at Alathea, catching the flash of uncertainty that flickered across her expression before she brought it under control. She wasn't worried about whether I'd tell the truth so much as what that truth might actually be. I unsheathed my spellsword and placed it upon the table. "My Earth mother gave birth to a human boy who died over a river you've never heard of in a country you've never heard of. Laeanna's mother, Queen of the Vernal, sits beside her daughter. She spent fifty years crafting this for her daughter… who now sits at this moot. Any who would question my loyalty to my mother or the fae are welcome to interview those hundreds who died by my hand, screaming as I drove their armies from our lands."

I sat in silence for a moment, my palms sweaty, my heart slowly dropping from its nauseating pace. Eventually, Presimiwe broke the awkward lull: "Well… I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. Needless to say, I cannot see how I could ever trust you on Urth matters, since you came from there…"

I did not point out that this implied that we could not trust native-souled fae on Alfheim matters, since they'd all come from Alfheim. But I think the four monarchs, at least, were clever enough to anticipate the logic of that argument. Once again, we fell into an awkward silence. King Alvaelic cleared his throat…

"Since we're all oath-bound… my son's soul was similarly ejected, and I do not expect he made it to Elysheim… I am bound for Elysheim too soon to change my plans for inheritance, and nor do I wish I could change them."

Calivar gasped - had his father known all along?

+++++

Surprisingly, the fact that Calivar and I were both foreign souls now inhabiting the bodies of fae royals was treated as more of an unfortunate curiosity than as an unprecedented and deeply dangerous event. While souls from Earth had only ever occupied fae bodies twice, as far as anybody knew, it comprised the same basic principle as bodily possession. Unlike the religious concept of demonic possession, where a demon occupies or corrupts a person's body and must be expelled, an actual possession involves a spirit expelling the original soul from a body and occupying it permanently (or until replaced by another soul, potentially the original). In Alfheim there are entire books filled with studies of bodily possession, and it was generally agreed upon that possessed bodies retained some mix of traits from the original body and the original spirit - thus, if the spirit was virtuous, then there was no problem. It had even been suggested as a way of dealing with the criminally insane, though this was eventually deemed inhumane (or, rather, 'unfair').

I'd worried that there would be angry demands that my mother renounce me as heir and banish me or something similarly draconian. There was none of that, thank Gaia. But if Alathea thought her disclosure would make my expertise (or Calivar's) on Earth warfare and tactics more compelling to the other three monarchs, she was woefully mistaken. And, despite the ineffectiveness of fae mages against Earth weapons when Orealis and the King in the South's armies invaded Autumnal, Presimiwe seemed to think more battle mages was the answer.

"I have hundreds of powerful magic-users at my beck - most aren't yet battle-hardened, but I should think we'd have a thousand war-mages between the four realms ready within months if we ordered them to prepare for battle. Urth's rifles will be no match for a cavalcade of targeted lightning strikes."

"You've not yet seen real artillery weaponry," Calivar stated. "The biggest shells cause as much damage as one of Laeanna's lightning strikes and can cause it from a far greater distance than Laeanna can respond with storms or meteor strikes… And, I'm afraid to say, if we've got a thousand battle-mages at the ready, that doesn't mean you've got a thousand Laeannas or even a hundred. I could manage perhaps two of those lightning bolts, and at a much smaller range… unless I can get my own spellsword."

Presimiwe scoffed. "You and the girl have been training in fae magic for less than a year - perhaps we can all wield the things."

Calivar creased his brow and made a series of complex hand motions, causing a crude little dog figure to rise up out of the table's solid alamite, march around, and sink back into the smooth surface. It was a skill that spoke of many years of magical practice, even if it wasn't a particularly powerful spell. "I have all of my predecessor's instincts and I'm a fast learner," he said. "But spellswords and great mages are not made overnight. Our mages will help, but don't assume they'll do more than slow the enemy down."

Alvaelic nodded. "I'm inclined to agree with my son. Presimiwe, I'll send you as many mages as I can spare for your plan, once it is concrete… but I think we need to focus on fielding our own ryfles and kanons."

"We must all establish our own workshops for these weapons… but producing enough to make a difference will take time," Gaelin said. "Our reliance upon magic has made us industrially weak, even by Alfheim's standards."

"Have we even got time?" Alathea said. "Let's say the King in the South…" she glanced toward Alvaelic… "whomever that may be… let's say he brings in two thousand men a week for a year, with their ryfles and their steel ships. I don't care how many ryfles of our own we make, nor how many people we teach fancy oncaran flips and holds, we cannot defeat such an army. Laeanna and Calivar have secured a great victory, and it is time for us to press that advantage."

"I'll not send my army to the Outer Realms to be slaughtered," Alvaelic snorted.

Calivar put his hand on his father' arm. "I can defeat them - Laeanna and I can…"

"You don't know that - marching right into their stronghold is foolishness. I'll not allow it…"

"You'll allow whatever we collectively decide," Alathea said. "We all will - those are the rules of the moot. We've all agreed to them, and we've all met here to observe them."

"Well said," Presimiwe stated. "I've made my mind up. What about you, my lords and ladies?"

"My mind is firm," Alvaelic said.

"As is mine," my mother added.

"My vote is set," Fostolas said.

Then they voted - three votes to one. They voted to raise a defensive army, to build rifles, and to prepare to defend the realms against invasion. Alathea was the lone vote against, and I had to wonder whether her vote was simply calculated to placate her daughter - I'm sure she didn't relish sending tens of thousands to die in a foreign land any more than the others did. For that matter, neither did I. I'd escaped a horrible war on Earth and would prefer to avoid them from here on out whenever I could manage it. But, in this case, I was convinced that the fae monarchs were making a mistake, and they wouldn't realize it until their cities were being leveled by artillery from miles away.

As the others stood to part, Alvaelic regarded his son uneasily. "I hope we can leave all this nonsense of wars and invasions behind us…"

Calivar nodded - what else was there to do? He couldn't very well raise an army without the king's leave. "And let's pray to Gaia they aren't in front of us instead."

"Indeed."

For my part, I didn't know what to say. I needed say nothing to my mother - she'd supported me and made her best attempt at defending me and convincing the others of the wisdom of a preemptive attack, whether or not her heart was truly in it. The strange ways of fate had made us mother and daughter, and I no longer felt any resentment in her when she acknowledged me. But I had a father and a foster brother, too, and I could only guess at how hurt they felt. I hadn't done anything wrong, per se… or, rather, I'd made the best choice available at the time in keeping my strange arrival in Alfheim a secret, but at the cost of misleading people who had a right to the truth. Well, the truth was out now and they probably hated me.

I wandered over to the platform, looking out over the realms. The trip down would be a lot easier than the flight up, and we could make the descent individually if need be. But I'd have to go out of my way to avoid them at the lodge on Half-Snowed. Maybe they'd be too angered and disgusted by my treachery to stand my presence and would ride right through to Hibernal. Part of me hoped they'd do just that.

So far above Alfheim, the dawn was a brilliant rose and orange blaze. The moot had lasted clear through the night and I was dead tired. I'd count myself fortunate to make my way clear to the tree, let alone proceed back to Vernal yet. Below me, the clouds were a gray mist gradually fading to white with the sun, and the forest below, visible through the little holes in the clouds, was so dark that it appeared black. From here, the whole world looked like little puddles of black in an infinite realm of clouds, and part of me wished I could stay up here forever, that I could forget wars and rifles and possibly-re-estranged relatives angry that I'd lied to them.

"Hey," someone said behind me.

At first, I thought it was Calivar, and I turned without really looking and mindlessly pulled them into a hug, sighing against their warmth. With a start, I realized it was not my husband - he was shorter, slimmer, and far too pale. I took half a step away and blushed - it was Gaelin.

"Sorry… I thought you were… sweet Gaia, where do I even start?" I said. "You must hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?" he sounded genuinely surprised. "I'm sad… I'll miss my sister… but humans and fauns lose loved ones all the time, don't they? Oncarans and sauryx and all the rest. They lose them, maybe forever… who knows what awaits them in the hereafter… and yet they manage to get along and continue with their lives. If they can bear the loss, then so can I. Especially since you're so like Laeanna…"

"I am Laeanna," I insisted.

Gaelin sighed and pulled me back close, and this time I leaned into him and enjoyed the warmth. "You know what I mean," he said. "I notice the difference, of course, but it's not so great. We fae change over the centuries… not that I have experience with centuries yet… but from century to century, we may change as much as any two people with similar personalities. I think you were permitted into Laeanna's body because your soul was so similar to hers already, and… I suppose what I'm saying is that I'll be happy to be your brother if you'll let me be."

"I will!" I said, and I kissed him on the cheek. "And I'll sing to you in fae or English or woodsong whenever you visit."

"Or when I come with you," he said.

I blinked. "What?"

"Your mother told me you were venturing to the Outer Realms…"

I blinked again. "She… what?"

Gaelin cocked his head. "She said…" he cleared his throat… "Your sister is going to the Outer Realms, and after what she managed in Autumnal, I'm not nearly foolish enough to try to stop her. But I'm also not keen on being the only fae queen to ever lose a daughter twice. I would consider it a personal favor and a favor to Vernal if you were to accompany her," he said.

I giggled - Gaelin certainly had a way with impressions, getting the precise, slightly lilting pronunciation and rapid clip of Alathea's speech exactly right. "So… you want to join big sis… on a journey that I didn't realize I was taking until just now… as a favor to my mother?"

He shook his head. "I want to join because I don't want to lose two sisters… and giving the bastards who killed my first sister and invaded our realms two black eyes and a bloody lip has a certain appeal, too."

I tousled his hair. "I think that sentiment must run in the family."

You have to hand it to Alathea - she's the sort of ruler who's cultivated enough experience that she knows what the people around her want before they're even aware of it themselves. Of course it was inevitable that Calivar and I would be journeying to the Outer Realms to rescue Ben and cause as much of a ruckus as we could, but we hadn't even thought to discuss that we might do it when my mother concluded it was our only likely course of action.

As a plan, it made a lot of sense, too: if we could thwart the King in the South's plans, then there would be no war… whereas, whether the fae took a war between Earth soldiers on the offensive or defensive, there would be many tens of thousands of deaths, whether or not we were eventually successful. And, while all of the fae monarchs had pledged to keep their armies at home, shore up their defenses, and expand the production of weapons, none of them had said anything about the royal guard of various princes and princesses staying home. We could take what would amount to a large platoon and do as we wished without violating the strictures of the moot.

+++++

Since the Outer Realms were in the south, it didn't make much sense to ride all the way back to Vernal, which was the northernmost of the fae realms (you'd think it would be Hibernal, but it's not). Instead, we sent word to our respective guards, meeting up with the remainder of Gaelin's men along our march past Hibernal and waiting for another two days at Firecrown the southern edge of Autumnal for anybody else who wished to accompany us - I'd made it clear to my guard that our campaign to the Outer Realms was purely voluntary and likely to be quite dangerous. But, if any of my guards had qualms about making the trip, they didn't voice them - Lieutenant Ro lead seven men and three women to meet us along the fae trade road (in addition to the even five and five I already had as my escort).

"Do you need to rest?" I asked.

Ro stamped his hooves and nodded. "For an hour or two, princess. We've only been riding for three hours, but it's likely to be five or six more before the day's done - we'll want to eat, piss, and change the horses."

Gaelin's men gawked at the exchange - most lieutenants weren't so casual with princesses, but most hadn't campaigned with them through a month of heavy fighting, either.

Beyond the frontier fort of Firecrown, we could see down from the ramparts, across the tract of golden, scrubby grassland to the Wyrmic river glittering in the midmorning sun. Beyond that were the green forests and spotty wetlands of Wyrmsreach, where it was still summer, though fall was fast approaching. Yes, Alfheim has actual seasons outside of fae. I felt somebody sidle up behind me along the wall and I nearly leaned back to pull them into a hug before I realized that I knew a number of people whom I was not on a casual hug basis with who liked to sidle. A casual tilt of my head, though, filled my vision with rose-colored hair and the scent of wildflowers. Meliswe hugged me and nuzzled into my cheek before I could reach for her, our fingers entwining as her hands slid into mine.

I noted her little crown of golden flowers. "Those are Meliswe's Marigolds."

"Dill made it for me," she said. "I didn't ask - she just made it. I think she feels guilty."

I'd tried to send Dill back three times, offered her guards and mithrins for a safe trip back to Vernal City or Blue Fern, whichever she wished, and she'd refused me all three times. She didn't give her reasons and I wasn't going to demand them. I wasn't going to ask a fourth time, either, so I suppose my handmaiden was coming with us into Wyrmsreach and into the Outer Realms across the sea. We weren't exactly going on a holiday.

"I've never been outside of the fae realms," Meliswe mused - her gaze tracked the river just as mine did. "I mean except the wilds between the realms. But I never dreamed I'd even want to."

"I don't want to."

"I know," she sighed. "But you're going, and if you're going then that means I want to."

"You're too good for me."

"I know." She kissed my cheek. "Now come back to our room. Calivar says we have time for a special bath before we leave."

My eyebrows slinked up. "Special?" How could I possibly pass that up? The Outer Realms could wait another hour.