Mad Queen, page 7
The words took Thomas completely by surprise. He opened his mouth to protest, to point out that Halvy’s response to being freed was beyond anyone's ability to predict or control, but Morgana continued before he could speak.
"However," she said, stopping again without turning back around to face him, “I’m not incapable of mercy. In recognition of the destruction that befell Avalyeth, and your assistance in containing Klingsor's threat, I will grant you six months to prepare for my promised retribution.”
Thomas stared at her in shock, struggling to process the magnitude of what she was announcing. Six months instead of five years. Half a year to build the coalition necessary to resist her empire, to strengthen defenses, to prepare for the war that would determine the galaxy's future.
"Six months from today," Morgana continued, her eyes blazing with cold fire. "I will begin systematically retaking every world that has defied imperial authority. Starting with Avalyeth, then Falias, then any other system foolish enough to believe your protection means anything. Use the time wisely, Sir Dragon. Gather your allies, strengthen your defenses, say goodbye to the people you care about, because when those six months expire, I will show you the same mercy that your little wizard showed my son."
Thomas finally found his voice, anger and desperation breaking through his shock. She stepped toward the teleportal. "Morgana, wait—"
But she was already gone. The corridor fell silent, leaving Thomas alone with the devastating implications of her final pronouncement.
Six months. Not the five years they had negotiated, not the breathing space he had counted on to build their resistance into something capable of challenging her empire. Six months to accomplish what was already a monumental challenge to complete.
Thomas stared at the empty teleportal, his mind racing through impossible calculations. How many worlds could they liberate in six months? How large a fleet could they assemble? How many allies could they convince to stand against the Dragon Queen when she finally came for them?
The questions multiplied endlessly, each one more daunting than the last. Beneath his mounting despair, Arthur's essence stirred with quiet resolve. Six months might not be enough time to build the perfect coalition, but it would have to be enough. The alternative—watching Morgana systematically destroy every world that had dared to hope for freedom—was unacceptable.
The war for Avalon's soul had just accelerated beyond all expectations.
CHAPTER 8
The moment Excalibur emerged from the wormhole, Thomas could see the devastation wrought across Avalyeth's once-pristine surface.
“By the ancient trees, look what they did to her.” Kaelithan breathed, his tone heavy with sorrow as he took in the scope of destruction.
Even from their current distance, the scars—great swathes of blackened forest where fire had consumed ancient trees, tendrils of smoke still rising from smoldering ruins, and dark gouges across the verdant canopy where debris had crashed through the upper branches—were unmistakable.
With Morgana’s parting declaration still hanging like a leaden weight over his head, Thomas felt his crew's collective anguish washing through their shared connection. But as Vic always said, whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. They just had to utilize the abbreviated time she’d given them to the best of their ability.
Brennan guided them through approach vectors while his consciousness reeled at the sight of the wounded forests. Bilbic's small form trembled in his pod as he processed images of a world that had welcomed him with open arms, now bearing the marks of war. Even Burl, normally unflappable in the face of violence, projected waves of barely contained fury at the evidence of Turquine's cruelty.
"It's not as bad as it could have been," Aldrich said aloud. "The fundamental structure remains intact. Avalyeth will recover.”
"Aye, but at what cost?” Thorgrim asked, standing beside Kaelithan on the flight deck. “How many innocent folk died down there before we finished off the Death Walker?”
Before Thomas could respond, he sensed an incoming hail from the planet. He answered immediately. General Calithar’s face appeared, his expression strained and exhausted, but he wore a large grin, and his voice held an unmistakable note of joy.
“Daeardrayke. I’ve never been so happy to see anyone. Welcome home, heroes. Welcome home."
The word 'heroes' settled uncomfortably in Thomas' chest. Through the neural interface, he could sense his crew's similar discomfort with the title. They had done what needed to be done, nothing more.
"General Calithar." Thomas kept his voice steady despite the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "It's good to see you. How are you holding up down there?"
"Better now that you've returned with proof of your success," Calithar responded, his relief audible even through the static. "The moment Klingsor's machine stopped functioning, every undead creature on the planet simply collapsed. The fires took time to contain, but we've made excellent progress in the cleanup efforts."
Thomas felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. The immediate crisis had passed with no ongoing threat, no continuing casualties from an enemy that grew stronger with each life it claimed.
"We have wounded aboard," Thomas said. "Nothing critical, but they could use proper medical attention. Also, we have some...complications regarding passengers that will require careful handling."
A pause followed, during which Thomas could hear background chatter as Calithar consulted with his staff. "Understood, Daeardrayke. I'm afraid Primaltree’s crown landing pad sustained damage during the assault. We'll need to direct you to Quadtree instead."
Through the ship's sensors, Thomas could see Quadtree, where they had landed on his first visit to Avalyeth, when Excalibur had been gone from the galaxy so long that the Druids didn’t even recognize her for what she was. Unlike Primaltree, which showed visible scars across its upper reaches, Quadtree appeared mostly unharmed by the conflict.
“Copy that,” Thomas acknowledged. "We'll adjust our approach accordingly."
"I'll assemble a delegation to receive you there," Calithar continued. "High Elder Sylvia is eager to hear a full accounting of your mission, and I suspect every member of the council, and in truth, every Druid on Avalyeth wants to personally thank you.”
Thomas grimaced at the prospect of even greater attention, but duty demanded he accept whatever reception the Druids felt was appropriate.
Brennan, he projected through the neural interface, adjust course for Quadtree.
Aye, Captain. Thomas felt the shift in trajectory, Brennan already working through the navigational adjustments.
"General," Gareth's voice carried through the comms, his worry bleeding through despite his attempts to remain professional. "My wife and son—are they safe?"
"What about my family?" Kaelithan added, his voice trembling and nervous. "My parents, my sister, Thyreon—did they survive the attack?"
"All of them are safe," Calithar confirmed warmly. “Kaelithan, your parents' home sustained no damage whatsoever. Both your father and young Thyreon proved themselves more than adequate to handle the enemy’s efforts in their area.”
“Thank the stars,” Gareth said. “And Kael, you have an incredible family.”
“Indeed, I do,’ Kaelithan agreed.
As they approached Quadtree, the scope of the cleanup effort became more apparent. Teams of Druids worked throughout the forest levels, their green robes visible as they moved between platforms and walkways. Some carried tools for repairing damaged structures, while others tended to wounded trees with magical healing techniques. The sight filled Thomas with admiration for their resilience. They were a people who refused to let tragedy define them, who immediately set about rebuilding rather than dwelling on what had been lost.
The landing pad atop Quadtree, a natural platform formed by the convergence of several massive branches, came into view. Unlike the engineered elegance of Primaltree's crown, this landing area felt more organic, as if the tree itself had shaped its upper reaches to accommodate visitors.
The neural link allowed Thomas to sense Excalibur's engines throttling back as Brennan brought them into position above the landing platform. As the ship settled into a stable hover, Thomas saw the promised delegation of Druids—robed figures whose formal bearing marked them as officials—assembled on the platform. Guards whose wooden armor gleamed with protective enchantments stood interspersed among them. At their head stood General Calithar.
Excalibur's teleportal deployed near the waiting delegation, signaling their imminent arrival.Time to face the music, Percival mused. Think they'll expect speeches?
Probably, Thomas replied with resignation.
Why are you concerned, Captain? Bilbic asked. You’re an excellent orator.
Just because I can do it doesn’t mean I enjoy it, Thomas replied, opening his command pod and climbing out. Around him, his crew began following suit, their own pods opening as they severed their connections to Excalibur's consciousness.
“Kael,” Thomas said as the wizard approached, "I want to collect Halvy before we disembark. He should be part of this homecoming."
Kaelithan nodded eagerly. "I was thinking the same thing. He needs to see that Avalyeth survived and that this place remains his home.”
They left the flight deck together, making their way to Kaelithan’s quarters, only to find the door unsealed and the room empty. “He was here ten minutes ago,” the wizard said.
Merlin, where’s Halvy? Thomas asked silently.
The young wizard is with Norsp, my boy.
You should have informed me sooner. What if the Flayer harms him?
After Halvy saved his life? Unlikely, my boy. Besides, you’ve seen what he can do. I think you should be more worried for the Draconite.
You may be right about that, Thomas agreed, glancing at Kaelithan.“Halvy’s with Norsp.”
“What for?” Kaelithan asked, sharing in Thomas’ confusion and concern. The relationship between the traumatized boy and the surviving Flayer represented an unexpected development.
They made their way to the storage compartment they had hastily converted into quarters for the Draconite. The door had no security features, opening automatically at Thomas’ approach.
As it slid open, they discovered both occupants seated on the deck beside one another, their backs against the bulkhead. Norsp looked completely recovered from his injuries, his brown scales once again bearing their metallic luster while his massive frame radiated the controlled power that marked all enhanced Draconite.
“Halvy,” Kaelithan said, relief audible in his tone. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, everything’s fine,” Halvy replied. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I came looking for you at my quarters. I didn’t expect to find you here. With him.” His eyes turned cold as he gazed at Norsp.
Norsp and Halvy rose from the deck in unison. The synchronization of their movement surprised Thomas.
“We’ve reached Avalyeth, haven’t we?” Halvy asked.
“We have,” Thomas confirmed. “I thought you might want to join us. To see your home again.”
“I believe I would like that,” Halvy agreed, his tone less detached than before, but still lacking true emotion.
Thomas turned to Norsp. “You’re free to remain on board while we conduct our business on Avalyeth, but don’t think to cause any trouble, Merlin—”
“Captain Drake,” Norsp said, his voice soft. “On my honor, I have no intention of causing trouble for you, your crew, or your ship.”
“Well, that’s a change,” Kaelithan remarked.
The Draconite’s tone had caught Thomas off guard, but he refused to show it. He also refused to believe Norsp’s honor could be trusted. Still, he didn’t want to create friction with Halvy. Still recovering, the boy continued to exhibit a connection to the Draconite, and Thomas couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t take Norsp’s side in a disagreement.
“Once we’re done here, I can arrange transportation to virtually anywhere in the galaxy for you, including back to Draconia, if that’s what you wish,” Thomas continued, keeping his voice neutral. “Where would you like to go, Sir Norsp?”
Norsp glanced toward Halvy before answering. “Actually, if it's acceptable to you, I’d prefer to remain with Halvy."
For the third time in a minute, the Flayer surprised him. “I…I’m not sure I understand."
"I've failed everyone I've ever served," Norsp said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of accumulated regret. "I failed Queen Morgana when I couldn't please her well enough for her to keep me on as her personal guard. I failed Turquine by retreating from the mission on Avalyeth. I failed my fellow Flayers when I abandoned them to save myself." He paused, his gaze meeting Thomas's directly. “Halvy is all that remains of everything I was supposed to protect. I refuse to fail him as well."
The simple declaration carried such conviction that Thomas found himself reassessing everything he thought he knew about the enhanced Draconite. This wasn't the broken warrior they had rescued from a derelict ship. This was someone who had found a new purpose in the ashes of his previous existence.
"Halvy," Thomas said, turning to address the young wizard directly. "Do you want Norsp to stay with you?"
Halvy considered the question, his pale eyes moving between Thomas and the waiting Draconite. "Yes," he said. "Norsp understands me as I am now. In some ways, perhaps better than I understand myself. We share a bond, and I don’t wish to break it.”
“That’s not you talking,” Kaelithan said. “That’s the nanites.”
“I’ve thought about allowing you to destroy them,” Halvy answered, “but I’ve decided that’s not what I want. The nanites are part of me now, like an arm or a leg. Or even a heart. If you cut them out, I won’t go back to who I was before Trilthan's experiments. Who I was doesn't exist anymore. Pretending otherwise would be a lie. I’ll just lose who I am now.” He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment. "I can't be the Halvy I was with Turquine either. That person was a slave, forced to serve against his will. But I can be a new Halvy, someone who draws on experiences from both versions and becomes something different. Maybe something better."
Thomas felt Arthur's essence stir with approval at the young wizard's mature reasoning. Accepting the difficult truth that some changes couldn't be undone, he approved of the boy choosing his own path forward rather than allowing others to define his identity for him.
"That answer shows remarkable wisdom," Thomas said warmly. "I think that decision will serve you well in the years to come."
"I hope so," Halvy replied, though his voice carried hints of uncertainty beneath the determination. "There's still so much I don't understand about myself, but I think Avalyeth is a good place to start.”
Thomas caught the subtle shift in the boy's tone, less distant than before. It was a small sign of recovery, but a significant one. "I know High Elder Ossara is eager to meet with you,” Thomas said.
“And Thyreon will be overjoyed to see you as well,” Kaelithan added.
"It will be good to see him again," Halvy said, his voice warming with a hint of affection. “Even though so many things have changed for me, it feels good to be back home.”
"What about you, Norsp?" Thomas asked, turning his attention to the waiting Draconite. “In all honesty, I should turn you over to the guards, and allow the Druids to punish you for your crimes against them.”
“Crimes?” Norsp growled, growing agitated. “There were no crimes. It was war.”
“A war your master never openly declared. A sneak attack using dark magic,” Thomas countered. “But…” He put up his hand when Norsp opened his mouth to argue the point. “...while I could have you imprisoned, I can also have you set free, for Halvy’s sake.”
Norsp closed his mouth and nodded. “What do you require of me, Sir Dragon?”
“An oath of fealty,” Thomas replied. “Not to me, but to Halvy.”
Norsp nodded, relief visible in the lightening of his scales. “Gladly,” he said, dropping to a knee before the boy. “Halvy, I swear on my honor as a knight that I will serve you faithfully with my heart, soul, and sword for the remainder of my days or yours.”
Halvy placed a hand on the Draconite’s shoulder. It looked tiny against the Flayer’s bulk. “Norsp, I gladly accept your oath.”
Norsp rose to his feet. “Thank you, my friend.” He turned to Thomas. “The oath is made, and witnessed, I hope to your satisfaction.”
“It is,” Thomas agreed. “But you need to understand, your reception won't be particularly warm. The people of Avalyeth just finished fighting for their lives against forces that you’re partly responsible for delivering to their homeworld. I can keep them from arresting you, but I can’t prevent them from despising you. You need to keep that in mind too, Halvy.”
Norsp's expression didn't change, his reptilian features maintaining their acceptance. "I understand completely, Sir Dragon. I expect no welcome, no forgiveness, no acceptance beyond whatever tolerance they might extend for Halvy's sake."
“I won’t let them hurt him,” Halvy said. “It’s not his fault. Not really. The nanites…” He trailed off, unable to verbalize the full effect they’d had.
“I understand that, but he was still Morgana’s guard before he was with Turquine,” Kaelithan said. “I accept that anyone can change.” He shifted his attention to Norsp. “But fair warning. I’m not about to lower my guard where you’re concerned. Not yet, anyway.”
“I would expect no less,” Norsp replied. “I’ll give you no reason to doubt me.”
"All right. Meet us at the teleportal in fifteen minutes," Thomas said. "We'll disembark together and face whatever reception awaits us."
Merlin… Thomas activated their neural connection as he and Kaelithan left Norsp’s makeshift quarters. Tell the others to assemble at the teleportal in fifteen minutes. Full dress uniforms where applicable. This is going to be a formal occasion whether we like it or not.
