“it doesn’t.” All that mattered was enjoying the little time I had left with the love of my life before I nobly gave him up to his great destiny.
* * *
Con was gone from our bed when I woke at dawn, though I hadn’t heard Ibolya fetch him. He was no doubt off making plans, fired up to begin his mission, to pursue his delayed vengeance. I’d slept soundly and peacefully, blessedly free of nightmares, so I shouldn’t feel this listlessness. I definitely didn’t want to start missing him now, because soon I wouldn’t have him at all.
To dispel the clinging depression, I reached for the dreamthink—and Calanthe answered immediately, with rich sensory detail. The animals sang to me of their nighttime adventures and the freshness of morning. Flowers bloomed, fruit ripened, and people slept still or went about their activities. Though the damaged places around the island still felt like bleeding wounds, they also itched with healing energy—and called to me for attention.
Spurred into a sense of purpose—and feeling better for it—I threw back the covers, drew on my silk robe, and went to the outer chambers. Ibolya came from the bathing rooms, smiled and curtsied. “Good morning, Your Highness. The realm welcomes the sun of Your presence.”
“An appropriate adaptation to changed circumstances,” I replied, eyeing her attire. She’d left her hair loose and natural, though more studded with flowers than before. She’d also gone with an unstructured and more revealing gown. Emulating my fashion and setting one for the court, as a good lady-in-waiting should do.
“Thank You, Your Highness. Your bath is prepared, and I’ve set out several possible gowns for today. I wasn’t sure how You would want to dress Your hair.” She canted her head to look, and I obligingly turned in a circle. “It doesn’t appear to need washing or combing.”
“Like magic,” I agreed. “One less chore for you.”
“Tending You has never been a chore, Your Highness,” she protested.
“I misspoke. I apologize.”
She rolled her eyes in exasperation, and I found myself smiling back at her. Somewhere along the way, it seemed we’d become actual friends—and I’d learned to value that. An irony there, that I’d finally made some real connections with people, and they would all be leaving me.
Lest I fall into self-pity again, I hastened to bathe and dress. I wanted to visit the map tower before the breakfast strategy meeting, and I needed to do what I could to reinforce the ancient wards. Once I was ready for the day, which looked to be a long one, I tasked Ibolya to put things in place and send messages to everyone to meet in an hour.
Despite her protests, I went to the map tower alone. I needed the quiet to work, and to make myself accustomed to aloneness again. I’d visited the map of Calanthe with Dearsley the morning before, but even so it distressed me to see the changes to my beautiful island.
The map, tiled in loving detail over the wide floor of the circular tower, lay mostly in shadow with the sun barely tipping over the horizon, but here and there the gleaming tiles glittered. Magically maintained by a dedicated team of artisans, the map reflected the current state of Calanthe with unflinching candor.
I paced the circumference once, reaching for the dreamthink and putting my attention to a place somewhere between the magic that continuously updated the representation of the land and my sense of the island itself as it spoke to me.
On that first circuit, I concentrated on the enchantments protecting Calanthe. They responded to my will with ease, as if I’d been manipulating them all my life, accepting the intentions I layered in. I added elements of granite from my bedrock, the yielding yet eroding power of water, the tensile strength of plants, the ferocity of an animal defending its den. I’d told Con and his people that the layers of defenses couldn’t keep out a vurgsten attack, but they could prevent magical ones. The wizards would not be using magic against me. Not easily.
On the second circuit, I created a barrier of another kind, this one temporary and all my own. No birds would fly off Calanthe until I allowed free passage again. I had no doubt that plenty of Anure’s spies still infested my court. Tertulyn might be gone, but countless others—mostly cheerfully cavalier opportunists—remained. I couldn’t excise them all, but I could keep them from reporting on our plans to Anure.
On the third circuit, I extended myself