Mountains Vast and a Kingdom So Red

Chapter 102

At the kelp colored dinner table, Bedivere chews his food and endures Melusine's flirting. She hints that if he picks her favorite flowers come tomorrow, he may move up to Secund. He gamely nods, shelving a thought to pick the thorniest, ugliest plants. Across from him is Hovebath orbiting them in the same gentleman manner. But the powerful male's wink belies this. A threesome Bedivere cannot repeat and not just because Karlisle suggested celibacy.

Xirna appears, silent as she places food on her plate and fills her glass with luxury champagne. Hovebath raises a brow.

"Are you celebrating?" When she does not respond, he continues. "You must have a reason to pluck this bottle without asking."

Melusine argues with him, stating she will not stand for his antics and that chosens can take anything from the kitchen. He roars banging a hand on the table, an exercise in a facade. Beneath the surface, Bedivere rolls his eyes. They are truly bored, truly useless. An itch scratches the base of Bedivere's spine.

"Excuse me, do you have the paper?" he asks.

Hovebath smiles, explaining the paper comes in the morning.

Xirna makes eye contact with her partner. She senses something. As much as the pair is steeped in resources, they are poor in information.

"Would you like me to pour you some, my lord?" She stresses to Hovebath. He accepts. Melusine wants some as well and in five minutes the travelers vacate the table.

Karlisle's handwriting is blocky and Bedivere learns that he wishes to invoke a plan. He shows it to Xirna in their quarters and she is impressed enough that the male moves fast.

The palace's stable is empty save for the horses. No whispers and the Opti welcomes the pair as they move inside. He wears a hat with a curved brim and armor. Morning chill appears to bite Xirna's shoulders since she puts on a cardigan. She looks at the horse and looks to the commander.

"I am flying," she asserts. "To whatever place we are headed."

"I forgot all about flying. Bedivere, is this permissible?"

He nods and chooses to ride a horse instead of dangling in Xirna's arms.

The expanse of the Faire's Kingdom does not stretch far. They cannot go toward the direction of the wolves' mountains and if they venture north they will hit the villages. All that is afforded to them is the dessert so this is where they situate themselves. Karlisle rolls out a camp blanket and cricks his neck on top of it.

"Flying is a great art but a stiff chore. When you are five hundred years old, I suppose it is hard to find joy in it." No one bites.

"I imagine you have a plan for us to befriend Firdous?" Bedivere says.

"Yes. First thing to know. He does not like his chosens. To him it is an obligation. If he had the sway, he would surely banish them all from the palace and live as a hermit."

"But he depends on them," Xirna argues. "One of the alchemists taught him poison, gave him the soup?"

"I think Firdous made the soup himself; the ingredients are natural, for the most part."

"What else about him?" Bedivere asks.

"Hmm. He is a mellow person besides poisoning kings. He might appreciate a new magnifying glass," Karlisle offers.

"Does he have a hand in the colony you spoke about?" Bedivere says.

"Not deep in the details. That is more Thorikos and Parisa's area," he clarifies.

"A colony sounds portentous," Xirna says. "Why are fairies there?"

His eyes shine with a false humor. "You detectives have not mapped the truth?"

Bedivere watches the male. "No, tell us."

"Chosen males were recruited and charged with one assignment. Impregnate human women. That is what they are doing."

Xirna's breath stops. "That is why these halls are absent of them. What kind of impregnation?"

Bedivere winces. He imagines test tubes and basters of sperm, a cleaner reality for these savages as opposed to something non scientific.

Karlisle takes off his hat and guards his emotions. "Sex slavery. Mass rape. They want babies. They want a population. An influx of half breeds."

When the group falls silent, Karlisle continues his thought. "I think you two could do more damage than F. I think you were brought here for my salvation, foolish as it sounds."

"Why would we save you? You are complicit in the matter. Did you fetter the women so the males could perform the job?" Xirna says, rage spiking, a rage bright enough to scorch the desert.

"I took means to save them. It is very complicated. You need to see it to believe it," he says. It is unclear if he believes they truly should–that the horror needs to be witnessed.

Bedivere scratches his chin. "What about the Relief and Aid Passengers?"

"I worked with them. They should still be there, but their progress..." the commander sighs. "It might be different that Parisa is overseeing the project now."

"The shifters had a myth. The origin of their species is a myth but it still included rape. When the tides reveal this truth, will the pantheon justify it? Divine intervention, evolution?" she muses.

"It is an atrocity," Bedivere tells her. "The pantheon will lose their allies."

Karlisle coughs. "It is a little early for allies. Let us not get embroiled in the colony for now. Which one of you wants to purchase Firdous a magnifying glass?"

Bedivere Simmons furiously scribbles in his journal, enacting a poetry he has never tries. The poems are rooted in hate, in fear, and in frustration and sorrow. He wishes to hug his mother, kiss his brother, surround himself with the fortified friendships in Nirminda. He worries about a second coming of plague; the Boardsboa inn keeper's theory may be true. He sleeps with vultures. He has no one but Xirna but she seems contended. The least, adjusted, since she has the Communis. Panic surges in his gut. He places the pen down and showers, scrubbing his body raw.

The fourth brings new debt: corner Firdous in a capricious fashion. Xirna shakes her knapsack at Bedivere and removes a magnifying glass complete with a stainless steel handle. He nods and they whisper in the parlor room, which they unlocked with a key fob. He suggests that approaching the pantheon member's room might display desperation so it would entreat them both to bait him in a public space. Xirna considers this and says they should ask Lo, a sociable pantheon member, when a festival will arise. During the afternoon meal at the palace, Xirna finds out that a festival will be had in Firdous's honor in a week's time. It is a celebration of Firdous's tenth anniversary in the pantheon. Xirna molds her expression well, going on about how thrilled she is to dance with Bedivere. And the conversation drifts to other fodder until Hovebath takes over. He declares he has received a notice that a package is en route for Bedivere. And it is estimated to arrive in six days. Surprise tugs at him but he merely thanks the pantheon member and tries to think of what to say if any ruler grows suspicious but they have no inquiries about the package.

Six days letter, Bedivere wanders to the security deposit box in a secure room on the fifth floor. A guard has escorted him here and waits by the door. The pronged key rams the lock and it turns, revealing a rectangular package quite beat up from the trip. He looks for a label but none is to be found. The guard startles him and places a scanner over the package. Bedivere sees the guard's forehead wrinkle.

"Where is the seal?" the guard says.

"Oh, I am not sure," he says.

The guard takes the package and turns it over. Something rattles within. "Ah, there it is," the guard says, his thumb tapping the seal. He scans it and hands the box to Bedivere. "Here you go. I will walk you out." Bedivere holds the package as if it were a babe and leaves the locker filled room. The guard swings the wheel around to lock the facility and turns to Bedivere. "You forgot something," he remarks.

Bedivere freezes. "Yes?"

"The key." Bedivere gives it to the guard and descends the stairs.