After dinner, the king decreed that the Freston troops would stay at the Royal Garrison, and Laurel would be a palace guest, as “the embassy, Ambassador, is not a healthy place to be, with who knows how many Pale Death spiders infesting it.” He had earlier sent his Own to get Ryson and the men Suiden had left to guard him, and as soon as Ryson arrived, he was sent to the garrison stockade to join the other prisoners.
Laurel had not joined us for dinner, but had overseen Groskin and Doyen Allwyn in shoveling the pyre ashes into wheelbarrows and dumping them over the cliff into the sea, so that not even a bone fragment remained.
“The bridge is also fixed, honored king, so that the briars will open for travelers unless they are a threat to the throne.” Laurel looked tired as he ran a paw over his head, causing his beads to clack and feathers to flutter. He stood at the door of the room that Jusson, Javes, Suiden, Thadro, Basel the ghost and I, with butterflies, had retired to. Everyone else had been dismissed, including Lord Esclaur and the rest of the wolf pack.
“Come and sit down a moment, Ambassador,” Jusson said. “We’ve all had a hard day and are due a little respite.” At his signal, I poured a glass of bloodwine from one of several pitchers, and offered it to the Faena.
Laurel hesitated, then entered the room, the guards outside shutting the door behind him. “For a moment, honored king.” He sat down on the couch next to me, placing his staff beside him. I handed him the glass and he sighed deeply as he drank, licking the wine off his whiskers. “That’s very good.” He smiled and finished the glass, handing it back to me to refill.
“So, tell me, Ambassador Laurel, are you making progress with Chancellor Berle?” Jusson asked.
“It seems so, honored king,” Laurel began, reaching for his glass. As I handed it to him, though, I brushed against the staff and, with a flurry of wings, the butterflies leapt up from my shoulder and flew to the sill of an open window. I blinked. What the hell?
Watching the butterflies, Laurel placed his glass on the table before us and rose from the couch, picking up his staff. As he raised it, the butterflies flew out the window.
“All right, what’s going on?” Javes asked.
“I believe that’s my question,” Jusson said.
Laurel lowered his staff, his amber eyes reflecting the candlelight. “Lord Rabbit is coming into his full power, honored king.”
“You’ve already said that,” Jusson pointed out.
“There are affinities that come with the power. Mine is earth and it appears that Lord Rabbit’s is air.” A breeze, for drama’s sake, gently blew around me for a moment.
“There are also signs, badges if you will.” Laurel indicated himself. “I walk as a man would; normal cats do not.” His whiskers swept back. “Even the ones who deign to associate with noncats.” Noncats? I wrenched my gaze from the window and stared at the Faena, now wondering at how his universe was divided.
“Lord Rabbit’s badge is his hair, perhaps because of some relationship between that and his strength.” Laurel eyed the length and thickness of my braid. “It’s something for him to explore.”
“You’ve said that too. Get to the point, Ambassador.” Jusson said.
“Yes, honored king,” Laurel said. “I thought the butterflies were also part of the same affinity-and-badge marking as they are creatures that ride the wind. It appears that I was mistaken.”
“Then what are they?” Jusson asked.
“We had physical translations at the embassy this morning where the troopers became what they would be—if they chose—in the Border.”
“I was a wolf,” Javes murmured, still watching me.
“Yes, the Captain Prince was a dragon and my guards were griffins. I’ve heard all about it,” Jusson said as Suiden looked sidelong at Javes. “The point, Ambassador.”
“I didn’t think that a physical translation could be sustained outside of the embassy, but again I was mistaken.”
“Didn’t you say, Sro Cat, that we were changed anyway?” Suiden asked.
“Not that changed yet, honored captain, else there would be fae and fantastic beasts roaming Iversterre.” Laurel did not look at Jusson. “Or should I say, more of them.”
“The point, Ambassador,” Jusson said. “Please.”
“I’ve made it, honored king.” Laurel waved a paw around. “The People once lived on this land and either changed it or were changed by it. Perhaps both. Now you live here and the land is changing you.”
“What does that have to do with the damn butterflies?”
“They were translated also, honored king, and didn’t want to change back.” Laurel frowned at me. “We should talk, Rabbit, about allowing strangers to latch on to you.”
“Strangers!” Jusson turned to the captains and the Lord Commander. “They’re not any of ours?”
“No, sire,” Thadro said as Javes and Suiden shook their heads. “Everyone’s accounted for.”
“There are the rebels—” I began.
“No,” Suiden said. “You had them fluttering around you yesterday in the embassy courtyard.”
That was true.
“Then perhaps they’re your fellow countrymen, Ambassador Laurel,” Jusson said.
“No,” Laurel said. “I am alone.” He then stared down at his paw, frowning. He rubbed it against his side. “At least, I thought I was.”
“You can’t tell?” Jusson stared at Laurel. “Do you mean to tell me that the Border is filled with, uh—”
“Folk,” I supplied.
“—folk who shift shapes, so that you don’t know if it’s really a butterfly or something else?”
“And who’d want to be a butterfly?” Thadro muttered.
“Yes, honored king,” Laurel said, ignoring the Lord Commander. “You get used to it.”
“That’s confusion and madness,” Jusson said. “How can the Border function?”
“There are customs, structures and governances,” Laurel said. His whiskers swept back in a smile. “There are also the Faena. Between us all, we manage to keep it reasonably sane.”
“Define sane,” I muttered.
Laurel chuffed. “It does get a little lively now and again, no?” He bowed. “Permission to withdraw, honored king. I wish to check the wards at the church and then meditate, as tomorrow promises to be another eventful day.” He looked at me. “Perhaps Lord Rabbit—”
“Permission given, Ambassador, and Lord Rabbit will stay with us,” Jusson said.
Laurel sighed and, wishing us good night, left the room. As he walked out, though, he cast a frowning glance at the window the butterflies flew through.
“ ‘You are changing, honored king, and your kingdom is sliding towards chaos.’ Then a good night, and he’s gone,” Jusson said. He picked up his glass, drained it, then held it out for Javes to refill. “Butterflies, ghosts, talking cats, mages, glowing circles, sorcerers, wind and thunder!” He eyed me over his glass rim. “Until you arrived, cousin, the only things I had to worry about were the Turalian navy and overambitious lords.”
“It doesn’t seem to be bothering you much, Your Majesty,” Suiden remarked as I finished my glass of wine. I reached for the pitcher in front of me to pour another.