The Testimony of Her Eminence and Most Puissant Sentience Tara del D’myn, Matriarch of Skarsia and All Humanity, Nuncio to the Combine of Sentients
As suddenly as it started, the rain stopped. The microcams I sent after Tielo were able to catch up to him. He was standing under the Atlas Tree. The ground beneath his feet had returned to normal.
He was able to have that much control by pulling energy from Yggdrasil, a galaxy away, with no augmentation from Skarsium crystals. He was able to match the might of the power grid. But that power grid depends on a nau’gsh, and not just any nau’gsh. All the crystals do is amplify and direct the power being routed from the nul-universe by the Archon or Archons.
Lady Magdelaine met me in the hall. She spotted the trail of blood from my injury. “How many times must I tell you not to bleed on the carpets, missy?” she groaned. “Anyway, Tubby sent me to fetch you. He says that there are reports of massive power outages on Volparnu and in the asteroid belt.”
“It figures. Emo-bois decides to throw a temper tantrum, and now he can’t supply the part of the system that was covered by Goliath. It’s surprising that it hasn’t happened before now.”
And then I realized exactly how to find him. “Get Sir Kaman over here,” I commanded.
“Sir Kaman is in Eavis. He’s attending to the trees that were damaged in the riot this morning.”
“Even better. Get him on holo.” Lady Magdelaine and I went back to the Ipsissimal Suite. I mixed myself a drink while she sent the message. Kaman was quick to respond.
“Sir Kaman, I want you to examine every tree in that grove for root damage.”
“Root damage? But why? The firebombing hit the branches.”
“Just do it. Look for a tree with badly retarded taproot growth for its size.” I was sure it was there, the same thing that happened to the first Archon. It’s a result of a skin effect phenomenon arising from erratic energy pull when a tree’s circumference is too small to handle the amount of energy the power grid is drawing from it. From everything we know, not only is D’noe a young tree, but he’s also a lone branch, which will make it that much worse. The optimal design for an Archon is a large tree with as many sub-trunks as possible – exactly like Atlas or Goliath.
Kaman messaged me a few hours later, confirming what I knew. Then I asked Thoughtful to send another message, but this time, a private one to Nan-Zee which would hopefully not be seen by Lamark.
I started by sending her the evidence – the scans of Ashnanzee II compared to healthy Cu’enashti root growth. “At this rate, he’ll be dead in months. Soon, it will be irreversible. The roots are a tree’s most vulnerable part. No roots mean no water, no minerals, no nul-energy. He won’t be able to get what he needs to repair himself. And for some reason that no one can really explain, a Cu’endhari allocates its energy first to the human emanation, maintaining and repairing it before the tree is mended. Even staying in a human form could be hurting D’noe at this point. If you want him to survive, you’ve got to tell him to return the Staff of the Matriarch to me.”
I left it at that. What I decided not to say was that the Domha’vei would be plunged into disaster long before that happened. It had started already. But I didn’t get the sense that Nan-Zee was particularly altruistic. I was hoping that she had some attachment to these Cu’enashti she’d pulled into existence by the force of her will, but maybe not. Elma didn’t seem to.
Elma wouldn’t tell me the trick of how she had accomplished that. “You’ve got five trees,” she’d said at the time. “Why do you need to know?”
Well, now I had six. Nevertheless, the information would have been helpful in this situation. I knew it has something to do with taking enough Gyre, and being in physical contact with the tree, and being able to direct your desires directly at it. Until Nan-Zee, no one else had known the secret either. Cu’enashti chose to emanate for whom they willed, and when they willed.
It would take sixteen hours for Nan-Zee to get that message. Probably another sixteen if she decided to go through Colonel Graysal to reply. Somehow, I didn’t think the SongLuminants would help to convey her message of surrender.
Could Tielo hold out for that long? Would D’noe give up, or would he divert even more of our resources to his petty battle against Ash?
There was someone at the door behind me. Someone who had gotten past security. I turned to face Windsong. She must’ve flown through the wall.
“I’m sorry we left in the middle of fighting the Alliance Fleet,” she said. “We’d completed the plan objective, and I and I had no way of knowing that there would be complications which required Her continued presence.”
“We managed. We were all worried about you.” There were so many things left unsaid in that statement, such as, “We were worried about you because we thought you might go off on another insane rampage,” and “What do you mean, I and I had no way of knowing? Ash would’ve known.”
“I needed some time to myself to reflect,” Windsong continued. “The Cantor may be rooted in her ways, but Heavensent was perhaps overly optimistic. The Cu’enashti need leaders who are capable of reacting to the changing times, but at the same time have their roots firmly in the soil.”
“You’re looking to take power again?”
She shook her head. “Not government, guidance. No one is supervising the grand jeté. If we had been, perhaps the tragic misleading of D’noe would never have happened. The Cantor was meant to be an educator, not a politician. She was never any good at politics.”
“What about Hellborne?”
“For now, the Cantor and I outweigh her voice. It would be easier if we had a fourth branch, but I and I doesn’t know how to generate one of Her own will. Perhaps after all of this is over, Ashtara could teach Her.”
I reached a decision. “You have to settle matters internally with the forest. For your help against the Alliance, and your heroic actions in saving the citizens both human and nau’gsh of Eavis, I’m willing to issue an ipsissimal pardon for the atrocities committed by Elma’ashra during the Cu’ensali War. By Elma’ashra,” I stress. “Hellborne is still under interdiction, so make damn certain that she doesn’t emanate.”
Windsong nodded and took her leave. It was better that way. In the long run, I’d rather negotiate. It’s a hard-won skill, however. On the spur of the moment, my temper gets the best of me. That’s why I depend so much on Patrick.
In the short run, I have to grit my teeth to keep from lopping heads when I get angry. But my anger fades quickly, and I don’t have the taste for butchery. I have to steel my resolve. There were good reasons to pardon Elma’ashra, both political and personal. There was no excuse to pardon Venahalee, even if she was only 23.
Guinnebar was only 25 when I snapped her neck with a solid kick to the head. But that was in battle, and she had crucified Jamey, and she had been threatening to burn the Atlas Tree.
My mother, the Terror of Nightside Elsinore, Battlequeen of Kyrae, Empress of Sideria, had wanted me raised on Dolparessa so I wouldn’t have to fight. If the 5th Matriarch hadn’t had my parents murdered, maybe I wouldn’t have to. What kind of a father was Almiss to push his daughter into this? To push her to challenge me for Kyrae when she was sixteen?
Venahalee was not the only one fighting a grudge match. She blamed me for her mother’s death and her aunt’s, even though I didn’t personally lay a hand on either of them. But her aunt ordered the deaths of my parents.
And we were all the descendants of Ernst Sider, who set all of this in motion when he programmed the Staff and planted the father tree. It was long past time to settle this family feud for good.