Rising Storm, page 107
Landmark's soft sigh of incredulity turned into a good-natured chuckle in response to the perplexed look on Phenomena's face. "Because it is her wedding day, you insensitive fool. I suspect few brides dream of being watched over like a hawk – the idea is for her to enjoy this day, for her to look back at these memories with nothing but fondness. Or is that a foreign concept to you?"
It was so easy, walking amiably through the palace gardens and exchanging harmless jests with the Third Prince of Shade, to forget the foreboding conversation that had passed between them earlier that morning – already Phenomena could feel his guard slipping, could hear his mind justifying away Landmark's uncharacteristic behavior. He suspected that if he spent much more time in Landmark's company, whiling away the hours with such witty and enjoyable banter, that he would convince himself the whole uncomfortable exchange had never happened. He supposed that was Landmark's plan, to charm him into forgetting his words altogether, and as much as it shamed Phenomena to admit it he was inclined to play along. Already the future seemed too bleak for him to imagine facing it without a friend beside him.
"Did you mean what you said this morning?" asked Phenomena suddenly, suspicious and confused and desperate all at once, and Lamar offered him a sidelong smile.
"Every word," the prince admitted, "though were I you I wouldn't dwell on the matter too much. You will understand the meaning of my words in time, and when you do we will speak of them then. To do so now will solve nothing."
Phenomena opened his mouth – to agree or to protest further, he wasn't certain – before unexpectedly closing it just as quickly and frowning in the direction of the city gates; Lamar followed his gaze without further prompting, curious as to what had derailed the doppelgängers train of thought, to find Limit Telltale strolling through the front gates alongside a flood of common folk. They exchanged a glance at this – hadn't he been sent to patrol the opposite side of the palace gardens with Headhunter? – before wordlessly moving to waylay the drop before he made it any further. Had they missed something? Had Glares given the drop-shade some additional instructions, and neglected to notify them?
"What are you doing?" Lamar demanded as they closed the distance, and Limit stopped short and studied them with wide, panic-stricken eyes; it was an expression most unlike the drop, and it served to pique Phenomena's curiosity immediately.
"I beg your pardon?" said Limit confusedly, alternating looks between the prince and the intimidates as though he scarcely recognized them.
Phenomena rolled his eyes skyward and had to remind himself that throttling a fellow council member was hardly an action befitting one of his station; instead he settled for clapping a hand down upon the dross's shoulder and giving him a little shake, more than a little perplexed when Limit reflexively flinched away from him. "Really now, this is hardly the time for your jests! What are you doing?! If Prince Glares finds you down here instead of patrolling the grounds with Headhunter as you were instructed – "
Limit interrupted him with a slightly-hysterical laugh that had Phenomena and Lamar exchanging yet another bewildered glance before saying, "Yes, well, Headhunter has been known to bore me from time to time."
"Be that as it may," Lamar conceded reluctantly, in a tone that suggested he felt the same where the senescent was concerned, "I hardly think that is a viable excuse for abandoning him now, of all times." The Third Prince's eyes raked the dross's figure appraisingly then, some unspoken realization souring his features, before adding bluntly, "You changed."
"What?" Limit barked raggedly, anxiety coloring his tone for reasons they could only guess.
Phenomena, however, caught the prince's meaning right away. "Your clothes," he pointed out, drawing the dross's FWIW out wide with a sweep of his arm. "Did you go back to Villa Cambric just to change?"
Limit answered this inquiry with yet another laugh, but the timbre of this one was relieved, relaxed even; there was something off about the entire scenario, but Phenomena simply couldn't put his finger on it. "Of course I did," the drop scoffed, waving one hand dismissively. "I am rather vain, you see, and wanted to look my best for the occasion."
"Your honesty is rather amusing," laughed Lamar, the last of his own suspicion melting away with his brightening smile. "I suppose you had better come with us… We are nearing the end of our rounds, and Glares will be expecting our report. I am sure both he and Headhunter will have a few choice words for you."
Lamar, it turned out, was only half right – Glares was hardly put out to find that Limit had abandoned Headhunter for his own selfish reasons, more relieved than anything to find that the drop-shade hadn't been waylaid by the priestess they expected would make an attempt on his life before the day was over, but Headhunter was just as furious as they had expected. The moment they had rejoined the rest of their unlikely companions the shadow sorcerer stalked wrathfully right up to Limit and seized him by the collar, his ceremonial fangs bared and his eyes glinting maliciously. "Have you no sense?!" he hissed, anger seething in every syllable he spoke. "When I turned back and found you gone I feared the worst! Had I known you would be content to abandon me at any time I wouldn't have bothered to concern myself with your welfare!"
Limit patted Headhunter indulgently on the shoulder and gave him a placid smile, though it was keenly obvious in his expression that he was hardly concerned with what bothered the senescent. "There there," he crooned, his would-be soothing tone mocking in a way. "You should know better than to worry yourself over me."
His eyes were darting about restlessly as though he was looking for something; Phenomena found himself increasingly bothered by the dross's out of character behavior, but couldn't bring himself to address it. He supposed he had acted strangely when he knew the threat of the drop position to be looming ever nearer, an inescapable omen whose time of arrival could not precisely be determined, and begrudgingly admitted he couldn't fault Limit his nervousness. The priestess could find herself in their midst in a minute, or an hour, or half a day, and there was no solace in such knowledge. Instead he found himself speaking reassuringly. "Fear not. No matter when or how the priestess chooses to reveal herself, her efforts will amount to nothing. You are in good company – your safety is as much a priority as Soil's is."
More than one derisive chuckle answered his words, alluding to the fact that the doppelgänger was stretching the truth, but Phenomena paid them no mind – he was too busy reeling over the shadow that crossed Limb's face as a result of his words. Though just as dark of skin as the rest of the shades there was something wrong about his pallor, as though something about what Phenomena had said served to drain some of the color out of his complexion. The notion that something wasn't right presented itself yet again, but Phenomena sublimated it. He had no right to judge.
"The ceremony approaches," Glares reminded them, but his coolly businesslike tone didn't match the smoldering intensity of his eyes. "Let us go together, and remember – keep your eyes on Sole as often as you can without drawing attention. None of us knows what form the assassin will choose to take, and we cannot afford even the briefest lapse in judgment."
Mourn fell into step behind the doppelgänger and beside the one who called himself Headhunter, relieved to find himself in the rear of their company so that he had ample time to master his own expression. Already he had given far too much away and felt that his flimsy excuse for a plan couldn't hope to serve him much longer – the doppelgänger, at the very least, suspected that something was amiss. Inwardly Mourn cursed himself. What had he been hoping to accomplish, allowing himself to be spotted and dragged into their congregation? He had no hope of abandoning their company now that he had landed himself in it, for he didn't know the real Limit Telltale well enough to know what sort of excuse he might make to escape them.
His mind was reeling with the snippets of information he had managed to glean since stumbling upon the prince and the doppelgänger near the palace gates. How could they know of Quart's impending arrival? The Spider Queen herself had orchestrated their movements in this most dangerous game, so how was it even possible that their enemies had hints of their passing? He had never taken much interest in the affairs of the divine and hoped for as long as he lived that he never again had to serve any deity as closely as he was now, but he couldn't help but fear that Share, the goddess whom the Shadow served, had taken a personal interest in the comings and goings of Eolith's children and had found some way to impart their plans to one of her own servants. But who? Mourn allowed his eyes to flit briefly over the five forms around him, quietly assessing but coming up short. This simply wouldn't do. He knew nothing of his adversaries, and somehow they had already anticipated his arrival!
Even more disconcerting than that, however, was the knowledge that the real Limit Telltale had been in their company perhaps minutes before Mourn had happened upon them, and now he was nowhere to be found... That could only mean that Quarter had fallen upon Limit already. The thought made Mourn sweat, made his heart race with panic. He had orchestrated this plot so carefully – Sunbath Blood had even given his life to give Mourn this chance! – and if the sadistic priestess got her hands upon Limit before he had the chance to complete his mission…
That meant that he had to get away from here as soon as possible, but how? His current company believed him to be the real Limit, and even if he could orchestrate some clever escape his absence would give them reason to be highly suspicious – after all, the real Limit had already left them without warning or explanation once already. And even if he managed to give them the slip, where then would he go? The City of Shade was wholly unfamiliar to him, and he knew nothing of Quart's intentions. If she had truly managed to get her hands on Limit Telltale, where would she have taken him? Had she killed him already? Was she even now safe back in Newspaperwoman, enjoying Eolith's eternal favor for eliminating the one drop that the Spider Queen detested above all others?
Realizing that he was on the verge of doing something foolish and drastic Mourn dragged in a shaky breath, slipping one hand inconspicuously beneath his FWIW and clenching his fingers around the hilt of his starlet dagger for strength; that gesture served to restore him somewhat to reason, and he considered the situation a little more calmly. From what he knew of Quarter she was possessed of a flair for the dramatic – for her, a simple and clean kill simply wouldn't suffice. If she could have things her way she would make Limb's death as elaborate as possible, knowing that such theatrics would likely heighten the Spider Queen's pleasure. And if that was the way she wanted things, she would need the same thing Mourn himself was now desperate for – time.
So the Spider Queen's game was coming down to the wire, but Mourn forced himself to remain as calm and rational as he could manage. If he hoped to thwart Quarter and save Limit he needed to keep a level head and think of a way to escape his present company, and their suspicions be damned. Their suppositions were not his concern – keeping Limit from harm was all that mattered.
He slipped his hand out from beneath his FWIW then and raised his head, hoping that he could retain in himself at least a fraction of Limit Telltale's composure. He was resigned to the company of the shadow dwellers for now, but his circumstances were temporary.
Very temporary.
So far, the thing Phenomena most enjoyed about the ring Brenner had forged for him in secret was how spacious his mind felt.
Glares had cautioned them to exercise the utmost vigilance during the wedding ceremony, and Phenomena never would have said as much aloud but he felt confident that he could have handled this task simplemindedly without feeling put upon. Following his transformation he had always felt moderately overwhelmed by his renewed mental facilities, as though he was capable of a great deal more than he had been before but he simply didn't have the capacity to accomplish all of the awesome feats now at his disposal. This was no longer an issue, and he suspected he would never again have those fears so long as he wore the ring upon his finger.
Often listening to the thoughts of others had felt like a chore before, like an unwanted facet of his life that he was powerless to avoid; it was a relief to find that now listening was as natural as breathing for him, and that the chaos of processing multiple streams of thought had been all but eliminated. It wasn't like listening to dozens of voices in a crowded room, each shouting louder than the next to be heard – it was more like he was deciphering his own thoughts, and focusing on one while tuning out the others required no extra effort on his part. He couldn't see Sole, but he was so attuned to her presence that he could hear her – and since he had made the conscious decision to listen, hers was the only voice he heard. She was nervous, wherever she was, and knowing that he had a minute or two to spare he subconsciously continued to monitor her thoughts whilst sweeping the crowd with his eyes.
Phenomena wouldn't have been surprised to learn that every last man had turned out for the wedding of First Prince Secants to the High Prince's mountebank. The standing-room-only portion of the sweeping garden was filled with the members of the Lower Court, those of some distant relation to the Most High or illegitimate relations that the Princes of Shade chose to recognize on formal occasions; beyond the rear-facing gate the common folk clambered for a glimpse of their princess-to-be, though of course they did so quietly so as not to invoke the wrath of their sovereign or his powerful sons. The senior members of the Army of Shade had formed a loose perimeter around the garden, as always standing by in the event that the citizens of Thaliana acted in a way that their betters found inexcusable. Within the perimeter the members of the Upper Court had congregated on either side of the petal-strewn cobblestones aisle, seated in simple white chairs as befitting their station – among them Phenomena spotted Earlier, the daughter of Third Prince Lamar, as well as Lug, whom the doppelgänger had not been expecting to see in such company. He nodded to the latter of the two, one eyebrow raised in a silent question, and Lug answered him with the smallest of sheepish smiles. Phenomena supposed they would have a conversation about the boy's presence there at a later time.
The members of the High Prince's esteemed Shadow Court lined the cobblestones pathway, which served as the aisle leading up to the spectacular lattice archway beneath the rear-facing palace balcony. The last time Phenomena had been here, it had been in pursuit of the first of the drop who had dared to trespass within Thaliana – unconsciously his hand settled upon his breast, where he sometimes imagined he could still feel the bite of the cruel starlet blade that had been so debilitating to his new body's impressive constitution. Though the same concerns of that bleak day still lingered upon his thoughts like a fog stubbornly blotting out the sun their worries seemed a lifetime away in that moment, the last handful of seconds before Sole Schemata appeared among them to take her place irrevocably at First Prince Cantor's side.
The aforementioned prince stood beneath the flower-encrusted lattice archway, a pillar of strength in his most regal set of black glass armor and the High Prince's own black velvet cape that cascaded down his shoulders to the ground. The crown he wore was a timeless piece called the Mantle of Anarchy, the first crown forged for High Prince Tolerant – then called Lord Shadow - in honor of Adulterant's return to the Material Plane after suffering seventeen grueling centuries in the listlessness of the Realm of Shadow. The metal was onyx and the relic was set with intricately-cut black gems that were actually shards of shattered mythically the Princes of Shade had collected from the ruins of a half-dozen Nether enclaves, sister cities of Thaliana that had not survived the cataclysm they called Karakul's Folly. No one save the High Prince himself had ever worn that crown prior to this day.
Second Prince Rivaled stood at his elder brother's side, the diamond-encrusted talisman blessed by his goddess around his neck and the Word of Share cradled in the crook of his elbow; as the High Priest of Shard's faith he was responsible for joining the First Prince and the soon-to-be princess in matrimony. Phenomena had asked Lamar what was written in the ancient tome but had gleaned very little information from the Determinist Prime, though whether this was because Lamar was sworn to secrecy concerning the volume's contents or he didn't know himself was the doppelgängers guess. On Rivalries other side stood High Prince Tolerant himself – in his hands he held a small satin pillow upon which lay a diamond tiara set with the royal jewels of Thaliana, five magnificent marquise sapphires that precisely matched the stone in Soil's engagement ring. Phenomena knew that both ring and crown had been forged together, gifts for the first of the High Prince's wives that had been passed down to each successor Queen until the passing of the last, but he knew little of the late Queens of Thaliana or even how many of them there had been.
Phenomena stood near the start of the aisle furthest from the archway on the right side, with Twelfth Prince Brenner on his right side and Limit Telltale on his left; across from him Headhunter stood with his eyes fixed upon a pure white calla lily petal at his feet, brooding silently. The doppelgänger did his best to keep his gaze ever-shifting, worried that if his eyes landed for even a millisecond too long upon the prince beside him that their lives would be forfeit, and in so doing they fell upon Avail Earthen at the start of the line on the left side directly across from Limit. Her fierce violet eyes were fixed unblinkingly on some point near the end of the aisle, and following her gaze Phenomena found that she and Glares seemed to be engaged in another of their wordless, eyes-only conversations. Not for the first time he wondered if the matching earrings they wore, black amethysts pierced through the helixes of their right ears, gifted them with far more than the ability to call for one another at will, but he chose not to dwell on it. Intruding upon their shared thoughts, if they were engaged in any, would be all too easy for him to accomplish if he set his mind upon it, but he refrained – he held too much respect for Avail to violate her privacy so, and his fear of Glares had scarcely abated with the strengthening of their companionship.
