The Queen’s Clade
There was no news. What rumours spread were half-hearted and short-lived. Even Aggie, typically generous in her encouragement of the latter, seemed to find the few ideas still circulating on the matter unseemly. A slaying was, as Ianthe had proclaimed, a terrible thing.
The mourning began three days later. The body where Selene had resided was laid outside on a bed of shale and carrion flowers. Three dead beasts were placed beside her: a viper for solitude, a rat for fear and a starling as a symbol of ill fortune, all to rot away before the body. Xos stood guard for the first day to mark her companionship with Selene, thereafter the task of keeping the crows at bay fell to a team of sleepers who themselves looked not far from death. It occurred to me as I passed them in the coming days that they had perhaps been chosen for this task not just for the symbolism of their pallor, but because they had likely lived long enough to have done this task before and know what was required. Aggie told me that once the Queen declared the mourning to be over, the body, its bed and its symbols would be wrapped together and carried beyond the clade by a member of the royal family, who would keep the secret of its final resting place even from the Queen.
Life continued as it had before, almost. But in my private thoughts, something had changed. My doubts, those vague yet persisting impressions of wrongness that I couldn’t have articulated if I’d dared, were becoming something else, something more concrete, something more palatable perhaps: I had questions.
Once I had resolved to think about these with Aggie however, I still felt the need for caution; a right time would come soon enough and until it did, I would have to be patient. The coming days would be busy, leaving little time for fun or leisure and certainly not for questions; several legions of the freed were being mobilised, each requiring members of the royal family or elder metics to command them, and this left other important tasks to be delegated.
Aggie and I were tasked to the factory. We had never seen glass work done before so were both excited by our new appointment, although a little disappointed also. I had quietly hoped this might be my chance to work at the refinery; Aggie lamented that there would be no sleepers for her to tyrannise, for none were permitted within the factory walls.
We were assigned to assist Sophosia. She was not one of the royal family but was old enough to be accorded a similar degree of respect. Her long since awoken body had a noble scent, but she was at the same time most industrious and vital. The hot, noisy factory mirrored her energy: everything was in a constant state of motion. Sophosia could not pause in her work to instruct us, so instead we were tasked with walking in her shadow, learning which responsibilities would become ours and seeing how the work was done. Seeing a lamper for the first time sent a thrill through my mind: a mixture of wonder and horror. Only its legs had been removed, but it could not be thought that the rest of its body was intact exactly. Chimera was the word Sophosia used. Awoken body and machine made one. The bellows were embedded in its chest, directing air through its blackened lips. The tips of its fingers and the palms of its hands were black too, but not the black of burned flesh.
‘It is an alloy,’ Sophosia explained. ‘Other parts of the body are similarly reinforced, but you can see it more clearly in the hands. The discolouration comes from the work.’
‘But its mind… is it still one of the freed?’ She shot a curious look in my direction, a little startled at my question.
‘It was never one of the freed, but you could think of it as a variant of that type. The factory hive is enclosed. Each lamper communicates to the extent that it is part of the greater machine, but no further. Once you learn to control them you will understand better.’
Sophposia continued about her work, occasionally providing us with explanation or instruction. We learned that in the following days I would be stationed at the crucible, the hottest of the factory’s three furnaces, while Aggie would work at the final furnace where the glass was gradually cooled. The middle furnace, where some of the most delicate and ritualistic work was done, would remain under the control of Sophosia. Though she hid it well, I could tell that Aggie’s excitement was quickly dissipating. Mine most certainly was not.
I had always been attracted to the qualities of glass. Whenever we transported nectar, I would gaze at the thick carboys and the rich, coppery fluid shifting lazily inside, marvelling at how the light, when it struck in just the right way, would for one moment illuminate the entire glass cocoon before being absorbed greedily by its contents. Having the chance now to see these containers take shape, to be born out of molten glass, the aroma of which was at once acrid and sweet, filled my mind with joy.
But my greatest pleasure of the day came as we watched Sophosia inspect and evaluate completed work. Here were the carboys I admired, and could now see in their empty state for the first time, and the phials we drank from each day in our chambers, but also elegant carafes and exquisite long-stemmed, narrow goblets used by the royal family; deep yet delicate bowls and wide ceremonial saucers which I had seen before only from a distance; and the beakers, rods and dishes which I now recognised as some of the equipment from the refinery which I had learned about from Iris. And all of it gleamed and sparkled in the glowing reds and purest whites of the factory, even those items which Sophosia now discarded for faults that were beyond my ability to see.
‘So boring,’ Aggie thought as soon as we were alone that night in our nook. ‘And those lampers? Ughh! Someone should put them out of their misery. Someone should put me out of my misery. Will you do it Praxie, please? Oh, just look at you and your pleased little face. You’re going to love it there, aren’t you? You know I love you Prax, but sometimes I’m amazed that two minds could even be so different.’
I held Aggie’s hands and brought to mind an image to share of my happiness when we were first paired together. She smiled, then made faces at me, then traced her fingers along my temples before we settled down to rest. And in that moment I knew it. Those questions that I had put from my mind for now, they were not for Aggie, if indeed they were for anyone. Perhaps I needed to learn to be more like my companion, to cast aside my doubts, to live the life we shared without distraction. Perhaps, or then again perhaps not.
I would not see the factory again. Events took a different turn. The following morning I was called again to the Queen’s chamber. Ianthe was there, and Iris too, but not the Queen. I looked to Ianthe, but it was Iris who thought first.’
‘Do you honour the Queen, Eupraxia?’
‘I do,’ I answered, as form dictated.
‘And do you know yourself?’ I hesitated. My answer when it came was not the traditional reply, but it was an honest one.
‘I think so, yes.’ As I thought this, I was suddenly aware of Ianthe’s mind observing me closely, but she remained silent as Iris continued to address me. Iris too diverted from tradition at this point by answering the third question herself.
‘You have taken your place well, Eupraxia. But now that place is to change. I must go beyond the clade to scout and I have chosen you for my companion.’ I felt a jolt of happiness at these words, but instinctively I hid it. I had the sense that something strange was unfolding here, something I didn’t understand, something a little dangerous even. A moment of silence passed before Iris thought again. ‘Ianthe?’
‘Are you certain you will not take a team with you, Iris? For protection?’
‘Quite certain. Perhaps you forget that…’ Iris’s thoughts began to trail off and I had another odd sensation: a sort of heaviness. I began to realise then that their conversation was continuing but that it was somehow being withheld from me, being suppressed. Then the heaviness lifted and it was Ianthe who was thinking.
‘Then I wish you good fortune and a safe return.’ She then motioned for me to leave the chamber and Iris appeared behind me just a moment later.
‘We have preparations to make Eupraxia. Fetch a change of clothes and a satchel from your chamber then meet me in the refinery. We shall leave early tomorrow morning. You may rest in your nook tonight, but your satchel once prepared shall remain with me.’
I felt giddy. I would be with Iris again. I would learn from her again. I would see the refinery, but then I was to leave the clade. I could not quite comprehend all of this. It was too much, too many ideas at once. My mind buzzed as I walked to my chamber, feeling not quite in control of my own movements, propelled like one of the freed. I found a satchel of good leather, then took a plain gown from my nook and folded it neatly inside. I looked down at the one I was wearing, my favourite that I had embroidered with suns and moons along the collar, the one that I had chosen for what was to be my second day in the factory. Would this do? What would a scout wear? What did a scout even do? Not worry about which clothes they wore, surely? And again I was moving. Not in fact involuntarily but absent-mindedly, distracted by my thoughts.
I was outside now, approaching the farm. I knew that the refinery lay on the far side, but I was suddenly unsure of how I was to get there. As I approached the heavy timber gate in the smooth, high wall, I recognised Melita, a young metic I knew by sight and name but whose mind was not familiar to me. She signalled for me as I came closer and let me know that she was to escort me on Iris’s instructions. The gate opened and we went through.
The pens here were different to those which housed the sleepers that served the clade. They were much smaller, each holding a single specimen. They were also unlit, so I could only half-see the faces of those creatures curious enough to come up to the grille as I passed. I felt a shudder of that same fear that sleepers used to provoke in me. Seeing them like this was very different to supervising a trained team. These ones were rougher, cruder. There was a fenced yard ahead and two dozen or so sleepers were being exercised by metics whose attitude and demeanour I think Aggie would have approved of. Away to the side was a large windowless building which Melita informed me was the draining shed. I was grateful that it was quiet at this hour; I felt on edge as it was without having to hear those sounds from this close.
Ahead was a series of smaller buildings, which unlike the shed were low and many-windowed. Melita explained that these housed the refinery, and she led me to a door which opened with a heavy mechanical clunk as we approached. Iris greeted us and ushered me inside. I supposed Melita returned to the farm, but I didn’t see. I only saw the glass. There was so much of it that I couldn’t help but recall the factory, but this was an entirely different place. Iris thought nothing directly but gave me her implicit assent to explore. Where the factory had been hot and busy, the refinery was cool and still. In place of the sticky, cloying aroma there was a sterile neutrality punctuated only by Iris’s nobility. The windows were curious; the glass looked thick and multi-layered perhaps, and while it admitted the sun’s light it also appeared to reflect its heat. It gave me the impression of being inside a carboy. The equipment was everywhere. It shone and sparkled but from the light of the sun not the glow of furnaces. I saw many of the items that I had watched Sophosia inspect the day before, but much of it was now filled with nectar, thin streams of which followed mazy paths along workbenches before gathering in large reservoirs and dripping like plump, russet raindrops into rows of empty phials. I stared at Iris and my meaning was clear: show me, teach me.
‘If we only had time, Eupraxia. But one day perhaps. If we return.’ She must have seen the effect the word if had on me but she offered no reassurance. Instead she led me quickly through the refinery from one building to the next, along connecting corridors made entirely of the same thick glass used in the windows. We soon reached a door not unlike the one I had first passed through. It was thick, heavy and ungiving, but to Iris’s touch it swung smoothly open with a sound like distant thunder. The room behind was smaller than any we had passed through and darker, the windows having a blueish tint. Each wall was lined with shelves full of familiar looking phials. In the middle of the room on an otherwise empty table were a number of much smaller phials, each containing tiny quantities of what looked like nectar but of a darker hue. Iris took my satchel from me, examined it briefly, then proceeded to place four of these phials inside.
‘You must carry these out tomorrow. I cannot. Your satchel will stay here for now and I will bring it to you when I collect you from your chamber. Do not think about this with anyone but me.’ She offered no explanation and led me swiftly from the room and back the way we had come. Melita, I discovered, was waiting for me outside the main door, and she escorted me out in silence.
The sun had set by the time I made it back to my chamber. I was weary and ready to rest, but my mind was still jumping in a dozen different directions at once. All of these thoughts evaporated though when I went to my nook and saw my companion waiting for me. Aggie. I hadn’t even thought about Aggie. When I had been called away that morning I assumed I would join her shortly in the factory, but that seemed like days ago now. I could see that she knew. She smiled at me, but with just one corner of her mouth. Her hands were busy twisting threads together.
‘It’s Xos,’ she thought. ‘They’re pairing me with Xos. Just for now though. We’ll both get new metics next year when their training’s done. What am I going to do Prax?’
‘Oh Aggie. I mean she’s very serious but…’ she cut me off.
‘Not about Xos. I don’t care about Xos. What am I going to do without you?’ Guilt hit me in waves. How had I not thought about leaving Aggie? So much about what had happened today was unclear, yet I knew with certainty that I wanted to go, that I wanted to be with Iris again. But I had not once considered that this meant leaving my Aggie behind. I didn’t know what to think.
‘Oh come here,’ she thought, and I sat next to her with my head on her shoulder, watching her hands work, the threads becoming a bracelet. ‘I’m making this for myself just so you know, but I shall let you wear it first, until you come back to me.’
I don’t even remember lying down. I went to my rest right there, head on her shoulder, eyes on her hands, all other thoughts drifting away.