David Farland - Lords of the Seventh Swarm

“Then I will, tonight,” Felph pronounced. “And you shall be there to watch.”

So that evening, Lord Felph finally drank the Waters of Strength. He’d wasted most of it, trying to analyze the stuff. He’d found that though it was clear like water, it contained strange amino acids in numbers far too large and in sequences far too complex to be adequately catalogued. Beyond that, he found mixtures of suspended elements, along with nano devices for assembling them into something which he just couldn’t quite grasp.

So it was that he gathered his friends and family in one of the lower plazas of the palace late in the evening. Brightstar shone like a brilliant moon, upon the circle of palms.

Felph had everyone get back, then he unstopped a small flask, and touched only a single crystalline drop to his lips. Hera saw it fall in the night, like a gem, into Felph’s mouth.

Then she watched in fascination and horror as Felph underwent his transformation.

It happened precisely as Orick had described: the purple glowing eyes, the manic exclamations from Felph describing how he felt tremendous power, the dark-winged beast that struggled to emerge from Felph’s mouth, tear free forever.

Then the emerald birds of light appeared, wheeling under the stars, like a whirling, flashing tornado.

They came not in ones or twos, but in dozens and hundreds, until the heavens filled with them.

Then as one they stooped to slaughter the winged beast that was Lord Felph.

He wriggled like a bat, flying through the heavens, seeking escape. Unlike Zeus, he did not try to take shelter in his body once again. Instead, he darted and veered.

But there was no escape. The birds of light caught him, tore into him, by the dozens, fighting for the honor to kill the beast. And high above the tiny group, Felph exploded into a ball of purple light that hung like a glowing cloud for several minutes.

Hera thought it was as pretty as any firework she’d ever seen.

Hours later, a new Lord Felph emerged from the revivification chamber, bearing the recorded memory of how the Qualeewooh ancestors had judged him, unworthy.

This newly born Felph seemed a much more subdued, more thoughtful man.

It was a scant five days later that Maggie gave birth to Gallen’s son, a whopping large child with eyes of a darkest blue and dark hair with a tinge of red.

Gallen wanted to call him after his own father, but Maggie insisted on calling the babe Orick, and Gallen felt that it, too, was a fitting name for the boy.

If it seems that peace came easily to Gallen and his friends after the dronon, know that it did not come easily to all.

For Tallea loved Orick as a woman loves her husband, but Orick still felt torn by the issue.

Two days after Maggie gave birth, as Tallea pored over the Scriptures at Maggie’s bedside while Maggie lay propped on some pillows suckling her son, Tallea mentioned her problem to Maggie.

“Orick’s a fine bear,” Maggie said, “and certainly he’ll never find another she-bear like you. Everyone wants you two to marry, and I think you should. It only makes sense.”

“But Orick won’t marry me until he feels God has freed him from the vow of chastity he took in his heart,” Tallea said.

“You need a miracle,” Maggie said, then Maggie got the strangest faraway look in her eye.

“What are you thinking?” Tallea asked.

“I think… Tallea, may I borrow your Scriptures for a day or two?”

“Yes…” Tallea said, unsure.

She did not see the Bible again for three days. It was a busy time, as they packed their things and prepared to leave Ruin. Gallen and Maggie wanted to return to Tremonthin, to build a home in a glen they’d seen in the mountains east of Battic.

In truth, the days were not busy so much from packing. Most of the time was spent saying goodbyes, for by that time, Orick knew everyone on planet, and all were sad to see him depart.

Tallea found that as for her, she’d become most closely attached to Hera and Athena. After Tallea had returned from the tangle, she and Orick had reached the killing field only moments after the Qualeewoohs faced the Swarm Lords in their deadly battle.

The dronon were still on planet, trying to make sense of the Qualeewoohs’ orders. Felph was dead, and his AI didn’t know yet to revive him.

Hera and Athena had been forced to take charge. They’d taken the first cell cultures from Gallen’s and Maggie’s bodies. They’d freed Thomas from his Guide. They’d acted as liaisons between the Qualeewoohs and the dronons, and revivified their own father to help give some direction.

If it had not been for Hera and Athena, everything would have fallen apart. Tallea imagined that literally, the fragile accord that was forged between the three species would have foundered.

Felph had created his daughters to be leaders and counselors, and they fulfilled their role admirably.

In those few brief days, Tallea had grown to depend on the young women, and upon Thomas and Orick.

So she found it difficult to say goodbye to these people. Tallea moped about the palace, in company with Hera and Athena, and none of them broached the subject of departure until the last few hours after the ship was fueled and packed.

Lord Felph had a formal luncheon for his guests, during which he gave each of them a few small gifts to show his gratitude. To Gallen and Maggie, he gave seeds from his gardens and orchards, along with a small vial filled with water. “The Waters of Strength,” he told Gallen. “The last few precious drops, in case the need is ever great, and you dare risk drinking them.”

Tallea thought the gift inappropriate, considering what she’d seen happen when mere humans drank from those waters. She didn’t think it was safe for humans. But Orick had a theory. He firmly believed that the effects of the water varied not by species, but by individual.

If that were the case, then Gallen might drink safely. If he dared risk it.

To Thomas he gave a selection of several fine new instruments.

Beyond those few gifts, to Orick and Tallea he gave some exotic fruits for their journey and copies of ancient philosophical manuscripts that he felt Orick might find entertaining-the writings of Buddha and Mohammed.

And when he had given these things, Felph said, “And I have one final gift for those who have been my guests.”

He turned to Hera. “To Hera and Athena, I bequeath my love, and my best wishes for a long and fruitful life.”

“What … do you mean by that?” Hera asked.

“I’ve already spoken to Gallen and Maggie,” Felph answered. “Their starship is small, but they can easily carry you-anywhere you want to go. Both they and I feel you should depart with them. I made you to fill large roles in the universe. This planet is too small to hold you.” With that, he leaned across the table and presented each of the young women with a credit chip. “I know what you want from life, Hera. I’d give it to you if I could, but I can’t. Out there, you’ll find what you need-yourself, a man to love you. But I want you two to have an inheritance: each of you will receive one-third of all that I have. Believe me, it is far more than you will ever need.”

Hera took the chip, and stood, breaking into huge sobs.

Felph slipped close to her, caressed her cheek with one finger. “I hope that sometimes you will think kindly of me. I promise that if you ever come to visit, you will find no monsters guarding the premises. And, hopefully, you will find no monsters within.”

Hera hugged him then, and held him for a long time as she wept.

Tallea wept openly at her friends’ good fortune, and for herself, for it meant that she would be able to spend some few more days with Hera and Athena. And she wondered at the change in Felph, wondered if perhaps Orick’s preaching wasn’t having its effect even on that cynical old crust of hardbread.