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“My queen,” Ryton said. “I was mistaken. My body acted before my mind could catch up.”

“A warrior’s mistake.” Grystark looked up warily. “Punish me as you see fit. Have mercy on your true servant, Ryton.”

The queen huffed and turned away. “You don’t matter. What matters is this new truth the Watcher has brought us.”

The Watcher stood over her bowl again, her head bobbing like she could see movement. “She did this without the elves to see her,” the Watcher whispered.

“Interesting,” the queen spat. “So Mattin may live another day. But how? How did this human live through our flood? And how did she discover how to wake her latent powers? Did the elves instruct her at all? Do you see anything that points to such an event?”

“No.” The Watcher’s head swiveled like it might come off.

Ryton and Grystark stood. Ryton’s heart hammered his ribs. He’d almost struck the queen. If he hadn’t bitten off that spell…

The army would have been leaderless right before their final war. They would have to wait for another Queen to rise. Their magic would weaken, for hers strengthened all of the sea folk’s power. They were linked through the water. And he nearly ruined everything for which they’d fought.

Ryton could tell Grystark was bursting to say something to him, but he knew he’d barely escaped one situation with the queen. He was wise enough to hold his tongue for now.

“The dragons!” The Watcher whirled and lifted her chin to the queen. “The Lapis aided the Earth Queen.”

“The dragons? They hated humans.”

The Watcher went back to her bowl and began humming a tune that was disturbingly similar to the one Ryton had heard from the window on his way here.

She twisted her head toward him like she could read his thoughts, then she smiled, a quick lift of one side of her aged lips.

Before he could question her, she turned away and fell quiet.

Had the grin and her humming only been products of his ravaged nerves?

“They most likely hate the idea of drowning to death more than they hate humans,” Grystark said.

Ryton began to cover for him and his attitude, but it seemed the queen’s entire focus appeared to be on understanding this catastrophe, which was wise. If this was indeed what the Watcher thought it was, the war was about to take a sharp turn in the wrong direction.

“Forgive me, Watcher, but could you perhaps be wrong?” Ryton eyed the bowl as if he might be able to see what she did. But there were no images, no sounds, nothing.

“I see what is, what was, what will be.”

Ryton rubbed the back of his neck. “What exactly will we be dealing with if this human worms her way through the power ritual’s steps? How many steps are there anyway? Who is our expert on this subject?”

The queen was swimming back and forth and back again, behind the Watcher.

Everyone stepped away to give her space.

She stopped, crossed her arms over her pearl and salt tulip tunic.

“The Jades would never consider the possibility that after all this time an Earth Queen of any repute could rise. But the Lapis are different. Well, even if this human does have power, who is to say how strong she will be? No one knows. Unless you see more, Watcher? Do you see her rising against us in a way that does more than inconvenience me?”

“I only see the woman. I see her washing in the Blackwater, in the Forest of Illumahrah.” The Watcher glanced at Ryton and he nodded politely, not sure why she was looking at him. “There is a shadow in her life,” the Watcher added, “but I cannot see it clearly. I do not know what it means.”

“So this Earth Queen might not even be a threat?” Venu finally spoke up, violet eyes hopeful in the dim light.

Astraea shrugged. “She still must find her familiar, speak the spell at the place of her birth, and visit the Sacred Oak before she’ll be capable of doing much of anything. This human only completed the first step. By the time she begins the next, she will be dead, along with the rest of them.”

“Her familiar?” Ryton hadn’t heard much about human power rituals.

Humans had guarded their ceremonies and kept them secret, holy. And in the passage of time, during their diminishing strength, those secrets had become mostly forgotten. Only a few living today knew of them. Ryton had heard Grystark mention them once.

“She’ll need to follow her magic to a simplebeast who will aid her in her journey,” the queen said, looking distracted. “That is the next step after washing in the Blackwater.”

“Will the elves and dragons help her find this familiar?”

“I doubt they even know she needs to do this. She most likely doesn’t know. How would she? She was probably hiding in some rotten cave when we finished off her kynd. She is most likely ignorant of her own capabilities.”

“But she made her way to the elves and their Source spring.” Grystark kept his voice respectful.

“She did.” Astraea eyed Grystark. Her gaze held a warning.

“But King Mattin promised me. She must have acted without his knowledge. He’ll find out about this and strike her down.

” The queen’s face broke into a wide grin.

She tapped Grystark on the chest. “Indeed. I don’t think we have much to worry about.

But to be sure, we will send our spy to our contact within the ranks of the elves.

We will find out everything and we will be ready if this Earth Queen does indeed prove to be worth our time. ”

“Our inside contact is alive still?” Ryton knew of the gray-haired elf who had turned on his own kynd in exchange for a rare sea tuber that gave elves an exhilarating high. The elf had an illness that would take him before Astraea flooded the land so the elf saw no problem with the deal.

“I believe so. We shall see.”

The queen began to throw orders. Ryton was to organize the meeting with the spy and gather any further intel possible.

Grystark and Venu would develop additional training drills to combat an Earth Queen’s ability to shape earth, call up creatures of leaf and stone, and all manner of horrors.

Astraea sent the Watcher away with a guard holding the great bowl.

The queen commanded her to continue Watching with only a few hours of rest at night.

Everyone swam away to their duties, leaving Ryton alone with the queen. He paused at her door, drumming fingers on the archway. He had to ask about the strategy she had suggested, the one where Grystark’s units took the brunt of the dragonfire in a reckless, full front attack.

“I know what you’re going to ask me, Ryton,” the queen purred from across the room.

She turned her back to him, her skin showing, smooth between the two flaps of her elaborately designed tunic.

“Don’t bother. I’ll either use that strategy, or I won’t.

You know we mustn’t put our hearts in the way of a win.

You know better than to think for even one moment that I care whether Grystark lives or dies.

I don’t want him wasted though. He is valuable. At least take comfort in that.”

Grystark was valuable. She could never understand exactly how valuable he was to Ryton. Astraea knew nothing of friendship. Ryton’s heart pinched and for a fleeting moment he frowned, pitying her.

“Yes, my queen.”