Authoress's Note: After this week, I think we could all use a little distraction. Another interlude, dear readers, until we reach the Lone Islands.
"Oh, bless his heart, his dear little Majesty needn't mind about the White Lady—that's what we call her—being dead. . . . who ever heard of a witch that really died? You can always get them back."
Prince Caspian, Chapter Twelve
Chapter the Thirty-Ninth: Traitor's Blood
20 Fairdawn 2076
Two nights after the Jewel of Archenland docked in Redhaven, the Grand Vizier convened a meeting of his most trusted allies at his palace on the Isle of Morvarid. Some time after sunset, two palace guards escorted Juliana to a council chamber. She paused as they knocked on the door and announced her, taking a breath to steady herself. The young Archen girl had no idea what the Vizier's experiment in treason would entail. The emerald around her neck glinted in the hallway's dim lamplight.
Presently, the doors swung open, and she stepped over the threshold. The council chamber was no better lit than the hallway, and oily smoke from the fire at the room's center wafted up through an intricate grating in the ceiling. Cloaked figures shrank in the shadows, intent on shrouding their identities from their companions. No servants attended them.
The Grand Vizier beckoned her to join him at the center of the room, beside the circular brazier and its flaming coals. Once she did so, the second-most powerful Calormene official began to speak in low, dramatic tones.
"My noble friends, we gather here on this most auspicious of days to conduct an experiment—an experiment that will, if successful, endow us with unstoppable power."
He paused deliberately.
"As you know, oh my esteemed guests, Legend tells of a Great Power that in ancient times held sway over the Barbarian North. This mighty Witch commanded the very power of Tash Himself. Her enemies turned to stone before her, and even the seasons bowed to her will."
"You speak, o my most excellent host, of bedtime tales. If such a Power ever existed, it is long dead," one of the guests spoke in measured tones. But the Grand Vizier merely smiled—a ruthless smile, Juliana marked—and turned towards another part of the room.
A woman's throaty chuckle answered the unnamed tarkaan. "Oh, my lord needn't worry about that," the woman stood and pushed back her hood. Though elderly, the woman stood straight and tall. Juliana found herself transfixed in the woman's pale, piercing gaze as she approached the opposite side of the fire. "Have you ever heard of Witch who really died?"
A shudder ran up Juliana's spine. She began to regret agreeing to participate in the Grand Vizier's experiment.
"Well spoken, most clever of sorceresses," the Grand Vizier bowed. As he straightened, he extended his hand to Juliana.
"I present to you the Archen Traitoress!" He held Juliana's hand high. The young woman blushed in embarrassment but held her head high with resolve.
The sorceress's eyes glittered greedily, and she took a cut glass bottle from the bag on her belt. Its contents gleamed with a pale, unworldly light. She removed the glass stopper. As she poured the contents into her hand, they glittered and tinkled like pieces of glass.
"Shards from the White Lady's broken wand," the sorceress spoke dramatically. "Each more precious than a thousand diamonds." She threw the handful of shards upon the fire, which sparked and spluttered as the woman chanted in low tones. After a moment, the flames glowed a wintery blue.
"By the laws of the Deep Magic," she continued, walking a circle around the fire, "the blood of a traitor belongs to the White Lady. It calls to her from beyond the grave."
"Time to play your part in this experiment, my lady," the Grand Vizier spoke, grasping her hand and drawing a curved knife from his belt. "Do not fear—remember all that your Princess did to you."
These words filled the young woman with rage, and Juliana met his gaze with vengeance. "Not my princess. Proceed."
The knife's edge drew a trickle of blood, but the Archen exile did not flinch. The sorceress took her hand from the Grand Vizier and held it so the blood dripped into the blue fire. The flames continued to glow with an eerie gleam but were otherwise unchanged.
Then, after a moment, Juliana began to feel warmth crawling up her arm. The warmth soon turned to a searing pain, and she dropped to her knees. She tried to cry out, but her breath strangled in her throat.
"What have you done?" The young exile managed to gasp.
"Calormene green viper venom kills quickly, lady," the Grand Vizier spoke quietly but without remorse. Behind him, the sorceress chuckled, eyes full of anticipation.
Juliana crumpled at their feet, the blue flames dancing before her eyes until she knew no more.
"Traitor's blood." A woman's cold voice slithered through the darkness, curious and hungry.
"Who are you?" Juliana asked the darkness.
"One who can help you," the voice answered.
"Who can help me now?"
The voice laughed, and Juliana's mind began to see the ghostly countenance of a regal woman—beautiful, severe, and as cold and hard as ice.
"You are a traitor, and your blood belongs to me. Not even a viper's poison can resist my power."
The penetrating cold grew deeper, the light dimmer.
"Join with me, my dear. Together, we can rule the world," her voice slithered in the darkness. "Together, we can take vengeance—and so much more."
Juliana contemplated the Queen's offer. It did not take her long.
"Let it be so."
In the Grand Vizier's council chamber, Juliana's breathing eased as the eerie gleam crept from the fire and down the edge of the brazier. It paled as it came to rest on Juliana. It gradually disappeared, mingling with the snake venom in the young woman's veins, until only the emerald around her neck glowed with a poisonous green light.