The Past Is Prologue: Chapter 38
Requiem
A la estimadísima arzobispa Francisca de Avalor, prelate, do I, don Francisco Flores, send my most humble greetings and an urgent plea for your assistance. I write to you not as a member of the Grand Council nor as a member of la familia real, but as a spiritual son to his confessor, and as a grandfather in sorrow. Vuestra merced, by now you will have heard that Chancellor Esteban Ramírez Flores has fled the Palace in disgrace after being sentenced to perpetual imprisonment on Soledad Island for his unfortunate role in the murder of King Raúl Castillo and Queen Lucía Flores de Castillo, and his alliance with the usurper Shuriki.
While I neither condone nor understand my grandson's actions, it is important to remember that he was only 17 years old at the time. That was 43 years ago. Surely, some grace can be found for him, especially considering all the good he has done since. My granddaughter would not now be alive to condemn him if he had not saved her life. And was it not you, your Excellency, who once told me that were it not for Esteban, Shuriki would have suppressed the Church of Avalor?
-From a secret letter to Archbishop Francisca of Avalor from Don Francisco Flores, Grand Counselor to Crown Princess Elena Castillo Flores, father to Queen Lucía Flores de Castillo, and grandfather to Crown Princess Elena and Chancellor Esteban Ramírez Flores. Released from church archives for the purposes of this study. A People's History of the Reign of Queen Shuriki, compiled by professor Catalina de Torres
Fiero looked to be having the time of his life, playing the affable host to his prisoners. Mateo glared impotently, as immobile as everyone else in the hall, including, oddly enough, Duke Cristóbal's own supporters. When whatever that cascade spell was had been cast, the entire room had been imprisoned in what very much felt like bilicu, although the wizard had never heard of a version that could affect more than one person at a time. When Fiero's allies had objected, the malvago had impatiently told them he would sort them out later. When they'd persisted he'd magically silenced everyone – except for Mateo. Why?
On the plus side, Gabe had somehow managed to get Elena into hiding before Fiero had captured them all. So at least she was relatively safe. As was Mateo's mother, who was on some sort of secret mission. And Olivia and Isa, who were outside cleaning up that teenage inventor's mess, whatever his name was. And Esteban had teleported away on some errand.
But Mateo was captured and without his tamborita. So were Victor and Carla. And Gabe and Naomi. Along with Armando, Marlena, Gabe's parents and everyone else.
So why wasn't Fiero acting? He could destroy them all in a single strike of his tamborita if he wished. What was taking him so long? And why had he not silenced Mateo?
Mateo did not understand Fiero at all. He'd never even truly had a conversation with the man, except when Fiero was trying to kill him. Odd considering that the malvago was Mateo's only real enemy. Mateo had certainly fought others before, but they were enemies of Avalor and the royal wizard was just one of the realm's protectors. But Fiero's animosity was undeniably directed at him.
"What are you getting out of all this?" Mateo blurted out.
"Finally," the malvago muttered, turning to face the young man. "Found your tongue, have you?"
"Look, your fight is with me. Why don't you let everyone go and just turn me to stone...or...whatever.."
"Or...whatever," Fiero echoed mockingly. "Don't worry, my dear boy. You'll get your turn. But first I am going to destroy everyone in Alacazar's lineage – his brat of a daughter, her whelp," he lightly bopped Mateo on the nose with his tamborita, "every unworthy guard you had the temerity to teach the use of a tamborita, your apprentices – the buffoon," here he glanced at Victor, "that useless chit of his," he waved dismissively at Carla, who glared daggers at him, "and of course the little one. What was her name again? Oh, yes. Olivia." He spat the name.
To Mateo's horror, as if Fiero had summoned her, Olivia came running into the room. She held her tamborita tentatively as she tried to comprehend the scene before her. "Olivia, run!" Mateo screamed. Fiero shot him a triumphant glance and raised his own tamborita to strike her down. But then, mercy of mercies, perhaps for the first time in her apprenticeship, Olivia obeyed Mateo and ran.
"Hello, cousin," Elena said quietly as a dark figure tried to furtively enter the hidden room. The queen had made sure to be in a position with an excellent vantage point. Her sword was out of its sheath and held in a relaxed position. She stood in shadow.
The man scowled, then straightened up and flashed a mocking smile. "Prima! How long has it been?" He shook his head. "Too long. But of course you could have visited me any time you wished."
"Why would I?" Elena retorted. "You made your feelings for me abundantly clear when you locked me up in that tower so Shuriki could kill me." Slowly she began to move, never taking her eyes from her cousin – and enemy.
"That wasn't personal," he protested as he matched her movements. "It was politics!"
"Politics justified murder?" Dimly elena was aware that her spirit guide Zuzo had materialized in a corner, saying nothing. He was here to bear witness, not give advice. Noted.
"Of course it does. If it didn't, you would never have made peace with the blood-thirsty sirenas."
Elena and Cristóbal circled each other as they talked, swords at the ready, but neither made a move on the other –yet. The young queen sought in vain to catch a glimpse of her beloved cousin from childhood. There was not a trace of that boy left in the opponent that faced her. He also looked nothing like the man who had betrayed her four years ago. She couldn't understand it – he might have been imprisoned but it was a luxurious imprisonment. He had not been starved. This change in appearance was Cristóbal's choice.
"I made peace with the sirenas because it was the right thing to do," she responded evenly. "Forgiveness is the best path forward."
"Forgiveness," Cristóbal sneered. "You forgive my father's killers but not your own. I saw you strike down Shuriki, remember? But I suppose you did forgive some of your parents' killers. Esteban," he spat the name, "roams free while I was left to rot in my own duchy."
"Esteban chose to lay down his life for me. You never so much as said you were sorry."
"I have nothing to be sorry for," the former duke scoffed. "I kept Nueva Vista safe and Shuriki mollified when I was barely more than a child and you were safely tucked away in some amulet. I made Nueva Vista more prosperous than it had ever been – "
"Thanks to your collusion with traitors and profiting from the enslavement of the noblins –"
"Whom you freed, without a thought of what it would do to Avalor's economy. And you think you can be queen!"
"It was the right thing to do! Shuriki's enslavement of the noblins – "
"Was a brilliant use of unnatural gold-producing creatures. They're like sirenas, neither this nor that: noblins are sometimes humans, sometimes dogs, as sirenas and both human and fish. But at least noblins, magical abominations they might be, are useful for something. They can turn anything they touch into gold and don't even bother to do anything with it! And you just – let them go."
The cousins had been circling each other warily all this time. Elena felt such a profound wave of sadness for a moment she feared her emotion magic would overwhelm her. She wanted to argue with Cristóbal, to convince him that slavery was wrong, that nothing in the Everrealm, not even love or hate, was as powerful as forgiveness. Most of all she wanted to see the little boy in him that she had so loved, but not a trace of him was left. Cristóbal couldn't be reached. Or more to the point, he didn't want to be reached. Something in his life, either pain or privilege, had twisted him so badly that he refused to feel remorse. He would never be dissuaded from his destructive and cruel plans. And it was up to Elena to stop him.
The queen took a deep breath. She readied her sword and said evenly, "Cristóbal Castillo, you are guilty of treason against the Kingdom of Avalor. Will you surrender and throw yourself on the mercy of the Crown?"
The former Duke of Nueva Vista laughed derisively and readied his own attack.
At that moment, David, of all people, burst into the room.
David burst into the room, ready to confront the man responsible for the deaths of his parents and shipmates. Belatedly he realized that he was unarmed; he hadn't really thought this through.
"Who the blazes are you?" the evil duke snarled.
"You killed my parents!" the Norberg sailor began hotly.
"Who?" the Duke looked more puzzled than angry.
"Stay out of this, David!" the queen told him earnestly. "This isn't your fight."
"But he – "
"Cristóbal has hurt a lot of people, and it's my responsibility to see that he answers for it. Now stand down!"
David stood irresolute; he had such anger and hurt, but what did he, a fisherman, know about fighting or revenge anyway? He realized that making the Duke pay had never truly been his goal. The Duke didn't even remember David's parents. The young man had simply been trying to avoid his grief.
Moreover, Elena had commanded him to step down. On a ship, it was imperative to obey the captain without question. Queen Elena might not be his captain, but she was his queen, and he supposed that was close enough.
So the young fisherman slowly sat down on a pew. He would stay out of it – for now. But he would be ready if his queen called on him.
"Never fear, I'll track her down," Fiero said as he turned back to the captive royal wizard.
"She's done nothing to you," Mateo pleaded. "Leave her alone!"
"Her very existanceis an affront to me, as is yours, Mateo de Alva." Fiero leveled his tamborita at Mateo.
"I never did anything to you either," Mateo responded quietly. "I even gave you the Codex Maru."
"And you think that makes up for everything that was taken from me?" the malvago roared.
"What even was taken from you?" Mateo demanded. "Is this really worth all the destruction you cause? No one actually hurt you."
"Is that what your mother told you?" Fiero sneered. "It would be like her." Wait, Fiero had known his mom? "I was hurt – by my master, by King Raúl, and by your grandfather. I was the only reason Alacazar could even study magic in the first place." Fiero paced back and forth, lost in the past. "Alacazar was so pathetic – a poor little boy who was so desperate to learn magic that he hounded the royal wizard's apprentice, grateful for any scraps I might toss his way."
The malvago spun to face Mateo. "I came from a magical lineage. Alacazar came from nothing. He could never have found a teacher. It was I who convinced my master to take Alacazar as a second apprentice. He became like a little brother to me. If only he had remained grateful and stayed in his place. But your grandfather was a snake in hiding."
"That's not true!" Mateo protested.
"How would you know?" the malvago replied scornfully. "You never even met the man. He died before you were born."
The young wizard bit back a retort. That wasn't precisely true. He had met his grandfather, who'd sacrificed his own life to save his grandson from Zopilote. But it wasn't common knowledge that Alacazar had created a spell to turn himself into a book and thus unnaturally preserve his life, and it wouldn't do to let Fiero in on the secret.
Fiero took Mateo's silence for grudging agreement. "That's what I thought. Foolish boy to believe the tales his foolish mother told him."
"You keep complaining about my grandfather. But you never say what he actually did to you. I think you were just jealous that he was the better wizard," Mateo taunted.
"The better wizard?! I was the better wizard! The role of royal wizard had been promised to me," Fiero exploded. "Alacazar was just better at ingratiating himself with people of power, which he surely did behind my back. King Raúl humiliated me by announcing to the entire court that Alacazar and not I would be appointed royal wizard, because of his 'kindness.' As if that matters to be royal wizard," he scoffed. "No, that ungrateful whelp whispered aspersions against my character and convinced the king he should be wizard instead of me!"
"My grandfather is dead," Mateo responded quietly. "King Raúl is dead. There is no one left from that time to punish."
"Don't be so modest, dear boy. There's you, the upstart who gained his position not because of his qualifications but because of his family name. There are your apprentices." He turned malevolently to the Delgados.
"Leave them alone!" Mateo cried. "I'm the one you hate!"
Fiero looked at him quizzically. "I hate all of you. But this –" he said as he advanced on a fuming and silent Victor "-this is a favor. Surely Victor is as much a thorn in your side as he was in mine." He raised his tamborita and pointed it at Victor. "Farewell, not-my-friend. Aka-!"
"I'll take that!"
Esteban!
Elena's cousin had materialized behind Fiero and teleported the malvago's tamborita from his hand.
"You can't cast a spell without a tamborita," Esteban gloated. "Of course, everything you said about Victor is true, but I still can't allow you to harm him. It would make Mateo sad, and he is my friend."
Esteban shook the tamborita gingerly. "So how do I work this thing to free you? If Victor can use it, it can't be that hard – "
"Look out," Mateo shouted. While Esteban had been talking, Fiero drew a spare tamborita from his sleeve.
"Bilicou!" Esteban was as trapped as the rest of them. Fiero stalked over and snatched his tamborita back. "To think a poppinjay like you was gifted with the mystical powers of the Well of Takaína.
"Now where was I?"
As Elena battled Cristóbal, she saw a clear kill shot – and hesitated. Cristóbal took advantage and sliced her cheek with his sword. She cried out more from the shock that from pain. "Stay where you are, David," she called out without taking her eyes from her cousin. "I've got this."
"Do you?" the treacherous Duke smirked. "First blood is mine, prima."
She parried a sudden blow easily. It hadn't been the first opportunity she'd missed. Even though she knew it was her duty as queen, she did not want to kill Cristóbal.
A qualm he did not share. And while Elena was better with the blade, she was tiring fast. Words hadn't worked. How could she save her cousin and her kingdom?
As if sensing her thoughts – no, scratch that, Zuzo was her spirit guide, so sensing her thoughts, the fox chanul murmured, "You have magic, princesa."
Only Elena could hear him, and she made no outward acknowledgement. Of course, she could have used her emotion magic at any point, but she hadn't wanted to. She'd wanted this to be a fair fight.
"Surrender, cousin. Please!" Elena begged.
"Why? I'm winning," Cristóbal snarled as he lunged. She easily parried.
However, it wasn't sadness she chose to channel, but fury. Fury at Cristóbal's betrayal. Fury that he'd been working with Shuriki all along. Fury that he'd imprisoned not only Elena, but Esteban, their abuelos, and even little Isa so Shuriki could murder them all.
And fury for the hell through which he'd so recently put her people.
The queen merely looked at Cristóbal, and he slammed into a wall, his sword falling from nerveless fingers.
His eyes widened, and he whispered one word. "Bruja!"
"Farewell, cousin," and Elena stabbed him through the heart. She lowered his body gently to the floor.
"Your majesty!" David rushed towards her. He took out a handkerchief and pressed it to her cheek. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, David," she smiled, though she was far from it. "And I keep telling you, cousin, it's Elena."
"Elena." David didn't quite seem comfortable with it, but he got the word out. "I'm afraid this will leave a scar." Oh, on her face. The queen hadn't given her wound much thought. Then she noticed David was avoiding the sight of Cristóbal's body.
"Are you all right?" she asked gently.
"Of course. I wasn't the one fighting." He took in a deep breath. "I thought I'd feel different."
"How so?"
"Now that justice has been done. I thought I'd feel different."
"But you don't, do you?"
He shook his head. "I just feel hollow."
She grasped the hand that held the handkerchief to her face. "Revenge never brings us the comfort we think it will."
David looked down for a moment. He resembled abuelo so much Elena's heart ached. She desperately missed her grandfather. Then her cousin gathered himself and said, "We should probably get you to safety, right? Does this mean you won the war?"
The queen smiled. "More or less. There are a few more things that still need to be done. Will you do me a favor?"
"Anything, your Maj- uh, Elena."
"I need you to go out there and find a guard to bring back here. But be careful! Tell no one but a uniformed guard, Gabe, Naomi or Mateo about this." She hesitated, and for the first time in over two years regarding a matter of Avaloran national security, added, "Or Esteban."
It took longer than expected to convince David that Elena would be fine on her own until he came back with help. But eventually he left, promising to return as soon as possible.
Once he was gone, the queen removed the handkerchief from her face. The wound had stopped bleeding, but the once white handkerchief was ruined. She recognized the FF monogram, of course. David had worn a borrowed suit, so naturally it included her grandfather's handkerchief.
"Your abuelo is still looking out for you, princesa," Zuzo murmurred. Her chanul had continued to call her "princesa" even after the coronation, because, as he'd said, he liked the sound of it.
"Oh, Zuzo!" she cried, her heart so full of sorrow she thought she'd burst.
"It's all right," he said gently. "No one is around. You can let go now."
And so Elena relaxed the iron control she always kept on her emotion magic. She lifted Cristóbal's lifeless head and put it in her lap, whispering, "I am so sorry, primo." She knew she could never let anyone see her mourn a traitor, so this was her only chance. And as she wept over the body of her first favorite cousin, the room wept with her.
"Now where was I?" snarled Fiero. "Oh, yes. Ridding the Everrealm of Victor Delgado."
"You coward!" Mateo screamed. "Leave him alone! Face me in a duel, if you dare!"
"We've already dueled, boy," Fiero replied. "That's what this –" he indicated the captives with his tamborita – "is. You lost. And this is the consequence." He raised his tamborita.
"You're still weaker than my grandfather," Mateo said quickly. He had to distract the malvago. It was the only tactic he had left. "And everyone knows it." He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A frozen and gagged Naomi was nodding frantically. He was on the right track. He still didn't know if he could pull this off. Naomi was far better at vicious mockery than he was. Now if it were a punning contest...
He'd been silent for too long. "I bet they laughed."
"What?!" Fiero snapped.
"When they made my grandfather royal wizard. I bet King Raúl and your master and Abuelo had a big old laugh that you thought you could be royal wizard." There is no way this is going to work. Fiero would never fall for such blatant...
"How dare you?" Fiero roared. He spun around, cape swirling behind him. The malvago rounded on the royal wizard. "Do not presume to know anything about me, Mateo de Alva. I have allowed you to exist entirely too long. It's time to rectify my mistake."
He raised his tamborita. "Ak-"
"Anahún!" The clear voice of Olivia Madeline Herrera, journeywoman wizard, rang out. The bang of her tamborita had an odd ring to it, and then Mateo realized she'd struck it on a large book. The Compendium! Of course!
At the sound of the spell Fiero had turned to repel his attacker. But it was too late. He was sucked into the magical tome, with such a look of hatred and terror that it chilled Mateo's very soul. And Olivia had seen it all.
Olivia sunk to her knees. In a voice halfway between a laugh and a sob, she whispered, "Take that, evil vase."
Oh, Olivia.
She looked around the room, raised her drum wand, and chanted, "Zanamo," releasing everyone in the room from their bilicou imprisonment. They all feel to the ground.
They remained that way for a full minute until Victor picked himself off the floor, dusted himself off, and slowly drawled, "Can we all take a moment to appreciate that the great and mighty Fiero was defeated not once, not twice, but three times by a teenager?"
Everyone, including Mateo and Olivia, began laughing. It wasn't really that funny, but Mateo sensed how the laughter broke the tension.
As the others helped each other up, the royal wizard reached for the Comendium. Olivia slid it over, and Mateo studied the picture before him. Fiero had been magically transformed into a picture and would remain imprisoned in the book until Mateo decided to release him, which would be never. Olivia was looking rather pale. Mateo slowly closed the Compendium, and keeping a tight grip on the magical tome with hand, drew Olivia into an embrace with his other arm. She was trembling, but then so was he. He had come so close to seeing his apprentices killed, and being killed himself. They're all safe, he told himself. It's over.
Gabe and the guards were rounding up the last of Cristóbal's supporters, who weren't putting up much of a fight. Mateo figured they didn't need his help. His job was to guard the Compendium and look after Olivia. Pulling away slightly, he said, "One thing puzzles me. I'm wearing the only key to the workshop, and I know I locked it up before the wedding. So how did you get the Compendium out?"
Olivia looked a bit sheepish. She started twisting the sleeve of her grown-up journeywoman robe in a decidedly childish manner. "Well, last year I needed something from the lab, and you were busy in Avalor City so I didn't want to bother you, so I...kind of figured out a way to get in without the key. And without blowing up the door!" she hastened to add.
"But I put a magical lock on...!"
"Yeah, I kind of figured how to undo that too."
"You've been holding out on me, chica," Carla laughed. She'd come over to check on them.
Mateo sighed, and said to his journeywoman, "Tomorrow morning, you will show me exactly what you did, and I will be duly impressed with your cleverness. Then, when I come up with a new spell, you are going to promise me you will not crack it, and I will believe you, because I know I can trust you."
"Yes, Mateo," Olivia said, chastened. "I'm sorry."
"Hey, don't be sorry! You're the hero of the hour!" the wizard assured her. "While we're at it, you can fill me in on all the other discoveries you made and haven't, ah, had the time to tell me."
"It might take a while..."
"I'll clear my morning."
"It might take longer than that..."
"I'll clear my week, " he said drily.
"Ooh, I want to hear what Olivia's done," Carla broke in.
"No!" Mateo and Olivia said at once.
"You're no fun," she mock-pouted.
"And don't you forget it," Mateo wagged his finger at his ex (both girlfriend and apprentice, now.)
Carla suddenly pulled both Mateo and Olivia into an embrace. "Team Magic for the win!"
"Yeah!" Olivia shouted. Her natural enthusiasm and cheerfulness were reasserting themselves.
At that moment, Elena, flanked by Rico and David, entered the ballroom and announced that the would-be usurper Cristóbal had been defeated. What little fight was left in the insurgents vanished, and all were quickly bundled away.
Elena's voice was clear, reassuring, and triumphant, but Mateo noticed that the queen was injured on her face and that her dress was wet. Her Takaína-given emotion magic. But Elena would see to her people's well-being first before her own.
Still, the defeat of Cristóbal and Fiero was fantastic news.
The danger was over now. Wasn't it?
AN: A sotry cannot contain a song, of course. But if you would like one, imagine this: Elena singing to her deceased cousin Cristóbal. It begins as a bitter rendition of "Familia Forever," but turns into a reprise of "The Burden of the Queen."
Stay tuned for the penultimate chapter of The Past Is Prologue.