After some murmured consultation with a member of the Queen’s entourage, one of the people conducting the questioning said, "Thank you, Captain. That will be all for now," and the official in charge of the shields made some adjustment which opened a passage to the waiting area. It seemed that although the Queen had ordered their interrogation, she had no real interest in what the Kellian had to say.
Without any hint of surprise, Captain Faille bowed and left the dock. Remembering his little catalogue of her reactions, Rennyn suspected the man was probably rarely surprised by anything – when he did bother to speak his comments were always perceptive and on occasion exceedingly dry. She watched him covertly as she started down the stair, but Danress' whispered explanations provoked no change of expression. He simply sat down to watch.
"Rennyn Montjuste-Surclere, you are called to Question."
The official opened the shield for Rennyn to pass through, and she stepped up to the podium. It was a thick marble box, reaching as high as her chest, with a gap cut in one side for people to pass through. Interesting how just standing in it made her feel like a criminal.
Rennyn looked out at her audience and remembered she was tired. Politics did not amuse her. Touching the cold marble gingerly, she gauged the power running through it. A strong shield. She wondered what that monster Helecho had used to convert the Sentene’s to an explosion.
With the injunction settling around her, Rennyn reminded herself that she’d chosen to do this. Exploding shields would not be necessary.
Chapter Thirteen
"Please state your full name," the person sitting in the centre of the examiner’s table said. She was a woman with short-cropped brown hair, a voice of warm smoke, and a most suspicious gaze. Councillor Allerton, perhaps.
"Rennyn Helena Montjuste-Surclere," Rennyn replied, then added, "Though Rennyn Helena Claire on the Dawnbringer’s Register. And various aliases."
Interesting. She’d answered rather more than she’d been intending. It was a clever spell, encouraging thorough explanation, a potentially fatal chattiness. Narrowing her eyes, Rennyn concentrated on the task of choosing exactly what truth she would tell, and no more.
"Can you prove that?" asked a dark-bearded man sitting at the far right of the table. "Evidently you believe that you are a descendent of Solace Montjuste-Surclere, but that may merely be something you have been told."
Startled, Rennyn had to laugh. "It would be an elaborate ruse, if so. Let me see. I don’t imagine the usual paternity castings would cover such a distant connection, but feel free to devise one. I have a few centuries of documentation, various objects which belonged to the family. I–" She paused, then shrugged. "There’s a collection of letters from King Eliathas. One has the official seal on it. That would establish Tiandel’s survival, at least."
"King Eliathas was aware of the ruse?"
"Pretending to die is perhaps not so hard. Pretending to die after moving your most precious belongings out of your house and shuffling your fortune about in interesting ways, that requires a little collusion."
"Reasonable," the man continued. "What other members of the Montjuste-Surclere line survive?"
"My brother, Sebastian. Solace. This new son of hers, Helecho." The name sat bitter on her tongue.
"After three hundred years, only two descendents of Tiandel remain?"
Rennyn shrugged. "Three hundred years of experiments with the Eferum. It’s not the safest preoccupation."
"Experiments based around the Grand Summoning? It is true, is it not, that this would involve continuing research into the function of the spell? That you would have the means to recreate the Grand Summoning?"
"Quite true." She did not look down, did not dwell on the day her father had not returned, of the void that had left. And she never allowed herself to think of her mother’s death.
"Have you ever planned to cast the Grand Summoning yourself?"
"No."
"Have you supported, assisted or colluded in any other individual casting the Grand Summoning?"
"No."
"Have you, or do you intend to assist or aid Queen Solace in completing the Grand Summoning?"
"No."
Lady Weston’s voice suddenly interjected, "Do you know of any way to stop the Grand Summoning before it completes?"
Rennyn blinked, turning. The Grand Magister had arrived unnoticed to sit beside the Queen. The map of Sark was open before them. Even at this distance Rennyn could see the sharp line she’d drawn along the outskirts of the city.
"Yes." Rennyn ignored the murmur which ran around the room. "The obvious way: go into the Eferum where she is and attack her. She will have the means to fight back, and it now seems possible that she’s guarded by Eferum-Get, but a sufficient force, well-prepared, should overwhelm even that. After all, people die all the time in the midst of summoning focus stones. The problem is what happens with the power she is manipulating. Even if she’d been killed as soon as the Falk expression had appeared, the minimum consequence would be a backlash which could have shattered Aliace Hill and sent pieces of it raining down on the city. To be clear, other than using the attuned focus to push her back during the last moments, I do not know of a way to stop the Grand Summoning without destroying large pieces of Tyrland in the process."
"What do you intend to do after her defeat?" the Queen asked, her voice a very resonant one for such a small woman. Her gaze was steady and unwavering, reserved but not hostile.
"If Solace is pushed back into the Eferum, she will not have been defeated," Rennyn explained. "So I would inevitably have to prepare for her return. But – either way, if I pushed her back or were to succeed in killing her, I…" She shrugged, for she had never found this question easy to answer. "For a while at least, I would do the things I haven’t been able to spare the time to do now. Trivial things. Beyond that I can’t say I’ve made any firm plans. Travel. I’ve not been able to risk leaving Tyrland."
The Queen had listened with an air of polite attention. "You have heard of the recent debates regarding your claim to the throne?"
"Yes. I was surprised by it. I have no claim to the throne. Tiandel abdicated."
"The argument is that if Solace still lives, Tiandel had no throne from which to abdicate."
Rennyn was trying to work out what was going on. It didn’t seem to her that the Queen was concerned in the slightest about the legitimacy of any claim to her throne.
"Well, given that Solace still lives, it’s her claim to the throne which seems to me the point of contention," Rennyn said. "Either way, Tiandel removed himself from the line of succession. Which would make that creature Helecho Crown Prince. Perhaps you should take this discussion up with him?"
The Queen said something softly to Lady Weston, then sat back. Rennyn found the entire exchange confusing, and could only presume that some political point had been made.
"Were you aware of this Helecho’s existence before your encounter in Surclere?" Lady Weston asked.
"No."
"Do you believe it is he who was responsible for the death of your Great-Grandfather?"
Rennyn paused, then said dubiously. "I suppose that’s possible. But it doesn’t seem to me very likely. I don’t believe he has a focus stone. If he was able to open a gate to our world, he would not lack that. But, focus or not, he is a dangerous thing, perhaps more dangerous than Solace. Eferum-Get might have various abilities, but they are not usually mages."