I wasn’t much better at making conversation here than at Maiwenn’s, but fortunately, there was no need for me to do anything. Davros and his associates kept the talking going, most of the conversation centering on how glad they were that I had come by, what an honor it was to meet me, how they hoped I’d call on them if I needed anything, et cetera, et cetera.
Which was why it was a bit shocking when Davros’ wife suddenly asked, “But if you would, your majesty, please tell us what it is we’ve done to displease you. We’ll do anything at all to make amends and gain your favor once more. Anything.”
I almost choked on the honey cake. “What do you mean…displease me?”
The villagers exchanged glances. “Well…,” said Davros at last. “There must be something. You’ve placed a blight on the land, stripping us of our water and food. Surely we’ve done something to warrant your most righteous displeasure.”
“You need only let us know what it is,” piped in someone else. “We will do anything you require to lift this curse from us.”
This was the most astonishing thing to happen to me all day-which was saying something. I looked at Shaya and Rurik for help, having no clue how to respond to this. For a moment, I thought they would once again make me fend for myself, until Shaya finally spoke.
“The residents had built their lives around the shape of the land when Aeson ruled it, when it was the Alder Land. When it transformed itself to you, their old ways no longer worked. Their crops don’t grow in this weather. The wells have run dry.”
I stared at her in shock. Never, never had this occurred to me-but then, it wasn’t like I’d spent a whole lot of time thinking about the Thorn Land. Most of my energy had been spent on figuring out how to avoid it. Studying Shaya, I wondered how long she’d known about this. I somehow doubted there was much that went on around here that she didn’t know about. From the looks of Rurik’s averted gaze, it appeared as though he’d known about this problem as well. Both knew how upset I got when forced to deal with any sort of queenly issues. So both had spared me the details while these people suffered.
I turned back to Davros. “It’s not a curse…it’s, I don’t know, it’s just the way the land is. The way I wanted it to be.”
Astonished looks met me, and I could only imagine what a freak I sounded like. When Aeson had ruled, this land had been green and lush, filled with forests and fertile farmland. Who in their right mind would turn it into a desert? Davros confirmed as much.
“But this land…this land is impossible to survive in,” he said.
“Not where I come from,” I told him. “This is like the land I grew up in. People live and flourish there.”
People also had modern ways of bringing in water and shopping for whatever other stuff they might need. And that wasn’t even taking air-conditioning into account.
“How?” he asked.
I didn’t know how to readily answer. I didn’t really understand the intimate details of my world’s infrastructure. I turned a faucet and water came out. I went to the grocery store and bought milk and Pop-Tarts. Desperately, I racked my brain and tried to pull out elementary school lessons about Arizona’s history.
“Irrigation,” I said lamely. “Squash, I think. And, um, corn.” Had the natives grown corn? Or was I getting confused by stereotypes? Shit. I was so ignorant. The only thing I felt confident of was that Pop-Tarts were not cultivated natively in Arizona. The looks the others gave me told me I wasn’t helping this situation any.
I glanced at Shaya and Rurik, but this time, no help came. The full weight of what I’d done started to sink in. Maybe I hadn’t wanted this land. Maybe I hadn’t intentionally turned it into a mirror of wild Tucson. The point was: it was done. The Thorn Land was as it was, and taking in these ragged and starving people, I realized it was all my fault. Only, I had no clue how to fix it. I was too much a product of modern innovation. There was nothing I could do.
Scratch that. There was one thing I could do.
I abruptly stood from the table, catching everyone by surprise. As custom dictated, they all hastily scrambled and rose as well. Without explaining myself, I headed outside, back out into the village. Behind me, I could hear Davros babbling something, apparently thinking they’d again caused offense. They probably thought I was about to send lightning bolts from the sky.
As it was, that might not have been a bad idea-if I actually had that power. These people could certainly use rain. But one rainstorm wouldn’t fix things, and I could hardly do it day after day. Instead, I walked out to the middle of the street and came to a halt. My guards straightened up, awaiting my orders, and other residents stopped to see what was happening. Those from Davros’ gathering soon poured out of the house and joined everyone else.
I closed my eyes, opening myself to the world around me. I smelled the clean, fresh scent of the desert and the faint, faint breeze blowing through it. The setting sun warmed my skin. Then, I pushed deeper, reaching out to that which the magic within me instinctively bonded to. I felt the minuscule water vapor in the air, but that wasn’t what I wanted. I had to go further. I sent my magical senses into the ground, seeking water throughout the village. None. I remembered what Shaya had said about wells drying up, which meant the surface wasn’t going to yield anything. That meant I’d have to go deeper still.
There. Back in the direction we’d entered town, I felt a hit. I opened my eyes and strode toward it, the water calling to me. I was vaguely aware of a crowd following me, but I paid them no attention. Only the water was my goal. When I reached the spot, I found that it was just on the town’s outer edge. A mesquite tree grew nearby, which should have been a tip-off. They had deep feelers that penetrated the earth in search of moisture.
I too sent my power into the ground, trying to summon the water up. There was a lot of dirt between me and it, and I realized it wouldn’t do these people any good in the long term to just suck it to the surface right now. I turned around and found Davros right behind me, face anxious. I pointed to the ground.
“You guys need to dig here. Right now. There’s water here.”
He stared at me, mouth agape. A moment later, he snapped out of it and turned to those nearest him. “You heard the queen! Fetch shovels immediately. And find anyone who can work with the earth.”
Earth magic. A smart idea. Gentry didn’t have bulldozers or drills, but they did have people who could throw around huge piles of dirt, which was pretty sweet for this kind of thing. Dorian-who was probably the strongest earth user in the Otherworld-could cause earthquakes and level buildings.
In minutes, a group had assembled. I tried to take a shovel and help, but that nearly caused Shaya and Davros to have a heart attack. Queens didn’t do that kind of work. Instead, I stepped back, watching as the other villagers used magic and manual labor to dig where I’d indicated. When the hole grew too deep for shovels, the village’s two earth-magic users took over. Even combined, they were nowhere near Dorian in strength, but they definitely sped the process along, kicking up towers of dirt along the sides. Finally, I heard a great cheer. Everyone else and I crowded to the hole’s sides, peering down. It was deep in the ground, but muddy water was slowly filling up the bottom.
I looked at Davros. “Can you guys turn this into a well?” I certainly hoped so because I sure as hell had no idea how to do it. I imagined it involved stones and a bucket, but maybe that was just my naïve fairy-tale images.
His head bobbed eagerly. “Yes, yes, your majesty. Thank you, your majesty.”
After that, it was nearly impossible to leave. I was regarded as a miracle worker. I was no longer the tyrant queen. I was their savior, the generous and wonderful monarch who had brought life to their land. I declined their pleas to stay and celebrate but told them I’d be back with other ways to save their town. Admittedly, I had no idea what that would entail, but mentioning such a minor detail would have seriously brought down everyone’s mood.