The Other Side of the Lie (EDITING, ON HOLD)

Nineteen-Hawk

Hawk felt more at home here, in Chusi's war room, than he ever had in even his own room. Maybe because now he was with people he could trust not to stab him in the back.

Chusi had given one look at Mist and declared that she wanted to sit in the werewolf's lap. Hawk sometimes forgot that Chusi was a bit old to be demanding those sorts of things, as she was tiny enough to have passed for an eight-year-old. However, Mist accepted the seating arrangements and it was an odd if welcome sight, a little girl sitting in the sad werewolf's lap while they sat around a table with maps of Cloudspire, planning a regicide.

"The last invasion failed," Hunter said with a tired sigh and sat back in his armchair.

Chusi had decided, once she had gained the throne, that the war room had been too uncomfortable. So plush armchairs were clustered around a beautifully carved oak table, there were soft carpets underfoot–Chusi preferred to go barefoot–and meticulously embroidered tapestries on the walls. They had also been offered little cakes sprinkled with powdered sugar and a sweet drink Chusi called indigo ale. It was, in fact, a deep purple color, and Hawk figured the name fit. When Bella had asked whether a child should really be drinking an alcoholic beverage, Chusi had laughed and joked that instead of their mother's milk, babies drank the ale. After a laugh at poor Bella's expense, Hawk explained to the witch that it was really a kind of juice gotten from boiling the petals of the ashbloom, a flower native to Montflame, in water. "The same principle as with hibiscus," Chusi had added.

Hawk sipped from his glass of indigo ale now, and thought about what Hunter had said. "That is true, although it wasn't much of an invasion, but this time around we'll have the advantage of Fire fey troops."

"But not of surprise," Mist said. "The question is, will more bodies make up for the lack of surprise?"

"It can't just make up for it," Chusi stated solemnly. "It has to more than make up for it."

"That's the real problem, isn't it?" Bella sighed.

"What is?" Hawk asked absently, his mind providing then almost immediately discarding plan after plan of action.

"We can't sneak in. She knows we're coming. No matter what we do, how intricate our plan is, she knows we're going to attack."

Hawk looked up, his attention now wholly on Bella. "Go on."

She shifted nervously under his gaze. "Is there any way to get the throne other than by taking it by force, since inheriting it is not going to happen any time soon, unless she is murdered."

"Which brings us right back to the problem of getting in to kill her," Mist spoke up.

"Exactly. And I doubt we'll get lucky enough that someone will get rid of her for us then hand Hawk the crown."

"You want to know about the Challenge!" Chusi exclaimed, and Hawk had an oh, I'm an idiot! moment at that realization. Then he frowned.

"A Challenge can't be issued from child to parent," he said, the kindled hope this had brought him snuffed out.

"No!" Chusi was so excited that she leapt from Mist's lap. Bella just managed to move her glass of indigo ale out of the way before Chusi knocked it over in her enthusiasm. "It has never happened before!"

Hawk's frown deepened. "If you are trying to make a point, I don't know what it is."

Bella rolled her eyes at him. "Chusi is trying to say it hasn't been done, but that it can be."

"I need sleep," grumbled Hawk. "I'm not up to this."

"Too bad." Bella turned to Swan, who had just come in, and looked startled by Bella's excited question. "Are there any documents around with the rules of a royal Challenge to the throne?"

Bewildered, Swan shook her head. "I wouldn't know. I could ask Eliot if Chusi doesn't know. Or we could ask the steward. He knows where everything is, but doing that means accepting the fact that every Fire fey on the mountain will know about whatever you're planning, up to and including the exact shade of the sock's you'll wear to execute it."

"I think that might be a bit of an exaggeration," Eliot teased as he came in behind Hawk's sister.

"Forget the socks," Mist cut in. "Where can we get our hands on the rules to a Challenge?"

"The Royal Challenge?" Eliot asked, surprised. "In the library, probably. I should have thought of this before, it could work."

Hunter, who had been watching them and sipping his indigo ale, stood and placed his hands on the table. "What exactly is this Challenge? How does it work?" He raised a hand to silence Chusi, who had opened her mouth to speak. "I am not interested in who is allowed to challenge who, just what happens."

"Well, it is split in two parts," Chusi began, then stopped. "I think Hawk should tell you, because for every fey kingdom it's different, mostly on account of our different abilities, but the difference can be substantial enough."

Everyone looked at him. "Right," Hawk sighed. "As Chusi said there are two parts. For the Sky fey, the first is a test of the mind and will. The second is strength and strategy. The second part is where the name Challenge comes from, because it is a duel between the challenger and the monarch, or a champion chosen by the monarch."

"Can the challenger send a champion to fight?" Bella asked.

"No," Swan answered before Hawk could.

"The point of the duel is to let the people see that their future ruler, if the challenger wins, is strong enough to protect them. If the challenger sends someone else to fight in their place, then they are saying that they are not willing to spill blood for the people's sake," Hawk elaborated. "The winner is allowed to choose to kill the loser or spare their life."

"Okay, I suppose I was wrong to say no," Swan conceded, "as although the rules allow a champion the use of one is bad sportsmanship."

"What about the first half?" Hunter pressed.

"That changes all the time, but it's a chance to pass on the crown without bloodshed, because if you fail the first test you automatically lose the challenge," he explained, and looked at his sister. "Wasn't it a game of cards once, Swan?" She shrugged. "Nevermind. The nobles get together and decide what the first part is. Sometimes it's reasonable, other times, not so much."

"There's one story of a king who was so bad that when a farmer challenged him, the gentry decided the first part would be cutting wood," Swan said.

"What does cutting wood have to do with the mind and will?" Mist snorted.

"No idea," Swan shrugged. "It's just a story, and likely never happened for real. Supposedly that was how King Kakapo was dethroned."

"Kakapo?" Bella squeaked-laughed.

"Named for his wings."

"After a parrot," Hawk said. "A kind of parrot that is likely the dumbest bird on the planet."

"I really hope that his name only had its basis in his wings," Mist snorted, again. Hawk took a moment to wonder if she had a cold, and her nose was congested.

"Well, seeing as he lost his throne, I don't think he–"

Chusi cut into Hunter's remark. "Okay, not important right now. As long as Hawk can fight and is not stupid, he's got a good chance, right?"

"In theory, yes." Swan looked a little dubious. "The problem is that nothing is certain. We have no idea what mother would do."

"Murder us," Hawk muttered under his breath, but Bella still heard him and shot him a sympathetic glance.

It seemed that Bella was not the only one to have overheard him because his sister said, "don't be a pessimist."

"I rather think that statement would fall under morbidity than pessimism," Eliot mused.

"Not the point. Let's get back on track, people!"

Hawk raised an eyebrow at Bella, who huffed. "I don't want that–that woman–" she sank a world of meaning into the word "– on the throne any longer than she has to be."

"None of us do," Hunter sighed.

That was when Chusi's war room exploded around them.