Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen by Aaron Lee Yeager Page A

with such glorious colors.”
    “You are welcome to trade places with me.”
    “Don’t be absurd. I could never get there in time. Now, my records here show that you are from Pyrite Province, Nicklesmith village, is that correct?”
    “Y-Yes.”
    “Excellent. At this very moment, two of my associates are traveling to your home. They will arrive in approximately three minutes. Once they get there, they will check to see if your ship has dropped off the grid or not. If it has, then they will announce the glorious service you have provided for our people through your selfless sacrifice, and make sure that your kin are all well taken care of. If however, your ship is still in the air, then they will paint on them a sublime portrait of violence and torture that will be truly a work of art. The choice is yours.”
    The transmission ended and the room was left in darkness. Tarran stood before the keystone as it slowly rotated. Suddenly everything that had mattered so much to him only moments before no longer mattered. His savings, his plans to start his own business, his career path, all meaningless. He thought about the little house by the rock-spring, where his mother was, at that very moment, probably sitting on the porch playing with her grandkids. He thought about his brothers and sisters, his aunts and uncles, who were apt to visit at this time of day. He tried desperately to make his love for them strong enough to overcome his natural instinct for self-preservation. He didn’t want to die, but he loved them more.
    “I should have been an accountant,” Tarran cried out as he pulled out his spanner and raised it over his head, ready to smash the keystone.
    From the corner of his eye, he could see the outline of a woman on the other side of the barrier, tapping it with the butt of her pistol as if she expected him to open the door for her.
    “I can’t talk right now, I have to crash the ship for the crazy man!” Tarran shouted.
    The woman stepped through the barrier as if it didn’t exist at all.
    “How did you...?” Tarran whispered.
    The woman fired her pistol. The small seed fired burst in the air, growing into long sinuous vines that wrapped around his body like cables of iron, completely immobilizing him where he stood.
    “No! Bad Stonemaster!” Athel scolded, walking over and smacking him on the nose. “No smash keystone! Bad!”

Chapter Seven
    Resplendent in her finest combat gown, Aden Buckthorn stood tall and proud atop her family’s great tree, Buckeye. From here she had a commanding view of the entire southern peninsula. The cool autumn breeze was coming strong from the south. This is where the hammer blow would strike hardest. Through her tree she could feel the song of the forest. Brave and defiant, like a giant heartbeat. Hundreds of thousands of voices, all coordinated, singing in harmony. It was a song of unity, of sisterhood, of life. And, at the center of it all, was the Queen. Like a conductor in a mighty orchestra, her will organized the individual voices into one.
    Aden looked around. All of the tallest trees had atop them a single treesinger. Hundreds of them, representatives from all families, both great and small. She had never seen so many in one place at one time before.
    And yet, before them was the largest force of Naval vessels ever assembled. Tens of thousands of warships hung in the horizon before them. She felt as if she were an ant in the path of a thunderstorm. But, just as quickly as it appeared, her moment of doubt flowed out of her, replaced with resolve and determination.
    Aden looked over at Captain Tallia, who was calmly munching on a radish, looking so relaxed she could have been sitting on her porch in the midday shade.
    “I don’t see any sails unfurled yet,” Aden observed. “But then again there is still five minutes left until the deadline.”
    “That is correct,” Captain Tallia said, a twinkle in her eye. “They still have five minutes to surrender.”
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