Rivka shook her head. “Hey! You two. Move that way so he can test his dragon form.”

  The guards scattered warily as if they’d touched hot coals.

  Isaac expanded into the dragon form. “Oy.”

  “Not good?” Rivka’s brows looked concerned.

  “I feel fatigued like this.” He tried to flap his wings, but they wouldn’t move. “That’s weird.”

  Rivka got up from her stone and walked over to him. “You’ll be all right soon,” she cooed, rubbing his nose.

  Just then, Eliana came out of the house, holding her baby in her arms. “Morning, Majesty!”

  “Good morning.” Shulamit eyed the baby. “Does she need to nurse?”

  “Oh, Majesty!” Eliana glowed. “You’re too generous. I’ve never heard of anyone, king or queen, like you before. I mean, they said you were just, and enthusiastic, but they also said you were really young when you ascended the throne, and—”

  “Baby needs food, right?” Shulamit smiled weakly. The fussing embarrassed her and she wasn’t awake enough to be gracious. “Here, let’s get her taken care of.”

  “So sorry about last night’s dinner giving you indigestion,” Eliana commented as Shulamit adjusted the baby against her chest. “That mutton came from a very old sheep, and you must be used to the tenderest lamb. Plus, we don’t peel our carrots way out here in the country…”

  Shulamit let Eliana talk. She knew most people weren’t ready to understand that it wasn’t a refined palate that caused her stomach pain if not under Aviva’s strict and watchful eye—it was the simple presence of wheat. Or chicken, but that was an entirely separate problem with much worse consequences. She’d been so busy making sure there was no fowl in her food that she’d missed the flour in the admittedly clear-looking sauce.

  Well, anyway. Maybe the next few meals could be rice. “Who owns the farm where we’re going next?”

  “Well, it used to belong to the couple who taught the children’s class at temple when my oldest were that age,” Eliana began, talking in encyclopedias as usual, “but they’ve died, so their daughter takes care of the grove. Her name is Halleli. Beautiful little thing. About your height! Would have thought she’d have found a husband by now. She hires in a lot of her farm help and some of those men—would you look at the muscles. Well, of course, what am I saying? You’re around that one all the time, so you know what I mean.” She pointed unobtrusively at Rivka, whose bulging biceps stood out from her sleeveless tunic.

  Shulamit looked away and tried not to smirk at Eliana’s admiration.

  “She’s got a friend there with her though, so maybe she likes it better that way.”

  Shulamit’s ears perked up. “A friend?”

  “Yes, a sturdy young woman called Hadar who dresses like a man and—”

  Shulamit was unable to disguise her shimmering glee. “Oh?” It was so hard to find women like her in this world of silence and propriety. Of course, she could be wrong, but really.

  “Her people live in the Lovely Valley, I think,” Eliana mused. “Coconut farmers, I think. That’s why she’s so strong—had to learn to shimmy up trees.”

  Shulamit was practically vibrating. Then a sober truth spoke in her ear. She was about to visit these happy women, these women just like her, and probably give them bad news.

  The smile broke off at the edges.

  ***

  Rivka loved the chill of the air this side of the mountains, having come from a place far colder than the steamy tropics of Perach. Just as during their sojourn in Imbrio, the coolness gave vigor to her muscles and made her want to jump around and use them. She felt trapped, riding in the carriage, but with Shulamit recovering from the trace flour in her dinner, and Isaac riding on her shoulder still nursing a headache, Rivka knew that they were all very lucky to have a ride even for this short way.

  With the curtains pulled back, though, she could see the lovely morning walk they could have had. A perfectly clear sky domed an earth decorated by orderly rows of trees. Birds hopped on the ground and here and there fluttered out of branches; she hoped they were eating some of the farshtinkener insects.

  “Riv?”

  “Hm?” She turned to face the queen.

  Shulamit looked pensive. “You don’t think Queen Carolina’s mixed up in this bug thing, do you?”

  “How’d you get there?”

  “The timing, partially.” Shulamit twisted one edge of her scarf into a tight coil, then let it relax in her hands. “This wasn’t happening before King Fernando got sick.”

  “You think she’s capable of this kind of malice?” Rivka asked. “Because of… the way they are over there about human rights?”

  “That’s probably part of it,” said Shulamit. “Plus, I mean—she doesn’t seem mean, and she thinks she’s my friend, but since she’s not down here she’d be sheltered from all this.” She gestured out the window at the brown and sickly trees. “She might just think she was taking us down a peg to make things easier for Imbrian economic interests.”

  “Or going along with someone else’s plan to take us down a peg,” suggested Rivka, thinking of the other queen’s husband. She remembered him saying something competitive when he saw the Perachi olive oil in the shivah basket.

  “Or she could just be lashing out emotionally as a reaction to all those proposed boycotts,” Shulamit continued. “That might have hurt her feelings deeper than she was showing, especially since when we saw her she was more preoccupied with grief than anything else.”

  “If she even knows.”

  “Right. But do you think she does?” Shulamit studied Rivka’s face intently.

  “I have an open mind,” said Rivka. “Right now, I’m just tracking my chicken farmer.”

  There was a silence, and Shulamit stared at her hands in her lap. “When I was about sixteen I wanted to marry her and combine the two countries.”

  Rivka smiled to herself. “What do you feel now?”

  “I-I’m afraid of her.”

  Moving carefully so as not to dislodge Isaac, Rivka scooted closer and put her arm around Shulamit’s shoulder. “She’s probably harmless. And even if she’s not, remember—I’m always here.”

  The carriage stopped, and both women looked up to see an older but tidy little farmhouse with a large, well-planted property behind it. “Guess we’re here already,” said Shulamit, adjusting her hair and scarf.

  “I think I can hold my human body up for this,” said Isaac. He crawled down Rivka’s arm and transformed, ending up lying down on the seats across from Rivka and Shulamit. “Oof.”

  “Can you get up?” Rivka looked him over.

  “Yes, yes,” he muttered, moving slowly. Finally, he swung his great weight upright and took a deep breath. “At least the air smells good.”

  Rivka was first out of the carriage and held out her arm to help the queen down. With other guards leading the way, they walked toward the farmhouse.

  The two young farmers and their workers had been prepped for the royal appearance, no doubt by a dawn visit from one of Gil and Eliana’s numerous offspring or in-laws. They stood outside the farmhouse, nervously watching the party’s approach.

  It was easy to pick out the women Eliana had been speaking about. One of them was very short and very pretty, with a curvy figure and long hair tied back under a scarf. The other was a little taller and made of wiry muscle, with short, wavy hair that was parted on one side. Their body language hinted that Shulamit’s glee had been on point; they hovered in each other’s space, most likely feeding off each other to create a more confident being together than they would have each been separately.

  Shulamit approached them with Rivka close behind. “Peace, everyone. Thank you so much for welcoming us to your grove.”

  The two farmers exchanged a brief, unspoken conversation with their eyes, and then the shorter, curvier woman stepped forward. “It’s such an honor to have you here, Your Majesty.” She bowed daintily, with her companion and her workers following suit. “I’m Halleli, and this is Hadar.”

  Hadar bowed from the neck. Rivka found herself looking over the woman’s muscles. She wondered if Hadar knew anything about fighting, even in sport, or if her strength was of yet simply the task-taught type.

  “It’s so wonderful to meet you,” said Shulamit, brimming over with sincerity. “I know our people have a hard time talking about these things, but…” She took a deep breath. Rivka smiled at her beneath her mask, hoping the good vibes helped. “I have a female companion too. Her name is Aviva. She’s back home at the palace with the princess.”

  Rivka was proud of her, but looking at that pained yet exalted face, she wondered if that conversation would ever get any easier.

  The couple in front of them were clearly happily surprised. Halleli’s eyes widened, and Hadar broke into a huge grin. “See, didn’t I tell you? There are rumors, Your Majesty,” she explained.

  “I hoped there were,” said Shulamit sheepishly, but Rivka was pleased to see that she was relaxed now. The bottle was uncorked and flowed freely. “That makes things easier! Besides, I’d want everyone like us to know I was out there.”

  “People talk about them more.” Hadar nodded toward Rivka and Isaac. “Does he really… the dragon?”

  “Oh, I would love to see a dragon… I love dragons! When my parents were alive, they used to take me high up in the mountains and we’d watch the wild ones,” Halleli gushed and dreamed.

  “I’m sorry to say I am not feeling well,” said Isaac gravely, “but I will give you a little show.” With those words, he grew into his full, gigantic, green-black dragon shape. Rivka watched him, a little stirred, a little worried.

  He must have noticed her concerned eyes, because he looked over at her and winked. She smiled involuntarily and wiped sweat off her face beneath her mask, her heart full of affection.

  “Oh, he’s so beautiful!” Halleli’s face looked like that of a child in wonderment.

  Hadar chuckled at her. “She draws a lot of dragons. She’s always drawing when we get some downtime.”

  “She can draw me if she likes,” said Isaac. “I may not have much energy today, but it doesn’t take energy to pose.” He struck a dramatic posture, and Rivka snorted with laughter.

  “What about Captain Riv?” Hadar asked brightly. “I mean, I know that obviously some of those stories can’t be true—”

  “I guarantee you I did not perform my own bris,” Rivka barked.

  Shulamit burst into giggles.

  “—but you’re still a giant!” Hadar finished.

  “He’s our giant,” Shulamit interjected.

  “I’ve been working on my own form, a little.” Hadar flexed, and Rivka noticed a look of delight cross Halleli’s face. “She draws that too,” Hadar added. “Anyway, while you’re here… if it’s not too much trouble… uh…” She scratched her head. “Maybe you could give me some tips?”

  Rivka swelled not only with pride, but also enthusiasm. Suddenly this young and energetic woman seemed like a fantastic prospect for the female guard she’d been planning.

  “I would really like that,” she said emphatically.

  10. Abscheid und Feuerzauber

  “Here, you have to try this one next.” Halleli opened another jug and fished out a handful of olives, eating one herself, as she had been all morning, to show Shulamit’s guards they were safe.

  Shulamit and Isaac each took a couple of the tiny, purple fruits from her offering palm. “Oh, that’s almost floral!” exclaimed the queen. “How’d you do that? It’s really nice and mild.”

  “It’s a secret.” Halleli grinned. “My mother learned it from her father. We’ve been on this land for generations.”

  Shulamit chewed thoughtfully, concentrating on the pleasure of the brine slipping down her throat so that her face wouldn’t betray the guilt Halleli’s words produced.

  There were other things on her mind too. “I would have given anything at sixteen to have known you were out there.” Shulamit wiped oil from her lips. “Even just as a friend. I felt so alone, so strange. What was it like for you?”

  “I didn’t know.” Halleli’s smile was self-conscious. “You’re gonna laugh at me… maybe… I thought everyone felt like this. When I was that young, I mean.”

  “You mean you thought that all women…”

  Halleli eyed Isaac and the guards, then leaned in closer to Shulamit so the men couldn’t hear. “Girls are so pretty and smell good, and men are… something else, and I just figured that every woman just found a man she felt friendly enough with to marry and that was it.”

  Shulamit grinned. “No, many women actually like lying down with men.”

  “You’re teasing me. I know that now.” Halleli ate another olive, then replaced the lid on the jug. “How did you know?”

  “My father had this… adult stuff I wasn’t supposed to be looking at. The really shameful part is that I think it was made for men.” Shulamit wished they could have this conversation in private, without the male guards—even Isaac—but since she was queen, she couldn’t very well be alone, and Rivka was off sparring with Hadar on the hillside. It was a good thing Rivka was planning to introduce more female guards, in case this sort of thing happened again. “They weren’t always looking at each other in the drawings—they were looking out at the audience. It made me feel, you know… radiantly happy and then also shameful at the same time, like I didn’t belong to myself, somehow.”

  “I bet I could make better drawings,” said Halleli. Then her face brightened. “Hey, do you think I could do a study of your face?”

  “That might be fun!”

  Halleli disappeared into another room to get her drawing supplies. While she was gone, Shulamit looked at Isaac, her face grim.

  “I saw them too, Malkeleh.”

  “I can’t do this.”

  He looked down at her with compassion swimming in his hooded eyes. “Because she’s like you?”

  “I don’t know…” Shulamit looked down at the table. “Even if she wasn’t, they’ve been on this farm for generations.”

  “This farm lies between the infestation and the Lovely Valley,” Isaac reminded her. “Your country’s breadbasket. Or breadfruit-basket.” He made a sickly grin at his own joke. “And the insects have already begun to feed, spreading their plague.”

  “Look, Isaac, I know your magic wasn’t the right spell, but what about Aafsaneh?” Shulamit looked up at him intensely. “She ran a vineyard since before I was born, all those years before she became Queen of the City of Red Clay. I bet she’d have some way of wiping out the insects, or at least the blight they’re spreading.”

  “That’s a great idea, but—”

  Just then, Halleli came back with pencils and paper. “I brought you some of my drawings, in case you wanted to see.” She handed them over, her face glowing but shy.

  “You’re really good at these!” Shulamit turned pages and saw dragons, olive trees, and some of Hadar. “I like the way you captured the way her muscles stand out. It looks like she’s really moving.”

  “Thanks,” said Halleli, shifting papers around. “She doesn’t like to sit still for them; she’s got too much energy for that. So I try to do quick sketches of what I can see in a moment, and then combine them later when I have more time to work.”

  With a blank paper in front of her on the table, the pretty, young woman moved her pencil in a circle as she studied the queen’s face. Shulamit noted that only after making several rounds did she touch its point to the page.

  “Sometimes if I do that, I can see the picture start to appear before I even draw it,” Halleli explained.

  “Am I in a good pose?”

  Halleli nodded, then jumped up. “Wait! I’ll be right back.”

  She bounded outside, the door swinging behind her.

  Shulamit looked over at Isaac. “Anyway, I think we should send for Aafsaneh.”

  “Do you think we can wait that long? Even if I were well enough to fly over there and get her?”

  “We can send our fastest horse and rider.”

  Halleli came back inside carrying a couple of inflorescences of four-lobed pink ixora flowers. “Here, I just got these from the bush in the front garden. That way I’ll remember that you were really here, in our little kitchen!”

  As Shulamit accepted the flowers into her arms, she grew even more determined to save the women’s grove, somehow. There had to be a way. If Isaac wasn’t well enough to fly over to the City of Red Clay, they’d just have to find a horse and rider fast enough. Rivka would know which of the Royal Guard was the most renowned for speed. Or perhaps one of the farmers could help. Was anyone around here breeding racing horses?

  Three days. Four days, actually, since they were farther east than Home City. Could the farm hold out for four days? How fast did the bugs move? Oh, and yes, then there was the journey back… Queen Aafsaneh could probably do it in two days, flying in her swan form.

  A week, then. Did they have a week?

  “You have your father’s thick eyebrows,” Halleli commented.

  Shulamit’s eyes stung a little, but it was just a reflex, and she didn’t cry. “Yes,” she agreed. “You’ve seen him?”

  Halleli nodded. “My parents took me to Home City for Purim one year. I dressed as a carrot.”

  Shulamit giggled. “That must have been adorable!”

  “I looked hideous, but I had so much fun.” Halleli’s pencil moved across the paper in slow, fluid lines. “It was really just an old orange dress, and I used papyrus to make myself a hat, to be my greens on top.”

  “I remember being a fairy,” said Shulamit. “I had great big wings made of silk with a frame of cane inside.” And the whole of the country’s treasury to pay for it. I should probably stop talking. She fought the grimace that threatened to mar Halleli’s portrait.

  How can I take this from her? When I have the whole palace, and this is her whole family history?

  Aafsaneh. It all boiled down to Aafsaneh. She had to know a way.