Book III. Half Moon

Thou sayest well, and it holds well too, for the fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, by the moon.

—William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part I

Night, and the holy hunter rides:

And the stars stand still and the pale moon hides

And the brave deer run, but the King Stag knows

He will fall at the end to Ceinwen's Bow.

—Talis Kimberley, "Ceinwen's Bow"

"By now you know the Up-and-Under is in the service of the elements, and each of them belongs to a monarch," Niamh began. "The King of Cups owns the waters, for example, and the Page of Frozen Waters serves him, and the Lady of Salt and Sorrow was by his side. She may yet be again, if she decides to take him back, if the Page allows it. Not every monarch has a consort. The ones who do tend to last longer."

"We know all this," said Avery crossly.

"Why should the Page have a say?" asked Zib. "She serves the King, doesn't she?"

"Yes, but she's never left his side, and the Lady has. If the Page objected loudly enough, the King might refuse to bring his consort home again."

"That doesn't make any sense," said Avery.

Niamh fixed him with a look. "There's no point to arguing with how much sense the truth does or doesn't make when we're all inside the same mosasaur—I like that word, it's much kinder than most of the things people from the land call the denizens of the deep depths, and it has a friendly sound to it. We'll get where we're going when we get there. If you want to hear the story of the sword, why I found it and why Zib has it, you'll be patient and let me tell it in my own way, and not whatever way you want me to."

Avery opened his mouth to say something else, and stopped as Zib slapped her hand over it, cutting him off before he could begin. "He won't interrupt anymore," she said. "I promise, even if he doesn't. I want to know. Please, tell me."

Niamh nodded, seemingly appeased. "All right. The consorts of the kings and queens are not kings or queens in their own right, because there can only be one crown to a quarter, and if they were to be crowned, we would have eight crowns, and that would be too many. But the Queen of Wands, who stands for fire and change and the bright burning lands of the Coalcatch Caverns, has never taken a consort, nor set one aside; she has only and ever ruled alone, singular and complete unto herself. And when she first took her place, the Lord of the previous queen was still in his place, and very angry to see a succession when he, himself, had never been in consideration for the crown.…"

—From Into the Windwracked Wilds, by A. Deborah Baker