“One can turn upon their own nature to support another, such as what occurred when Ferra captured Oriana,” Micah explained. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but none of Oriana’s children survived to adulthood. That tragedy was one of the many reasons Ferra, along with her supporters, sought to overwhelm the Golden Court. If Oriana and Eurwynn had had any living heirs, those of their bloodline would have defended them. Eurwynn might not have been executed; perhaps they wouldn’t have been dethroned at all.”
“Why didn’t anyone support you?” I asked, since, as silver, he was next in line. Micah sighed, pain creasing his features. I began apologizing, but he waved it away.
“No. You should know.” He sent the silverkin away with a look, then he perched on the bed. After he took another deep breath, he stared at the floor as he told me how Ferra had committed the ultimate betrayal.
“Those of earth, specifically the greater stones, were always the ruling element.” He shook his head. “No, not always, but for many generations. Then we of metal had the grand idea that we were somehow more suited to rule than those of stone, and we plotted a coup.” I sat beside him and slipped my fingers against his palm. Micah smiled at that, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “While we plotted against stone, Ferra plotted against gold. She gained the support of not only the lesser metals, such as wolfram and zinc—”
“What is wolfram?” I interrupted. I had never heard of such a substance. “Metal used by wolves?” Micah smiled again, a bit wider this time.
“No, love,” he replied, kissing my hair. “In the Mundane realm, you refer to it as tungsten.”
“Tungsten,” I repeated. I wondered how many other metals went by stage names in the Otherworld. “Are there a lot of…of wolframs?”
“Many of them, far more than can claim to be of gold, or silver or copper for that matter,” Micah replied. “Ferra was never picky in choosing her minions.”
“Huh.” In the midst of wondering if a tungsten-wolfram Elemental looked, um, wolfish, I realized that Micah was looking at me expectantly. “I’m sorry. Go on.”
“So the lesser metals joined with Ferra,” Micah continued, “as did other beings not of the Elements.” I remembered the pervading chill of the Iron Queen’s court, dark and dank and populated with the creatures of nightmares. Those lesser metals must have been pretty desperate to have their voices heard, to hang out with those monsters. “Once her army had been raised, Ferra invaded the Golden Court and beheaded Eurwynn herself. After seeing her beloved husband’s head rolling away from his body, Oriana was easily captured. Once the Gold King was dead, and the Gold Queen was bound in iron chains, Ferra became our queen.”
“Shouldn’t the next rulers have been your parents?” I asked. Micah squeezed his eyes shut, his voice little more than a rasp when he answered.
“My father died while I was still very young,” he said with the detached grief of one who could hardly remember the person he grieved for. “I am their only child.”
“Then, your mother should have been the Silver Queen.”
“She was killed,” Micah whispered. “We were caught unawares, just she and I, in the far orchard. My mother summoned the silverkin, but only a few were able to reach us in time. She ordered them to shield me, and then she drew the attackers away from me. That was the last time I saw her alive, heard her voice.” He went on to describe the protective cairn the silverkin had formed as a shield above him, how he had heard his mother’s cries, her killer’s laugh deep and terrifying, like boulders breaking in an avalanche. True to their orders, the silverkin hadn’t dispersed until they were certain that Micah was safe, and by then it was too late. Selene Silverstrand was dead.
Micah went on, explaining that he had been so distraught that after he buried his mother he’d destroyed the family home, unable to bear so many memories. In his mother’s honor, he’d built a new house, the solid silver manor we now lived in, directly on top of the old. While he was drowning in his grief, the Elemental power struggle played out without him.
“Oh, Micah,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was war,” he mumbled. “Casualties happen in war. That is to be expected, but no one ever expects the ones they love to fall.” Micah tightened his arms around me, holding on to me as if I was a lifeline. I silently vowed to never, ever complain when he sent the silverkin to guard me. Maybe I’d start sending them to guard him.