The Lyric considered that for a time. “That is true, Murialis. I shall rest here in your garden for a time.”
“You have my leave,” Murialis replied.
The Lyric turned and strode across the grasses of the garden and settled to the ground almost at once.
Murialis turned to Ethis, laughter playing across her lips as she spoke. “She certainly takes her job seriously, doesn’t she? How do you think she did as an impression of me?”
“She was but a shadow of your Imperial Presence, Your Majesty,” Ethis answered with a slight bow.
“Flatterer! You must agree that even my shadow is so large that she can’t even fill that!” Murialis laughed heartily and then turned her eyes on Drakis. “So this is the one, eh? He answers to the song well enough, I’ll give you that.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ethis nodded. “His name is. .”
“Drakis, of course, I know. . but then it would have to be, wouldn’t it?” Murialis nodded, her eyes fixed on the human male. “So, are we standing in the presence of destined greatness? Is this the one of whom it is said that he will return the glory of the human age?”
Ethis began, “Your Majesty. .”
“Let him speak,” Murialis cut off Ethis’ words. She rose from her throne, towering over them all. Drakis looked up into the wide face and realized that Murialis was in no way weak or even benevolent. There was malice and anger behind her eyes, and her body held power and strength that might easily break even a manticore in two. “What say you, Drakis? This manticore tells me that you are the human of prophesied destiny who will free us all from the tyranny of Rhonas and bring back the glories of the past. Are you this avatar of the gods?”
Drakis swallowed, the words forming with difficulty in his throat.
Jugar spoke into the silence. “He is, Your Majesty I can personally assure you without hesitation. .”
“If I had wanted a lie, I would have asked you first, dwarf!” Murialis took a step closer toward Drakis. Clouds gathered with unnatural speed overhead. She towered over him as she spoke, her face pressing down close to his. “I am not some young wench who can be impressed by tales, human! Do you know why these are called the Eternal Halls? It is because there is no end to them. The halls, rooms, walls, floors, ceilings, furniture. . everything. . is constantly being built for me by the subjects of the forest. You cannot escape these halls because they never end. . they are being renewed from moment to moment so that my palace surrounds me no matter where I go in my kingdom. You cannot find a way out because there is no way out until I decide there is! Your destiny is in my hands until I say otherwise, so tell me: Are you the prophesied one?”
“I. . perhaps.”
“A dwarven answer if I ever heard one!” Murialis shrieked. Lightning cut across the sky, its thunder shaking the garden. “I’ll ask you once more, human! Are you. .”
“I DON’T KNOW,” Drakis yelled.
Murialis straightened up.
The sky began to brighten.
“Oh, Felicia?” Murialis called brightly.
“Yes, sister?” the Lyric said, sitting up at once on the grass nearby.
“Please take my friends through that door,” the Queen said with a smile as she pointed to an opening on her right. “You will find a banquet prepared in your honor.”
“Your courts honor us!” the Lyric replied with a firm nod.