Mad queen, p.1
Mad Queen, page 1
MAD QUEEN
THE STARSHIP IN THE STONE
BOOK 9
M.R. FORBES
Published by Quirky Algorithms
Seattle, Washington
This novel is a work of fiction and a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2025 by Quirky Algorithms
All rights reserved.
Cover illustration by Tom Edwards
Edited by Merrylee Lanehart
CHAPTER 1
Thomas pulled his tunic over his head, the soft fabric settling against his shoulders. The garment was simple and comfortable—crimson, embroidered with the golden dragon’s head logo Merlin had designed and apparently decided to apply to all of their new clothing. It was a welcome change from the armor he had worn earlier, when chaos and destruction had led to victory and liberation.
Eight hours had passed since he’d watched Klingsor's fortress disappear in a brilliant flash of destruction. Eight hours since they’d lifted off from Kheir-Lossan's corrupted surface, and the events in that underground laboratory remained as fresh and vivid in his thoughts as if they were still unfolding around him.
He could still see Turquine collapsing as the counter-nanites stripped away his enhancements, could still hear the desperation in the Draconite's voice as he fought against Klingsor's control to free Halvy from the Telemuter. The memory of that sacrifice sat like a heavy stone upon his heart. It was a stark reminder that even the most unlikely of beings could find redemption when faced with a choice between power and love. It was also a reminder of his own redemption, still playing out in a galaxy so very far from his original home. He’d been given a second chance to be a better person. Turquine had perhaps deserved a second chance, too, but the opportunity had presented itself far too late.
Then there was Halvy's display of magical fury, the young wizard's rage burning away Mordred's body before trapping the necromancer who had tortured him. Thomas closed his eyes, remembering Morgana's anguished scream as she watched her son's body reduced to ash. The sound had cut through Thomas deeper than any blade could have managed. They were enemies, sure. That wasn’t about to change. But only the most heartless soul would fail to find sympathy for one whose heart had been stabbed clean through.
The escape itself had been almost anticlimactic after the intensity of the battle in Klingsor’s laboratory. Ironside's escape stung, but Thomas could hardly be surprised. The Red Knight never promised he wouldn’t try to escape, and he’d been honorable enough not to kill Thorgrim in the process. Now, Lancelot was lost somewhere in the void, the body of one of Avalon’s most valiant legends a host to one of Avalon's most dangerous legends.
Normally, he might enjoy the way the ship buzzed with activity. Normally, he might have allowed the joy of what they had accomplished to sink in, but with Excalibur carrying nearly twice her intended complement—including Morgana, Halvy, the ogre Frambur, the scientists from Falias, and the six surviving members of the Druid Guard that had left Avalyeth with them—Thomas’ quarters was the only place to find full solitude.
He’d spent most of the last eight hours ensconced in that solitude, coming to terms with the cost of victory. Lancelot taken. Taliesin dead. And while one threat had been eliminated, the larger threat remained. There was little time to celebrate when the greater war for Avalon’s future would resume very shortly upon their exit from the Blackveil Corridor.
Thomas reached for his sword belt, the familiar weight of Cindlar's Blade in his hand offering its own comfort. Normally, he wouldn’t wear it in transit, but while Morgana had spared him and Halvy in the depths of Kheir-Lossan, he couldn’t be sure her honor would remain intact for the journey home. Not once she’d had time to further process her grief and loss.
Thomas, Merlin's voice materialized in his mind through the personal connection they’d had since they met on Earth. I thought you should know that Morgana has just left her quarters.
Thomas paused, his hand stilling on his sheathed weapon. He'd been dreading this moment, knowing that Morgana's grief would eventually translate to action. Perhaps the moment of reckoning had come. She’d remained silent during their departure from Kheir-Lossan, brooding in her quarters, but that period of reflection was apparently over.
Where is she headed? Thomas already suspected Merlin’s answer.
Toward the laboratory, I believe.
Her crown. Of course. I need to get there. Keep monitoring her position, let me know if she diverts to somewhere else.
Of course, my boy. Though I should warn you, she appears quite agitated.
Thomas wasn't surprised. With Halvy incinerating her son, all of her plans to save his essence in the Wastes had come crumbling down. And now that she had recovered enough from her initial shock and grief, she was sure to be even angrier about the outcome.
He finished buckling the belt around his waist and exited his quarters. Making his way through Excalibur's corridors, he nodded to the pair of wounded Druid guards as he passed them, the intense set of his features quieting any thoughts they might have had of trying to speak to him.
When Thomas reached the laboratory, he could hear raised voices from within, Morgana's distinctive snarl competing with Krythis' more measured tones. He paused at the entrance, listening.
"—complete incompetence!" Morgana's voice carried the sharp edge of barely controlled fury. "Four stones! Four of my most precious artifacts, destroyed through your careless handling!"
"The transportation process was unprecedented," Krythis replied, his voice tight with his own frustration. "We achieved something that should have been impossible. We converted an entire starship into pure magical energy and traveled through the streams. That any of us survived intact is miraculous, never mind your soul stones.”
"Miraculous?" Morgana's laugh was sharp and bitter. "You destroyed centuries of accumulated power! Each of those stones contained energy I spent decades gathering, and you reduced them to worthless crystals!"
After gauging the level of tension before intervening, Thomas stepped into the laboratory. "Enough," he said, Arthur's essence flowing through his voice to lend it authority in cutting through their argument. Both Morgana and Krythis fell silent. Though the tension between them remained thick in the air, Thomas’ tone immediately drew their attention.
Thomas took a moment to scan the various displays and workstations. They were still displaying the aftermath of their desperate engineering project. Morgana’s crown rested on one of the tables, bereft of its stones. Beside it lay the device the Sidhe engineer had devised to convert Excalibur to magical energy, Morgana’s nine soul stones mounted to it. Thomas could see right away that four of them were cracked open, their interiors empty of the roiling dark souls that had been imprisoned within.
His attention returned to Morgana and Krythis. Morgana’s scales were dark with emotion, while her eyes still blazed with barely contained rage. Krythis’ expression was a mixture of professional pride and personal frustration.
"Morgana," Thomas continued, his tone remaining calm despite the situation's volatility, “I would appreciate it if you'd explain what's happening here."
The Draconite queen withdrew her claws from where she’d scored shallow grooves in the edge of the laboratory table. "I came to retrieve my crown," she said, each word carefully measured to avoid the venom that Thomas could tell she wanted to release. "I discovered that four of my nine soul stones were destroyed during our transit to Kheir-Lossan.”
"She knew the risks involved," Krythis interjected, his frustration breaking through his diplomatic restraint. "We explained clearly that the energy conversion might damage the soul stones. She accepted those risks willingly."
Thomas raised his hand to quiet the engineer before he could continue. “I understand, Krythis,” he said, turning back to Morgana. “As I recall, you clearly accepted that the process was untested and dangerous, and that the soul stones might be damaged in the attempt. As Krythis mentioned, it’s fortunate that any of us survived.” He kept his voice calm, letting it carry the gentle firmness that Arthur's essence provided.
Morgana's eyes flashed with renewed fury. "Easy words when the losses aren't yours," she snarled. "I was willing to accept risks when there was hope of saving my child. He's nothing but ash now, scattered to the winds after you destroyed Klingsor's fortress, all because of your broodling Druid. Since I can never recover what truly mattered to me, I believe I deserve full recompense." She turned her gaze toward Thomas with predatory intensity. "I know you recovered replacements from the Telemuter. Three soul stones that belonged to you and your companions. I want them."
A surge of shocked amazement shot through Thomas at her words, and he struggled to keep his expression neutral. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. After everything they had been through, after all the sacrifice and loss, Morgana had apparently learned nothing. Her thoughts remained focused on what she wanted, on what would serve her interests and what she believed she deserved, even when that belief was completely misplaced.
"I think we should discuss this matter when you're calmer," Thomas suggested, his tone remaining gentle despite his growing frustration. "You've suffered a terrible loss, and grief can cloud judgment—"
"No," Morgana interrupted, her voice sharp with rejection. "I won't be dismissed or patronized. We'll discuss this now." Her gaze, calculating and dangerous, shifted between Thomas and Krythis. "Since we're addressing the matter of compensation, let's also discuss Klingsor's c
The question caught Thomas off guard. He hadn't had time to formulate specific plans for the necromancer's prison beyond keeping it secure. The crystal currently rested in Excalibur’s armory, its dark surface occasionally flickering with trapped malevolence as Klingsor's essence tested its bonds. Thomas knew only that he couldn't allow such a dangerous artifact to fall into the wrong hands.
Wrong hands like Morgana’s.
“My priority is keeping it safe and ensuring Klingsor can never escape,” he replied.
Morgana's expression showed her incredulity at his response. “And how do you intend to do that, Daeardrayke?” She hissed his title with utter disdain.
The conversation was spiraling toward dangerous territory. Thomas could see the fury in Morgana's eyes, all filters and logic thrown aside in her anger. Arthur's essence stirred within him, providing guidance.
"Morgana," he said, his voice conveying compassion rather than frustration that would get him nowhere. It wasn’t only Arthur’s essence guiding his voice. Vin had taught him how to defuse tense situations, as well, hoping to keep him from ever again resorting to violence. "I understand your pain. I can see how much you're hurting, how desperately you want something—anything—to fill the void that Mordred's loss has created. Making demands won't bring him back. Mocking me won't ease your grief."
The gentle words deflated some of Morgana's aggressive posture. Her claws retracted slightly, and her scales began to return to their normal coloration. For a moment, Thomas thought he might have reached through her anger to the genuine anguish beneath, but then her expression hardened again. Pride and fury reasserted their hold on her emotions. "You presume to lecture me about grief?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet. "You, who has known loss for mere hours compared to my decades of sacrifice? Don't mistake your control of Arthur’s essence for wisdom, Sir Dragon."
She straightened to her full height, every inch the imperial monarch despite her current circumstances. "I won't be talked down to by a child who stumbled into Arthur's legacy by accident. Give me what I'm owed, or I'll take it."
The threat hung in the laboratory's air like a toxic cloud. Thomas refused to take her bait, facing her fury without flinching. He remained still, his expression showing understanding rather than anger, his voice carrying peace instead of confrontation.
"I won't fight you, Morgana," he said quietly. "You're in pain, and you're lashing out because it feels better than facing the emptiness inside, but threatening me won't change what happened. It won't bring Mordred back.”
The unexpected response robbed Morgana of her momentum. She had prepared for argument, for conflict, for the kind of power struggle common among Draconite that had defined her rule for decades. Thomas' refusal to engage on those terms left her disarmed.
"You're insufferable," she said finally, her voice lacking its earlier venom. "Sanctimonious, naive and condescending. I should…I shou…”
Morgana trailed off, staring at him for a long moment, searching his face for some sign of the weakness or selfishness she expected. When she found only genuine compassion backed by unshakeable resolve, something broke inside her.
Without another word, she turned and stalked out of the laboratory. Thomas watched her go, grateful for her retreat.
She's returning to her quarters, Merlin informed him.
Thomas sighed heavily. Thank you, Merlin. He returned his attention to Krythis as the laboratory's tension eased.
The engineer had remained silent during his confrontation with Morgana, but his expression showed the same clear relief at her departure. "She came in demanding her crown and stones as if I had no intention of ever returning them to her," Krythis said, eyeing them, "though I must admit, our lives would be considerably easier if we did keep them.”
The suggestion carried obvious appeal. The surviving soul stones in Morgana’s crown represented significant magical power, and keeping them from Morgana would limit her ability to cause future harm, but Thomas refused to entertain the thought.
"Honor isn't always convenient," Thomas replied. "The moment we betray ours because it's easier than doing what's right, we become the very thing we just fought so hard to stop.”
Krythis's expression showed surprising though reluctant agreement. "You're right, of course. But we could save a lot of lives by taking the easy path. At what point does the equation balance out?”
“Never,” Thomas replied without hesitation. ”We dishonor any lives lost by suggesting otherwise.”
It was a harsh rebuke. Harsher than Thomas intended. He could sense his passion merging with Arthur’s on the topic. And another as well. He knew as certainly as he was standing here that Lancelot would agree with him. So might the Red Knight, for that matter.
Krythis didn’t grow angry. He smiled and nodded approvingly. “Now you sound like I always imagined Arthur would.”
“I know,” Thomas replied, “but that’s not coming from his essence within me. That’s coming from me.”
“That’s why you’re the captain of this ship.”
Thomas motioned to the cracked soul stones. “What happened to them, anyway?”
Krythis sighed. “It’s Morgana’s fault, really, though I wasn’t about to go that far in the argument. I might have ended up without my head. She’s been gathering magic in her stones since she became Queen of Avalon. To put it in simple terms, she overcharged those four. It weakened their crystalline structure, and when the energy was released…”
“...they cracked,” Thomas finished for him.
“Precisely,” Krythis replied. He sighed again, shaking his head. “You aren’t going to give her your soul stones, are you, Sir Dragon?”
“No,” Thomas answered. “She has no claim to them. She knew the risks. She can’t just decide she couldn’t live with those risks after the fact.”
“What if she resorts to violence?”
“If she’s stupid enough to try, she’ll be dealt with,” Thomas answered, resting his hand on the pommel of Cindlar’s Blade. “Though I can’t promise her grief won’t make her that dumb.”
“It would be better for everyone if it did, I suppose.” He paused, as if enjoying the thought of Thomas running her through. “What happens next? Where do we go from here?"
“First, we need to navigate out through the Corridor,” he answered. “I haven’t gotten much further than that. I just want to get us out of this system and back to friendly space. Which reminds me, I need to relieve Gareth from command. He's been on the flight deck since we left Kheir-Lossan. You should get some rest, too, along with the rest of your team.”
“I will,” Krythis promised. He laughed softly. “The funny thing is, I was here because I was trying to determine what happened to the soul stones myself. If I had simply gone to bed, I could have avoided the unpleasantness.”
“You have a lot of reasons to hate Morgana,” Thomas said. “I commend your relative calm.”
Krythis laughed harder. “I prefer myself with a head, Captain,” he answered. “It’s truly as simple as that.”
Thomas allowed himself a smile before turning and exiting the lab. Merlin, he said as he headed for the teleportal up to the flight deck on level three. I need your humanoid GOLEM to stand guard over the lab, in case Morgana decides to cause trouble.
Of course, my boy, though I should point out that such measures might create additional tensions with our...distinguished guest.
I know. Too bad. This is my ship. I won’t allow her to run amok on it. The decision felt uncomfortable, like a betrayal of the trust he wanted to extend toward someone who had ultimately honored their agreement, but Arthur's essence reminded him that wisdom sometimes required protecting people from their own worst impulses.
Three days to civilization. If he was lucky, Morgana would spend all of them in her quarters.
He could only hope.
CHAPTER 2
Thomas adjusted his stance in Excalibur’s cramped cargo hold, looking out over the assembly pressed together in the confined space. The memorial service for Taliesin had drawn nearly everyone aboard Excalibur except for Gareth and Brennan, who remained on the flight deck maintaining their course through the Blackveil Corridor. Even Frambur had squeezed his massive frame into the back corner, the ogre's features solemn with respect for a man he had never known.
