Queen of Monsters and Madness

by Frost Kay

  “I need you to start to pull the collar away from her neck where it overlaps. It should break where I’ve been sawing.”

  Her papa shuffled to her side and began to delicately pry the shackle away from Sage’s throat. Lilja’s lips pursed, the only sign the metal was pressing uncomfortably into her fingers.

  “That’s it,” Mira encouraged as the metal began to groan. “Just a little further, steady now.”

  No sooner had the words come from her mouth when the collar snapped, and one side gouged into Sage’s neck.

  “Damn it.” Jacob pulled the offending metal from her neck.

  Mira snatched a towel from the table and pressed it against the heavily-bleeding wound. “We need a poultice to pack it.” She lifted the edge of the towel and peeked at the cut. “It’s bleeding too much to stitch it now.”

  Her papa dropped the thorny chunk into Gwen’s hands and swiftly moved to his herbs. For some reason, she couldn’t pull her gaze from the collar lying on Gwen’s palms. What kind of human being did that to another?

  “He’s not human,” Lilja murmured.

  Mira blinked, and then realized she had said that out loud. “On that, we can agree,” she growled, glancing down to the crimson soaking through her towel. She frowned. That seemed like too much blood for the wound.

  She lifted the edge of the towel and cursed. Not only had the metal cut Sage, but it had sliced Lilja across her fingers. She glanced up at the woman next to her. Lilja looked like she could be having tea, her expression was so calm. She stared at Sage’s aunt, and a random thought passed through her mind: she’d never play cards with the woman.

  “Papa,” she called. “Make some for Lilja. She’s been cut, too.”

  Lilja shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll heal.”

  Jacob moved to her side with a poultice. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “On the count of three. One, two, three!”

  Mira pulled the towel out of the way and switched places with her father as he pressed the poultice to Sage’s wound. He glanced at her and jerked his chin toward the tweezers. “Why don’t you start on the other side? We won’t be able to do the same thing. It’s much more embedded on her right side.”

  She nodded, feeling sick. Gwen shuffled out of her way but never looked away from what she held in her hands. It seemed Mira wasn’t the only one morbidly fascinated with the crown. She plucked her tool from the table and sucked in a deep breath to fortify herself. She could do this. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before.

  Mira’s stomach lurched painfully as she pulled the skin from around the metal. Gwen choked beside her.

  “Gwen, I know you want to be here for Sage, but if you can’t keep it together, you need to leave,” Jacob said softly.

  “I can do it,” Gwen panted. “I’m not leaving my little girl.”

  “Then, take a deep breath, and, good hell, destroy that piece of trash.”

  Mira also inhaled deeply as she carefully worked on Sage’s neck. She gritted her teeth as blood coated her fingers, causing the tweezers to move around in her hand. Quickly, she wiped her bloody hand on her apron and began her work anew.

  From strictly a healing point of view, she was interested in how clean the damaged skin was. Normally, there would have been pus and infection, but there was nothing. What had they used to keep her neck clean?

  She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself calm. They had kept the collar clean but allowed her skin to grow around it. It was disgusting and inhuman.

  A sigh of relief escaped her when she’d finally detached the last piece of skin. “I’m done,” she whispered.

  “Good,” her papa said, glancing at her over his spectacles. “You grab your side, and I’ll pull on this end, near Lilja’s fingers.”

  She did what he asked and bile burned her throat as the thorny collar pulled away, somewhat stubbornly. Jacob cursed when it refused to budge in the very middle. He tugged lightly, causing the skin to stretch but hold. “We’ll have to cut it away.”

  “Gwen, could you hand me the short dagger?” Mira asked, her voice hollow.

  Sage’s mum plucked the dagger from the table and placed it in her hand. She swallowed and held the collar from Sage’s neck to cut away the attached flesh. Mira choked on bile as she cut away the metal. Jacob pulled away the collar, and she had to fight to not cast up the contents of her stomach.

  Her friend’s neck was a bloody mess, but that’s not what bothered her. She dabbed at the blood, her stomach curling on itself. It was the impressions of thorns and roses carved into Sage’s neck.

  “Dear God,” Gwen whispered. “My poor baby.”

  Lilja said curse words that normally would have had Mira scowling, but they somehow felt insignificant for what she was feeling. Woodenly, Mira placed the bloody dagger into the bowl of warm water and stood on numb legs.

  Her papa bustled her out of the way and began to treat and dress Sage’s wound. As if in a trance, she dressed Lilja’s hand. All the while, Lilja watched her, but it didn’t bother her. She couldn’t feel anything.

  Mira spun and forced herself to the wash basin. She dipped her scarlet-covered hands into the water and watched, detached, as the clear water battled with the blood and eventually lost, turning to a crimson pool of cruelty. For that’s what it was. Mira was washing cruelty and depravity from her skin.

  Rage unlike she’d ever known flooded her. This was not what the world was supposed to be like. Sure, she’d seen horrific things happen over the years as she trained to be a healer, but none of them had been this sadistic.

  Something ugly formed in her heart. She’d never been one to take revenge, but there would be an accounting for what her friend had suffered. She wasn’t a warrior in the truest sense, but make no mistake, when the time came to yank that bastard from the Scythian throne and destroy him, Mira would be there to witness him gasping his last breath, all the while laughing. And she’d make sure his lifeless body was left on the godforsaken battleground.

  Monsters deserved to die like animals. Alone. Forgotten. Desecrated.

  Sage

  Everything hurt.

  She was bloody tired of waking to everything hurting, but, this time, a smile touched her mouth. Pain meant she was alive—battered and bruised, but alive.

  For how long? a hideous voice whispered in her head.

  Her breath hitched as she battled the fear that threatened to swallow her whole. She was out of the warlord’s grip. He couldn’t get her now.

  Sage shifted, her fingertips grazing soft fur on her right. Carefully, she cracked one eyelid and then pressed her face into Nali’s silky fur. “Nali,” she croaked.

  A purr greeted her, rumbling through her body.

  A voice cried out behind her, and a hand brushed along her arm.

  “Sage?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. She’d know that voice anywhere. “Mum?” she replied, her voice catching on the word.

  Slowly, she turned to the left, praying she wasn’t dreaming. Words failed her as her mum’s beautiful hazel eyes locked on hers. Surely it wasn’t possible to create an illusion so beautiful?

  It seemed impossible that her mum was here with her, but she couldn’t help the hope that unfurled inside her chest like a flower in the sun. “Please, tell me you’re real?” she said.

  “Oh, baby girl!” her mum cried, tears tracking down her face. “I’m real. I’m here, love.” Her mum brushed her hair from her face and peppered her forehead with kisses.

  “I’m home?” It didn’t seem real.

  “You’re home,” a deep voice echoed.

  Sage pried her eyes from her mum’s dear face and glanced behind her. Pain washed over her at the little movement, but it was worth it.

  Her papa’s green eyes, so like her own, crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her and ran a hand down her hair.

  “Hello, baby girl.”

  It was too much. Sage squeezed her eyes shut, losin
g the battle with her emotions as sobs tore from her throat. It hurt just to look at them.

  Large arms curled around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace. Her lungs protested at the treatment, and pain ran up and down her arms and legs, yet she celebrated. She lived.

  “It’s okay, love. Papa has you,” he crooned, his voice thick as he rocked her from side to side.

  Sage clung to him like a little girl and wept. She’d made it home. Finally. Home. Tears dropped onto her face like rain, but she didn’t care. Her pain was shared by her family.

  “I love you,” she said.

  Her parents’ murmurs of love became a chant in her mind as she let go and surrendered to the tears. When at last they abated, her papa didn’t let her go. He whispered words of nonsense and love as her mum sang little songs quietly in the background. As Sage’s eyes drooped and fatigue hit her, terror set in. What if this was in her mind? Would they still be here when she woke up?

  “I don’t want to go to sleep,” she whispered into her papa’s wet shirt.

  “It’s okay. You need to let your body rest,” her mum answered, running a hand down the back of her head. “We’ll watch over you. Protect you.”

  “Will you still be here when I wake up?” The words were small and vulnerable, born of suffering, fear, and uncertainty. Speaking them aloud sickened her, but she needed assurance, even if it was all in her mind.

  A finger crooked underneath her chin and lifted. “Open your eyes, love.”

  She steeled herself and opened them to gaze up at her parents. Her mum leaned her head against her papa’s shoulder and caressed Sage’s face tenderly. “Nothing could tear your papa and me from your side. We’ll stay.”

  “Promise?”

  “I swear it,” her papa said gravely, hugging her more tightly to him.

  Her papa never lied to her. She released a deep sigh and rested her head against his chest, his steady heartbeat lulling her toward sleep. A small smile curled the corners of her lips as she breathed in. Fire, iron, and smoke teased her nose, a smell unique to her papa.

  No dream could replicate that.

  “Love you,” she whispered.

  “Love you most-est.” Her mum’s voice followed her into the dark and wrapped around her like the loveliest blanket on a chilly day.

  Awareness slapped her in the face.

  She jerked, her eyes snapping open. Her heart pounded as she scanned her surroundings. Nothing made sense. Everything was white, and it was bloody hot. Where was she?

  Wait.

  White walls.

  Gleaming white walls.

  The room blurred around her. How had he gotten to her? Had she never left the Scythian palace in the first place? A whimper escaped her. When would this torture end?

  “Love?”

  Her head snapped to the side. For a moment, she couldn’t process what she saw.

  A pair of worried green eyes stared back at her. “Baby girl?”

  Recognition filled her mind. “Papa?”

  His smile was full of relief. “Yes, it’s me, baby. You’re safe.”

  Safe? She was never safe. Safety was an illusion for the naive.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  His brows furrowed. “Here?”

  “In my mind.”

  Tears gathered in his eyes as he grabbed her hand. “I’m real, love. See the truth.”

  She forced herself to examine the white walls. Her stomach rolled, but the longer she stared, the more imperfections she noticed. The color of the walls wasn’t white, but cream. Sage blinked and scanned the room. She recognized it. The infirmary. The Aermian palace. How did she get here?

  She blew out a breath, ruffling the hair hanging in her face, and tried to sort through the fragments of her mind. Her brows slanted together when she tried to move her arm. It didn’t move. She glanced to the left, and tenderness flooded her. Her mum slept, her cheek resting on the back of Sage’s hand. The poor thing looked exhausted. Surely, her imagination couldn’t conjure pain like this?

  Her skin prickled, and she glanced back to her papa. “I’m here?”

  Her papa stared at her, his eyes bloodshot. “You don’t remember?”

  Rain, crying, her mum singing. Her mind snagged on the last blurry memory. “Some.”

  He nodded, his face creased with worry. “The mind is a tricky thing.”

  That it was.

  “I’m sure you’ll have your memories back before you know it.”

  She already had her memories, ones she wished to lose. Ones that haunted her dreams. Her hand crept to her throat and she froze as her fingertips grazed gauze not metal. Gauze, not metal. The room spun, and she clung to consciousness with everything she had.

  “Did you sleep okay?”

  No, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Her papa didn’t need to know about the warlord’s presence overtaking her nightmares. “Like a rock.” She shifted carefully, pulling her arm out from underneath her mama. Tingles ran up her arm as she wiggled her fingers.

  A chuff ruffled her hair, causing her to smile. Nali. If Nali was here, this had to be real. Tears pricked her eyes. She’d made it. Truly made it. “I love you,” she said. Right then and there, she vowed to say that to anyone she cared for at any time she desired. Life was too short not to let the ones you cared for know you love them.

  “I love you, too.” She shared a smile with her papa before he glanced over her head, his smile hitching up one side of his face and making him look years younger. “She’s magnificent.”

  That wasn’t the response Nali usually gained. Most shied away from the massive feline. Sage combed her right hand through Nali’s fur, earning a rumble of pleasure from the beast. “She’s the best.” The leren had protected Sage with her life. They had forged a bond that wouldn’t ever be broken.

  Sage scanned the room. The infirmary was exactly as she remembered it. White-washed stone walls were adorned with shelves full of plants and herbs, and the roaring fire Jacob was so fond of keeping crackled, bringing comfort to her mind. A wet cough sounded to her right, alerting her to others in the room.

  Shame washed over her. She hadn’t even thought about the others. “Blaise and Jasmine? Are they okay?”

  The last time she had seen the both of them was at the river. Had they both made it?

  “Both girls made it to Aermia. Blaise was allowed to leave today. As for Jasmine…” Jacob trailed off, his lips pressing into a thin line. “She’s not well.”

  Her heart sank. Jasmine had been injured, and the water was beyond cold. Who knew how much damage that had done to her? The warlord’s face flashed through her mind, how he prowled toward her, his wet body caging hers. Her stomach lurched, and she panted as she tried to push the memory away. They’d escaped, but at what cost?

  “Sage?”

  “Help me up, please.” Her tone roused her mum, who shot up with wide eyes.

  Gwen glanced around the room before her gaze settled on Sage. “You’re awake.”

  Panic seized her lungs; everything was too confining, too small. All she could feel was the warlord’s skin pressed against her. “I need to get up.” Spots danced across her vision as hands levered her up. The room spun, and she clung to the cot, her nails digging into the canvas. He wasn’t here. He couldn’t touch her.

  But for how long…

  “Breathe, love,” her mum soothed, her hand running up and down Sage’s spine.

  She would if the fist around her lungs would let go, if the monster would let her go.

  “Look at me,” Mira’s calm voice commanded.

  Sage’s head snapped up, and her green eyes clashed with beautiful blue ones. Her friend knelt before her and reached for her hand.

  “Breathe when I do.” Mira pulled in a slow breath and released it just as slowly while Sage’s papa wrung his hands beside her.

  She tried, she really did, but she kept feeling the warlord’s hand on her skin, his heated breath on her neck, his lips g
liding across her cheek.

  Mira pinched her chin between two fingers. “You’re not there, Sage. Focus on me. You’re in the castle. Leave that place. It has no hold on you.”

  Her eyes focused on her blond friend, Mira’s words penetrating the fog in her mind. He wasn’t here. Her breath came slowly, and the panic receded.

  Sage squeezed Mira’s hand, hardly believing her friend knelt before her. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

  Tears flooded the healer’s eyes. “I always knew I’d see you again. We have too much mischief yet to cause.”

  Tears pooled in Sage’s own eyes. “Stars above, I’ve missed you.” With a choked sob, she threw herself at Mira. Her friend’s arms wrapped around her tightly.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” Mira whispered into her hair.

  “It’s so good to see your face,” Sage cried.

  Mira pulled back and laughed, wiping her tears from her cheeks with her dress sleeve. “I’m such an ugly crier. Shame on you for making me cry in the presence of others.”

  “I won’t tell anyone,” her papa remarked. A pause. “Gwen is worse.”

  Sage smiled when her mum smacked her papa’s arm and grinned up at him with adoration.

  She glanced to the right, and her smile faded as she got a good look at the patient in the cot next to her. Jasmine’s face was impossibly pale. Her honey-brown hair was soaked with sweat and clung to her head in clumps of Medusa-like strands. Black hollows marred the skin beneath her closed eyes, and harsh, struggling breaths passed her chapped, parted lips.

  “Oh, Jasmine,” she whispered. “How bad is she?”

  “She’s not well,” Mira replied.

  “That’s not a real answer.” Sage turned back to the healer. “The truth.”

  “Her injuries were serious, but it’s the sickness that’s settled in her lungs. There’s too much fluid in them. Every breath is a painful labor for her.”

  “What can be done?”

  “We’re doing everything we can. Lilja has brought me special herbs I’ve been using to ease her breathing, but now we have to wait.”