by Bowes, K T
A strange sensation began in my left forearm and I gasped as the tingle became a burn. My flesh seared and agony snaked through my elbow and upper arm as though a branding iron lay against my skin.
“What is it?” Limah reached for me as I bent double, pulling at my right arm as my fingers closed around the pain in its opposite. “Show me.”
Unable to speak for the agony which consumed my body, I panted and sank to my knees. No amount of pressing dulled the awful, throbbing pain. Fire ants raged beneath the surface of my skin, pushing their way between fat layers and epidermis until their flames burned my soul.
Limah pulled a knife from the belt of his breeches and wide-eyed, I saw the silver blade flash in my vision. When he aimed the point at my wrist, I held my breath, willing him to slit my vein open and release the creatures which must surely maraud within. “Hold her still!” he commanded and the drone’s arms secured me in place. The knife slipped between my skin and the dual cuffs of shirt and jacket. Within seconds, they flapped open to reveal my forearm.
Limah halted and I watched him falter. The look of incredulity lit his face from inside, brightening his eyes in a heady mixture of fear and wonder. His lips parted into a smile. “Estefania,” he whispered. “Look.”
My screams echoed around the cavernous ceiling of the wash room. They returned as ghoulish sounds rent from the lips of the dying. The sight struck terror into my heart. Limah cradled me like a babe as I sobbed, great racking breaths repeated by the walls as a chorus. The pain seemed too much to bear and the vision so horrible, I hoped for death.
He spoke words of life over me, drawing me back to the rocky walls of the cave despite my wish to recede into darkness. His soothing, lyrical voice offered a thread for my addled mind to cling to and I fought to hear the words framed around me.
Limah spoke of a child born to a queen and sent into exile for her own safety. Stripped of her kingdom by an invasion, the queen ruled her remnant with wisdom and secrecy, waiting for another to rise and take her place. His gentle words washed over me, revealing the illusion of my former life and laying it bare before me. As the pain receded and exhaustion claimed me, I slipped from consciousness with the hairs of his chest tickling my cheek and his voice vibrating through my head.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Queen's Cull
I woke as before. The rocky ceiling flew above me, vaulted and dark, lit by the flickering of a candle flame. I heard the crackling of a fire and sensed the heat along one side of my body. I twitched the fingers of my right hand, remembering the pain of my left and too afraid to test it for movement. The fingers shifted in obedience and I held my breath, extending my will over wrist and elbow. All muscles and tendons obeyed and the dizzying surge of relief pushed into my chest. At least one arm worked as intended.
Whispers echoed around me, an eerie passing of silken sounds and I opened my eyes. The air moved as Lily bounced into my view and her lips parted in a smile. “She lives!” she cried, far too loud for my waking ears. I winced and tried to nod. “It is I,” she said and I experienced a searing pain as her tiny index finger pressed over my painful left wrist. “Do you recognise me?” With a hiss, I dragged my arm away and she leapt back, fear in her eyes.
“Of course, I recognise you!” I spat, dragging my arm across my chest and holding it there. “You are Lily of the wash room. She of the singing and chatter. How could I forget?”
A rumble of laughter issued around me and I used my right hand to push myself into a sitting position. I blinked, finding myself in the same room I woke to on my first visit to the labyrinth. The same group surrounded me, female, with the occasional male face among them. I groaned and lay back on the hard platform.
“No, it is I,” Lily protested. Her face puckered as Hosta appeared and lifted the child onto her hip. Tears speckled in her eyes. “The mark on your arm. See. It is I.”
I let my gaze move to my forearm, the action forced and slow as I dreaded the sight. The line of bees which had faded from a greyed image to nothing in the previous weeks, had revived. Fierce and colourful, their black and amber bodies marched up my arm, raised and angry with the appearance of real creatures. Not ending at the crook of my left elbow, they surpassed their original claim and dominated the flesh of my upper arm. My shirt covered the burning sensation which told me they marched in formation across the curve of my shoulder and settled over my heart.
I lay back and closed my eyes, sending my mind to search for the culprits. The answering flutter in my breast felt unfamiliar. Not a bee, but something else. Sonora’s lazy wing stretches no longer stroked my psyche and invoked comfort, but the manic, determined vibrations made a call to war and I tasted metal on my tongue.
“She doesn’t see me.” Lily’s voice broke and I heard her sniff. “She doesn’t see the little one at the back which is I.” I squeezed my eyes tighter shut against her heartbreak and cursed my existence.
Limah’s low rumbling tones dragged me back to the cave and prevented further reluctant exploration of the new occupant of my soul. Silent and brooding, it send out a strange call for aid which felt shrouded in the dark cloak of death. “Your queen tires,” Limah soothed. “She needs food and rest.”
“But she doesn’t know me,” Lily protested. “I’m the smallest bee right behind the old drone on her wrist. I wanted her to see me.”
“She knows you for sure.” Limah lowered his voice to placate the child as other sounds betrayed the gathered crowd leaving. “You’re her favourite. But she’s travelled far and fought battles not for your ears. Help Hosta prepare her chamber and your queen will be grateful tomorrow.” I heard the warning in his tone and stiffened. When the door closed and Limah’s boots scraped the floor next to me, I opened one eye.
“Don’t tell me whom to show gratitude to,” I snarled. “I’m weary of your orders.”
Limah snorted and nudged my shoulder. “It’s called counseling and fulfills the role you gave me. Congratulations on alienating your new colony. They waited with such patience and now may rebel.”
“Patience?” I hauled my ruined sleeve over the mark to prevent it distracting me. “They used me as a slave and made it clear they thought me unwelcome. Now you expect me to bow and scrape to them for any small kindness.”
Limah shook his head and I saw amusement in his eyes. “Just as I believe you show potential, your mouth ruins any progress.”
I exhaled in a rush of indignation and then halted the tirade on my tongue. The questions burning in my head seemed more important than any rebuke which would prove wasted on Limah. “What is this mark?” I tapped the tender flesh beneath my sleeve and Limah’s brows knitted. He sat at the end of the slab and I drew my knees up to my chin.
“You always bore the mark, but only in a proxy form. Your link to Sonora gave you limited authority over her colony and thus the mark remained greyed and faint. When you became disconnected from her hive, the mark disappeared.” He reached for my fingers and pushed the flapping sleeve back with the other hand. “This represents your colony, but I’ve never seen actual apis depicted.” He pulled my wrist closer and touched a raised bee near my elbow. “See, I recognise the old drone who convinced you to stay.” He wrinkled his nose. “Intriguing.”
“Painful!” I snatched my wrist from his grasp and covered it with my sleeve, but not before the tiny rear guard raised a smile to my lips. A miniature Lily burned her image into my flesh, marching at the back of the long queue. A picture of utter trust and faith as always. I sighed and my index finger caressed the raised speck of her head. “I don’t deserve her loyalty.”
“Perhaps not.” Limah shrugged. “But time and experience may alter that.”
I felt my eyes given an involuntary roll of irritation. Where Bliss spent her life justifying my behaviour and soothing my ego, Limah barrelled through all niceties like a kitten in a china cupboard.
He slapped his knees and stood, holding out his hand. I stared at it and then at him. “We must eat,” he s
tated, his fingers forming a beckoning movement. Stubbornness reared in my chest.
“If I am the queen, I will decide when to eat.” My nostrils flared and I watched the smirk light up Limah’s face. He bowed low in mock deference.
“As you wish, my Lady. But starvation does not suit your bone structure.” He looked me up and down as he might a prize calf. “But skeletal royalty may set a trend one day.” Spinning on his heel, he strode away and I panicked, not knowing my way through the labyrinth. The thought of facing gathered groups of people alone while I fumbled my way through the cave systems like an idiot, sent me scrambling after him.
The mark on my forearm smarted and the sleeve rubbed against it, causing me to wince and squirm as I followed Limah’s broad steps. As I let out another hiss of pain, he halted and I ran into his spine. The compression of my ribs knocked the air clean from my lungs and I bent double with a groan. Without sympathy, Limah yanked my painful arm upward and in the light of a flickering torch, I saw the flash of a blade. The scream left my lips before I could stem it and his knife tore the sleeve at the shoulder. My jacket and then my shirt let go of their seams. The white fabric of the shirt dangled from Limah’s fingers like a flag and he nodded in satisfaction before casting it into the darkness of an adjoining tunnel. “Perhaps now you will stop complaining,” he muttered and I looked down at my bare arm with wide, glassy eyes.
“I can’t show this much flesh!” I cried. The frantic fingers of my other hand sought to cover the expanse of dirty pink skin and he laughed.
“Estefania, I saw you naked at your mother’s breast when you were hours old and many times since. Your exposed arm does not shock me.”
My groan of embarrassment echoed along the corridor and the muted light spared my blushes. “There are others here!” I snapped.
He gave a single nod. “So, there are. And you’re their queen, naked or otherwise.”
“I’m not naked,” I huffed under my breath as he set off walking and forced me to run to keep up. “And you lie.”
“Do I?” His chuckle followed us in diminishing waves. “How so?”
My lips quirked upward in a smirk. “Because I’m beautiful. Had you really glanced on my naked countenance, you’d be blinded.”
Limah snorted with the effort of containing his laughter. “In swaddling clothes? It’s not your best look.” I caught up to him and saw his brows knit. A troubled expression darkened his eyes. “You never looked more stunning than the night of the masked ball.” His jaw flexed and a flame ignited in my breast.
“Galveston kissed me two days later. But you already went abroad to see to your important business elsewhere.” I heard pique in my voice and it didn’t surprise me to discover I still held him responsible for my vulnerability.
He nodded. “Yes, Estefania. I came here to bring supplies to your new colony. The Wasp Lord lay claim to you on your sixteenth birthday in my absence and I feared all might be lost.” His eyes flashed a latent and dangerous darkness. “I should have been on the island and it’s a mistake I would undo if it were possible.”
“So, to rectify your error, you married me to Kuiti and sent me to the Forlornn?”
“It pained me.” Limah’s fingers fluttered over his breast and he seemed surprised to contact naked flesh there. Lifting his shirt from where it dangled at his waist, he slotted his arms into the sleeves and righted his braces. The buttons remained open and the ruffled hem flapped as he walked. He glanced at me sideways. “You must understand we had little choice. The Forlornn are warlike mercenaries, but not unreasonable men.”
“We didn’t consummate the marriage, if you’re wondering.” I made my tone haughty to cover my embarrassment.
Limah let out a hollow laugh. “My potion gave you no choice, even if you had wanted the experience.”
“I did not!” My thoughts returned to Kuiti’s death and my steps slowed. Limah turned with an enquiry in his eyes and seeing my distress, his expression clouded. “I am a widow.”
He nodded. “And for that I’m truly sorry. Kuiti’s speedy arrival on the island took us by surprise and our plans weren’t in place. Tales of your beauty strayed abroad despite our best efforts. We didn’t allow for the possibility of rumours escaping of a second sister. Of course, he wanted the eldest and thwarted our hopes for your escape.”
“How is Zinnia?” I swallowed. “When is her babe due?”
Limah pursed his lips and lowered his voice, his tone offering a soothing effect. “Everyone on the island disappeared during your stay with Vespal, Estefania. He returned too late and found you gone. I’ve had no news from there since.”
I turned my hands over and inspected my palms in the flickering light, seeing the many wounds and scratches from my futile escape. “He said I hurt Bliss, that my touch rendered her ill.”
Limah shook his head and placed his large hand over mine. His fingers locked, folding mine into a ball beneath. “It’s untrue, Este. If they met any harm, he inflicted it.” He sighed. “Disguised as Galveston, he portrayed a foolish courtier and not a Wasp Lord. I failed you and it has marred my service since. Perhaps you wish to pick another counselor.”
My gaze darted to his face and my eyes widened in horror. “No!” My protest echoed its sincerity around the tunnel walls. I lifted my other hand to grip his fingers. “You will not abandon me now.”
I groaned as a dart of pain sliced through my left arm and bee venom ignited in my veins. Whilst remaining the same diameter, the image of each bee pushed through my skin, gaining shape and form as though a real swarm marched along my flesh. Agony drove me to my knees and I saw Limah wince in sympathy as he held onto my arm. Keeping it raised above my head intensified the burn and drove me almost mad with it. “Let go!” I cried and dropped my elbow to waist level, drawing it into my body as though to absorb the pressure.
“What ails her?” The old drone’s voice cut through the white lights flickering in my head and I tuned into his presence. His steady speech brought comfort and the pain lessened to a tingle which set my teeth on edge but didn’t fell me.
“I don’t know.” I heard the confusion in Limah’s answer and hopelessness burgeoned. If the new image foxed the Bee Master, I suffered in vain. “The new mark is alive.” Limah dropped his voice to avoid the echo of his words and leaned close to the drone. “It appears linked to her authority as your queen.”
The fingers of my right hand strayed to the mark and I let them flutter over the image of Lily at the back of the swarm. Raised and complete, I felt the division of her body parts as head joined thorax and knit into abdomen. Rising from my knees, I grasped a lit torch from its wall mount and brought it close to the tiny bee. Propellant dripped from the flaming rags and narrowly missed my wrist. I heard Limah hiss. He dragged it from my hand and I smelled the acrid scent of singed hair. He tipped it with more care and bowed his head to mine in examination of my forearm.
“What do you see?” The old man pressed against me and I smelled manuka and rosemary in the air surrounding him. His glassy eyes shifted in their sockets and his fingers twitched.
Limah’s lips parted and he gave a small shake of his head. The tiny bee flickered as though alive and he gasped.
“They are real!” Amazement lit his face in wide eyes which glittered in the torch light. The old drone’s fingers grasped at air and his lips drew back in a grin to reveal pink gums. When the old man reached for my arm, I pulled it away and held it behind my back, leaving empty space where he searched.
Limah’s eyes narrowed beneath a knitted line of dark brows and I sensed his disapproval. My face drew into a pout and I brought my arm forward again. “It pains me,” I warned. I caught his fingers, waiting until they stilled before resting the index over the raised effigy of Lily. It burned and I tensed, willing myself not to cry out. The old man’s features changed as his eyes moved at a rapid speed in their sockets, the effect strange and unnatural. The gnarled face relaxed as though a great weight fell from his shoulders and I swe
ar he stood straighter.
“Thank you, my Queen.” He withdrew his finger at a slow, lingering pace, but his thumb still clasped mine. His grizzled head gave a regal bow. “I am your servant.”
“You know what this mark is?” I glanced down at Lily, her body twitching though she would never make further progress up my arm. “Am I possessed?”
Limah’s lips pursed in my peripheral vision and I sensed his overwhelming desire to laugh. Irritation prickled in my chest and I gritted my teeth to prevent my mouth taking charge. The old man inhaled and dignified my question with a reply. “No, Lady. This is the mark of your colony and the bees within your flesh are replicas of your faithful subjects.”
I grunted and rested my arm by my side. “Hosta isn’t there then.”
Limah turned away and I resisted the urge to slap the back of his head as his shoulders heaved with the effort of containing his mirth. My eyebrows furrowed. “Can you name them for me?”
“Perhaps.” Gnarled joints reached out again and despite the biting pain, I allowed the drone to coast his finger over the many bodies and list their names. Limah watched with narrowed eyes but I sensed his fascination as his gaze remained riveted on the process.
“I know not a single one except Lily,” I concluded. My lips pursed. “A few names sound familiar so perhaps their physical bodies reside here and they facilitated my imprisonment.” I gave a haughty inhale and the old man shook his head.
“Some are here. Some scattered during the swarm. Sonora will root out those who followed her in error and destroy those who followed in disobedience.”
“Oh.” The idea shocked me and my head jerked back on my neck. “Will you expect me to do likewise? To kill members of my colony?”
