It may not have been bad policy to allow crime to consolidate in one area of the country. Unfortunately, the council members who imprisoned me in the Glacier did not have good government in mind when they gave complete control over that volcano to those women, the Others. Yes, I’m sure you’ve met them by now. I’ll elaborate in a moment. But first, understand this:
That demon and his worshippers are squatters. They have no claim on Bloodstone. They were given dominion over that volcano in a pact with “my” Council, in exchange for chaining me to the Glacier and to youth—to powerlessness.
In other words, their only authority is my captivity. I intend to break both.
The black matter has continued to expand, spreading from village to village. It has begun whispering to the people it finds. You remember the sample we brought through? It spoke to me last night. It never did that before. The Others are getting bolder.
I do not like what the black matter said.
I no longer care about the nature of the black matter or the Volcano. I have a servant with the power to simply remove it and I am, as is my obligation as Queen, pressing my advantage.
My new order is this: Destroy Bloodstone. I cannot do it myself, and it is a waste of a place, populated by the worst of Lode. It is living treachery. Destroy the place and all inside: The black matter may have spoken to them all. None can be trusted. Destroy Bloodstone, remove yourself and the quill from danger, and I will do the rest.
You have seen what we can accomplish in just our short time together, Tanya. Imagine if I wasn’t confined to the Glacier. Imagine if you and I could sail around the world, reshaping it to become orderly, equitable, enlightened, organized!
Destroy Bloodstone. I enclose a list of explosive compounds. Use as many as you wish, or if you have a better idea, I defer to your judgment.
My deference is an honor, Tanya. Do not disappoint your queen.
Sincerely,
Her Royal Majesty, the Queen of Lode
This message will self-destruct upon reading.
The letter froze in Tanya’s hands and then shattered into a million, unreadable pieces.
Chapter
33
Through the skylight, Bloodstone dimmed from morning to afternoon, and finally to sunset, and Tanya was still staring at the pieces of the letter.
Tears stinging the corners of her eyes, Tanya tried hard to feel nothing. To believe in nothing but her own abilities to rewrite the world and do a better job of it than those in power had done. The Queen believed that she could do this, and she was asking something of Tanya—not asking, presenting it as necessary. The Queen had never been wrong before. They had that in common.
When Tanya was small, Froud had given her what she needed: a way to be important and thus, a way to be safe. He had given her a tavern. Ever since then, she hadn’t relied on anyone else for anything.
But Froud was dead. Her tavern was standing empty. Now there was just the Queen. And the Queen wanted her to rule.
But she would have to crush people first.
A sharp knock sounded above her head. Tanya looked up and, scraping ice off her lap, jumped to her feet.
Jana was splayed across the skylight, knocking to come in.
“Hang on!” called Tanya through the glass. She upturned a laundry hamper she found in the wardrobe and clambered on top.
She put her hand on the glass. There were no latches to lift or locks to pick. Jana moved her hand so that it was covering her own and Tanya met her eyes. She removed her hand and the quill slid into her fingers.
A minute later, the glass vanished and Jana tumbled through the skylight into Tanya’s arms. Together they toppled sideways off the hamper and landed, limbs tangled together, on the floor.
“Are you sure you don’t want to join my gang?” asked Jana, propping herself up on her elbows to peer upward. “Because I don’t think anyone’s ever broken into the Witch—at least not anyone who’s lived to tell about it.”
“I guess you’d better be careful then.”
Jana grinned and reached out a hand. Tanya took it and they pulled each other to their feet. “Don’t you worry about me,” Jana told her. “Whatever else happens to me, I know one thing: I’m gonna live.”
Jana’s hand, still clasped between Tanya’s own, suddenly felt cold. “You don’t know that, Jana. You can’t know that.” Tanya let go of her hands and took a step back. “You obviously have something you want to say to me. You went through enough effort.”
“Tanya!” Jana closed the gap between them and picked up her hands again. “No one’s seen you all day.”
“And you were worried?” Tanya snapped. “I thought I had disgusted you with my blood magic and you wanted nothing to do with me.”
Jana took another step closer, their faces close enough to feel each other breathe in and out. “That’s not quite how I remember it,” she said softly.
Tanya looked away and Jana finally dropped her hands. When she spoke again, her voice was hard and light—brittle. “Darrow said it’s true. You work for the Queen. More than work for her, he made it seem like.”
Tanya looked at her sharply. “It’s not like that. I’m her private secretary.”
“Oh?” Jana turned and began to pace the room, flicking her knife in and out of its sheath. She just needs her hands to look busy, Tanya realized. She’s nervous.
She should be.
“How did the Queen of Lode come to make a tavern wench her private secretary?” she asked, her fingers still rapping her knife. “That sounds like a real job—the kind nobles from fancy families go to fancy schools to fight each other for.”
Tanya didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. “The Queen doesn’t care about money or family. She only cares about whether you’re useful to her. She’s pure that way.” Tanya watched her pace. “Did you come here to ask about the Queen?”
Jana stood in front of the bed and looked at the hole in the ceiling.
“Is she nice? The Queen, I mean. Do you like her?”
Tanya looked at the killer in front of her. “The Queen would like you,” she said. Jana turned slightly. “You’re unusual and unusually talented. The Queen likes that.
“The Queen loves Lode. The Queen is not frightened of power. She feels it’s her obligation to use all the power she has, all the time, and to always be growing her power. She’s ruthless and relentless. I think she may be a little insane.
“I like her very much.”
Jana didn’t move. Tanya stepped toward her and touched her on the shoulder. At that touch, Jana whirled around, her knife out.
“Hey,” said Tanya, putting her hands up. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to hurt you. Jana? Oh . . .” Jana looked up finally and Tanya could see that she was crying. “Jana . . . it’s not like that with the Queen . . .”
“You think I’m jealous of the Queen?” Jana shoved her. “I don’t get jealous, Tanya. If I want something, I take it. That’s why I’m here.”
Tanya raised an eyebrow. “First, please don’t make a habit of shoving me. I don’t enjoy it. Second, if you think I’m as easily kidnapped as I once was, I have very bad news for you.”
Jana grabbed her face so quickly Tanya gasped. “I don’t want to kidnap you, stupid girl,” she hissed. “I want you to stop doing whatever it is you’re here to do and let me take you far away from Bloodstone and that volcano. I want to save you.”
Tanya grabbed her face right back. “I. Don’t. Need. Anyone. To. Save. Me,” she whispered fiercely. “Do you understand that? I don’t need anyone and I don’t need you.”
Jana lifted her chin. “You can’t stop me from saving you,” she said. “I’m too strong.”
Tanya kissed her then, hard, crushing her mouth against hers. Jana, the athlete, went limp and Tanya pressed her against the door.
When Tanya broke away, both girls were breathing hard, and explosions were going off behind her eyes.
“You’re not going to ma
ke me leave you here,” Jana breathed, pressing her forehead against Tanya’s. “You heard the Volcano witches, right? That black gunk is coming for you, Tanya. Blood calls to blood.”
Tanya froze. She let go of Jana’s face.
“Say that again,” she said slowly.
Jana screwed up her face in confusion. “Blood calls to blood? Why are you smiling?”
Grinning, Tanya threw open the door. “Because I was right. I don’t need any of you,” she told Jana. “Not even the Queen. I can fix this myself.”
Jana scrambled after her. “You can’t do everything alone,” she yelled. “You can’t be dumb enough to think that.”
“Oh yes I can,” Tanya retorted. “I always have, haven’t I?”
“And how has that worked out for you?” asked Jana, her arms out in appeal. “Are you where you want to be?”
The Witch rocked on its eaves, pitching Jana and Tanya down the corridor, a rolling roar from below groaning through every corner, roiling the footing. There was a shocked silence throughout the building and then shouting and then the rumbling ceased.
Jana and Tanya shot each other a glance before pushing their way into the tavern.
Carefully organized chaos was the Witch’s natural state, but nothing about the scene Tanya saw looked planned. Spilled stew splashed over the bar, dripping onto the floor, tables were askew or overturned, glasses smashed, and the well-prepared maids were nowhere to be found. Patrons were rubbing knocked skulls and bruised elbows, exclaiming loudly.
And there, in the very back of the room, along where the southern and western walls met, Tanya saw a pool of black sludge condensing, expanding, and finally, inexorably, trickling down to the floor.
Tanya set her mind grimly. It was either do what needed to be done, or blow up the Witch.
She bolted from Jana, shoving her way through the throng. She needed to get out of the Witch, get somewhere she could plan.
It was full night in Bloodstone and the sky was lit up with colorful fireworks—signals or maybe warnings of what may have felt like an ordinary earthquake to ordinary people. Tanya knew better.
She made her way to the stable—the one building with no lights in the window. The one where just maybe she could work in peace.
She conjured a small ball of flame to light her way and slid open the stable door. Once she had closed it securely behind her, a sharp kick on her back sent her to her knees, setting the stable floor alight.
“Hey!” she cried, quickly conjuring water to douse the flames. Rubbing her sore back, she turned and faced her attacker from the floor. “Was that completely necessary?”
A sneering humph and flick of a tail was her only answer.
Tanya stood up, her hand still on her back. “People literally die from being kicked by a horse, you know,” she addressed the mare. The mare rolled her eyes and stamped one foot hard enough to send straw flying six feet in all directions. Tanya rolled her eyes back. “Fine. Maybe,” she admitted, advancing to the mare, “I deserved a tiny kick—just a tiny one, mind you—for taking you to that volcano. But we’re even now, you hear?” The mare simply turned her head, presenting her backside.
Tanya laughed. “Very elegant,” she said. “Are you sure your Rollo’s a lord?” She pulled out a little notebook—one of many she’d had sewn into all her skirts—and palmed the quill.
She wrote: Map me the Volcano of Bloodstone, including the current location of the temple room. Keep updating if it moves.
The lines began to squiggle and churn. As Tanya waited, she addressed the horse again. “Honestly, horse, I don’t know what you see in Rollo.” The mare whirled and bopped her hand hard, her eyes flashing furiously. “Fine, he made a very good feather, but that’s really it.”
Before the mare could answer, Tanya was hit from behind by something small, sharp, fast, and strong enough to knock her to the ground, sending the mare scampering.
While Tanya lay on her back, the small object exploded into a full-grown person and ground Tanya’s face into stable floor.
“You are such an amateur,” hissed an enraged, reedy, familiar voice.
“Rollo!” Tanya struggled, pinned beneath his moderate weight. “Get off me!” He grasped at her arm, painfully pinching her skin, trying to peel off the quill. “That’s not going to work—stop it!”
She wrenched one arm free and elbowed him in the ribs. He yelped and toppled off her. Snapping her fingers, she scrambled to her feet, the quill in her outstretched fingers by the time she was fully upright.
But Rollo had moved as fast as she had and the two stood off, both in a fighting stance—her with her quill and him with his wand, both of them with their rage.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she seethed. “You work for the Queen, Rollo! You can’t attack her secretary just because she stole your toy!”
“It’s not a toy!” yelled Rollo. “And as for your precious Queen—you know what, don’t move.” He drew a few quick figures in the air with his wand and suddenly Tanya, who had started to run for the door, felt newly formed ropes of straw wriggle up from the stable floor and wrap themselves around her ankles, knocking her to the ground. “Some of us don’t need to steal other people’s work in order to use aetheric manipulation.”
Tanya stuck the quill in her wrist and knocked him over with wind. “And some of us wouldn’t try to stop someone who uses their hands to perform aetherical manipulation by knocking out their feet,” she yelled at him, still struggling to sit upright. “What about the Queen?”
Rollo scrambled back up, his eyes blazing. The mare whinnied softly, soothingly, but Rollo was too angry to hear her.
“The Queen, your accomplice in being a bloody dabbler, has begun plans to raze any villages she’s decided are contaminated by the sludge. Already, she’s destroyed the three villages closest to Bloodstone. She’s burning them to the ground. There have been no warnings, no evacuation orders. The sludge has been talking to her. She’s convinced that if a town is contaminated, the townsfolk will be, too. She’s starting a war against her own people!”
“Yeah, I’m aware of this, Rollo!” shouted Tanya, struggling to free her feet.
Rollo’s grip tightened on his wand. “You were? How could you . . . how dare you—?”
“I didn’t know that she’d already started,” said Tanya, fumbling with the straw, trying to think of a material that would cut them off of her. “But I am on top of it, Rollo, if you would just get out of my way . . .”
An enormous cracking sound filled the air and it was if the world turned sideways. The ground rumbled, sending Tanya sliding across the stable floor and crashing into Rollo. An explosion rocked the air and the screaming sounds of Bloodstone at night reached a fever pitch.
Tanya looked furiously at Rollo. “Untie me,” she ordered. Wordlessly, he sliced through the air with his wand and the ropes unraveled at her feet. She grappled upright, her footing slipping with the plunging ground and, with her arms spread out for balance, made her way outside.
The fog of Bloodstone was illuminated with a sickly red light, the night air looking as though it was filled with atomized blood. Sharp bolts of acid-green light shuddered across the sky.
Somebody screamed and a deep crack split the main thoroughfare in two. A groaning, then a whispering, filled the air, and the two halves of Bloodstone bulged, peaked, and slid, forming a million more tiny cracks. Thick black sludge poured out.
Tanya looked toward the Volcano and saw a single funnel of the stuff pouring straight into the air from the peak of the temple.
She turned furiously to Rollo and saw that he was looking just as furiously at her.
“Now look what you’ve done!” she shouted at him. “The longer I wait to fix this, the more there will be to fix! You arrogant, spoiled boy—you’ve wasted my time!”
“I’ve wasted your time?” he cried back. “I spent years studying aetheric manipulation and how to channel it and you’ve done nothing but pervert my work. And now,
when faced with a new threat, when we need new tools the most, the best chance we have is useless because of an ignorant, meddling little nothing of a wench.” He grabbed her wrist. “Give me my quill back and let me fix it.”
“Hey!” someone shouted. Tanya whirled and saw Jana standing next to Riley and Darrow, eyes blazing. “I shot you once, kitten, and I’ll do it again if you don’t let go of her before I finish this sentence.”
“What did I say, Jana?” Tanya wrenched her own wrist away. “I don’t need your protection. Certainly not from him.” Another explosion sent the ground quaking and Tanya made her way toward the trio. “Darrow, I order you to get me somewhere quiet.”
“That . . . might be difficult, miss.”
“Difficult?” Riley laughed and it was then that Tanya noticed he and Darrow were holding hands. “Look around, Tanya. Bloodstone’s never quiet, but I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Get me a table, at least. I need to work.”
“What kind of work?” She turned to see the newcomer. Greer’s hair was wild and his eyes drawn, as if he’d been rudely awakened. Which, Tanya thought, was likely.
But recently awakened or not, he was looking at Tanya with alert eyes.
“What kind of work do you need to do now, Tanya? In all this?” he asked, gesturing around the chaos. “What can’t wait?”
He knows, Tanya thought with a sudden stab of panic, and then forced the pangs down. She was under orders from the Queen to stop the sludge, using whatever method she deemed fit. This was her job.
She met his eyes stubbornly. He gulped.
“What?” asked Rollo warily. “What’s she going to do?” He looked at Tanya, saw her set jaw. “No,” he said. “Not even you would be so reckless.”
“It’s not reckless,” Tanya insisted. “I did it with the Glacier ice, I can do it with this.”
Wench Page 32
