The Impostor Queen

by Sarah Fine

  My mouth goes dry. “You knew about the prophecy?”

  She cries out as blistered patches rise on both her legs. Her injuries are coming from the inside out. So much magic, out of balance, tearing its vessel apart. “Can’t you do something?” I ask Kauko, forcing myself not to scream. “Help her restore the balance!”

  He shakes his head, his fleshy lips pressed together. “It’s too late, my Saadella. And too much for a humble priest. Only a Valtia could do such a thing.”

  What I need to be to save her, she must die for me to become.

  “This isn’t fair.” I lower my head to kiss the frozen skin of her wrist. “If I had the magic now, I would use all of it to make you well.”

  She squeezes my hand, but her fingers are so hot that they’re burning me. I clench my teeth and smile at her, tears streaking down my face. Her hair is haloed around her head, sections of it singed to a blackened crisp, others covered over with ice. It crunches softly as she moves. “I know the bind of it,” she says in a halting voice. “I remember the day my own Valtia died. But you will go on, Elli. I’ll always be with you, and so will all the Valtias before me. You’ll carry our magic inside you. You will never be alone.”

  I bow my head. I don’t want this. Not yet. But to deny my duty would be to fail her—and all of Kupari. “I will honor you.”

  She looks at me, her ruby eyes full of pain and love. “You already have,” she says, her voice fading to nothing.

  Her body convulses. Elder Kauko cries out and yanks me away from the bed as flames burst from her chest, spiraling high enough to reach the ceiling. I scream, unable to look away as icicles stab their way out of her belly, her back, her neck. She makes no noise, but I am made of sound. I’m a frenzied animal, lost to reason as I try to get to her. I am so certain. So certain:

  If I touch her, I can make her better.

  Kauko is crushing me, his shoulder pressed over my face, his hand cupping the back of my head. He smells of sweat and blood and failure as he holds me to the floor. I stare at the hammered copper ceiling, which reflects the inferno below, the Valtia’s arched back, arms and legs flung wide, bleeding and burning and freezing.

  Dying.

  There’s a loud hissing sound. “Let it burn out,” I hear Elder Aleksi say. “We need to take the Saadella to the Stone Chamber. We shouldn’t have waited this long.”

  Kauko’s weight lifts from me, but before I can lunge for the bed again, he and Aleksi drag me away. Sofia’s still burning, thrashing weakly. Her blood is smeared across the sheet and dripping onto the floor. The sight of her red eyes, wide open and begging for release, follows me into the antechamber. My thoughts are spinning. My body humming and buzzing. It feels like a chasm has opened inside my chest, ripping asunder what was once tightly knit. I shudder as my stomach revolts, emptying me out. Two acolytes dive for the marble floor and absorb the mess with their own robes.

  Leevi shouts orders to the apprentices and acolytes as Aleksi and Kauko carry me through the domed chamber, all the way to the back, where a stone staircase leads below. Their hands are gentle but relentless. No matter which way I twist, they won’t let me escape. My Valtia. My Valtia. I scream for her over and over again until my voice is shredded. I hear mourners calling out, but I can’t make out their words. The growing void inside draws me inward, commanding all my attention while it crashes and roars like an avalanche, carving me hollow.

  My feet skim the floor as the elders reach the bottom of the stairs. We’re in the catacombs now, the walls oozing with the essence of the Motherlake, blades of rock jutting from the floor and ceiling of the caverns and tunnels. The way is lit with torches, but it’s still a tomb, full of inky shadows that swim with secrets and age-old ritual. The elders finally pull me into a small, round chamber and set me down on a slab of smooth stone that takes up most of the room, leaving only a narrow aisle around the edge. The slab is neither cold nor hot. It feels like hard, unforgiving nothing beneath me.

  “When the magic rises within you, don’t fight it,” Kauko says, his breath sawing from his lungs, his brow sheened with sweat. “It’s seeking its new home. It won’t hurt you.”

  I kneel and look down at my hands. There’s still a faint smear of red where the Valtia’s lips touched my palm. “It killed her. It tore her apart.”

  “You cannot fear the magic!” Kauko urges. “Sofia was destroyed because she made a mistake.”

  I think of the bandages in the crook of her arms and how drawn she looked this afternoon. “Why did you bleed her? Are you sure that didn’t make her weaker instead of stronger?”

  “I had been trying to help her maintain the balance of magic in her body by draining off some of the excess,” says Kauko. “She was not the strongest Valtia we have known, and she overestimated her power today. You will be stronger. Wiser. Better.” He hesitates when I glare at him. “She was right, Saadella, when she said the stars had foretold your power. I’m not criticizing Sofia, I’m simply—”

  “Call her Valtia,” I snap. Her name on his fleshy lips is a blasphemy.

  His dark eyes are full of patience and pity, which makes me want to scream. And when he starts to talk about the prophecy again, the one that foretold my birth, the power I will control, I can’t take it.

  “Stop.” My palms slap against the stone and my head hangs. Is this how it’s supposed to feel? The red flame mark on my leg is sending waves of numbness along my limbs, all the way to my fingertips and toes.

  “It’s happening,” Aleksi whispers eagerly.

  The void inside me grows, clawing at the walls of my chest, at the soft flesh of my belly. I let out a sob. “I just want her back.” I lay my forehead on the stone as the grief eats me up.

  “You must welcome the magic,” says Kauko. “Open your arms to it. Stop fighting.”

  “I’m not fighting.” How can I? I’m just lying here as the emptiness devours me. I’m too desolate to fight.

  “You’re focused on her, and not on accepting the magic!” shouts Aleksi.

  The sudden frustration in his voice chastens me. If I am to honor her, Sofia, my Valtia, then I need to accept what she’s given me. I suck in a shaky breath. My legs are folded beneath me. My face is pressed to the stone. I spread my arms, palms up. Though I never wanted to say good-bye to her, I’ve been waiting for this day for as long as I can remember. With fear—and with eagerness. Finally I will know. Finally I will be complete, what I was always meant to be. A new Elli—no. A new person. One who is powerful. And useful. And vital. I’ll gladly take what’s left of my Valtia inside me. I’ll become someone who would make her proud. “I’m ready,” I say, my whole body trembling.

  Aleksi and Kauko murmur their approval.

  From above us comes a deep boom, and my ears pop. Aleksi and Kauko gasp. A wave of nothingness crushes me to the stone slab, so heavy that I can’t move. It forces the air from my chest. I can’t feel my legs or arms. Terror pulses in my veins as my vision goes black. My head becomes a roaring blank space. I squeeze my eyes shut. More than anything, I wish my Valtia would appear and take my hand. I wish she would tell me I’m hers, and that everything will be all right soon.

  I push the thought away. Magic. I must focus on the magic.

  I lose my grip on time.

  Tears drip from my cheeks, from the tip of my nose. But gradually, my breaths come a little easier. The noise in my mind fades, moment by moment. My limbs tingle and my lips buzz with numbness. When I’ve finally gathered the strength, I push myself up, my arms shaking. Kauko and I stare at each other. His eyes are shining.

  “It’s done,” he says, his voice tremulous. “Aleksi, call the others.”

  Aleksi disappears into the corridor, and Kauko kneels at my side. “You did well,” he says. “How do you feel?”

  I look down at my body, now in possession of a magic that can sink ships. Raise crops. Heal wounds. My heart beats in my chest, and I swear I hear it echo. Hollow, I almost say. “I—I don’t know. I feel . . . all
right?”

  His brows tent upward in puzzlement, and then a smile splits his round face as he laughs. “ ‘All right.’ You feel ‘all right.’ ” He stands up slowly, shaking his head. “Only the most powerful Valtia in all the ages would say that.”

  Seeing his mirth draws a weak smile to my lips. I rise to my knees but have to catch myself as dizziness overwhelms me. My legs feel like wooden blocks dangling from my torso. “Maybe not so all right,” I murmur.

  “You’ll need to rest for a few days. Your dreams . . . be prepared for the dreams. The ice and fire work their will while you slumber. It is a burden the most powerful wielders must bear, but as your magic finds its balance within you, they will subside.”

  “Of course. Dreams.” I rub at my temple. My head feels like it’s been stuffed with wool.

  The sound of thumping footsteps precedes a group of priests, apprentices, and acolytes. They crowd into the Stone Chamber and hover in the tunnel outside, trying to get a good look at me, offering kind smiles and bows. They’re depending on me. I sit up straighter, ignoring my echoing heartbeat, my numb legs, my tingling lips. I need to look like the queen I am.

  Aleksi pushes his way through the onlookers and kneels before me. “Are you ready to accept your fate?”

  I nod.

  He takes a carved wooden box from his apprentice. I recognize it immediately. He sets it on my stone slab and opens it, revealing the cuff of Astia. “This is your ally, your sword and shield.”

  He looks down at my right hand, and I lift my arm. It feels like a hunk of rock, but I hold it steady as Aleski fastens the cuff to my wrist. It glints in the torchlight, the same shade as my hair, deep and burnished and swirling with the bloodred runes that give it power. As soon as the clasp is in place, Aleksi releases my arm, which falls to my side.

  “From this day until you take your final breath, you are no longer Elli,” he says, getting to his feet and gesturing for me to do the same. “That name belonged to a girl, and now you are a queen.”

  It takes all my focus to get my legs to push me from the ground. I feel like a fawn taking its first steps. My arms rise from my sides to aid my balance. I draw in a breath. I am balance. Perfect balance.

  Everyone smiles as I stand steady before them. Aleksi holds out his arms, presenting me. “From this day until you take your final breath,” he continues, louder this time, “you are the Valtia!”

  I incline my head, and they clap. Kauko is grinning as one of the acolytes hands him a stout candle on a copper plate. It’s a perfect column of beeswax, never lit.

  Kauko gives me a sheepish smile. “I know it’s a small thing to ask of such profound magic, but it is our tradition. If you will, my Valtia . . . light this candle with your magic. Illuminate our way as we ascend into the temple and greet this wonderful new era.”

  I take a moment to thank Sofia for this gift of her magic, and I promise her I’ll use it well, just as she did. Then I stare at the wick, yellow and waxy. I imagine it bursting into a perfect tongue of flame.

  Nothing happens.

  I close my eyes and wait for the fire to rise within me, a jewel of golden heat to adorn the candle, to melt the wax, to . . . I open my eyes.

  “Ah,” I say in a shaky voice. “How am I supposed to do it?”

  Aleksi’s brow furrows. “It shouldn’t be difficult for you, Valtia. Unless you’re worried you’ll set us all aflame with your power?”

  There’s nervous laughter around the chamber—if the magic were out of control, that’s exactly what could happen. But my magic, the Valtia’s magic, is completely balanced, and therefore easy to control.

  Until it isn’t, whisper my thoughts. The memory of Sofia’s body being torn apart appears before my eyes. Kauko touches my arm and snaps me back to the present. “There’s no need to fear, my Valtia,” he says. “You can stop holding back. The barest passing thought will light the candle. Simply wish for flame, and it will appear.”

  I thought I’d already tried that. But I do it again, focusing hard on the torch guttering at the back of the chamber. I capture the image of fire in my mind and then stare once more at the virgin wick. My heart thuds in my hollow chest. I reach out and lift the candle from its plate, wrapping my fingers around its base and holding it up in front of me. The cuff of Astia lies heavy and comforting on my wrist. Only a few hours ago, it helped raise waterspouts from the lake and draw lightning from the sky. Lighting a candle is child’s play. I chuckle, pushing down the uncertainty rising within me. “Never doubt,” I whisper.

  Kauko smiles and returns his gaze to the wick. So do I. My stare consumes it. I call for heat to blaze at its tip, to blacken the wick, to burst into flame. I imagine the waft of warmth against my cheeks and the cheers of my new subjects. My arms begin to tremble with the strain. I clench my teeth.

  Please.

  Please catch fire.

  Please burn.

  It doesn’t.

  CHAPTER 5

  I don’t know how long I stand there before Kauko takes pity on me. He takes the candle from my stiff fingers. “My deepest apologies, Valtia,” he says, bowing his head. “You have been through so much tonight. It was selfish of us to ask you for anything before you’ve had a chance to rest.”

  His hands shake a little as he removes the cuff of Astia from my wrist and places it in the wooden box. While he gives it to his apprentice, I blink down at my empty hands, at the tiny, faint smear of lip paint on my palm. Hesitantly, I raise my head. No one speaks, no one smiles, but all of them stare.

  Aleksi’s eyes meet mine. “Clear the room!” he barks, his jowls quivering. “Our Valtia must have quiet and rest.”

  Leevi, his slender shoulders tense beneath his robe, ushers out all the apprentices and acolytes. As the last apprentice steps into the rocky corridor, I hear him whisper to a female acolyte next to him, “I can light a candle without even thinking about it.”

  The words hit like stones in a pool, sending ripples of misgiving along my limbs. “Elder,” I say in a hoarse voice. “What’s wrong with me?”

  Kauko takes my arm and helps me step off the stone slab. My stockinged feet are soaked and aching, no longer numb. In fact, my whole self hurts. I feel like I’ve been trampled by a horse. My red gown is damp and stained with sweat. Surely I’m the most bedraggled Valtia that ever was.

  “I’m sure nothing is wrong with you, my queen,” Kauko says quietly as he guides me out of the chamber and toward the steps. Aleksi mounts them ahead of us, and I wonder if he’s going up to make sure I don’t have an audience as I’m led to my bedchamber. “I think the strain of witnessing Sofia’s final moments has jarred you. It was a mistake to allow you to see her that way.” His grip on my elbow is steady and comforting as he takes me up the stairs.

  “I insisted,” I say, rubbing at my throat, raw from my cries of grief. “It wasn’t Leevi’s fault.”

  “You are generous, Valtia.” His frown is so deep that it looks like someone’s carved a divot from the corner of his nose to the edge of his jaw.

  I pull my gaze away from it, because it stirs up uneasiness within me. “I’ll rest,” I tell him. “I’m sure that in the morning, I’ll have recovered.”

  “I have no doubt.” He puts his arm around my back as we stride through the domed chamber and into the Saadella’s wing. “You’ll stay in your old bedchamber tonight while we ready the Valtia’s quarters for you.”

  While they scrub scorch marks from the ceiling and floor, while they scour her blood from the stones, while they mop up the icy water and toss the burned mattress in the refuse pile. Bile rises from my stomach. I’m not sure I could ever sleep in that room. “Will we have a funeral?”

  One of the few memories I have outside this temple is of the last Valtia’s funeral, her white body covered over with coppery gauze and bedecked with spring blooms. It was the day before I was found. My mother took me to the docks, where she lifted me in her arms so I could see between the shoulders of the other citizens who’d
come to bid the queen farewell. The dead Valtia had looked perfect and unmarred. I remember thinking she would sit up and wave as they slid her boat into the waters of the Motherlake, as it silently carried her from our shore. I remember being horrified when tongues of fire raced up the sides of the pyre to devour her.

  I remember screaming.

  I also remember the new Valtia, my Valtia, standing on her paarit at the end of the main dock, her arms raised. At the time I didn’t know that she was the one who moved the boat into the deep waters, that she was responsible for the fire. I only knew it scared me.

  “The elders will meet to discuss it,” says Kauko as we reach my wing. “There are complications.”

  My stomach convulses again. Complications. Like the fact that she was torn and burned to pieces. She could not be a pretty, peaceful corpse. For all I know, she’s nothing but a soggy pile of ash. “Oh, stars,” I moan, doubling over to retch.

  “Elli!” Mim calls down the hall. Her hands are on my waist a moment later, and she presses a dry cloth to my mouth.

  Kauko clears his throat. “You are not to call her by that name ever again, handmaiden,” he says sternly. “She’s the Valtia now. Show respect.”

  Mim steps back and bows low. “My Valtia.” Her voice reeks of tears. “Let me take you to your chamber.”

  Kauko releases me. “We’ll come for you tomorrow.” He rubs his hand over his bald head and looks me over. “You’ll be better then.”

  Mim raises her eyebrows as he turns his back and stalks toward the domed chamber. She leads me into my quarters. “Why did he say that?”

  “I can’t, Mim. Just clean me off, please?” I whisper. It’s bad enough that I couldn’t light the flame. If I have to tell her about it, I’ll shatter into a million shards of sorrow and shame. My Valtia. I put my hand on my chest. Please don’t be disappointed.

  While Mim bathes me, handling me like a living doll, I concentrate on finding the magic inside me. Is it in my gut? My heart? Deep inside my bones? Just behind my eyes? Why can’t I feel it? Why is it hiding from me? I expected it to come bubbling forth like a spring of icy water, to evaporate on my fingertips in a cloud of steam. I expected it to fill me to the brim, to make me what I always should have been, to be so thick and shimmering that I would feel nothing but confidence. But all I feel is . . . emptiness.