The Mirror King

by Jodi Meadows

  “He tried to kill you!”

  Tobiah pressed his fingers against my mouth, just thin silk between us as he tilted his head toward the bedroom door. “There are guards.” His voice was low, but demanding. “Let the Indigo Army and Order handle Lien. It’s their job.”

  I wrenched myself away from him. “You really think your men will find him?”

  He gave a deep nod; his expression betrayed only weariness. “I must believe it.”

  “How well do you trust them? Do you know all your soldiers personally? The police?” Images of police marching through Skyvale wormed into my mind: the lights in the street, the homeless hiding in shadows, the children shivering in the cold night.

  “Of course I trust them. I don’t know them all personally, but I know their superiors, and they know their men.”

  I shook my head.

  “What’s this about, Wil? What’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing.” If he’d ordered the mandatory evacuation of Greenstone, he wouldn’t appreciate what I’d done last night. “Ask your police what’s going on.”

  “Ah. What did you see?” When I didn’t respond, his tone shifted toward practiced patience, the same as a prince would use to handle a hysterical subject. “I’ve seen police abuse power, and I’ve always made sure they’re removed from their duties. That’s one of the reasons I kept on as Black Knife. I wanted to help people.”

  “And then you came back here to your palace and safety. You haven’t lived with that fear. Not really. Last night, I saved a girl from a fused wraith monster—both a lizard and a snake—and if I hadn’t been there, she would have died. There are people squatting in Greenstone, hungry and more afraid than ever, and the police won’t let them stay.”

  He opened his mouth to deny it, thought better of his words, and bowed his head. “I will investigate. Although when I do, I expect to see a report saying Black Knife made an appearance?”

  “No one saw me directly. It’ll be rumor only.”

  “I’ll deal with it.” Tobiah closed his eyes and blew out a sigh. “Teach me about this life, the one you say I don’t understand. I care about my people and I want the best for them, if it’s in my power to give it to them.”

  “Of course it’s in your power.”

  “If only that were true.” He took my shoulders, gentle but firm. “I’ll learn, but you need to learn, too. You’re going to be queen one day, and you’ll crash straight into the limits of your power if you’re not careful. I put on the mask because of those limits, and I can see you doing the same thing right now.”

  “I need this mask. They need it, too.”

  His voice turned kind, cautious. Not the prince, but not the vigilante, either. “Where is it coming from? This anger.”

  “Everywhere.”

  “It will cripple you, Wil.” He let his hands slide off my shoulders. Down my arms. “Trust me.”

  Trust me. Forgive me. He needed so much from me, and what could it accomplish except my broken heart?

  “Promise me you won’t go into the city tonight.”

  “I can’t make promises for anything that far in advance.”

  “That’s five minutes from now.”

  “I don’t know how I’ll be feeling in five minutes.”

  He closed his eyes and seemed resigned. “I suppose I wouldn’t act any differently.”

  “I have to do something. I feel disconnected staying here. Restless. Useless.” How could I explain it? “He almost ruined everything for us—our kingdoms, our ideals, our lives.” I whispered, “He tried to kill you.”

  He swallowed hard, fingers unconsciously brushing his stomach. Ghosts of pain fluttered across his face. “Take off your mask.”

  I shook my head.

  “Please. I want to see your face.”

  “And I don’t want you to.” Beneath the mask, my skin felt hot and sticky and damp.

  Tobiah caressed my cheek. “Letting other people do their jobs doesn’t mean you’re doing nothing. You have people here who need you, Wilhelmina. Your Ospreys, for example. And if you want Aecor, you’re going to need to fight for it in a new way. My uncle won’t give it up easily.”

  No. Prince Colin wouldn’t. He’d been controlling Aecor for almost ten years, doing whatever he wanted with it. He’d even sent Aecorians to fight the wraith beasts and glowmen at the edge of the wraithland—farmers and fishers and people who had no idea how to defend themselves from monsters.

  How would I persuade anyone the kingdom was mine? Let alone someone who’d gotten used to controlling it?

  I’d wanted to negotiate peacefully for my kingdom, but I didn’t even know how to begin. What use was I in the palace? In the city, I could do good. In the city, I could help people.

  “You’re going to be a queen,” said Tobiah. “At some point, you’ll have to accept that you can’t personally take charge of everything. You’ll have to trust people to work for you.”

  “I trusted Patrick.”

  “A difficult lesson. You’ll be more careful next time.”

  “My Ospreys are looking into changes for the Wraith Alliance, and Melanie is spying on Patrick for me.”

  He offered a faint smile. “That’s a good start, Wilhelmina.” With a deep sigh, he stepped away from me, like distance could snap our tense connection. “Why don’t you sit? You can be comfortable and surly at the same time.” He dragged out his desk chair to face me.

  “And you’ll be in your nightclothes for our whole argument?”

  “I’d protect my modesty, but I’m afraid you’d flee while I was indecent in the dressing room.”

  There would be no imagining Tobiah indecent in the dressing room. Not from me. “I don’t flee. I evade.”

  “Call it what you want.”

  “Thank you for the invitation to argue, but your diversionary tactics won’t work on me. Patrick or no, there’s work for Black Knife in the city.”

  There was no denying that.

  “You could come with me,” I said. “Unless—Does it still hurt?”

  Eyebrows drawn inward, he pressed his palm to his stomach. “It feels like it should hurt.”

  I stopped myself before reaching to press my palm atop his.

  “I need to prepare for the memorial and coronation. But I will join you sometime. I promise.” His eyes locked with mine. “I miss Black Knife.”

  “Me too.”

  TEN

  PRIOR TO KING Terrell’s memorial, Theresa arrived at my quarters to prepare for the ceremony. I donned one of the splendid gowns the late king had commissioned for me. It had been part of his plan to marry Melanie and me to some lucky noblemen from the Indigo Kingdom and fulfill his obligation as our guardian. He’d done his best, truly.

  The entry hall was packed with people waiting for their carriages. A few people glanced my way as Theresa and I arrived, with Sergeant Ferris in tow.

  The other Ospreys hovered around the far edges of the hall, shifting uncomfortably in their suits. When Connor spotted me, he straightened and nudged the others, and all three boys grinned as they moved to join us. “Wil! Rees!” As if they hadn’t seen us in weeks, rather than hours.

  The display drew curious looks, which none of them noticed.

  “Took you long enough to get ready.” Carl’s pockets hung heavily at his hips. Later, I’d have to find the owners of whatever he’d stolen, and have everything returned discreetly.

  “This way, Your Highness.” A footman signaled our carriage’s arrival, and I pulled my lacy shawl tight as our group snaked through the room.

  Our carriage was white with red trim, and spread-winged ospreys painted across the top. Tobiah’s doing, no doubt.

  The interior was crowded, but the journey was mostly pleasant, with the boys admiring a clock installed in one of the doors. Carl and Kevin held a whispered debate over what was worth more: the gold clock hands, or the gear mechanisms in the back.

  I reached across them and drew the curtains over the windows
. Although it was unlikely we’d be threatened during the journey through Hawksbill, I didn’t want my rowdy companions to draw too much attention. The bright birds on the carriage already singled us out.

  If Melanie had been here, she’d have filled the ride with polite talk and charm. As it was, Kevin asked questions about which nobles lived in which mansions, and Sergeant Ferris—perhaps unwisely—told him about fortunes made by inheritance, entrepreneurship, and scandal.

  The sun touched the horizon just as we reached the Cathedral of the Solemn Hour, an immense pre-wraith building of sparkling white stone. It boasted three square towers, innumerable arches, and hollow places where there used to be windows. Those had been blown out the night of the Inundation, and not yet repaired with emergency shipments of glass from nearby towns and cities, like the palace and several Hawksbill homes. Now the empty frames looked like eye sockets. Blind, but always watching.

  Our carriage pulled up the long drive, past gardens and statues and fountains. An enormous line of people waited at one side of the drive, some standing, but most sitting. Police officers paced the line, keeping people from spilling into the carriages’ path, but as we rolled by, voices lifted. Just before the curtains fell shut, I caught glimpses of people pointing at us.

  “They’ll be admitted later,” said Ferris. “Once all the nobility is seated.”

  “They look like they’ve been there all day.” Connor slumped in his seat. No one needed to confirm it.

  The carriage halted and the door was opened. Sergeant Ferris climbed out first, wearing a hard scowl as he touched the sword at his hip. He gave a wary look around, then motioned for the others to emerge. Connor, Carl, Kevin, and Theresa. Once they were out, I scooted toward the door.

  The thunder of voices crescendoed as the line of people waiting to enter the cathedral watched me emerge from the carriage. Their cries slowly shifted into a recognizable chant.

  “Wraith queen! Flasher queen! Wraith queen!”

  A few chanted “Black Knife!” instead, but they were the minority. Most shoved their fists into the air.

  The Ospreys surrounded me, while Sergeant Ferris took the rear as we walked up the steps, past the first groups of people. Their chanting continued, and several reached out as though to touch me.

  My heart thrummed and my hands slipped to my hips for daggers, but all I felt was silk and wool. I breathed through a surge of panic. Even unarmed, I could defend myself. There was nothing to be afraid of.

  The police inserted themselves between the crowd and me, brandishing short swords and batons. It killed me not to look over my shoulder as I ascended the wide staircase, but I forced myself to remain tall and face forward, as though I trusted the police to protect me.

  “Wow.” Connor brushed my hand as we climbed the last stairs. “They really don’t like you.”

  “They’re punishing me for the Inundation.”

  “But you didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  I squeezed his hand. “My intentions of learning about Mirror Lake were noble, but my choices in the wraithland were unwise. My choices led to the Inundation. I didn’t want people to get hurt, but they did anyway.”

  And now the wraith was closer than ever. Already in the Indigo Kingdom.

  “You could tell them what happened?”

  “I think that would make it worse.” I shushed more questions. This wasn’t the time.

  Though the cathedral was massive, there was but one door in the front, and it was tall and narrow—so narrow we had to enter in single file. Every sound from the outside became muffled as soon as I crossed the threshold. The entrance hall was just as majestic as the exterior, with gilt friezes and marble statues of unnaturally tall saints; they rose up the walls, praying over the people passing beneath them.

  Small alcoves and drops of shadow hung to the sides, but a silver light shone ahead, keeping my attention as I led the others. The Ospreys’ gasps and exclamations of awe were music nipping at my heels.

  At the end of the hall, a white-robed figure ushered us around a corner, where others waited to direct us into the sanctuary in the center of the building.

  An immense chamber opened before me, lit by great chandeliers. Hundreds of benches sat in rows on the main floor, with thousands more in tiers along the sides and on balconies. Columns created aisles down several series of steps with long landings, all leading to a dais in the center. There was nothing on it but a shallow pool guarded by a low, gold rail.

  The benches in the front were already filled with the king’s family and closest companions. The queen stood near the dais, statuesque in her floor-length gown. Nearby, Tobiah held his hands behind his back and his shoulders squared. Dark hair hid his downturned eyes as he spoke with Lady Meredith, though whatever they said was too soft and obscured to hear over the echoing footfalls and other voices.

  She reached for his hands in a comforting gesture that seemed to have little effect. The king was dead. His father was dead. And tonight there would be no forgetting it.

  I was halfway down the stairs when Tobiah glanced up and found me watching him. Even from this distance I couldn’t miss the naked ache in his gaze. Not a crown prince. Not a vigilante. Just a boy who’d lost his father and might face the rest of his life in a spiral of questions: What if he’d been there? What if they hadn’t argued that night? What if . . .

  Our gazes held for another moment before Meredith twisted in her seat to see what had distracted him. My name took shape on her lips.

  Another face turned up, this one with a scowl. Lady Chey said something, drawing Tobiah’s and Meredith’s attention.

  Theresa leaned close and kept her voice low as we continued down the stairs. “What was that?”

  “You know all about Chey,” I said, but we both knew she hadn’t meant Chey. People didn’t share long looks with princes they’d written—at length—about hating.

  A minute later, I took my seat in the second row, right behind the duchess and countess. Chey turned her head just enough to show me her profile as she muttered to Meredith, “Don’t you think it odd they were invited here, considering it was an Aecorian under Wilhelmina’s command behind King Terrell’s murder?”

  Meredith pulled back and scowled. “That’s inappropriate, Chey.”

  Whether she meant the comment in general, or specifically saying it at the memorial, I couldn’t tell. I just glared at the back of Chey’s head as Meredith shot me an apologetic glance.

  “After the wedding,” Chey added, “you’ll have more influence over who he invites to important events.”

  “Chey!” Meredith’s tone turned warning.

  “Speaking of your wedding, we should discuss your dress and all the arrangements soon. Winter solstice isn’t very far, and there’s a lot of planning that must be done.”

  “This isn’t the time to speak of such things.” But Meredith glanced toward Tobiah, her expression warming.

  Quiet mutters echoed in the chamber as everyone arrived. Skyvale nobility, those from other cities in the kingdom, and even foreign. There was a duchess from Laurel-by-the-Sea, followed by nobility from kingdoms farther to the north. Gowns and suits rustled in the echoing quiet.

  The late king’s brothers were already here, sitting in the first row with other family members. Prince Colin was too deep in conversation with Prince Herman to notice my arrival, thank saints. No, tonight their eyes moved toward Tobiah, who stood stiffly, but with far more ease than anyone who’d been shot just days prior should.

  What had the messenger told them? How much did they know?

  Theresa nudged me and jerked her chin toward Connor, on the other side of her. He pointed upward.

  I lifted my face just slightly, my gaze traveling along a column across the dais. The marble split into several sections at the top, splaying like finger bones as the column flared and held the roof. It looked like a great forearm and hand; they all did.

  And the ceiling itself—

  I bit back a gasp a
s chandelier light caught veins of gold laid into the white stone. The ceiling was covered in angles and swirls that shimmered in strange patterns. But when I blinked and my eyes refocused, the gold lines resolved into constellations.

  Astronomy lessons fluttered in the back of my mind. Five stars connected into the rood, and a nearby woman dipped water from a well. As the chamber grew warm with the heat of bodies, I let my thoughts wander to an overlook on Sandcliff Castle where my father taught me star stories. Radiants’ Walk was what he called it. It had been cold that first night, with the breeze coming off the Red Bay. He’d bundled me in his own cloak and stayed by my side as I peered through the pre-wraith telescope.

  I’d forgotten about that. But now, more than ten years later, the memory surfaced with the salty scent of the ocean and the cries of gulls as they found their nests. I could almost hear my father’s voice in my ear as he showed me how to find the boat and the cup.

  I missed him. Those moments. That innocence. The security of my father’s arms around me.

  Now Tobiah’s father was gone, too.

  I dropped my attention back to the dais where Tobiah was speaking to his mother, urging her to sit and rest until the memorial began. But even as she started to acquiesce, a hidden piano struck a chord, and other instruments joined a moment later. Strings, winds, and bass.

  As one, the audience stood.

  As the priests came down the aisles, the thousands of attendees sang a remembrance hymn. Our voices swelled through the chamber, crashing and crushing like waves. I shivered with chills; on the dais, Tobiah looked just as haunted.

  By the end of the song, a handful of priests stood on the dais with the queen and crown prince. They dipped their hands into the pool of water and began a prayer. Everyone sat as the memorial began with an account of Terrell’s life and his honors.

  A few times I had to shush Carl and Connor, while our neighbors flashed glares, but the chamber was noisy with the movement and breath of thousands of others. My mind wandered to the city rooftops, the open sky, and pure, uncomplicated vigilantism.