by Jodi Meadows
“What happened?” James spoke in a whisper, as though anything more would shatter the spell of memory. “Because I’m not dead.”
“A lot of that is a blur now. I know we changed horses. We stopped for a few hours so the soldiers could rest. I was in and out for most of that. The next thing I really remember is waking up in an office, and a girl freeing me from where I’d been tied to a chair.”
Tobiah’s eyes locked on mine, haunted and dark. “You showed me your magic,” he said. “And after my father’s people came to rescue me, I remembered it.”
“But I can’t”—I glanced at James—“bring things back to life. I tried once. There was a stillborn kitten when I was a girl. Nothing happened.”
“I know.” Tobiah swallowed hard and looked down. “Saints. I wish I could stop there.”
“I deserve to know,” said James.
Tobiah smoothed his hair down with both hands, and linked his fingers behind his neck. He let out a strained sigh. “Wil, do you remember the trip to the Indigo Kingdom?”
“Not really.” Was he about to tell me how I’d died, too? “Some of it, I guess. The way the wagon jumped over rocks. The other children crying. Trying to calm the babies. I don’t remember much until the orphanage.” I’d just seen my parents slaughtered in the courtyard, cut open by one of Tobiah’s rescuers. Everything after that was a wash of nausea and terror.
“The journey back to the Indigo Kingdom was slower.” Tobiah turned back to James. “I kept getting questions about you—whether you’d been with me. But I couldn’t answer. On the second night, when I was alone in my tent and wishing I didn’t have to tell your mother what happened. Or my own. Or anyone. I wished so hard that you were still with me, and then—”
Silence rang through the study as Tobiah caught his breath. He couldn’t even say it. So I did. “You wished so hard, and then he was there.”
Tobiah closed his eyes and hung his head. He seemed to deflate. “Yes.”
“You’re a flasher,” James whispered.
“Yes.” Tobiah crossed his arms, shoulders hunching. “You were just there. I wondered if I’d somehow transported your body from the cliff, but you weren’t scratched up or broken.”
A new James. He’d made a new James.
“I didn’t know what to do, so I went to find the only person I knew who might be able to help. The girl who could bring things to life, and make them do what she said. The animator.”
Me.
More voices sounded in the hall, some raised, but Oscar held them off. When it was quiet again, Tobiah continued.
“Wil, I sneaked through the camp to find you. You didn’t want to use magic, but I insisted it was an emergency. I was exhausted from using my power. That must have convinced you.” Tobiah licked his lips and looked at me like he was waiting for me to remember, but I couldn’t. I didn’t remember that at all. “You said you couldn’t wake the dead, so I wasn’t sure if it would work—whether I’d made something new or transported something to me—but I asked you to try anyway. You did. You said, ‘Wake up. Be Tobiah’s friend and cousin. He is the one who commands you.’ And that was it. You’d transferred control to me, just like that, and James was awake. Alive. After that, Wil, I took you back to the wagon and never saw you again. Not that I realized anyway.”
James spoke quietly. “I’m not real.”
“You are.” Tobiah’s attention snapped to James. “You are real. You’re my best friend. You always were.”
“No, he was. He was your best friend, that boy General Lien threw over the cliff. I—I don’t know what I am.” James surged to his feet, blinking rapidly. “Do I even make my own decisions, or do I do everything you say, like Wil’s notebooks or the cathedral? Am I any different from the wraith boy? Just a little more tame. More useful.”
“You’re my friend. My best friend.”
“No, I’m not.” James strode out the door without a backward glance.
Tobiah started after his cousin, one long stride and his hands curled like claws.
“Don’t.” I reached, but didn’t touch him. “Let him go.”
“I need to explain.” He faced me, looking desperate and haggard. Red rimmed his eyes.
“You’ve already said everything. Now let him absorb it.”
Tobiah dropped his gaze. “I never wanted to hurt him. I didn’t want him to feel like a replacement.”
“Give him time. One day he’ll understand that nothing has changed. He’ll forgive you.” He would. There was no one James loved more than his cousin. They’d work it out.
“Will it be his choice? His question was legitimate: has anything been his choice? What if I’ve been unconsciously commanding him all this time?”
Like the wraith boy sensed my wants. It was a fair question. “Maybe if he doesn’t forgive you and you really want him to, that’ll be proof enough.”
“Or because I know I don’t deserve it.” He lifted his eyes to watch me through his lashes. “What about you? I took advantage of your power. I hunted you and other radiants. All along, I had a secret of my own.”
It would have been so easy to condemn him for his hypocrisy, but I wasn’t angry with him. Curious, concerned, and confused: yes. But not angry. “I don’t want to fight.”
He closed his eyes and exhaled. “Me neither.”
“I want to hear all about it. Your power.”
A weak smile warmed his face. “It’s funny. I’ve seen you struggle so hard to suppress yours. It’s like tying a hand behind your back. You have it. Your natural inclination is to use it, even though you know how dangerous it is. You accept it as part of you.”
“Sometimes I wish I could change that,” I said.
“But for me, magic is the opposite. I learned to suppress it early. After James—” He glanced at the door. “I wouldn’t make James go away, but I didn’t want to admit that I’m a flasher, too. That’s probably why I fought so hard against magic in Skyvale.”
“Sometimes we hate others for the things we hate in ourselves.”
He nodded. “Once, you accused me of going after radiants. You were right.”
“Such is the curse of being me.” I watched him from the corner of my eye. “So that’s your power? You make things appear?”
“Appear and disappear. I’ve only done it a few times, and rarely anything big.”
Same as I usually animated only small things. “James and the bridge are exceptions, then? You let go of the bridge pretty quickly.”
“Too many things, or too big, and it takes a toll.”
Oh, how I understood that. “A boy who makes things appear and disappear, and a girl who brings things to life.”
“What a pair we make,” he said. “I don’t know how you’ve managed. James, the wraith boy, plus all the things you’ve animated in addition to that. You must be incredibly strong.”
I didn’t know about strong, but I’d definitely grown accustomed to the stress of magic. “Keeping him alive.” I shook my head. “That’s not how my power is supposed to work. But James is alive. Chrysalis, too.”
Slowly, the puzzle pieces began to fit together.
“But maybe magic things are different,” I mused. “Maybe I brought Chrysalis to life because he’s made of wraith. James because he’s made of magic.”
“The Cathedral of the Solemn Hour was made with magic.”
“With. Not of. The materials were mined and shaped with magic, not conjured from nothing.”
“But James was.” Tobiah glanced at the door, anguish heavy in his eyes. “I wanted to ask for so long, but that would have meant admitting the truth about James and myself.” He leaned his weight onto the desk and hung his head. Strands of hair fell over his eyes, and he heaved a long sigh. “That was cowardly of me.”
“It was,” I allowed. “But also completely understandable. Saints, Tobiah. You know the things I’ve done—or not done—because of fear.”
A cold, uncomfortable silence followed, like the memory o
f Meredith’s lifeless body on the chapel floor.
“I need to talk to James.” He looked up at me, eyes red with stress and exhaustion and grief. “He’s my best friend. Magic or no magic, that never changed.”
“You’re a good man, Tobiah Pierce.”
“I want to be.” He touched my hand, a faint brush of his knuckles over mine that warmed deep into my stomach. “I’ll find you later.”
I lingered in the study for a few more minutes, wondering if I actually needed to return to the ball. But how would it look if I abandoned it completely? Tobiah had avoided dozens of social events so he could go out as Black Knife, which left his people believing he was lazy and unfriendly.
No matter what I wanted to do, I needed to fulfill my duty as queen. Which meant dances and dinners, in addition to the real work of running a limping kingdom.
Grudgingly, I started toward the ballroom again, Oscar at my heels.
“Your Majesty!” Sergeant Ferris raced toward me from the opposite end of the hall.
“What is it?”
“Prince Colin,” he said, gasping. “He’s attacking Aecor City.”
FORTY-TWO
“PRINCE COLIN? YOU’RE sure?”
Sergeant Ferris nodded. “He has part of the Indigo Army and Aecorian loyalists.”
I’d suspected that much, but I hadn’t expected his attack to come immediately.
“Where is his army now?” I asked.
“The lowcity, engaged with the Red Militia.”
“The Red Militia?”
Sergeant Ferris dipped his head. “Yes, Your Majesty. The Red Militia is also attacking.”
“Saints.” That was just what I needed—both enemies attacking my city at once. “Let them fight it out for a while, but clear the civilians. Move them into the castle if you need to. Fill the ballrooms and staterooms. Just get people to safety. Coordinate with Captain Rayner.” I frowned at Ferris’s and Oscar’s uniforms side by side. “I suppose Patrick’s people are wearing red, and Prince Colin’s are wearing blue?”
Sergeant Ferris nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
For ten years, my world had been red against blue, but I could no longer tell my enemies by the colors they wore. “We need something,” I said. “Something that’s just ours.”
“Not ospreys, then?” Oscar crossed his arms.
“No. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Red Militia is using that. We need something else.” I hesitated, but it was the only thing. “Black knives. Use paint, ink, pitch—I don’t care. Put them on the fronts, backs, and sleeves of all of our people’s uniforms. We need to identify our friends.”
Sergeant Ferris’s eyebrows lifted toward his hairline. “Your Majesty—”
“When we first met, you asked if I was Black Knife.” Noise from the ongoing ball punctuated my pause. “Yes. I am Black Knife. And so is your king.”
Oscar’s mouth had dropped open, and Sergeant Ferris turned ashen.
“You have your orders, Sergeant. Live through this and you can change that to lieutenant. I know the queen and king.”
“And Black Knife, apparently,” Oscar said as Sergeant Ferris ran through the hall. “What do we do next?”
“I need you to gather the Ospreys and get them ready for what they do best. Paige can prepare the castle. Connor and Ronald need to be in triage to help the physicians. Put the others where you see fit. Some should help paint knives on our army so we’re ready.”
“I should stay with you. I’m your bodyguard tonight.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oscar Gray. I have taken care of myself for ten years. I’ve let you and others follow me around for the last few months because that’s what queens do, but right now you’re needed elsewhere.”
He scowled. “What will you be doing?”
“I’m going to talk to Patrick. He knew Prince Colin was going to attack tonight. I’m going to find out what else he knows.”
“I’ll send someone for you when I can.”
“Don’t you dare!”
But Oscar was already trotting away.
With the skirt of my gown hiked up, I ran for the prison.
Patrick had answers.
I shouldn’t have put off his warning.
I could apologize. Admit he’d been right. Anything to make him tell me everything he knew about Prince Colin’s plans.
As I descended the stairs, a sense of wrongness crept around me. I slowed and listened.
The prison was quiet. No guards grumbling that they were missing the ball. No prisoners muttering that they were being mistreated. Just the faint acrid scent of wraith and blood.
When I reached the lower stairs, the copper stench grew stronger. I swallowed a few times to keep everything down.
And then I stepped off the final stair and into the guard room.
Sergeant Wallace and two others were slumped over their desks, blood dripping onto the floor. It came from their fingers, their desks, their hair. No one moved. I hardly breathed as I scanned the room, but nothing else was out of order.
Just the three dead men.
The door to the cell block hung open, only relative darkness waiting beyond.
I kept one eye on the door as I moved from guard to guard, checking for pulses I knew I wouldn’t find. They’d all been stabbed in the back of the neck with some kind of large, messy weapon. They hadn’t had time to call for help or defend themselves.
I’d have to tell Theodore Wallace’s mother.
I blinked away a tear as I slipped into the cell block, lit only by half-empty oil lamps. Listening hard for movement, I pulled two lamps off the wall and held them away from my body. They weren’t much of a weapon, but if there was someone here, I could do some damage.
But every cell I passed was empty. The rustle of my dress was the only sound.
And then, a gasp. “My queen! You’re here!”
The shock made me reach for a dagger that wasn’t on me, and I dropped my lamp. Oil gushed from the broken glass, and flame whooshed up and around me.
Chrysalis erupted from Patrick’s cell and scooped me away from the fire. The other lamp shattered as I tried to scramble away.
“Be careful,” Chrysalis scolded as he released me in the guard station. Then he noticed the bodies. “Did you do this?” His tone fit somewhere between alarmed and impressed.
“No.” I shoved him away and moved toward the stairwell. Heat bloomed from the back of the cell block. The fire was contained there for now, but it would grow if I didn’t find someone to extinguish it. “I was going to ask you if you’d killed them.”
“No!” He looked offended. “You don’t like it when I kill people, so I’m trying to stop.”
“Then what are you doing here?” I gestured around the room. “Three dead guards. Empty prison cells. What happened? Where’s Patrick?”
Chrysalis pressed his mouth into a line. “Patrick called for me. I heard him, even though he was only whispering my name. He whispered that you were in danger, but he could help. We talked.”
My stomach dropped. Just what I needed: two people who’d do anything for me to have a discussion. “What did you talk about?”
“He said Prince Colin was coming to get you, and he knew where all Colin’s people were going to be. He just needed to get out so he could coordinate.”
“You could have come to me, Chrysalis.”
The wraith boy shook his head. “I wanted to, but Patrick said you wouldn’t do what was necessary to stop them. But he would. He said he’d be the one who did bad things so you didn’t have to—and so I didn’t have to. He knew I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
I closed my eyes for a moment.
“He said you’d finally taken your crown, and he was going to help you keep it no matter the cost.”
“Saints,” I muttered.
“You’re not happy that he cares about you that much?” The wraith boy frowned toward the hall where smoke was just beginning to billow out. “He said you liked his help.”
<
br /> “No. Not for a long time. I don’t like the things he does.” The smoke grew thicker as it poured from the hall. “Let’s go. Up the stairs.”
I’d taken three steps when I realized Chrysalis wasn’t following.
“What are you doing?”
He was busy scowling at his feet, and for the first time I realized he still wore the white tailcoats from the coronation. “I wanted to make you happy. I let him out of the cell, and all his friends, because he promised he was going to help you stay queen, and that’s what I wanted, too. I agreed to wait here and tell you his message because he knew you’d come to see him. But I was wrong. I did something bad.”
“It’s fi—” I exhaled through my teeth. It wasn’t fine. It was better that Prince Colin and Patrick were fighting each other, certainly, but this reborn kingdom with its untested queen and heartbroken king didn’t need a battle against two armies.
“I’m going to make it right.” Chrysalis looked up at me, an idea bright in his eyes. “I know how to stop them.”
“What are you going to do?”
“You’ll see.”
Chrysalis vanished.
FORTY-THREE
A PAIR OF Queen’s Guards discovered me just moments after Chrysalis vanished. Matthew went for help, while Cael announced he’d escort me to my room.
“No, I’m needed elsewhere.”
“It’s for your own safety.” He motioned at the knife painted onto his uniform, as if I needed proof he was on my side. “Oscar Gray promised you’d come without issues.”
Oscar Gray was going on floor-scrubbing duty for the rest of his life.
“I don’t need to be safe. I need to find the wraith boy. You have no idea what he’ll do.” Neither did I, though, and that was the most terrifying thing of all.
“All the more reason to make sure you’re safe.”
That was terrible logic, given Chrysalis listened only to me, but I let out a resigned, annoyed sigh, and went with him.
My vermilion cape fluttered behind me as I strode through the halls, which were filling with people wearing black knives on their uniforms, suits, and ball gowns; no one wanted to be mistaken for an enemy. When they saw me, whispers spread like fire.
