False Queen

by Nikki Jefford

  Now they were all turning to glare at us.

  From my vantage point, I began taking stock of the mob, the axes in many of the males’ fists. Our four guards must have noticed too. They drew their swords from their scabbards, aiming the tips into the crowd.

  An abnormally large male with muscles that bulged like tree stumps took a step closer and stroked the sleek handle of his ax. “You’ll be able to cut some of us down, but not all of us,” he growled. “How would your false queen like her sister delivered? In pieces or one bloody mess?”

  Folas drew his sword. Never taking his eyes off the mob, he said, “Ride back to Ravensburg, and deliver Mel safely to Queen Teryani. That’s an order.”

  Swords still drawn, the four guards kept their ground, waiting for me to turn my horse around to follow.

  Oh, hell no.

  I wasn’t leaving my favorite twin behind to be butchered. And I’d vowed never to let anyone get between my sister and me ever again—certainly not a bloodthirsty mob.

  I threw my leg over the saddle and leaped off Star.

  Sorry, girlie, gotta leave you behind. Hopefully, we could recover her later. The mob wouldn’t harm the horses, not if we weren’t on top of them. The animals were too valuable, and most of this crowd had come on foot.

  “Dismount,” I hollered, issuing my own orders. “Leave the horses behind. Folas, duck!”

  Folas swung around, nostrils flaring and murder in his eyes when he saw me striding toward him rather than retreating.

  He could kill me later . . . after we made it through the mob.

  I threw my arms forward, balls of fire swirling in my palms. Folas had the good sense to stoop and avoid my flames as they shot forward into the crowd. Screams erupted. Fae stumbled back and began pushing their way off the road to the safety of the fields on either side.

  “Follow me,” I yelled at our guards. “Make sure no one attacks us from behind.”

  Clenching my jaw, I kept my palms lifted over the road, continuous flames shooting out in two thick streams about six-feet long.

  The crowd continued to part as I came at them with my burning heat. Their shrieks only encouraged me. If some of them got hurt along the way, it was their own damn fault.

  Folas and the guards moved with me. I could sense them right behind me keeping pace, walking backward and sideways to fend off any who dared come at us.

  Step by step, we made our way toward the castle—so close, yet so far.

  My fire was concentrated and uninterrupted. I could already feel it draining. My flames drew back several inches.

  No. Burn bright, my fire. Burn strong.

  I closed my left fist, extinguishing the flow of power and concentrating it to one hand, hoping to reserve my elemental magic. It seemed to work when I regained the three inches of reach I’d lost from my right hand. Five steps later, those inches were lost again. My fire drew back another foot.

  Stay with me!

  But my silent plea might as well have been shouted underwater.

  Another foot of fire receded.

  “We need to pick up the pace,” I told my guys, jogging forward and hoping they could keep up and guard the rear at the same time.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the big brute who had threatened me and several of his ax-wielding friends keeping pace with us from the side of the road. Oh, how I wanted to swing my fire and scorch them, but I couldn’t afford to lose a single spark.

  I couldn’t see the drawbridge through the cluster of Fae who remained on the road ahead, but judging from the distance of the castle, I’d guess we had another thirty or so feet to go. I kept up the fast pace even as the wind from my movements blew threateningly at my fire, the flames spitting back in protest.

  When my blaze dwindled to four feet, I switched out my left palm for my right only to find that the flames continued four feet out.

  The Fae were taking longer to move out of the way with my fire dying.

  We weren’t going to make it.

  Correction: My elemental powers weren’t going to last the final stretch to the gate. But we’d make it. I still had my short sword snug against my hip. If I couldn’t burn a path to safety, I’d cut one down.

  When my flames drew back to three feet, I turned my head to the side and hissed at Folas, “Fire’s no longer an option. Time to bring out the steel.”

  I caught the whites of his eyes as my words registered. I extinguished my flames before they burned out altogether and drew my blade.

  “Mel!” Folas roared, his bellow one of exasperation and fear for my safety. His next words were sharp orders to the guards. “You three, keep the rear. You, with me upfront.”

  The crowd surged toward us then fell back as we sliced at them with our blades. The Fae made room for those who had come with weapons. A tall, gangly male came at me with daggers. Folas lunged and stabbed him in the gut before he ever made it within striking distance of me.

  “Hey!” I yelled, but my indignation was lost on him as heavy stones were pelted at us from both sides of the road. One smacked me in the cheek. “Pitberries!” I screamed.

  As with my flames, I continued moving forward, slashing at anyone who approached from the front. We had to make it to the bridge. It was our only hope.

  A male screamed in agony from behind us, and my heart gave a jolt of triumph until I heard Folas curse.

  Oh pit. Must have been one of ours.

  “We need to run,” Folas hissed.

  “A portal right about now would be nice,” I said.

  “Not an option.”

  Seriously, that sucked.

  “Why? Did you use up all your miles?”

  Folas grunted.

  He really needed to take a closer look at the wall of bodies building before us. I wasn’t about to dive into a sea of daggers. We were still gaining ground with our swords. It just wasn’t happening quickly enough.

  There was another scream. Another curse.

  Damn! What did that leave us with? Two guards, plus Folas and me.

  How dare the citizens of Dahlquist butcher their kingdom’s royal guards?

  If I didn’t hurry, I’d be next.

  I lunged forward, thrusting the tip of my blade into the crowd. They jumped back. The castle walls were closer, so the bridge had to be near.

  Feeling emboldened, I arced my blade, swinging and jabbing my sword with an air of menace. Death to any who stand in my way!

  Right when I thought we were going to, in fact, make it through this mess, I heard a familiar grunt, uttered in pain.

  I whipped around to find Folas slashed across the shoulder, bleeding. He stabbed the offending Fae, a tall male with a broad sword, in the gut. The male fell to the ground, but another Fae grabbed his weapon and started at Folas.

  Short sword gripped tightly in my right hand, I thrust out my left palm and brought out my flames. They only flared two feet out, but the Fae jumped away, not knowing if there was more where that came from. I extinguished the flames again. Each one felt like a severed thread. The next one might be my last.

  My eyes met Folas’s. In his gaze, I saw silent respect and something else. Regret. Our connection was a brief moment in time before his eyes widened and he screamed, “Mel! Watch out.”

  Watch out for what? Fae came at us from every direction I turned. Then I found what had him yelling. The brute with the ax and three of his friends charged straight for me. Just me.

  Figured they’d need four to go up against one elf.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Aerith

  B

  ow in hand, quiver at my back, I hastened across the outer courtyard as fast as I could with my bulging belly.

  Usually, the outer courtyard was clogged with merchants and servants going about their daily routines, but they’d taken cover inside the barns once the mob approached the gate. Eighty guards stood at the ready, lined up along the walls, awaiting orders.

  I’d commanded the guards at the watchtowers to send
someone running to alert me the moment they caught sight of my sister. If I’d known a mob would gather, I never would have sent for her. We had other problems—big problems—back home. The citizens of Dahlquist could not have picked a worse time to storm the gates.

  But then, that’s probably what Albedo and Malon had planned all along.

  If anything happened to Mel, killing the black-haired, black-hearted devils would not be enough. I’d make sure they suffered for the rest of their miserable lives.

  No, I couldn’t think that way.

  Mel was a fighter. Mel was strong.

  Mel was vastly outnumbered.

  The moment a courtier had come running with news of Mel and Folas riding in, I’d dropped everything to rush to the castle’s gate.

  There hadn’t actually been anything to drop—certainly not the bow and full quiver I kept at the ready. I’d been waiting in the hall nearest the outer courtyard. Pacing. Pacing. Pacing. Jhaeros at the ready with me, waiting with lethal calm.

  “If they have any sense, they will turn around when they see the mob,” he’d offered.

  “This is Mel you’re talking about,” I’d reminded him.

  Jhaeros was smart enough not to ask me to wait behind in the heavily guarded throne room with Ryo as Galather had suggested. Ryo had raised a fuss, but I’d ordered him to stay behind, and the guards to make sure he did. If something happened to me, I’d instructed my closest circle and the castle staff that Ryo would stand in as king until Liri’s return. It was nothing more than a precaution. I wasn’t going down anytime soon. I had an elf to marry and a baby to deliver.

  Luckily, my father-in-law had developed a protruding gut over the years and his breastplate fit me quite well.

  “Hold tight, little one.” I sent the thought down to my belly. “Time to escort your Aunt Mel safely into the castle.”

  The castle’s stone entrance loomed ahead. Beyond it, the mob stirred, shouting words I could not make out, though I’d heard the reports of what they were saying.

  “Open the gate,” I yelled as I approached.

  Jhaeros kept pace beside me, his longsword already in hand.

  “You can’t go out there,” Galather pleaded at my back. “They have axes.”

  And I had arrows.

  “Open the bloody gates!” I screamed.

  The guard manning the gate knew better than to question me. As the gate lifted, I nocked an arrow.

  Galather rushed in front of me, but it was to lead twenty of the castle guards onto the bridge. They spaced themselves apart, taking up posts every several paces, leaving room for more guards to run down the middle. I hurried after them, my gown swishing at my ankles. Jhaeros shadowed my every step. I was grateful he didn’t barrel out ahead of me, even knowing that he would throw himself in front of me should even the hint of harm come my way.

  The wood groaned against our collective bodies. Water from the moat reflected a glaring sun at our sides.

  I’d expected the mob to swarm the bridge, but they were holding back. As I approached the end of the bridge, I noticed they were forming a circle. I caught a flash of red hair then the glint of silver as a monstrosity of a Fae lifted his ax over my sister.

  I aimed and released the shaft, beseeching the all mighty blue sky that no one would step into my arrow’s path before it hit its mark.

  I would not rely on hope alone. As my arrow flew, I nocked and released a second and a third, firing at the monster after my sister.

  My first, second, and third arrows found their marks, piercing his chest in two places, and his throat, which spurted blood. His ax dropped from his fingers.

  I fired at his comrades, walking forward as I went.

  “Guards!” Galather bellowed.

  They ran alongside me as I stepped off the bridge.

  Fae females began to scream and shake their fingers at me as though I was a demon come to devour their souls.

  If only I had that power. It was one thing to call me names and protest outside the castle, but to attack my sister and royal guards—that made me want to fire arrows into them all.

  “I need more,” I said to Jhaeros.

  He already had extra arrows pulled from the quiver he wore on his back. He handed me one. I fired at any who tried to come at Mel and Folas, who was on his knees hunched over, but still holding his sword out threateningly.

  With each arrow I fired, Jhaeros was ready to hand me the next.

  The crowd backed away, giving us wide berth as my guards stretched out like a net closing in around my sister and Folas.

  “You okay?” I asked Mel, keeping an arrow nocked and my eyes roving the crowd.

  “Yeah,” she said, but she sounded shaken.

  “Let’s get inside,” I said to our group.

  Galather bent down to help his brother off the ground. Folas gave a groan.

  “Our other guards?” I asked him.

  “Dead,” he gritted out.

  I hissed air in between my teeth and glared at the Fae who still refused to leave.

  “Aerith, we need to get Mel and Folas inside,” Jhaeros said, bringing me back to our most important task.

  “Fall back, everyone,” I said, leading the retreat to the bridge.

  The castle guards kept their posts, waiting until our party had passed through the stone arch into the courtyard before drawing back and following us inside. Once the last guard had stepped through, I ordered the gate closed.

  Mel glared through the grate as it lowered.

  “You okay, Mel?” I asked, scanning her body for injuries. Thank the sky I saw no blood or gashes on her.

  “Fine,” she said, lifting her chin. “But what’s all this madness about?”

  “We’ll speak in the throne room.” I turned to Galather. “Take your brother to his room first and have a healer sent.”

  “No,” Folas said. “I want to meet in the throne room first.”

  I eyed his wound, a gash bleeding from his arm, but it was his stomach he clutched. “I won’t have you dying at my feet—not when the kingdom needs you.” I looked over at Galather and issued my order. “Get Folas to his bedchamber.”

  Galather nodded, his eyes softening for a brief moment as they met mine.

  “Come,” I said to Mel. “Ryo will be relieved to see you made it back safely. But first, I’d like to get this armor off. I’m carrying enough extra weight around as it is.”

  Sword sheathed, Jhaeros helped me out of the breastplate. The moment the heavy metal was lifted off, I sighed in relief.

  Our small group continued to the throne room. As we approached, the guards rapped on the heavy doors, announcing, “The queen has returned.”

  The doors opened, and guards stepped aside to let us through. Ryo stood wild-eyed near the doors. I saw him take note of Mel and look her over as I had done. Once satisfied, he turned his eyes to me and said gruffly, “Everyone’s okay then?”

  He wasn’t happy with me. I would have felt the same way in his shoes, but the castle was still mine to command.

  “Folas is injured, and four of our guards are dead.”

  Ryo’s lips flattened. I faced the fifteen guards who had been left to guard him and thanked them before dismissing them all from the throne room. As they filed out, I walked to the dais and stared up at the chair.

  Mel swept up to my side, but I kept my focus on the throne and the problem it presented.

  “We came as fast as we could,” Mel said. “What is so urgent?”

  My temples throbbed. I gripped the back of my neck and turned to Mel.

  “Ogres are attacking Pinemist.” My stomach hardened as I said the words.

  My home. My brethren. My realm was under attack because of this damn throne. Albedo and Malon had orchestrated the whole thing.

  As my thoughts smoked inside my mind, I heard Mel gasp.

  “When? How? Is everyone back home okay? Devdan?” Her voice wobbled on his name.

  Tears of frustration and anger filled my eyes a
s I turned to her. “I don’t know,” I said, my jaw tight. “I can’t leave. That’s exactly what Albedo and Malon want to force me to do.”

  Mel’s eyes sparked. “Albedo and Malon did this?”

  I nodded. “Malon sent a letter informing me of the attack. He said it would continue until every last home and establishment was destroyed or I gave up the throne to Albedo.”

  Ryo growled his frustration from beside Mel.

  Jhaeros remained deathly silent. The longer we remained in Dahlquist, the more I felt him slipping away. Nothing could tear him from my side, and he would sacrifice himself for me in an instant. But the tenderness we’d shared was fading. We no longer teased one another or laughed. We didn’t kiss. We barely hugged. We didn’t even play campaigne. There was too much at stake for us to relax or have fun, and bit by bit, it was crushing our souls.

  Nothing was more important to me than Jhaeros and Mel, and yet I could not leave this stone prison. I would not allow Albedo and Malon to win.

  Attempting to swallow past the lump in my throat, I continued. “Meanwhile, the citizens of Dahlquist have been led to believe Liri is never returning and that I plan on keeping the crown. They refuse to accept an elf as queen any longer and are demanding I relinquish the title to Lyklor now that they’ve been made aware that he is Liri’s true brother. There have been whispers of a spell that will prevent Liri from returning, and since my Earthbound brother-in-law hasn’t bothered checking in with Galather for days, we have no idea how things are progressing in the mortal realm.”

  I slid my hand from the back of my neck to the top of my head, which was crown-free. If I had been wearing a crown, I would have ripped it off and thrown it at the chair. I felt the soft press of a hand on my shoulder—Mel’s.

  “Do we know that the attacks are real? Can Fae lie on paper? Or could Malon have had someone else pen the note? Maybe it’s a ploy to get you to leave Dahlquist.”

  I shook my head. “I had Galather dreamscape into Jhaeros’s home to check on his staff and find out if the attacks were real.” My heart clenched. “The ogres have already destroyed the west end shops.”

  At least Fhaornik and Mrs. Calarel were safe. For now. Never wanting to leave my side for long, Galather had only spoken with them briefly.