The Queen's Choice

by Cayla Kluver

  “Stay away from me.”

  I couldn’t make my breath come normally. I hated her. I hated her so much, and yet there she stood, offering comfort as though she really believed her words, her excuses. I was repulsed. My temples throbbed, my teeth ached from grinding them hard enough to polish rock, and my body heat soared. I felt certain I would explode, my skin unable to contain this much fury. Yet when I spoke, my voice was dangerously subdued.

  “You...you killed him.”

  “No!” Shea exclaimed, her tears starting anew. “I didn’t know Hastings would be there, or that he’d—that he’d shoot Zabriel. I didn’t know what was happening on Evernook, the evil that was being done there. I never wanted anyone to get hurt.”

  “How can you say that?” I seethed. “You know they execute murderers and thieves. You’ve known that from the beginning. You can’t sign someone’s death warrant and then say you never meant them harm.”

  Shea didn’t have a response; she just floundered there, clenching and unclenching her hands, round cheeks splotched by sorrow, hemmed in by the lies she’d told to me and to herself.

  “I don’t understand it,” I relentlessly continued. “Why did I defend you when I knew in my heart what you’d done? Why didn’t I just let Fane go after you? Why should I care about you at all anymore?”

  “Fane would have killed me.” Shea’s voice was small, her eyes downcast, perhaps in acknowledgment that my devotion was stronger than hers.

  “Maybe that’s what I should do.” Contrary to the violence of my words, I collapsed on the corner of one of the beds. “My Realm is ruined. The Queen I love is dying...my wings are gone...the Prince will be executed. Chrior and the Faerie Realm are finished.”

  Shea was utterly silent—even the sound of her breathing was muted. She had no understanding of the sweeping power of politics, of how her existence with her family would be impacted by whatever happened next in the Realm of the Fae. No one would be immune to the repercussions. We were looking at an interracial catastrophe if the humans executed our Prince, especially with Illumina taking the throne in the aftermath. Zabriel’s loss would stir up all the righteous anger the young Queen would need to cultivate the support of a majority of my people for her campaign. Thanks to Shea’s initiative, the Mores would have their house back, yes—and two races of people might engage in a bloody, hateful war that would rip our two worlds apart.

  “I’m so sorry, Anya. God, I’m so sorry.”

  I didn’t know how long it had been since one of us had spoken, but Shea’s words seemed to wake me from a nightmarish maelstrom of thoughts.

  “I wish we’d never met,” I told her through clenched teeth. “I wish I’d left you behind with your criminal family. I should never have let you get close to me, never have risked the future of my people on our friendship. You’re a cheat and a liar, and I was fool enough to trust you, anyway.”

  “I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

  “Good,” I snapped, coming to my feet. “I’m not going to try.”

  Shea bit her lip hard, nostrils flaring as she tried to stave off more tears. She knew I meant it. I was incapable of lying.

  “For what it’s worth,” she mumbled. “I’ll never forgive myself, either. But I’m willing to live with that, for the sake of the people I love.”

  Seconds passed, but I refused to acknowledge her justification or lend any credence to the idea that she had made a sacrifice. Both notions were repulsive and equally intolerable, and when it looked like she would say something more, I cut her off with a wave of my hand.

  “Just go. But travel fast. If Fane finds out you betrayed Zabriel, you’ll be dead. And though I’d love to see you suffer for this, I’m not sure that’s the punishment you deserve. So leave, before I change my mind.”

  “Thank you, Anya. I know I don’t deserve to walk out of here, so thank you.”

  She seemed lost for a moment, almost melancholy that this was the way things were ending between us, even though this was the ending she herself had wrought. Then she threw her pack over her shoulder and walked toward the door, wiping her face on her sleeve. Coming abreast of me, she halted, reaching out a hand in a natural way that would once have been welcome, only to let it fall to her side.

  “I don’t know why you would, but...if you ever want to see me, you can find me in Tairmor.”

  Shea left the room, but I heard her halt at the top of the stairs, then turn around.

  “Anya,” she said, tentatively reentering the room. “Roxy... Fane has her keeping track of me. I don’t think I can go downstairs.”

  “That’s not my problem.” I gazed into her frightened eyes, and though I despised myself for taking pity on her, I added, “I suggest you follow Spex.”

  Shea nodded, grateful I’d come around to aiding her this one last time, and approached the balcony. I didn’t know how she’d manage the drop, nor did I care. If she were too meek to try it, she’d just have to face Roxy. And if she fell and broke her neck, life would carry on just fine without her. When silence once more descended upon the room, I looked over to see that she was gone.

  I sat motionless in the aftermath of her departure, my lips quivering as the tension brought on by confrontation left my body. But despite the heavy devastation I felt, I tried to process Shea’s actions, rejecting, then embracing, then rejecting her rationale in an endless circle of pain. What hurt the most was the feeling that there were other choices she could have made. She could have confided in me as friends should do. We could have found another way to deal with her father’s debt. And she should have respected the trust I had in her. But friendship apparently meant nothing next to family loyalty. Or more likely, friendship meant nothing next to the easy way out.

  Remembering that Illumina was waiting downstairs, I shoved anything that was important into my satchel. I didn’t want to think anymore. Thinking would weigh me down to the point I’d never be able to get up again, and there were still people counting on me. I had to see Illumina safely to Tairmor, and somehow I had to undo what Shea had done. That was my priority.

  Roxy had put together enough food to see us through a few days on the road. Though any attempt at normalcy felt stilted, I managed to thank her for her kindness. I also penned a quick note for her to give to Fane that explained our plans, mentioning nothing about Shea. While we were more or less deserting the captain, even he couldn’t have argued we were needed in Sheness. This was his turf, his domain to mobilize, and it was imperative for Illumina to reach Chrior. Zabriel’s best hope now lay in the mother, the Queen, he’d for so long strived to forsake.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  BELIEF, STRENGTH, POWER, PERSEVERANCE

  Before leaving Sheness, my cousin and I rented a single dappled gray horse with part of the money we had left. He was a strong-looking animal, and both Illumina and I were lightweight, so we had faith he could carry both of us and our possessions to Tairmor. I assumed she had never ridden before, but she surprised me with her comfort in settling behind the saddle while I took the reins. I supposed her magic, which had a calming effect even on wild animals, prevented her from feeling as vulnerable as I had my first time on horseback. It was also possible someone had given her cursory instruction during her travels, much like the boy in Strong had aided Shea and me. The thought lifted my lips into an actual smile, an expression I thought had abandoned me—that was the sort of experience she ought to be having on her Crossing, which was essentially what this journey meant for her.

  Even though travel by horseback would be less efficient, it was a very real possibility that we had been labeled criminals, and we couldn’t risk boarding a riverboat. Zabriel would have to last however long it took for help to arrive.

  Illumina had never been a fool. Though she asked me no questions, I was sure she had inferred Shea’s guilt. I was grateful for her restra
int, especially with regard to a human. She did, however, glance at me every so often with extra pensiveness in her stare.

  I listened for word of Pyrite in the little towns through which we passed on our way to the capital, but didn’t even catch a whisper. I had no means to decide if this was good or bad. On the one hand, were he to be executed, the Governor would likely make it into a similar spectacle to the one we had witnessed with Spex’s father. But the law’s silence could mean Zabriel was already dead, that he’d never made it off the island, or that he was undergoing Nature knew what manner of interrogation.

  One sleepless night along the way, I remembered that Zabriel had been wearing his royal ring on a chain around his neck at the time of his arrest. What might the consequences of that be? His identity might be determined before Queen Ubiqua arrived; he could be accused of robbing or murdering one of the Redwood Fae; the ring could be confiscated without its significance being discovered and be lost to history. Did any of these scenarios make things better or worse? I had no idea. I was perhaps most terrified that the Governor hadn’t been told of Zabriel’s capture at all—that the Prince of Chrior could be locked away in another research facility, the subject of ghastly experiments, and we might never find a trace of him.

  We entered Tairmor via the tunnels I’d taken with Shea, leaving the horse behind at the river station where Shea and I had originally boarded the Nautigull. While there was no need for Illumina to accompany me into the city, she was anxious for news of our cousin, and Tairmor was more likely than any roadside town to have the latest word. This time, passage through the cave system was unremarkable—there were no Sepulchres, and I therefore received no forbidding messages, which was a welcome relief considering the nightmare we were already living. I listed the facets of that nightmare like a mantra, one misfortune for every footfall in the tunnels: Zabriel was gone; Ubiqua was dying; my body was mutilated; Illumina was set to rule; there was a conspiracy against the Fae; Shea, my friend, was a traitor.

  Traitor. The term was so foul. It felt good to stamp it across her memory.

  It was no small blessing that Illumina had rope in her pack when, after some circling, we spotted the ceiling trap through which Shea and I had first entered the tunnel system. My cousin flew up and pushed it open, disproving my fear that Tom would have restacked the stones that had covered it. After carrying our packs through, she dropped the rope down to me, straining to haul me up beside her. By the time I scrambled through the aperture, we were both laughing through our exhaustion. I wasn’t heavy, but neither was she especially strong, and the effort involved in extricating me from the tunnel had put quite a strain on us both.

  We sat across from each other, regaining our breath, and a sort of melancholy descended on me. Illumina was pretty when she smiled, but it was an expression she rarely wore. To most in the Faerie Realm, it looked like she’d been born with everything a child could need, but Zabriel and I knew better. The physical scars to match her emotional ones were hidden under the dusty purple tunic she now wore. As I watched the simple joy of a moment spring from Illumina’s aspect and settle around her like sunshine, I said what should have been said years ago.

  “No one had the right to hurt you when we were growing up, Illumina. I’m sorry no one ever put a stop to it.”

  The smile that had inspired my declaration faded, replaced by confusion. She gazed at me, and I thought for a moment she might reach out to touch me. Her eyes were green like spring and envy, but they didn’t hold their usual wariness. After collecting her thoughts, she found her voice to respond.

  “If my childhood had been different, I wouldn’t be who I am.”

  I pondered her words, for her fatalistic tone implied she had no regrets. Still, I thought she had missed my point. She could have been more than she had become; she could have been happier; she could have been content. She could even have made a good successor to the Queen. But I let the matter drop—if I had mentioned these things, she might have felt bad about herself, and that was not my intent.

  We hoisted our packs and climbed the staircase to city level, emerging onto the streets in late morning. We spent the next several hours traversing the business districts, looking at posters and pressing people we encountered for news and rumors. Occasionally, someone made mention of the incident at Evernook Island and the reverberations its destruction was causing in Sheness, but we didn’t hear one bit of gossip involving William Wolfram Pyrite. We chose to believe this was a good sign, lest we drive ourselves crazy.

  As daylight waned, Illumina and I said our goodbyes on the thoroughfare. She didn’t have any more time to spare.

  “Try to get out of the city as inconspicuously as you can,” I advised. “You shouldn’t have trouble with your passport. I doubt Hastings even knows who you are.”

  She smirked and gave a haughty little laugh. “I can handle myself, Anya. You should realize that by now.”

  “Of course. That’s not what I meant. There’s just a lot at stake.”

  “I’ll rest a little during the day and fly by night. I’ll reach Chrior in no time at all.”

  Her words made me long for the ability to go with her. Would the ache of being flightless ever recede? Then another worry gripped me.

  “Illumina, if Ubiqua has fallen ill and, Nature forbid, can’t travel, then bring my father.”

  “Yes, I will. Should I also bring Davic?”

  The question surprised me, and I looked away from her. I wanted to say yes, but it felt selfish to make the request—my promised should stay where he was safe.

  “No, Davic can’t help us. But as the Lord of the Law, my father has the position and authority to speak on the Queen’s behalf.”

  “I’ll do whatever has to be done,” Illumina assured me. To my surprise, she took my hand, and I met her earnest gaze. “Everything is going to be all right, Anya.”

  I pulled her into my arms, giving her a light embrace, which she at first fumbled to return. Eventually, she figured out what to do with her body, and her tension eased, but my thoughts went to Enerris. Judging by her reaction, he had not only hurt her physically, but had starved her of the warmth of touch.

  Illumina picked up her satchel from where it sat on the ground next to mine and walked away. I stared after her, then scanned the area to get my bearings, feeling unexpectedly miserable. I was companionless, almost moneyless, and had no idea when to next expect a friendly face. I would find Fi soon enough, but I dared not stay at the Fae-mily Home, since Luka Ivanova might very well have it under surveillance. Worse, I didn’t entirely trust Illumina to convey the urgency of Zabriel’s situation and bring the Queen to Tairmor. In the end, I comforted myself by thinking that the three months upon which Davic and I had agreed were almost up. When he realized our promise bond was missing, he would notify my father, who would likely enter the Territory to find me. With that as a backup plan in case Illumina didn’t carry out her instructions, I warded off a looming attack of near-immobilizing anxiety. The best thing to do was to focus on solving some of my immediate problems.

  I ate a lukewarm meal that night at a human shelter in one of the poorer sections of Tairmor, then was fortunate to be able to claim one of their cots. Though the weather was improving with the coming of spring, temperatures still dropped considerably at night. I was grateful for the shelter’s presence, for though the food was tasteless, it filled my stomach, and though the cot sagged, it was clean and off the ground.

  The next morning, I trudged south, moving into more dubious neighborhoods, looking for landmarks that would tell me I was close to the Fae-mily Home. I didn’t stray far from the river as I wandered the streets, finding the rush of water improbably comforting. I couldn’t feel its spirit without my elemental connection, but during my time in Tairmor I’d grown accustomed to the sound. It was faint but ever present, like Davic’s breathing when he slept or a cat’s purr. It lulled
my mind into a state of complacency that I greatly desired.

  It was late afternoon when I recognized the area in which the Fae-mily Home was located. I approached the shelter, pulling up the hood on my old cloak—I’d left the one gifted to me by Gwyneth at Roxy’s, fearing its scarlet hue and fur trim would draw attention. Not wanting to run into a Constabulary, I found a niche across the street in which to hunker down, keeping an eye on the Home for comings and goings. When darkness had thickened enough to provide cover, I dashed across the street and through the front door.

  Warmth, the smell of food, and the sounds of laughter and conversation greeted me like an old friend, and I felt I had come home. Wanting to wallow in the sensation, I asked myself if there could really be danger here, if it could hurt to stay just one night. Unfortunately, the answer was yes, and I determined to stay firm in that resolve as I looked around for Fi.

  She found me. Upon hearing the door open and close with her attuned ears, the petite Faerie, orange-and-yellow wings aflutter, bustled into the entry from the dining hall.

  “Anya,” she sputtered, hand over her heart. She rushed to me, wide-set blue-green eyes examining me for signs of injury or illness. “It’s good to see you. Not a day’s gone by without me thinking of you. Did you get to Sheness? Did you find that missing cousin?”

  “Not here,” I murmured. “Somewhere private.”

  Fi took my arm and led me into the large storage closet off the entry, where the staff sorted dirty laundry and shelved clean. Here we would be safe from prying eyes and ears.

  “What’s gone wrong?” she asked, pushing her short wild hair from her forehead. She always looked a little bit frazzled. “I can see in your face that something no good’s happened.”

  “What I’m about to tell you is confidential. You can’t speak of it to anyone, all right?”

  “Of course. The Prince, is he safe? Have you seen him?”

  I nodded, then whispered a partial truth. Without Ubiqua’s counsel, I wouldn’t reveal the whole of Zabriel’s circumstances to anyone.